'That is why Org let you take it,' said Honcho as they neared the top of the shaft 'When you go to Urcit the sword will go with you, to the Palace, and the sword is the symbol!'
Honcho turned Blade over to a squad of ceboid soldiers and was about to leave when Blade said: 'I would like a favor, Honcho.'
The neuter stared at him, impassive.
'I would see Zulekia again,' Blade continued. 'The Maiduke girl. In my chambers. This is possible?'
The green eyes narrowed, but a hint of a smile touched the thin lips. 'You have not had enough coi for a time? I would have thought so, Blade. Or perhaps Totha did not suit you? I find that hard to believe.'
Blade said nothing.
Honcho nodded. 'All right. But it must be brief. There is very little time now. We stayed too long in the Gorge. See herm, and as soon as you have finished I will send you to Urcit. Go. I will send the ceboids for you when I want you.'
In his chambers Blade bathed under the perfumed jets and donned fresh clothing. He combed his beard and admired it for a moment. Who would have guessed that he looked so well with a beard?
Org had given him a scabbard and baldric for the sword. The baldric was ancient and very rotten, and would have to be replaced, but for now it would serve. Blade admired the jewels that studded the hilt. There were twenty of them, set flush in the metal, and they glinted now in the pale Tharnian light. Diamonds, rubies, pearls and sapphires, and an oddly cut roseate stone that he did not recognize. In his other life they would have been worth a fortune, to the Pethcines they were only part of a symbol, and he had guessed that in Tharn jewels did not have much value.
He was still admiring them when the ceboids ushered Zulekia into the chamber.
Blade sensed at once that there was something different about the Maiduke girl. He could not be sure exactly what it was - she was dressed the same, her long red-bronze hair was still a glory, her gentian eyes as large - but the difference was there.
The ceboids bowed themselves out and Blade knew that the magveil was once again in place. Honcho no doubt would be watching on the spiscreens. He did not give it a thought. His heart lifted strangely as Zulekia walked toward him, unsmiling as ever, her lovely face impassive. Then, just before she reached him, something happened in her eyes. She blinked rapidly as though signaling alertness, and something moved in the violet depths. Warning? Entreaty?
Her eyes held his in a long stare as she stepped into his arms. 'Make kiss,' she said. 'I like it. I remember. Make kiss.'
Blade made kiss. She moved against him, pressing closer and closer. Her mouth, sweet and softly warm, slid from his and grazed his ear as she strained against him. She breathed the words, rather than whispered, as faint as a dying echo.
'When you make coi to me you must touch me deeply there! Very deeply.'
Blade waited, chills prickling up his spine. Zulekia had taken a deliberate chance. She knew as well as Blade, better, how sensitive the spiscreens were. Yet she had gambled. Why? More important at the moment - would they get away with it?
Nothing. Blade breathed again. And now her eyes warned him again. No more risks. He had understood. Or had he? He must touch her deeply there! He thought he understood...and yet?
Zulekia took his hand and led him toward the bed. Blade, who had thought himself drained and exhausted by Totha's constant importunities, now found that he raged like a stallion.
At the bed she turned and faced him. 'Make more kiss, my Lord.'
They kissed for a long time, until she trembled against him as his hands explored her body.
She said at last. 'I think I really understand kiss now.'
'That is good,' said Blade who was beginning to have a new understanding of it himself. Then he heard himself saying: 'Do you understand love, Zulekia?'
The great eyes widened. 'Love? It is not a Tharnian word. No, I do not understand it.'
'Perhaps,' he said gently, 'one day you will.' He tried to draw her down to the bed beside him, but for a moment she resisted.
'Honcho, the neuter who is He, has told me that you spoke for me. That you would have me saved. That my punishment shall not be as decreed. I am grateful to you, My lord. I make all slaveface.'
'This is not the time to speak of that,' he said fiercely. 'Come to me. I command!'
Blade began to caress and explore her body, remembering her words, probing deep into that moist sanctum. His fingers touched something tiny, hard, cylindrical, and then he really understood. But how to mask it from the spiscreens?
Zulekia had taken a great risk. So must he. Blade threw his huge bulk on her, blanketing her slim cool body with his own. He clutched the tiny cylinder in a fist now. Secure for the moment.
He could wait no longer. He entered her with a great thrust. Then...
Then nothing. He felt her flesh melt away in his arms. He was embracing a wraith, mist, a gauze image of Zulekia that was a perfect and lovely emptiness. SIMLU!
Blade lay prone on the bed, raging. The O of Zulekia still embraced him.
Honcho laughed in the chamber. 'I have kept my promise, Blade. I agreed to let you see the girl. Nothing else.'
Blade fought to control his temper. Tremors ravaged him and sweat stood out on his face and chest. He knew himself and his temper too well. Once he let it slip the leash he was like a madman.
