The woman wore a narrow mask of red leather over her eyes, and black silk gloves. She wore no jewels on her fingers or clothes. But these were her only concessions to the public modesty that custom required of noblewomen in Gaikon. Around her slender, creamy brown throat and in her black hair she wore enough diamonds to stock a fair-sized home dimension jeweler's store. The eyes that stared out through the large holes in the mask did not drop to the ground when Blade met that stare. They held his own eyes, openly, frankly, almost appraisingly. Then the initial boldness in the woman's eyes faded. Blade sensed something admiring and almost welcoming in them. He felt it so strongly and unmistakably that he wondered how Lord Tsekuin could avoid noticing it.
Whatever Lord Tsekuin noticed, it was enough to set off his temper. His eyes flared as he saw the woman peering out of her cart. His voice rose to a screech.
«Back to the castle, Lady! You shame the house out here. Back, I say!» If the glare on his face had been turned into heat, the lady, cart, horses, and drivers would have all vanished in a puff of smoke.
The lady at least had enough sense not to argue. The curtains closed behind her as the two drivers began struggling with reins and whips to get the cart turned around. Lord Tsekuin did not help matters by storming at them with shrill curses and snapping his own riding whip at the heads of the horses. But finally they clattered off toward the castle, followed by a good many stares-including Blade's.
Lord Tsekuin turned back to Yezjaro and Blade, his voice still hoarse and shaking from his burst of rage. «I am shamed for this befouling of your welcoming, worthy brothers. But I-«He threw up his hands in a gesture of disgust and despair, turned his own horse, and cantered off after the cart. His escort followed in disorderly haste.
When the last of them was out of earshot, Blade turned to Yezjaro. «The woman in the cart-that was the Lady Oyasa, wasn't it?»
«Do you think there is great wisdom in realizing that, Blade?»
«No, I think there is only the ability to see what is in front of one's eyes. And that ability I told you I have.»
«True. But there are times when a blind man may reach a higher level of wisdom than one who sees clearly.»
«No doubt there are such times. But is this one of them? Or is it a question of merely a longer life, rather than a higher level of wisdom?»
«You place so little value on life, Blade?»
«That is a question that must be answered each time one's life is in danger. If there was one answer and only one, all warriors would either die young or live to a great age.»
Yezjaro threw back his head and laughed. «Blade, if you spend enough time in Gaikon, I can conceive that your sayings will fill many scrolls, like the war words of the great dabuno Mino Tojai. You speak like a man both brave and wise. I hope your wisdom will make it possible for your bravery to receive the honors it deserves.»
Blade rather hoped so too. But there was certainly a nasty mixture of elements here in the fief of Lord Tsekuin. A young, hot tempered, and petulant lord, ill-suited to his rank and position. Diamonds that apparently could be scooped out of the ground as easily as potatoes out of a backyard garden. A strong-willed lady with a sharp eye and little wish to bow to the customs of Gaikon that governed other ladies of her rank. And hovering over them all, a greedy Hongshu who understandably lusted after that openly flaunted wealth of jewels.
Chapter 9
The next day Blade was sworn into the service of Lord Tsekuin. He received a blue robe embroidered with the gold sun and the clan badge of Tsekuin-La, two swords and a spear from the armory, and an annointing with the sacred oil of Kunkoi. Judging from the smell of the oil, it had been around nearly since the time of the Sun Goddess' last appearance in Gaikon some three thousand years before. Blade could smell it thirty yards upwind. After the castle's ninety-year old priestess of Kunkoi had rubbed the oil on Blade's arms and into his pubic hair, everyone could smell him thirty yards upwind.
Fortunately, Gaikon was a dimension in which people could and did take regular baths, with hot water and soap.
Blade settled in to learning what was required of a house dabuno in the service of Lord Tsekuin. Fortunately, he already knew or could guess most of it. As a lesser brother among the dabuni (with his temples and a strip over the top of his skull shaved), he had to sit well to the rear, look sharp, be obedient, and keep his mouth shut. That was the best possible way of learning things, anyway.
Except for the use of the distinctive curved sword, Blade already knew most of the dabuno's standard weapons. He took to the bow in particular with spectacular skill. The archery instructor might turn as white as a starched bedsheet at Blade's lack of «philosophy» in his archery. But the more practical among the dabuni pointed out that even without philosophy Blade could put eight successive arrows into a six-inch circle at four hundred yards, with the last one on its way before the first one had hit.
«Therefore,» as Yezjaro put it, «he may be forgiven having come to our philosophy somewhat late in life. Are there any who dispute this?»
There was very seldom anybody who disputed anything with Yezjaro, a notable advantage for Blade. Their friendship was further cemented when the instructor took personal charge of teaching Blade how to use the deadly sword of Gaikon. After several weeks of exercises each day, Blade knew he was a long way from being a finished swordsman by Gaikon's standards.
«I fear that at least a third of the swordsmen you would meet could now slice you up like a fisherman slicing salt bait,» said Yezjaro one afternoon. «So pick your quarrels with the other two-thirds for the moment. You have both the body and the soul of a warrior, however. It will not be long before you can take on all but a few of Gaikon's swordsmen and walk away.»
«How long is 'not long'?» asked Blade, with a grin.
«Oh, not more than four years,» said Yezjaro. «But do not despair. Even now there are not a dozen men I have met who could touch you with a spear. I know I could not. And your skill with the bow is all but something out of a legend. Any dabuno who thinks you are a helpless babe is unlikely to live long. But if you are wise and learn well, you will live long and die in your bed with your wives, concubines, numerous descendants, and a still more numerous household lamenting your passing into the arms of Kunkoi.»
«Then let us go and drink to dying in bed,» said Blade. «Though obviously bed must be the most dangerous place in the world, considering how many people die there.»
It was a hoary joke in Home Dimension, but it made Yezjaro laugh all the way to the cellar where the hot saya awaited them.
Blade saw no more of Lady Oyasa as time passed. Except when the whim took her, she apparently stayed in proper seclusion in the women's wing of the sprawling castle. The approaches to that wing were guarded by booby traps (or so Yezjaro said), by a contingent of six-foot eunuchs, and by several of Lady Oyasa's personal maids who had taken training in arms.
Yezjaro pointed out one of them as the one person in the whole castle who probably knew the most about the affairs of the warlord and his family. He also warned Blade against trifling with her.
Blade hardly needed the warning. Lady Musura was not unattractive, although rather gaunt and well into her thirties. But she sported a collection of scars on the right side of her face, and normally carried at least two knives in her sash. She was reputed to have been-when younger-a jinai, one of the sworn order of assassins and secret agents serving the Hongshu. When these grew too old, some retired to the special secluded villages maintained by the jinai clans. Others renounced safety and seclusion and remained in the outer world. Only a few took service with warlords, but even those who did always remained to some degree their own masters.