The grand presentation of the Champion of the Gods to the Consecrated of Kano took place on schedule. Blade and Katerina stood on a dais in the High Chamber of the House of the Consecrated. Four of the senior Consecrated held a purple canopy trimmed with gold over them. Katerina wore a long white robe and a small gold circlet in her hair. Blade wore a larger circlet set with jewels. Otherwise he was naked except for a jeweled loinguard and a sword. He was bathed and oiled and perfumed, he looked magnificent and inspiring, and he felt thoroughly ridiculous. But his own life and Katerina's, and perhaps the safety of Kano as well, depended on his playing his part, so he knew he would keep a straight face if it killed him!

Fortunately, Tyan kept his presentation short. He didn't have to whip up the Consecrated to a pitch of religious hysteria. They did the job themselves. They howled and shrieked and sobbed in ecstasy. Tyan had to station his three trumpeters around the dais with long staves, or the Consecrated might have scrambled up onto it and mobbed the Champion. It was clear that none of the Consecrated doubted Tyan's story, or Blade's truly being the Champion of the Gods. These people desperately wanted to believe in Blade, and in the kindness of gods who had sent him to Kano at the last moment.

Blade felt much easier in his mind about the whole affair after seeing his reception by the Consecrated. Physically, he still felt ready to drop, and Katerina stumbled and swayed as she walked along beside him. On top of everything else, they'd had to do the whole ceremony on empty stomachs. Fasting was also part of the custom.

Eventually they were left alone, in a room with a large canopied bed and a large table completely covered with silver dishes of food. For a little while Blade wasn't sure what he should do first. Hunger won out. He helped Katerina to a chair, sat down, and passed her the first dish that came to hand. Somehow she managed to find the strength to pick up knife and spoon and begin eating.

Food and wine made both of them feel clearheaded and alert enough to talk. There was no way Blade could avoid admitting to Katerina that he'd been in this Dimension before, so he didn't try. After a while he found himself telling her most of what had happened to him the first time he had been in Kano.

Once again, they were in a clear-cut survival situation. Katerina's knowing what had happened could endanger the security of the Project. On the other hand, her not knowing could endanger both of them, here and now. Speaking frankly was by far the more sensible solution.

Katerina didn't seem to have any trouble following his story. By now she was probably getting more or less used to the incredible happening to her or to Blade. She asked a few questions, but for the most part listened in silence. When Blade had finished, however, she nodded and spoke.

«The Second Consecrated-Jormin-was he the one on the right front of the canopy?»

Blade nodded. «I suppose Tyan made him stand there to teach him humility.»

Katerina laughed, but without amusement. «That is a man who will never learn humility. I do not think it was wise to put him so close to us.»

«Do you think he recognized me?»

«He was not looking at you, Blade. He was looking at me. I did not like the way he was looking.»

«How was that?»

«It is not a way you would recognize, Blade. You are a man. Jormin has the look of a man who has suddenly become obsessed with a woman. A sick look. I–I have seen it before. It will make him a terrible enemy to you, that the woman he wants is yours.»

The KGB was notoriously full of psychopaths. Blade was quite sure that Katerina was telling the truth when she said she'd seen that look before. Was she telling the truth about having seen it in Jormin? She might be. The man was mad enough for practically anything.

Katerina went on. «I think-I think that if I let him speak to me-he might say what is in his mind. If he plans anything against us, I can learn it. If he does not, then that is one less thing we have to think about.»

Yes, thought Blade. You could also tell him who I really am, and get me killed off. Again he balanced risks. Katerina might try to betray him. But would even Jormin believe her? If she was believed, she would probably involve herself in his downfall. The Kanoans, enraged at the betrayal of their hopes, would kill her as well as Blade.

She might also do exactly what she was promising. Why not, in fact? She must know enough about the Project by now to realize that sooner or later they would be returning to England. If they returned together, she could hope that he would save her from immediate execution. That in turn, respite, could give her a chance to escape or get her information out later. If he died here and she somehow survived to return to Home Dimension, she might be killed the minute she appeared in the chair at the complex. She certainly would have no chance to escape or to send out information. J would see to that.

Blade kept turning the question over and over in his mind, and slowly realized what was making it hard for him to decide.

He did not want to believe that Katerina would betray him. He was not quite in danger of falling in love with a KGB agent. He was losing some of his professional detachment where Katerina was concerned. For a long time now they had shared dangers, protected each other, and made love. It was becoming hard to remember that Katerina had been an enemy and could become one again.

She would not become an enemy here in Kano. That was his answer and his decision, for better or for worse.

Blade reached toward the wine jug, to refill his cup and Katerina's. He was interrupted by a soft thud and a gentle snore. He looked to see that Katerina's head had sagged forward onto the table. Her hair was trailing over the remains of a chicken. He sprang up, ready to shout for help, then she snored again. Blade laughed. Katerina was sound asleep, and nothing more.

That was hardly surprising. It was high time they both got some sleep. He bent down, lifted Katerina gently, and carried her off toward the bed.

The sign on the door to his chamber said that Jormin was Meditating. Inside the chamber the Second Consecrated sat on the ceremonial rug, in the correct posture, his eyes closed. Anyone seeing him would have called him a model of devoutness, assuming his inner vision to be fixed upon the gods and their wisdom.

Actually, his inner vision was fixed upon the blond woman who had come to Kano with the man Tyan called Champion of the Gods. He saw her as he wanted her, sprawled naked on the floor of his cell, bruises and welts dark on her pale flesh, doing his bidding, begging and whimpering for the chance to do his bidding.

He would cheerfully have gone into the Mouth of the Gods afterward if he could have made that vision a reality, even once.

Fortunately, there was no need to pay such a price. Others would pay it for him. Others-the people of Kano. If he could deliver the city to Dahrad Bin Saffar and the Raufi, surely-surely they would deliver the woman to him. The woman, and at least some of the power he had always dreamed of wielding.

It would stay a dream now, unless he struck hard and soon. How Tyan had managed this travesty, this «Champion of the Gods» spectacular, Jormin did not know or care. He did know that the First Consecrated had made his position utterly secure by it. Perhaps Tyan could even cast down the Second Consecrated. It was some three hundred years since that had happened, but a First Consecrated who could claim to have the gods in his pocket could do much. Jormin trembled, with fear as well as with desire for the blond woman.

He could not yield up Kano singlehanded, of course. He would need the help of the Jade Masters, and doubtless they would demand a share in the rule of Kano after the Raufi came. They wouldn't demand the woman, however. Anything else they could have, and perhaps in time he could find ways of easing them out of even that.