Jollya was planning to give Blade one of her hunting cats as a farewell present. The cat, named Lorma, was Hoyo's mate and she'd been taught to see Blade as a friend, defend him as she would Jollya, and obey any of Blade's orders. The cats were intelligent creatures and they could easily carry messages. Between bouts of lovemaking, Blade and Jollya worked out a simple code of marks that could be cut on Lorma's collar. To anyone else, they'd look like natural scratches.
«I don't trust my father too much more than I do Queen Tressana,» said Jollya. «The hunger for power makes men-and women-treacherous. So the more we can keep hidden from my father, the better.»
«Including this?» Blade ran his hands lightly down her back and squeezed her firm buttocks.
«Especially this,» she said, bending over so that her nipples brushed Blade's chest. He pulled her down on top of him so that she sprawled clumsily for a moment. Then she pulled free, gripped Blade's erection in one hand, and started gently nibbling on it.
When they'd first made love, Blade felt in Jollya a great deal of enthusiasm but not much experience. He thought she might need some teaching, and even welcome it. By morning, Blade wasn't completely sure who was teaching whom.
When they saw the room turning gray, they knew it was time for Jollya to leave. She rolled out of bed and began pulling on her clothes. «Do you want me to give you that wire bracelet?» she said as she pulled her tunic over her head.
«Yes.» Now that he was no longer a prisoner, he could keep it as safe as she could. More important, he could keep it out of reach of the Keepers. The fewer opportunities the Jaghdi scientists got to study it, the better.
She reached into one boot and pulled out the wire, wound tightly around a wooden rod. Then she bent over the bed, kissed him soundly, and turned away. Blade managed to stay awake until she'd vanished out the window.
Chapter 11
It seemed to Blade that he'd barely fallen asleep when the high-pitched tooting of Jaghdi trumpets and the thud of drums woke him. He peered through the shutters and saw a line of cavalrymen and chariots bearing the royal badge trotting into the courtyard. The queen's men had come for him.
The house servants came for his baggage while he was still dressing. They also brought the cat Lorma and tethered her to the foot of the bed with a braided silk leash. She seemed to be rather doubtful about the whole business, but lay quietly and even purred when Blade spoke to her and scratched her head. When he untied the leash from the bed and led her out into the hall, she went as obediently as a well-trained dog.
The whole courtyard was hazy with dust kicked up by the rolghas and chariots when Blade and Lorma came down. He saw Sikkurad on the balcony over the main door, but there was no sign of the Keeper's daughter. She was probably still asleep, and Blade rather wished he could be too.
The commander of the party stepped forward. He was obviously someone with high rank, wealth, or both. The fine tooling and heavy metal fastenings of his armor were visible even under their thick coating of dust. He was about to greet Blade when he caught sight of Lorma.
«Lord Blade, is that yours?»
«She is now.»
«You know she was Warlady Jollya's hunter?»
The commander seemed ready to be suspicious. Blade's talent for lying with a straight face came to his rescue. «She was. But Sikkurad decided I should have a guest gift. He chose Lorma.»
«I don't imagine Jollya liked that much.»
«She didn't. But she obeyed.»
The commander laughed. «Good! Time Sikkurad started reining in that mad bitch of his. Oh, she's good enough in a fight, but what good's a fighting woman?»
«I suppose that depends on where she does her fighting,» said Blade, grinning.
The commander laughed again. «You might say that.» He raised a hand in salute to Blade. «I'm Efroin of the Red Band. I'm to take you to the palace. We've got your baggage. Will you ride or do you want a chariot?»
Blade would have preferred a chariot, but after his duel with Curim's guardsmen he had a reputation for toughness to maintain. «I'll ride.»
A spare rolgha was led forward, and Blade mounted. Lorma climbed into one of the chariots and lay down on top of Blade's baggage. Then the drums and trumpets sounded again. Blade looked up at the balcony. Sikkurad was still there, but now he could also see Jollya peering out through the shutters. Then she pulled her head back quickly, before her father could turn and see her.
Efroin seemed to have orders to get Blade to the palace as fast as possible. The rolghas swept along at a bone-shaking trot, while the trumpeters cleared the road ahead and a cloud of dust hid it behind. By noon Blade was wishing he'd chosen a chariot. He was saddle-sore and half asleep, caked with sweat and dust, and his mouth felt as if it were packed with hot sand. Sheer determination was about all that kept Blade in the saddle until the first stop. When he dismounted it was a moment before he was quite sure his legs were going to hold him up. The only consolation was that his fellow riders didn't seem to be in much better shape.
He felt better after lunch, and by the time they reached the palace Blade and Efroin were the only two riders who didn't seem ready to collapse. The rolghas, Blade noted, were gray with dust but apparently ready to go on for hours more. They must have a good deal more endurance than horses, who would have collapsed from thirst and heat if pushed this hard on a hot summer day.
Green-clad servants led Blade through a labyrinth of streams, gravel paths, and carefully shaped hedges to a surprisingly small whitewashed stone building. Blade was reluctant to believe that this was the palace or even the guest house, until he saw that the doors, shutters, window gratings, front stairs, and roof decorations were all made of iron or brass. Nobody but the monarch could have afforded such a display of metal. Blade saw that Lorma had food and water, refused a meal for himself, and fell asleep across the foot of his bed without even taking off his clothes. His last thought was that if he'd done nothing else today, he'd learned how to keep a rolgha going at a good speed on a long march. This might turn out to be a useful skill.
The royal palace of Jaghd was a whole series of small buildings scattered through a park nearly a mile on a side, rather than a single large building. This let the kings practice the Jaghdi national hobby of building, and also do most of their entertaining outdoors. Jaghd had a mild climate which reminded Blade of Southern California, so he wasn't surprised to find its people fond of outdoor living.
The building where Blade had three luxurious rooms contained a number of suites which were reserved for high-ranking officers and nobles, either stationed at the palace or visiting it. Blade never met any of the visitors, but he did meet several of the officers. One of them was Curim, and at first Blade suspected Tressana was playing another of her little games: putting Curim and Blade together like two fighting cocks in a pit, and taking to her bed the one who came out alive.
If the queen was playing games, Curim had sense enough not to play along blindly. He didn't exactly embrace Blade like a long-lost brother, but he made it clear he wouldn't make the first move against the Englishman.
«I'd hold back even if you hadn't saved my life. I'm not your friend and you're not mine, but why be enemies? We'd just be playing into the hands of a certain party, who gets much pleasure from watching men battle it out.» There was no need to mention who that «certain party» was.
It undoubtedly helped that Blade was in the officers' quarters rather than in the queen's bedroom. It also probably helped that the suits of armor and weapons sent over for Blade were not nearly as elaborate as Curim's. They were well made and serviceable, but they didn't have the richness of Curim's. In a land where fighting men showed their rank and wealth by the quality of their fighting gear, that meant Curim was still a good deal higher in Tressana's favor than Blade. As long as this was so, Curim had every reason to stay at peace with Blade. And as long as it would keep his back safe, Blade was just as willing to wear the less elaborate armor.