to end it in swift mercy. He thrust at Horsa's heart, missed, and with a backhand stroke he lopped off the man's right hand.
The hand, still gripping the bronze axe, fell into the flames. Horsa, wrapped in fire now, calmly bent and picked up the axe with his left hand. Blood spurted in a scarlet fountain from his severed right wrist. Horsa was hairless now, blackened all about his body, and the fire biting deeper into his flesh and bone with every moment. And still he fought on.
With a last great bellow of rage and defiance Horsa leaped from the fire and tried to grapple with Blade, seeking to enfold his victorious enemy in the flames that were consuming him.
Blade, sweating, cold, stricken and in a fever to have it over, held out the sword and let Horsa run on it. Horsa died, flinging the bronze axe at Blade in last defiance.
The mob, which had been in tumult, was again silent. Blade ignored the body. He could not mutilate so brave a foe, though Sylvo had told him it was the custom to cut off the testicles of a fallen adversary and burn them. Sometimes they were eaten by the winner, so that he might come by new courage and strength.
Blade picked up the bronze axe and brandished it over his head. He shouted. 'As victor I claim this axe. Aesculp it was called and Aesculp it shall remain. Horsa was a brave man and a mighty warrior. I also claim his cloak and with pride will I wear it.'
He picked up the heavy scarlet cloak and flung it around his big shoulders, securing the golden clasp. Then, regal in the firelight, he turned to face Lycanto and the entourage of nobles. Some smiled at him now, others were still sour. Lycanto himself fondled a beer horn and looked thoughtful.
Blade made his way through the flame circle, scattered by willing feet, and approached the throne. He saluted with the great axe. Now came a time of shrewd lies, cunningly told. He must create an image, build an edifice, that had no base in reality. By the time they realized they had been duped he must be far away, on the road to Voth, and with Princess Taleen at his side.
Sylvo had coached him well for this moment and Blade forgot nothing. He pressed his advantage.
'I have slain Horsa in fair and single combat. This is admitted?'
Lycanto nodded sulkily and stared into his beer horn.
The men around him fidgeted and whispered, some avoiding Blade's eye, and it was Cunobar who at last spoke up. But his glance was hard and there was disappointment in his tone, and Blade wondered again at the man's enmity.
'It is admitted,' said Cunobar the Gray.
Blade made a slight bow to the King. 'Then, by your law, I inherit all that was Horsa's. His house, his weapons, his livestock and wives and serfs, whatever may have been his property is now my property. This also is admitted?'
It was Lycanto who answered. 'It is admitted. But you think wrongly about wives— an Alb is permitted but one wife. And Horsa had none, so you are cheated there. But all else is yours— as in our law. But also in law you are vassal to me, and must fight when I bid, for me and around me, and all you hold comes of my favor. This is admitted by you?'
Blade bowed again, a bit lower this time. 'It is admitted by me, King. But I beg leave to speak of all these things another time. I am weary now, and I hunger and thirst greatly, and I want only to retire to my new home and rest. You grant this?'
As he spoke Blade searched the crowd for some sight of Sylvo. There should be none if the man was carrying out orders. At this moment he should be making arrangements at the stables.
No sign of Sylvo. They were taking the body of Horsa away, borne on a rude litter. No one, not even those who carried it, paid any attention to the charred and maimed body. Horsa was dead. Long live the victor. Grimly Blade conquered his nausea and put away all thought of the civilization he had known. He was in Alb.
Bowing a last time, with no servility at all, he swung the heavy axe to his shoulder and turned away. 'I have lost that rascal man of mine already. Doubtless he is too busy cutting purses to serve me. Will someone guide me to my new house?'
There was a titter among the nobles but no one came forth. Blade grinned and bantered at them. 'Must I seek it out for myself? There is a risk, and one I would not face. I might get into the wrong house and so have to fight again, and that I cannot do until tomorrow. I crave sleep.'
Again it was Cunobar who came to his aid. And again Blade wondered why.
'I will show you the way,' Cunobar said. 'And crave pardon for such lack of courtesy from my peers.' He smiled around coldly. 'They all wagered heavily on Horsa, and so are all poorer men now. It sours their dispositions. Follow me, Blade, and I will show you to your newly won house.'
They pushed through the moiling throng, with Cunobar leading and cuffing away the rabble seeking a closer view of Blade. Torches flared in the mist and Blade reckoned he still had several hours of darkness. He would need them.
He followed Cunobar into a narrow alley, deep with mud underfoot and stinking of dung and garbage.
Blade said: 'They all bet against me? How did you wager, Lord Cunobar?'
Cunobar glanced back and the smile was as false as if painted. 'I wagered on both of you. For the sport of it, not money. It is a thing that pleases me now and then. I cannot lose.'
Blade laughed curtly. 'That is true enough. Yet he that will not risk cannot win.'
Cunobar did not answer.
They passed a side street, as narrow and muddy as the one they trod. Nearby, fronting this street, was a large wooden house with many flaring torches hung near it. Blade nodded toward it and said, 'A place of consequence? Who lives there?'
'Lycanto's Queen, the Lady Alwyth. And all her women. I will warn you now, and you do well to heed.
Go not near that house. Certainly do not enter— this is forbidden by law and punished by death. Only Lycanto can
