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Horun watched the process with a continuous grin flickering across his thin face, openly amused at Blade's mounting annoyance. "Don't fight it, Blade. If you aren't looking your best, the queen may turn you down. And if she turns you down for her team, you can be damned sure she won't let anybody else grab you for theirs. You'll be on your way to the firestone mines before you can turn around. They say a man is lucky to live a year there-and usually wishes he could die after a single day." Horun ran on. Indicating the slaves scurrying around the chamber, he grinned. "Look at those poor bastards. Practically wetting their pants for fear you'll have one hair out of place or one bit of skin not oiled up sleek. They're right, too. Roxala'd have their backs striped if you did. You, boy!" He shouted at the nearest slave, who stopped as if he had run into a brick wall. "Turn around!" The slave turned his back toward Blade, who started counting the welts and scars criss-crossing it. He got up to fifty before another barked word from Horun sent the slave back to his business. Blade decided that it would be a pleasure to kill Horun, if the time ever came. Eventually the slaves finished their work. Blade was dressed in a tight-fitting loin-guard and given an empty sheath to hook over it. "There'll be a sword in that sheath soon enough," said Horun. Then, with a bawdy chuckle, he added, "And your other sword may be in another sheath even before that. Lucky man." Now a squad of soldiers tramped in, and Horun unlocked Blade's chains. The soldiers surrounded him with drawn swords, and he was marched out of the cellar. They went along a damp, twisting corridor, each section seeming gloomier than the last, for what seemed like hours. Finally their journey came to an end as they mounted a flight of stairs and Horun pushed open a massive door. Sunlight poured in, for a moment dazzling Blade's eyes. The soldiers paid no attention to his stumblings, but shoved him into the open. Slowly his eyes readjusted to the daylight, and he saw that he was standing in the center of another large courtyard-no, garden would be a better description. It was nearly as large as a football field. Where it was not covered with lush green grass manicured to almost billiard-table smoothness, white gravel walks led through rainbow-colored masses of flowers. Their scents filled the air, striking Blade hard enough to almost make his head swim. After the austere plains and the foul smells of his journey, such an overpowering mass of perfumes seemed unhealthy. He felt almost ill. "The queen's private garden," said Horun. "I wonder if you'll be the only thing on show today-no, I see somebody else coming." Out from the shadows of one of the porticos around the garden came a line of slaves. They were struggling with something immensely long and thick, done up in a version of the canvas sack that had carried Blade. Whatever it was, they were sweating with the effort of carrying it, and wide-eyed with fear. They kept on coming, until there were nearly two score of them. The thing they carried seemed to nearly sixty feet long. After the slaves came yet another squad of the ubiquitous soldiers, carrying a thick iron collar, a massive chain, and an iron post pointed at one end. By the time all this hardware was gathered together, Blade hardly needed to hear the explosive hiss that sounded from inside the bag to know what the slaves were carrying. Then Horun jabbed Blade sharply in the ribs and pointed up toward a second-story balcony half-screened by the tops of a quartet of small trees. A woman had stepped out onto the balcony, and even in the shadows she made an impressive sight. Tall-nearly six feet-with a great foaming mane of blue-black hair pouring down her back. She wore a golden gown that above the waist might have been sprayed on, so tightly did it cling to her luxuriantly curved figure. In her hair sparkled a thin tiara of rubies. "The queen?" whispered Blade. Page 60 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html "Yes. But don't pay any attention to her until the trumpeters blow. That's the sign that she's officially present. Until then we treat her as just part of the scenery. A very nice part of the scenery," added Horun. Blade kept his eyes fixed on the woman nonetheless. A moment later two men in yellow tunics and green tabards joined the queen on the balcony, each carrying [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |