Before Blade could move an inch Silora came over to him and knelt down beside him. She bowed her head over Blade's middle, then shook it until her hair was flowing down over her shoulders and breasts. It flowed on down over Blade's genitals, caressing them with a thousand tiny soft delicate brushes. Then Silora began to slowly sway back and forth from the waist. The movement sent exciting little shudders through the taut flesh of her small, perfect breasts. It also drew her hair back and forth across Blade, which was far more exciting. His desire rose further, and his body began to show it. He would not have believed that what Silora was doing could draw such a response from him, no matter how much skill a woman put into it. But he couldn't deny that she was doing it.

Blade had not wanted to move for fear of alarming the woman. Now he could not have moved if he had wanted to. His body would not obey his brain any more. It would obey only its own desperate desire to receive more of the caresses of Silora's hair.

How long she could have gone on this way Blade never knew. He did know that he was about to throw caution to the winds and reach out for her when she took the next step herself. It was a short step, and it left her astride his body. Then she gently lowered herself onto him, taking the whole of his erection into herself so slowly that she seemed to be wanting to test his massive member an inch at a time. Blade saw her eyes widen and the muscles of her throat tighten as he entered her, and the rise and fall of her breasts quickened. Her nipples were small but very distinct, dark brown, and now standing out hard and surprisingly long.

Then Silora closed her eyes and began to rock back and forth and twist around and around with Blade inside her. She moved slowly at first, without any pattern, feeling her way along. Then she found a pattern that pleased her, and she began to move faster.

Blade did not move. A move would no longer frighten Silora away-she wouldn't notice. But on top of what he was already getting Blade knew any movement of his own might push him to climax and beyond. He didn't want that now, not with this woman. With this woman it was more important than ever before to match his pace to hers, however hard he had to fight for it, whatever he had to do to manage it. He knew as clearly as if it was written across the night sky above that she must reach her peak first. That would set his lovemaking apart from anything she had ever experienced before, and Blade wanted to be certain of doing that. It was no longer just a question of getting out of her all the information the people so badly needed. It was a matter of kindness and decency on his part toward a woman who had been hurt in so many ugly ways.

Silora kept on. Her eyes were no longer wide, but shut tight, and a tear traced a path down each cheek. The water was drying off her now, but beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead and neck and breasts as she moved. Her mouth tightened into a line that looked more grim than ecstatic. Blade was beginning to wonder if she was somehow beyond reaching a climax, if the damage over the years hadn't been too great. But he didn't know, he couldn't know, he had to hold on. He had to hold on, and if holding on meant dying he would die and there was an end to the matter.

A moment later Silora's mouth opened, but not to smile. She let out a wide-mouthed, almost terrifying yell, that went floating away across the lake into the silent darkness of the plain. There was pain in that yell-real pain-but also triumph, joy, surprise-all mixed together in a terrible, wonderful confusion. The tears turned from a trickle into a flood, sweat broke out all over her body, her pelvic muscles jerked in a frantic rhythm, her body arched and bowed and twisted. Then she started sagging forward, eyes glazed. If she had to save both her life and Blade's by a single extra movement, they would both have died on the spot.

Blade's own moment arrived as Silora sagged forward onto his chest. He clutched at her until his fingers dug into the firm flesh of her thighs and buttocks and twisted his own hips around as his terribly pent-up beat jetted upward into her. As that jetting came to an end Silora collapsed onto him, as boneless as a jellyfish and for the moment as helpless as one cast up on the beach after a storm. Blade did not need to disturb her and wouldn't have done so even if he had needed to.

How much time passed before Silora's eyes flickered open, Blade didn't know or care. The same warm bath of satisfied desire was washing over both of them. But eventually he found her dark eyes staring into his, and her lips curling in another smile. Then she raised herself on her elbows and looked down the length of his body, then the length of hers.

«What are you looking for, Silora?»

«You wouldn't believe me if I told you. The shtafari-«

«-are not here. I am not one of them, not a Principal Technician of War, not even a Very Unimportant Technician of War!»

For some reason his feeble joke made her giggle and then laugh long and loud. «No, you are not anything of that sort,» she said, after catching her breath. «I think it is time we found out more about what we really are, as you said. I do not know for certain what you will do with what you learn, Mazda. But I am as certain as I need to be that you will not use it to hurt me or the Peace Lords. That is something new for me. Just how new, perhaps you will understand in time.»

Chapter 23

They stayed in their Adam-and-Eve home by the little lake for several more days. By the end of that time Blade understood clearly why a bout of healthy lovemaking was something so rare and wonderful for Silora. He also knew nearly everything he needed to know about the Looters in order to continue the people's fight against them. He did not know enough to guarantee victory, but no general ever knew that much. So Blade did not worry. He and Silora would do their best.

To start with, there were two different groups among the Looters: the shtafari-which meant «mercenaries»-and the Peace Lords. Most definitely they were not on good terms. Silora made it clear that the two groups in Konis got along about as well as sheep and wolves.

The Looters could indeed travel between dimensions, and in fact had been doing so for nearly a century. That was one of the causes of their present problems. When Blade heard this, he could not quite manage to stay seated or keep his face straight. Eventually he had to tell Silora his full story, swearing her to secrecy beforehand.

«Do you think that the people of Konis have ever reached your-your England on earth, you call it?»

Blade shook his head. «Not with their war machines. If they did, they would be discovered quickly. And most of them would not get back to Konis.»

«That is likely, from what you tell me. But for the moment the mercenaries are here in Tharn. If they are to be fought, it must be here.»

«Too true, unfortunately.»

Konis was, or had been, a nation of the world in Silora's «Home Dimension.» It was a world with a history as long and complex as earth's. But most of that history had nothing to do with what Blade faced in Tharn now. The part that did began only about a century before, with a full-scale global atomic war.

«No one knows any more what caused it. Most of those who did were killed in the war. But the principle of travel among the dimensions was discovered in Konis about then. Perhaps some of the nations that were our enemies got word of the discovery and decided to try to destroy us before we gained too great an advantage over them.»

«Possibly.» It was a sobering thought for Blade. What would England's enemies say if they knew about Project Dimension X? What would even her friends say-and do?