This was a wasted mission and he knew it. There was nothing to be gained for England in this particular Dimension X and every moment he lingered he risked death.

Worse, in this case, because if he were taken alive and given to Ptol's priests they would find means of keeping him alive a long time. A burning helmet would be the least of it. Yet, deep in his heart, he was content that the computer did not reach for him. He was stubborn, and probably quite mad, but he wanted to see this thing through. Blade laughed aloud. He was, in short, a fooll

Edym broke off his recountal to stare at the big man. «You laugh, sire? Perhaps you will share the joke with me, for I find little enough to be cheerful about.»

Blade smote him on the shoulder and laughed again. «I wish I could, lad, but I cannot and it is no matter.

Now you were saying of how clever I had been. Tell me that again, lad, for I like praise as much as any man. And it will refresh my memory.»

Edym cast him an odd glance but did — not comment. He picked up a paper. «I will read it back to you, sire, just as you dictated it to me.» He began to read from the paper.

It was a strange feeling, listening to words that he could not remember having spoken. One thing Blade recognized immediately-the cunning and the knowledge of making primitive war upon which he had always before been able to rely in Dimension X. The question now was, as he heard his own strategy revealed, would it work? Would Hectoris be baited into the trap that Blade had set?

«. . you spoke of a scorched earth policy,» Edym was saying. «You promised that all of Patmos would be destroyed, that Hectoris would capture nothing but ashes and desolation. Such was the message you sent him.»

Blade nodded. «You have a record of his reply? If any?»

Edym half smiled. «I have, sire. He sent back word that if Patmos was destroyed he would come anyway, come in revenge, for he had always had a mind to settle and live out his days on Patmos. He also threatened tortures of the worst kind and has set a special force of priests to thinking up new ways of prolonging life and agony.»

Blade battered a great fist into his palm and his laugh was harsh. «We had best see to it, then, that if worse comes to worst we all die.»

Edyrn said calmly that he had seen to that, at least among the Guard. If the battle was lost they had compacted to slay each other, and had drawn lots to arrange the order of it.

«You, sire, must do as you list. As will Izhmia, the Pearl. But there is still Juna to consider. She is prisoner of Hectoris, betrayed by Kador and Smyr, and Hectoris is sure to bring her along as a captive and seek to bargain with her. It is all important to Patmos, sire, that Juna live. But Izmia, my grandmother, will have spoken to you of that?»

Blade nodded vaguely. Izmia had done no such thing. Perhaps this night, when he met her in the Cavern of Music, she would explain. That too would have to wait.

Edyrn was unrolling maps and weighting them with metal blocks. «So far, sire, your plan has worked. Our defenses are so built as to channel the attack to North Harbor, to make Hectoris think it is our weakest point when in fact it is our strongest. It is at North Harbor that his main attack will no doubt fall, though it is to be expected that he will mount feints at other spots along our coast.»

Blade gazed out over the island. It was getting dark and thousands of fires were blazing. Off to his right was a great glow in the sky that could only be the remains of Cybar.

A lick of flame, like a dragon's tongue, leaped from the volcano nearby and then withdrew. Aes Triplex, thought Blade, remembering some of the classics he had read at Oxford. Triple Brass bound, the hearts of men who lived in the shadow of a volcano. The Guard was brave enough-and the Guard would die.

His own head must have been stuffed with brass, Blade admitted now, to think that even if his plan worked and he brought Hectoris to battle at a place of his own choosing, that he could defeat the barbarian hordes. He simply did not have the men. Hectoris would overwhelm him by sheer force of numbers.

Edyrn pointed to a spot on the map and then to its counterpart on the darkling horizon. «North Harbor, sire. The Samostan scout ships approach it even now. By dawn Hectoris will be ready to invade in force. Everything has been done that can be done, sire, and all your orders carried out. And now?»

Blade gave him new orders, brief and to the point, and left to keep his appointment with Izmia.

Nob, as he prepared Blade's bath and laid out fresh clothing, was full of chatter.

«The Samostans will land at dawn at North Harbor, master. I have had a score of reports from my beggars and they all agree.»

Blade, scrubbing away, nodded. «That is stale news, man. Have you nothing later to report?»

Nob grinned his toothless grin. «Aye. Hectoris has put a hundred foot and a hundred horse ashore near Cybar Port, but that is only a feint, a scouting party. They are pushing this way.»

«That is better,» conceded Blade. «We will let them push in a little way and then we shall see. That will be your task, Nob. I have given orders as to it when you leave me you will go straight to Edyrn and he will give you command of a squad of the Guard. Listen well, for this is exactly what I want you to do. .»

Ina, the Gray girl, led Blade down and down into the bowels of the volcano. There seemed no end to the passage. At first it was hot and Blade sweated, then it grew cool and even cold and he found himself chilling. Ile girl spoke not a word all the while.

They came into a vast open space and Blade heard the music again. Sensuous, sweet and strange harmony, and now he found himself in the very center of the music. It was not loud; he barely heard it, and yet it filled his brain. The girl left him without a word and Blade began to make his way through a glistening maze of what looked like. giant cobwebs stretching from floor to ceiling of the cav-

em. He touched one of the shining strands and it gave off a faint and plangent twang. It felt like rubber or plastic. At the same time he was aware of air moving through the cavern in a constant stream. Air that brushed through the billions of cobweblike strands and produced the music.

That was the secret. The whole island, Patmos itself, was a great volcano. It was riven by volcanic tubes, perhaps hundreds of them, and through these the music drifted to all parts of the island.

«BLADE!»

Iznua's voice. He could not see her, yet the sound came from in front of him, deeper in the cavern. Blade pushed on through the harplike strands, each one humming and vibrating in the air. There was a path, easily discerned when you were close enough, and he pushed on like Theseus in the Labyrinth.

«BLADE!»

Close now. Blade halted in the midst of siren song and looked about. Music engulfed him.

«BLADE!»

He saw a light and made for it. He left the giant harps and entered a smaller cavern. In the center stood a great catafalque all draped in black. On it, her naked body gleaming and changing color even as he approached, lay Izmia. Her silver hair was draped over her breasts and on her flat belly something gleamed. He recognized it as the metal bowl in which she had caught his semen.

Izmia spoke again, softly this time. A single word. «Blade.»

He halted and contemplated her, arms akimbo, frowning a bit. «I am here, Pearl of Patmos. Come as you bid me. What now?»

His eyes roved over her massive and perfect body and he felt no stir of excitement. There was to be no sex, no mingling of flesh, this time and he felt an odd mingling of diappointment and relief. And felt something else-something that chilled the flesh along his spine. There was no warmth in her golden eyes. this night-only a blankness and a far-seeing look.