«There they are!»

Blade's sword flew clear. He drew his short sword too, and tossed it to Lady Musura. Then they darted out into the street, heading toward the wall of the Warm Gates quarter.

There were archers among the soldiers. If they had simply stood back and let fly, Blade and Lady Musura wouldn't have covered ten feet. But perhaps there were enough citizens around to make even the Hongshu's cold-blooded soldiers careful. Or more likely they all had notions of winning glory by killing or capturing the mighty Blade themselves, sword against sword.

The line broke apart as the soldiers began pushing their way toward the two fugitives. Men cursed, women screamed, children squalled in pain and terror as the soldiers used fists and spear butts. Then the crowd also broke apart as people tried to flatten themselves against the wall or run. Blade and Lady Musura found themselves caught in a logjam of people all pushing and heaving frantically. In desperation they used their own fists and elbows, struggling furiously to stay on their feet and move even a few steps toward the wall. Blade felt as though his ribs would cave in, tried to keep the points of his spears out of a child's face, stumbled over a smashed cart, and nearly went down. Sweat streamed down his face, making streaks in the dust on his skin. He couldn't help thinking that being trampled to death in a panic-stricken mob was a stinking way to go out.

Then he and the jinai woman were as much out in the open as they could be, in a little niche formed by a buttress of the wall. At the same moment five soldiers broke out of the crowd. Blade swung one of his spears down and threw it at the leader. It took him-in the groin. Clawing at the shaft, he went over backward. The other four drew their swords, but hesitated for a moment.

Lady Musura used that moment to leap catlike onto the wall. Her supple fingers and toes seemed to find holds where Blade would have suspected nothing but blank stone. She swarmed up to the top of the wall. Blade flashed a glare at her. Was she deserting him now, when-?

Before he could finish the thought, she called down, «Hold on, Blade! What I need I must find within.» She vanished down inside the wall. Blade swore under his breath. He hoped she was telling the truth. But whether she was or not, there was no reason to lie down and die. If he was going to finish it here, he would take some more of those stinking soldiers with him!

One of the soldiers screwed up his courage and leaped forward, sword high and flashing. Blade brought up his own sword and the remaining spear to guard. Then he noticed the man's clumsy positioning. Almost effortlessly Blade's spear licked out, driving into the shoulder of the man's sword arm. His fingers opened and let the sword fall. Before it clattered to the street Blade's own sword hissed down. The man's other arm flew from its shoulder. Blood sprayed the man's comrades. His howl of agony drowned out even the roar of the panic-stricken crowd.

Blade followed up his edge with a quick attack. He dropped his sword, used a two-handed grip to push the spear into the face of the next soldier, and grounded the spear. The sword leaped into his hand again, in time to meet the last two soldiers as they came in together. One swung so wildly that his sword whistled down over Blade's head and clanged against the stone. Before the man could pull back his half-numbed arm, Blade drove his short sword into the man's armpit.

That left only one soldier facing Blade. But five or six more were pushing through the crowd, ready to join in the fight. Blade knew he would have to be quick with this man.

But either the soldier was naturally cautious or the fate of his comrades had put caution into him. He stayed well out of Blade's reach, bobbing and ducking under Blade's slashes. He might not be a very good swordsman, and he certainly wouldn't have lasted more than moments against Yezjaro. But he was good enough to keep clear of Blade's sword for a minute or two. Finally he missed a step, Blade's sword sank into his neck, his head lolled helplessly-and seven of his comrades burst through the crowd to confront Blade.

As they did Blade heard something hit the ground behind him with a soft thud. One of the soldiers pointed upward, shouted in alarm-then screamed as one of Lady Musura's knives sprouted in his left eye. Blade turned and saw a thin rope trailing down the wall and Lady Musura crouching on top.

One leap took Blade five feet up the wall. His hands locked on the rope. It bit into his hands until he could feel the blood oozing, but it held his weight. He ignored the pain and hauled himself swiftly upward. One of the soldiers dashed in and aimed a cut at Blade, leaping high to deliver it. Blade felt a puff of air on his ankle as the sword flashed by, and climbed even faster.

His head and shoulders were just clear of the top of the wall when the first arrows smacked into the wall beside him. He knew the soldiers must be too confused for accurate shooting. Otherwise their first volley would have been enough. But his luck would still run out if he hung here long enough. He slapped his hands down flat on the top of the wall and sent himself flying upward and over.

Too late he saw what lay below him on the other side. More arrows whistled overhead as he plunged down, to land flat on his belly in eight feet of cold, scummy water. A fearful smell of unnameable things much too long dead rose around Blade as his head broke the scum. He spat out the scum, fought down an urge to vomit-then was submerged in another wave of muck as Lady Musura landed beside him in the moat.

«First time I've ever seen a moat inside the castle walls,» he said, trying to smile.

Lady Musura removed a long string of something mercifully unidentifiable from her hair and smiled back. «Oh, there are many strange things about the hospitality of those of the quarter of the Warm Gates.»

Outside the walls the angry roar of soldiers' voices and the shouted orders of their officers were rising to drown out the crowd noises. Then from down by the Warm Gates themselves Blade heard the unmistakable thud and boom of many fists and spear butts hammering on wood.

Blade couldn't help wondering. Would he and Lady Musura still receive the hospitality of the quarter if it involved making a stand against the Hongshu's whole army?

Chapter 18

The hospitality of the Warm Gates quarter held firm against the Hongshu's soldiers. But this was not entirely a matter of the stubbornness of the courtesans or their debts to Lady Musura. It was not even a matter of the soldiers' arrows having killed and wounded several people within the quarter.

News that the soldiers were trying to break into the Warm Gates quarter spread swiftly through Deyun. Within an hour the soldiers at the gates were hemmed in by a mob at least ten thousand strong. More soldiers appeared to disperse the crowd. Fighting started between the soldiers and some of the tougher citizens-porters, sailors, bargemen. Within two hours a tremendous riot was raging through the streets around the Warm Gates quarter. Curses, shouts, screams of fear and agony filled the air. Then came sounds of splintering wood and crackling flames as overturned stoves set fire to mats and paper partitions.

Eventually somebody in authority gathered his wits together and called off the soldiers. He was just in time. From the roof of a building inside the walls, Blade could see the riot spreading slowly but surely across the city. If it went on much longer, the Hongshu might have a full-scale revolt on his hands. That would certainly be one way of avenging Lord Tsekuin and teaching the ruler of Gaikon a badly needed lesson. But Blade didn't much care for getting thousands of innocent people killed in the process.