"So we must do three things. We must find out more about the Looter machines, and their strengths and weaknesses. For that we must use the machine I captured, until its power is gone.

"Then we must train the best fighters of the people how to attack the Looter machines-and live to do it again and again. We must train many of them, and quickly, for the Looters are strong and they are on the march.

"Then I will lead forth the trained fighters against the machines of the Looters, and destroy them."

He had half-expected applause, but instead met dead silence. Everyone seemed to be looking from him to his son and back again. Finally the king spoke.

"Mazda-father. Is-do you-must you lead our fighters against the Looters?"

"I will not send any fighter of the people where I am not willing to go myself," said Blade quietly. "That is not my way-not Mazda's way." Time to put that awe to some use!

King Rikard bowed his head. This time it was he who intoned "Mazda has spoken."

The first thing to do was find out if the purple ray could be harmless to human beings, and if so, under what conditions. Anyara volunteered to play guinea pig for this test before Blade could say a word.

As Anyara herself explained it to King Rikard: "I am old. I have borne my share of children to the people. I have done all the work I had to do. If I die, the people will have lost little. If I live, we will have gained useful knowledge. If one as old as I survives the ray, then the younger and stronger fighters that Mazda will lead forth should be even safer."

As reluctant as he was to risk Anyara, King Rikard had to admit her logic.

So one morning Blade, his son, and an odd a.s.sortment of others marched out of the city. There was Anyara, Krimon, a.s.sorted other neuters to watch what happened, and a dozen or so experienced fighters to keep away spectators. It was a warm morning, with a gentle breeze from the west.

The machine was sitting on the gra.s.s where Blade had parked it after moving it out of the city. It was now covered with hides and dyed cloths, so that from a distance it looked like a large tent.

Blade found it hard to keep his eyes from straying to the eastern horizon, half-expecting a dozen Looter machines to come racing across the plain in search of their vanished companion. Were the Looters so careless or so rich in machines that they didn't care what happened to this one? That was hard to believe. They had certainly done their best to destroy it before it fled out of range.

They-or their other machines. Blade shook his head. He wondered more and more if the Looters had come themselves, whoever they were. Or had they just sent their machines? If just the machines were roaming about in Tharn, that could explain why there had been no pursuit. The programming of the machines' computers could be too rigid to permit that.

Blade climbed into the machine and punched the screen controls and power switch. The screens flickered into life. The machine still had power, hopefully enough for all it still had to do. Fortunately it would not be taking any more long trips.

Anyara appeared on the forward screen, striding vigorously out across the plain. She was pulling off her tunic as she walked. The plan called for her to start the test naked. Then bit by bit she would add gear-all of it once living-until she was either dead or fully-equipped for war. Which would come first?

Anyara stopped fifty yards away and stripped off her trousers. She raised her arms in signal to Blade, the sunlight gleaming on her bare body. It was a body that still had a good deal of its former grace and beauty, in spite of childbearing and hard living.

Anyara signaled more vigorously. She was obviously getting impatient. Blade sighted in the ray, then hesitated for a moment. Logic told him that Anyara would be standing there, proud and impatient, after the purple ray struck her. Instinct kept telling him that she would be lying stiff and dead on the plain. With her would lie most of Tharn's hopes for fighting off the Looters.

Delaying matters made no sense at all. Blade leaned forward, pressing the firing b.u.t.ton as he did so.

Flash! Purple fire lanced out across the plain, and the glare surrounded Blade. A line of purple darted from the ray-tube to Anyara, enveloped her-and left her standing as though it had been no more than a puff of wind.

Through the open hatch, Blade could hear the cheers.

Someone threw Anyara a leather belt with a leather pouch attached to it. She put it on, and Blade fired again. Once again she stood tall and proud, her graying hair streaming out behind her.

Tools now-hammers and wedges, made of bone and wood and teksin. Anyara put them on, and was still standing after another dose of the ray.

Leather boots, leather bottles, leather trousers, a leather tunic. Then teksin-a teksin helmet, teksin armor, teksin knives. Anyara piled on piece after piece, the purple ray leaped out at her time after time, and each time she stood unharmed and waving defiance to the Looters' purple death.

By the time the test was over, Anyara was staggering. But this was from the weight of the equipment she was carrying, not from the effects of the ray. When Blade finally cut off the power in the machine, the last thing he saw on the screen was Anyara beginning to strip down again.

She was down to trousers and helmet by the time Blade climbed out of the machine and stood on the gra.s.s. He was grinning from ear to ear and felt like cheering. His guess had been right! He had discovered the key to making the fighters of the people immune to the Looters' deadliest weapon.

