Getorix remained standing. Blade did not bow. Their stares locked and held and in that moment, with no words spoken, each knew the truth of it. Craghead could not harbor them both.
Redbeard's eyes were small and as frosty hard as blue agates. He dawdled with a ribbon as he looked Blade up and down, and when he spoke his voice was harsh, though low in pitch.
'You quarrel with Jarl, stranger?'
Blade, hands on hips and with narrowed eyes, stared back at the huge man. 'Not so, Redbeard. My quarrel is with you.'
A sound of indrawn breath ran like a wind through the silent hall.
Redbeard nodded and toyed with his plaited beard. 'So? And why is this, stranger? I think you have been well enough treated.'
Blade, his mind racing, began to worry. Would Redbeard, realizing how he had been manipulated into this confrontation, temporize and somehow wriggle out of a quarrel here and now? And settle matters later, in private, when Blade would not have even the slim chance he had now?
To forestall this Blade crossed his Rubicon a little prematurely. He had intended to build this scene, to lead the man, and himself, into the ultimate confrontation by degrees. This he now discarded.
With no trace of sneer, with only a hint of arrogance that these freebooters would understand, Blade said: 'I have been well enough treated. I thank you for that. But it is not enough! I am no underling. I am a prince of London, as I have told you. I am a leader and I must therefore lead.'
Blade halted just long enough, then pointed at the throne that had been Beata's. 'You sit there now, Redbeard. I would sit there. I do not think it large enough for two.'
The small blue eyes blinked at him. The bigger man toyed with the ribbons in his beard. Then he smiled, a cruel smile that disclosed a few blackened teeth.
'You are a warrior, stranger. I have seen that with my own eyes. And for now— until your death— I will acknowledge you a prince of this London you quote me. Perhaps you are a prince— Thunor knows you speak boldly enough to be one. And you come to the point quickly, a thing I like. I am a simple man who cannot even rune. I have Jarl to do that for me, as I also have Jarl to fight for me, and he is a great warrior also. The best and bravest— even though his manner be sometimes clerkish.'
'I have challenged you,' said Blade. 'Not Jarl.'
Getorix had hands like the paws of the bears Blade had slain. He pawed again at his ribbons. He was stalling now, and enjoying himself, and Blade wondered at it. And felt sudden unease. Jarl had said it— there was something here he did not understand.
Redbeard was in no hurry. He gave Blade an icy look. 'I have hanged the whore queen in a cage, naked to the weather. She will suffer many days before she dies. How is it that you do not fear the same fate? I am still ruler here.'
Blade's reply was loud and clear, ringing like a trumpet call over the fascinated assembly.
'Because if you do that to me, Redbeard, you would not be ruler long. You will proclaim yourself coward and afraid of me. I have challenged you openly and fairly, by virtue of my claim to warrior status. You yourself have given me this. I do not know all your laws, but I will wager the same life I pit against yours that there is a common law saying you must meet any fair challenge to your rule.'
There was a stir and a great sighing among the onlookers. Blade knew he had won that point.
Now, adding insult to injury, and with a cunning he had not known he possessed, he produced the single black pearl from his tunic. He held it up between thumb and forefinger for all to see. It was the largest of the pearls, nearly the size of a pigeon's egg, and it glimmered in the smoky light like some demon's tear.
Blade altered his voice so the sneer was unmistakable, keeping his face impassive. 'I have heard that you and your people set great store by these trinkets, Redbeard. I have more. If, as I begin to believe, you are afraid to fight me— perhaps you will sell me your men and your kingship.'
That was too much. A great roar went up from the hall, though Redbeard himself kept silent and watched Blade with malevolent small eyes. And smiled through the fiery beard like a man who knows he cannot lose.
The men were shouting now.
'Kill him, Redbeard!'
'Enough of this— show us his heart and liver!'
'He has right to challenge— so grant him what he seeks. Death!'
Getorix let them rant for a minute, then held up a hand for silence. When the hall was quiet again he leaned to whisper an order to an aide. The man departed swiftly, sneering at Blade as he passed.
Redbeard pointed a huge finger at Blade. 'You have spoken, Prince of London, and I have listened in patience. Now hear me.
'It is I who must thank you— for you have made a difficult matter very simple. There is a woman— the Princess Taleen. She is the daughter of Voth of the North, a thing I know to be true, and she says that she is betrothed to you. That you are to marry when she is returned to Voth. This is true?'
Damn the girl! Yet this was no time to ponder her motives. As he had bid Taleen and Sylvo follow his lead, and play up to his lies, so now he must do the same. Blade nodded.
'That is true. We are to be married. What has that to do with our quarrel?' He held up the black pearl. 'You evade me, Redbeard. Do you fight me— or will you sell out to me?'
Redbeard reached and took the black pearl from Blade's fingers. He examined it for a moment, then flung it into the crowd. There was a furious scramble and a dirk or two flashed.
'That for your pearl,' said Redbeard. 'I like not black pearls. It is a white pearl I covet, the Princess Taleen. But as you have said just now— we have our laws. As to women they are very strict. If you are indeed betrothed to the princess I cannot take her— other than over your corpse! She is a fair prize, Prince of London, and when I kill you
