only, to scout Urcit! We here know of this, in theory, but we have not yet perfected it Above all Honcho must not be underestimated.'
It was ridiculous and Blade knew it, but nevertheless he found himself glancing around the Sacred Chamber. 'Is there any chance...?'
Sutha shook his head. 'Not now. As soon as you told me it was recorded on magamp steps were taken. No. Honcho cannot send his mind into Urcit now.'
'But that is a giveaway in itself, Sutha. Honcho will know, or suspect, that I have told you everything.'
The old neuter held up a soothing hand. 'Perhaps not. We are always experimenting with various types of powers of magveils. Maybe he will attribute it to that And, when we are ready, we will let his mind through. Or, better yet, his simlu. When we are ready, not before.
'In the meantime, Blade, you must see that nothing can be done about Zulekia. If I save the girl and destroy Honcho too soon, I will lose the Pethcines. I cannot destroy them in the Gorge. If I shut off all power, here at the source, and I can do that, then I deprive Honcho of power but I also leave Urcit defenseless. The Pethcines can invade us and Honcho wins his end in any case. Must you have this one girl, Blade?'
Blade thought for a moment. Then: 'I must have her. Or, at least, I must save her. I will not have her destroyed, used by the ceboids and thrown into the Gorge. If she must die I would have it done in a more humane manner. She is not a ceboid or a...a...'
Sutha stared at Blade. The green eyes were cool, but without anger.
'Or a neuter?'
Blade cursed his blundering tongue, but he plunged ahead. 'All right. She is homid. Human. And I like her. And I pity her. That is another word you do not use in Tharn. I beg you, Sutha, do what you can!'
Sutha rubbed his nose with a long forefinger. 'There is still another word that we do not use. Very few know it. Only old ones like me, that read the mysteries that no one else ever reads or even knows exist. It is also a forbidden word and it is mentioned only once in all the mysteries. It is an odd word. Love. Does it mean anything to you, Blade?'
Something bade Blade shake his head and deny. 'No. I do not know the word.'
'As well, perhaps. The mysteries define it as something unwholesome. Weakening. Treacherous. A sin that causes much rot and trouble. It has always puzzled me.'
Blade put his hand on the jeweled hilt of the sword. Not in threat, but to emphasize the way he felt. 'So you will not help Zulekia? Very well. I must find a way to do it myself.'
'Before you even think of that,' said Sutha, 'listen to my real reason for refusing to try. The reason I brought you here so soon, to the Sacred of Sacreds, where we could not be overheard. The reason is Isma. The High Priestess!'
Blade nodded, getting the point at once. 'She would be displeased that I thought of another woman?'
Sutha leaned to pat the big man's shoulder. The expression on his face was a mingle of approval, exasperation, impatience and something else that Blade thought might just be a genuine liking for himself, dolt though Sutha obviously thought him.
Sutha cast a glance upward, as thought to call on a minor Tharnian God or two, and clasped his hands in resignation.
'You begin to see it, Blade. Isma! She is High Priestess and her authority is absolute. Even I cannot go against her. Astar is nothing. She, and her child's brain, do not count. I have, as a matter of fact, had great difficulty in restraining Isma from slaying Astar and ruling alone. She will do it yet. And I tell you something else about Isma: she has known coi, has committed karno many times with the Lordsmen. Only I know this, and Isma does not care that I know. But of all the times she has gone to the Cage, or had the Lordsmen sent to her, never once has she known coi as it is written it should be. Coi between a God and a Goddess!'
Blade was stubborn. He clung to a thought once it had lodged securely.
'You say that only you and Isma know of her actions, that she has coi? How can this be? The Lordsmen must know. The ones involved. Or are they in a trance?' And Blade laughed.
Sutha did not laugh, nor even smile.
'The Lordsmen involved are immediately put to death following the event, Blade. They are killed and a substitute brought in from the Breeding Grounds.
story is put out, for the People, or THEY if you choose, that there has been an accident.'
Blade's smile faded. 'I see.'
'Then see this: if Isma has one suspicion, any faintest inkling, that you are so much as thinking of this girl, this Maiduke Zulekia, then the girl is dead. You are dead. And very likely I am dead. About the girl I care nothing. About myself I care little. I am a very old neuter, I am entitled to a painless destruct, and my kronos have already been extended many times because I please Isma and serve her well. But you, Blade? I would have you live. I have hopes and plans that, but none of that now. Come. We must get you to your quarters. Isma will be impatient and there is much to do. You must make ready for the Ceremony of Ravishment.'
As they left the Sacred Chamber Blade glanced once again at the corpse of Astar I. He knew it was impossible, yet her smile seemed to have altered, to have become a little more mocking than it had been.
Then he forgot Astar I as he listened to Sutha explaining the Ceremony of Ravishment and what he must do. Blade was appalled.
Chapter Ten
The women were assembled. The People, as Sutha called them, and as Blade had come to think of them. They rustled and craned and chattered and filled the great amphitheater with their effluvia, with their laughter, and most of all, it was a palpable thing, with their expectations. The word had gone out. Mazda had come. Tharn could be saved. Snatched back from a slow, withering, agonizing death. The God had come, and from his loins would spring a new Tharn.