Anyara dashed up to Blade, grabbed him by the shoulders, kissed him wildly, danced about him like a young girl. On either side he could hear the neuters and the fighters cheering again, louder and longer than ever before.

Gently Blade pulled himself free from Anyara's embraces and turned to face the others. They were crowding toward him, joy and worship shining from their faces.

Blade raised his hands for silence.

"We have learned the first part of what we must know to fight the Looters. We have learned how to keep their machines from destroying us. Now we must learn more how to destroy them!"

"It shall be done, Mazda," said Krimon. "This day and for all the days to come until our victory, all the people stand behind Mazda. We will go where he sends us, do as he bids us, speak or be silent as he wishes us."

Blade nodded, but he was not so happy now. To come to a people who saw you as all but a G.o.d meant you had no problem being accepted or obeyed.

But you did have a problem of living up to what they expected of you.

Chapter 15.

A month of hard work followed.

Blade began to train ninety picked fighters in his methods for attacking Looter machines. Much of the training was guesswork, and would be guesswork until it was tested in combat. This bothered Blade.

It didn't bother the people. They would follow wherever Mazda led, sure that Mazda could and would lead them only to victory.

Blade wished he could be that confident. Pretending that he was soon became one of the hardest parts of his job.

None of it was easy. Day in and day out, he spent twelve and fourteen hours a day in grinding training. He ended each day sweat-soaked, dry-throated, dust-covered, all his muscles aching. But then he would have to face a council meeting, and finally take a woman determined to have Mazda's seed in her.

That normally would have been a very pleasant part of his duties. But now more often than not a woman was the last thing Blade wanted to face at the end of the day.

Fortunately Blade had the capacity of at least three ordinary men when it came to s.e.x. Otherwise there would have been a good many disappointed women among the people, and rumors running about that Mazda was not all that a man should be!

The machine's power lasted nearly a month. By the time it became immobile, it had given up nearly all the secrets Blade felt he needed to know. Meanwhile the building of teksin weapons and armor, research into explosives, and a dozen other projects went forward at top speed.

A week after that Blade rode east with an expedition fifty strong. Besides himself there was Anyara and eight fighting teams of six. The other forty trained fighters stayed behind, to start the training of more of their comrades. "In time a thousand or more of the people will know how to fight the machines of the Looters. In every town and village, on every farm, in each band of herdsmen, there will be some. Against such numbers the Looters cannot win."

"They may kill many of us," said King Rikard soberly, concerned for his people.

"True. But those who die will make sure that the people live." Blade did not mention his reason for saying this more confidently than before. He was more and more certain that the Looter command system must be incredibly c.u.mbersome, inflexible, unable to adapt rapidly to meet new threats.

In war, that was a sure road to defeat.

Nearly two months had gone by since he captured the machine. Surely a command with any sort of normal wits about it would have done something to search out the missing war machine! But the eastern horizon remained bare of any signs of Looters.

Now, however, they would be riding out toward that horizon. For the first time in two years the fighters of the people would ride out, hoping to see the machines of the Looters ahead of them.

Each of the fifty rode his own horse. Along with them went a string of baggage animals, carrying extra food and weapons. Some also carried the few pieces of metal the expedition needed-cooking pots, arrowheads, and the like. If they met the Looters, those animals would be cut loose and driven away. Otherwise not a man, woman, or animal of the expedition carried anything that had not once been living. There were a good many grumbles and growls of "A little bit won't hurt," but Blade was taking no chances.

They rode toward the city of Miros. The councilors and experienced fighters and neuters suggested it might be the Looters' next target. Certainly the Looters would most likely be seeking new prey by now. Even if Miros was not yet under attack, it was better and wiser to go there than to ride up and down and back and forth across the endless plains, hoping by chance to meet the Looters.

Eight days' travel brought them to Miros. It had been a small city, a tenth the size of vanished Urcit. It stood on a low rise of ground, looking down on a shallow lake surrounded with bushes almost the height of trees.

Blade walked along the white gravel beach on the side of the lake nearest the city. Anyara walked beside him. Behind them they heard cheerful shouts and playful splashings as half the fighters stripped and plunged into the lake. The other half remained on guard by the horses or in a mounted scouting line thrown out toward the east. That was another strict rule Blade had laid down-half the force on the alert at all times by day, a third of it on guard by night.

Anyara looked up at the city above them and shivered.

"I feel as though the ghosts of all of the people who lived in that city are up there, watching us and judging us."

