There was an angry growl of agreement from the men on Kukon's deck and a ripple of movement that ran from aft toward where Blade and the four officers stood. Blade realized that his crew might soon reach the end of their patience and heave the four officers into the harbor or batter them to death with oars and boathooks. Then there would be a bloody shambles, ending in death for everyone aboard Kukon.
The four officers seemed to realize the same thing and lost interest in having more fun at Blade's expense if the price of their fun would be their own deaths. Their eyes met, and the first officer spoke to Blade.
«Captain-Blade, it is not for us to decide who you are or what this ship may be. That is for Her Grace to decide, and Her Grace alone. Do you consent to accompany us into her presence, along with one of your officers?»
Luun and many of the crew laughed out loud at the officers' sudden about-face. Blade kept his own expression serious and turned to Dzhai.
«Captain Dzhai, will you accompany me to pay our respects to Her Grace Princess Tarassa and assure her of our friendship?»
Dzhai took his cue and nodded soberly. «I will, my lord prince.»
Now it was Luun's turn. «Officer Luun!»
«Aye?»
«You are in command of the ship until Dzhai or I return.»
«Aye.»
«If neither of us has returned by sunset, you may assume that we have met with treachery. You shall then put all Her Grace's men ashore, send the men to their battle stations, and depart from Parine.»
Luun frowned. «We 'ud rather coom up arter ye.»
Blade shook his head. «There will be no effort made to rescue either of us. Think only of the safety of the ship and the other men, not of us.»
Reluctantly Luun nodded, and raised one knotted, hairy hand in a ragged salute. «Aye, lord.»
Blade turned back to the four officers. «Are you ready to take Captain Dzhai and me before Her Grace?»
The four officers stared, and one of them waved a hand in Blade's general direction. For a moment Blade was certain someone was going to raise objections to his or Dzhai's clothing. He counted to ten, then twenty. By the time he'd counted to thirty, the officers had apparently thought better of making any such remarks.
«Come, then,» said the first officer. He turned and led the other three down the gangplank. Blade followed, and Dzhai fell in behind him.
Chapter 17
Beyond the fortified gate at the foot of the quay, Blade and Dzhai mounted small, sturdy horses and rode up the narrow, twisting street from the harbor.
Overhead the upper stories of the stone houses almost touched, throwing the street below into shade. On either side cobbled streets hardly wider than alleys wound away out of sight. Blade caught distant glimpses of yellow- and red-tiled roofs with white brick chimneys. Beyond the roofs was blue sky with patches of clouds and mountains studded with olive groves.
At the top of the hill the city's walls curled around the rim of the harbor. Here a dozen more mounted men joined the party. They rode on through a gate that was almost a tunnel. The walls were thirty feet thick at the base, built of enormous blocks of blackish stone now crusted and green with immense age. Then they rode out into the sunshine.
Blade looked back at the city's fortifications as they rode on. At intervals of a hundred yards the great wall was broken by towers. From ports in the towers peeped the muzzles of guns. Everything in sight was massive and square. The fortifications of Parine were old, but certainly the city would not fall easily. An army with less than five thousand men and a good array of heavy guns would be wasting its time trying to take Parine. As for anything in the harbor-
As for anything in the harbor, if it did come to a fight Kukon and her men were finished. All they would be able to do against the guns and the forts would be to die gallantly.
Blade had never expected anything else. He and Luun had been putting on an act for the benefit of the officers. They were pretending to be completely careless of the odds against them, ready to fight, apparently believing they had some chance to win, but ready to die.
Their bluff might work. A man who appears not to care whether he lives or dies is a terrifying opponent. Most people will get out of his way, and few will casually provoke him. Blade had done his best to intimidate Tarassa's hot-tempered officers into keeping the peace.
The road from the city wound toward a range of hills that spread across the northwest horizon. It passed through more olive groves, vineyards, stone-walled fields where goats roamed, and groves of squat, spreading trees with dark wood and pale bark. Blade saw men at work in those groves, cutting down some of the trees and sawing them up into planks. The wood seemed as hard as iron-Blade saw the man gasping and their bodies running with sweat. The planks- themselves looked far too small to be of much use for building.
Dzhai noticed Blade's curiosity. «They make barrels, Prince Blade. They cut the planks up into staves and then make barrels, which are very tough and strong. Sometimes they last for years on the bottom of the sea, and when they are picked up the wine or grain inside is still good.»
Blade nodded politely, but he could not take much interest in even the best barrels. Not until Kukon was assured of a safe reception.
The road now twisted its way back and forth up into the hills. Several times everyone had to dismount and lead their horses in single file.
Here and there the hills were crowned by low, squat stone forts, hard to see unless you were looking for them. At least two of them overlooked every pass and valley in the hills, and deceptively narrow paths formed a network linking them all together. Blade realized that he and Dzhai weren't just riding into a range of hills. They were riding into a well laid out and well defended stronghold. The beauty of the day and of the island scenery couldn't conceal this fact.
A few minutes later the party turned left and began rapidly descending a steep slope. They went down it at a clumsy trot, the horses barely staying on their feet and loose stones clattering down along with them. They swept through a pass that was hardly more than a slit in a solid rock wall, with another squat fort overlooking it. Then they rode into the valley beyond.
Blade could not keep from staring about him as they made their way into the valley. He'd guessed that they were approaching Princess Tarassa's private citadel and had expected to see a structure as grim and forbidding as the House of Blood, bristling with guns and towering above a lifeless wasteland of gravel and bare stone.
Instead he saw a low, rambling building of white marble with a roof of gilded tile. In its windows was stained glass richly colored with powdered coral or screens of bronze or worked driftwood. The building was set around several marble pools, where fish of a dozen different colors swam lazily. White gravel paths ran up to it between rows of tall, straight pines. Under the trees lurked lowering shrubs, great patches of roses flaming red and yellow, and beautifully kept lawns dotted with marble benches and fountains.
Blade forced himself to stop staring, but he could not force himself to stop wondering. This was the home of Princess Tarassa of Parine. This was a house so gorgeously sensual that it was almost erotic.
What sort of woman lived in it?
The princess had been warned of her approaching visitors. A dozen servants and two armed soldiers in silk tunics and silvered helmets waited for the party as it rode up to the house. Blade suspected that if the princess hadn't been warned, there would have been nobody in sight, but musketeers, archers, and spearmen would have been lurking behind every window and in every tree. The forts up in the hills were a formidable barrier in themselves, but anyone wise enough to maintain those forts would also be wise enough to take precautions against soldiers slipping by them.