After a week, Blade was beginning to find life boring, and to wonder what came next. He seemed to be spending most of his time in this Dimension waiting for someone else to tell him what to do. He didn't like waiting around, especially when he had some important work to do.
In order to break the boredom, Blade willingly accepted Curim's invitation to a masked party in one of the open-air pavilions. «Not a big party, you understand,» said the guardsman. «Forty, fifty people, everyone masked. That way, everyone can do more of what they want to do.» The expression cut Curim's face left no doubt of what he wanted to do. Blade was tempted to ask him what the queen would say about this kind of party, but knew what the answer would be even if the guard captain was feeling friendly enough to tell him. Everyone knew about Tressana's fondness for good company in bed, and most people accepted it, just as the queen accepted it in her subjects.
No doubt Tressana would tell Blade what she wanted when she wanted it, and not before. Once again Blade felt angry at having to wait for someone else to act before he could get to work. At this rate he'd be snatched back to Home Dimension before he even got to the queen's bed. That would leave the Keepers without their spy, Jollya without a weapon against her father, and the Project without any results from this whole mission. No, that wasn't quite right-there was the wire. But that was a pretty small return for the amount of work involved in sending Blade into Dimension X.
Blade decided to forget about the pressure of time and concentrate on having a good time at the party.
The smell of roasting meat drifted through the line of trees from the open-pit hearths on the far side. Blade walked down a gravel path with a wooden plate of meat and cheese in one hand and a leather cup of wine in the other. He'd taken them from pots and barrels everyone else was using, so he wasn't worried about poison.
Couples passed hand in hand, and so did men playfully chasing women who weren't trying to run very fast. From beyond the bushes came squeals, sighs, and grunts as other couples entertained themselves in the protecting darkness. It was warm enough to go naked outdoors, and the smoke from the fire was keeping away the insects.
Blade felt like chasing someone himself, but wasn't sure if it would be a good idea. Tressana didn't care about the virtue of the palace women any more than she did about her own, but she might resent a wandering eye in a man she'd brought to the palace for herself.
Blade drained the cup and turned back from the path to the wine barrels, half sunk in a pond to cool them. He wore heavy linen trousers and a sleeveless black leather vest, with a black silk mask that covered his whole face all the way back to the ears. He knew he looked more like a motorcycle gang member than a warrior, but this was party dress for the palace guards.
Another couple approached, the man bare-chested and the woman wearing only a jeweled loin guard and a lot of veiling that threatened to blow aside every time she moved. Blade stepped aside to let them pass, and nearly stumbled over a woman sitting under a bush, arms clasping her knees.
She was small, hardly more than five feet tall, and Blade wondered if she was even full grown. It was hard to tell, because she wore a silvery-green robe from ankle to neck and a black hood that hid her from the neck up. As she saw Blade standing over her, she looked up. Blade thought he heard her laugh.
«You're the traveling warrior, Blade of England, aren't you?»
Blade checked to see if his mask had slipped. This time the woman definitely laughed. «You'd have to bleach your skin and shrink a hand's breadth to really disguise yourself.» Either the hood muffled her voice or she had a cold.
She stood up. «Blade. Time for a woman?»
Blade smiled. He appreciated such a direct proposition. He also decided to accept. Caution be damned, and Queen Tressana too! Unless he was losing his virility, he'd be able to give the queen as much as she could hope for even if she summoned him tomorrow morning. Tonight he'd finally do something for himself, without waiting for someone to give him marching orders!
«You're a grown woman, not a girl?»
The body inside the robes stiffened and he heard a hiss of breath, like an indignant snake. «You're going to regret that remark, traveler Blade. I'm as much of a woman as you are a man, if not more.»
This, Blade reflected, was quite possible. Finding out for sure would be pleasant. He found he was already mildly aroused by the anticipation. The woman's sharp eyes noticed this. She stuck her fingers through the lacing of Blade's trousers, and for a moment he thought she was going to lead him away by his penis. Then she pulled her fingers out, hooked them over his belt, and led him off into the bushes.
She led him a long way, past couples so busy on the ground that they ignored everything else, to an isolated pavilion by a large pond. The pavilion had a grass floor surrounded by a low stone wall. Blade was surprised to see that the roof and its supporting pillars were of iron-another display of wealth by some long-dead king of Jaghd.
The moment they entered the pavilion, the woman let go of Blade and started undoing the brass brooch that held her robe together at the throat. The brooch thudded to the grass, and with a quick shrug of her shoulders she made the robe rustle softly down into a heap at her feet. Blade stared. In spite of the darkness he could see she was wearing white trousers with an open crotch that left her whole pubic area bare. The pale triangle of hair was framed by another triangle of embroidery.
She came toward him, without removing her hood. Blade wondered if her face and legs were scarred or deformed. Certainly there was nothing wrong with what he could see. Her arms and shoulders were tanned and rounded out with firm muscles. Her breasts were small but nearly perfect, and her nipples had already risen.
Blade was still pulling off his pants when the, woman reached him. She knelt before him, adjusted her hood to clear her mouth, then took his erection between her lips and went to work with determination and skill. Blade gasped and tried to reach down to her, but she gracefully ducked her head without letting go of him. He gave up trying to touch her and concentrated on fighting for control. Somehow he knew that he had to hold on as long as he could, and not just for his own pleasure in prolonging the delicious agony. He had the distinct feeling that he was being tested, and he was going to pass the test or collapse trying.
Before long the woman realized she wasn't going to break Blade with her mouth alone. She began running slim, skilled fingers up and down the insides of his thighs and into every other place she could reach. Blade's gasps turned to groans of agony, but he held on. The woman was beginning to fight for breath herself when Blade finally gave up the struggle. She didn't try to swallow the hot jetting, but wiped her mouth on her hood and squatted silently until Blade had spent himself completely.
As Blade finished, something went rrrrip beside him. He was instantly alert, in spite of the warm fog of contentment filling his mind and body, and he looked down. The right leg of the woman's snug white trousers was split from knee to crotch. She was pressing her thighs together, trying to conceal the suddenly exposed skin. Blade couldn't see what she was ashamed of. Her white skin looked smooth, clean, and warm. He wanted to touch it, and found his erection beginning to return at the thought.
Then the moon came out from behind a cloud, and silvery light flooded the pavilion. Blade got a good view of the woman's bare thigh. A dark line ran down it and across the knee-a line that looked remarkably like a scar.
Suddenly a chain of thoughts linked up in Blade's mind, like a string of firecrackers going off. The woman was small and blonde, with a scar on her right knee.