Now all he and Cheeky had to do was survive a barehanded duel against one of those hairy nine-foot monsters. Or almost bare-handed, at least…
Chapter 5
The morning of Blade's cleansing before the Great Hunters was his fourth in the village of the Rutari. The two hunters and two young women who guarded him awoke him even earlier than usual, and offered him a lavish breakfast. Boiled eggs, porridge, fried beans, a thick stew, dried fruit, thin beer to wash it all down-enough for three hungry people Blade's size.
He couldn't quite keep out of his mind thoughts about the condemned man eating a hearty meal. He'd worked out his plans carefully and in as much detail as he could, using every scrap of information gleaned on the Great Hunters and the place of the cleaning.
Only when Cheeky could be persuaded to stop thinking of Moyla was Blade able to work things out with him. The feather-monkey understood what was at stake, but Blade could only hope Cheeky's odd «crush» on the Wise One's familiar wouldn't affect his loyalty.
It also wasn't reassuring that Blade didn't know if the Wise One could hear his telepathic conversations with Cheeky. If she overheard him, she certainly would know a good deal Blade would rather she didn't.
He'd thought of probing his guards about the use of telepathy among the Rutari and their enemies. This ran him straight into his old problem: How much could he ask without giving away the fact that he was familiar with telepathy himself? That was one thing he would be just as happy the Wise One didn't know for a while!
Blade thanked his keepers so generously that the girls started to giggle, and the hunters glared at them. Until he'd survived his cleansing and been examined by the Wise One he was taboo for the women of the Rutari. The girls were willing to flirt, but they weren't willing to do anything that might lead to their facing the Great Hunters.
Despite the quantities of food served him, Blade ate lightly and made Cheeky do the same. Both of them would need all the speed they had against a creature that could probably rip Blade limb from limb without even breathing hard. Blade could no longer eat, drink, and make love all night and then go out to face half a dozen opponents quite as easily as he had when he was fresh out of Oxford. His travels in many countries and Dimensions had left their mark.
It was a clear, brisk morning. Blade, Cheeky, and his escort tramped swiftly down the valley to the sacred field at the bottom. The hills around the field made it a natural theater for the day's performance, and Blade quickly saw there was going to be no shortage of spectators. What looked like half the Rutari people were busily finding themselves places on the hillsides. Most of them carried skins or furs to sit on and leather bottles or hollowed-out gourds of beer. Some carried baskets of food. The general atmosphere seemed more like a holiday than a solemn religious occasion.
It struck Blade that the more the people drank, the more festive they'd feel and the more they'd appreciate a good show. He and Cheeky would do their best; having the crowd on his side might save his life.
The pit of the cleansing itself was about a hundred yards across, steep sided but with a level floor covered with short wiry grass and patches of gravel. On one side gaped the black maw of a cave; Blade caught the familiar carrion reek of a Great Hunters' den. In the middle of the pit stood a black stone pyramid with a ledge carved on one side. Even from a distance Blade could make out the ancient bloodstains on the stone. Beside the pyramid, steam rose from the mouth of another of the valley's numerous hot springs. If it was as hot as all the rest Blade had encountered, it would be more than hot enough for his purposes.
A drum began to thud slowly from somewhere up the valley, and the festive atmosphere quickly cooled. A few latecomers scurried in, while mothers and older daughters rounded up straying toddlers and shushed them to an uneasy silence. Then a short procession wound its way into sight around the flank of the next hill up the valley.
First marched six warriors wearing loinguards and carrying spears. They were led by Teindo. Next came four more warriors, carrying Awgal on a litter piled with moss and leaves. His head had been shaved and painted green. From his blank stare, it looked to Blade as if he was either drugged or scared out of his wits.
Then came the Wise One herself and a young woman- a very good-looking one, Blade couldn't help noticing. She seemed to be a sort of assistant or acolyte to the Wise One, carrying Moyla in a bag on her chest and a sack full of gourds, sprigs of herbs, and other magical gear on her back. Six more warriors, all naked, brought up the rear of the procession.
As they marched down into the pit and up to the pyramid, Teindo, as first among the Blue Hunters, was called on to pass Awgal into the hands of those who had the true knowledge of cleansing. First among these was the Wise One of the Rutari, who had a long list of other titles as well, though Blade had never heard her personal name mentioned. No doubt the Wise One had enemies so potent that it was unsafe to let her true name be known. Tiendo struck the pyramid three times with the feathered butt of his spear. Then he turned to the Wise One and delivered a short ritual speech:
«Let the Wise One perform the cleansing of Awgal. I call on the Spirits to witness, that I, Teindo Blue Hunter, have done my duty.» The Wise One made three passes over Teindo's head with her carved staff of office. Then she laid some herbs on the ground and set them on fire, and Teindo leaped three times through the smoke. Finally he led the other warriors up out of the pit to join the guards around Blade.
Through all of this Awgal sat on the litter, gazing vacantly into space. Now the Wise One approached him, straddled him, and seemed to give him another telepathic message. He slowly rose from the litter, moving like a disjointed puppet, and stumbled to the pyramid. With a little help from the two women, he lay down on the ledge.
Now both women took off their skirts and stood naked at the base of the pyramid. The Wise One poured something from a gourd into a clay cup, and the acolyte handed it to Awgal. Obedient as a child, he emptied the cup. From the sighs and whispers around him, Blade guessed his cooperation was a good omen.
After a minute or two Awgal began to stir-at least in one part of his body. The potion in the cup was obviously a potent aphrodisiac. The acolyte waited until Awgal reached the appropriate state of arousal, then positioned herself and slid down into place.
Awgal's face remained stonelike as the young woman rode him to one climax after another. The acolyte's face was more expressive. She might be doing this as a religious duty, but she was also having one hell of a good time doing it! Time after time her body twisted and convulsed, her head thrown back so far that her fine breasts with their erect nipples were pointed at the sky and her long black hair practically brushed Awgal's feet. In spite of the chilly morning, sweat was pouring off her, and after a while she could no longer be silent. Her sobs and groans floated out over the valley.
Blade would have been more interested if he hadn't remembered what was going to happen to Awgal as soon as the acolyte got through with him. This didn't bother some of the people around Blade; there was a good deal of public fondling going on-very public, considering how little everyone was wearing. One or two couples were actually down on the ground.
Under the influence of the aphrodisiac, Awgal's endurance exceeded the young woman's. At last she rolled off him, crawling down the pyramid on hands and knees, groaning with exhaustion and unable to stand. Again sighs and moans indicated this was a good omen.