Tyrant Trouble

by Phoebe Matthews

CHAPTER 7

  Could have used a wrist watch, but I’d forgotten that right along with a compass. So I was stuck keeping time by the position of the sun.

  When the sun rose halfway towards the midpoint Kovat the Slayer began his treacherous game, pitting my astrology against the tricks of the magician.

  His fur-draped chair on its platform was now placed at the center of the dusty castle courtyard. Tarvik stood slightly behind the chair. The castle dog lounged to one side, still looking as sleepy and disinterested as it had the previous night. If it was a watch dog, I had yet to see it actually watch anything. It glanced briefly at us when we entered, then settled back into a motionless heap of rather patchy fur and closed eyes.

  Nance and I faced Kovat. In the morning shadow by the wall I saw the magician of Thunder, a sinewy old man in a ragged cloak, with white hair straggling down across his chin. Nance had told me the eyes of the magicians contained evil powers believed to cast spells on one's mind. Did these magicians practice hypnosis? I kept my gaze on Kovat, on his son, on the ground, anywhere else at all.

  When the magician and I stood in front of Kovat, he said, “I will ask questions of you both, questions to which none but I know the answer. Prepare whatever it is you do.”

  With a smug smile twisting his mouth, Kovat relaxed back into his chair. He wore a sleeveless leather tunic held together with dark brown laces that crisscrossed the deep scars on his chest. His boots were fur. His arms were covered with gold bands and over his shoulder draped a fur cape.

  Through half-closed eyes he watched us as though he expected us to put on a fancy performance.

  Unfortunately for me, I had no such tricks to offer. However, when Nance told me we would be outside to allow the magician to build a fire, I knew charcoal wouldn't work. Besides, getting down to draw on the floor was a disadvantage, I mean, how impressive would I look on my hands and knees, my butt in the air?

  With a long pointed stick that I'd brought with me, I remained standing and drew in the bare earth the chart for the time of Kovat's birth, with the sun and Aries at the midheaven and the slower planets in their locations for that day twenty days past the Equinox thirty-nine years ago come next spring. Saturn was in Kovat's House of Destiny with a negative aspect to Neptune in the House of Death. Uranus was in the House of Love, unaffected by aspects.

  Jupiter ruled Kovat's wealth in Tarvik's constellation. I didn't know the exact degree but it was clear that Kovat valued his son above all else. Okay, I didn't have to worry about Tarvik at his father's hands. Unfortunately, there was no such assurance for Nance or myself. Beyond that, Kovat's was the horoscope of a man who chose his own fate rather than fate choosing him.

  While I worked silently, the magician muttered and coughed and fumbled with a pile of twigs, building a small, smoky fire a short space away from my circle.

  Ignoring him, I reached into my pocket and the pebbles that I had painted with Nance's make-up, each a color to match a planet, yellow for Mercury, white for Venus, red for Mars, blue for Jupiter, green for Saturn, speckled for Uranus and lavender for Neptune. I had also dug out a penny and a dime from the bottom of my backpack. Why not a penny sun? Without proper writing implements, it worked for me. Maybe believers wouldn't think it appropriate that the lowest value coin represented their Sun god, but they weren't going to be told the value of a penny.

  I had to crouch down to arrange the stones and coins outside of Kovat's chart, where they represented the placement of the planets in the sky at the exact time on this day. I managed to crouch without falling over, and the long robe kind of added class. Then I straightened and looked up at the man.

  Okay, I was missing Merc, Venus, Mars and the moon inside the circle of his horoscope, but I knew where they were today.

  When I stepped back from the chart, Kovat growled, “What is that you have drawn?”

  “Your horoscope.”

  “My what?”

  Right. “Your magic circle. The inner circle shows the placement of the stars at the hour of your birth. The pebbles outside the circle show the placement of the stars now.”

  I didn't bother with the word planets. To him they were all stars, and I was trying to convince him that one, he was wise, and two, I was knowledgeable.

  He leaned forward in his chair and peered first at my circle and then at the magician's fire.

