by Allan Cole
A bowl touched my lips. I drank deeply. I lay back, against Tepon's body, her fingers moving tenderly over me. For some reason, this felt to be the time.
"Janos!" My voice was not loud.
"I hear."
"Will you accompany me? To the Far Kingdoms?"
Laughter boomed from nowhere. "Of course! Of course! I thought you would never ask."
And there was nothing more except Tepon, the tent that suddenly blossomed around us, and we were alone, and her body, and firelight.
I woke some time after dawn. I was naked except for my cloak wrapped around my waist. There was an inquisitive goat staring at me from less than a foot away. I lay on rocky ground in the flaring sunlight. Tepon's head was pillowed on my stomach. The great drum of the night before was now in my head.
And I was destined for the Far Kingdoms.
* * *
CHAPTER FIVE
THE EVOCATORS
My sister tramped in from the exercise yard, undid her cuirass and dumped it on the floor. "If you love me, brother, dear," Rali groaned, "fetch a drink before I perish." I hastened to the fireside where I had set a strong, spiced punch to brew. I lifted the iron jug from the ashes with tongs and poured out a steaming, aromatic goblet. It was my sister's favorite drink. She grinned as I handed it to her. "Such a devoted brother," she said. "Unselfish as well. Anticipating his sister's smallest whim, with no thought of any reward." She took a long drink.
"Don't tease me, Rali," I begged. "I've barely slept since our talk last week."
"Oh, please don't complain to me about your sleeping habits," she said with a laugh. "You've probably slipped another love potion to some doxy and she's been ferreting about your bed all this time." My sister crossed the room on those fine, long legs of hers, kicked off her sandals and settled on the couch. "Come rub my feet," she commanded, "and by and by, I shall tell all."
I rushed to do her bidding, anxious to learn on which side of the ledger my sister was going to write her name. If she was opposed, there was little chance my father would agree to Janos's scheme to seek the Far Kingdoms. If her vote was yea, and she further agreed to smooth the way with our father, there was a small chance he might bless the plan and fund my maiden expedition.
Rali sighed as I coaxed the knots from her tired feet, and took another drink. "This soft life will be the death of me," she said. "Every day is the same. Up at daybreak to drill and train my women. Administrative work until dusk, and then I share a drink and a roasted joint or two with Otara. By day's end I'm so weary with boredom, it's a small miracle if I have energy enough to give Otara a tumble. A situation she has been quick to deplore of late."
Otara was her lover of many years. She was a small, motherly woman of delicate beauty who doted on my sister and would fight to the death to keep her from harm. Not that Rali was likely to require help. She was tall, with long, cabled muscles and narrow hips. Rali was some ten years my senior and in her fighting prime. Swift as a direwolf in an attack and twice as deadly. She was equally skilled with sword, javelin and her strong, ram's horn bow. But no one would ever mistake her for a man, nor did she ape men in her manners. Rali had a pleasing form and was willowy and delicate in her movements, although soldier-plain in her talk. When I was small, and still allowed in her bathchamber, I remember how struck I was at the smooth, milky color of her skin, where the drill field sun did not touch. Where my hair was fiery red, hers was the color of pale straw, and her eyes were as clear and blue as the seas.
"What I need is a good fight to get the blood up," Rali continued, as I rubbed at her sore feet. "Or at least a hard march with some purpose, other than training. An enemy to cow. A city to besiege." She raised the cup to her full lips and drank more. "But I haven't much hope such a thing will soon come to pass," she said. "The Magistrates are fearful of letting us march very far from Orissa. I think they believe a barbarian horde would be conjured up to ravage the city in our absence."
Rali was a captain in the Maranon Guard. It was composed of five hundred warrior women in those times, women who had taken a vow to Maranonia, the favored female deity of war. They forswore marriage, motherhood, or any of the "normal" functions of women in our culture. The guardswomen were highly trained and devoted to the defense of Orissa. Few were man haters, although all preferred other women as sexual partners.