Blade could see that she was genuinely on edge. "What do they think of us, I wonder?"

"You-you are something apart from the rest of us, for you are Mazda. But the rest of us-I don't know. They may wonder who these horse barbarians are. Surely not their descendants! We came so far, to build that city and the others like it, and then it all faded away when the men were driven out."

"They have come back now," said Blade gently. "And none of the people will ever make that mistake again."

Anyara shuddered. "No, by all that we believe in and hope for!" She laughed. "No doubt we shall make every other mistake a people can make, twice or three times over. But that one we shall never make again."

Blade was about to suggest that they also get into the water, when a shout from behind froze the words in his throat. He turned, to see one of the scouts come galloping toward the lake. The young woman took her horse over the bushes like a steeplechase rider, then came plunging down the bank. As she rode, she waved an arm and shouted. She reached the beach, and Blade made out what she was shouting.

"Looters! Looters come! Four war machines! They are coming!"

Chapter 16.

Anyara grabbed Blade's arm.

"Now we see how well we have learned." Her voice was steady but her face was grim and set. She brushed her hair back from her eyes, then turned and dashed toward the rest of the expedition.

The people who had been in the lake were already scrambling out of the water. Some did not even bother to dress, s.n.a.t.c.hing up only their boots and weapons and dashing naked toward their horses. Those who had been guarding the horses were already mounting up. Some of them were already driving the baggage animals with the metal in the packs out across the plain. Several more of the scouts rode in, all shouting the same thing as the first woman.

Blade and Anyara scrambled up the bank, tearing skins and clothes on the thornier bushes. Blade could see no smiles or any signs of fear on any of the faces, only intense concentration.

By the time Blade and Anyara saddled up, the scouts had reported two more Looter machines. That made a total of six war machines. To Anyara and the others within earshot, Blade called out, "Good. The more we find, the more damage we can do at one blow."

Privately he was less confident. Six machines at once might mean that someone among the Looters was expecting trouble. The machines might have been reprogrammed to coordinate their actions better or take more notice of what was happening around them. The purple ray should be harmless. But against the subsonics the only defense was not letting the fear they inspired overwhelm you. Against the tentacles the only defense was not letting them grab you. Blade had done his best with the training of the people's fighters. All he could do now was to hope that his best had been good enough, and fill in as many gaps as he could.

Blade spurred his horse to a trot and headed out toward the scouting line. Anyara followed him.

The scouting line was pulling back, following their orders. Blade could now see the six Looter machines out on the plain. They were coming along slowly, about as fast as a galloping horse. They were spread out in a single line a hundred yards or so apart.

Blade drew his signal baton out of its sling on his saddle. It was a telescoping wooden pole with a great bushy tuft of yellow-dyed feathers on top. He shook it out to its full eight feet and raised it high. Then he waved it to his right, drew it sharply downward, and swung it from side to side.

That signal meant, "Everybody move over to the right, spread out, then stop."

Trying to catch the machines on the run would soon exhaust the horses. Let the machines come to them, then strike!

If the machines noticed Blade's signals, there was no sign of it. But the riders of the people did. The scouts pulled their horses around in wide circles and headed in the direction Blade indicated. The rest fell in behind and on either side of him and Anyara. Blade slowed to a trot to spare the horses and the formation eddied and swirled as the other riders did the same.

In minutes they reached the position Blade indicated. He reined in his horse and hurled the baton downward. The b.u.t.t, tipped with sharpened teksin, sank into the hard earth and the feathers bobbed wildly. On either side Blade saw the others rein in, spreading out to form a line stretching two hundred yards from end to end, parallel to the path of the Looter machines.

The machines paid no more attention to the hors.e.m.e.n than if they had been so many tufts of down blowing in the breeze. All six advanced as steadily as if they had been running on rails. The nearest one pa.s.sed down the front of the hors.e.m.e.n less than a hundred yards away.

Blade felt forty-nine sets of eyes flicking from the machine to him and back again. He could almost smell the desire to plunge forward in a mad charge against the enemy. But he shook his head and jerked his thumb down toward the ground. He heard murmurs of disappointment and even Anyara's face fell. But Mazda had made his decision, and the fighters of the people would obey.

The machines glided away toward the lake, still in their unbroken line. They reached the nearer sh.o.r.e of the lake, then their line split apart in the middle. Three machines moved around each side of the lake, shifting into a single line as they did so.

Blade reached out of the saddle, jerked the baton free of the ground, and waved it three times toward the lake. It was time to move out on the trail.

