Anthony, Piers - Incarnations of Immortality 04 - Wielding a Red Sword

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Wielding A Red Sword -- Piers Anthony
(Version 1.0 -- 12/12/2001)
MIME
It was a traveling show, the kind that drifted from village to village, performing for
thrown rupees. There was a chained dragon who would snort smoke and sometimes fire when its keeper
signaled, a harpy in a cage who flapped her wings and spat curses at the audience, and a mermaid
in a tank who would, for a suitable fee, bring her head out of the water to kiss a spectator.
Standard stuff, hardly impressive, but fun for the children. The dragon was old and flabby, the
harpy was ugly, and the mermaid, though pretty enough, evidently spoke no local dialect. But at
least this show was convenient and cheap, and the crowd was thick.
The man who watched was undistinguished. He was slightly below average height, wore a
faded gray shawl, and he kept his mouth shut. He had evidently suffered some abrasion of the face,
for it was to an extent swathed in dirty bandages, so that only his eyes, nose, and mouth were
exposed. He had the mark of the Sudra caste, though he could have been taken for an Aryan in race.
Since none of the twice-bom would mix voluntarily with the more lowly merchants and laborers of
the once-bom, his iden -- tity had to be taken at face value.
2 Wielding a Red Sword
Of course, caste had been legally abolished in most of the kingdoms of India. But what was
legal did not nec -- essarily align with what was actual. One had only to watch the reaction of
anyone who inadvertently brushed by a Pariah to understand that!
Now the main show developed. A stage magician per -- formed sundry acts of illusion,
causing the faces of de -- mons to manifest in smoke and a flock of birds to startle out of his
hat. One of the birds let a dropping fall on the head of a spectator, who complained loudly,
whereupon the magician gestured and changed the bird into a shining gold coin, which tumbled to
the ground and rolled. The spectator pounced on the coin -- but it converted to a ven -- omous
snake that hissed and struck at him, while the other spectators laughed. Good magic!
Then there was an exotic dancer, who undulated in the company of a giant python. Her
performance was partly artistic and mostly erotic, and the percentage of men in the throng
increased. Then the python opened its mouth and took in her left hand. The dance continued, and
the reptile swallowed her arm and then her head, and finally the rest of her body. There was
strong applause as her two kicking feet disappeared into the maw and the snake slithered heavily
back into its curtained cage.
Now a startlingly lovely young woman took her place on the small stage. Her skin was so
pale as to be almost white, and her hair was the color of honey. She had a little harp and she set
herself and began to play and sing. The song was in English, a language generally but not uni --
versally understood in this region. This was a novelty, and the audience was quiet.
The song and music spread out to captivate the lis -- teners. There was a special quality
to it that caught them up, even those who could not follow the words. It was as if a mighty
orchestra were playing and a chorus ofdeific beings singing -- yet there was only the one woman
and her instrument. This was a phenomenon beyond what had been presented before, and all stood
entranced.
When the song was done, there was a hush. Then the rupees began flying, landing at the
woman's feet, fairly burying them in metallic brightness. All that the audience had came forth,
begging for another song.
Piers Anthony 3
The woman smiled and sang again, and it was as before:
every person within range was transported. Even the old ones were rapt. Now those of the
^aishya caste, the hus -- bandmen and merchants, entered the throng, heedless of propriety,
listening. When the second song was done, the shower of money from these higher-class listeners
over -- whelmed the prior contributions. Applause enough!
The Sudra man stood transfixed, even after the woman had taken up her harp and retired to
her wagon and the next show had come on. Jostled by his neighbors, he re -- covered enough to walk
away, his gaze almost vacant. He had evidently been smitten and hardly knew how to cope with it.
He found his way to a wall that offered some slight seclusion and leaned against it. Then
he reached into an inner pocket and brought out a ring in the form of a coiled little snake. He
set this ring on his smallest finger and brought it covertly to his bandaged face.
"She?" he whispered in English.
The snake-ring came alive and squeezed his finger once.
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The man removed the ring from his finger and returned it to his hidden pocket. He paused,
considering. How was he to approach this lovely and talented woman, and how would she receive him?
He could get more specific advice from the ring, but he preferred to work it out for himself, as
his possession of the ring could identify his nature if it were seen by others.
In the end, he waited till dusk, when the throng dissi -- pated and the traveling show was
closing up for the night. He approached the covered wagon he had seen the woman with the harp
enter. He stood by it and clapped his hands, gently, so as to attract attention without generating
too much of it.