  “Well enough. Tell me this, magician, if you can. How did I get this scar below my knee?”

  Questions about battles and conquests had all occurred to me, because I've gone to way too many swashbuckler films, but I gotta confess, I never once considered the possibility of a question about Kovat's knee. I hoped he would not expect us to identify every scar, as his arms and legs were covered with them and as for his face, couldn't guess how it had started out. If the chill that stiffened my spine also touched the magician, he did not let it cause his voice to falter.

  “Tell us, oh god of Thunder,” he chanted, while reaching into the folds of his long tunic, “of the injury to the knee of mighty Kovat.” From between his fingers he dropped yellow dust that hissed at the fire's edge and sent up a sudden, evil-smelling yellow cloud. Peering into the cloud as though it were a scroll to be read, he muttered, “The knee of mighty Kovat, ruler of rulers, overlord of all the lands, I see there the scar and a sword and a great battle, oh Kovat.”

  The corners of Kovat's mouth remained curled. “And you, Stargazer?”

  Was the old man right? Any fool would guess a scar on Kovat was the result of battle. Was that why he asked, to lead us into a trap?

  I said, “The stars move in patterns across the sky. They show our fates. Their meaning is different for each person. To even begin to guess at the cause of your injury, I need to know the day on which it occurred.”

  His laugh was uglier than his smile. “Very cleverly said, Stargazer. I think I will not waste a childhood scar from a broken toy on you. Tell me this, you who play with words and stars. In my seventeenth year, when I was younger than my son is now, was an event of some importance to me. Do your circles and pebbles show it?”

  His seventeenth year. I bent over the circle and seeing nothing there, I used a trick that sometimes works. I moved the sun of his birth time forward a degree in his horoscope for each of the seventeen years. Oh. Even without knowing where Venus was, I could see well enough that in Kovat’s seventeenth year the planet Uranus had opposed his heart, which was represented by the sun. Its message looked clear enough to me. Yeah, I was betting my life I was right.

  “You met a woman then and I think she became your mate.” I paused, unsure if I should continue.

  Tarvik would have been born three years later, so was it Tarvik's mother? Except, oh, she left him. Different woman.

  I rather thought he would tell me to cease, but instead Kovat stiffened, leaned forward, demanded, “Go on.”

  So toss me off a cliff now, because I couldn't think up a story that fast. That stuck me with what I saw and did he want me telling everyone?

  “When she left you, it changed the direction of your life,” I said.

  The sneer faded. From the folds of lines and scars on his face he stared out at me, his pale blue eyes dulled with memories he had not thought anyone could guess.

  All he said was, “Tell me of her, magician. I will waste no more than this second question on you.”

  Waving his hands at the fire, the magician caused the flames to shoot skyward, and a fountain of red sparks arched overhead. Although I didn't envy the old man, who obviously was no great whiz at fortune telling, I wished I knew the secret of his ability to control flames. I'd been stuck in a few situations where such a trick would have been useful. Like in the back alley behind the dumpster.

  “Oh mighty leader, Thunder blesses your armies and sends strength to your great heart and success to all your ventures through the constant prayers of myself. And though my god may not always hand me, a faithful servant, the answer to every question -”

 
Kovat rose to his feet and roared, “Answer me, you tottering fool, or I shall return you at once to your god!”

  The shaking magician peered into his flames. “She was beautiful, my ruler. I see her face in the flames, a face of perfection and a heart to match, a kind and gentle woman, young, comely, graceful -”

  “What other type of woman would I choose?” Kovat growled.

  “She was fair, yes, fair, small, graceful hands, the god of Thunder admires her purity of heart, my lord -”

  “Cease.” One word. I knew and the magician knew. If that word did no more than toss him into a dungeon for all eternity, he was probably lucky. “You tell me, Stargazer.”

  “I can't tell the color of her hair,” I said. “That would depend on the coloring of her people, not on her stars.”