"May I fetch you another cup of punch?" I asked. "Or something to eat? I could tote your bathwater, if you wish. Or any other errand suitable for a brother bent on groveling for his sister's favor. A sister as beautiful as she is wise. As soldierly as she is tender. And as-"
"Stop before I throw up," my sister laughed. "All right, Amalric. You win."
I changed my foot rubbing into a light stroke. "Oh, speak to me, sibyl," I intoned. "Tell me what is in thy heart." Rali was stricken by a fit of giggles. Not from my cleverness so much as my skilled tickling of her feet. I had found her weak place when I was a small child and she a green recruit.
My sister was one of the few people I had ever felt completely at ease with. There was no secret I would not confess to her, no sin she would not forgive. But she never took advantage of this trust by prying. I valued her advice above all others. It was for this reason, I suppose, I had stayed away from her during those months I was afflicted with Melina. I was too much in rut to want to hear good sense. But when I had finally come to her, Rali's words were similar to Janos's. She told me to tote the incident up to experience. "I'm not saying to go forth and sin no more," she'd said. "But I am saying, next time you might try sinning less expensively... and publicly." Then she'd fixed me with those clear blue eyes and asked what I intended to do next. "It is time I sought my Finding," I had answered, "and join our father in the business."
"Noble words, dear brother," she'd responded. "But I wonder if that is really what you want to do. I've suspected for some time your recent behavior might have a deeper cause than youthful folly. Perhaps you don't view the prospect of a trader's life with joy." I realized once again how perceptive my soldier sister was. Perhaps I was fighting a stodgy future, to be forced into the company of men who cared only for money.
"You see it exactly," I had cried. "If I am to be a merchantman like our father, I want to do much more than just take over the family business. I want to make my own mark and be more than the son of a rich man, living off our father's youthful deeds."
"How do you plan to accomplish this? Or, have you given this thought?" she'd asked.
I told her about the Far Kingdoms and my desire to make them the object of my Finding. And I told her of Janos. She'd listened closely, offering no opinion until I was done. Then she'd said: "I won't say nay. And I won't say yea. In fact, I will offer no view at all at this time. However... What I will do is to ask about. And when I have learned more, especially more of your new friend, Janos Greycloak, I will give you my decision."
Now it was time for the decision she'd promised. Although I joked and tickled, I awaited the outcome in agony. My sister pulled her feet away and sat straighter in the couch. "Fetch me another drink, please," she said, "and I will tell you what I have learned." In a moment she had her wish, and I sat there, barely able to breathe.
"You will forgive me, dear Amalric," she said, "for I went at this in an unkindly fashion. Rather than investigating the worthiness of your Finding to start with, I first sought evidence your friend is a scoundrel." A raised hand stopped my protest. "You must admit, your company of late has been questionable young men as well as women. For all I knew, Janos Greycloak was just a new, best friend." I bowed my head, admitting the truth.
"To begin with," she said, "I had a few quiet words with some of my acquaintances in the Magistrate's Own Guard. My conclusion is Janos is not only an excellent soldier, but a skilled leader and organizer." My breath whooshed in relief. "Don't be so quick," Rali warned. "All is not lightness. Captain Greycloak, it seems, is also a man who has earned his share of enemies during his short time in the Guard. But I think most of it is bec
ause of jealousy. Also his confident manner would anger many of those rich whoresons who lead their soldiery from a favorite tavern."
I broke in: "There is also his ancestry, and the time he spent in the service of the Lycanthians."
"I realize that," my sister answered. "But in an odd fashion, these facts end up speaking well for him. Janos's mother was an Orissan, a member of the Kether family. She had a reputation as a hot-headed maid with a stubbornly romantic streak. Janos's father was a prince from Kostroma, who paid a rare trading visit to Orissa, where he met the young Kether woman. They fell in love. It was quite a scandal at the time. Especially since Janos's mother defied the wishes of her family and ran off with the dashing young prince. I believe they are both dead now. Although no one knows the circumstance."