The woman appeared. "Yes?" she inquired. Now her lovely fair hair was bound in a heavy
kerchief, and she wore a functional skirt and jacket, but her beauty over -- came these
restrictions.
The man opened his mouth, but did not speak. He ges -- tured helplessly.
"I am sorry," the woman said. "I can see that you have been injured, but I do not speak
the local dialect. Do you know English?"
4 Wielding a Red Sword
The man tried again. His mouth worked, and finally the sounds came out. "Ah -- ah -- ah --
I do," he said.
She glanced sharply at him, tilting her head. "You are shy?" she inquired. "There is no
need to be. What is it
that you wish?"
The man struggled again to speak. "N-n-n-not sh -- sh-shy," he said. "I st-st-stu-stu-
stutter."
She did not even smile. "Come inside," she said.
He followed her into the wagon. Inside, the space was tight, but well organized; there was
room for two to sit facing each other, and this they did.
"I do not know you," the woman said. "I have not before talked directly with a person with
your problem. Forgive me if I am clumsy; I don't quite know how to
help you."
Again the man tried. It took time for him to get the words out, but the woman was patient
and did not try to interrupt or to fill in the words for him. Digested, what he said was this: "I
need help to leave the Kingdom."
"But if you have committed some crime, and are fu -- gitive from justice, I shall not help
you," the woman said.
He asserted that he was not a criminal; he just had need
to depart anonymously.
"Forgive me again," she said, "but I must ask you to touch my harp. This will advise me
whether what you say
is true."
He touched her harp. Nothing happened. She smiled. "Thank you. Now let us be introduced. I
am Orb Kaftan of Ireland, and I sing for my supper. My harp is a gift of the Mountain King and it
will not suffer the touch of a dishonest person. I am sorry I had to doubt
you before."
"I -- must not tell you my identity," the man said halt -- ingly. "I am not injured; I
wear the bandage to conceal
my face."
"Ah -- a political refugee?"
"Approximately." His stutter was diminishing as her warm attention helped him, but that
word remained a con -- siderable challenge.
"May I see your face?"
He unwound the bandage. His face was clear and hand --
Piers Anthony 5
some, almost aristocratic. "But I must not show it openly," he said.
"I think we might help you, but I am not sure you would like the manner," Orb said. "We
always have need of inexpensive labor, tending the animals, cleaning the cages, menial chores. I
think you are of higher birth than that."
"I am. I will do the work."
"Perhaps we can improve upon your camouflage," she said. "Let me fetch you a mask."
She set him up with a clown-mask. She assured him that it would not seem unusual, as long
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as he remained with the group, as most of the members had more than one task, doubling as
entertainers and workers.
And so he joined the group and shoveled dragon manure and cleaned the harpy cage and fed
fish to the mermaid. He was paid only with food, a bunk in a wagon, and his right to be anonymous.
The group moved slowly from village to village, on wa -- gons hauled by rented elephants,
and put on its show at every stop.
After several days, the man approached Orb again. "I think I could perform," he explained
haltingly.
"But everybody laughs at the clowns!" she protested.
"They laugh with the clowns," he clarified. "And I could do other things that don't
require speaking. I could be a mime, a juggler, an acrobat."
"These things are not as easy as they may appear," she protested.
"But I have some natural ability and some training," he said. "My mouth may be
handicapped, but not my body."
"Well, if you're sure, I can take you to the tour mas -- ter," she said doubtfully. "But
he is an exacting man."
"Take me to him."
She did. The tour master was large and fat and, when he wasn't playing to a crowd, he
tended to scowl. "Show your stuff or get out," he said gruffly.
The clown did a front-flip in the air, then stood on his hands, then flipped back to his
feet.
"So-so," the master said, unimpressed. "Can you do it on a high platform?"
6 Wielding a Red Sword
The clown nodded. There was no platform handy, so he scrambled lithely up a tree and took
his stance on a horizontal branch. He repeated his flip and handstand, then swung himself down,
around, and back to the top of the branch.
The master became more interested. No fear of heights, eh? What else can you do?" "He says
he can juggle," Orb explained. "Jugglers are a dime a dozen. He'd have to be some -- thing
special." .
The clown pointed to a collection of knives, used by a sometime knife-thrower. Then, with
permission, he took five, tossed them up singly, and juggled them. The blades flashed as they
twisted in the air, but no knife dropped to the ground.
"What else?" the master asked, impressed.
