Ornilan was not too angry to recognize the sense of Blade's words. His face returned to its normal color. «I understand what you mean. Very well, I will be precise. When we have conquered Pendar, you will be second viceroy. You will have free run of the women and gold of Pendar, a palace of your own, command of Pendari and perhaps even Lanyri troops-power and wealth greater than that of many kings.»
«Who is going to be first viceroy? I must be able to work with him. Otherwise my gilded bed in Pendar may prove a bed of nails.»
Ornilan grinned. «Have you been around the royal palace in Vilesh so long without knowing that? The High Councilor Klerus is our man, body and soul-at least for the moment.» Ornilan did not want to put into words what Blade could easily see was in his mind. Klerus would be reliable as long as he needed the Lanyri. But after that? He might dream of the Pendari forgiving his treachery if he offered to lead them in revolt against Lanyri rule. If such a revolt succeeded, Klerus would be truly king, ruler of an independent Pendar, not just a satrap of the Lanyri. It was certainly an idea that would occur to Klerus, if it had not already.
«That also I have heard,» said Blade. «But I find it hard to believe, considering the number of times that Klerus has tried to have me killed or at least made powerless.»
Ornilan shrugged. «He is sometimes too eager. He no doubt thought you were an enemy at the time. I can understand what he tried to do.»
«I can understand it, too,» said Blade irritably. «But I cannot endure it any longer if I am to cooperate with you. And certainly not if I am to cooperate with Klerus. Am I, by the way?»
«Let us say that you will work in parallel but not hand-in-hand,» said the general. «We cannot raise you above Klerus, for he would become jealous. We cannot put you under Klerus, for then you would be able to see only with his eyes and hear only with his ears. We want you to use your own wisdom in this matter.» A polite way of saying that he should spy on Klerus. With pleasure!
«Very well,» said Blade. «But you must send word to Klerus that I am no longer an enemy. That will keep him from trying to kill me. That way he can also protect me if the Pendari begin to suspect that I am no longer on their side. And finally, he can keep watch over me and in case I change my mind… well, he has his methods, I am sure.»
Blade managed to avoid holding his breath while waiting for Ornilan to answer this last speech. Here was the critical point. If Ornilan agreed and reported the agreement to Klerus, it would for the moment wipe out Klerus' suspicions of the Pendarnoth. And Blade had no intention of giving Klerus more than a moment after he returned to Vilesh. He would strike fast and hard and finally, and not even King Nefus or Princess Harima would know in advance. Besides, being in the good graces of Ornilan would make the escape and the return to Vilesh much easier.
Blade saw Ornilan walk the whole length of the headquarters several times before he replied. «Very well, Pendarnoth. I understand all the reasons you give me. I particularly like the last one. If you are treacherous, Klerus will indeed find ways of dealing with you. Ways you will not like.» Ornilan turned away from Blade and walked back to the table where his papers and maps were scattered. He picked up a pen and began writing on a piece of parchment.
«I will give orders for you to be kept in comfort here until I send a message to Klerus. We now have very reliable methods of sending messages to Vilesh, so it should take no more than a week.» Ornilan grinned, showing all his teeth, and for a moment Blade was reminded of a skull. Then the general shouted an order, and half a dozen Lanyri soldiers tumbled into the room and led Blade away.
Ornilan kept at least part of his promise to Blade. Blade's quarters were not merely comfortable, they were positively luxurious. They even provided him with a choice of bed companions. Of both sexes, he noted-homosexuality was a popular vice among the Lanyri. Blade turned the men out-politely, except for one who became so insistent that Blade finally kicked him through the door-but kept a number of the women. No doubt Ornilan had ideas of getting information from Blade. But Blade in turn had ideas of getting information about the location and layout of the camp from the women. After ten days, Blade suspected that he had been more successful than Ornilan.
On the eleventh night no women came. The guards came in to bring the evening meal and pour fresh oil into the pottery lamps. But that was all. Blade was just settling down for a solitary night's sleep when he heard a scratching noise on the window over his bed.
The Lanyri had given him no weapons, but he had hidden a broken chair leg that would make a useful club. He now drew this from its hiding place. Then he lay perfectly still, the club clutched firmly in one hand but concealed under the covers. The scratching sound came again.
Moving inch by inch, Blade slid out of bed, got to his feet, and flattened himself against the wall to the right of the window. With one hand he reached out toward the latch of the wooden shutter, with the other he raised the club. A quick twist of his wrist, the latch clicked open, and the shutter swung into the room. A moment later Blade heard the sound of someone scrambling clumsily up the outside wall of the hut. A head concealed in a dark blue hood thrust into the room, along with two hands gloved in the same color. Blade waited until the intruder was halfway over the window sill before he moved.
He grabbed one of the hands and jerked so that the intruder toppled onto the bed. With his free hand he raised the club, then flipped the person over. He jerked the hood off, then stopped, club still raised but his eyes widening in surprise.
A woman was staring up at him from the bed, a strikingly lovely woman, her face full and round, flushed with exertion, and framed with a mass of now-tangled blonde hair. Blade did not let go of the club, but he lowered it a little as he spoke.
«Who the devil are you? And why are you sneaking around my quarters at night? That isn't wise, woman!»
The woman laughed deep in her throat. «Ah, warrior, I know it is not wise, but I had to get to you. I have seen you from far away, but I had to see you close, to touch you, to…» her voice trailed off and she made an explicit and unmistakable gesture.
«So you say. But who are you?» There was more suspicion in Blade's mind than he let show in his voice. He didn't want to drive this woman away unless and until he was certain she offered no opportunities-for escape, perhaps.
«A woman who wants you, my warrior. Is that not enough? Or have you lived so long with the intrigues of those dirty Pendari that you suspect even a woman who is panting for you?»
This was getting almost silly. The woman's language was so wildly exaggerated that either she was joking or she took Blade for a fool. If it was the second-well, Blade had no objection to being taken for a fool if it would keep the woman off her guard.
«I am a suspicious man, for if I were not, I would not be alive today. And you could do nothing with me. As it is-«but the woman was already rising to her feet and undoing the belt of her robe.
Standing up and watching the woman undress, Blade realized she was nearly as tall as he was, and her complexion almost as fair as his. Fairer, in fact. Blade's skin had weeks of suntan and accumulated grime darkening it. This woman's skin suggested a pampered and self-indulgent indoor existence. A lady of noble rank among the Lanyri? Perhaps, if there were any such in the huge camp. Or the mistress of some high person? More possible. The Lanyri were given to carrying their lovers of both sexes along with them, even on campaign.
The robe and hood came off and dropped to the ground. Under them she wore her golden hair under a filet set with jade and on her body a short white silk tunic. Her feet and her legs to the knees were bare. Blade noticed that the legs were long and well-turned, a perfect balance of grace and substantial flesh.