The Warrior Returns - Anteros 04

by Allan Cole

  "All I do is gives 'em a bump," Palmer said to me, giggling. "I falls to the street wi' me best maidenly shriek. But makin' sure, yer knows, that I flashes more'n a maiden oughter. An' when they help me up, I makes sure they gets a good grab of me tit."

  She winked at me. "It's a fact," she said, "that men got less brains'n women. Let 'em get a holt of a tit and they lose half of that."

  Lammer groaned in mock protest. He'd heard this before.

  "If I didn't get his purse when I bumped him," Palmer went on, ignoring him, "I gets it fer sure then. What with that spell you give us, they melts in their toes, they do. Dust me off. Feel me up. Try to buy me a little grog to make up fer the accident."

  "Whilst she's plyin' her womanly wiles," Lammer broke in, "I rubs the amulet you give us. Say the verse, which I don't understand, but it works so good, who cares? 'N' they go goggle-glirnmed 'n' almost ferget their names. Palmer hikes me the purse 'n' I'm off lickety-split wi' no one the wiser."

  Palmer slipped a small hand inside her bcdice, which was cut just low enough to weaken her prey but high enough to retain her waif-maiden pose. She drew out two sheets of folded paper.

  "Someone'll be missin' these real bad about now," she said as she handed them over. "Got 'em off a squint not two hours ago. Bumped into him wi'out really lookin' at his face first. Careless of me, but tha' spell you give me's made things so easy, I'm formin' bad habits." She snorted in disgust with herself. She had a reputation to maintain.

  "Anywise, I got his purse like I always do, and the squint's got his glims down me dress an' his hands are comin' up the other way, dustin' me off. Soon as I saw who he was, I got away 'mos' as quick as Lammer."

  "It was Calin, it was," Lammer broke in. "Chief peery of the Central Market. Makes him the biggest peery in Orissa. Had those inky bits in his purse."

  I hastened to open the papers. These were the documents of the Central Market's master spy.

  The first was a list of names in a small cribbed hand. There were numbers beside the names: money amounts.

  'That's a list of all a the peeries in Central Market," Palmer said, teeth glittering. " 'N' their pay. That's what old Calin was doin'. Handing out their money and collectin' the news."

  "From the fat purse we took off a him," Lammer said, "he didn't get too far today."

  I opened the next. It was in an official hand and bore the seal of the Lyre Bird. The document swore that the holder was in the employ of the Goddess Novari and was not to be detained from her business in any way.

  "Tha's a pass for the peeries," Palmer said. "Show it to a soldier 'n' they let 'em go."

  "Now that was a good day's work," I said. "And you can be sure just the right person will get each one."

  I gave the list of names to Queenie. And within two days all the spies in the Central Market were gone. Her thugs did such a clean job of it, there wasn't a speck of blood or blurted cry to alarm anyone. Vanishing without a trace.

  The second item I used in a duplication spell, creating scores of documents for Pip to hand out tov his men and women. And by and by our own peeries were passing through the enemy's defenses like whey through cheesecloth.

  I also made potions for the harlots, which they used to spice the wine they gave their marks to put them at ease. The potion made them randy as goats and babbling fools glad to burble secrets into the harlot's perfumed ears. It almost made them permanent customers: They became impotent except in the arms of their favorite whore.

  "We've got every whore's rocker in Cheapside bouncin' on its springs all night long," the beauteous Pearl said one day as she poured a sack of jewels and coins into an already overflowing oak chest.

  She shook the pouch to loosen a few small stubborn gems. Her lush body jiggled under the sheer wrap, a sensuous reminder of why she was Mistress of her guild.

  "Got all this from jus' one panter," she said. "Las' one of the night, thank the gods." She groaned and rubbed her back. "Bumped me till near dawn 'n' was beggin' for more when I threw him outter the carriage.

  "The panter said he loves on'y me and give me this." She indicated the pouch, then laughed. "Threw it back in his face and cursed him for bein' so tight-fisted wi' the woman he loves. But with that potion in him, he was whoreified through and through. Begged me to take it back and said he'd bring twice that tonight to make up for it."

