"I see some of my companions in misery," Franta murmured. "Yes, there's poor old Lop-Ear. And Spindle shanks. Ah, my boy, I shudder to think I used to be one of them."
"I'm afraid you'll have to be one of them again," said Lucian. "Just a little while."
"A little while may be all I-haw-have," replied Franta. "Running into that vile Cerda again seems to have frightened more speech out of me."
As Lucian instructed, Franta took his place at the head of the train. Joy-in-the-Dance whispered to Cerda: "Tell your people you've hired extra hands for this delivery. That's all. Not a peep more. Don't even blink."
Protectively clutching his beard, Cerda obeyed the girl's orders. Far from being suspicious, his servants appeared glad for the added help. The pack train, with Franta leading, set off as quickly as their burdens allowed. Catch-a-Tick skipped at the rear, urging stragglers to keep pace.
A little after sundown, they reached the back gate of the palace. So accustomed to the arrival of the merchant and his goods, the sentry waved him and his animals into the yard, only remarking that he was later than usual.
Lucian halted near the storehouses. A chill ran through him. Never had he imagined setting foot in this place again; and he still had no idea what next to do. Ops and Joy-in-the-Dance had started unburdening the animals. Lucian looked around for Menyas.
He saw nothing of him in the stables, then sighted him by one of the granaries. The old stableman's face was gray and careworn, and he seemed older than Lucian remembered.
Lucian ran to him. Menyas blinked, hardly recognizing him, then gave a glad cry. "Lad, is that yourself? Here?" He glanced about hastily. "Get into the stable. It's worth your neck if you're caught-"
"Never mind that. My friends are with me. We want Bromios." Lucian drew him aside. "The sacrifice-we have to stop it."
"Are you out of your head? First, why meddle in such a business? Second, there's naught you can do."
"There must be." As quickly as he could, Lucian stammered out what had happened since meeting Bromios. "Where's the king now?"
"Lad, I don't make sense of half what you're babbling. The king? He's to be offered up when the Bear Star rises." Menyas squinted at the darkening sky. "Any time now. You won't save him. They've already got him in the Hall of Sacrifice."
Without waiting to hear more, leaving Menyas standing bewildered, Lucian shouted for Joy-in-the-Dance and Ops. The girl threw aside the basket she was unloading and started after him. Cerdo, seizing the chance to escape, bawled for help at the top of his voice and scurried across the yard, Ops at his heels. The pack animals brayed and whinnied, straining at their tethers. From the tail of his eye, Lucian glimpsed guards racing to the stables.
Not daring a backward glance, he dashed down the walkways, past the sheds and chicken run. Footsteps clattered from behind him, and then Catch-a-Tick was racing at his side.
"Aiee-Ouch, I want to see you do the rest of your plan," he called out. "I want to be there when it happens."
"Stay out of this. Go back. Fetch the pythoness. And Ops."
"They're busy. You see, what happened-"
"Then go help."
Catch-a-Tick paid no attention to him. Wasting no more time or breath trying to shake him off, Lucian pressed on. Torches lined the pathway to the Hall of Sacrifice. Two warriors guarded the open portals. Skirting the hall, Lucian cast around for another entry. The lath and plaster building was open-sided, with rows of wooden pillars holding up the roof. Calchas and Phobos ordinarily used it for consulting the oracular chickens. Now it was filled with palace officials come to witness the solemn ceremony. A low wall of boards ran between the pillars. Lucian scrambled to the top of it. Catch-a-Tick climbed up beside him.
"What next, Aiee-Ouch?"
Lucian did not answer. His eyes had gone to the far end of the hall. Crimson draperies hung from the rafters overhead. Tall iron braziers flamed on both sides of the stone altar where Bromios, in a drugged stupor, lay in his bearskin regalia. Calchas held a long, glittering knife. Phobos was gazing beyond the pillars into the night sky. For some long moments he stood watching, then turned and nodded. "The Bear Star has risen." Calchas lifted the blade high above his head.
The throng held its breath. Lucian, frozen, could only stare as Catch-a-Tick nudged him anxiously. Then he burst out with the only words that sprang to his lips.
"No! Stop!" Calchas hesitated and glared around. "Who dares to speak?"
"The sacrifice is not acceptable," cried Lucian. "These soothsayers are unworthy to perform it. Their hearts are stained with crime. Thieves and traitors!"
