Jeffrey Lord Blade 21 Champion of the Gods

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It " The words ended in another scream and the chug of a Raufii sword hacking
flesh.
Blade whirled, in time to see a tall bareheaded Rauf charging at him whirling
a blood-dripping sword around his head. Blade had heard enough descriptions of
Dahrad Bin Saffar to recognize the man he faced. He gave a terrible shout.
Here was a miracle indeed! Dahrad Bin Saffar, chief and guiding genius of all
the Raufi, delivered into the hands of his enemies for the slaughter!
A moment later Blade wasn't quite sure who was going to be slaughtering whom.
Dahrad's sword whistled down at him. He had to jump back to avoid being split
down the middle before he could even draw his own sword. Blade drew the sword
with one hand and his second pistol with the other. He parried another
whistling slash as he raised the pistol. This wasn't the time or place for
meeting Dahrad
Bin Saffar chivalrously or gallantly, sword against sword. This was the time
and place for killing him.
Dahrad saw Blade's raised pistol and shifted his next slash. It missed Blade
entirely but smashed across the pistol's barrel with a tremendous clang.
Blade's arm flew up as his finger closed on the trigger.
The pistol went off with a crash, but the bullet whistled off harmlessly into
the darkness. Blade dropped the pistol and went to work with his sword.
Blade was taller than the chief of the Raufi and had a longer reach. But
Dahrad Bin Saffar was just as good a fighter and he was wielding a longer and
heavier sword.
After the first few slashes and parries Blade knew that he had a first-class
opponent on his hands.
Around him Raufi, Jade Masters, and the soldiers of Kano under Mirdon's
command were engaged in a wild, swirling, totally chaotic fight, without plan
or pattern. Blade heard muskets and pistols going off in ones and twos and
ragged volleys, the raspings and clangs of swords on armor, men shouting and
screaming. He hadn't heard the sound of the Eighth Gate going up, and that
could be either good or bad news. It was good that the Raufi hadn't taken the
towers and opened the gate. It was bad that Mirdon hadn't beaten back the
Raufi enough to open the gate himself and let the enemy's riders into the trap
prepared for them.
Dahrad's sword whistled over Blade's head close enough to scrape his helmet.
Blade got home a thrust of his own, but it didn't push through the coat of
fine mail Dahrad wore under his robe. It wouldn't matter whether the gate
opened or not if Dahrad Bin Saffar cut him in two first! Blade settled down to
concentrate grimly on the opponent at hand.
The duel went on as the two men stamped around and around each other, slashing
and thrusting, sparks flying as their swords met and sweat pouring off both of
them. Blade kept looking for something to give him an edge. He couldn't spend
all night fighting with the Raufi chief! But every time he thought he'd found
an opening, Dahrad was blocking him or fading out of reach. Fortunately, Blade
was able to do the same.
The duel went on, and Blade began to wonder if it would go on all night,
whether he could afford this or not. Dahrad Bin Saffar was striking harder and
faster now. It seemed that being able to hold on so well against Blade was
filling him with more confidence, more aggressiveness. His sword smashed down
against Blade's until each impact jarred Blade from head to foot and made his
sword vibrate like an iron rod hammered on by a blacksmith.
Dahrad launched an overhead slash, the strongest attack yet. Blade's sword
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leaped up to block it.
Dahrad's sword smashed down against Blade's, hard up against the crossbar of
the hilt. With a sharp metallic crannnng, Blade's sword broke off at the hilt.
Dahrad's furious slash sent his heavy sword whistling on down until its edge
sank deep into the ground. Blade dropped his useless sword hilt and closed in.
His booted foot came down on Dahrad's sword faster than the man could raise
it. For a moment the sword was immobilized. Blade pivoted and kicked out hard
with his other foot. Dahrad Bin Saffar sprang back, just in time to keep
Blade's foot from smashing his jaw to a ruin. As he sprang back, he let go of
his sword.
Blade swung down out of his pivot and snatched the fallen sword from the
ground. He swung it three times about his head, so fast that it hissed and
whistled. Then he charged in at Dahrad Bin Saffar. The
Rauf stood as if he had one foot caught in a trap. He seemed paralyzed by the
spectacle of his own sword coming at him in the hands of an enemy.
Blade swung the sword three more times. Dahrad Bin Saffar drew a dagger, but
the first swing of
Blade's sword knocked the dagger out of the man's hand and sent it flying. The
second swing chopped deeply into his thigh, and his lips curled back from his
white teeth in a defiant snarl. The third swing slashed clear through Dahrad's
neck, and his head flew ten feet and rolled along the ground. The spouting
body collapsed backward as Blade dashed to retrieve the head before any of
Dahrad's tribesmen could rescue it. When he picked it up by the beard, the
snarl was still frozen there on the lifeless face.
As Blade stood there, holding Dahrad Bin Saffar's head, he heard the rumble
and squeal of the gate opening. He whirled as someone shouted his name and saw
Mirdon running toward him.
"Champion! Champion! We have the edge on them, and I have ordered the gate
opened. We must get back into the tower, or " He broke off and stopped
abruptly as Blade held out his grisly trophy.
"Gods above!" exploded Mirdon. "Him!" He shook his head in a daze. "A second
miracle has come
indeed! You you killed him?"
Blade nodded. "I also killed Jormin, after he killed Katerina."
"Ka " began Mirdon, even more dazed and bewildered. Blade didn't wait for the
Commander to organize his thoughts. He tossed Dahrad's bleeding head to
Mirdon, saw him catch it, then turned and ran toward where Katerina's body
lay. He knew the kind of battle that would be sweeping through this area in a
few minutes. He didn't want to leave Katerina's body lying in the middle of
that battle, where it would be trampled and mangled.
As he reached Katerina, the roar of Raufi drums and the blare of their
trumpets sounded outside the walls. The two thousand mounted men were on their
way toward the open gate. Blade lifted the body in his arms and ran back the
way he'd come, toward the door of the stairs in the western tower of the
Eighth Gate. As he started to run, he heard the rumble of wheels and the
pounding of hooves from the direction of the Garden of Stam. The mobile
reserve was moving into position. The trap for the oncoming riders was being
set, and in a few minutes more it would be sprung.
Blade ran as he'd seldom run in his life, leaping over fallen weapons,
skirting fallen bodies. Most of the fallen lay still. Some were still writhing
feebly. He couldn't stop for any of them, friend or foe. He could only plunge
forward, arms locked tightly around Katerina, holding her body as tightly as
he'd ever held the live, warm, loving woman.
He plunged forward until the door gaped dark before him. Two of the soldiers
were still on guard with muskets held ready. They let him through, then dashed
in after him, slamming and barring the ironbound door behind them. Just as
the door cut off the outside world, Blade heard the swelling rumble of the
Raufi as they began moving in toward the wall.
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