The clown had evidently prepared for this. He went into a mime act, doing a clever
imitation of a warrior whose sword kept getting in his way. He had no costume and no sword, but it
came across clearly. When he managed to spear his own foot, the master smiled. When he tried to
sheathe the blade rapidly and passed it through his crotch instead, the master laughed.
"You got it, mime! Work up a complete act; I'll put you on pay. We'll call you -- urn,
let's see." The master stroked his chin. "The Mime. No, Mym. Mym the Mime! You've got a talent,
boy. Wish I'd known before."
And so he joined the paid performers, leaving the dragon dung behind. "I had no idea!" Orb
told him warmly. "You are a very talented person, Mym."
It was merely coordination and training, he informed her, as much by gesture as by words,
for he did not like to embarrass them both by constant stammering. Orb was always understanding,
but still it represented an imposi -- tion, and the last thing he wanted to do was burden a woman
as lovely, inside and out, as she.
But her interest in him had been aroused, and his as -- cension to performer status
brought them into closer nat -- ural association. Though the group was casteless -- which made it
technically Pariah -- it did have its own type of stratification, with the master at the top, the
performers
Piers Anthony 7
next, and the menials at the bottom. Orb, as the main attraction, was second only to the
master in importance -- but as Mym refined his act and the flow of rupees in -- creased, his
status ascended correspondingly. At first the others had been condescending or diffident, because
of his speech impediment and his inexperience, but no one laughed at him, because all were
outcasts in their own fashions. The mahout who tended the lead elephant had a clubfoot, and the
dragon-trainer was an alcoholic -- the dragon liked the smell of alcohol -- and the cook was so
grossly fat that he expected in due course to assume per -- former status as a freak. None of them
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were inclined to laugh at something as minor as stuttering.
In fact, Mym discovered that the group was a kind of family; it looked out for its own,
and he had become a part of it. This became clear one day when they were setting up for a show in
a village not far south of Ah -- madabad, the giant capital ofGujarat. He was helping the exotic
dancer, Pythia, prepare for her act. She had to strip and spread a special protective grease over
all her body, so that the digestive acids of the python would not damage her skin. She had a magic
pill she would gulp just before the snake swallowed her head that enabled her to stop breathing
for twenty minutes or so; that and the salve enabled her to perform her act once each day. But the
girl who normally helped her and who reached into the python's open mouth to haul her out by the
feet when the act was over, had run away with a handsome drifter, and a replacement had not yet
been recruited. So Mym, whose act was done before hers, helped her with the preparation and the
conclusion.
He was spreading the salve on her body, making sure to catch every spot, when they were
interrupted by a party of armed, uniformed officers of the Gujarat law-enforce -- ment staff.
"Stand where you are, masked man!" one snapped at Mym, holding his sword ready. "Identify
yourself."
Mym, of course, was unable to respond, in part because of the stutter. Had they found him?
He had thought he was free...
The dancer, knowing his problem, faced the troops. Her
8 Wielding a Red Sword
breasts shone with grease and became more pronounced as she inhaled. "This is a private
dressing room!" she
protested in the local dialect.
The chief officer contemplated her assets. "This is Kingdom business, woman," he said
gruffly. "We are in pursuit of a party of thuggees. They may have passed this way -- and this man
is masked."
"This man is my assistant!" she exclaimed, taking a really significant breath. "He is no
thuggee! He has been with me all day!" She shook herself, and all three officers struggled not to
gape. "He wears a mask so the fumes of the python won't hurt his face." She snapped her fingers,
and the great snoozing snake woke and lifted its snout,
hissing. The men backed away. "To be sure," the leader said.
"If you speak for him -- " "Of course I speak for him!" she said. "I couldn'tfunc --
tion without him."
They departed, and Mym relaxed. He resumed spread -- ing the salve. "Certainly I spoke for
you," Pythia said. ' 'I didn't even have to lie, really, but I would have. I know you're no
thuggee, and whatever you did do to make you hide is no business of mine. We cover our own, here."
He continued with the salve, not trying to speak. "You do a good job," she added reflectively.
"Your hands are clever. You get me covered much faster and better than I could do myself, even in
the easy places. That girl I had before never was much good; she'd tickle me in one place and
skimp on another."
Which meant that she had been at risk for burns from the stomach acids. Mym knew she
didn't like that!
