The lecture came to an abrupt end. A horseman appeared far down the beach, coming from the direction in which the patrol had disappeared and making for the fort on the promontory.
Pelops was instantly in despair. 'A messenger to the fort. They have found that I am missing. A message will be sent from the fort to Sarmacid and in a few hours the whole country will be looking for me. And you, sire.'
Blade was at the edge of the marsh and peering at the oncoming horse and rider. It was the girl with the golden hair.
He spoke over his shoulder. 'How will they send a message to this Sarmacid?'
Pelops crawled through the mud to join Blade. The little man was pale and shaking. 'There is a semaphore,' he quavered. 'Flags on a pole.' He pointed to the range of brown hills inland. 'There are such poles all the way to Sarmacid. The message will be picked up and passed on. It will be in Sarmacid by nightfall.'
Blade nodded, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He watched the horse come slowly down the beach, still half a mile off. The beast was tired and the girl was not forcing it. Blade made his decision. He had a half formed plan, still valid, but this new idea could do no harm - if he brought it off.
He turned to Pelops and spoke rapidly. The little man quailed. 'I - I don't know, sire, if I can do it. I am not a very brave man, as you must know by now.' And he made that curious sign of the T again.
Blade frowned at him and growled, 'Do what, man? I ask you to do nothing! Just that - you will lie on the beach and play dead. As though you have used all your strength in trying to reach the sea, and have expired just as you did reach it. Just play dead. I will do the rest. Hurry now - she can see you and so put on a good act. Stagger from the marsh and fall. Get up. Fall' again not too far from the marsh edge. I want no great distance, for I must take her by surprise.' He was remembering those slim white legs. She could probably run like an antelope.
Pelops forgot his fear in his horror at what Blade intended. It had just dawned on him.
'You would put hands on her? On the person of Zeena, daughter to Queen Pphira?'
'That,' said Blade grimly, 'is the general idea. I need a hostage. She will do as well as any.'
Pelops began to tremble again. He made the T. 'That is sacrilege, sire. Bek will swallow us alive. We will die in his fiery maw. I cannot - '
Blade clenched a great fist, then thought better of it. He was in Sarma now and Pelops could not help what he was. Blade folded his arms over his chest and stared down the beach at the horse and rider now only a quarter of a mile distant.
'I see now,' said Blade, 'why you were made a slave. It fits you, slavery. You were born to be a slave. And you will be a slave again, I can see that, too, because you are afraid of even a little risk So be it. I will try to do it alone. But I cannot catch a horse, even a tired one, and if she gets away and warns the fort we will be taken at once. I will not be taken because I will die fighting. But you - '
Tears glinted in Pelops' dark eyes. He dabbed at them with a finger and said. 'No! I will not be a slave again. I will do it.'
Blade gave him a little shove. 'Get on with it, then. And remember, die not too far from the marsh. Die well and convincingly and leave the rest to me.'
A strange little man, Blade thought as he watched Pelops stagger from the marsh. An odd mixture of cowardice and courage. Blade crouched at the very edge of the marsh and watched the girl approach on the tired horse. He cast a glance at the promontory, thankful that this strip of beach could not be seen from the fort. That would have been fatal.
The girl, Zeena, responded as Blade had guessed she would. At the sight of Pelops staggering and falling on the shingle she reined in the horse. She shaded her eyes and peered down the beach. Then, reassured that it was only the slave they were seeking, she dug her bare heels into the horse's sides and forced it into a weary gallop. Blade smiled grimly and waited.
Chapter Seven
Pelops played his part well. He lay so inert and lifeless that Blade wondered - had the little man chosen that moment to depart life?
The girl, her full breasts jouncing beneath the metal plates, did not so much as glance at the red-fringed marsh. She reined up beside the limp body of Pelops and stared down at it for a moment. She raised a graceful hand to push golden hair away from her eyes. She leaned down for a closer look. But she did not dismount.
Blade cursed silently. Get off the horse. Get down! He willed her to dismount. Otherwise it would be very chancy. He could not wait too long.
She slid sideways on the horse and reached with a long white leg, poked at Pelops with a tentative toe. Blade fretted. And got ready to do what he did not want to do, or even think he could do - run down the horse.
She was not going to dismount. Blade could not afford to let the horse get a start. He had no choice. He pushed himself from the reeds with a great bound, attaining full speed in three strides and running as silently as he could.
Blade gained a precious few seconds as the girl stared at him in shocked surprise - this naked brawny giant! Her eyes widened, her scarlet mouth was a frightened O, she gave one small scream of terror. Then she reined the horse around and dug her heels into it with a shout of command. The beast leaped away.
Blade had momentum. If he was to catch her at all it must be in the first few seconds. He put everything he had into it, oblivious of the jagged shingle ripping his bare feet.
He came even with her and grabbed one of her legs. She slashed him across the face with her crop, screaming now in fear and anger. His fingers slipped from the smooth flesh and she hit him again with the crop. The horse was getting into full stride. Blade grabbed again for her leg. She raised it and kicked him in the face. Blade stumbled, recovered, and put his last strength into clutching at the reins. He tugged. The reins broke.
She was cursing and whipping him now, her lovely face a mask of fury. Blade ignored the blows. He had a grip on the full mane of the horse and was running along with it stride for stride. But the horse was picking up speed.
Blade made a desperation move. He had never bulldogged a steer in his life, but he had seen it done, and if a man
