The sun was dipping below the horizon before they reached the waterhole that was their goal and campsite. By the light of torches the household slaves pitched hide tents, laid out food, refilled the water bags, and lit fires. The warriors refilled their water bottle's, gnawed pieces of dried meat, then moved out into the darkness to form a wide protective circle around the camp.

There were eight tents-one for the king, one for each of his daughters, one for Blade and Nayung, and one for the royal advisers. Everybody else would sleep on the ground, under the stars. And soon everybody was asleep, except for the warriors on guard and the slaves tending the fires.

Blade found that he could not sleep. Things were moving too fast for his mind to adjust to them. He was rising among the Zungans-in fact, he was shooting up like a skyrocket. And there was nothing to support his position except the favor of Afuno, his own skills, and a great deal of luck. So far the luck had been running his way. He hoped that it would continue.

Although he had been walking all day, he decided that perhaps a short walk around the camp would relax him as much as anything could. Nayung was asleep, and Blade did not disturb him as he slipped out of the tent and stepped out into the flickering orange glow of the firelight.

He kept walking, feeling the breeze blow over his skin, blowing away some of the tension. Out here the fire was reduced to an orange blotch on the dark plain, dimly showing up the hunched forms of the tents around it. From over nearer to the waterhole, the cattle stirred restlessly, and occasionally one bawled loud and harsh. A half moon rode high in a sky filled with more stars than Blade had ever seen before.

How long he sat there he didn't know. In time he realized that the temperature was dropping, and he thought of drifting back toward the warmth of the fire. He started to rise. As he did so, he realized that someone was standing in front of him, looking down at him.

He stood up, and found himself looking down at the figure. The face tilted upward, and in the faint moonlight Blade saw two wide eyes shining up into his. His jaw set hard. It was Princess Aumara.

The silence went on and on, those two eyes still gleaming upward. Finally Blade heard a soft laugh, and Aumara spoke. «What is it, Richard Blade of the English? Do you find my company unpleasant?»

«No, Princess. Only surprising. Why are you wandering about outside your tent?»

«Do the English keep their women locked up, like the Kandans?»

Blade was startled, and it showed in his voice. «No. Why do you ask?»

«If they do not, why are you surprised that I do not sit and stifle in my tent? The air is so good and clean out here on the plain.»

«It is. But aren't you afraid of being-bothered?» Blade could not think of a more tactful word at the moment.

«Who would bother me?» asked Aumara. Not arrogantly, but simply asking a question about a matter that she regarded as self-evident. «I am the First Princess of Zunga. It is death to show disrespect to me. And it would not even be necessary to wait for my father's guards and judgment to bring that death.» She reached up for the thong that held her robe together at the waist, undid it, and did a little whirling step. The robe lifted, showing a belt around her waist with two gleaming knives in it. It also showed that she wore nothing else under her robe. Blade had a fleeting glimpse of a trim waist and full round thighs converging in a curly dark mass of hair in the center.

Blade jumped as if he had been stung. He had not exactly been afraid of this, but he could see a hideous host of complications following in its wake. Aumara noticed his reaction, and her eyes blazed into his again.

«Is there a problem, Richard Blade? Do you perhaps find me not desirable? No, I see that is not the case, whatever you may say.» She pointed down at Blade's groin. He was entirely too aware that his manhood had risen. As usual it obeyed no will but its own.

«My tongue will not lie to you, Princess. Why should it? You are a beautiful woman. My mind and my manhood agree on that. But you are also a princess of the Zungans. Suppose I took you, and did not please you? Dawn might find me lying here stiff with one of your knives stuck in me. And suppose I pleased you, but my pleasing you did not please your father? Then the dawn might find me hanging downward from a pole, with the smoke of my burning guts rising up around me. And there are important things I have to do in Zunga.» He very nearly added, «More important than servicing a randy princess,» but realized that would be suicidally untactful. Instead he substituted, «Things that will not be done if I die.»

«I like that, Blade,» said Aumara. «I am not so vain that I rejoice in having a man fling away all his plans and duties to take me. But I can assure you there is no danger. I believe you will do your best, and no man can do any more. If your best is not good enough for me, there simply will be no other time. But if it is…» She left the sentence snidely unfinished. «And my father will say nothing, even if he learns of what we have done. He does not see fit to keep me in a cage, now that I am a grown woman. Even less will he try to hold me back now that my last brother is dead and I will be joint ruler of Zunga with a husband someday.»

She reached up to undo the thongs at the neck of her robe, then shrugged the robe to the ground. Nude except for the belt, she stood before him. Her skin was very smooth and its mahogany color had a slight sheen in the moonlight. Blade stared. In spite of his surprise, he felt his erection rise and stiffen still further.

«Here and now, Princess?»

«None will be looking or listening for us, Blade. If we are married, our first bedding will be before a royal assembly with ten thousand Zungan warriors looking on and giving you advice. Why not here and now?»

Aumara's mention of their being married nearly made Blade's erection collapse on the spot. Aumara noticed this. «Ah, Blade, I surprised you, did I not? But come, I think I see a little life still down there.» One long-fingered hand drifted down, then up under Blade's loincloth. Her fingers played busily and in a few moments she smiled. «As I thought, there is life. It is time, Blade. It is time.»

She unbuckled her belt and let it fall to the ground. Blade undid his loincloth and tossed it down on top of her robe. Then he stepped forward and put his arms around her, drawing her close to him, until her face lay against his shoulder. His hands went from the back of her neck down the straight back with its smooth, velvety skin, stroking, caressing, cupping the firm, perfectly rounded buttocks. Looking down, he saw her eyes close and her lips curl up in a smile. A smile of contentment so far, like a baby being held or a cat being petted. No passion in it yet.

He raised a hand and tilted her chin up until their lips could meet. Her mouth was rigid and stiff for a moment, for she seemed unfamiliar with kissing. Then it flowed open, and her small delicate tongue leaped out to meet his, moving like a living thing. Her arms rose from her sides and locked around his body. Her, hands met in the small of his back and began a gentle pressure there.

He pulled away for a moment's breath and looked at Aumara's face again. Yes, there was passion showing now, no mistaking it. Suddenly she sank to her knees, hands still clasped at the small of Blade's back. Her mouth opened, then warm, wet lips closed down on Blade's swollen member.

If Blade had felt aroused before, her expert fellatio brought him higher, and then higher still. He had to clamp down all his self-control to keep from a fierce and savage coming. His body was bowed backward as he fought for restraint. Aumara's hands pulled him forward bit by bit, as her lips worked their way up his organ. It seemed that she wanted to take the whole massive swollen rod in her mouth.