“You remember that you once told Tiana that you did not mind being a slave, that it was better than many alternatives you could think of, and that it was honorable and necessary work,” he continued. “As the truth that you are truly Mia comes to you, you will remember that and believe it all the more. You are proud of being the slave of the greatest of Husaquahr. To serve such a noble one in such a noble cause fills your heart with joy. To be a slave on such a great quest and perhaps aid in its outcome gives you pride, meaning. In a crisis, when you are needed, you will do as Tiana would have done, had you truly been her.
“These things will not come upon you all at once when I let you go, but you will suspect them, feel their truth deep down, and, over the next few days, you will know and understand all of them and it will actually make you happy to know that you are truly Mia, the best and luckiest slave girl in all Husaquahr.”
Once she made that leap, and truly believed that she was Mia and had never been Tiana or anyone else, her mind would sort itself out. All pretenses of Tiana, including particularly the pride and her sense of shame, would go as well. She would accept herself entirely as Mia; her whole ego would be redirected.
He raised his hand and she suddenly came awake.
“I am sorry, my lord! I did not see you there!” she said.
“That’s all right, Mia. My fault entirely. Go wherever you were going. You’ve got a big day coming tomorrow.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she said, doing the partial bow and slight knee bend and then continuing on her way. She was glad that he didn’t need her for anything and that she had no more duties for now. She was all mixed up in her mind and she needed to sort things out, and dancing really helped do that.
Ruddygore watched her go, then reached into his robe and took out a huge old gold-encased pocket watch with Great Western Railway, Ltd. written upon its face. He flipped it open and saw that it was just after nine. So much meddling to do, so little time…
He caught Joe just as he was coming up the stairs from the armory area and had him in the same sort of trance in seconds.
“Joe, what I’m going to tell you is true and you will believe it is true.” Quickly he sketched much the same scenario as he had for Tiana. “You will not know this immediately, but will come to suspect it, and she will finally tell you, if you ask her,” he concluded, spelling out a few of the implications.
Joe, too, would not remember the encounter nor the conversation, but by the time he had his beard he would believe it, and he’d interact with her accordingly. Not as his former wife and love, but as this little slave he’ll now vaguely remember. She would then go from being someone he still considered his equal and for whom he retained, no matter what, some real love, to a near total stranger, and a masquerader, however unconsciously, at that. He would still never consider selling her; the sorcerer had seen to that. But the master-slave status would be absolute, convincing, and believed and accepted by both.
If, of course, Marge didn’t screw it up.
Marge was late, but only by a few minutes. Ruddygore had anticipated it, but also knew she could go out afterward, and that, while it took some time to walk or ride to the town, she could fly it rather quickly.
Joe was already there, looking over a map with Ruddygore and Poquah.
“I’d head north across the Plain of Shadows,” the Imir, a military advisor at this meeting, told them. “Cross into Vali-sandra, which our reports say is not under Sugasto directly but is scared enough of him that he essentially has them neutralized and in no way interfering. Trust no one, rely on your cover story. You really did fight at the Battle of Sorrow’s Gorge, and you truly do have the sort of experience you will be claiming, including a knowledge of the Dark Baron no one who hadn’t met him and been with him for a stretch would have. As a mercenary among so vast an army, there is no one who could tell that you were on the other side.”
He nodded. “I like that. I particularly like using the Dark Baron, curse his seemingly indestructible soul, as a way in. It’s justice, somehow.”
“So long as the Baron doesn’t actually show up,” Marge pointed out. “For sure, he wouldn’t know or remember you at all, and it would take him about an hour mentally to undo the disguise and finger you. And if he fingers you, we’re all undone.”
Ruddygore sighed. “I hesitate to say that the odds of you two meeting the Baron again are one in a billion because I know damned well that your destiny has been entwined with his and what the implications of that really are. The only thing I can say is, you Ve both been in his clutches before and you Ve both beaten him more than once. If it’s his destiny to find you, then it’s yours to keep screwing him up. Frankly, after all the previous adventures, if I were the Dark Baron, and J figured out who you were, I’d run like hell.”
