The Wise One let out a shriek and clapped her hands to her groin. This left her completely defenseless against Cheeky, who swarmed up her body as if it were a tree. He planted his hind feet on her breasts, gripped both shoulders with his forepaws-and kissed her on the nose.
For a moment Blade was surrounded by the awesome silence of a thousand people all holding their breaths. He hardly breathed himself, and didn't dare move anything except one hand, in a signal to Cheeky to come back down and join him.
Then the silence fell apart as the thousand people dissolved in laughter. Blade let out his breath in a long whoooosssh. The little bastard had certainly been gambling for high stakes! If the Rutari had taken his antics as a breaking of taboos…
But they hadn't. They'd taken it as a good joke on the Wise One. Her own pride should keep her from ordering Blade killed or sacrificed now. Of course, she might have a few notions about what to do some other day, but Blade believed in living through each day as it came.
Cheeky responded to Blade's mental message, leaping down and hurrying back to his master's shoulder. He left the Wise One to recover her staff and as much of her dignity as she could manage. By the time the laughter died, she'd succeeded, and her acolyte had joined her on top of the pyramid.
Cheeky took advantage of the Wise One's distraction and reported his findings to Blade. The water in the hot spring was more than hot enough. The stones of the gravel were too smooth and fine to hurt Cheeky's paws. The footing was solid. Blade could not be slowed down-but neither would the Great Hunter.
Blade did not much care for the look in the Wise One's eyes as he turned his back on her to face the mouth of the cave. The acolyte, on the other hand-well, if she was still looking at him that way after the cleansing, he might take her up on the offer. He'd be in better shape to enjoy it than Awgal!
Blade's Great Hunter burst out of the cave at a dead run, spraying gravel as it came, its deep-set eyes fixed on Blade. The creature was closing in, and there was no time for analyzing anything. Cheeky jumped down from Blade's shoulder and ran one way. Blade ran the other. Blade was silent, while Cheeky made as much noise as he could. From what he'd overhead among the hunters, Blade knew the Great Hunters traced their prey mostly by sound and scent, not relying much on their poor eyesight. Cheeky was a lot smaller than Blade, but he could make as much noise, or more.
Blade's guess was the right one. The Great Hunter swerved after Cheeky, bending low and reaching forward. It seemed to realize vaguely that its prey was smaller than usual. As the clawed hands opened to scoop up Cheeky, the feather-monkey reversed course and dashed between the Great Hunger's legs. He got clean away, and for a moment the beast was off balance, its back turned to Blade.
Blade came up behind it in a leaping side-kick, driving his left foot into the small of its back. The foot had all of Blade's speed and two hundred and ten pounds behind it. Any human being's spine would have snapped like a matchstick. But the Great Hunter only staggered, then straightened up with an indignant grunt.
Blade felt as if he'd kicked a tree. He was reasonably sure he hadn't broken his foot. He wasn't sure he hadn't bruised it so badly it would swell up before the fight was over and slow him down.
For a moment, though, Blade still had all his speed. As the Great Hunter lurched around to face him, he chopped hard at the nearest wrist. Damaging one of the creature's hands couldn't hurt. Indeed, it couldn't hurt the Great Hunter: Blade had the feeling that he'd tried to chop through an iron bar.
In return, the Great Hunter lashed out with its other hand in a casual gesture, apparently intending to shoo Blade away like a fly rather than to inflict injury. The blow sent Blade flying over backward. If he hadn't known how to fall, he might have landed hard and stayed down until the Great Hunter finished him off. As it was, he landed rolling, made a complete somersault, and came up facing his opponent more or less in one piece. He was fairly sure his ribs weren't broken. He did suspect torn muscles and was sure of torn skin. Three parallel gashes were bleeding freely.
He'd better use his speed to stay out of the Great Hunter's reach for a while. Otherwise there were going to be more bleeding gashes in his skin, and not such neat ones either. He sent this message to Cheeky as well. He suspected that Cheeky would have much less trouble evading than he would. The feather-monkey could practically turn around in his own length, and he was much harder to detect as long as he kept quiet.
The crowd was now silent, their laughter at the Wise One's embarrassment long past. The sight of a man pitted against one of the Great Hunters with nothing but his own strength and wits and perhaps his pet to aid him was nothing to laugh at. The Wise One and her acolyte stood on top of the pyramid, their long hair now lifting to a slight breeze, their faces unreadable. Blade hoped that whatever the Wise One was thinking, she would stop short of giving the Great Hunter telepathic coaching on the fight. Then he and Cheeky settled down to their dance of death with the beast.
Once he'd decided firmly in favor of caution, Blade was able to keep his distance, not without danger but at least without skating along the thin edge of disaster again. The Great Hunter was strong enough to take on six men in a close grapple, and incredibly fast when running in a straight line. It couldn't turn fast, however, and its eyesight was definitely poor. It practically ignored Cheeky, except when Blade told the feather-monkey to make enough noise to draw the beast's attention and give his master a little time to breathe.
Since he'd started with the crowd on his side, Blade knew he had a while before anyone suspected him of being a coward. And as much as he wanted the goodwill of the Rutari, he would go right on keeping his distance from the beast for as long as he had to. He and Cheeky simply didn't dare confront a Great Hunter with its full strength and speed left. One of those clawed hands would connect, and even if it didn't kill Blade outright it would do so much damage that the next blow could finish the job. The goodwill of the Rutari would be of no use to a stone-dead Richard Blade.
The crowd began to buzz with excitement at the show Blade and Cheeky were putting on, circling around the pit. Snatches of conversation he overheard when Cheeky was drawing off the beast led him to believe this Great Hunter was a famous killer, and that he was doing something extraordinary by lasting so long against it.
If this was true, no doubt it would help after the fight-if there was an «after.» By now Blade had more doubts about the outcome of this fight than he'd had about any for years. The Great Hunter seemed to have the endurance of a diesel locomotive, rather than a creature of flesh and blood. Cheeky was definitely tiring, and Blade himself was slowly losing blood from his three cuts. Before much longer he would be weakened or slowed down even without taking any more damage from the Great Hunter.
Before that happened, he would have to strike at least one damaging blow. It wouldn't be wise to use his planned trick with Cheeky this soon, so he would have to think of something else, fast. Having eight feet of sudden death, fanged, clawed, and steel-muscled, thundering at his heels will make any man think faster. Blade's wits now worked like one of Lord Leighton's smaller computers, and came up with a possible solution.
At Blade's order, Cheeky began squeaking and squalling to draw the Great Hunter off as he'd done before. The bait worked as well as ever. The huge beast plunged after Cheeky, who scurried along before it, paws scrabbling frantically on the gravel.