"Do you know why I asked for you to help me?" Pythia ontinued. "It wasn't because you are
good. It was be -- ause I can get any ten men to do this, but their hands would be sweating hot
and their eyes would be hotter. I don't like having a man do it -- never since one got carried
away two years ago and tried to rape me." She smiled reflectively. "The only reason he missed was
because the salve made me too slippery to hold. Actually, I'd have given it to him, if he'd asked;
I can take a man or leave him, anytime. What's a little thing inside me for a minute,
Piers Anthony 9
compared to what I go inside of for my act? But I don't like to be forced. So I told the
master, and he made a eunuch of that man. I was the lead act, then, you see. Don't misunderstand;
I'm not jealous of Orb. I'm in this for the money, and she brings in three times as much as we
ever had before, and the master is generous when the takings are good. And you, too -- you're
bringing it in nicely, too, and that's so much the better. But that's what I'm saying; when you're
with us, we take care of you, and you take care of us. The master took you on because Orb asked
him to -- and now he'd do anything you asked, too, because you're good for the show, Mym, you
really are. But I asked for you because I knew you could handle me without making a move." She
meant the handling physically -- his hands rubbing salve into every part of her, public and
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private.
He was finished, now, and her act was almost due. She turned to speak directly to him, as
she slipped into her scant costume. "I know you get hard when you stroke me; any man who's a man
does. When he doesn't, I'll know it's time for me to retire. But you wouldn't try to force me,
because you're the most disciplined man I ever met -- yes, you are, even if you try not to show
it! -- and because, even if you weren't, you're in love with Orb and you wouldn't touch another
woman if you thought there was any chance at all you might one day touch her, be -- cause you know
she's a one-man woman and expects the same in return. So I'm safe with you, Mym. That's why."
Mym stood there, chagrined. Had it been so obvious?
She answered, not needing the question. "No, you hide it well. But Orb -- what I can do to
a man by showing my body, she can do just by being herself. I'm dried fish;
she's caviar. So I knew what to look for."
She stepped toward the stage, bringing the python along with her, but paused once more.
"And you know, you just might," she said, winked, and went on out.
If Pythia understood him that well, then perhaps she also understood Orb. If she thought
he had a chance...
He watched the dance and consummation, half-dazed. But he snapped out of it as the python
slithered back, bearing its burden, because he had to get Pythia out before
10
Wielding a Red Sword Piers Anthony
11
she suffocated. The trained snake opened its mouth, which had been defanged, and Mym
reached in and caught the dancer's bare feet. He hauled, and the greased body slid out. The skimpy
dress had already dissolved away, leaving nothing to impede the motion. Of course this would never
have worked with an ordinary python or a fully clothed and ungreased woman, but that didn't mat --
ter; it was a decent show, and as long as it never played twice at the same place, the seeming
horror of it remained.
He got her clear and hosed her down, getting the acids away. The salve combined with the
acid, so that both were neutralized, but, as long as she remained inside the snake, more acids
were forming, so it was important to get the refuse off. After the hosing, he set her up, took a
clean cloth to her face, cleaned her closed eyes and mouth care -- fully, then did the same for
her genital region. Then he snapped his fingers at her ear, waking her from her trance.
She shuddered, then resumed her breathing. Her eyes opened. "You do such a good job," she
said. "With you, there's never any smarting, no bad patches. I'm com -- pletely clean." She leaned
forward and kissed him. She put her arms around his neck, set her face into his shoul -- der, and
sobbed for a moment. Then she lifted her face. "Thank you. I am back from the abyss. This, too, is
very fast with you."
Mym nodded. The act, spectacular as it was, was not accomplished without cost. Pythia
risked death, and the trance that stopped her breathing was halfway to death;
though she had been through it many times, each time she knew it could be the last, and
each successful recovery was a profound relief. Most others, even in the group, were not aware of
the full nature of the experience she undertook.
"Should you ever need me, you won't even need to ask," she said. "You are the best of men,
Mym."
Had his heart not already been committed, he would have taken her up on that. Yet Pythia's
acceptance of him was only a manifestation of the acceptance of the group. He felt as good as he
could remember.
It was the monsoon season, and daily the winds and
showers intensified. The master had a spell to ward off rain during the actual show, but
it was too valuable to waste during travel, when there was no money to be reaped. The dragon did
not like getting wet, but was too big to cover, so he was increasingly surly. Mym had a good way
with the animals, so had to be out cajoling the monster forward, getting soaked himself.
Then one of the wheels on the mermaid's wagon got mired in mud, and all other hands were
committed, so Mym went to take care of that. He used a pole to lever it out, but got thoroughly
muddied in the process. When the wagon was finally clear, the others were far ahead.
