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the negotiations with the Seven
Brothers. The negotiations lasted three days. After the first few hours,
everything became a blur in
Blade's mind, and he retained only a few clear impressions.
There were the four Steppemen, observers who sat in on all the negotiations,
the first Blade had ever seen in the flesh. They were short, squarely built
men, with skinny legs spectacularly bowed from a lifetime on horseback. They
wore leather vests and trousers; their main weapons were long, curved,
two-handed swords worn slung across the back. Their dark hair was braided into
two pigtails and they wore beards trimmed into points and stiffened with
strong-smelling grease.
The seven Brothers of Nongai, along with Emass, sat at a long table of waxed
driftwood pegged and tied together. All wore faded tunics, most wore fur
jackets over the tunics in spite of the warmth of the room, and all were armed
to the teeth. No two of them wore their hair or beards in the same style, but
all had one other thing in common. All were in deadly fear of the attack
Emperor Kul-Nam was preparing to launch against them.
They concealed it well, of course. The Steppemen did not appear to notice it,
but Blade and Prince
Durouman were more experienced observers, with keener eyes. They knew that
they were negotiating
with men desperate for aid against a dreaded enemy, and not much caring from
where it came as long as it came.
They were also negotiating with men who tended to think more in terms of ships
at sea than of horsemen on land. That was an advantage. The Seven Brothers
would more readily accept an alliance that offered them a fleet than one that
offered them an army. Now all that remained was to convince the Seven
Brothers that Prince Durouman would indeed bring a fleet to their aid.
That was the hardest part of the whole job of negotiating. Once more Blade
felt like a door-to-door salesman. The customers were even more stubborn, and
this time the sales talk went on for days instead of hours.
The Steppemen listened intently, their dark eyes switching from Blade to the
Seven Brothers and back again. They seldom spoke, and when they did, it was
usually through an interpreter. When they spoke themselves, their accents were
so thick that neither Blade nor the prince nor the Seven Brothers could
understand more than about half of what they said.
Eventually the Seven Brothers and Emass declared that they had heard all they
needed to hear from both sides. They would go forth, speak to all the Free
Brothers, and return with their decision.
It was two days before that decision was announced. Blade and Prince Durouman
were too busy catching up on lost sleep and missed meals to have time to be
nervous during those days. But they were still surprised at the decision of
the Seven Brothers.
"We have decided," Emass said solemnly, "that we shall make no decision at
this time. That which we have heard and seen is not enough for us to decide
with the wisdom that is needed for the safety of the
Free Brothers."
Emass looked at Prince Durouman. "Lord Prince. Have you in your company a
warrior of great strength and skill, fit to serve as your champion?"
Prince Durouman hesitated a second, then nodded. "I have. He is Prince Blade,
who stands here before you."
"Good." Emass asked the same question of the Steppemen's envoys. Their
champion was not among the four envoys, but they could produce one-or even a
dozen-if necessary.
"It will be necessary," said Emass drily. "We have decided that a champion of
Prince Durouman and a champion of the Steppemen shall do battle to the death.
They shall do battle tomorrow, on horseback, before all those present here.
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That side whose champion gains the battle shall be permitted to enter into
alliance with us, according to our laws and customs. This is our decision. Go
forth and prepare for battle."
If Blade had indulged in his first impulse, he would have drawn his sword and
started hacking off the heads of the Seven Brothers, one by one, until he was
killed. That impulse did not last long. But rage and incomprehension were
still bubbling inside him when he and Prince Durouman returned to Kukon.
"This is as mad as anything Kul-Nam himself might have done!" he exploded.
Prince Durouman pulled at his beard, his face screwed up in a particularly
intense frown. Then he shook his head. "I wonder. There may be a good reason
for this-or a reason that seems good to the Brothers."
Blade laughed. "For the moment, that's the same thing. All right, I'll believe
just about anything at this point. What is their reason?"
"It helps conceal the fact that they're frightened. Would frightened men let a
major decision rest on something so frivolous as a battle between champions?
Of course not. That's what they hope we and the
Steppemen will think. Then they can drive a harder bargain with the winner."
Blade grimaced. The reasoning of the Seven Brothers made a good deal of sense,
if Prince Durouman was right about it.
Unfortunately, that reasoning was going to put him squarely in the middle of a
duel to the death!
Chapter 22
Blade slept well that night. Before going to bed he spent a couple of hours
with Prince Durouman discussing the fight tomorrow.
"You must strike at the man, not at the horse," the prince said. "You can only
strike at your opponent's horse if you yourself are dismounted and somehow
survive long enough to launch an attack."
Blade nodded. "Perhaps I shouldn't even bother mounting a horse in the first
place."
"I doubt very much if they would allow that, Blade."
"Very well. The swords are designed for use from horseback, certainly. I have
used such before. I see no problem."
That was not entirely true. If he was not on foot, he would be riding a Steppe
horse. There was no other kind on hand. The Steppe horses were tough, strong,
and extremely agile. The battle tactics of the
Steppemen made full use of these qualities. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]