by Allan Cole
"What's this? Biner asked.
"The price of a century's worth of tickets, Safar said, smiling. I'm hoping you'll always save a place for me."
"We thirtainly will, Arlain said, dabbing at a tear with a kerchief.
"Won't be much of a circus, Biner said, without Methydia and the Cloudship."
"I wish I could bring them back, Safar said. The gold is all I can do."
"We'll make the best damn circus we can, Biner said. We'll make you proud of us."
"I already am, Safar said. And for the rest of my life I'll remember the months I was with you."
"You're a rich man, now, Biner said. A powerful man. But if you should ever need us… Emotion overcame him and he turned to honk his nose into a rag. When he'd recovered, he said, Hells, you know what I mean!"
"Sure I do, Safar said, wiping at his own tears.
Then he embraced them all one by one.
When he was done he rushed off before he weakened and slipped away with them in the night.
****
The next time Leiria came to his bed he nearly refused her. In the end it seemed easier to accept her embrace than send her away. She was an ardent lover, a skilled lover. He never again called out Methydia's name, although it was Methydia he thought of. He didn't know what to make of Leiria. Was she truly smitten? Or was she Iraj's spy? She never gave a sign either way. At night she was fire in his arms, by day the cool professional, measuring any man who approached him for signs of ill intent.
Because of his doubts he waited several nights before he delved into a most important task. Then he gave her a difficult errand that would take much time to accomplish.
When she was gone he drew out the stone turtle and summoned Gundara.
The little Favorite was still extremely weak and couldn't take full form. Safar could see the tent walls through his wispy figure.
"I hope you don't have anything hard you want to do, master, Gundara whined. I'm not feeling very well, you know."
"I have a treat for you, Safar said, offering Gundara a sweet he'd saved from the dinner table.
Listlessly, Gundara took it from his hand. He licked at the sugar, then sighed and let the sweet fall to the ground.
"Doesn't taste as good as it used to, he complained.
"I've never had a chance to thank you for the warning that night, Safar said.
Gundara made another deep sigh. I almost couldn't get out of the stone, he said. Gundaree pushed and pushed as hard as he could. It nearly killed us both."
"I'm sorry for that, Safar said. Still, you saved my life."
Gundara shrugged. I just hope I don't have to do it again real soon."
"So do I, Safar said. But what about now? Am I in the presence of enemies?"
"Assuredly, master, Gundara said. There are enemies all around you. So many I can't single anyone out in particular. Right now they seem afraid to do more than hate you. My advice, master, is to be as careful as you can."
"What about Iraj? Safar asked. What about the king? Is he my enemy?"
"No, the Favorite answered. But he's a danger to you. All kings are. Beware of kings, master, is the best advice I can give you."
"And what of the woman Leiria? Safar asked. Does she mean well, or ill?"
"I'm too weak and her thoughts too confusing to say, master, Gundara answered. When she's with you, she adores you. But when she's near the king, she adores him. All I can tell you is don't trust her… and keep her close."
Safar hid his disappointment. He'd hoped to get more from the little Favorite.
"Is there anything I can do for you? he asked. Anything at all to speed your recovery?"
"Rest, master, Gundara said. That's all we need and that's all that can be done. We'll be better by and by."
Safar thought, by and by could mean a hundred years to a Favorite. He hoped that wasn't the case.
He started to make a motion to send Gundara back into the stone.
"Wait, master, Gundara said. I almost forgot something."
The Favorite made a gesture and a small object appeared in his hand. He gestured again and the object plopped into Safar's palm, growing before his eyes.
It was a thin, battered old book bound in leather.
"Nerisa and I stole this from Umurhan's library, Gundara said. She gave it to me to hold for you."
Safar looked closer. He caught his breath. On the cover, in worn gold leaf, was a familiar symbol.
"It's Lord Asper's book, Gundara said. The one you were looking for. Then he vanished into the stone.