The mermaid poked her head out of her tank. Naturally the rain didn't bother her. "Come,
ride with me, Mym," she called.
Startled, he looked at her. He hadn't realized that she spoke English. Normally she didn't
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speak at all, because it was difficult to do when her lungs were full of water. But she could
drain it from her gills and breathe air when she chose, as she was an amphibian.
She patted the side of the tank. "Here," she said, smil -- ing. "You must be tired; you
deserve a rest."
He was tired, as well as being soaked and dirty. He , climbed up on the wagon, holding
onto the edge of the tank. The mermaid clicked to the mahout, and the mahout urged the elephant
forward. The wagon began to gain on the others.
Mym's hands were occupied, holding on as the wagon bumped along, but the mermaid's hands
were free. She took hold of his head and turned it to please her. Then she kissed him. "My thanks
for your service, sir," she said. "Should you ever require something novel -- "
He blushed, and she laughed. "I'm only teasing, maybe. But you are a good man."
Finally the wagon caught up to the others, and he dropped off, for his help was needed
elsewhere. But his mind was whirling, for this was the second time an at -- tractive woman had
made him an offer. He had no prej -- udice against halflings, and the mermaid had known this;
had his situation been otherwise, he would have been in -- terested. But what intrigued
him most was the evident
12 Wielding a Red Sword
fact that he had sex appeal for these women. He had known many women before -- more than
he cared to count -- but had never considered himself attractive in that sense. The others had
been made available to him because of his position; he had assumed that they would not have
offered so from their own personal choice. But here in the group, women were making themselves
avail -- able by choice. True, he had done them favors of a sort;
but he had not acted with the thought of such reward. Their interest had to be genuine,
and that flattered him in a profound manner. Perhaps his stutter was not the barrier he had
supposed. If so, this group had already given him more than refuge.
They came into Ahmadabad, a sprawling city of more than a million inhabitants. Here they
expected to have large and generous crowds, for the city folk were more sophisticated than the
villagers and more interested in oddities. Indeed, their first show was a great success, and the
master was so pleased that he issued bonus payments
to the performers.
Naturally Orb, typical other gender in certain respects, wanted to go shopping. The master
could not deny her, but insisted that she have some protection. "Thieves are
thick in cities," he muttered. "Mym can come with me," Orb said brightly. The master
scowled, but evidently remembered the way Mym had juggled knives. "But stay out of trouble," he
admonished. "I don't like risking two star performers
together."
So Mym went shopping with Orb, glad for the oppor -- tunity to be with her, however slight
the occasion. He wore a nondescript tunic and an artificial beard that com -- pletely changed his
appearance. Still, it was risky for him -- but perhaps no more so than performing in this city
as a mime.
Orb was delighted with the wares set forth in the open market. She went from stall to
stall, exclaiming at the bright woven materials and pretty baubles, choosing first
one and then another. But Mym was nervous. He felt a motion in his inner
13
Piers Anthony
pocket, so he quietly put his hand in, found the snake -- ring, and put his finger through
it. "T-t-t-trouble?" he murmured, as if to himself.
The ring squeezed once.
That was all he needed. He tried to draw Orb aside to warn her; but she was distracted by
her shopping, and his effort to speak was inhibited by the stutter, so that he could not get
through to her.
He sighed to himself. His hand remained in the pocket, out of sight. Accident? he thought
at the ring, but it squeezed twice. Malice? That brought a single squeeze. Robbery? Three
squeezes. And rape? he thought, and got a single squeeze. And murder? One squeeze. The thug --
gees? One squeeze.
Now he tried again to warn Orb. He caught her arm and squeezed, somewhat harder than would
ordinarily have been necessary. She paused, looking at him, real -- izing that something was
amiss. He made a motion with his head, signaling toward the region from which they had come.
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"Time to go home?" she asked, and he nodded affirmatively.
"Very well," she said. "Just let me find one more thing."
He tried to signal no, but she didn't understand. Rather than make a scene, he waited,
though the ring was pulsing warning.
Orb completed her purchase, and they started back. Mym guided her along a route they had
not taken before, hoping to give the thuggees the slip, but soon he saw the subtle pursuit
developing. They were watching, closing in -- three, four, five of them. They wanted the money the
woman evidently had to spend and her body, and they were not the type to leave witnesses behind.
The King -- dom had made an effort to eliminate the criminal class, now called the thuggees,
though these were not actually connected to the original guild of assassins. They were just common
cutthroats, always on the prowl for vulner -- able wealth, not trained killers but dangerous when
they banded together.
