She snatched at his hand. «Come. We can still escape back into the forest. They will not pursue us. Their duty is only to guard this plain.»
Blade pushed her away. «Too late for that now. Trust me and obey me. Exactly. Stay back and keep silent. Not one word. You understand?»
Her voice quavered. «Yes, Blade.»
«See that you do. And trust me. I will deal with these Api.»
The leader of the Api gave a high-pitched command. The line wheeled and began to march toward Blade. The maneuver was executed with grace and precision, the leader marching four paces in front. Blade leaned on his spear and, with a coolness he did not really feel, watched them come. He curled his mouth into a sneer, a grimace of disdain, as if the Api were scum and he the lord and master. How else to play it? Bluff it must be. Bluff and brass. Cold nerve. And when the time for killing came?
He must wait and see.
Chapter Eleven
The leader of the Api halted his men twenty paces from Blade. He ignored the big man leaning so indolently on his spear and sneering, and addressed the rank again. On his command, the Api drew their swords and presented them in salute. Faint hope stirred in Blade — they were so correct and formal. Maybe he would not have to fight for his life, and the girl's, after all. Of this notion he was soon disabused.
The leader Api barked a last command at his troops. «Rest. Remain as you are until further orders from me. It should not take long to settle this little matter. And remember, all of you, that as the ranking officer, and in command here, I will have the woman first.»
After four trips through the computer Blade had thought his capacity for amazement exhausted. Now he found that this was not so — it way amazing to find gorillas with baboon faces speaking, making sense, executing fairly intricate military maneuvers. As the leader swaggered toward him Blade found himself thinking of an American word — goon. A word that had its genesis in gorilla and baboon. From that moment he began to think of these strange creatures as goons. Intelligent goons.
The leader stopped five paces from Blade. He had drawn his sword, but let it dangle carelessly at his side. Just as careless was his first glance at Blade. He hardly deigned to notice the man. He was looking instead at Ooma, who had retreated to the mouth of the ravine and was crouching behind a boulder. Now, too late, she thought it better to conceal her nakedness.
Blade, always bold, said: «Your business is with me. Not with the woman. She is my woman. I will have that understood at once.»
A look of surprise flashed across the baboon face. The deep-set eyes studied Blade again, this time with more care. Strong man that he was, inured to travail and danger, Blade felt a shock of apprehension as the little eyes studied him intently. Pale. Colorless. Albino eyes without the pinkish tint. Intelligent eyes lacking any hint of emotion. As cold as death itself.
Still the goon did not speak. The white eyes swept Blade up and down. The fang-like teeth flashed in a snarling laugh as the long baboon muzzle crinkled in amusement. Finally it spoke. The voice, though still high-pitched, a treble, had nothing feminine about it. It was loaded with menace.
«What manner of thing are you? Whence come you? What do you want and where do you go?»
Blade left off leaning on his spear. His eyes were as cold as the goon's when he replied: «I am called Blade. I am a man. That is enough for you to know of me. I want nothing of you except to pass by in peace. I go to the mountains yonder and I take the woman with me. That, I think, answers all your questions. If so, and by your leave, we will be on our way. It was most courteous of you to turn out a guard of honor for us.»
And Richard Blade, cradling his spear in the crook of his elbow, standing tall with legs apart, put his hands on his hips and laughed at the leader of the goons.
For a moment doubt flickered in the pale, feral eyes. The goon put a paw to its hairy muzzle and stroked it. Slowly the sword came up until it was pointed straight at Blade. The weapon was long and pointed, double-edged, of wood cunningly inset with jagged flints to make a cruel edge. A terrible weapon, given the five to six hundred pounds of gorilla muscle behind it. Blade stood little chance against it. This he had known from the outset. Bluff was his best weapon.
Bluff was not going to work.
The goon leader was in no hurry. He gave Blade a deadly smile — the incisors were dog-like — and said, «You tell me your name is Blade, but what is that to me? My name is Porrex and what is that to you? You say you go to the mountain people, and yet I have had no word from the Jedds that they expect you. What of this, Blade?»
Blade scowled. «Nothing at all of it. The Jedds do not expect me. They know nothing of me. How could they? I come as a stranger from a far-off land. Yet it is to the Jedds that I will go — and nothing will stop me.»
Once again doubt showed in the colorless eyes and the goon hesitated before answering. Blade remembered what Ooma had told him — the Api were mercenaries, though vastly independent ones and not to be trusted, and their normal duty was to guard the Jedd borders against raids by the beastmen. Often they did not attend to duty, but went off hunting and searching for women. The Api never had enough women to go around. It had been on just such an occasion, when the Api were lax in duty, that the beastmen, the lake people, had slipped through on a raid and captured Ooma and many other Jedds.
This Porrex was now deep in thought, but he did not think long. The pale eyes stared at Blade and he said, «You may be right. I, Porrex, will not try to stop you. What my superiors do at the pass station is another matter, but it does not concern me. You who call yourself Blade may pass. But you must leave the woman to us. The Jedds have been very stingy of late, and we in the outposts are always last when it comes to women.»
Ooma had also explained that — now and then the Jedds gave women to the Api. Old women, or young women who had been condemned to die for some crime. Most of the latter, Ooma said, managed to kill themselves before they could be turned over to the goons.
Porrex was watching him narrowly. Blade smiled coldly and shook his head. «That I cannot do. I have told you— the woman is mine. She goes where I go.»
The baboon snout tightened. The wooden sword flashed in an arc. «Then she goes no further. Nor do you, Blade. I offered you your life and you refused. So be it. I will kill you and take the woman anyway. Wherever you come from, Blade, they must breed fools.»
Blade backed off slowly, his spear poised. There was sickness in his gut and a vile, hot fluid in his mouth. His heart was racing. The spear was nothing but a fire-sharpened stick of brittle wood, his arrows crooked and untrustworthy, the bow a poor thing meant for the smallest game. Against six hundred pounds of gorilla-baboon they were useless. As he backed away, circling, the spear poised bravely enough, he doubted if the spear or arrows would even pierce that massive furred body.
And yet maybe — the eyes?
Something sharp jabbed him in the back. There was pain and he felt blood trickle on his flesh. Blade glanced around. He was ringed by the other nine goons. They made a small, tight circle, their swords out-thrust to pen him in, nine pairs of eyes glittering in malefic glee. Life was dull at a dreary outpost like this — a little bloodshed would be a change of pace. Plainly they would enjoy seeing Blade gutted. And there was, of course, the woman.
The goon that had jabbed Blade spoke harshly. «Next time, stranger, I will put my sword through you. There is no escape this way. Fight Porrex and die, but do it quickly. We have not had a woman for months.»