"The tongue of a liar!" Calchas had fixed a furious eye on Lucian, who was standing on the wall. The crowd murmured uneasily. "Seize him. Fetch him here."
Phobos was frantically gesturing for Calchas to strike. "Do it, you fool. Do it."
Lucian's heart sank. The crowd was too thick for him to force his way through and make one desperate attempt to seize the blade from Calchas. Then it flashed into his mind: the gift from Catch-a-Tick. The sling.
He snatched the bag from his tunic, fumbled a stone into the pouch, and whirled the thongs around his head. The missile whirred through the air.
It missed its mark.
He had taken dead aim at Calchas. To his horror, that same instant, Bromios sat up. The stone struck the king squarely on the head. Bromios toppled off the slab.
Catch-a-Tick crowed triumphantly. "You saved him! Marvelous!"
It took a moment for Lucian to understand. The stone had knocked Bromios to the ground just as Calchas brought down the knife. The blade shattered on the empty altar.
Lucian sprang from the wall. Bromios, dazed, stumbled to his feet and lurched into a smoking brazier. The red-hot coals went flying, the crimson draperies burst into flame. Phobos, yelping as sparks showered him, streaked for the open side of the hall.
But Calchas would not be cheated of his victim. Even as the flames licked at the rafters, he snatched up a cleaver from behind the altar and swung it wildly at the reeling Bromios. By then, Lucian was upon him. The soothsayer turned to face his attacker.
"Watch out for that cleaver, Aiee-Ouch!" cried Catch-a-Tick.
Calchas halted in mid stroke. Cerdo had dashed into the hall. As the onlookers scattered, the merchant streaked toward Calchas, bawling for help. Behind him, braying and snapping, galloped Fronto and all of Cerdo's donkeys.
Making straight for Calchas, Fronto reared and lashed out with his hooves. Calchas jumped back and flung away the cleaver. The roof had begun blazing like matchwood. A burning rafter fell in a fountain of sparks, striking Bromios across the shoulders and sending him headlong to the ground.
The onlookers, shouting in panic, jostled their way out of the hall. Cerdo dived over the wall. The pursuing donkeys jumped after him. The fire, by now, had spread to the nearby sheds and outbuildings. Catch-a-Tick was dancing with gleeful excitement.
"Aiee-Ouch, you're burning down the whole palace!"
"Get out!" Lucian struggled to lift the king to Fronto's back. The blazing rafters collapsed. The roof fell in on itself. Lucian gave an anguished cry. Franta lay beneath the crackling timber. Lucian plunged into the flames.
"No use," Franta gasped. "Save yourself, my boy. Too late for Callista. I can barely speak. Leave me here. Better a dead poet than a live jackass."
Lucian flung up his arms as a curtain of fire swept over Franta. Choking, blinded by smoke, Lucian groped helplessly. Franta had vanished.
Strong hands gripped Lucian's shoulders and dragged him clear of the burning wreckage. He tried to fight free of his rescuers. Joy-in-the-Dance was there; beside her were Buckthorn and See-Far-Ahead.
25 - A City in Ashes
Nothing was spared. The fire had raged all night, sweeping over sheds and storehouses. Half the palace had been gutted; the rest was smoke-blackened or gnawed by flames. Clouds of ash sifted down on the rooftops, turning the city gray. About dawn, a sour little rain began, the droplets hissing and stea
ming as they touched the hot embers. Menyas and some household servants had gotten the horses and livestock to safety. Of the palace officials, most had fled; only a handful of warriors stayed at their posts. Some fifty of the Horse Clan who had ridden with See-Far-Ahead kept as much order as possible among the city dwellers. The folk of Metara had never seen the like of these tall, graceful men and women, and stared with wonder at them, as if they were beings from an unknown, marvelous world.
"The Lady of Wild Things had news from the eagle that followed you," See-Far-Ahead later told Lucian. "When Bromios came upon you, she feared for your lives. Though she could not be sure of its nature, she sensed that great peril lay ahead. She urged me to summon warriors and ride with all speed for Metara while she herself made ready to set sail and join us here.
"As we passed through the domain of the Goat Folk, Buckthorn asked to accompany us. There was the matter of a certain disobedient young member of his family," See-Far-Ahead went on. "Only the wind itself could have gone more swiftly than we did. Alas, we came too late. Now my heart aches for your friend and for you."