Mym's teeth bared in an unconscious snarl. He hated
14 Wielding a Red Sward
the thuggees, of whatever stripe! But he hao not brought a weapon, for complex reasons
that now seemed invalid, and the fact that Orb was the obvious target made it worse. Alone, he
could have given them the slip, but there was no way she could do that. This was going to be ugly.
What way? he demanded of the ring in his pocket. Then he ran through a mental list of
alternatives, beginning with straight flight and ending with mayhem. The ring squeezed at mayhem.
Where? he thought next.
The ring signaled as they passed a deserted alley. This was the best place to meet the
thuggees.
Mym did not question this; he trusted the ring. He took Orb by the elbow and guided her
into it.
The thuggees were jubilant at this break. This was ex -- actly what they wanted -- the
prey secluded, so that the dirty work could be done without witnesses. Killing could be
accomplished quickly, but it took longer to rape a living woman -- and it wasn't any fun when she
was dead -- be -- cause they had to take turns. Here in the alley, setting two of their number as
guards for the occasion --
They closed, one of them blocking off the far exit, the
other four advancing from behind.
Mym took Orb to a niche between buildings, where some dilapidated crates were piled.
"Hide!" he directed, his stutter not manifesting during his distraction. Seeing the tough-looking
men, she obeyed, frightened.
Now Mym stood before the crates, holding a board with a nail protruding, facing the
thuggees.
The five closed in. As one, they laughed, pointing at his inadequate weapon. They were
armed with knives of various descriptions, and their leader had a short sword.
Mym bit his tongue, deliberately. In a moment he tasted the blood. His eyes glazed, his
breathing quickened, and
his dark skin paled.
"Hey, he's freezing!" one of the thuggees exclaimed
in the native tongue.
"Trying to imitate a berserker," another said,
unconcerned. The blood in Mym's mouth continued to flow. His body
began to shake. The breath whistled out through drawn lips.
Piers Anthony 15
"Well, I'll berserk him!" the leader said, stepping for -- ward and raising his sword.
"He's shaking in his boots!" A thin line of reddish froth appeared at Mym's mouth. "Hey, I don't
know -- " another thuggee began,
worried.
Then Mym moved. The board dropped.
The leader saw no more than a blur, before his sword was expertly .wrenched from his
grasp. Then that sword whirled demonically, slicing at the thuggee to the right. A line appeared
at his neck, below the left ear, and he collapsed. The sword lifted and came down on the head of
the thuggee farthest to the left, splitting his face open from forehead to nose.
The leader, disarmed, gaped. "He is -- " he began. Then the sword whistled across with
such force that his head lifted from his neck and tumbled to the ground before the body fell.
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The two remaining thuggees tried to turn and run, but one was caught by a thrust to the
bowel, and the other, starting away, got the point of the sword through his skull from the rear.
The tip of the point showed through at the front as he fell.
Mym glanced back at the crates, where Orb still hid. He pondered a moment, then reached
for his ring again. Can she handle this?
The ring squeezed twice.
Best way to get her through? He ran through several notions in his mind and stopped when
the ring squeezed once. He had his plan.
Mym drew out a silk handkerchief he normally used in his mime act. He went to the woman.
Orb's head was ducked down, and she was shivering, evidently afraid of the violence and of what
was about to happen to him and to her.
"V-v-v-v-veil,'' he got out, giving her the handkerchief. She glanced up. "You mean -- to
hide my face? That won't fool the robbers!"
She did not know they were dead. "Qu-qu-quickly," he said. "Ey-ey-eyes too."
Frightened and mystified, she tied the handkerchief across her face, covering even her
eyes. Then he urged her up and out of the crates and guided her from the alley.
16 Wielding a Red Sword
Once they were clear of it, he removed the veil. "But why didn't they follow?" she asked,
perplexed anew.
He shrugged, allowing her to think that the matter was too complicated for an immediate
stuttering explanation. They hurried on back to the group's camp.
There was an ugly taste in Mym's mouth, and not from the blood he had invoked. He had
deceived Orb, and he did not like that one bit. But he believed the ring; she was not ready for
the truth. He had done what was necessary to save her life; that knowledge had to suffice.
2
PRINCE
They returned safely, and Orb secluded herself in her wagon to recover from the shock of
the near escape. Mym got busy on routine tasks, helping organize for the eve -- ning's show.
