A moment later he had problems of his own. Blade and Lord Desgo had both been staring at Neena's fantastic leap so hard that they completely forgot about each other. Their meytans nearly crashed head-on into each other. They pulled them aside with feet to spare and charged past each other.

As he pulled his meytan around, Blade saw Lord Desgo doing the same. For a moment he wondered what to do next. He had no weapon with enough reach to match Lord Desgo's two-handed sword. But he had a captured Trawn short sword, he knew how to throw it, and Lord Desgo wore no armor. Blade drew the sword and hefted it by the tip as he and Lord Desgo charged past each other again. Then they were coming back around, into a third charge, with Desgo heading straight toward the Mountains of Hoga. Blade's arm whipped up and out, and the short sword sank into Desgo's belly just below his rib cage.

He screamed, as much in surprise as in pain, and reeled in his saddle. Then he toppled to one side, sliding toward the ground. He did not fall all the way. One foot caught in a stirrup. As the panic-stricken meytan galloped away, Lord Desgo went with it, dragged along the ground and bounced into the air by every rough spot he went over. His face was already a pulped, bloody mask as Blade lost sight of him.

Lord Desgo's eyes must have closed for good long before his army finally broke and ran from the field. The gods had not spared him much, but they did spare him that.

The army of Draad never did find out what its opponents' trumpets sounded like in defeat. All of Trawn's trumpeters were either dead or too busy running for their lives to have any breath to spare for their music.

It was the evening of the day of the battle. Blade, King Embor, Neena, and the High Kaireen were sitting in a dark and drafty but not far from the battlefield. A small fire burned in the center of the floor, producing nearly as much smoke as light.

It produced enough light to show an enormous emerald flashing on Neena's left hand. Her betrothal ring was finished at last, delivered by messenger only an hour after the battle.

The same firelight showed the ruby ring once more on Blade's hand. He was not as delighted as Neena, but it was certainly a load off his mind. His time in this dimension must be drawing toward a close. When he was snatched back to Home Dimension, he wanted to be wearing that ring. It was the first object ever to pass with him into Dimension X, and that made it too important to leave with anyone, for any reason.

King Embor was talking.

«-not as happy as I might be. We have the bodies of ten thousand of Trawn's warriors, with all their weapons and gear. We have the camp, with everything and everyone in it. We have slain most of Trawn's trained stolofs, and also Lord Desgo himself. Yet is this enough? Half of the enemy's warriors have escaped us.»

Neena shook her head. «They have escaped us here, on the battlefield, today. That does not mean they will find a safe way home. The Pass of Kitos is held against them, and the mountain people will also do their part. I doubt if more than half the survivors will get through the pass. Half of those will die in the forests, of hunger and thirst, snakes and falls, drowning and the arrows of the mountain people who will still be following them. Those who return to Trawn will be starved, sick, and wearing nothing but their breech clouts, if that much. I think we have taught Draad a lesson that they will not forget in our time or in our children's, at least.»

The High Kaireen nodded. «I agree with the princess. Also, we have another weapon against them, one my people have discovered while searching the camp.» He held out a thick wad of parchment scrolls tied up with deerskin thongs.

«Lord Desgo apparently had hopes of making himself a ruler of Draad after he smashed our camp. Then he would use our wealth to win friends among the nobles of Trawn, and in the end lead them against Furzun and sit upon the throne of Trawn himself.»

«I'm not surprised,» said Blade. «His ambitions stuck out all over him.»

«He certainly was ambitious,» said the High Kaireen. His smile broadened. «He also was not very wise. He wrote many letters to those he hoped would some day be his firm allies, and received many replies. Here they are.» He dropped the scrolls on the floor.

«I too would say that he was not wise,» said Embor. «But what does this mean for us?»

Blade grinned. «It means a great deal. Have you thought what may happen in Trawn if we get these letters into King Furzun's hands?»

Neena gave a whoop of delight. «He will be too busy tracking down all of Desgo's friends and taking off their heads to think about anything else. There will be complete chaos in Trawn for at least a year, and much bitterness after that.»

«Assuming that one of those nobles doesn't decide to try getting the king first,» added Blade. «Then there will be civil war in Trawn, and chaos for ten years instead of one.»

King Embor nodded. «All this is very good, but how are we to get the letters into Furzun's hands?»

«I think we should-«began the High Kaireen, but Neena held up a hand to stop him.

«If you two wish to sit up all night planning how to confound Trawn even further, well and good. Blade and I will not be needed. I think we can leave, can we not, father?»

Embor sighed and smiled wearily. «You can, daughter. But first I have something for your husband.» He reached into a bag beside him and drew out a small sack of fine white deerskin with a copper and gold fastening. He handed it to Blade.

«Open it, my son»

Blade opened it. A dozen emeralds, from the size of a baby's fist on down to the size of marbles, flashed fire back at him. Between exhaustion and gratitude, he found himself unable to say anything for a moment. Then all he could say was, «Thank you, my Lord,» before Neena grabbed his hand and practically dragged him out of the hut.

Outside in the cool night air Blade took several deep breaths and felt his head become clearer. He also felt Neena lean against him, running her hands over his body in a way that could have only one meaning.

«Neena, are you never satisfied?»

«It has been a long time since we last joined, my husband.»

«It has only been since last night, wife.»

«That is a long time, when we have spent a day so full of danger that each minute seemed like an hour. Come with me, and let us rejoice together that we have won and that both of us are alive to celebrate it.»

Blade could not argue with those sentiments. He followed Neena toward their own hut without another word.

They undressed in the darkness and lay down beside each other on the straw pallet that was all the bedding. After the day's fighting, it seemed as comfortable to both of them as a feather mattress. Neena's lips moved toward Blade's, pressing themselves down warmly and eagerly. Her hands explored his body, stroking their way down into his groin, as his hands crept up her graceful curves to her breasts.

They joined, and a glorious flame seemed to be burning deep inside Blade. It was in his groin, in all his limbs, in his head-

His head! A second before the pain in his head became agonizing instead of glorious, Blade knew what was happening. He was going Home, gripped by the computer, about to be snatched away from Gleor-and from Neena.

She had noticed that something was wrong. She cried out, not in pleasure but in fear of the totally unknown and of danger to him. The pain in Blade's head blazed higher, and it seemed to him that the whole dark but was being flooded with light. He saw Neena's wide-eyed face inches from him, and he saw the bag of emeralds lying on the floor beside the pallet. One hand stabbed out frantically and clutched the bag.