The blonde screamed in horror.
Grendel turned to regard her, his long dark tongue moving about, licking the blood about his fangs.
She lay down on the cement platform, covering her head with her hands, trembling.
Grendel then went to one of the fallen weapons, picked it up, returned to his kill, and there lifted the weapon, saluting his foe.
"He has accepted him as a worthy enemy,” said Peisistratus.
There was much silence in the stands, and then several of the Kurii smote their thighs, acknowledging this gesture of respect to one of their species, albeit from one hitherto deemed not Kur, but no more than a malformed thing, a misbred brute, an abomination, a monster.
There was then a roll of drums, and all eyes turned to the seventh challenger, who now rose from his crouching position, to a height of some ten feet.
"He is massive,” said Cabot.
"He is the champion, Magnus, Rufus Magnus,” said Peisistratus.
"He is concerned with the blood of the pet?” inquired Cabot.
"No,” said Peisistratus. “He has been hired."
"He has no personal interest in the matter?"
"None,” said Peisistratus, “unlike the other challengers. His only interest here is to kill Grendel and collect his fee, after which the pet may be dealt with as others please."
"He is a champion?"
"A high champion,” said Peisistratus. “See the two rings on his left wrist?"
"Yes."
"They are of gold,” said Peisistratus.
"Look,” said Cabot. “He puts aside the great bar."
"Yes,” said Peisistratus.
"He will face Grendel unarmed?"
"No,” said Peisistratus.
A praetor now approached the seventh challenger, and placed in his huge paws a gigantic ax, some ten feet in length, and double-bladed at each end, an ax which, in the grip of one such as he, one of such strength, might have decapitated a larl, and perhaps even, with three or four blows, Gor's mightiest constrictor, the giant hith.
"Is this honorable?” asked Cabot.
"Some higher authority has ruled on this, apparently,” said Peisistratus, grimly.
"Agamemnon?"
"Doubtless,” said Peisistratus.
The champion, Rufus Magnus, shifted the great ax about, easily, from paw to paw, testing its balance, and then, satisfied, he looked across the sand, to where Grendel stood, waiting.
The blonde now lay collapsed upon the platform, a tiny, pathetic, trembling figure, white against the gray of the cement. Cabot was not sure she could move, even had she wished to do so. He grasped the bars.
"You can do nothing,” said Peisistratus.
"It is getting dark,” said Cabot, suddenly.
"The mirrors!” said Peisistratus. “They are turning!"
The light which before had streamed into the arena was now lessening, as though night were falling, gradually, but at an unnatural pace.
"He must attack, he must run, there is little time!” exclaimed Peisistratus.
"I think there is no time,” said Cabot.
"The shutters are closing!” said Peisistratus.
"I cannot see!” said Cabot.
"Nor I!” said Peisistratus.
"The shutters have closed?” asked Cabot.
"I do not know,” said Peisistratus.
"If there is light I cannot detect it,” said Cabot.
"Nor I,” said Peisistratus.
There were anticipatory noises from the crowd.
"They can see!” cried Cabot.
"The champion is advancing upon him!” said Peisistratus. “I am sure of it!"
"Dishonor!” cried Cabot.
"True,” said Peisistratus, angrily. “There is no honor in this."
There was a roaring, as though of a frightened animal below in the arena.
"Turn up your translator!” cried Cabot.
Peisistratus fumbled in the darkness.
"More! Higher!” said Cabot. “Direct it toward the sand!"
"Light! Light!” came from the translator. “I cannot see! Light! I cannot see!"
"It is Grendel,” said Peisistratus. “He is terrified! He is lost! He cannot see!"
"Excellent!” cried Cabot.
"What?” cried Peisistratus.
"We see him as Kur,” cried Cabot, “but they see him as human, as human!"
"They think he is blinded, helpless, forlorn in darkness?"
"Precisely,” said Cabot, speaking in what for him was utter darkness.
"But he cries out in terror!” said Peisistratus.
"Does he?” said Cabot.
"Ah!” breathed Peisistratus, softly.
"And, too, it seemed,” said Cabot, “he was slowed, muchly injured."
"Ai!” cried Peisistratus.
"Our large, fierce friends, I fear, have miscalculated,” said Cabot.
Shutters must then have been reopened, and mirrors turned again, to gradually illuminate the sand.
"I owe you a dozen strings of coins,” said Peisistratus.
Below, howling, his left arm lifted, two golden rings now on his left wrist, stood Grendel.
One of his clawed feet was on the chest of his antagonist, and the great, blunt bar he had had as weapon was thrust some four feet into the sand, first having pierced the massive neck of the antagonist, then pinning him to the sand by the ruptured throat, the body of the antagonist jerking, splashing sand about, hands and feet, and then scratching futilely at the thick metal bar.
"He could see!” said Peisistratus.
"Yes,” said Cabot.
Grendel put back his head and howled in victory, a Kur's cry of triumph.
In the stands, after a silence, first one, and then another, and then thousands, smote their thighs in approbation.
"He has taken the two golden rings from the wrist of Rufus Magnus,” said Peisistratus.
"They are his now,” said Cabot.
"In the falling of darkness I see the hand of Agamemnon,” said Peisistratus.
"The authority would have been his, indeed,” said Cabot. “Surely it could not have taken place without his permission, or command, but what could be his interest in the matter, the pet, vengeance for a hunt gone wrong?"
"It is my speculation,” said Peisistratus, “it has more to do with Grendel."
"How could that be?” inquired Cabot.
"The experiment, the outcome of which was Grendel,” said Peisistratus, “turned out badly, Grendel failing to be such as to be accepted by humans as a leader. Such failures do not reflect well on the astuteness or stratagems of a Face of the Nameless One, and their lingering, failed residues are best discarded."
"I see,” said Cabot.
"And there is unrest within the world,” said Peisistratus.
"I have gathered that,” said Cabot.
"In the cylinders treason lurks,” said Peisistratus. “In the palace, accordingly, dark imperatives obtain."
"The winds of power sometimes blow waywardly,” said Cabot.
"One who has grasped power is not easily persuaded to relinquish it,” said Peisistratus.
"It is so, too, with humans,” said Cabot.
"And there is another experiment, the outcome of which is not yet determined,” said Peisistratus.
"What is that?” asked Cabot.
"That of enlisting a human leader, one men will trust, a warrior, a seeming champion, a seeming hero, one whom men, properly motivated, will unquestioningly, eagerly follow, one who will lead armies against the Sardar."
"I see,” said Cabot.
"Agamemnon grows impatient for your answer,” said Peisistratus.
"He will have it soon,” said Cabot.
Grendel had now removed the great bar from the sand, and from his antagonist, and cast it aside, into the sand.