The machines reached the foot of the hill where Miros stood about the time the riders reached the nearer edge of the lake. Blade ordered a halt and watched the machines. Each trio was shifting into a triangle less than a hundred yards on a side. They were also slowing down. A moment later their legs sprang out and all six of them settled down on the ground.

Blade could hardly keep from cheering out loud as he saw the way the machines had arranged themselves. The two triangles stood, one on each end of the hill and the city, a good mile or more apart. Each was well-placed to scan its surroundings in all directions, but not to support the other one. They were too far apart. Two machines of each triangle were also fairly close to the bushes around the lake. The people's final attack could go in on foot, under cover. There would be no need to take horses within range of the subsonics.

Blade signaled for the team leaders to gather around him and then dismounted. Each fighter unslung his pack of combat gear from his saddle, then drifted over to join the circle a.s.sembling around Blade. With the point of his teksin sword Blade drew his plan on a bare patch of ground. When he had finished giving his orders, he straightened up and looked soberly at the even soberer faces around him. "This is our moment, our moment to stand up to the Looters and prove that the people can defend themselves against all enemies. The eyes of all the people are on us, not just the living but all those who have died that the people might live to this moment.

"We shall not let them down."

Blade shrugged his shoulders to settle his pack into a more comfortable position on his back, raised his baton, and led the way toward the sh.o.r.e of the lake.

The bushes were thick and th.o.r.n.y. The fighters creeping through them made enough noise to be heard a mile away by anyone not totally deaf. Fortunately the machines seemed to be just exactly that.

As they slipped within range of the subsonics, Blade noticed apprehensive or grim looks spreading across the faces of the fighters. Was their new knowledge, the loss of the fear of the unknown, going to be enough of a defense? For a minute or two Blade couldn't help wondering. Then slowly the faces straightened and the eighteen men and women moved on steadily.

The fighters in Blade's teams were scratched and sweating by the time they settled under cover. Then came a hot, nerve-wracking wait in the gra.s.s and under the shrubbery. They had to allow Anyara's teams plenty of time to get into their positions on the other side of the lake. Both attacks had to go in as nearly as possible at the same moment.

So they waited, impatiently whittling at twigs with their teksin knives, slapping at the insects that whined maddeningly around eyes and into ears, wiping off the sweat that trickled down foreheads and necks. The sun moved higher until it burned down almost straight out of a cloudless sky, baking the earth and filling the day with a sleepy warmth.

Hot, sweaty, insect-ridden minutes followed each other, one by one, until Blade knew that at least half an hour must have gone by. Had something happened to the other teams? Had they been ambushed and destroyed, silently and swiftly. They might have- A woman lying next to Blade grabbed his arm and pointed off to the right. Blade's eyes followed the woman's pointing finger. Through a gap between two branches Blade saw an orange handkerchief waving on the other side of the lake. It was the signal "ready and waiting" from Anyara's teams.

Blade took a deep breath. He reached into his pack and took out a bag of teksin wedges and a hammer with a teksin head and a wooden shaft. He tied these to his belt. He saw flickers of movement in the bushes all along the line of fighters, as each one of them got out his particular equipment and hung it on his belt.

Then Blade reached into his pack once more, and pulled out a teksin whistle with a gilded leather thong. He looped the thong about his sunburnt neck, put the whistle between his lips, took another deep breath-and blew with all the power in his lungs.

Bushes exploded with cracklings and crashings as Blade and eighteen others leaped to their feet and plunged out into the open. Some of them were obviously dizzy from heat and strain and the subsonics. They lurched and staggered as they ran. But they stayed on their feet and kept going.

Blade swung to the right as he ran, moving up to join the team that was heading for the right-hand machine. It grew larger and larger as they ran, squatting there in all its metallic ugliness. The turret was turning slowly, but the machine showed no sign that it noticed the approaching people.

Then the turret stopped dead and began to swivel slowly back toward Blade. It had registered that the world outside was sprouting something strange, possibly unnatural, possibly even dangerous.

Run, run, run! Blade almost shouted the words out loud. Get to the machine before it starts moving or shooting. Thirty yards, twenty, ten. Breath rasped in his throat, his chest was tight and painful with strain and tension. Five yards, four, three- A young man, even more agile than Blade, sprang into the air like an Olympic broad-jumper, leaping for the machine's rear platform. He landed on his feet, nearly going forward on hands and knees. Metal clanged and boomed under him. He turned forward, grabbing for the bag and the hammer at his belt. Blade leaped up onto the platform beside him.