Then Blade and Nayung attacked. For the moment they did not worry about guarding their backs, though an entire division of Rulami soldiers stood behind them. Their entire world was the two men in magnificent robes, standing like carved images as the battle swirled around them.
Blade and Nayung thrust together at the first soldier to charge them, smashing his sword out of his hand. Brave or mad, he charged Blade barehanded, got under his spear, grappled with him. But Blade did not have to drop his spear. Nayung's spear butt flashed in an arc and smashed the back of the soldier's neck. Blade shoved the sagging body away from him savagely and moved on. He had to block a downcut so strong that it took both hands to hold the spear. Then he slammed the spear shaft forward across the swordsman's throat, splintering the larynx. He felt a man behind him, aimed a backward thrust by sound alone, and was rewarded by a thud and a gasp.
But the Rulami were breaking out of their division's ranks and moving up behind Blade. Nayung did not wait to be asked. He spun about and leaped across until he was behind Blade, facing the main body of the Rulami, guarding Blade's back as the Englishman plunged on into the ranks of the bodyguards. The two men he was after still did not move. Were they paralyzed with fear? Or did they still hope their guards could beat off both Blade and the Zungans?
Blade didn't know and he didn't care. As he broke through the bodyguards at last, he saw the High Priest turn pale. The man turned to flee, then raised his hands to heaven when he realized there was no place to flee to. But Kleptor was made of braver material, for all his grossness. He drew a sword five feet long and came at Blade, swinging it in both hands.
The first swing of that sword smashed into Blade's spear and all but smashed it out of his hands. Blade wanted to jump back, for here was a weapon against which he might not be able to defend himself. But there was no room. He and Kleptor were like the proverbial two scorpions in a bottle. So he moved forward as fast as he could, driving in under the sword, risking everything on his speed. If that speed could take him in under the sword before it came down…
His spear rose high, held crossways in both hands. The sword came down, again jarring Blade to the marrow of his bones as it struck the spear shaft. But he held onto the spear, and slammed the tough wood of the shaft down across Kleptor's forehead. The king wore no helmet. The sledgehammer blow made him reel. The sword rose again, but it was wavering now. Blade swung up his spear butt, knocking the sword away, then thrust down. There was a thick layer of fat over Kleptor's ribs, but the downstabbing spear point got through the fat, between the ribs, and into the king's heart. The wide-set eyes rolled up in the fleshy face, the pudgy hands came up and clawed at the beard. The mouth opened and blood spurted out all over the beard, over Blade. Then the king fell.
Blade turned to the High Priest, spear flashing up again. The High Priest still stood. But as Blade's sweat-dimmed eyes focused on the man, he saw that the High Priest still stood only because he was supported by half a dozen Zungan spears thrust into his body. A seventh Zungan warrior strode over to the High Priest's banner and shoved it over. It fell down with a silent-thud, lost in the roar of the battle all around. Blade did the same with Kleptor's banner.
Whether that alone was what brought victory, no one could tell later. In the exact moment that the banners fell, the Great D'bor commanding the Zungan right ordered his whole division forward at the charge. The commander of the remaining two thousand shock troops followed. Blade could not see the seven thousand Zungans hurling themselves at the Kandan army, but he heard it when they struck. And he saw the results. The entire Kandan army lurched backward, nearly trampling Blade's force to death by sheer numbers. But the Kandans' morale had gone, and they were only interested in reaching safety by the shortest route.
By chance and the skill of the Zungan charge, that route lay through the ranks of the Rulami. The panic-stricken Kandans smashed into the ranks of their allies, breaking them apart, dying on Rulami swords, communicating their own panic to the Rulami. As word of Kleptor's fall spread through the Rulami, their second division began to waver and leak stragglers. Then it broke, and before Blade's eyes the entire center of the Rulami army dissolved into a mob of scattering fugitives.
Blade neither joined in the pursuit that Nayung led, nor held his men back from following Nayung. He watched the warriors he had led to victory go tearing out across the plain after the fleeing Rulami, and then turned toward the Zungan center. He had seen and heard nothing of what might be happening there, since he had led his warriors out for their charge. He badly wanted to fund out what had happened to Afuno.
He had to wait a while longer, because the stouthearted soldiers of the Rulami first division did not break and flee. The Great D'bor of the Zungan left had to finally lead his division around and encircle the Rulami. Even then the sound of clashing weapons and dying men rose into the air for the better part of half an hour. When it faded, another third of the army of Rulam lay dead. The Zungans took no prisoners.
Blade was finally able to rise and walk toward where he had last seen Afuno. If he had wanted to, he could have walked every foot of the way without touching the ground. The bodies lay that densely, both Rulami and Zungan.
He was approaching a circle of Zungan warriors standing in the middle of a particularly thick patch of bodies when two things happened. A blinding pain stabbed through his head, making everything go black in front of him for a second. The computer had lunged like a spear at him across the dimensions. It had missed this time, but the next time would come soon. He would be on his way back to Home Dimension soon. But there was still more that he had to do here, damn it!
He was still shaking his head, trying to clear the spots from in front of his eyes, when the Great D'bor who had commanded the center division came up to him. The Zungan's left arm dangled limply, slashed open for much of its length and roughly bound up in blood-caked cloth. But his voice was steady and urgent as he spoke.
«Blade, King Afuno has been wounded.»
Blade swallowed. «Badly?»
The Great D'bor nodded. «The Sky Father has laid his hand on him and will take him soon. He wants to speak with you before then.»
Blade nodded and followed the Zungan. The circle of warriors opened to make a path for them, then closed behind them as Blade knelt beside the king. The Sky Father's hand was indeed on Afuno. His mahogany face had paled, and the piercing black eyes had softened. Looking down at him, Blade could see why. Any one of the gashes that crisscrossed Afuno's belly and thighs would have been sufficient to kill. That he was still alive now was a miracle. And that he was able to speak was a still greater one.
But he did speak.
«Blade, will you obey me?»
«You know that I will, Your Majesty.»
«Good. Soon-soon you will not have to obey anyone at all-anyone except Aumara,» The king managed a faint smile. «Even kings must bow to their wives at times. But you-will be king in Zunga.» He beckoned the Great D'bor to him. «Swear by the Sky Father.»
«I swear.»