  I looked again at his signature. The current placement of Venus aspected his progressed sun in his seventeenth year. And then I saw a pattern that isn’t in any astrology guidebook. That little glimmer of Mudflat magic, inherited from my grandmother, kicked in.

  I said slowly, “I don't have her chart, but if I must guess at it from yours, it seems likely her moon or sun and a powerful star shone through, uh, here, tell me what this is.”

  I drew the pattern of the stars of Taurus on the ground for him.

  “The Silver Horns,” he said.

  Yes, indeed, the symbol for the bull was its horns.

  I said, “I think she was perhaps stubborn and although she was slow to anger, once angered she was slower to forgive.”

  His eyes closed. He leaned back in his chair. That his scarred face, hardened by a lifetime of battles, could register such pain amazed me. Whoever she was, she must have stomped all over his heart.

  Slowly he said, “Enough, Stargazer. I am satisfied with your magic to see my past. Are you as able to see my future?”

  “That is what I expected you to ask, not questions about your knee.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

  His eyes popped open. Would he laugh or run his sword through me? Behind him, Tarvik's eyes widened and his face went so pale, the line of freckles across his nose stood out.

  Kovat leaned forward in his chair and said, “Very well, woman, tell me this. My recent journey to scout new routes leads me to think I have found a way to conquer the followers of Thunder. What can your stars tell me of my success?”

  Walking slowly around the chart, I compared the planets of his birth with their current positions. For a battle forecast I needed the placement of Mars in his birth horoscope, but I didn't have it. Still, I knew where Mars was today, favoring his sun but casting unfortunate aspects on his future. A victory was possible if he reached the battleground before the next full moon. I could see victory for his army, but I could not see the exact fate of Kovat. I told him so.

  “Where my armies conquer, I rule,” he said.

  “I do not see your rule extended into other lands.”

  “But you do see my armies victorious?”

  “Yes. And I see a lot of blood, pain and death.”

  “With my army or with my enemies?”

  So much death answered his question in the positions of the pebbles, I felt sick. “Does that matter? Why bring death to so many when you could remain here in peace?”

  Behind me I heard Nance whisper, “Take care.”

  Tarvik's rigid posture echoed her fear.

  Easy for them, they only heard the danger for themselves. For me it wasn't that simple. Occasionally, when a chart displays extremes of emotion, I glimpse a scene. A small scrap of genetic magic that I didn't want or need. But that's what I got, and my gut ached, because for a few seconds it was like looking at the wide screen version, bright color, masses of writhing bodies on a battlefield. Worse than a battlefield.

  There were warriors everywhere, pushing their way between village huts, slashing paths clear, broadswords swinging. None seemed to notice what they struck and they were hitting children, old people, and parents trying to wrap themselves around babies to protect them with their own bodies. God, those swords were evil, hacking through anything, blood flying, unarmed people falling, villagers, I supposed, and all that saved me from passing out was that I could only see the scene, not hear the screams from all those dying faces.

  And then I was back in the courtyard, listening to the devil himself.

  “I respect this star magic that gives you so many answers, although I do not understand it. But you, Stargazer, are of no importance to me and I do not want your opinions, do you hear me?”

  So even in La-La Land, tyranny ruled.

  The scruffy dog lifted its head and studied me through narrowed eyes as though it knew I talked too much. Ah, it must be a tone in Kovat's voice, I thought, something the dog recognizes as a danger signal. Clever dog. Stupid me.

  I shut up. No knowledge from my charts or mind would please a madman.

  “Is this all you can say, that my victory depends on a battle fought before the full moon?”

  I did not look again at the horoscope on the ground. If any further guidance lay there for this warrior who gloried in destruction, I wasn't going to search for it. Years of reading horoscopes had taught me when to quit. With great effort, I kept my voice steady. “I have told you all I have seen.”

