Again, Cheeky wished he could talk with the Blade about this. The Master was much wiser about asking questions, for it was his whole life. But the Master might not talk to Cheeky until Cheeky found the answer himself!

Cheeky was so angry he wanted to pull the feathers out of his head. He did not, because that would tell Moyla that he was angry, without her even reading his thoughts. Then she would tell the Mistress Wise One, and Cheeky knew the Wise One could spirit-speak to him whenever she wanted to even if he did not want to hear her.

That might be bad for the Master Blade.

So Cheeky decided he would do as well as he could with what Moyla told him without knowing she was telling him. That might be quite a lot, since most of the time she trusted him. Then, when he had learned everything he was going to learn, he would go to the Master Blade. The Master Blade was kind; he would understand why Cheeky had made his mistake and forgive him for it.

Then they would talk again as they had before. They might even talk about what had come into Cheeky's mind, so that his thoughts seemed clearer and faster. There were old tales that at one time all the Feather People had been the way Cheeky was now. But the tales were so old that no one had ever met anyone who knew one of these Feather People with strong thoughts. Cheeky himself had never believed the tales, until suddenly his thoughts were also strong.

Surely the Master Blade would know more about this. If he did not, some other one of the Master People might know. The Master People always thought strong thoughts. They also lived much longer than the Feather People. Blade might have been alive in the time when the Feather People's thoughts were strong!

Cheeky stopped himself before he got so excited that Moyla would hear and then tell the Mistress Wise One about Cheeky's strong thoughts. That would be bad for him and for the Master Blade.

Chapter 10

Blade awoke with a swelling uproar from outside the hut in his ears, his head comfortably pillowed between a young woman's breasts, and one arm thrown around an older woman's shoulders.

He sat up and listened. He heard the trumpeting calls of the lizard-horses, the roaring and howling of the Great Hunters, war cries, cheers, and harsh laughter. He also heard an ugly undertone of screams of fear and pain. Once he heard a dreadful sobbing wail. There was despair in that wail-more despair than Blade thought any human being should ever have to feel.

«I think we have a victory,» said the older woman.

«Victory?» said Blade. He wasn't entirely awake and alert yet. It had been a long but entirely pleasant night.

«Over the Uchendi. The warriors have returned with those to be cleansed,» said the younger woman. «They are rejoicing. Let us do the same.» She ran her hand down Blade's chest to his groin.

Gently he plucked her hand away. The noise outside was arousing his curiosity more than anything else. After a moment the young woman sighed. «Well, as long as the Wise One keeps you among us, it is not so bad. We will have other times together.»

Blade grinned. «I thank you. But in time the Uchendi must have their share of my attention, or I am no warrior. Now let me get out and see those I shall fight.»

Blade stepped out of the hut into a chilly gray morning and an uproar that was still getting louder. He headed for the nearest screams, rounded the corner of a hut, and saw his first Uchendi.

She was a girl who couldn't have been more than twelve, and she was being gang-raped on the stony ground by eight or ten Rutari men. Blood was running down her thighs, and one eye was already swollen shut. Somehow-she still had the strength to scream.

Blade backed away hastily, before someone saw him and invited him to join in. He kept retreating until he was out of sight. He couldn't get away from hearing the girl's screams, until they died away to feeble moans and then into silence. Blade hoped this meant the girl was dead.

Two of the warriors tramped past, spears over their shoulders and satisfied grins on their faces. One of them saw Blade. «You too late for the little one? We would not have left you out.»

Blade shook his head. He wanted to shake the warrior like a terrier shaking a rat. «A girl that age-for my people she is not lawful.»

«Don't your people fight wars?» said the other warrior. «If you do, how can you make the victory complete if you spare women and children?»

«We have few women,» said Blade, thinking fast. «If we slew the women of other tribes, the first time we lost a war would be the end of us. The enemy would take all of our women and the tribe would die away. Haven't the Rutari ever lost a battle to the Uchendi?»

The warriors seemed to find the idea funny. They were still laughing as they went off-no doubt in search of an eight-year old boy to bugger, Blade thought sourly.

He didn't see any eight-year-old boys among the Uchendi prisoners, but he did see a girl about six being thrown to the Great Hunters. Fortunately she was dead. With wounds like hers, she had to be dead.

He also saw a good many Uchendi of all ages and both sexes being treated as their captors pleased. Most of what pleased their captors ran in directions that Blade suspected would have made the Marquis de Sade himself run screaming into the streets. The twelve year old girl was far from the worst. By the time he'd seen enough, Blade was very glad he hadn't eaten any breakfast.

The only Uchendi prisoners spared horrible deaths were six warriors who'd been captured more or less unwounded. They were being saved for a formal cleansing by the Great Hunters, and were under the Wise One's protection. That didn't keep them from being forced to watch their fellow tribesmen die horribly.

One of the warriors went berserk when he saw a Great Hunter devouring his son. He broke away from his guards, killing one and disarming another. With a stolen spear he plunged into the pit and attacked the Great Hunter. Catching it by surprise, he was able to run the spear into its chest before its claws disemboweled him. He made no sound as he flew through the air like a doll and crashed down on the lip of the pit. Blade was close enough to see that the dead face was set in a triumphant smile. He himself felt like cheering.

It was small consolation to Blade to learn that the Rutari had taken many more prisoners than usual on this raid. They'd overrun a whole farming village before the alarm could be given, then defeated a party of warriors coming to the villagers rescue. After that, the Rutari retreated without having to fight again, so they'd won their victory very cheaply. They were feeling good, and the Uchendi were paying a horrible price.

Questions now plagued Blade. Should he stay with the Rutari and help the Wise One improve the tribe's telepathy? After seeing the brutality of the Rutari, he had no particular desire to help the Wise One give her people a decisive advantage in this feud. Then should he move on, maybe to the Uchendi or maybe clear out of reach of both warring tribes in this land of Latan?

Blade was in a quandary, but at the moment he had to worry more about the possibility of being called on at last to join the warriors in raiding the Uchendi and torturing the prisoners to death. If he didn't do both it would look suspicious, and he'd have to watch his back any time a warrior was within spear throwing distance. There were easier ways to spend a trip to Dimension X.

The Wise One might also pick some piece of military knowledge out of his mind as he was fighting. She herself was no warrior, but suppose she got an image of a bow and arrow, then described it to Teindo? He would know that it was a weapon that might give the Rutari a decisive advantage.