Fingers trembling, Safar opened the book. It took him a few moments to translate the scratchings. Then the words jumped out as if they were alive:
"Long, long have I bewailed this world. Long, long have I mourned our fates. Swords unsheathed, banners unfurled, Charge the ramparts fired with hate. 'Slay the humans! we all cried. 'Drive the devils from our lands!' I shouted the loudest, but I shouted a lie. I feared to tell them all were damned! Demon and human from a single womb, Bound for Hadin where once I spied A common death and a common tomb…
Safar grunted in frustration. Insects had destroyed the rest of the page.
He flipped the leaves. A few were damaged, most were not, but the rest of the book seemed to consist of magical formulas and scribbled notes, with other bits of poetry here and there. It would take much time to decipher the demon wizard's formulas and notes. But at least he'd finally found somethingor someoneto point the way.
He thought of Nerisa. Actually, she'd never been far from his mind. Not a day passed when her face, with its huge sad eyes and crooked little grin, didn't rise up to haunt him. He smiled, thinking this bookAsper's bookwas her final gift to him.
Outside his room he heard Leiria approach. He put the book away.
Poor Leiria, he thought. Two dead women for rivals, instead of one.
****
The army marched a week later, Iraj at its head and Safar at his side. Sampitay's citizens turned out for the march, lining the main road and shouting praises and well wishes to the Good King Protarus.
Not long after another city fell, adding to the jewels in his crown. Iraj dealt with this city like Sampitay, following Safar's advice on the treatment of its citizens and the manner of government. A month went by, a month filled with conquests. Some were bloody, some were not.
Then winter came and Iraj's army took up camp. There was plenty of fuel for fire and plenty of food and drink. Messengers came and went, caravans crept over the snow, carrying gold from the tax gatherers to fill Iraj's treasure house.
But the king was moody, pacing the grounds and staring out across the distance at the Gods Divide, cursing all the cold days that remained until spring.
And he swore to his friend and Grand Wazier, Lord Safar Timura, that he would march for the mountains when the first green buds burst from the ground.
PART FOUR
The Demon Wars
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE THE
INVASION BEGINS
It was the largest military gathering in the history of Esmir.
A demon armyhalf-a-million strongformed up along the edges of the Forbidden Desert, armor glowing in the pale spring sun. It looked like an enormous dragon with glittering scales and outstretched wings, poised to take flight to ravage the human lands. Whole forests of spears, pikes and archers formed its body. Huge baggage trains of arms and supplies made its tail. Trumpeting elephants and snarling cavalry mounts, mixed with the rattle of weapons and the shrieks of campfollowers gave it a voice.
Forming its head were ten thousand mounted troops, commanded by Crown Prince Luka.
It was an elite force, composed of the finest young demons in the land. All were of noble blood and all were anxious to shed that blood for Gods and King. They'd been whipped into a fighting frenzy and were impatient for the signal launching them across the desert. They grumbled loudly at any and all delays, gnashing their fangs and casting anxious yellow eyes at their adored Crown Prince, who was at the mo
ment conferring with his father, King Manacia, and his Chief Wazier, Lord Fari.
The prince, pretending to be completely absorbed by his father's final words before the campaign began, heard their grumbling and hated them for it.
He couldn't imagine why they were so anxious to rush off to meet their Makers. The prince didn't care if they all died the most horrible of deaths. What he objected to strongly was he was expected to share their fates. He thought, they're all so inbred you could poke out both eyes with a single talon. They're all balls and no brains. They had thick necks with small heads, whose only purposeas far as Luka could determinewas to carry a helmet. Why oh why, do the gods hate me so?
"The first part of the campaign rests squarely on you, my son, King Manacia was saying.
"Pardon, Majesty? Luka said. I'm sorry, but I'm finding it difficult to concentrate. I confess I was dreaming of the victories my troops and I will lay at your feet once we are in the humanlands."
Manacia exposed his fangs in a proud grin. What a fighting prince I have for a son, Fari, the king said to his Chief Wazier. He's so anxious to be off slaying humans he's barely heard a word I said."
