The barge bumped alongside. The man scrambled forward from the stern and sprang lightly up Kukon's side onto the foc'sle. Blade, Prince Durouman, and Dzhai met him there, all dressed in their best clothes, weapons, and armor.
«Greetings,» said the man. «I am Emass, Speaker for the Seven Brothers.»
«Greetings, Emass,» said Blade. He introduced the other two men. Wine was brought, and all four men solemnly drank a cup and ate bread and salt fish.
«It is our wish to bring our message before the Seven Brothers,» said Blade when they'd finished. «Is it the wish of the Seven Brothers to hear us?»
«It is,» said Emass. «It is also their wish that I bring you before them now.»
Blade and Prince Durouman exchanged looks, then both nodded in unison. Blade turned to Dzhai. «Captain Dzhai, Kukon is in your charge. Let nothing happen that is unworthy of all she has done before.» There was no harm in reminding the pirates that this galley and these same men had fought furiously against them before and could do so again if necessary. It might help the pirates keep their tempers enough to remember their honor and the truce.
Dzhai nodded and raised his good arm in a salute. «It shall be done, Prince Blade.»
Blade and Durouman turned and followed Emass down into the barge.
After it was all over, Blade was never quite able to sort out the details of the negotiations with the Seven Brothers. The negotiations lasted three days. After the first few hours, everything became a blur in Blade's mind, and he retained only a few clear impressions.
There were the four Steppemen, observers who sat in on all the negotiations, the first Blade had ever seen in the flesh. They were short, squarely built men, with skinny legs spectacularly bowed from a lifetime on horseback. They wore leather vests and trousers; their main weapons were long, curved, two-handed swords worn slung across the back. Their dark hair was braided into two pigtails and they wore beards trimmed into points and stiffened with strong-smelling grease.
The seven Brothers of Nongai, along with Emass, sat at a long table of waxed driftwood pegged and tied together. All wore faded tunics, most wore fur jackets over the tunics in spite of the warmth of the room, and all were armed to the teeth. No two of them wore their hair or beards in the same style, but all had one other thing in common. All were in deadly fear of the attack Emperor Kul-Nam was preparing to launch against them.
They concealed it well, of course. The Steppemen did not appear to notice it, but Blade and Prince Durouman were more experienced observers, with keener eyes. They knew that they were negotiating with men desperate for aid against a dreaded enemy, and not much caring from where it came as long as it came.
They were also negotiating with men who tended to think more in terms of ships at sea than of horsemen on land. That was an advantage. The Seven Brothers would more readily accept an alliance that offered them a fleet than one that offered them an army. Now all that remained was to convince the Seven Brothers that Prince Durouman would indeed bring a fleet to their aid.
That was the hardest part of the whole job of negotiating. Once more Blade felt like a door-to-door salesman. The customers were even more stubborn, and this time the sales talk went on for days instead of hours.
The Steppemen listened intently, their dark eyes switching from Blade to the Seven Brothers and back again. They seldom spoke, and when they did, it was usually through an interpreter. When they spoke themselves, their accents were so thick that neither Blade nor the prince nor the Seven Brothers could understand more than about half of what they said.
Eventually the Seven Brothers and Emass declared that they had heard all they needed to hear from both sides. They would go forth, speak to all the Free Brothers, and return with their decision.
It was two days before that decision was announced. Blade and Prince Durouman were too busy catching up on lost sleep and missed meals to have time to be nervous during those days. But they were still surprised at the decision of the Seven Brothers.
«We have decided,» Emass said solemnly, «that we shall make no decision at this time. That which we have heard and seen is not enough for us to decide with the wisdom that is needed for the safety of the Free Brothers.»
Emass looked at Prince Durouman. «Lord Prince. Have you in your company a warrior of great strength and skill, fit to serve as your champion?»
Prince Durouman hesitated a second, then nodded. «I have. He is Prince Blade, who stands here before you.»
«Good.» Emass asked the same question of the Steppemen's envoys. Their champion was not among the four envoys, but they could produce one-or even a dozen-if necessary.
«It will be necessary,» said Emass drily. «We have decided that a champion of Prince Durouman and a champion of the Steppemen shall do battle to the death. They shall do battle tomorrow, on horseback, before all those present here. That side whose champion gains the battle shall be permitted to enter into alliance with us, according to our laws and customs. This is our decision. Go forth and prepare for battle.»
If Blade had indulged in his first impulse, he would have drawn his sword and started hacking off the heads of the Seven Brothers, one by one, until he was killed. That impulse did not last long. But rage and incomprehension were still bubbling inside him when he and Prince Durouman returned to Kukon.
«This is as mad as anything Kul-Nam himself might have done!» he exploded.
Prince Durouman pulled at his beard, his face screwed up in a particularly intense frown. Then he shook his head. «I wonder. There may be a good reason for this-or a reason that seems good to the Brothers.»
Blade laughed. «For the moment, that's the same thing. All right, I'll believe just about anything at this point. What is their reason?»
«It helps conceal the fact that they're frightened. Would frightened men let a major decision rest on something so frivolous as a battle between champions? Of course not. That's what they hope we and the Steppemen will think. Then they can drive a harder bargain with the winner.»
Blade grimaced. The reasoning of the Seven Brothers made a good deal of sense, if Prince Durouman was right about it.
Unfortunately, that reasoning was going to put him squarely in the middle of a duel to the death!
Chapter 22
Blade slept well that night. Before going to bed he spent a couple of hours with Prince Durouman discussing the fight tomorrow.
«You must strike at the man, not at the horse,» the prince said. «You can only strike at your opponent's horse if you yourself are dismounted and somehow survive long enough to launch an attack.»
Blade nodded. «Perhaps I shouldn't even bother mounting a horse in the first place.»
«I doubt very much if they would allow that, Blade.»
«Very well. The swords are designed for use from horseback, certainly. I have used such before. I see no problem.»
That was not entirely true. If he was not on foot, he would be riding a Steppe horse. There was no other kind on hand. The Steppe horses were tough, strong, and extremely agile. The battle tactics of the Steppemen made full use of these qualities.
Blade knew that he could manage any horse and use any kind of weapon from horseback. What he doubted was the ability of the horse to stand up under what he might have to make it do. The average Steppeman was six inches shorter than Blade and sixty pounds lighter. How long could even a Steppe horse twist and turn under a load so much greater than normal?
The morning dawned dry and bright, with scattered clouds and a brisk west wind. As Blade stepped ashore from Kukon's boat, all the banners and flags stood out bold and stiff in the breeze-the horsetail banners of the Steppemen, the great rayed flag of the Seven Brothers, the pine branches of the tribesmen, the personal flags of the pirate captains, the truce flags still flying aboard Kukon.