Breathe-breathe-breathe-in an endless rhythm. Blade didn't know how long he'd been at work, and didn't want to guess. Then as he pulled his mouth away from hers, he felt a warm breath on his cheek. He didn't stop the rhythm until he'd felt her breathe four more times, and he didn't stand up until Rhodina's eyes flickered open. At that point Khraishamo let out a wild cry and gripped Rhodina in his arms so fiercely that Blade was afraid he'd stop her breath again.
Blade turned his back and walked a few yards away. He was now quite sure that Sarumi warriors could weep, and his own eyes weren't entirely dry. It was Rhodina's voice that brought him back to her side.
«If you two do all this when I come to life, I won't dare die.»
«No, beloved, you don't,» said Khraishamo, his voice steady for the first time since he'd carried her out of the water. He stood up. «Let's get her into shelter, Blade. Somebody might come along.»
Nobody came along while they were carrying Rhodina into the trees, and after that they didn't know or care. It was enough to be out of the wind, nearly beyond the roar of the waves, with the smell of growing things around them and grass and damp leaves underfoot. After three weeks in a small boat, Blade found that something solid and motionless underfoot felt vaguely unnatural.
After a while, he stretched and said, «Well, we're as close to Mythor as we're going to get by sea. The rest of the trip we do on foot. Rhodina, are there any rebels we can trust this far north of Mythor?»
She nodded. «Not here along the shore, though. Not north of the city. Merchantmen, galleys, they stop here too often, with too many soldiers and too many eyes to watch. In there-«-she pointed eastward through the trees-«yes, several.»
«How far?»
«Three, four days, if we go fast.»
«I don't think we're going to go fast without food and clothes,» said Blade. «In fact, I don't think we're going to go anywhere at all until we've begged a meal and some shoes.»
Khraishamo nodded. «That's good sense. But how are we going to find someone who won't run away screaming or call the soldiers when they see us?»
Khraishamo had a point. He himself was easily recognizable as Sarumi, and he was also stark naked. Blade wore only a pair of trousers, split to mid-thigh along one leg. Rhodina's costume might have made her a fortune in London as a topless dancer, but here it would only attract unwanted attention.
«I'll beg for the three of us,» said Blade. «I can say I'm a shipwrecked sailor-«
«The gods know that's true enough,» said Rhodina, laughing.
«Yes. And you two can explore along the shore, to see if you can get clothes and weapons from any of the bodies. I think there are going to be a lot of those.» Both the others nodded grimly.
Chapter 19
Blade found it easy to pass himself off as a shipwrecked sailor, half-starved and nearly out of his wits from hardship and the loss of his mates. In fact, his main problem was not in getting sympathy and help but in refusing offers to put him to bed and nurse him back to health and sanity.
The women were particularly generous. Half of them seemed to already know they'd lost husbands, brothers, or sons in the storm. The other half were sick with fear that a man of theirs caught out in the storm might not be returning. Blade found it easy to carry away more food than he suspected even his half-starved comrades would be able to eat.
He was wrong. Khraishamo and Rhodina emptied the basket Blade set before them down to the last crumb, scrap, and drop of cider. Then the pirate chief belched happily and put his arm around Rhodina. For the first time in many days he looked happy.
«Now I think the next thing we do is sleep.»
Blade nodded. He wouldn't have bet a penny on his staying awake another ten minutes. There was no shelter overhead except the branches of the trees, but as long as they were on land and out of the wind Blade didn't care. He also didn't see much point in anyone keeping watch. It would be many hours, perhaps days, before the storm blew out and let normal traffic along the shore start again.
Blade lay down on the opposite side of a thick tree from Khraishamo and Rhodina, and heard them both snoring just before he fell asleep himself.
They awoke in a drenching rain, as soaked as if they'd just staggered out of the sea again. They started off in a drenching rain, begged their breakfast in the rain, ate it in the rain. This went on for every hour of the first two days of their march inland.
Blade knew he shouldn't have been surprised. Storms like this hitting land frequently turned into downpours. That didn't make it any more pleasant to be continuously soaked to the skin, unable to build a fire or even keep food dry for ten minutes, blinded and deafened by lightning and thunder, occasionally menaced by falling trees, chilled to the bone, and always unsure of where he was and which way he was going.
The only consolation was that they didn't have to hide by day, but could march boldly along as fast as the sodden ground would let them. Along the shore there'd been shipwrecked sailors. Inland there were even more people driven from their homes by the storm and the floods it brought. Blade, Rhodina, and Khraishamo were just three more refugees from disaster.
«I suppose I ought to be happy, seeing my enemies suffering like this,» said Khraishamo during one brief stop. «But then I remember they're Rhodina's people. The idea that they're 'the enemy' isn't so strong in me anymore.»
Blade was happy to hear this. It made it even easier to trust Khraishamo. He still couldn't trust the pirate with his private thoughts about what might follow in the wake of the storm.
Mythor was going to be battered, reeling, ready to be grateful for any help and vengeful toward anyone who inflicted more injury. This would be a golden opportunity for either Harkrat or Kloret to step forward as the generous friend of the suffering Mythorans. If Harkrat was able to move first, he might be able to stifle the rebellion for many years and strengthen his position at home. If Kloret was able to move first, he might either stifle the rebellion-or turn the rebels to his side.
Who would move first? Harkrat had more resources, but he also had all the new responsibilities of ruling Gohar. Kloret might easily sabotage the Emperor's efforts to aid Mythor, delaying them until he himself could step forward to aid the storm-stricken city. The rebels themselves might not wait for any Goharan, but take advantage of the confusion and discontent to strike now. What were the odds on that? Rhodina might have known once, but her information was now the better part of a year out of date.
Three days' marching took them well clear of the coast, up into the hills to the east of Mythor. North of the city, the hills stretched away in a tangled maze of crests and valleys into unexplored wilderness. Farther south, they flattened out into broad plains. On those plains lived the fourteen tribes of the Maghri. They were more civilized than the horsemen across the Sea, who'd driven the Sarumi onto their peninsula. They were also even more formidable in war, and only a little safer to have as neighbors. The menace of the horsemen wasn't yet as serious as the menace of the pirates, so it hadn't played as big a part in Mythor's relations with the mother city. However, there were rumors of a new aggressiveness which might change this.
By the end of the third day's march, Khraishamo threw back the hood he'd used to disguise himself as human, and strode along bareheaded. He said he liked the feel of the rain on his face. Rhodina cheerfully told him that he'd gone mad.
On the other hand, the country was more rugged, there were fewer bridges across rain-swollen streams, and many fewer houses where they could beg food. Blade hoped they'd find some rebel sympathizers before hunger forced them to turn chicken thief to stay alive.