When they were alone Gath said at once, «I will go with you into the land of the Kropes, Sire. I have served you well and it is my right.»
Blade went back to sit behind the field desk he had made. He pointed to a stool. Gath moved his swordbelt for comfort and sat down, scowling at his Sire.
«You will obey orders,» Blade told him. «It is true that you have served me well. None better. So do not spoil it now. I have great need of you, Gath. As the little Empress will have when I am gone. I—»
Gath would have interrupted, but Blade hurried on. «It may be that I will return. I cannot know the truth of this. But I do not think so — and if I am right the Jedds, and most of all the Empress Mitgu, will need your wisdom and strength. You heard how I spoke to the council just now — you saw them all agree to follow you in my absence. You will be Regent, Gath, and of this moment you must begin to think like one.»
The captain glowered and toyed with his swordhilt. «I would go with you, Sire. Let Kaven be Regent — or Crofta. Or Bucelus or Chardu or Holferne. Why must I be chosen?»
His temper flared for a moment and Blade leaned across the desk. «Because I say so! Because, damn it, I—»
Blade broke off and got himself under control. He smiled. «This is no time for friends to argue, Gath. Listen tome:
«One man, and one man only, has a chance to live beyond the Shining Gate. I am that man. I know that, Gath, and cannot explain how I know because there is no time. And even if I wasted a year in the explaining you would still not understand—»
«Am I so stupid, then?» Gath muttered and would not look at Blade.
«Not stupid,» Blade soothed, «but you are a Jedd. And I am of another world, another place and another time. I tell you this now, at last, in all truth.» Blade raised his right hand and closed his great fist. «In a sense, Gath, and for this purpose, I am the avatar!»
He thought that Gath shrunk a little away from him, but the blue eyes met his own with a steady gaze. After a moment Gath inclined his head.
«I will accept that, Sire. You are the avatar and it is not for me to question. I will obey you in all things, as best I can.»
With that he drew his sword and laid it on the desk with the point toward his own heart. Blade did likewise. Gath placed his hand where the swords joined and Blade laid his hand atop it.
«I charge you,» Blade said, «with the care of the Empress Mitgu. My wife. Not until I return, if I do, are you free of this charge. And if J do not return you must serve as Regent as long as she wishes it. In time, if the events serve and all goes well, it may be that she will take you for husband.»
Gath looked shocked.
Blade chuckled. «It is not beyond belief, my friend. As you will see. And now enough of this — you know what to do?»
«I do, Sire.»
Blade leaned back in his chair. «Repeat it to me then.»
Gath told it off by rote. «If in two days you have not come back to us I am to drive the remaining Api to the Shining Gate and see what happens. If they are destroyed as before I know that you have failed, that you have been slain or made captive by the Kropes, and I am to turn about and lead the Jedds back down the valley. I am to go as far south as possible, beyond the ruins of Jeddia, and found a new city among the ancient temples left there by my forefathers. I am to advise and aid the little Empress in ruling the Jedds.»
Blade nodded. «And if the Api are not destroyed? If the ball of flame does not destroy them?»
«I will know that you have succeeded and I will lead my people beyond the shining wall, through the narrow passage of which you spoke, or find a way to open the gate, and so the Jedds will claim the land of the Kropes and live there and, in time — or so you say, Sire — we will come to know all the secrets of these Kropes.»
It was well enough. Blade gave a few final orders and then took his leave of Gath. He felt suddenly very tired and much in need of sleep. And the pains in his head, though minor, were persistent.
As Blade sprawled on his cot he told a servant. «You will awaken me the moment the sun goes down.»
He slept.
Chapter Eighteen
Blade was traveling light. For weapons he had only his short iron sword and a dagger. He carried neither food nor water. He waited for an hour after full darkness, then made his way through the narrow winze that had eroded past the end of the steel wall. The way was tortuous and he was scraped and bleeding from a dozen minor abrasions when he emerged on the Krope side of the wall. He sought safety in the shadows at the foot of the cliff and took a breather and his bearings. And knew at once that something was wrong — or, from his viewpoint, right.
Except for the shadows where he now lurked, the great wall was lighted clear across the valley. He could see no fixtures, no light standards, nothing physical, yet the light was there. A misty soft radiance lacking any glare, yet showing up every detail. Blade smiled a bit grimly. Transmission of power without wires. They were working on it now back in Home Dimension.
He studied the large metal building. It was well lit, but now stood in silence and with no movement of any sort. No sound, no sign of life, only the eerie, brooding loneliness. Blade began to understand. He waited another ten minutes, then stalked into the light, his outward mien bold enough and his spine cold. If the ball of fire rolled now, if he had guessed wrong—
Silence. Nothing. Blade approached the metal house and peered through a window. They were in there, the robots, and they were motionless, frozen, caught in strange attitudes when the power had failed.
Failed? Or had it been cut off deliberately? Blade thought it must be the latter. He had just bet his life on it. He was awaited.
There was a full moon. It shimmered up over the horizon, a great golden orb in a cloudless sky, and against it Blade saw the gleaming spear of the high-rearing tower he had glimpsed from the crag. He began walking toward it.
He trudged in a silence and a desolation he had never known before; not for a little time did he come to realize that the aching solitude was as much in his own heart as in the forsaken landscape. He thought of his dead Ooma and willed himself not to think of her. The golden image of Mitgu leaped to his mind and that he also banished. His head pained and he began to sweat copiously. On and on he stalked, past the soundless factories and the empty homes — though he could see robot figures motionless in them both — and at last he came to where the land moved away toward the horizon in an endless belt of slow motion.
Blade halted and wiped his face and neck. He was drowning in sweat. His vision was fuzzy. He stared at the moving earth, then laughed harshly at himself. It was a moving walk, a level escalator six feet wide, moving toward the shining tower over which the full moon now hung like a yellow lantern.
He did not step on the moving walk at once. New pain lanced his head and he doubled up with another pain in his belly. Sweat cascaded down his big body. When the gut pain had gone, Blade straightened and, with his fingers, explored his groin and armpits. They were there — the soft swell, the beginning mushy lumps. Buboes. He had mistaken the headaches! It was not the computer searching for him.
Blade had the plague.
His nostrils tickled and he put a finger to his nose. It came away slightly stained with blood. The Yellow Death.
For one moment he knew terror as he had never known it before. Fear scourged him until his knees trembled and he could not breathe; and his throat and chest were stuffed with a noisome mist that choked him. For that instant he was a beaten man — then he breathed deep, stared at the tower and stepped on the moving sidewalk. He was not yet dead and there remained a task to complete. And there was, for him, a trifle of hope. Hope the Jedds could not know. Blade had a chance. A bare chance.