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slain by one in Lord
Tsekuin's service risked starting a feud within the ranks of the lord's own
dabuni. This no wise man wished. It would give the Hongshu a great
opportunity. But when I heard that a stranger who appeared warlike had come
among us and already incurred the enmity of Jawai, I saw a clear path ahead."
Blade nodded. "Yes." His voice was deliberately cool. "If I slew Jawai or
disgraced him so that he had to kill himself "
"As he did."
"I thought so. If that happened, you would be rid of Jawai. And if he slew me,
at least there would be none of my family or sworn friends determined to
avenge me and disrupt the peace of Lord Tsekuin's household. A wise plan, if
you have such great need of peace."
Yezjaro let the implied question pass him by. Instead he said, "You see
clearly, Blade."
"When it is a question of my life or my honor, Yezjaro, I can see very far and
listen very well. I ask you not to forget that."
Yezjaro nodded slowly. "I think I will take your advice, Blade." The party
moved on down the trail.
It was a journey of three full days and part of a fourth to Lord Tsekuin's
castle. It was a slow and tedious journey, most of it over trails that were
always winding and sometimes steep and narrow. But the small, shaggy horses of
Gaikon seemed to be nearly as tough and sure-footed as mountain goats. There
were no accidents, not even when they had to lead the horses one at a time
across a rope-and-plank bridge swaying dizzily a hundred feet above a
mist-filled gorge.
During those days Blade learned a great deal about life in Gaikon. Much of the
knowledge was essential, however many strange words it might contain. Some of
it was unnecessary; Blade suspected
Yezjaro of showing off his learning and boasting of his native land's virtues.
That was a harmless and nearly universal game. Blade didn't say a word against
it, not even when Yezjaro spent three hours reciting the epic poem of the
Seven Dabuni.
But some of what Blade needed to know he had to pry out of Yezjaro like a
pearl out of an oyster.
There were a good many subjects about which the instructor remained as mute as
a temple image.
In thelandofGaikon , one man reigned the Emperor. Another man ruled the
Hongshu or Most
Exalted Warlord. The country was divided into the Emperor's precincts, a
number of cities directly under the Hongshu or the chancellors of his
household, and the fiefs of a large number of greater or lesser warlords like
Lord Tsekuin.
The members of the ruling families and households were something of a class
apart, as were the warlords themselves. The rest of the people of Gaikon were
divided into three broad categories: the warriors or dabuni, the merchants
(who included the artisans), and the peasants. Blade was hardly surprised to
learn that the dabuni considered themselves the source of all honor, virtue,
and prowess in
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Gaikon, and that they despised and even abused the merchants and peasants.
They were indeed like too many other warrior castes that Blade had met in too
many other dimensions. But while he was in Gaikon, it was live by their rules
or face a good chance of not living at all. And that meant learning as much as
possible, whether Yezjaro told him willingly or not.
There was the time Yezjaro mentioned that the Most Exalted Warlord had the
additional title of
"Strong Younger Brother."
"How is that?" said Blade.
"In the tales of Kunkoi, the Sun Goddess, it is said she bore two sons, a year
apart. The elder was terrible in his wisdom and magical powers, so he became
the ancestor of our Emperors. The younger was far less wise, but he was the
mightiest warrior since the beginning of time. He protected his brother's rule
faithfully, and it is from him that the Hongshus claim their descent."
"I see," said Blade. Then he threw out a deliberately vague question. "This
means, I take it, that the
Hongshu is patron and master to the warlords of Gaikon?"
"Sometimes," said Yezjaro shortly.
"How can it be otherwise?" said Blade, trying to sound naive.
"It depends very much on the warlord," said Yezjaro. "Also on how honorable
the Hongshu is. If a warlord has something the Hongshu covets "
"I see," said Blade again. After a moment's remembering what he had heard at
other times from the instructor, he thought he did see. "The Lord Tsekuin goes
in some fear of inspiring the intervention of the
Hongshu, doesn't he?"
"Perhaps." To Blade's trained ear, that short one-word reply was almost a
shouted "Yes." He was silent for a moment, to give Yezjaro the impression that
he had given up his questioning. Then:
"Does the Hongshu's interest in the affairs of Lord Tsekuin have something
to do with mines?
Possibly those mines that the late Honorable Captain Jawai was not fit to
guard?"
Yezjaro said nothing. He didn't need to. The startled look on his face and
then the quick masking of his expression told Blade more than enough.
There was another time when Blade and Yezjaro were sipping hot saya wine in
the back room of a small tavern. They were discussing keeping the peace in the
frequently turbulent and unruly families of the warlords.
"Often enough, it is decided to train the younger sons as scholars or send
them into the service of
Kunkoi," said the instructor. "Our own Lord Tsekuin was destined for a
scholar's career. But Kunkoi's will was otherwise."
"How so?"
"The eldest son and heir died of a fever. So our Honorable Lord was called to
put away his scrolls and brushes and his Hu board and take up steel."
"How well did he make the change?" asked Blade. He held out the flask of hot
saya. The instructor practically snatched it from Blade's hand, poured his cup
full, and drained it at a gulp. Then he leaned back, shaking his head slowly.
"Not as well as " He broke off and shot a hard look at Blade. "He is young
yet, and has much to learn. He will learn it, I am sure."
Blade sensed that Yezjaro's suspicions might be aroused if he pushed any
farther. But he also sensed he might be on the brink of learning something
important.
So he gambled. "You're a strange one to call a warlord 'young,'" said Blade.
He managed to put
laughter into his voice. "Unless he's hardly more than a child. You can't be
much more than "
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"I'm ten times older than Lord Tsekuin is in what counts now!" snarled
Yezjaro. "He's thirty, I know.
But he didn't pick up a sword at six, or kill his first man at twelve, or
fight in a pitched battle at fourteen and live through it! And he didn't put
on the blue robe at sixteen! I did. So if I want to think he's young, Kunkoi
knows I've got the right to!" He poured himself more saya, and gulped it down.
Blade dropped the topic. He didn't want to push things any farther. Certainly
not to the point of provoking the instructor to a fight. Blade suspected that
was a fight he would lose. Even if by some chance he won, he would lose a
strong and useful guide and ally.
In spite of occasional bits of luck like this, Blade did not learn as much as
he wanted to on the journey. He certainly learned enough to know that he would
have to be careful. His eyes would have to be looking in all directions at
once, his hand ready to snatch up a spear, and his feet as ready as a cat's to
jump.
But that he would have known without exchanging a single word with anyone. It
was the only way of staying alive in Dimension X.
Chapter 8
«^»
Late in the morning of the fourth day they rode out of the forest into the
fields around thecastleofLord
Tsekuin . [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]