“But he won’t,” Marge noted. “And there’s a question of how many times we can screw up that kind of power and not pay a real price for it. I know how this crazy place works now. Somewhere down the pike there’s a cashier we don’t want to meet.”
Joe looked up from the map at her. “Cold feet? Sorry you came now?”
“Cold feet, yes. Sorry, no. Not yet, anyway. Hey, what’s the fun of being in a world of swordplay and sorcery if you can’t have thrills once in a while? Besides, I really want to get this bastard. I’ve owed Sugasto a knife in the back since that first business with the Lamp. Now it turns out that the slimy, double-crossing weasel is the Master of the Dead and that he’s gonna make a grab for the whole ball of wax. Uh-uh. We Kauris make love, not war, but we Texans have a different idea!”
“Bravo! Well said,” Ruddygore approved. “Remember the Alamo and all that!”
She looked up sharply at him. “Everybody died at the Alamo and the bad guy won. No, remember San Jacinto, and Santa Ana found skulking under a bridge disguised as a peasant. Oh, no. I’d rather be a live Houston than a dead Bowie.”
“Point taken,” the sorcerer responded a bit apologetically. “I’m not totally versed in the fine details of the history of your native lands.”
“At any rate,” Poquah said with some irritation, “I’d use Valisandra to find out all you can about the conditions and situation in Hypboreya. Cross when you have to or when the door of opportunity opens, not before. Get an invitation. You might well have to prove yourself to do it, but be resourceful.”
“And the bodies?”
“Here, beyond the Golden Lakes, in this somewhat blank expanse known as the Cold Wastes,” Ruddygore answered. “It’s vast and glacial, and this region is essentially uninhabited. This area here, in the shading, was the site of a mammoth battle of ancient times, the times of heroes and legends. It’s sixty miles across and your most dangerous area, since that war threatened the very existence and stability of Husaquahr. There is a legend that the powers of Heaven and Hell convened while it raged, and decided that it was so terrible a thing and had such a disastrous potential, that they agreed to halt it, freezing the entire battle and both forces, from great sorcerers to majestic warriors and fairy kings of old. There they allegedly remain to this day, under the ice. People are scared to cross it because they believe that they’re still somehow alive down there and can influence those who come near.”
Joe looked him in the eye. “Is it true?”
Ruddygore shrugged. “I haven’t the vaguest idea, but it sounds wild enough and the story has lasted long enough to have at least a grain of truth in it. Just beyond is this area, an oddity caused by volcanic activity. It’s warm and lush and essentially inaccessible. It’s where all the royalty of Hypboreya is crowned and is their retreat and fortress. Now, if you were Sugasto, and you now ruled Hypboreya absolutely with the royals as mere puppets and virtual prisoners and you had two bodies that would be instantly recognizable throughout Husaquahr and you couldn’t blow your plot or their existence until you were ready to unveil them, where would you put them? Where would you train them? Almost any other place you can think of on this continent risks premature expos
ure, and then you’d have armies marching on them with religious fervor to free their captive deities from the clutches of Hell. Any other continent would remove his trump cards too far from easy access. No, they’re there.”
“You’re sure they actually exist?” Marge asked him.
“Now I am. It was hard-won information, I assure you. I actually had to free a demon who was bound to me indefinitely to get it.”
Joe frowned. “Then that means Sugasto’s probably been tipped that you know. Oh, boy!”
“We have to assume it. At least, a few days ago the word started going out to find and capture you and Tiana at any cost and offering any reward. You can see why I’m so paranoid about you avoiding all detection. The fact is, though, they’ll soon be combing every home and tree for you down here, while you’ll be up there. That is one reason I decided that it might as well be you that goes for it. That, of course, and the fact that you have the long-standing grudge and are the best qualified. And you alone really have the right to do what must be done. Remember, the Rules bind bodies, not souls, as we all know. Higher law applies in that area. Even though the souls are wrong, the bodies stolen, this is still regicide.”