  Then she sat, crossing her fine, long legs. "But I got more'n that panter's balls in my fist wi' that potion," she said. "He's one a Director Kato's diplomats. Likes to brag on how important he is whilst he's bumpin' my poor arse into the carriage seat. He told me a lot last night about the latest doin's wi' King Solaris."

  I jolted in my seat 'The King of Tyrenia?"

  "That's what the panter said," Pearl replied. "Seems old

  Solaris is gettin' real irate about what's goin' on here. Although from what the panter said, Solaris don't know the half of it. All he knows is Kato and Novari are keepin' all the stuff your brother and Janela Greycloak discovered to themselves.

  "Solaris says Orissa is violatin' the agreement he made with Amalric Antero. Which was that Orissa would share ever'thin' with all the kingdoms in this part of the world, whilst he did the same where he is. From what the panter said, Solaris is gettin' suspicious that Kato and Novari are makin' some kind a grab. That they'll take over ever'body near Orissa. Then maybe be so swell-noggined they'd try Tyrenia on for size."

  I turned to Pip, who was listening to all this closely. "That's not only a possibility," I said, "but I have no doubt this is ultimately Novari's plan. She'll want the whole thing. Not just half of it."

  Pip smiled. "I likes what I hears, I does," he said. "Maybe we'll gets some help from King Solaris. He's got a good honest heart, 'n' he won't like what's been done. Especially to you Anteros."

  "He's too far away, Pip," I gently reminded him. "It'd take him more than a year to march and sail any kind of force from the Kingdoms of the Night to Orissa. And it'll not only be too late for us, but probably for him. The Lyre Bird will be so powerful by then that he won't have a chance no matter how many soldiers he brings with him."

  Pip sighed. "That's true enough," he said. "But it makes old Pip feel better just the same. I'd a been sore diserappointed if King Solaris turned his back on us wi'out even tryin'."

  I felt the same way. And although help from afar was impossible, I was comforted by the knowledge that my brother's friend was thinking of us.

  I BOLSTERED THE wave of knavery with a series of fires aimed at the places the wealthy frequented, such as the fine costume and gem shops near the riverfront and the bathhouses and perfumeries near the Evocators' Palace. I used Queenie's thugs for this, supplying them with little balls of ordinary cotton wrapped about not so ordinary embers. All they had to do was put the cotton ball in a likely spot, find a hiding place—no more than twenty feet away, which was the tricky part—and chant a little spell I'd made them all memorize. The magical ember would burst into a ball of flame which would burn for hours no matter how much water or sand was thrown at it.

  Some days they hit so many targets the whole city was filled with columns of smoke and the sound of soldiers fighting the fires.

  While all this was going on, I kept waiting for Novari to show herself. If she did and by some wild chance I could get close to her, I might gamble all and strike at her openly.

  But she must have sensed something was awry because she even failed to appear at the annual End of Harvest festival. It was a very odd thing for the self-proclaimed new Goddess of Orissa to miss.

  It was just as well for her sake that she did, because Pip and I made that festival a bonus day for larceny and violence. We struck all over the city, setting fires, raiding homes, and generally creating a brief reign of terror in the wealthy neighborhoods. Kato was forced to cancel the ceremonies at the Amphitheater and rush soldiers into the neighborhoods. But by then we'd long disappeared into the warrens of the sewers.

  Several times I cast spells to seek her. I se
nt my spirit out in different forms to try to slip up on her unaware. Although her spoor was all about, I couldn't find her through the many layers of confusion she'd piled up to protect herself from just such a search. Each layer contained an alarm spell, which I got past easily enough. But it would've taken weeks to make it through the whole thing—and there was no assurance that in the end she'd actually be there. For the time being I gave up.

  I did learn something from the attempts. The confusion shield was not Novari's work alone. I'd sniffed the spoor of at least a score of Evocators who must have worked on it with her. I thought it was interesting that she'd tie up so many wizards she could've used against Palmeras for such a comparatively small purpose.

  It made me think of all the other sorcery being used. All the shields and spells and spell sniffers required to keep Orissa under her thumb. All the Evocators required to guard the highways and waterways from smugglers of sorcerous contraband.

