«I can understand why they are not welcome in Saram,» said Blade. The duke laughed shortly, and even his son managed a thin smile. «I am glad you decided that I was not one of them. Matters might have become difficult, for as you have seen, I would not have been easy to kill.»
The duke laughed again. «No, indeed. There would have been a battle worthy of quite a number of poems, if by some chance anyone had lived to write them. In fact, we had some hopes that you might not be a Steppeman when you first appeared. Not one in a thousand of them is as large as you are. Nine out of ten have their legs bowed like the crescent of the moon from a life spent on horseback, while yours are as straight as pine trees and as tough as seasoned wood.
«Yet we could not be sure, so I ordered the fight. If you perished, it would be a quicker death than you would receive at other hands than ours. If you lived, you would be no Steppeman, and your fate a matter for His Magnificence.»
«You are certainly no Steppeman,» said Tulu briskly. «They are mighty warriors on horseback, but far less dangerous on foot. They have no such arts of fighting with their hands and feet as you have. Nor do they ever show mercy to a foe. I saw how you were fighting, Blade. Am I not right in saying that you were trying to spare both Tzimon and Dzhai?»
Blade grinned. «I was. They had done me no harm. If I could keep them from doing me any without killing them, why shouldn't I do it?»
The duke shook his head, his face blank. He seemed to find either Blade's words or Blade's philosophy totally incomprehensible. Blade wasn't surprised. If the Emperor Kul-Nam's bloodthirstiness was normal for the Empire, mercy would be something seldom mentioned and even more seldom shown. The idea of someone casually refusing to kill a couple of men who were doing their best to kill him would be hard to grasp.
To help the duke over his embarrassment, Blade went on swiftly. «I wish I had been able to do better. I'm afraid that Dzhai has lost the use of one arm for life. He and Tzimon were too good. I had to move too fast or they would certainly have killed me. I hope someone will be able to take care of Dzhai now that he can no longer fight.»
Tulu stared at Blade. «You wish-help for Dzhai?» He shook his head, as bewildered as his father.
«Of course,» said Blade. «It was not his fault that he was defeated. I am a stranger with no money and no certainty that I will be able to live here in Saram. Otherwise I myself would offer him a place in my service. The world is full of jobs that a strong man who works hard can do with only one hand.»
«That-that is the way in England?» said Tulu. He was not quite able to keep his voice steady.
Blade was tempted to say «Of course»-as unpleasantly as possible. It was fairly obvious that in the Empire slaves no longer able to do their jobs were killed, discarded like worn-out furniture or a broken sword.
Instead, he said only, «Yes, that is the way of the men of England.»
«It is-it is not our way, although one hears of it in the Five Sea Kingdoms,» the duke said quietly. «But I will thank you for it. It is good to know that Tzimon will fight again in my service. As for Dzhai-«He hesitated.
Blade broke in. «As for Dzhai, I have said that I cannot myself be sure of doing anything for him. I am a stranger, and you say the laws of Saram are harsh toward strangers. But is it permitted to do one favor for a stranger?»
The duke nodded.
«Then I ask you to find Dzhai a post where he can continue to serve you as loyally as he has served you until now. That is the greatest favor you could grant me.»
«It is also the strangest favor I have ever heard anyone ask,» said the duke, his face slowly brightening into a smile. «It does you much honor, though. In any case, it will not be the only favor we grant you. Our laws are harsh, true, but not that harsh. You will sleep apart from us, in a tent of your own, and will be guarded day and night. Otherwise you shall eat as we eat, drink as we drink, and receive all else that the laws and customs of hospitality demand of us for a guest who has proven himself honorable.» The duke and Tulu bowed.
The tent they erected for Blade was small and low. Its leather was pierced with holes through which the wind whistled angrily. The furs they spread on the ground for him were dirty and musty smelling. Blade insisted on holding them briefly in the smoke of the campfire to drive out the odors and any vermin that might be infesting them. Then he threw the furs down on the floor of the tent and lay down on top of them. Through the holes in the tent he could see his two guards taking up their positions. Blade rolled himself up snugly in the threadbare blankets.
He had not quite drifted off to sleep when he became aware that someone was trying to get into the tent. The front flap was jerking steadily, as if someone were fumbling at the cords. Blade lay still and waited. Whoever or whatever it was, the guards were paying no attention. A quick look through the holes on either side showed their booted feet and trousered legs exactly where they'd been before. Blade doubted if Duke Boros and his son were planning open, crude treachery, but he was quite sure he would have been happier with a weapon more formidable than his knife.
The jerking suddenly stopped. The tent flap swung open and a small figure appeared silhouetted against the glow of the fire. Blade shifted his grip on the knife for a throw but something made him hesitate. Then the figure moved forward, to take on a definite shape and recognizable features. It was the girl who'd danced and served the wine.
She went down on her hands and knees and crawled closer. Her small, neatly molded face seemed to be lit up by a joyful, almost ecstatic grin that bared two rows of perfect teeth. Even her eyes seemed to be part of the grin.
She still wore the blue robe belted around her, but the linen had grown heavy in the night dampness. It clung to her slender body, molding her graceful curves, and flowed down off her, rippling as she moved toward Blade.
As the girl's head came level with his feet, Blade sat up, keeping his hand on the knife but keeping it well out of sight under the blanket. The girl jumped, but seemingly more in delight than in fear. Her grin widened.
«Ah, Prince Blade,» she said. Her voice was low, with a slight sing-song intonation but nonetheless extremely clear. «Ah, Prince Blade,» she repeated. «You wake and welcome me.»
«I wake,» Blade corrected her. «As for welcoming you-we shall see.» He decided to be blunt. «Are you part of the duke's hospitality to a stranger?»
«Oh yes, it is so that I am,» said the girl, controlling a giggle. Then her smile faded and she spoke very softly and earnestly, with none of the sing-song quality in her voice now.
«Yes, I was to come to your tent. The duke thinks I come only because I know it is my duty as a slave girl. He does not know that I also come out of gratitude.» She hesitated. «He must not know it, either. I would be punished terribly for it if he knew.»
«Then why do you tell me?» said Blade. «Do I need to know it?»
«Yes,» said the girl bluntly. «You are a stranger in the Empire. Most strangers who come to Saram die, some very soon, some later. Some of those who die, die because they have no friends. It is against the laws of the Empire to be a friend to a stranger. But you have two friends now. You must know this. It may save you.»
That depended very much on who the friends were, even if the girl was telling the truth. «Who are these friends?»
«I am one. I am Haleen, a slave girl in the house of the Dukes of Kudai as my mother and my mother's mother were before me. I have come to you because I am your friend, and because I want to tell you that I am.»