Chapter SIXTEEN

It was just after dawn when Blade staggered up to the base of the Tower of the Leopard. He was staggering because he was carrying Kun-Rala's body in his arms, as well as the massive load of great wands on his back. Kun-Rala had been dead when he found her, her head twisted at an unnatural angle. But somehow he could not bring himself to leave her lying there where she fell. So he had picked her up and brought her with him.

Not far away he had also found Pen-Jerg, lying on his back in the middle of a patch of blood-soaked grass, his eyes staring sightlessly upward. The warrior must have been dead from his wounds even before he hit the ground. There was nothing at all to do for him. So Blade took a new, firmer grip on Kun-Rala, and staggered away into the darkness.

He was relieved to find that Bryg-Noz's entire band of two hundred had made the night's journey without trouble or detection. They were already sitting around on the grass on the outer side of the Tower of the Leopard. And he was further relieved to see lifters rising and descending steadily. The Tower of the Leopard was giving the refugees the friendly reception they had hoped for-at least for the moment.

Bryg-Noz was still on the ground, and hurried over to greet Blade. His face was grim as he stared down at Kun-Rala lying on the grass. Then he stripped off his own cloak and covered her with it. After that he was all business as he quickly drew out of the exhausted Blade the story of the night's doings.

«You say that Nris-Pol seems to be much feared and hated?» he asked when Blade came to the part Pen-Jerg had played.

«I don't know any more than what Pen-Jerg told me,» said Blade. «But he was a wise and honest man who kept his eyes open. I think we can believe what he said.»

«Good,» said Bryg-Noz. «Attacking a united Tower of the Serpent is not something the Leopards will care to try. But attacking one divided, hating its most influential warrior-that is another matter. I hope the Council of Leaders in this tower will hear us soon.»

«The Council of Leaders?»

«They do not call it the Council of Wisdom, Blade. That is one of many things you will find different in the Tower of the Leopard. But do not question them too closely. They are a proud people, who will not take kindly to being told how things are in England. And we must give them no offense.»

Blade nodded.

He had plenty of time to find «different things» in the Tower of the Leopard, because it was nearly a week before the Council of Leaders even heard the pleas of the refugees. During that week the refugees had nothing to do but eat large meals, take frequent baths, gossip with each other, and watch the life of the Tower of the Leopard go on around them.

It was impossible to call the Tower of the Leopard «democratic.» Its people ran a variation of the normal system of Melnon, but with most of the silliness and brutality that had so disgusted Blade left out. There were certainly High People, who did all the responsible jobs, and there were certainly Low People, who did all the menial work. But a person from among the Low People could rise to be a warrior or a scribe or a surgeon among the High People, just as Pen-Jerg had said. And even those who remained Low People did not have to put up with being administered to horrible deaths for minor violations of etiquette. They were expected to show polite deference to the High People, but they were not expected to grovel, and abusing one of the Low People was a serious crime. Blade could hardly say that he would enjoy living in the Tower of the Leopard. But he could at least say that living there would not drive him mad, the way living elsewhere in Melnon would.

The Tower of the Leopard was also much closer to a matriarchy than any of the other towers, from what Blade could see. The Council of Leaders consisted of ten women, who had to vote unanimously in crucial matters such as the war against the Tower of the Serpent. There was no queen. Instead the ten women who served on the council for life rotated the chairmanship among themselves for a year at a time. The First Warrior, First Surgeon, etc., existed, but did not sit at the council table except by invitation, and had no voting rights. On the other hand, the male officials had much more freedom to run their offices according to their best judgment. Nobody that Blade met in the Tower of the Leopard gave the War or the Peace Wisdom much more than lip service.

That, as Blade had suspected, was the reason behind the spruce and disciplined appearance that the tower's warriors made in public-and their deadly efficiency in fighting. The Tower of the Leopard knew that it was a minority of one among neighbors who hated it and its ways. Its sole salvation lay in making sure that it could fight as well as they could-or better. And it had succeeded. For at least the past five generations the other towers had agreed that there was nothing they could do about the Tower of the Leopard and its strange customs. Not, that is, without themselves throwing the War and Peace Wisdoms to the four winds. This was an even more appalling idea than letting the Tower of the Leopard strictly alone.

Understandably, the Council of Leaders took a dim view, of an all-out war against another tower, particularly a war that would inevitably lead to a social revolution all over Melnon. Bryg-Noz made no effort to hide his planned final goal, in spite of Blade's advice that he conceal it. In fact, if it hadn't been for the great wands and the threat of Nris-Pol's getting his hands on them, the whole notion of aiding the Serpent revolution would have been turned down.

If Nris-Pol did try to get his hands on the great wands he would solve everybody's problems. And the solution would be heard and seen all over Melnon. But that was not Bryg-Noz's choice of solutions. He did not want to see his native tower smashed by Nris-Pol's mad ambitions. He wanted to smash Nris-Pol first. And so did Blade.

So they demonstrated the great wands. In Blade's now well-trained hands, one of them whiffed a couple of condemned criminals into the usual red mist. That opened a good many eyes among the Leopards. Bryg-Noz's descriptions of Nris-Pol and his ambitions opened a good many more. Within a couple of days, at least the warriors of the Leopards were enthusiastic advocates of war.

«In fact,» said Blade to Bryg-Noz one evening, «I have the feeling there's more to their wanting war than meets the eye.»

«How?»

«They tend to feel a little-well, downtrodden-being this much under the rule of women. I think they see this war as the best chance they'll ever have to get out and do something on their own.»

«Perhaps. But their wanting war doesn't make any difference. The Council of Leaders has to give its unanimous consent, and so far they haven't even invited us to speak before them.»

The long-awaited invitation came a few days later, but produced nothing. Bryg-Noz and Blade went before the Council of Leaders. They presented the same case they had already presented a dozen times before to the ten women, the youngest barely thirty, the oldest a wrinkled but sharp-witted crone who must have been well past a hundred. All ten listened politely, but the Principal Leader apparently spoke for all of them when she said:

«We will consider this idea. It is a great departure from all that has gone before. Though we do not bow to the War and Peace Wisdom here in the Tower of the Leopard, we do consider what will be good for our tower. And we cannot say at this moment whether what you ask will be good for it. Come again in time, ask again, and perhaps you will receive an answer.»

Needless to say, Bryg-Noz flew into a towering rage-as soon as he was out of the council room. Blade spent a good deal of time in calming him down. Finally he got some wine into the Serpents' leader, and then some more wine, and then still more wine. Before too long Bryg-Noz was in a state where he would have praised the War and Peace Wisdoms if Blade had asked him to. Instead, Blade suggested that perhaps they didn't need to wait for the Council of Leaders to approve everything.