Blade discovered within a few hours that even a position of leadership among the Scadori was no bed of roses. Or if there were roses, they had very long thorns.

There was the ceremonial cup of beer that Chudo offered Blade. At least it tasted more like beer than anything else, although Blade was happy that he didn't know what really went into making it. He wouldn't have used the stuff to scrub any self-respecting floor. But he not only drank it, he was able to keep it down.

There was putting on the late and unlamented Urgo's armor and clothing. It was fortunate that Urgo had been an exceptionally large and beefy man. Blade was six feet one, weighed two hundred and ten pounds, and in a good many Dimensions had trouble finding clothing that didn't burst at the seams when he tried to put it on. But the armor was rusty and badly cared for, and as for the clothes, it had obviously been a long time since they were washed. They held enough dirt to stand up by themselves and almost enough assorted crawling things to walk away by themselves. They also stank beyond belief. In fact, the stink of the clothing surrounded Blade so thoroughly that he stopped noticing the smell of his new comrades. None of them seemed to have washed for a long time, either.

The porridge and the bits of roast meat they offered him for his meal weren't so bad. At least he could honestly say that he had eaten worse, although not much and not very often.

Blade decided he was going to find out as soon as possible who and what were the Karani-and where. Obviously they were one of the other peoples in this Dimension, but what else? If they were another tribe of barbarians like the Scadori, this was going to be a dull and dreary trip to Dimension X and a total waste of time as far as finding out anything or bringing anything back. But if the Karani were civilized, he was going to head for their territory as soon as he had a chance and move as fast as he could cover ground. If the Karani were close enough to fight with the Scadori, they were close enough for him to reach them sooner or later.

By the time he went to bed, Blade was even more determined to leave the Scadori if he got half a chance. Chudo offered him the crowning honor of the day-a chance to have the band's woman with him all night. Seen close-up, the slave was unmistakably female, although filthy, stringy-haired, and showing the signs of years of hunger and a good many beatings. Her dirt-encrusted back and buttocks were practically criss-crossed with scars, some only just healed.

«Who was she?» Blade asked. He tried to keep his voice casual, to match the contempt Chudo showed for the woman.

«Oh, nothing special. Just a Karani woman we took on a raid among their farms. To have a Karani woman for a band is rare now. The last Emperor kept a good watch on his people, may the Watchers shrivel him! But the new one is only a boy, they say. Perhaps we shall see things change for the better.»

Blade shook his head. «I cannot take a woman now. It is my people's way that after we have killed we must lie apart from women for a full day and night. I would be cursed if I took the woman now.»

Chudo nodded. «Your ways are strange, but if they produce such warriors as you are, they cannot be bad ways. But you will be apart from women for some time, I think. We have-«he broke off to count on his fingers «-seven days of walking before we come to our homes.»

«I am a warrior,» replied Blade. «I am used to going without many things for long times, even women.»

One of the other warriors laughed harshly at that. «Has a eunuch come among us, perhaps?» Blade turned to glare at the man, raising both fists, and Chudo drew his sword. The man swallowed and turned away.

«So be it,» said Chudo. «Then I shall take the woman first tonight, as is my right as leader next to you.»

«Go ahead,» said Blade.

Chudo did go ahead, vigorously. Blade heard his grunts and groans and the woman's whimpers and occasional screams of pain for quite a while. Eventually Chudo wore himself out and Blade was able to go to sleep. As he fell asleep he knew that he had learned a few useful things. The Karani were at least civilized enough to have a ruler who called himself an Emperor. But they were also such deadly enemies of the Scadori that if a Karani woman fell into Scadori hands she was treated worse than an animal. That meant a hatred between the two peoples that went very deep. That in turn meant that Blade would have to be very careful in asking about the Karani, and even more careful when the time came to escape to them.

Over the next few days Blade easily learned much of what he needed to know about the peoples of this Dimension. He simply kept his mouth shut and his ears open as the band of Scadori warriors tramped steadily across the rugged southern uplands of their home territory. Whatever one might say about their manners and habits, the warriors of Scador could certainly cover ground. They marched thirty miles a day and more. Fortunately Blade had held his own with the warriors of Zunga, who could cross fifty miles of their native plains in a single day.

The Scadori were a loose alliance of more or less independent tribes and clans scattered over an area at least as large as England. It was poor, barren, rugged land for the most part, like the land they were marching over or only a little better. Sometimes there was enough food and kind weather, often there were famine and storms. Since there had been people in Scador, those people had looked enviously at the lowlands to the southwest.

But in those lowlands lived the Karani. Not necessarily the High Karani, who lived in the golden city of Karanopolis beside the Great Water, so far away that a man could walk for a month before its shining towers came in sight. But people of the same blood, undeniably. If the Scadori raided down into the lowlands, the High Karani sooner or later marched out against them.

Then there was war, and a terrible one, for neither side showed any mercy at all. Almost invariably the Karani won, sooner or later. They had not only a sturdy infantry, but horsemen who could fight equally well on horseback or on foot, with bow, sword, or lance. The Scadori called the Emperor's elite fighting men the Riders of Death.

The Karani were civilized and formidable as well. But they were not invincible. They could make mistakes, they could be overwhelmed by sheer weight of numbers. As the raids and wars went on over the centuries, the Scadori gained skill in fast marching, laying ambushes, deadly close-in fighting. They captured Karani weapons and copied them, passing them on with the new war skills from father to son. Some day the Scadori would be able to march out as a people, many thousands of them. They would march against the Karani, and then even the Riders of Death would give way before them.

«In the meantime,» said Chudo, «the wars and raids must go on, whether we lose or win. If we do not go out and fight, our warriors will lose their courage and our sons will have no examples to follow.»

As Chudo promised, they marched for six days. From the position of the sun Blade could tell that they were heading roughly northwest. The land also slowly but surely rose under them. Each night the stars shone more clearly from the sky, and a colder wind blew across the sleeping warriors and made the horses whinny plaintively. The Scadori seemed completely indifferent to the cold.

On the morning of the seventh day they climbed through a final pass and came out on a high plateau. A few miles farther on was a small lake, and everyone stripped and plunged into the icy water. Blade managed to keep his teeth from chattering loudly enough to be heard, and enjoyed feeling at least some of the dirt wash away from his skin. After refilling their water bags, they ate a quick meal of cold dried meat and the march began again. The sun passed overhead and began to slide down toward a distant flat horizon. As the western sky began to turn red, Blade saw a conical shape rising from the plain against the redness. Its top and sides were studded with humps and blocks.