They had several shows at different sites in Ahmada -- bad, because in this city a few
blocks put them into an entirely new neighborhood, generating a fresh audience. The take was
excellent, and news of Orb's singing spread so that the master received an invitation to do a
private showing for a noble. Stunned, the master accepted.
All were delighted -- except Mym. He went privately to the master. "Sir, I cannot perform
before nobility," he said, though not nearly as smoothly as rendered.
The master heaved his paunch about and focused di -- rectly on Mym. "Do you know, I had a
visit from the police," he said. "There has been a particularly bad bunch of thuggees operating in
this region, leaving a messy trail of dead. Some officers even checked this group, a while back,
but of course we harbored no thuggees."
Mym nodded, knowing what was coming. How much had the master pieced together?
18 Wielding a Red Sword
' 'It seems that a beautiful woman had an encounter with them recently, but she managed to
escape," the master continued. "The police realized from the description that she was from our
group, so they came to inquire. Indeed it was our Orb, and she confirmed that the encounter had
taken place. Five brutish men, armed with knives and a sword. But it seems that you managed to
dissuade them
and escape unharmed." Mym nodded again, for once glad that he was unable
to speak with facility.
"The five were found slaughtered in an alley. The pat -- tern of their bodies is typical
of that left by a berserker warrior. You know -- the kind who tastes blood and goes
crazy."
Mym shrugged. "But something doesn't match," the master said. "A
true berserker would have slaughtered the woman too, then gone out through the city and
killed and killed until overwhelmed by a force of twenty armed, trained men.
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This did not happen."
Mym waited. "Orb reports that you had her don your handkerchief
to hide her face and that you led her out of that alley. She doesn't know how you
persuaded the thuggees not to fol -- low. There was no one else -- just you."
Again Mym shrugged. "Now I never heard of a temporary berserker," the
master said. "Obviously you are not one; you weren't even armed. So I must assume that
either a berserker happened upon the premises at that moment, destroyed the thuggees, and expired
from a lucky retum-thrust be -- fore he got to you -- which makes no sense, as no other body was
found -- or that a highly trained warrior who
hated thuggees did the deed." He had obviously caught on. Mym's hand went to his
inner pocket, and his finger found the ring. Lost? he
thought.
The ring squeezed twice. "You are very handy with knives," the master was
saying. "But I have never seen you juggle anything except weapons. This suggests that you
were never an enter --
19
Piers Anthony
tamer before. You merely have learned to handle weapons with an extraordinary facility. I
can think of only one class of person who would have access to training like that -- a noble."
Still Mym waited.
"And now you tell me you cannot perform before a noble. Because you would be recognized?"
Mym nodded.
"Well, let me tell you something about concealment," the master said briskly. "The best
concealment is that which the observer never suspects. That is the secret of the legerdemain I
practice. Misdirection. The very last place any noble would expect a noble to be hiding would be
onstage before other nobles. I want you to do your act; I guarantee you will be secure from
discovery."
Mym shook his head negatively.
"Ah, but there is the stutter," the master said, as if just remembering it. "Now it occurs
to me that that might indeed be an identifying trait. I have no deep knowledge of the nobility
here; I travel too much to keep current. I have heard of no stuttering noble, but that may be just
my ignorance. Suppose we were to add some words to your mime act? Under your mask and makeup, no
one can see your mouth move. If at key points a voice-mimic behind the stage were to throw his
voice, so that it seemed to emanate from you...?"
Mym, vastly relieved, reached out and clasped his hand.
"But though there is no need for me to know details that do not concern me," the matter
concluded, "I think there is one who must be advised. I would not have her hurt for all the world,
and nobles are notoriously casual about romantic liaisons. I think, before things proceed further -
- "
Mym nodded affirmatively. It was indeed time.
They talked, as the caravan waited out one of the mon -- soon downpours north ofAhmadabad.
It was pleasant in Orb's wagon as the sound of the rain beat loud, for her covering did not leak
the way some of the others did. First she told him her history, for she wanted him to know
20 Wielding a Red Sword
about her. She had been born in Ireland twenty years before and raised with a kind of
sister she called Luna. Mym wasn't quite clear on the relationship, but it seemed that Orb's
parents were Luna's grandparents, and that the two girls seemed very like twins. Luna painted with
a magical brush she had received from the Mountain King, and Orb sang with the harp from the same
source. It was the golden harp that extended her power, so that the au -- dience could experience
it. Her father had had the same talent, but it only manifested when he was touching the
person to whom he sang. But what was she doing here in India? Mym wanted to
know. For it was obvious that she could enchant audi -- ences anywhere in the world and
had no need to wander
in such uncivilized reaches as these. Well, she was looking for a song, she explained. It
was
titled the Llano, and it was the most marvelous song ever to be sung on Earth, but it was
highly elusive. For one thing, it was very challenging to sing, so that only a few people in each
generation could perform it successfully. She thought she might be able to sing it well enough and
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wanted to try. For another thing, it was said to be the most compellingly lovely song that the
human voice was capable of rendering, and that intrigued her too. But mainly, she believed that
her destiny lay with the song, for whoever traced it to its source would discover the avenue to a
wholly new fulfillment. Orb, dissatisfied with her mundane existence, sought that fulfillment.
