Have I not pleasured you as never before? Do I not rule with you? Do I not value Tharn, and yearn to protect it, as much as you do? Would I do anything that is not for the ultimate good of Tharn? Ask yourself all those questions, Isma, and then see if you can still quarrel with me.'
Her stare was dark and unblinking. It gave nothing away, yet Blade knew she was thinking of the Pethcine men, of barbarian virility and novelty. He knew his Isma. He kept a careful eye on the squad of ceboids. They were armed only with teksin swords and he could kill them easily, but he did not want to do that. He needed, must have, unity in Urcit. Else he was already defeated.
Isma looked away. She went back to the chair and sat down again. Blade kept his face impassive and restrained a sigh of relief. It had been a narrow thing, but he had brought it off. At least for the time being. Zulekia's name had not been mentioned.
'I will listen,' said Isma haughtily. 'Explain exactly what it is that you intend to do, Lord Blade.'
Blade flicked a finger at the Second Neuter, who came forward. Then he took Isma's arm and led her to the railing of the terrace. Overhead more blue was showing now as the curdled melancholy twilight gave way to a solitary shaft of crimson silver. Blade took a deep breath. The air was different. There was a sun in Tharn!
The neuter was staring fearfully at the changing sky. It looked at Isma, then at Blade, and said: 'I have never seen this before. Not in all my kronos.'
'Get used to it,' said Blade.
He pointed to the flat, only slightly undulating land that lay in the direction of North Provo. Here, on the outskirts of Urcit, was a maze of ceboid hovels. Hundreds of them.
'We will level those shacks,' said Blade, 'and make barricades of them. Honcho and Org will come in from this direction, I am sure. Urcit has no walls and so it does not matter where they attack. They will take the most direct route into the city. You, Second Neuter, will give orders at once for those hovels to be torn down and made into a long barricade. We will mass our main force behind it.' He looked at Isma 'Your women were warriors once, I understand. They must be again. You will see to it, Isma, that they are all mustered out immediately. Fully armed.'
Blade pointed. 'Assembly point will be there, in the Square of the Great Phallus. You will do this now, Isma.'
Her smile was faint, and lacking the mockery he had expected. She seemed perfectly serious. 'Yes, Lord Blade. But how shall I summon them? There is no power.'
Blade laughed and pointed down to his sandaled feet. 'There is power. Foot power. Have the Third Neuter form a group of runners. You will have to set up a message center in liaison with my command post here. I make you Commander of the People, Isma. Of all the homid women. You are second only to me, and will obey only my orders. That is understood?'
Her dark eyes narrowed at him, but she said only: 'That is understood, Lord Blade. I go to obey.' The obedience was only in the words, not in her tone or her look.
Blade turned to the Second Neuter. 'Sutha, your King, has bidden that you obey me absolutely. He, Sutha, will not be in this battle. He has a special and very difficult task and must do it alone. So you are in command of all neuters...under me, of course. You understand this?'
The Second Neuter was of middle kronos. He wore a chain of small teksin diamonds over his tunic. He made a slight slaveface and said, 'Yes, Lord Blade. What do you require of me?'
'It is simple enough. I require a roster of all your neuters, of all ranks and grades. You will form them into an army. They are going to have to fight.'
'Fight, Lord Blade?' The Second Neuter looked startled. 'Neuters cannot fight! We, none of us, have ever been trained for fighting. I am afraid that we will be of no use to you, my Lord Blade.'
Blade stared at the neuter grimly. 'Then I will use you for cannon fodder. If you cannot fight at least you will make good targets for Pethcine arrows.'
'Cannon fodder, my Lord Blade? I do not understand the term.'
'You will,' said Blade. 'You will. Go and gather all neuters together. Assemble them in the square before the neuter dormitories.'
The Second Neuter was leaving as Blade called him back. 'One moment. Who commands the ceboids?' He gestured to where the squad of ceboid soldiers waited near the stairs.
'We command them, my Lord Blade. The neuters. The lowest order of neuters, of course. I have never had anything to do with the ceboids myself, naturally.'
Blade pointed to a chair. 'Sit, Second Neuter.' The neuter obeyed. Blade stoked his beard.
'You say neuters cannot fight. What of the ceboids - will they fight?'
'They will obey, Lord Blade. That is the only function of a ceboid, to obey.'
Blade remembered something Sutha had told him. 'Yet I have heard that there is always danger of revolt among them. Is this true?'
The smooth impassive face of the Second Neuter twitched. The long green eyes narrowed. 'That is only the opinion of an old...' The words ceased abruptly. The neuter made slaveface. 'I am sorry, Lord Blade. It is not my place...'
Blade held up a hand. 'Enough. I am not interested in your opinion of Sutha. Just answer my questions.' He sighed inwardly. He had enough trouble without a power struggle among the neuters.
The Second Neuter thought a moment, then said: 'The ceboids will fight. As well as their intelligence permits, and if they are whipped enough. That is the secret with ceboids, my Lord, whipping. And a public execution every now and then. It is all they understand.'
Blade studied the creatures waiting near the stair. These were soldier-ceboids and they all had tails. Their origin still baffled Blade. He watched now as they chittered among themselves in their coarse, guttural language. Every now and then one of the long dog-baboon heads swiveled in his direction. Blade knew they were watching and listening. How much did they understand?
