The Golden Steed

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It took Blade less than five days to cover that distance to Vilesh, for he literally did not spare the horses. He kept the first one going at a gallop until it dropped, well into the afternoon of the first day. He was within a mile of a village, small and poor, but it had a few horses. After Blade slipped into the village stables that night, the village had one less horse.

That horse still had a good deal of life in it at sunset the next day. Then good luck brought Blade up with one of the Royal Scouts. The man was carrying messages from one of the patrols keeping watch on Lanyri. Blade was careful to pick up those messages, along with the scout's clothes, badges, weapons, gear, and horse. The scout himself he deposited, stunned, bound, and gagged, within easy reach of the next village. Here the people had not fled. Apparently they were determined to go on tending their flocks and fields through Lanyri invasion, natural disaster, or the end of the world itself. They would find the scout when they came out the next morning. But they would learn little from him. Blade had toppled him out of his saddle with a well-aimed stone from an improvised sling.

Blade was determined to keep his identity concealed from everybody whose loyalty to the king he didn't trust. At least until the moment he had his sword at Klerus' throat, he added to himself. And there was nobody outside the palace itself he trusted.

Blade succeeded, thanks to the scout's badges and gear. A Royal Scout was a man privileged to ask and receive help in any form he might need from any subject of the King of Pendar. To refuse a scout's request for aid or delay him in his passage, even through negligence, was treason.

So stable doors opened and the best horses were led forth and saddled and bridled for Blade. Saddlebags were packed full of the choicest food the villages could offer. Leather bottles of wine and water were pressed on him. In some of the villages he might have received baths and even girls if he had been willing to stop. But he was not. All the girls saw of him was his back as he vanished down the road to Vilesh in a cloud of dust.

He reached Vilesh on the evening of the fifth day. By that time he was confident that no one, not even Princess Harima or Guroth, could recognize him as the Pendarnoth. A five-day growth of beard covered his face, and a five-day accumulation of yellow and gray dust covered the beard. His clothes were so stiff with sweat they could stand up by themselves. He suspected he could be smelled a hundred feet upwind. Over one eye he wore an improvised patch made from Raza's cloak, and on his left arm was an equally improvised bandage made from the same material. There was even a little dried blood on «the bandage, smeared on it from a carefully cut thumb. The picture he presented was not merely enough to confuse, it was enough to frighten. Children pointed and ran screaming into the houses along the high road as he thundered toward the towers of Vilesh.

For all his travel-worn appearance, Blade was not tired. He knew he should have been nearly ready to fall out of the saddle, but somehow he was not. Perhaps it was sheer nervous energy. Perhaps it was also the knowledge that within a few hours he would finally be at grips with the High Councilor. He had spent too many weeks using his wits and his tongue as his main weapons. Now the time was coming to use his sword, and use it on the best target in this whole Dimension. Ornilan at least was a soldier and a good one as far as Blade could tell. But Klerus-there was nothing at all to be said for him.

The sentries at the main gate of the city let him through after a single look at his badge. That was welcome for the moment, but Blade knew he would have to speak to Nefus about the Royal Scouts. False badges could easily be made and distributed, and assassins and saboteurs bearing them admitted to Vilesh. The Pendari would have enough difficulty defending their city from the enemies outside without having to cope with others inside.

At the palace gate, however, the guards looked Blade over a bit more carefully. He recognized two of the eight men on watch as members of the Pendarnoth's Guard. That was encouraging. It meant that Klerus had not yet purged all the «unreliable» men from the palace guards. But Blade could not appeal to the guardsmen's loyalties without revealing his identity. He had to sit quietly in the saddle while his badges and message bag and sword were inspected with everything but a magnifying glass.

He also had to fight back the desire to ask questions about «the fate of the Pendarnoth.» He could not be sure whether or not his capture had been kept a secret, but he suspected it had been. Certainly there had been no signs of mourning in the city or the villages around it.

Finally the guards appeared satisfied with his credentials and handed everything back to him. One of them looked him over from head to foot as they did so, a searching look that made it hard for Blade to sit still in his saddle.

«Have you heard anything of the Pendarnoth?»

Blade came out with his answer smoothly and calmly. «Not a word. Is there some great news of our Father?»

«None,» said the guard. «And that is what is bothering many among us. He rode out to keep watch upon the Lanyri all but a month ago, and not one word of him have we heard since. There are tales that he is slain, captured, or even proved a traitor.»

Blade managed to shrug, although, he felt a chill inside him at the last words. «I have been too busy riding among the patrols of soldiers to listen to tales, I fear. So I could say nothing worth hearing on this.» The guard nodded and shouted up to the gatekeeper to open the gates. They rumbled apart, and Blade rode on into the forecourt of the palace.

By the time he had turned his horse over to the stable-hands and made his way out of the stables, it was nearly dark. So much the better. Here in the palace were both his best friends and his worst enemies, both of whom knew his face well. And he still didn't want to be recognized until he was safely surrounded by a dozen or so loyal men. Even that might not be enough if Klerus really called out all his hired killers and ordered them to the attack, but it was better than wandering about alone.

His grimy and battered appearance drew a good deal of attention as he made his way through the palace corridors. But it drew no challenges. The palace was obviously on a war footing now, all peacetime pursuits and ceremonial dropped for the duration. There were archers and scouts and soldiers of the various guards wandering about in such numbers that one more travel-worn scout was no more than another tree in a forest.

Blade made straight for the Pendarnoth's suite, although he could not be sure that Guroth and the men of his patrol would still be there. Klerus might not have launched a general purge of the Pendarnoth's guard yet. But there was no way to be sure he had not indulged in a few pin-pricks, such as routing Guroth out of his quarters. Blade hoped he would not have to conceal his identity through a prolonged search of the whole palace for the High Captain. Damn! He had been half-hoping that the intrigues would end and the fighting start the moment he entered the palace gates.

He approached the door of his suite as cautiously as he could without seeming to be sneaking up on it. He noticed that the masons had abandoned their work in the corridor. Dismantled scaffolding, tools, and loose bricks lay about helter-skelter. All of them were covered with a thick layer of dust. But the two soldiers standing outside the door were from Guroth's patrol. They no longer wore the gold-decorated equipment and embroidered clothing of palace troops. Now they wore full field gear, complete with strung bows, full quivers, well-worn riding boots, and even canteens.

Blade strode up to them with his scout's, badge displayed and his message bag slung over his shoulder. He raised one hand in greeting but kept the other hovering near the hilt of his sword.

«Hail, soldiers.»

«Hail, scout. What do you bring?»

«I bring a message for the eyes of High Captain Guroth of the Pendarnoth's Guard. Is he within?»

One of the soldiers bent down, put his mouth to the hole in the door, and shouted, «Captain Guroth! A scout with a message for you.» A moment's listening for the answer, then the door opened and a voice called from within, «Enter.»

The two guards kept their eyes on Blade and their hands near their sword hilts until the door closed behind him. And four more soldiers stood behind Guroth as the captain came up to Blade.

«Welcome, my friend. What message do you have for me?»

Blade reached up and pulled off the eye patch and the head bandage. «My message is: I have come back.»