He had a point. If Ti was a slave because her body said she was, and he was a warrior-mercenary for the same reason, then whoever was Tiana’s body really was a highborn, qualified to be a monarch! As was the guy wearing his old body, by right of marriage and deed.
“He’ll think of that, too,” Joe pointed out. “And he’ll know that nobody entitled to ice them is capable of it, except us.”
“Sugasto won’t think of it,” Ruddygore said. “He’s always been sloppy on that sort of detail.”
“But the Dark Baron would think of it,” Marge noted.
“Yes, he would. But, remember, the Baron betrayed him the last time they formed an alliance. I feel certain that Sugasto would never trust the Baron again. Not on equal terms, anyway. Can you imagine Esmilio willing to subordinate anything, let alone something as monumental as this, to anyone?”
“He’d be plotting to overthrow the little twerp and take over this operation himself,” Marge agreed. “Okay. Point granted. But I still don’t like him loose.”
Joe yawned. “I think we pretty well have what we can get at this point. I’d better get some sleep if I want to make any time tomorrow.”
“Yes, Joe, good-night,” Ruddygore said in a clear dismissal.
“I’m heading back for town,” Marge told them. “Joe can protect me tomorrow morning!”
Ruddygore caught her eye and gestured for her to linger. She understood, nodding, and they wrapped up everything. First Joe, then Poquah, left. Marge went over and closed the door behind them, then turned to the sorcerer. “So what’s the conspiracy?”
“No conspiracy—now. I’m afraid I’ve just had to undo one in a good cause. What would you say if I told you that Mia is not Tiana? That Tiana actually died at the hands of the Baron back on Earth?”
“I’d say you were feeding me baloney to try and keep Joe and me from being pissed off at the destruction of one of the neatest women this world ever produced.”
He sighed. “I can prove it to you rather simply. Tiana could read Husaquahrian. Not merely the formal language, but many of its dialects and several other languages as well. She also was schooled, as you may remember, in Switzerland. She spoke, read, and wrote German, French, and Italian with ease and English rather well, too. Mia is totally illiterate now in any tongue, has a reasonable speaking knowledge of English because that was supplied in the plot, but none of the other languages, and she can’t really read English, either.”
“Big deal. The Rules account for that.”
“No they don’t. Ask anyone. Not just my staff, anyone. Marge, there is no Rule prohibiting slaves from learning to read or write. Some, although not very many, can. And Mia was illiterate from the start—she couldn’t handle looking up the relevant passages on herself shortly after they returned here, long before even the Rules would have wiped it out, if such Rules existed. Mia doesn’t know how to read or write or any of those other languages or an awful lot that Tiana knew because Mia is not Tiana, she is really Mia, a former palace slave to Tiana.” Quickly, he sketched in the same scenario that he’d given to an unknowing Mia and Joe.
“Wait a minute! She sure as hell seemed like Tiana to me back on Earth, and she sure convinced Joe!”
“I know. I’m afraid I was partly responsible format. I spotted it right away, of course, and in the course of removing the Baron’s nasty little time bombs inside her, I realized that she could pull it off, allowing for the nature of Husaquahr and the Rules. I warned at the start that she’d be a dancer or courtesan, the former usually and the latter always slave jobs. I knew even then that the moment she returned to Husaquahr the Rules would take the path of least resistance and return her to her former status. Everything else they would blame on the Rules. Even she thought she was Tiana, and I helped that out a bit. Joe needed the time, he needed Tiana, for the wilderness period with Ir-ving. Now I have started the unraveling. Within a few days, a week at most, both she and Joe will realize the truth.”
“But—why!”
“Because at this point Tiana is the last person Joe needs. Not merely to avoid slipups, but suppose they do have a chance at the bodies? Could Joe really destroy the body of his wife, the woman he loved? Could she! There was no other choice. I’ve been letting it come off in stages, and I held off the full impact of the Rules with her as long as possible, but what was once a positive is now a negative. She is a very bright, talented, capable woman who is still an asset. But she is not the one anyone, even she, thought she was.”