  “Well enough, Stargazer. When I return victorious, I will bring with me a crown of a warlord of Thunder and you shall have it as your prize. If you wish, I will also bring his severed head.” That sounded like a line from some sick fairy tale. He leaned toward me, whipped out his sword and jammed its point into the earth inches from the end of my toes. Guess it was lucky I was still so numb from the vision I didn't flinch. He liked that. His smile bared jagged teeth. “But if my armies suffer great loss and I cannot capture a crown, it will not matter to you. You will have no head on which to wear it.”

  I lacked the courage to say, “Mister, blood soaked crowns are not my idea of what Santa brings.”

  Didn't say it, but I thought it.

  I mean, up to now my definition of a tyrant was Darryl Decko, but oh man, he’d never decapitate anybody. Now that I’d met Kovat the word tyrant had a whole new meaning.

  That night when Tarvik did his bang-on-the-gate, I greeted him with a question.

  “After your father beheads me, who will you pester in the evenings?”

  He walked around me to the fire, stood with his back to me and poked at the embers with the toe of his boot. Dark oiled leather, no scuffs, live-in-a-castle boots. I guess that meant he had servants with strong hands and sheepskin polishing cloths. I used to find his clothes entertaining. Now I knew that every piece of gold was bought with the death of innocents, and that the slave who polished the boots was probably the last remaining member of his family and had had the pleasure of watching them murdered. Somehow silk tunics and tooled belts and rings and things became that cliché of “lost their luster.”

  His head shook slowly back and forth, as though he was arguing with himself. I waited. When he finally turned to face me, there was something close to fear in his expression.

  “That won't happen.”

  “Right, you will stand courageously in front of me like a big letter T with your back to me and your arms held out and tell your father that he has to chop you down first before he can reach me.”

  “What?”

  “It's from one of those hero stories. This famous warrior defied a god or something.”

  “Tell me the story.”

  “Sorry, I don't remember how it ended, probably with both of them dead.”

  “I don't like that ending. Let's talk about something else. I know. Those pebbles you use with your circles, are they magic?”

  We sat down by the fire and I pulled the pebbles out of my pocket and spread them around on the ground. “Touch them if you dare.”

  He looked at me through narrowed eyelids, then at the pebbles. Reaching out, he stirred them around with a fingertip, then picked them up one at a time to center in
his palm and study. “Pebbles. Plain old pebbles. Different colors. Paint?”

  “The stuff Nance uses on our faces.”

  “How can pebbles give you messages?”

  “Okay. Each pebble represents a planet. That's a moving star.”

  “All stars move across the sky at night.”

  “Yes, but they move together in a pattern, always staying the same distance from each other. The ones we call planets do not remain in the pattern. Each moves by itself across the sky at its own pace so that through the seasons and the years it will pass through the twelve constellations of the zodiac, uh, that's the path the sun follows.”

  “Which is which?” he asked, peering down at the pebbles he held in his upturned right hand.

  When I touched his left hand, he turned it palm up also. I picked up the white pebble from his right palm and moved it to the left one, and when my fingertips touched his hand he looked at me, his eyes glowing in the firelight.

  Perhaps not the best place to start, but I did not know how to backtrack. “That's Venus, the brightest star in the sky. It stays near the sun and it represents love.”

  “Yes, I have seen it. I did not know it had a name.”

  Moving the yellow pebble, I said, “That one represents Mercury, a sign of wisdom. It travels so close to the sun it's difficult to see, but we keep track of it and know where it is.”

  “How can you do that if you cannot see it?”

  Explain telescopes? Right after I explained that the earth was round and men really had gone to the moon. Okay, off to Disneyland and the wicked stepmother. “We have a magic mirror that we look through and it shows many of the sky's secrets.”

  “So you do know magic.”

  I moved the red pebble from his right palm to his left. “This is Mars. It causes accidents and violence and I think it must be strong in a warlord's magic circle.”

  “If you know magic,” he said, watching me with that intense look that tightened his face and worried me a bit, “you can use it to save yourself, can't you?”

  If Kovat lost his battle but returned alive, I rather suspected I would need something stronger than magic. The only way a telescope would help me was if I could use one to hit him over the head.

  “Jupiter is this large blue stone and it brings fortune and happiness. The green stone is Saturn. It can be both killer and healer.”

