Pearl Of Patmos

Then there was no more time for speculation. Blade heard them first. Under him. Beneath the cobbles. A clang of arms and the sound of men marching. At first he did not believe it, thought his senses were tricking him, then he spotted a blank slab of stone in the cobbled area near the fountain. A sewer opening, or at least a way in or out of some underground labyrinth of tu

Beyond the fountain he found a dark aisle between two houses. He eased into the gloom and crouched low, watching the slab of stone. Moonlight, stained scarlet by onrushing fires, and increasingly laden with ash and smoke, was sufficient for him to see plainly. The stone slab was flung aside and soldiers began to climb out of the revealed dark opening. Their helmet crests were red. Blade's teeth glinted in a sardonic grin. He was, in a matter of speaking, among friends. He would not depend too much on it.

The first man out of the hole was obviously an officer. His helmet plumes had not been shaven to a nubbed crest but stood tall, a red panache moving in the night wind. He carried a sword and a shield embossed with a figure of the goddess. Juna again. Blade nodded. He was begi

Man after man climbed out of the trapdoor in. the cobbles. Blade watched and listened, trying to piece it together, to make what he could of it.

The officer strode nervously back and forth, shouting and prodding his men, using the flat of his sword to form them into some kind of line. These were weary men, begrimed and bloody from hard fighting, many of them heavily bandaged. Some were swordsmen, some carried lances, and still others had bows and slings. All wore short leather kilts and high-laced buskins. And all grumbled and complained as they stumbled into a rough formation. Judging from their looks, Blade could not much blame them. They must have fought well, to be so beat up, and now they were to be sacrificed in a last desperate rear guard action.

The officer raised his sword for quiet, then began to speak.

«Soldiers of Thyme, I salute you. You have fought well against surprise and treachery and overwhelming odds. You have earned rest.»

A man spoke up in the front rank. «Aye, Captain Mijax. We have that. Then give us our rest. Grant us more than that-our lives. Let us leave this lost and dead city and make our way through the marshes to the coast. There is a chance that some of us will make it to Patmos. Then we can fight the Samostans again. But let us not fight here. Tbyrne is lost.»

The soldier had spoken boldly. For a moment there was silence in the square but for the wind sighing past the statue of Juna and dropping red and black ash in the fountain. The spying Blade felt his stomach tighten. He had a premonition that he was about to see something nasty.

The officer pointed his sword at the speaker. «Lancemen-drag that man here to me.»

There was some hesitation in the ranks. The captain called Mijax slashed his sword through the air and began to bellow. «Immediately, you stupid dolts. Bring him to me-or you will suffer his fate. Bring him forward this instantl»

Two sturdy lancemen dragged the soldier forward. He fought them, struggling and writhing, and did not lose his courage, He continued to shout defiance at the officer.

«You are a fool, Captain Mijax. A fool and a dupe. Thyme is lost and well you know it. Juna has forsaken us and you know that, too. Even now she is with her priests and preparing to flee to the coast. Why should we remain, why should we have to die? Our deaths can mean nothing now. It is senseless, without reason, to-«

The officer slashed him across the face with his sword: «Be quietl You are guilty of treason. Worse-you are a spy for Samosta. An agitator, a troublemaker. You are in the pay of Hectoris. It was you, or men like you, all traitors, who opened the sewer gates and let the Samostans creep into the city while we slept. I say this-and I say death for traitorsl»

The soldier, blood gushing from a great slash in his cheek, sought to struggle up from his knees. «A lie. All lies. Ask my comrades. I have been with them all the while, I have fought as bravely as any man here. You are not only a fool, Captain, you are an insane fool into the bargain.»

Blade winced. He had served his time as a lieutenantcolonel in the British army and he knew something of military «justice.» The man had been a fool to speak up so-now Blade did not give him much chance.

He was right. The man was gagged and forced to his knees again. Captain Mijax, his face grim, struck off the man's head with one stroke of his sword. He kicked the head aside and brandished his stained sword at the troops.

«Let this be a warning. I speak in Juna's name. All traitors will meet the same fate.» He kicked the headless body. «This coward lied. Thyme is not dead. Thyme is wounded, on her knees, but Thyme will rise again.»

Phony histrionics, thought the watching Blade. The captain did not believe his own words. Not did the men believe them-there was a low mutter from the ranks but none spoke up. Blade moved a bit closer to the troops, having all but made up his mind to tag along with them. His uniform was right-he was wearing the red plumeand he judged that his chances would be greater with the soldiers than prowling alone in this stricken city. For the.°-. time being. He had no intention of dying for Thyme.

A solitary horseman, his steed covered with blood and= sweaty froth, debouched from a lane and clattered across the cobbles of the square to the assembled troops. Captain Mijax called his battered men to attention and doffed his helmet and bowed to the rider. Blade watched with new interest. The man must be someone of importance and authority.

Captain Mijax raised his sword. «Hail, Gongorl How,

goes the battle, Excellency?» `

«Against us, Captain. Against us in every sector. Hectoris sits in the palace and doles out our maidens for the raping. Our treasure is taken and even now is being shared by the barbarians. How many men do you have here, Captain?»

The man who spoke was elderly. He was helmetless and his scant white hair was in disarray and smeared with blood. His face, grimed with smoke and ash, was narrow and beak-nosed; his eyes were pouched and weary, yet glittering with a dark anger. He wore a metal corselet and the familiar leather kilt and high buskins. A short sword was belted to his waist.

«Some three hundred odd,» said the Captain. He gestured at his troops. «As you can see, sire, they have fought hard and are not at their best.»

The white-haired man held up a hand for silence, then pointed to the body of the beheaded man. «What was his crime?»

The Captain explained. When he had finished Gongor-a general or a senior statesman, Blade thoughtshook his head in weariness and, Blade surmised, a trace of pity.

«You were probably wrong, Captain. I doubt the man was a spy or agitator. Thyme has been betrayed, but the betrayal was in high places, not low. Not that it matters now-the man was right. We must abandon the city. We few are all who are left. The main body of our troops has been slain or taken prisoner. This sector of the city is all that remains to us, and that only because it is the poorest and not fit for looting. So hear my orders, Captain. We e will fight a rear guard action, if we must, and attempt escape by.the north gate. I say attempt, because our chances are not good. The Samostan cavalry, by the orders of Hectoris himself, remains outside to ring the city and prevent just such escape. It is our good fortune that Hectoris has not yet ordered them into the streets to hunt down stragglers. So we had best be quick about it. Form your men into columns and make for the north gate with all speed-such of us as can get into the marshes may escape and come to the shore, and so to Patmos to fight again.»