  It seemed to me that the Lyre Bird's magical forces had been badly stretched even before I arrived. And I was pleased to know that since that time, I'd made her stretch her powers as tight as a sail in a gale-force wind.

  Very good. I had her going at breakneck speed.

  Now I needed to change her course. I had in mind a nice set of reefs.

  FINALLY THE DAY came when I could no longer delay pushing forward with the second and most important part of my plan.

  I asked Pip to gather his lieutenants, and once they were settled in his chamber—which was crammed even deeper with looted treasures—I rose to speak.

  I praised them for their efforts, taking care to address each woman or man and point up a particularly fine deed they'd done. And then when they were all full of good feeling, I said:

  "We've hit Novari and Kato hard, there's no doubt about iL And as you all know, this is just the beginning of the arse-kicking we've got planned for them."

  This produced loud cheers and many minutes of boasting about deeds yet to be accomplished. The thieves' cant was so thick I could barely decipher it, and what I could was so crude it makes me hesitate to translate further.

  When I thought they'd gone on long enough, I raised my golden hand and there was a hush.

  "Unfortunately," I said, "I can't stay here with you and see it out"

  There were shocked stares all around. "I have to get to Galana," I said. "I have to help them break the siege. Otherwise, none of this will work."

  "All a us knew this time was comin', Cap'n Antero," Pip said. "We jus' didn't know it'd come so soon. Like today, so soon."

  "There's something else," I said. "I need you to come with me, Pip."

  His first reaction was a grin the size of a giant's warship. He glanced around at his comrades, fairly lighting the chamber with his smile. I knew what he was thinking. He'd be on the road again, seeing whatever was to be seen. Free of all burdens except the immediate journey. Ah, Pip. He had the wanderlust as much as any Antero.

  Then he frowned as the full implications sunk in. "But Cap'n," he said, "old Pip can't leave his squints. He's got his responserbilities to think of. As King of Thieves."

  "I'll need the king of knaves more than anything else, Pip," I said. "Sorcery and knavery. We make a good pair. Come with me for a while. Get me to Galana. We'll see which way the stick floats. And then you can return to lead the final fight in Orissa."

  No one said a word or even raised a questioning eyebrow as Pip considered long and hard

  Then he turned to Garla. "Will yer run things till I get back?" he asked.

  The handsome beggar gave a slight bow. "It'd be an honor, Pip," he said "And don't worry. I'll play straight with everyone. See they get their fair share of the loot and glory."

  "Yer better," Pip growled, "or yer'll answer to old Pip."

  Then he looked around at the others. "Any objects?" he snarled. "If so, speak now. Or shut yer friggin' yammer fer ever more."

  There were none.

  "Well, Cap'n Antero," Pip said, "looks like yer got yerself a travelin' mate."

  BEFORE WE LEFT I asked Garla to help me prepare for the journey. I needed a new disguise. My pose as a pensioned Guardswoman would be useless in the war zone surrounding Galana. If anything, it'd make Kato's and Novari's forces even more suspicious, considering that their main opponents included the Maranon Guard and that the siege itself was centered at a former retreat for old Guardswomen.

  I was in the market, and my mind was on the small details of our planning, so I wasn't paying much attention to anyone I passed.

  As I turned onto the main street leading into Cheapside, a strange apparition dragged itself out of an alley mouth. It was an old legless man with a wooden plate fastened to his trunk, and he was dragging himself along on his fists, which were protected by thick fingerless gloves. He wore soldier's rags that barely covered horrible seeping wounds on his body. His face was a nightmare of boils and livid scars.

  He humped over to me, cackling like an old hen over a fat bug. He stopped, barring my way, and fixed me with a piteous look.

  "Give us a copper, Sarn't," he said. "Help a poor brother in need." And he held up a beggar's bowl.

  A wave of guilt washed over me. Here I'd been posing as a needy veteran, forgetting that many of my brothers and sisters in arms were true unfortunates. They had no famous name. No one who cared if they lived or died. To most citizens they were a burden they begrudged.

  I fished out a handful of coins, with much more silver than copper among them.

  "Here yer go, mate," I said, dumping the coins into the bowl. "Have a good drunk on old Sarn't Rali."

