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«All right, Shangbari,» Sparra said. «This is an Oltec rifle. Remember, it shoots burning hot light, not single bullets. You must take your finger off the trigger the moment you hit the target. Otherwise the rifle will lose its magic too quickly.»
«I understand.» He'd begun to understand more than he wanted to admit to this woman or even to Voros. Among the things he'd begun to understand was that there was no magic in Oltec. If you had the right tools and knew how to use them, it was no harder to make one of the «magic» rifles than it was to tan a hide or sharpen a spear.
Someday the Tribes would have those tools and know how to make their own rifles. Then they could avenge their dead on all the Cities. But-if there were people in the Cities like Voros and Sparra-yes, and Bekror-might there not be peace someday between Tribe and City?
That thought was so new and frightening that Shangbari had to grip his rifle more tightly than ever. He did not want Sparra to see his hands shaking, or miss his target.
He was ready to shoot again, when suddenly a City sky-machine passed over the clearing. A moment later if floated down to a landing place on the other side of the little stream which divided the clearing. All the men practicing with the rifles jumped up and shouted. Sparra was shouting, too. She seemed angry that the men would not listen to her. Then she saw Voros himself walking toward the machine, and shrugged.
«All right. It's pretty late anyway.»
By the time Shangbari reached the machine, the City men in it were unloading boxes. Voros counted them as they came out. Shangbari recognized the writing on some of the boxes. They held the «explosives» which they would use to destroy the Doimari machines.
Now a big man in City clothing stepped out of the sky-machine. «Hoy, Voros!» he shouted.
Voros turned. «What the-? Ezarn?»
«Have you ever met anybody else as big and smelly, old friend?» He stepped up to Voros and gripped him by both shoulders. «How's the work here, Voros? Got enough to give me some?»
«You can stay?»
«If you'll have me.»
«Will I have you? Does rain fall down, or smoke rise? Come and have a beer. It's the Tribal brew, I'm afraid, but-«
«Won't need to drink that tonight, Voros. I came with a barrel of my own from Bekror's.»
«Even better.»
The two big men walked off side by side. Shangbari wondered who the new man, Ezarn, was. Obviously a City warrior, and he looked like a good one who would make the attack on the Doimari much stronger. He'd also greeted Voros as though they were sworn brothers or at least old battle-mates.
Then why did Voros look and speak as though he did not understand Ezarn's coming, or even feared it?
Outside the hut it was dark. Blade piled more wood on the fire and rolled the empty beer barrel out of the way. Sparra was already asleep under the furs in the corner. Cheeky was curling up in the crook of her arm, not only asleep but snoring.
«So, old friend,» said Blade. «What really brought you out here-besides Bekror's lifter, that is?»
Ezarn had either drunk enough to slow his thoughts, which weren't too fast to begin with, or else he was, picking his words with care. «When I got back from leave, they asked me to come out here. Well, they really asked me if I'd go out to Bekror's, to help train his men. I'd get regular pay, and maybe more than that from Bekror.»
«Who asked?»
«The High Commander Sidas.»
«He asked, not ordered?»
«Couldn't say. But then, you know him. Could you tell if he was being nice or giving an order?» Ezarn had a point there. So why was Blade thinking that «couldn't say» might have a double meaning?
«I couldn't refuse,» Ezarn went on. He hiccupped. «So I came out, and Bekror tells me about you and the friendly Tribesmen. Are their women friendly, too? You've got your own, I see,» he said with a wave at Sparra.
«If you're a friend of Voros and observe their customs-yes, the women are friendly enough.»
«Good. Real good.» Ezarn cocked his head on one side, as if he was thinking hard. His head stayed at that angle, then Blade heard a long rumbling snore. The beer had finally got to him.
Blade got up and arranged Ezarn so he could sleep comfortably in the chair. Then he barred the hut door, pulled off his clothes and crawled in under the furs beside Sparra. She murmured contentedly as she felt him beside her, and pressed one firm breast against his arm. Cheeky went right on sleeping-but then, he could sleep through an earthquake if he wanted to.
Blade's feeling that somebody he didn't know was taking a hand in the game was stronger than ever. Or maybe several somebodies? It was no worse than usual in the secret-operations business, but that didn't mean he had to like it!
Ezarn's coming out here was a good sign, though. Nobody who knew much about the big soldier would send him on any mission dangerous to «Voros.» Anybody, who didn't knew Ezarn's loyalty was too stupid to be very dangerous, whatever they wanted.
Chapter 22
Baliza wondered why High Commander Sidas had invited her and Geyrna to his house outside Kaldak. Didn't he trust the people in his office anymore? At least it got her and her aunt a good di
In his private chamber afterward, Sidas served sweet wine and dismissed the servants. Then he locked the door after them. When he turned back to his guests, his face was suddenly much harder. Baliza was now almost certain that he disapproved of their plan-which they had told him about earlier at his headquarters-to send Doimari lifters to Voros. Sidas probably invited them to his house to tell them so. He probably also had some other things to discuss, and Baliza feared it had something to do with Voros.
Then Sidas sat down on the corner of the great wooden table by the wall, one booted leg crossed over the other. «So you want me to send Voros two or three of our Doimari lifters, do you? Why?»
His sharp tone stung Baliza. «We've already explained why.»
«Tell me again.»
«Very well, then. The three Doimari lifters can take twice as many men and guns as Bekror's two. Voros will have a stronger force, and he can fly it right into the base. With surprise on his side, he'll do more damage, then get more of his men out again.»
«Maybe. You have a lot of faith in Voros.»
«Yes. Don't you?»
«Not that much. I would believe the Sky Master Blade could do something like this. Not Voros, a man from nowhere. He's a good soldier, I'll admit. Maybe one of our best, and I don't really doubt his loyalty, even if he did desert after the rape charge. But I don't think he's good enough to do this, and with Tribesmen.»
Sidas's eyes were like stones now as he lit a cigar and offered them to the women. Geyrna took one. Baliza refused. She was afraid her hands would shake if she reached for it. Sidas puffed quietly for a minute or so, then stabbed at Baliza with the cigar.
«I'll give Voros the lifters, under one condition. You tell me the truth. Who do you think he really is?»
For a moment Baliza thought she was going to be sick. Then the nausea passed and relief took its place. The question she'd feared for so long had been asked, and she was still alive.
«I think Voros is my father, the Sky Master Blade, returned to Kaldak. I do not know how he did this, but I think he has.»
«Never mind how he got back here-at least for now,» Sidas added. «Tell me how you decided he was-who he is.» Baliza was glad to notice the hesitation in Sidas's voice. The idea of the Sky Master Blade among them again had slightly shaken even the iron-nerved High Commander.
So Baliza told Sidas and Geyrna everything she'd learned or thought about the man who called himself Voros. She kept her voice clear and steady, even through the tale of the night she'd tried to seduce him, although she felt her face turning red. Sidas was obviously trying not to laugh, but only said, «I always thought that warm blood of yours would get you into trouble one of these days. Well, better to be the way you are and your mother was, then cold and alone.» Then he was silent until she'd finished, when he handed her another glass of wine. She emptied it quickly.