"I have heard of it," Mym said haltingly. And he ex -- plained how the manifestation of
the Llano had been said to accomplish miraculous things. Once a young woman had loved a great
warrior, but she was of lesser birth, and the warrior was not aware of her. So one day she sang
him a segment of the Llano, and he was instantly capti -- vated and loved her from that moment.
Orb adored the story. "Of course it couldn't happen in
real life," she said regretfully. "It could happen," he assured her. She looked at him,
understanding. "I -- but of course
you're not a prince." She was trying to mitigate the pos -- sible cruelty of the
situation. '^Not that that matters, Mym. I -- have been growing very fond of you. Even -- "
Piers Anthony 21
He cut her off before she could say anything she might prefer to retract later. "I-I-I-I --
" But the stutter over -- came him completely; he could not get the words out.
Orb put her hand on his. "It doesn't matter, Mym."
He shook his head. It did matter! But he couldn't say it.
Then she brightened. "I have heard that sometimes -- Mym, can you sing?"
"S-s-s-sing?" he asked blankly.
"It invokes a different portion of the brain, as I un -- derstand it. So some stutterers
can sing clearly, even though they can't talk. Come, try it; sing with me." And she launched into
one other Irish songs: "0 Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling, / From glen to glen, and
down the mountain side."
Doubtfully, he joined her: "And from the trees, the leaves, the leaves are falling, /Tis
you, 'tis you must go and I must bide."
They both paused, astonished. He had not only man -- aged to sing it without stuttering,
he had sung it clearly and well.
"You could make it as a singer!" she exclaimed.
"I-I-I-I could!" he agreed, awed.
"No -- sing it," she urged him. "You don't need a song;
just hold the note, any note."
"I can!" he sang in a level note.
"Now you can say anything you want to!" she ex -- claimed. "Oh, Mym, I'm so pleased!" And
she flung her arms about his neck and kissed him.
He let her do it, but did not respond. First he had to acquaint her with his own history,
and he wasn't sure she would be pleased.
"I am not what I seem," he sang on a single note, re -- veling in this sudden new ability
while he dreaded what he had to say. "I am a prince."
Orb sobered rapidly. "Go on," she said with sudden reserve.
In singsong, he did. He was the second son of the Rajah ofGujarat and had been raised in a
palace, his every whim obliged. His older brother was slated to become the new Rajah when their
aging father died. Mym's real name was
22 Wielding a Red Sword
a complex construction that translated, loosely, as "Pride of the Kingdom." Of course, he
explained ruefully, he had been named before it was realized that he had a speech impediment. He
was of course no pride, and the name had become an irony, one that he never used. His confinement
to the palace had been as much to conceal him from public awareness as to cater to his needs, for
indeed his father was ashamed of him.
But a prince remained a prince, and care was taken to bring him to the necessary level in
every princely art. For if anything should happen to his brother, before there were issue, Mym
would, to the consternation of all who were in the know, still assume the throne. How he could do
this, when he could not even give a cohesive directive, no one dared speculate. It was vital that
his brother be married early, so as to alleviate the possibility of disaster. His brother had
married early -- but both his wife and his leading concubine had proved to be infertile. This was
an embarrassment of another nature. They were maneu -- vering to obtain a fertile wife, but such
matters were com -- plex. Meanwhile, Mym -- and the kingdom -- remained at
risk. Mym had finally had enough of this. He did not want
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摘要：

file:///F|/rah/Piers%20Anthony/Anthony,%20Piers%20-%20Incarnations%204%2-%20Wielding%20A%20Red%20Sword.txtWieldingARedSword--PiersAnthony(Version1.0--12/12/2001)MIMEItwasatravelingshow,thekindthatdriftedfromvillagetovillage,performingforthrownrupees.Therewasachaineddragonwhowouldsnortsmokeandsome...

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