  The beggar swirled the coins around in the bowl and it made a merry sound. He peered up at me with rheumy eyes. "It's a joy to see, dear Captain," he said, "that your deeds are as generous as your words."

  Then he uncurled himself from the platform, standing taller and taller on two fine legs and making a sweeping motion with his hand, peeling away tortured skin and purulent horrors.

  And standing before me was the handsome Master of the Beggars' Guild.

  "Garla!" I exclaimed.

  He bowed low, doffing a wig of dirty gray locks as if it were a fine hat. "One and the same, dear Captain," he said. "One and the same."

  I laughed to be played such a trick. I'd known quite well how the Beggars' Guild operated, had seen them in action many times during the past days in all sorts of pitiful costumes. And even if I hadn't known, I had magical powers to see through that kind of artifice. But I'd still been taken in. The impulse to haul out all those coins had been irresistible.

  "That was your first lesson in disguise, dear Captain," Garla said. "Now shall we adjourn to my quarters and continue?" He offered the crook of his arm like a noble swain, and his smile was as smooth and charming as Janos Greycloak's.

  I laughed again and slapped his arm away. "Don't waste your talents with women on me, Garla," I said. "I'm not so inclined. Flattered, to be sure, that I've drawn the interest of such a handsome fellow. But fellows, handsome or not, are not Rali Antero's drink of preference."

  "Why I knew that, Captain," Garla said, most sincere. He offered his arm again. "But can't a gentleman still be a gentleman to a lady?"

  He took me by such surprise that I giggled like a schoolgirl. Then I bobbed a mock curtsy. A pretty clumsy one, to be sure. I had only a dim memory of such things.

  I took his arm, saying, "Lead on, kind sir." Then, "And I hope you have a friggin' drink wherever it is you're taking me."

  Garla had more than drink in the underground chambers where the beggars of Orissa reign. There was much light and merry music and laughing and dancing people everywhere. Squealing children raced through the crowd, making the ancient stone chambers seem like a country fair. Everyone was dressed in the brightest costumes, which were festooned with colorful ribbons and scarves and strings of jangling bells.

  It was a feast day for the beggars, and they'd all shed their cloaks of misery to celebrate. I made sober notice that among them
were many true cripples and unfortunates, so not all presented a false front. These people, though, seemed as cheerful as the rest. And all were made to feel a part of the festivities.

  Garla, who'd stripped off the rest of his rags and exchanged them for a soft silk robe, called them all together to meet me. Like any good leader, he was taking advantage of my visit to bolster his people's morale.

  They all seemed pleased to see Rali Antero in the flesh and applauded my brief remarks as if every word were a gem.

  I tarried a little longer, drinking with them and listening to the music of the strangest group of musicians I'd ever seen. They had the usual assortment of instruments—pipes and drums and bells and lutes. But each musician had an animal accompanying him. While the piper played, a hooded snake lifted from a basket. The drummer had a dancing dog. The others seemed to favor monkeys, which chittered and pranced and leaped about, performing all sorts of comic antics. We were being entertained, it seemed, by the animal charmers of Orissa. And I couldn't remember when I'd had such a good time and heard such joyous music.

  Finally we retired to Garla's chambers. They were smaller than Pip's and sparsely decorated, but with such masculine good taste I was reminded of my father's private rooms, where all was burnished wood and soft leather. It had the same comfortable smell and I felt immediately at ease.

  I sank into a deep leather chair and accepted a cup of light wine.

  "I have to ask you this," I said. "So forgive my curiosity."

  Garla raised a hand before I could go on. "You want to know," he said, "how such a fellow as me could turn up in such company."

  'To be blunt," I said, "it's obvious you didn't end up with such manners by aping the nobility. They come too natural to you."

  Garla chortled. The sound was rich and deep. "There's not much of a mystery to it," he said. "I'm one of those bastard sons of bastard sons whose fathers were bastards by breeding and strayed into the beds of servant wenches.

  "The only difference between me and the others is I saw my father worry at his innards like a dog. He was tormented because he was unfairly denied the company of polite society. Drink put him in the streets. And I begged the price of it for him until he died."