And knowing that made it impossible for him to kill. If the eight women had been coming at him with swords in their hands, he would not have held back from killing them. Anyone who hesitates in such a situation doesn't live to be praised for his chivalry. But, as he had anticipated, the women were and would be as helpless as so many babies. It was hardly in Blade to cut the throats of eight sleeping men. It was beyond him to do the same to eight sleeping women, whatever their vices.
But there were other ways to deal with them that would make them think twice about their next hunting trip. Blade took those last four steps and came up behind the sentry. His hands flashed down like striking snakes, and his thumbs snapped shut on key nerves. The woman twitched once, then slumped even farther down, into an even deeper sleep.
Blade strode over to the pile of weapons. He picked up a sword and with it cut all the bowstrings, one by one. Then he threw the bows themselves on the fire. The arrows followed. The fire, which had been dying down, began to blaze up again in a great crackling and snapping. Blade began to pick up the swords and drop them also into the flames. The metal would not burn, but after a few minutes in the campfire it would have no temper left. The women might be able to use their swords for butter knives, but not for weapons.
He was picking up the fourth sword when one of the women threw off her cloak and sat up. Apparently the sudden flare-up of the campfire had awakened her. Her eyes widened as she saw Blade's tall figure silhouetted against the fire. Then she gave a shriek of surprise and fury and hurled herself forward. Her hand dropped to her belt, and a knife flashed.
Blade could have spitted the woman like a barbecued chicken if he had wanted to. But he did not thrust with the sword as she rushed wildly at him. Instead, he brought it over and down, striking hard at her knife hand. He wanted to disarm her without hurting her, if possible.
But she was moving too fast for such precise aim. The sword ripped into her hand, and she gave another kind of scream. She lost her balance, but her rush carried her forward, to sprawl at Blade's feet.
Instantly he slammed his right foot down on her left hand and aimed his sword at the back of her neck. Her screams had awakened the other women. They were sitting up now, staring at Blade. He reached down to pick up another sword and waved it at them. The firelight struck dazzling reflections from the polished steel.
«Don't move, any of you,» he said. He did not raise his voice or show any anger. He might have been describing the weather. «If you do, she dies first.» He jerked his head downward. «Then the rest of you. Just lie quietly, and you'll all live to get home-with luck.»
«Who-you?» exclaimed one of the women, shaking her head as if trying to drive away a nightmare. Most of the others merely stared at Blade, as if they still could not believe that they were awake. But the leader's voice was calm when she spoke. Blade instantly marked her down as the most dangerous of the eight.
«You are not of the Senar, are you?» she said.
«The ones I saw you rape, kill, and eat? No, I am not of them.»
«Then what are you doing in Brega, defying the Laws of Mother Mina? And how did you get into our camp without-?»
Blade grinned, but it was not a friendly grin. «I think it is not your time to ask questions, woman. But I will say this. I came into your camp as I did because your sentry was so glutted with Senar flesh that she fell asleep. A child could have done as much. And I am not a child. I am a warrior of my people.»
«Your people-?»
«Are not your concern, woman. Perhaps the guard your party keeps is, though.» The leader nodded, and shot a poisonous glare at the sleeping sentry. Blade could easily see that she would take out this night's humiliation on the sentry the next morning, slowly and painfully.
He waited until he thought the leader had savored that picture long enough. Then he said, «But I am taking your sentry with me. I should like some company as I travel through these lonely forests.» His face twisted into a goatish leer. The leader winced, realizing what sort of «company» Blade had in mind. «She will live as long as I hear no sounds of pursuit behind me. Now, woman-throw me your tunic and trousers. And be quick about it.» Blade reinforced his words by bringing his sword against the neck of the woman at his feet.
The leader had enough sense not to argue further. She stood up and threw her tunic at Blade. It landed at his feet. She undid her trousers and let them slide down her legs into a heap on the ground. Blade read in her eyes a moment's hope that the sight of her nudity would distract him. But he kept his face stone hard, and she gave an audible sigh and threw the trousers after the tunic. Blade bent without taking his eyes off the woman, scooped up both garments, then stepped back from the woman on the ground.
This was the dangerous moment. For a few seconds he would have no hostages to threaten. If the leader was willing to risk or even sacrifice her life, she could force Blade to concentrate on killing her. And then the other women would have their chance, if they could take it.
Either the leader was not willing, or she judged that her followers would not take any chance she might give them. She remained motionless, glaring at Blade, as he stepped over to the sleeping sentry. He bent down and one massive arm scooped her up as easily as a child. He threw her over his shoulder, then stepped back farther, outside the circle.
«Remember,» he said quietly. «She lives as long as you don't follow me. You pursue, and she dies. And then the rest of you. One by one.»
He turned his back contemptuously on the women and was gone into the darkness of the forest.
Chapter 5
Blade had done his best to leave the women no equipment for anything except a hasty retreat from the forest, and therefore no alternative. And he hoped that the threat to kill his prisoners would keep them from sending any other hunting parties after him.
Once out of sight of the campfire, he stopped long enough to pull on the clothes and buckle on the various weapons. As he had expected, the tunic and trousers were a snug fit. But they were less uncomfortable than running around the forest with the chilly breezes, working on his bare skin. And the weapons would enable him not only to defend himself, but also to hunt down the food he and his prisoner would need to keep them alive until-
Until what? As he finished dressing, Blade realized that for once he had no very clear idea of what to do or where to go. This land, it seemed, was called Brega. The wild men were called-at least by the huntresses-the Senar. The huntresses seemed to prey successfully on the Senar, using them for sport, sex, and food. But Blade had no idea how many of the hunting parties or of the Senar might be in the forest that stretched for some unknown number of miles around him. And he had even less idea of what might lie beyond the forest.
Blade shrugged and realized that he could not answer any such questions now. He would have to talk to his prisoner before he could hope to understand the way things were in Brega. He bent down and once more hoisted the woman over his shoulder. Then he strode away into the night.
He kept on the move until dawn began turning the sky high above from black to blue to gray to pale pink. The breeze died away, and the birds began to whistle and chirp in the trees overhead. Although his mouth was turning dry, Blade kept on for another hour, until it was broad daylight. At that point he came to a small stream, bubbling out from a mossy patch under a bush. This seemed as good a stopping point as any and better than most. Gently he lowered the woman to the ground, almost gasping at the relief to his half-numb shoulder. The woman was small and comparatively light, but there is no really light weight for carrying seven miles through a dark forest on one shoulder.