This partly explained Janos's reluctance to tell me much about his parents. "How he came to serve the Lycanthians," my sister continued, "I do not know. Although I suspect he needed some means of earning his way after his father and mother died."
"He is quite poor," I said. "It was my impression he is using all of whatever savings he has to maintain himself in the Guard."
"Exactly so," my sister said. "He obviously viewed it as an investment. So he could meet the right people to further his career."
"And I am that right person?" I asked, worried once more. Had I been played for the fool again?
My sister patted my hand. "Don't be so quick to judge where I'm going," she said. "He may be poor, but I do not think money is his goal."
"He said that himself," I said, a bit hotly, sorry I hadn't defended him a moment ago.
"It seems the Kether family - or what is left of it - stewed for quite some time when Janos showed up in Orissa. They believed he would soon pay a visit, and make blood demands for assistance. They would have refused him, of course. Their view was he had no call, since his mother's direct line no longer exists. Her father, it is said, died of a broken heart after his daughter shamed him by taking up with a barbarian prince."
"But he didn't go, did he?" I said with satisfaction.
"Actually, he did. After a time, he called on his uncle. But to that great skinflint's relief, Captain Greycloak was not only respectful, but made sure his uncle understood he had no intentions of attempting to cash in on family connections."
"Well, good for Janos," I said.
"Yes. It does tend to show his intentions are honest. Unfortunately, it did nothing to stem the flow of coin from his purse." Rali finished her drink, and set the goblet on a table. "To make sure of my impressions," she continued, "I went to visit him myself. "
I was startled. I sat there, tense, waiting. "Well?" I prodded.
My sister laughed. "I think your friend is mad, bad and dangerous to know." I frowned, puzzled at her comments and laughter. "Especially for women," she said. "He knows how to speak with a woman, to compliment her mind rather than her appearance. And he looks you straight in the eye, weighing your every word, as if each were a treasure. We had a lovely talk. Near the end he made it known - in a subtle, gentlemanly way - he would have loved nothing more than to bed me!"
"What?" I almost shouted this, angry at Janos for insulting my sister.
Rali only laughed harder. "Oh, you should see your face. Together with your hair, you could light an arena at the dark of the moon. Don't be so protective. Especially when it isn't necessary. As I said, he was very gentlemanly about it, only hinting. Quite flattering, actually. As a matter of fact, if I were ever to consider bedding a man - disgusting thought that it is - your friend would be an early choice. He is most attractive. If it weren't for that scar, he would be almost too handsome."
I was soothed, happy. "Then you approve of Janos?"
"I do, indeed. He is a good soldier. A practical soldier. And I believe he would do all he could to make sure you returned safely from your Finding."
"What of the venture itself?" I asked. "My plan to seek the Far Kingdoms."
"I think it is insane," my sister answered, becoming serious. "But I think you would regret it the rest of your life if you did not go."
She leaned forward, intent on what she was going to say. "In a way, I'm jealous of you, Amalric. A jealousy that makes me angry at all men. When I was a girl, I dreamed of such adventure. But I quickly learned my sex doomed me at birth. I could marry and bear children for some pig of a husband who would command every moment of my time. I could be a concubine, which considering my tastes, would be an equal hell. Although even that would have been denied me, since I am the daughter of a noble family. Thank the gods I was born with the Antero gift for athletics and a loving father understanding enough to allow me to enter the Maranon Guard. Believe me, I prefer this boredom to any other offered to my sisters in this city."
"So you will press my cause with our father?" I asked.
"I will. But for a reason much deeper than satisfying a youthful wanderlust. If you are successful, you will strike a blow for the entire Antero family. And we can end these whispers about us that emanate from the Council of Evocators. Halab will not be revenged. But at least our poor brother will sleep in peace."
"I thought I saw his ghost the other night at a tavern," I said. "The night I met Janos. He smiled at me. And raised his thumb in encouragement."
