For the first time the man smiled. «That I can well believe.» He turned to his men. «Up, up on your feet, all of you. The Pendarnoth himself has said it-honor him on your feet like warriors, not on your bellies like snakes or bugs. The Pendarnoth said he left some of the Rojags perhaps not dead back about four o f in to the west. Six of you go back, find them, and kill them. None among the Rojags must know that the Pendarnoth has come, that the Golden Steed has come.»
Reluctantly, six of the men rose to their feet, mounted, and trotted off in a precise line. The officer turned back to Blade. «Pendarnoth, it will be simpler if you know my name. I am Guroth, a captain in the guards of King Nefus of Pendar. Rumors had come to Vilesh, the royal city of Pendar, that the Golden Steed had been seen, that the Pendarnoth had been seen. I was ordered to take my men north into the land of the Rojags. I was ordered to see if there was any truth in these rumors and, if so, how much. It seems there was complete and utter truth. It was beyond my dreams and deserving to be the first of all Pendar to hail the Pendarnoth.» There was awe in his voice as he said that, and for a moment he seemed about to go down on his knees again. But he conquered the impulse and went on.
«We saw the dust cloud from a long way off, and knew that it must be Rojags. They do not use the bow, so we can usually beat them. I decided to attack. If we took prisoners, I could perhaps find out more about the rumors from them. As we came closer, I saw that the Rojags were chasing somebody. Then I recognized the Golden Steed. It was a terrible moment for me. How could we shoot at the Rojags without danger to the Golden Steed and to you? But my men are good archers, and we killed the Rojags.»
«You did well, Captain Guroth,» said Blade. The officer seemed to want to be praised, so why not oblige him? «But I also have a name. It is Richard Blade.»
«A strange name,» said Guroth. «But it does not matter how strange it is, for you will not be called by it among the Pendari. It is written in the Book of the Nine Prophets that he who comes to Pendar riding the Golden Steed will be the Pendarnoth, the Father of Pendar.»
«So be it,» said Blade. He wondered if he should ask for a copy of the book whose prophecies he had accidentally fulfilled. It might give him a few clues as to how to act. He disliked flying blind in something where his life might be the price of a single mistake.
But Guroth was continuing. «How did you come to ride the Golden Steed, Oh Pendarnoth? The rumors spoke of a man called Nurash, a war chief of the mountain tribes to the north even of the Rojags. Do you know him, or at least of him?»
That question forced Blade into some exceedingly fast thinking. How much could he admit safely? Finally he said slowly, «I have heard of this man called Nurash also. But I have never met him, spoken to him, or even seen him. He is as much a name to me as he is to you. I have heard tales that he is dead, slain by wild animals or the Rojags.»
«Indeed,» said Guroth. «Perhaps the gods saw he was not worthy and sent the animals or Rojags to destroy him. They can do such things.»
«No one doubts this,» said Blade. «But I heard of him as a brave man and a warrior. If he is dead, I grieve, for there are few such.»
«There is no denying that,» said Guroth with a sigh.
Now the men who had gone to track down the remaining Rojags were coming back. Blade found himself almost holding his breath as they approached. The Rojags who had attacked him were almost certainly of the same band that had attacked Chief Nurash. Suppose one of them talked before he died, talked of a fight with another man who had ridden the Golden Steed before Blade? Guroth's wits seemed too sharp for him to let such a story pass. His awe of the Pendarnoth would not keep him from asking pointed questions. In fact, it would make him ask those questions, even of Blade. And if he did not get the answers he wanted? Blade knew that the fate of a man posing as a long-awaited religious figure could be hard indeed. He wondered if the local gods demanded human sacrifices, and if so by what method?
But for the moment at least there was nothing to fear. The six horsemen returned to declare all the Rojags dead-nothing else. Guroth turned to Blade and said, «O Pendarnoth, it seems to me proper now that we ride for Vilesh. King Nefus will want to behold you and do you proper honor. So will the High Councilor and all the nobles and warriors and people of Pendar. This is a great moment for all of us. We are truly beloved of the gods. Now, though all the soldiers of Lanyr come against us, we shall prevail.» Guroth swung himself lightly into the saddle and motioned Blade to do the same.
The Pendari moved out slowly, holding their pace to the gentle jog that was all Blade would ask of the weary Golden Steed. After three hours they stopped by the river to refill their water bottle and lunch on dried meat and flat hard bread. The Pendari warriors would not permit Blade to do a thing for himself. They waited on him hand and foot, filling his water bottles, sharpening his battered sword, pressing clean clothes on him, handing the food to him and all but shoving it into his mouth. Blade felt like a goose being fattened for the slaughter. He could not help wondering in fact if the destined duty of the Pendarnoth was to be sacrificed after he had performed his other duties. What those duties were, he still didn't have the faintest idea. Guroth would no doubt tell him, but it might not be wise to ask the captain too many questions where the other warriors could overhear. Guroth seemed an intelligent enough man not to be surprised that the destined savior of the Pendari knew not the first thing about them or their problems. The other warriors might not be so wise.
Blade's chance came when they had made camp for the night. They pushed on until well after dark in an effort to get clear of Rojag land, and it took them an hour after that to make camp. By the time dinner was over, the fires blazing orange in the darkness, and the sentries posted, the only thing Blade was ready for was sleep. But Guroth had apparently decided to take one of the first watches himself. This gave Blade a perfect opportunity to ask the necessary questions.
He rose to his feet and strode past the fire, out to where the captain was pacing back and forth, hand on his sword hilt, eyes ceaselessly flicking from side to side. The captain made the hands-together greeting to Blade.
«Hail, oh Pendarnoth. It is said that the Pendarnoth shall have ten times the strength of a man. Is this true of you? You do not seem tired.»
Blade laughed. «Am I supposed to have the strength of ten in everything, Guroth?»
The officer smiled. «In everything, so the stories, say. But the stories are not part of the Book of the Nine Prophets. I do not think people will expect that you have the strength of ten. Although there may be women who hope so, and will even try to find out.»
«I will worry about that when it happens,» said Blade with a grin. Then his voice and expression sobered. «No, Guroth, I am only a man who has been called to this honor by the gods after many years of being nothing but a traveler and a warrior. I have traveled far and I have tried to be a good warrior. But I do not know if all I have learned of men and war will be enough to make me worthy of being Pendarnoth.»
Guroth looked hard at Blade. Blade's words seemed to have surprised him, or at least to have been something he was not expecting. There was on his face the unmistakable look of a man weighing his words with care before saying them. Blade was the Pendarnoth, who would have great and terrible power among the Pendari as soon as they arrived. But he was also a man. He might have human weaknesses that would make it unsafe to tell him things he could use against the Pendari. Blade knew that if Guroth decided to be cautious and closed-mouthed, there was nothing he could do except submit graciously-and keep his ears open even wider.