Then a Tribesman hurled himself out of the darkness, landing on top of the grenade. A moment later it exploded harmlessly-except to the man on top of it.
Half-deafened, Blade rose to his feet-as the Tribesman started to scream. Then he shot the man in the back of the head. There was no point in trying to cure such a wound, or even turn him over. Blade had seen what happens to a man who smothered a grenade with his own body. A quick death was all he could give to the man who'd saved Bekror, Sparra and himself, because he'd been about to leap on the grenade when the Tribesman did it.
Then there was silence, except for the crackle of the blazing bush and the distant moan of a dying man. Sparra and Terbo went off to investigate, and came back a couple of minutes later, looking grim.
«One of their sentries, with his back broken,» she said. «He admitted they were Chyatho's friends out to kill me and Bekror. Said, 'We'd have done it without that big bitch.'»
«Big bitch?» repeated Bekror. He looked startled, then hastily straightened his face.
«That's what he said. Then he died.»
«No loss,» said Bekror evenly.
«N-n-no,» said Sparra. She was obviously fighting off the shakes, frightened over the night's events, even more frightened of appearing a coward in the eves of the Tribesmen.
«They were not men the gods could love,» said Ikhnan. «The Laws of the Cities are not ours. But men who will kill because they are not allowed to defy a Law are evil anywhere.» He looked down at the dead Tribesman. «I only wish he had died against a worthier foe.»
«He died well, nonetheless,» said Bekror. He picked up two of the dead man's guns and handed them to Ikhnan. «For his grave.»
Ikhnan's eyes widened. «You know our custom, of putting the weapons of a slain warrior's enemies on his grave?»
«Of course,» said Bekror. «I have long been the enemy of the Tribes. I may be the enemy of the Tribes again. I have never been, and never will be, ignorant of their ways.» In the silence these words produced, he went on:
«Indeed, I would propose that we bury him here and now, with both peoples doing him honor. However, we are too close to my lands. Someone without respect for the dead might pollute his grave.»
«If we're that close to your lands, shall we finish our talking before we have more unwelcome visitors?» said Blade. «The best honor we can do for this warrior is not to let his death be wasted.»
No one disagreed, and the negotiations were finished quickly. A lifter would deliver Sparra and her squad with the weapons and explosives to an agreed-on rendezvous in five days. When Bekror got more explosives, he would deliver them along with the lifters themselves, when the raiders were ready to move out.
Then Bekror's party vanished, leaving the Tribesmen and Blade to pick up their dead and retreat. «A wise and mighty chief,» Ikhnan called Bekror. He called him other things, too, but Blade was too absorbed in his own thoughts to remember any of them.
What had happened in the fight with the would-be assassins' sentries? And who was the «big bitch»? Bekror knew, at least, or thought he knew. If he didn't, Blade was no judge of faces or voices!
Blade had a nasty feeling that there were going to be other players in this game he'd begun-players he hadn't asked to sit in, and who might reveal themselves only when it was too late to change the rules.
Chapter 21
«You're absolutely sure it was Voros himself?» said Geyrna. «You only saw him once, in poor light, and in a hurry.»
«I'm sure, Aunt,» said Baliza. «Between what I saw and what I wormed out of Bekror, it couldn't be anybody else. Unless you think it's my father the Sky Master Blade come back again? She laughed and stretched catlike. It felt fine to be safe at home in Kaldak again, able to relax and soak up the sun and good food. It wasn't going to last very long, though.
«You almost said that as if it was a joke,» said Geyrna. Baliza felt her face going hot, but her aunt didn't seem to notice as she went on. «Certainly Voros seems to be almost as good a fighter and leader as the Sky Master. He also seems to have the same gift for talking sense and making you realize it. I can't imagine he would have impressed that stubborn old cynic Bekror otherwise. By the way, how was he?»
Baliza couldn't quite suppress a pleasurable wriggle at the memories. Her aunt laughed. «Still good, eh? I had him a few years ago myself, and I couldn't complain either.»
A servant came in with beer and snacks, interrupting the flow of bawdy chatter. When the two women were alone again, Geyrna got down to business.
«So now we know Bekror and the Tribesmen intend to launch a major strike at Detcharn's rockets. If it's true Voros is among them, we can be sure the training of the Tribesmen is in good hands.
«But that may not be enough. With what he'll have, Voros can only take thirty, maybe forty men, to near the base. They'll have to walk the rest of the way. Suppose he had two or three real Doimari lifters, such as the ones we've captured in past wars? Suppose he could take sixty or eighty men in those lifters all the way to the rocket base before anyone there knew anything was wrong? And suppose, also, men were sent from the City Regiment to help Voros?»
Baliza's eyes widened. «Of course. I should have thought of that myself. Aunt, you wouldn't be such a bad soldier yourself.»
«Thank you. But I had good teachers, like Sidas. I listened to everyone who ever talked about war while I was around.»
«You also heard some wise words from Bairam,» said Kareena.
Geyrna frowned. «Not his wisdom, I think. More likely what he heard from the Sky Master and passed on.»
«You do him an injustice, I think.»
«You would say that even if you didn't think it, just to annoy me.»
«If more people had said it to you twenty years ago, Bairam might not have started drinking.»
«He started drinking because I would not stay fifteen years old forever. That was what he loved, not the woman who knew she could do better at ruling Kaldak than he.»
Baliza sighed. It was an old and bitter quarrel between them, and right now even more pointless than usual. «Forgive me, Aunt. But you know what I have thought on this for so many years. I keep hoping that one day you'll listen.»
«Perhaps I will, one day. Certainly not before we've stamped Detcharn and his plans into the ground.» She sipped her beer. «But let's be serious again. To get those Doimari lifters and additional men, we're going to have to go to Sidas.»
«So?»
«Sidas is a hard-headed son of a munfan, as you should know. Sidas is also very shrewd, and he's going to notice you're full of thoughts you won't confess, about this mysterious Voros. He may ask questions. When he does, you'd better be ready to tell him the truth, or as much of it as you know yourself.»
«I'll do my best.»
«Your best had better be pretty damned good, Baliza!»
«You next, Shangbari,» the woman Sparra said.
Shangbari lay down, his fire rifle pointing out in front of him. It was strange, obeying a woman so easily. But it no longer seemed un-Lawful. Voros followed the Laws of the Cities, which said that women might be warriors and hunters; Shangbari had sworn to follow Voros.
Some of the warriors of the Red Cats had still been stupid enough to think that Sparra was a woman for bedding, in spite of their oaths. Some of those would not be thinking of women for many days-or at least thinking would be all they could do. Sparra had done the work on them herself, too. She'd said that Voros taught her those ways of fighting.
Was there anything about war Voros did not know or could not teach? Shangbari doubted it. Certainly he did not wonder that the Red Cats were beginning to call the new leader «Voros the Wise.»