  “If you know magic, use it,” he said softly.

  “Tarvik, are you paying attention to what I am telling you?” I scolded.

  “Go on, tell me the rest.”

  “This speckled pebble represents Uranus, which brings change and confusion. And last is Neptune.” I settled the lavender stone in his right hand. Was this place landlocked? “Have you ever been to the seashore?”

  “What's that?”

  “The ocean. Water farther than you can see, past the horizon, big waves breaking?”

  “No. You're making that up.” He looked down at the two metal pieces still resting on his left palm, the dime and the penny. “Then these bits must be the moon and the sun. Is there a story about each star?”

  “Oh you! Yes, there is a story about practically every star in the sky and I cannot possibly tell them all to you.”

  He tilted his hands so the pebbles slid out on the ground and then he plucked the white one up, holding it between thumb and forefinger. “Tell me the story of this one. Did you see it in my father's circle? The woman you mentioned. My mother did not leave him, so the woman you said he loved cannot have been my mother. Are you saying he did not love my mother?”

  I did wish Kovat had told me to stop a bit earlier. What else was Tarvik to think? Very well, I would make a few guesses because who knew, if I could have all the planets in their right positions for Kovat’s chart, perhaps I would have different answers.

  I said, “I think your father had a first love that ended in heartbreak. Don't we all? But hearts mend and your mother was his true love.”

  “Do you think so?” He looked so troubled, I felt a bit of pity for this spoiled boy, not a lot, but a touch. “My mother wasn't elf, well, perhaps a small bit. My father's mother was elf, you know.”

  Well, strike me with a lightning bolt. “Elf? You had a grandmother who was really an elf? What did she look like?”

  “I don't know, never saw her. She left my grandfather right after my father was born. Elf women do that, run away. That's why I wonder if the woman you saw in his past was an elf.”

  “Why would she be?”

  He shrugged, drew lines in the dry earth with a finger tip, then said slowly, “Elves are magic. The men never come down the mountain, but sometimes the women go looking for herbs and wander too far away. And get captured.”

  “Your grandfather captured your grandmother? So was she a slave, then?”

  “No. She was his wife. But she left him. Elf wives always leave.”

  “She left her baby?”

  “She couldn't take it back. The elf men wouldn't keep a halfling.”

  That was all very entertaining, as good a fairy tale as I'd heard. I didn't know what to think. “So you think Kovat is half elf and his first love was an elf woman.”

  “I know he's half elf. I don't know about the woman, but once he told me never to try to catch an elf woman because she could enchant me.”

  Huh. All right, high in the mountains there was another tribe and their women were irresistible. I could buy that, but more than that, those women weren't about to stay captured. That would explain the runaway wife and the runaway lover.

  Maybe that idea wasn't much consolation to Tarvik.

  Kovat's chart clearly showed his love for Tarvik. Good enough for us stargazers who sometimes have to soften truth. “I saw his greatest love in his chart and it wasn't that first love.”

  “Did this Venus star show you my mother? Tell me its story.”

  The story of Venus? Don't think so.

  “I'm way too tired to tell you more tonight. Another time, if you can remember the names of all the pebbles, I'll tell you some of their stories.”

  By then I'd have thought up a story about Venus that didn't feature hormones.

  After placing the Venus pebble among the others, he grinned at me. “You think I will forget. You are wrong. I will remember their names and I will remember you owe me a story for each of them.”

  He stood in one fluid motion, then reached down and held out his hand and pulled me to my feet. When he reached the gate he did what I now thought of as his Tarvik parting gesture. He opened the gate, stepped out, then leaned back through the opening. “Stargazer, I like stories with happy endings.”

  So now he wanted me, who could not control my own life, to change the stories of the planets themselves. Right, and happy ending or not, my boy, I wasn't about to serve up a nudie Venus on a mythological half-shell. When we got around to that story, the babe was going to be a dowdy woman in a spotted apron whose favorite hobby was cookie baking.