Blade quickly discovered that to him the cup-ended stick was much more important in the game of nor than good riding or a fast ezinti. Blade had a longer and stronger arm and a sharper eye than any of the Uchendi riders. He could pick up a ball faster than any and hurl it farther and more accurately at the goal. The goals were foot-wide holes set in the top of mounds of earth at either end of the field. The ball had to be thrown accurately into the hole, not just slammed toward it and allowed to roll in.
It was also to Blade's advantage that when he swung his stick against another rider, it hurt. In practice, he and everybody else pulled their blows. On the day of the game, everybody would be striking full force. Broken bones were common in the game of nor, and dead ezintis not infrequent. There had even been dead men, although Uchendi warriors were hard to kill.
«Nor seems to be how you people practice for war,» said Blade one evening, after a practice session that left him with bruises all over and a split lip. He'd scored six goals, so he was feeling rather good in spite of the aches and pains.
«It is,» agreed Friend of Lions. «But I do not know if the Guardian will allow us to use man-strikes with the sticks in this Great Game. The Rutari watch and wait, and all of our warriors must be whole and ready to fight when they come.»
«That is so,» said Blade. «But why doesn't the Guardian just give the order not to strike?»
«It might anger Winter Owl,» said Friend of Lions. «His team has five of the strongest man-strikers of the Uchendi. They would lose much strength if they could not play as they usually do.»
No need to ask if the Guardian feared to anger Winter Owl. Blade began to wish he hadn't sworn to play against the warrior's team. However, it was too late to back out now without letting down the White Trees. That would be just as bad as angering Winter Owl by helping to beat his team.
There was one consolation. Blade now had an ezinti of his own, a sturdy if rather slow-wilted beast. He could ride out of the village any time he wanted privacy, as long as he was back before nightfall. He didn't need to ride very far before he had enough privacy to start testing with bow and arrows while he waited for the Great Game of nor to take place.
The bow was no problem. His harness made a good one, just as he'd expected. If it got too hard he would dip it in a cold stream to make it more flexible; if it got too soft he would lay it on a sun-heated rock. Ezinti sinew made a good bowstring, and he'd found reeds tough enough for arrows to use for demonstration and practice.
He'd want wooden arrows with stone or even bronze heads before the war started. Unless he could find a poison for them, pointed-reed arrows wouldn't do much damage to the shpugas. Those hairy hides would repel a light bullet, let alone most arrows! Newly trained archers couldn't hope to hit vital spots and cause any significant damage.
Feathers for the arrows were a problem. The Uchendi had several different kinds of domestic fowl, and Blade tried them all. He collected so many different feathers that the Guardian himself wondered why.
«Before the war with the Rutari comes, I must make a war bonnet of feathers in the English style,» Blade said. «I must test each kind of feather with my magic, where it will not disturb the village. The Rutari would not let me do that. This is one reason why I left them.»
«None of the Uchendi will speak against the ways of the English without answering to me,» said the Guardian.
«I thank you,» said Blade. He would have been even more grateful if the Guardian had promised to make the warriors speak for English ways. But the Guardian ruled the Uchendi only in matters of telepathy and religion, not war.
Eventually Blade discovered that the best feathers came from something called a greenfoot, about the size of a chicken and the shape of a goose, with a nasty temper but a delicious flavor when roasted. Blade fletched two dozen reed arrows with greenfoot feathers and made all the rest into the promised war bonnet. Then he took everything out to his chosen archery range in a little fold of hills south of the village.
He was a good archer, but he wanted to be even better before he demonstrated archery to the Uchendi. He had to show them not only that it existed, but that it would work.
Four days before the Great Game of nor, Blade reached his archery range. It was midmorning and he'd left the village before dawn, with his stomach empty except for a drink of water. The first thing he did was eat a handful of nuts and a slab of dried meat. Then he settled down to practice.
By noon he'd used all his arrows several times, broken four of them, and brought down two birds on the wing. He was particularly proud of that. The birds were no larger than quail, and he'd picked them off at fifty yards. The reed arrows were better than he'd expected, and if he could find a poison for them they might do a job even against the shpugas.
He decided to make up for missing breakfast by roasting the birds for lunch. He was squatting in the shadow of a boulder, plucking the birds, when he heard the faint scraping of feet on stone above him.
Blade jumped up and away from the boulder in a single motion, then snatched up his spear and drew his knife in a second one. Soft laughter answered him, and Eye of Crystal's head appeared over the top of the boulder. She was grinning complacently.
«How did you get here?»
«I followed your trail. A child could have done that.»
«A child can follow anyone who does not think he is being followed.» It was true that Blade hadn't bothered to hide his tracks. He hadn't thought he would need to, either. «Very well. I have not been wise. That does not tell me why you are here.»
«I wanted to see what you were doing, so that I might tell my father if it was dangerous to the Uchendi.»
«You took a big chance. Suppose it was so dangerous that I decided to kill you to keep you from talking about it?»
«I did not let you hear me until I knew it was not dangerous. I knew you would not kill me unless you thought I would put you in danger.»
Blade couldn't deny that. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd rather not leave the Uchendi than speak a word against Eye of Crystal. He wasn't exactly in love with her, but he'd bend over backward not to hurt her.
«So what do you think of what I am doing, now that you have decided it is no danger to the Uchendi?»
«I think it might be a danger to the shpugas of the Rutari. Is that what you want it to be?» she asked with a sly smile.
Blade's well-trained sixth sense for other people's tricks told him there was something more behind Eye of Crystal's grin. Probably not dangerous, but something he needed to know. «Yes. You see clearly. But it is not ready to be taken to war against the shpugas, or anything more dangerous than those birds you saw me kill.»
«I know. It cannot be taken to war at all, unless my mother's brother, Winter Owl, allows it. He has the last word in such matters of war.»
Here it comes, thought Blade. «Why do you tell me what I already know? Do you think I have lost my wits?»
«No.» She laughed. «At least I do not think that playing against Winter Owl's team in the Great Game of nor is a sign of madness. But if he also learns that you are making weapons-magic without telling him-Blade, what did you say?»
What Blade had muttered under his breath was, «There must be something in the water of this Dimension!» First Cheeky, now Eye of Crystal, playing at blackmail. «I do not wish him to know this, indeed. Do you wish to tell him?»
«That depends.»
«On what?»