Fari bobbed his head, old snout wrinkling into a smile. Indeed, Your Highness, Fari said, putting claws to chest as he spoke and then adding one his favorite stock phrases: Prince Luka is an example to us all."
Luka caught the gleam of amusement in the ancient demon's eyes. Fari could read his heart and was delighted at the prince's predicament. You old bastard, Luka thought. I swear I'll live just to spite you. No matter what it takes I'll survive to piss on your grave and shit on my father's.
"It's his mother's hot blood in him, Manacia said. Then, to Luka, Did I ever tell you about the time your dear lamented mother accused me of raping her?"
"I don't believe you did, Majesty, the prince lied. I'd be most anxious to hear that tale."
Manacia burst out laughing at the memory. It was after she tried to stab me and I had to tie her down, he chortled. She… She…"
The king broke off, calming himself. He wiped an eye and resettled his crown, which had been shaken over one ear from his laughter.
"Never mind, Manacia said. We have more important business at claw. I'll save the tale for some night in the future when we're all gathered about a good campfire, sharing a roasted human haunch."
He jabbed at a map, drawing their attention back to the final planning session.
"I want you to cross the desert just as quickly as you can, Luka, the king said. Ride like the winds. Don't stop for anything. And when you're on the other side I want you to secure a basecamp.
"Give the area a good scrub, mind you. If you see humans, kill them. In fact, it would be best if you scouted out a good fifty miles around the camp. Destroy any settlements you find and make sure no humans escape to spread the news of our invasion. We want to retain the element of surprise as long as we can.
"Once I have my army set and the supply lines secured, we'll roll over them like an eight-beast chariot run amok in the market place. Within six months I predict we'll be at the sea, enjoying a good fish dinner."
Luka bowed. And it will be my great honor, Majesty, he said, to cook your meal with my own claws. But he thought, If I have the chance I'll stuff it so full of poison it'll make your scales fall off, you filthy old coward, you.
Manacia rolled up the map and handed it to an obsequious aide, who dropped to his knees and knocked his bony forehead on the rocky ground before withdrawing in a backwards crawl.
"There's only the casting of the bones remaining, Fari, he said. Then I'll give the signal for the march to begin. Assuming all bodes well, of course."
He glowered at the wizard when he said the last, making it quite obvious what would happen to Fari if the casting did not meet his liking.
"Never fear, Your Highness, Fari said, drawing his casting case from his sleeve. I ordered special bones made up for this historic moment. That human we used for the last divining session proved so lucky I kept back the knuckles of his dexter hand when we disposed of his corpse."
Fari motioned and two slaves crawled over to unroll a small carpet at his feet. The carpet was night black, with the Star Houses picked out in silver.
He took an ivory cup from his casting case and a small drawstring bag made of silk. He untied the string and upended the sack. The knuckle bones made a dry rattling sound as they fell into the cup. He shook the cup and it was like the buzz of a desert viper as the bones swirled about.
And Fari intoned:
"Unloosen thy secrets, let us behold What tale the Gods will tell of us When these blessed events unfold."
He cast the bones on the carpet. King, prince and wizard leaned over to study the result.
"What's this? Manacia said, delight in his eyes. They've fallen in a pattern across the Demon Moon. He looked up at the wizard. I believe the Demon Moon is due to rise soon, isn't it, Fari?"
"Indeed it is, Your Highness, Fari said, bobbing his head. The Star Gazers tell us it appears but once every thousand years. And they predict that cycle is about to repeat itself.
"This casting brings us good news, Your Highness, as you can see for yourself."
He pointed a talon. And look here, one knuckle has fallen on a comet. The Demon Moon and the Comet, as Your Highness well knows, is the sign of Alisarrian."
Manacia slapped his thigh in delight. The Conqueror, himself! he exclaimed. Except this time it'll be a demon, not a devil human, who does the conquering!"