“Wow! If you’re not pulling another of your scams, that’s heavy stuff!”
“Marge, I am not. I just wanted you to know ahead of time. It will make things easier later.”
“Yeah, well… Wow!”
“Remember, too, by the way, that she’s still a were. They both are. Joe saw to that. They had it on the road. I understand that Irving was, in his vernacular, pretty ‘freaked out.’ That’s an occasional problem, but, as you know, a valuable tool if used.
Keep it in mind. Joe will have enough to handle, so I’m counting on you as guide and adviser.”
She nodded, still stunned. “Yeah, I’ll do what I can, as always. Still, I said we couldn’t get away with it forever. Now you’re telling me that Ti’s paid the bill, and Joe’s got his own curse down the pike. Why does that make me feel like target number one in this business?”
Ruddygore shrugged. “These things pile up over time, but things like that are not inevitable. You have the same odds now you always did. You know about Joe, then?”
She nodded. “He told me. I guess he had to tell somebody.”
“Well, he might not have told you that, if and when it happens, he wouldn’t lose his mind and his memory any more than you did. It’s not as bad as that. It won’t be like the last time.”
“Yeah, but a big macho male stuck as a wood nymph isn’t gonna have a happy time. At least he’ll do damned near anything to stay alive as he is.”
“But that is also his Achilles’ heel. He might hold back, he might hesitate when he should strike. That’s another thing to watch out for.”
“Boy, you’re really loading the dice on this one, aren’t you?” she said glumly. “And, it seems to me, you’re loading it against your own side.”
CHAPTER 7
ON THE ROAD AGAIN
Places shall take on the atmosphere and attitude of their rulers. Evil pervades the very rocks and trees and air where it resides. And, if allowed to fester, killing the good, it will remain so long after the rulers have departed.
—The Books of Rules, III, 97(a)
Saying farewell to Irving was gut-wrenching, but joe at least had the honest conviction that the boy had not been in better hands in his life.
They were barely out of sight of Terindell, though, taking the northern river route, when he reali
zed how much he missed the rest of the old company and how, for the first time, really, on one of these missions, he was essentially alone. If it weren’t for Marge’s happy appearance, he thought, it might drive him nuts, but the Kauri wasn’t any company to speak of during the day. Instead, she just sprawled out on top of the bedrolls on the packhorse, sound asleep, mostly concealed under a thin wrap so that the sight of one of the fairies out cold didn’t attract too many curious stares or, worse, give the wrong impression.
The road went almost immediately inland, skirting places like the Circe’s lair and the Glen Dinig, domain of the great witch-queen Huspeth, heading first to the city of Machang on the River Rossignol, from whence roads went in all directions.
Joe missed most of all the company of the old Tiana, who had been more than wife, but also companion and equal, lover and confessor. The change in her had bothered him about as much as it had seemed to bother her, and now he couldn’t keep from wondering just how much of a change there was and how much he’d overlooked. Even in the months in the High Pothique wilderness, he’d been preoccupied with Irving and had tended to overtook things that now seemed to leap out at him. He’d blamed much of it on the Rules, of course, but now other things started bothering him. How had she learned to dance so well so quickly? Even he had needed to be trained by Gorodo; only the fairies got their skills by instinct. The fact that he was inclined to enjoy swordplay and combat skills hadn’t meant he hadn’t had to learn them and practice, practice, practice. Tiana had always been clumsy, even at formal dances; who had taught her those erotic moves and gyrations? For that matter, she’d lately shown some skill as a seamstress, barber, maid, and other such jobs that she’d never shown any knowledge of or interest in before.
The Baron had Tiana briefly on Earth, hadn’t he?
The thought came almost immediately, and he could not get it out of his head. What if this girl really wasn’t Tiana at all?
Songs of the Dancing Gods dg-4 Page 15