King Of Zunga

«He indeed is the one pushing for all-out war against Zunga,» said Roxala as they lay in her bed watching dawn break over the city. Blade managed to avoid any visible reaction. But the queen's words were a considerable surprise to him. So Kleptor was actually pushing for the thing the Zungans most feared, an invasion in strength by Rulam's ironclad soldiers?

But Roxala was going on, too concerned with her own views of the situation to pay any attention to Blade's reactions. «Yes, he is massing the beasts and the men and the wagons in his camp already. In another two or three months he will start south, as soon as the summer heat leaves the plains. He thinks that by conquering the Zungans he will obtain such glory that he will be able to move against me, remove me, execute me even.» She turned to him and flowed against his chest. «And it was Kleptor who ordered the efforts to capture you. The-whatever you call your Minister for War down in Zunga-the-«

«The On'ror?» Blade's voice was flat and cold.

«Yes, that one.» She made no attempt to pronounce the name. «He and your priests sent word that if you were allowed to train the Zungans in your new fighting arts, it would become almost impossible to defeat them. So Rulami soldiers were wandering all over the Kandan forests looking for you.» She smiled. «I didn't care much whether the Zungans learned to fly through the air on broomsticks and land on top of the royal palace. I still don't. The important thing is, I have you. Here. With me. And no other woman can have you again.» Then they made love once more.

Fortunately Roxala had some affairs of her own to attend to, so Blade was left alone after breakfast. He badly needed both the breakfast, to fill his stomach, and the solitude, to set his thoughts in order.

Roxala was lusty, scheming, fiercely jealous, and feared nothing and no one, not even King Kleptor. She was a dangerous protectress, but would be an effective one as long as he satisfied her physical desires. And she was not ambitious for conquest. Kleptor was. And that made him the real enemy. Behind Roxala's protection-from behind her skirts, as it were-Blade had a priceless opportunity to work against the man who dreamed of conquering Zunga. He wished he could also get word back to the Zungans of the On'ror's treachery. That would give Afuno all the excuse he needed and ten times more besides to move against the Ulungas. But without Kleptor, there would be no one left to whom the On'ror could betray Zunga. The On'ror and his priestly allies would be left stranded and harmless. Kleptor had to be the main target for now.

Blade found the next two months maddeningly frustrating. He had complete freedom to move about within Roxala's palace, and all the servants jumped to obey any order he gave. Or almost any. He could not leave the palace without the queen accompanying him, nor could he pay any attention to the woman slaves. He did not mind so much being confined to the palace most of the time. Certainly not after four black-masked men leaped out of the bushes in the courtyard one night while he walked there in search of fresh air. He was unarmed, but fortunately they only had knives, so he found it easy to kill two at once and hold off the others until the guards came up and finished the work. If Blade had doubted Kleptor's hostility before, he did so no longer. Even the queen was surprised by the limits to which the king seemed prepared to go.

«I think he truly fears that you are a threat to his throne, not just to his possession of me,» Roxala said. «Before, the men I have taken were good, stout fellows, lusty and strong and inexhaustible. But what brains they had were between their legs, not between their ears. He knows that you are a different kind of man. You have all the talents of those who have come before you-«she gri

So there was another thing for Blade to worry about. Was Queen Roxala suddenly going to start plotting to overthrow Kleptor? Not that Blade objected to overthrowing Kleptor-in fact it was the best thing that could happen for the Zungans. But he did not want to get any more involved in anything Roxala was pla

He liked and trusted her even less after seeing what she did the one and only time he spoke to one of the slave girls. The poor girl made matters worse by replying. She even smiled at Blade as she did so. The next morning Roxala led Blade down into a deep cellar, where the girl was chained to a wall. She had Blade stand and watch while the girl was whipped until her back was pulped, raw, bloody flesh. Then the girl was turned around-and this time when the whip stopped she was dead.

But Roxala let herself go that way only a few times. Meanwhile, she taught Blade or had him taught an immense amount about living among the Rulami. He was initiated into the Caste of Warriors. Roxala took particular delight in making Horun one of the warriors whose role it was to stand up and bear witness to Blade's skill as a fighter. He was taught the use of Rulami weapons, which he learned easily and well. He was taught to ride and manage the Ivory People. That he did not learn so easily, but he put so much effort into it that he also learned it well. When and if the time came for escape, he would find that escape far easier mounted on one of the great beasts, pounding along at seventy miles a day. He also studied all the maps of Rulami and Kandan territory he could get hold of. He told Roxala that he wanted to be able to play a part in the coming war with the Zungans worthy of his rank.

Roxala was almost skeptical. «But were you not aiding the Zungans to develop new ways of fighting us?»

«I was. But I see things rather differently now. This is a great city and a mighty people. The Zungans are a bunch of black savages living in huts.» Never mind that Afuno was a better and wiser leader than any Blade had seen in Rulam or Kanda, or that Princes Aumara was worth ten of this lust-driven and sadistic queen. Blade knew he had to fill Roxala's ears with what she wanted to hear. And what she wanted to hear was what all the Rulami believed-that the Zungans were worthless black savages, fit only to be stamped out under the feet of Rulam's soldiers and made slaves.

For all her sophistication in intrigue, Roxala took Blade's remarks at face value. She was too prejudiced and vain to do otherwise. She gri

Blade looked sharply at Roxala. «Do you really want me to help Kleptor's dreams and schemes?»

Roxala laughed and shook her head. «No, I suppose when all is said and done, I don't. But I do know what I want you to do now, with me.»

They did it and afterward while Roxala went off to let her women bathe her, Blade lay in the bed and let out a long sigh of relief. That could have been a nasty one. The Zungans would have little enough chance against the Rulami army as it was. If their enemies knew and could meet the new fighting style their chances would shrink away almost to nothing. He would have done his best to get out of helping the Rulami, but it might have been hard to think up a good excuse if Roxala had insisted.

Blade's luck and quick wits kept him out of trouble for the rest of the two months, while he made love to the queen, practiced with his weapons, and sharpened his skills as a rider of the Ivory People. As long as Roxala was getting enough loving, she was willing to think of politics and war only at intervals, although she thought dangerously well at those times. If it came to the crunch, Roxala looked like she'd be a treacherous but probably competent ally. And from his experience, Blade much preferred treacherous allies to incompetent ones. The latter were totally unpredictable, most likely to open their mouths when they should keep them shut.