In the morning, when it was barely light enough to see, with Bromios in the care of Ops and Mirina, Lucian and the others picked their way through the rubble to what had been the Hall of Sacrifice. Joy-in-the-Dance kept his hand clasped in hers. Since Lucian had been pulled from the wreckage, the two had never been out of each others sight, and rarely out of each others touch.
The Hall of Sacrifice had burned to the ground. The heaviest rafters still smoldered; the reek of charred wood caught in Lucian's throat; his eyes watered in the haze of smoke. Or so he thought, until he realized he was weeping. See-Far-Ahead and Buckthorn set about heaving aside what remained of the fallen timbers.
"There's naught here, lad," Buckthorn said gently. "All burned beyond a trace. Let be," he added as Lucian searched through the wreckage. "Take no more grief than you can bear."
Catch-a-Tick's face puckered and he leaned his cheek on Lucian's arm as Joy-in-the-Dance led them back to the stable yard. Menyas had found some sheets of canvas and Oudeis began rigging a makeshift awning to keep out most of the rain. Bromios, still in what remained of his bearskin cloak, was sitting up. The drug had worn off and he looked not much the worse for being nearly sacrificed.
"Any sign of our friend?" The king's face fell as Lucian shook his head. "No, I was afraid not. I'm sorry. He'd be on his way to Callista by now if it hadn't been for me. The rest of the prophecy's come true, the city's in ashes; but I didn't think it would cost his life instead of mine.
"I wonder if there's a constellation for jackasses," added Bromios. "If there is, he deserves to have one." He turned to Lucian. "As for constellations, thanks to you I'm not one of them. You saved my hide with that business about an unacceptable sacrifice. I never heard of such a rule."
"Neither did I," said Lucian.
"It was all part of his plan," put in Catch-a-Tick. "Just like hitting you instead of the fat fellow. Who but Aiee Ouch would have thought of doing it? Or setting loose the donkeys?"
"Listen to me," said Lucian, "none of it was any plan of mine."
"The donkeys were Fronto's idea," said Joy-in-the-Dance. "He was afraid his time was short, he wanted a chance for himself and the others to get some of their own back on Cerdo." She smiled at the recollection. "Fronto called it jackass liberation. What he most wanted, though, was to help Aiee-Ouch."
"He did," said Lucian. "In the nick of time, just as if it had been a tale. Hitting Bromios by mistake-he'd have thought that was a nice touch.
"He did more than save my life," Lucian went on. "He gave me a new one. He told me I should be a storyteller-that I was a storyteller already and didn't know it. I've been turning it over and over in my mind. I'm not sure he was right, but that's what I'll try to be."
"I know he was right," said Joy-in-the-Dance, adding fondly, "do you remember that preposterous tale you told me when we first met? As truth, it was ridiculous. As a story-it wasn't all that bad. You'll learn to do better. If Fronto set you on your occupation, he gave you a great gift."
"I'll find out soon enough if it's true," Lucian said, brightening. "He told me he'd be pleased and proud if I were his colleague. I only wish he knew."
"Perhaps he does," put in Bromios. "I hope so, anyway. But, speaking of gifts, you tell me what I can do for you."
"There's nothing." Lucian shook his head. "I'd only ask you to be a better king."
"No," declared Bromios. "Certainly not. I won't be a better king. I can't," he pressed on despite an indignant outcry from Joy-in-the-Dance. "Because I'm not a king at all. You have a new one. As royal a fellow as ever you'll find. King Ops."
"What's he saying?" exclaimed Lucian, turning to the scapegoat. "Is that true? You're the king of Arkadia?"
"I'm afraid so," admitted Ops. "At first, I told him it was out of the question, but he kept at me. He was very persuasive. He vowed he'd crack my head if I didn't accept."
"That's wonderful!" Lucian clasped the former scapegoat's hand. "Congratulations-Your Majesty!"
"Ops, that's the only wise thing Bromios has ever done," said Joy-in-the-Dance, embracing him. "It makes perfect sense. Your father was of the Bear tribe; your mother, of our people. You're both. If anyone can settle our differences, you can."
"You'll still have your old occupation," added Lucian. "You like taking on people's troubles. Now, you'll have a whole kingdom to serve."
