Ice Dragon

He started again as ru

The initial impression on Blade was that of two giant stalks of asparagus with four lobster claws apiece. It was a moment before he could begin sorting out details into a more detailed picture. As far as he could see, the two Menel were identical in size, coloring, and form, with no visible sense or sex organs and no clothing except a broad mesh belt around their-well, call them «necks»-with a silver disc set in the front of it. Both were just over nine feet tall and a foot and a half in diameter, the «stalks» tapering toward the «tip» end to a point only a couple of inches thick. They maneuvered themselves across the floor by a snail-like pulsing of a broad suction disk at their base, to the accompaniment of a stomach-turning sucking noise, and balanced themselves with two of the four arms. The other two were kept tightly folded against their bodies.

All four arms were double-jointed, nearly eight feet long at full extension, with spiky nobs at the joints. They ended in foot-long lobster-like claws with sharp edges and even sharper points. Just above the claws on each arm was a pair of two-foot tentacles, now tightly curled, but presumably the Menels' equivalent of fingers. If the claws were as formidable as they looked, Blade could understand why the Menel carried no weapons when visiting humans who carried nothing more than swords or spears. They did not appear particularly fast-moving, but with those long arms, did they need to be?

The Menel were making their stately if noisy way toward the stairs, and Blade realized that they were heading up to the Heart level, where they would have even more of their conditioned guards to protect them. He would have to make his move now. He waited until the Menel were almost at the foot of the stairs, with three guards already ahead of them on the first flight, then he darted across the open space to where the two regular guards still stood motionless. He ducked behind one of them, snatched his spear from his hand, and without stepping into view threw it full force at the center one of the three guards escorting the Menel from the rear.

His throw was accurate; the spear drove straight through the surprised guard's chest and came out through his back so far that its point almost nicked one of the Menel. The guard clutched at the shaft, eyes widening, then toppled as his two companions brought their spears up to the ready and looked wildly about for the attacker. In the few seconds it took them to focus on the two motionless guards, Blade dropped to the floor and rolled away into a corner, watching for the next move. He had just risen to a watchful crouch when the Menels' guards saw that one of the two no longer carried his spear, drew the hoped-for conclusion, and threw theirs. The spears thudded into the guard, toppling him off his feet and stabbing deeply not only into his body but into his conditioning. He let out a nightmare scream that echoed through the dim corridors, and that scream somehow galvanized his companion into life.

Blade saw the man stir, raise his spear, then look about him and see the Menel. And then he also screamed, drawing his sword and hurling himself forward at the two remaining Menel guards so fast they barely had a chance to draw their swords before he was on them, slashing with his sword, stabbing with his spear, and shrieking like a madman. The Menel lurched around, unfolding all four arms to full extension. One of the guards from up on the stairs tried to get past them and join in the fight, tripped over one of the outstretched arms, and crashed down on to the floor at the feet of the attacking guard, who chopped down with his sword and took the man's head off with a single stroke. A split-second later one of the two Menel guards got home to the attacker's thigh; he staggered and began to go down. And then the rear Menel reached down with two arms, their claws opened to the widest, and closed both pincers on the man's chest. The air went out of him in a horrible bubbling scream, and Blade heard bones crunching as the pincers met.

So far Blade had done more in less time and with less risk to the Menel themselves than he had dreamed possible. But he knew he couldn't stop yet; the situation would have to be pushed to a pitched battle and the Menel themselves more seriously endangered than they had been so far. Crouching low, he moved out onto the floor to the body of the first guard killed, picked up the man's truncheon, then sprang forward, covering the space to the foot of the stairs in a single tiger-like bound.

The Menel saw him first; whatever they used in place of eyes could apparently see better in this dim light than the guards could. Two arms snaked toward him past the two rear guards; he raised the truncheon and smashed it down hard on the left pincer, then ducked back as the two guards whirled around and sent their swords whistling toward his head. There was not room enough for both of them to make a full swing; the two blades crashed into each other with 'an ear-splitting clang and one flew clear out of its owner's hand. Blade thrust the disarmed man through the chest before he could recover, parried a cut from the other, and slashed him in the leg. The Menel now lunged out with three arms together, emitting a staccato banging noise from the disk at its throat that sounded like somebody pounding on an iron pipe, and tried to move down a step for a better reach. It hit a blood-covered patch of stone, lost suction, lost its balance, and fell head toward Blade with a squashy thump. For a moment it was completely at Blade's mercy, half-stu

Blade let that moment pass. As he saw the Menel approach, as he saw it totter and overbalance, he reached a fixed and final decision. Insofar as possible, he would never kill one of the Menel, And he would certainly not kill this one. He would not even injure it if he could avoid it.

And he could avoid it. Flourishing the sword back and forth in an air-tearing blur, he lashed out with it at one of the claws, felt the blade rasp across a bony substance as hard as steel and no more vulnerable. With his left hand he brought the truncheon up over his head, whipped it down straight at the creature's «neck»-just above the silver disk-with all the strength in his body-and then with muscle-wrenching precision brought it to a dead stop in mid-air an inch from the Menel's skin.

That «I could have killed you but I won't» gesture nearly cost Blade his own life during the extra seconds it required. The other Menel lunged at Blade, nearly losing its own balance but almost closing one pincer on his left arm. He sprang back from the fallen Menel, slipping as he did so on the blood-smeared stones and landing full-length on his back. The other Menel could not reach him, but the remaining guards could; he saw spears raised and rolled desperately to one side as two of them smacked into the stone where he had been lying and went skittering off into a corner. Two of the guards charged down, swords swinging, but by now he was up on his knees and parried one slash with the truncheon, then jabbed the man in the stomach with the tip, while at the same time his sword whistled out and chopped the second man's left leg off at the knee. He screamed and went down, while Blade sprang up in time to meet the remaining guard in a clanging flurry of blows.