Fari gave a mental sigh of relief. He would have lied, if he'd dared, to make this casting come out as the king wanted. But Manacia was the most powerful wizard in the demonlands. He could read a casting as well, if not better, than any of his royal wizards. Such things bored him, however, and he left it up to his magical minions to study bones and entrails for some signpost of the future.
Overcome by emotion, Manacia rose and threw his arms around the Crown Prince. The gods are with us, my son, he said, embracing Luka. Let their will guide you on this holy mission."
Luka returned the embrace awkwardly, wishing mightily for a dagger to plunge into his father's back.
"I will do my best, Majesty, he said.
Manacia drew back. Mount up, my son, he commanded, and I will give the signal."
Luka bowed low, then strode over to his steed, a huge mailed beast with a long graceful neck, glistening fangs and polished claws. As the prince tried to mount, the beast took a swipe at him with one of those claws. Without breaking stride the prince dodged the claw and vaulted into the saddle, raking the beast with his spurs so hard he drew blood.
The beast shrieked and reared back, pawing the air.
"Good show! Manacia shouted to his son. Nothing like a spirited mount to carry one to victory."
Luka was struggling to keep his seat, but he covered this indignity by again raking the beast with his spurs.
"To victory! he cried, drawing his sword and waving it in the air.
His warriors echoed the cry, roaring in unison. TO VICTORY!"
Luka pressed the sword against his mount's neck, his next words covered by shouts pouring from ten thousand demon throats. Get your claws on the ground, you louse-bitten piece of slime, he said, or I'll cut your throat."
The beast understood and dropped back to earth as agilely as a house cat.
Luka booted his mount to the command point in front of his demon force.
Again he shouted, To victory!"
"TO VICTORY! they roared, drawing their own swords and waving them madly in the air.
"The prince is going too far, Manacia complained to Fari under his breath. This is my moment, not his."
Fari shook his head, hiding his pleasure at this criticism of his enemy. Just high spirits, I'm sure, Your Highness, he said. I'm certain it wasn't intended."
"Maybe so, maybe so, Manacia grumbled. But we'd better hurry it up just the same."
Fari signaled and demon slaves jabbed at the king's great white elephant. It l
umbered forward, grand howdah lurching back and forth. More jabs brought it to its knees and the king was hoisted up, panting a little and wondering if perhaps he was letting himself become too fat.
Never mind that, he thought as took his place in the howdah. You'll be slim enough when this campaign is over.
He signaled. Trumpets blared, drums rolled and the whole army came to attention with a great rattling of armor and weapons. A slight pause followed, just a bit longer than good drama warranted.
"For the gods sake, Fari, Manacia shouted down from the elephant, cast the damned spell!"
Fari broke out of a delightful reverie in which Manacia and Luka were shrieking and turning on a spit over a slow fire.
"Immediately, Your Highness, he called back.
He threw a glass globe to the ground. It shattered, spilling a thick yellow liquid across the stone. The liquid began to bubble, then to smoke. A sulfurous cloud boiled up, rising high into the sky.
Then the cloud took on the shape of a gigantic King Manacia. Huge lips parted, baring fangs of tremendous length.
"ONWARD, MY FIENDS, ONWARD! roared the gigantic Manacia. FOR THE GODS AND THE KING!"
"FOR THE GODS AND THE KING! a half a million voices shouted in reply.
The whole army lurched forward, shattering the air with war cries.
The elephant handlers had to give the king's animal several sharp jabs to get it moving fast enough so Manacia wasn't overrun. But in a few minutes all clumsiness was gone and the massive army clattered out onto the Forbidden Desert, an immense juggernaut aimed at the humanlands.
Far out in front Luka and his ten thousand elite were speeding over the badlands, battle cries ululating through the thin air. Within moments they'd reached the high dunes that marked the horizon's edge.
Then they vanished from view.
****
Despite his inner feelings, Luka was an able commander. Although he drove his fiends hard, he drove himself even harder and it wasn't long before the ten thousand thundered out of the Forbidden Desert and entered the humanlands.