"I hadn't looked at it that way," said Ops. "Yes, it does save wandering about. And I'll set up councils with both men and women."
He stopped as a disheveled figure edged his way into the shelter. The intruder's face was smudged with ashes, his lank hair tangled and matted; his only garment, a length of tattered cloth, with holes burnt in it, which he had wrapped around himself as best he could.
"Here, now, what are you after?" demanded Oudeis. "We're having a serious, private conversation."
"We just got a new king," piped up Catch-a-Tick. "He's King Ops."
"Really?" said the new arrival. "Marvelous news! I'm delighted to hear it. Let me be the first to wish him well, if the rest of you haven't done it already."
From the moment he had begun to speak, Joy-in-the-Dance had fixed her glance on him, studying him intently. Lucian, too, had been watching and listening, all the more bewildered as the stranger, smiling happily, continued.
"It will be my great joy, honor, and privilege to write a coronation ode-"
Lucian jumped to his feet, staring speechless. His ears were playing tricks on him. He dared not believe what they were telling him.
"Dear boy, I'm not a ghost. If I were, I'd hope to be a little less famished."
"Fronto?" Lucian gasped. "You're not. You can't be."
"Can be. And am," replied the poet as Joy-in-the-Dance drew closer, her eyes lighting up. "Yes, beyond question, I'm me. Myself again, altogether in splendid shape-my usual shape, that is. I have a tender spot where Cerda put his mark on me, but I expect it will fade away in time.
"I hope I didn't cause undue concern," Fronto went on. "I got here as quickly as I could. I do admit I wasn't sure, at first, if I'd get here at all."
"But you were burned up," Lucian stammered. "I know-I saw-"
"Aiee-Ouch, be quiet," said Joy-in-the-Dance. "Let him tell us."
"Yes, well," said Fronto, "if you recall, the Lady of Wild Things mentioned using a blazing pyre to transform me. She didn't recommend it, and I quite understand why. Indeed, I might have been burned to a crisp. In fact, I was. So to speak. My jackass exterior, in any case. Of that, there was nothing left at all.
"Of myself-I can't describe it precisely, I was neither here nor there, neither one place nor the other. Betwixt and between, you might say. For a while, I had the impression I was turning into a tree. Then a bird. Then a fish, a rabbit, a hedgehog, and half a dozen other creatures one after the other.
"Until my own body came back, I had no idea who was who or which way was which. An unsettling cond
ition, but a very interesting one, as I look back on it. For us poets, a state of confusion is quite ordinary.
"When I did, at last, come to myself, I still had one trivial difficulty. My clothes had vanished along with my hooves, tail, and the rest. I could hardly, out of modesty, go parading around like that. These bits and pieces were all I found, but they'll do for the moment.
"And so, I'm overjoyed to be with you all-Haw! Haw! Ah-don't worry about the occasional hee-haw. Old habits tend to linger."
"Fronto," said Lucian, embracing him, "it's you. It really is."
"Was there ever any doubt?" said Fronto.
26 - New Metara
The Lady of Wild Things was in Metara. Watchers I at the port had, from a distance, sighted the golden sail and banks of flashing oars; and, by the time the long, slender vessel glided into the harbor, word had spread from one end of the city to the other. See-Far-Ahead and his horsemen galloped to escort her from the landing stage. If the townsfolk had marveled at these splendid riders, they stood speechless in even greater wonder as the procession made its way to the public square. The jeweled diadem shining at her brow, a blue sea-cloak around her shoulders, her leopards padding beside her, the Lady of Wild Things moved with graceful strides at the head of her white-robed Daughters of Morning.
At first, the crowds lining the streets hardly dared whisper among themselves. Some had never believed that she existed; those who did believe had never dreamed she would set foot in Metara and they would see her with their own eyes. Then, one voice rose, another, and another until it seemed the whole city had joined in a single joyous outcry.
As the Lady of Wild Things entered the stable yard, Joy-in-the-Dance ran to her arms. Lucian felt his heart clench as the Lady's last words to him came back as piercingly as when she had spoken them: That is her life. You can have no part in it.
"Lord See-Far-Ahead has told me all that has happened," the Lady of Wild Things said. "I am indebted to him for his help, though I understand it was little needed." Before she could say more, Fronto, unable to restrain himself, eagerly hurried forward.
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