"An excellent omen," my sister said. "Halab's ghost must have suspected what was going to happen."
A long silence fell. It was always thus when Halab's name was mentioned. It had been his bad luck to lead the family into the path of the Evocators. It was his worse luck to be born with an Evocator's talent. As a child, he was seer enough to frighten the maids with predictions of unwanted pregnancies that proved true. Rali confessed once Halab had known in advance our mother was to die, and spent six months in silent mourning before that event came about.
I remember only a few boy's tricks he played to amuse or soothe me. I had a pet ferret I carried everywhere. It lived and dined in my pocket and slept by my pillow at night. My pet sickened and died. This was shortly after my mother's death, so the loss was an awful blow for one so young. I mourned so deeply I grew ill myself, and almost died of a fever. But Halab dug the ferret up from the garden grave I'd buried it in.
I remember wakening to his chants. He was sitting on the floor by my bed, dangling the withered corpse of the tiny beast over a blue flame licking up from a copper bowl. I smelled the odor of putrid flesh burning. Halab sprinkled a powder into the flame, continuing his chant, and suddenly the awful odor became wondrously sweet. Then he breathed on the dead animal, twirling it about by its tail.
He placed it on my chest and put my hand on top of the cold body. "Breathe on it, Amalric," he said, his voice so gentle I can hear it across time. I breathed. And I felt the cold turn to warmth. Then a stirring. Then a squeak. And my pet's nose poked out between my fingers. I gave a loud cry of joy as its masked face appeared next, little eyes bright with life. They say my fever broke an hour later. Within a week I was jumping about as pesky as ever, my little ferret in my pocket.
To this day when I think of that time, I don't know whether to smile or weep. We all loved my brother, and were in awe of his gifts. I realize now that for my father, the awe was tempered by trepidation. My brother was intent on becoming an Evocator. He wanted the knowledge only they could teach. But his desire for these powers went at cross purposes to the politics of the times. My brother was an idealist, a romantic who saw his gifts to be used to benefit the people of Orissa. He dreamed of curing the ill and easing the plight of the poor and enslaved.
The Council of Evocators, however, were intent on maintaining their influence over Orissa. No Magistrate, regardless of the importance or antiquity of his family, could act without its blessing. No merchant, craftsman, shopkeeper, or courtesan could ply his or her trade without paying the mandated tithe. My brother was honest and open in his ambition. It was only with great reluctance the Evocators agreed to consider accepting him into their company. They tested him more thoroughly, my sister told me, than m
ost. And they were rude in their questioning, as if he were of low, or questionable birth.
The Evocators rejected him, saying he had failed the test. But Halab was not to be discouraged. He demanded the ultimate test: Trial by Ordeal. The entire city, I was told, was abuzz when that day approached. My brother had refused to accept the wisdom of the Council, and chose to take his case directly to the gods. The details of the trial were secret, but all knew that failure meant death. He entered the temple that day - and never returned. The Evocators sent word he had died. But there would be no corpse for the family to honor. No rites performed to ease his passage. Halab's ghost was doomed to wander a cold limbo world between this life and the next.
It was a high price we all paid for Halab's dreams. My brothers complained of it frequently in private. But they were meek men, who crept around the shame. My father also, never spoke of it publicly. Not out of fear for himself, but for his family and the generations to come. I do know he hated the Evocators. It was a hate he shared with my sister and myself.
Rali stirred on the couch. She smiled at me, but I could tell from the weary tilt of her lips her thoughts had roamed the same gloomy woods as my own. "Give me a week," she said. "You know how father dotes on me. But I'll still need time to work my daughterly wiles."
"Take Otara with you when you visit," I advised. "He always enjoys her company."
"Oh, I will. I will. But you must promise me one thing, darling brother," she said.
"Anything. Name the mountain, and I'll climb it. The desert, and I'll cross it. The treasure, and I'll steal it."
"Can you stay out trouble?"
"Much more difficult," I said. "But I'll try my best... I promise."