A Plague of Wizards

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A Plague of Wizards Page 9

by Wesley Allison


  “I don’t think this is a good example,” said Tokkenoht.

  “No,” agreed Szakhandu. “I have seen fruit served this way before. Surely you have too.”

  “Who looks at fruit bowls?” growled Hsrandtuss, ignoring the fact that he had just been doing that very thing. “Both of you, go away.”

  Both females left the room, leaving Terra alone with the king. He lay back down on his mat.

  “Sit beside me.”

  Terra sat cross-legged beside the great lizzie.

  “Feed me some of that fruit.” He opened his mouth and she tossed several pieces in. “I used to like fruit, but I don’t eat as much as I used to. I probably don’t eat as much of it as I should, but don’t repeat that to any of my wives.”

  “It’s odd, isn’t it, that nature would provide such a thing just hanging from the trees?” said Terra. “It’s a kind of magic.”

  “You are an odd little thing,” he said, opening his mouth and allowing her to throw in a few more pieces. “Why exactly have you come here?”

  “My brother sent me.”

  “Yes, I know that. But why? What are you here to do?”

  “I am here to see with fresh eyes.”

  “What does that mean, little female?”

  “I think it means to see without fear.”

  “And you aren’t afraid?”

  “I’m afraid of many things, I think.”

  “Then we shall go see with fresh eyes together, eh?” The king shot to his feet much faster than the girl would have expected based on her previous observations. He pointed to her sleeping mat, where her clothes, her helmet, and her pistol, were stacked. “Get your paint and feathers on and then come to the dining hall.”

  Terra ate the last few bites of her fruit, licked her fingers clean, and then got dressed. Though she had worn her clothes only a few hours, women in Brech society routinely changed several times a day, so she was happy that her khakis had been laundered while she had slept. She managed easily to roll up the cuffs of her pants, and tried to do so with the sleeves of her shirt. Eventually she had to take it off to perform the modification. At last she was completely decked out and started off toward the morning meal.

  The dining hall was far less crowded than it had been the evening before. Though the palace served a morning and evening meal, most lizzies ate only once a day. Hsrandtuss was already in his seat while Ssu gathered food for him. Terra went to the food tables and put together her own meal. When she sat down in the same chair she had used the previous night, she had a plate half filled with kippers. The remainder was mostly roasted vegetables, including parsnips, potatoes, and green peppers, along with some small but meaty tomatoes.

  Terra surprised herself by eating so much. When she looked up she noticed that the rest of the diners were watching her. At first she thought that this was simply because she was a human, but then she noticed that most of their plates had less than half the food of hers. She shrugged. It wasn’t her fault that she was warm blooded.

  “We shall go hunting this morning, Earthworm!” called the king. He looked at another male who sat across the room from the girl. “What do you think, Slechtiss? Can you find weapons small enough for this little soft-skin to use?”

  “I will see to it, Great King,” the male replied, staring at Terra.

  * * * * *

  “Have you been hunting before, little human?” asked Hsrandtuss, as the party followed a game trail through the pine forest.

  “A time or two, but not recently. Uncle Radley used to take us.”

  “Yes, I know much of the Yellow King, though I never met him. He was counted a great warrior.”

  “So they say.”

  “I have been learning about human names. I find them very interesting. His names were General Lieutenant Radley Staff, yes?”

  “Well, no. You see, general is a title. You would say skorghett. Lieutenant is a title too, but you don’t have a corresponding word. Uncle Radley was a lieutenant commander in His Majesty’s Navy, then a militia general here in Birmisia, and finally he was made Baron of Saxe-Lagerport-Drille. I suppose the closest thing to a baron is saskhorha.”

  “He brought pride to your hut,” said Hsrandtuss. “But what is navy?”

  “They are warriors that fight on the oceans.”

  “Your people make great boats of metal that carry gigantic thunderous weapons. I have heard of this. I am even more impressed with the Yellow King now than I was before. It is too bad I never had the chance to face him in battle.”

  “Great King,” called Slechtiss, pointing to several broken saplings.

  “Yes, you are right. We should go this way.”

  “The animal we’re hunting went this way?” asked Terra.

  Hsrandtuss hissed noncommittally.

  The hunting party consisted of just four, the king, the girl, and two warriors: Tusskiqu and Slechtiss. It had been Slechtiss that had provided the diminutive human with what must have been the smallest lizzie sword ever made. It hung from the left side of her belt, opposite her pistol. The three reptilians each carried two short spears and an atl-atl, but Terra had been completely unable to manage them.

  “Take the lead,” Hsrandtuss told Tusskiqu, who started into the undergrowth with Slechtiss behind him. The king guided Terra along after them and then took up the rear position.

  “So if those were titles,” he said, continuing their earlier conversation, “what were his names?”

  “What? Oh, Uncle Radley, you mean? His name was Radley Perseus Bentley Staff.”

  “And Iolana Livonia Dechantagne Staff was his offspring, so they have the same name at the end.”

  “That’s right. Our last name is our family name. It is passed down from our fathers. And the name just before it is our mother’s family name. That tradition has passed out of favor among many, but our family is very traditional in such things.”

  “I see,” said Hsrandtuss. “So you’re last name, Dechantagne, is the same as your father’s.”

  “Yes, my father and Iolana’s mother were brother and sister.”

  “And your mother was Korlann. That sounds like one of our names.”

  “Yes, Yuah Korlann. Her mother’s family name was Kahn, but she’s always been very secretive about her second name. It’s quite mysterious really. I shall have to remember to ask Grandfather about it.”

  “Where do your other names come from?” asked the king.

  “Parents decide their children’s Kafiran name and second name in any number of ways. They may name them after a family member or friend, or someone they admire. Sometimes they just like the sound of a name. I’ve even known of situations where a mother simply made up a name, but that’s looked down upon. It never turns out well.”

  “I meant your names, Earthworm.”

  “Oh. Well, Terra is the female form of my father’s Kafiran name—Terrence.”

  “And the second?”

  “Posthuma is a female form of the word posthumous, which means ‘after death’ since I was born after my father’s death.”

  “How did he die?”

  “Lizzie warriors attacked our home. He died fighting them.”

  “It is not right to kill a male in his own hut,” observed Hsrandtuss.

  “He killed ten and managed to save my mother and brother,” she replied. “It was a positive exchange.”

  The two warriors Terra had been following had stopped and she stepped up to stand between them. From this position, she could see a small herd of dinosaurs in a clearing ahead. They looked very much like the triceratops chosen to pull the trollies back in Port Dechantagne, though much smaller. They were, in fact, only slightly larger than a horse. They had long, thin horns above the eyes that pointed outward, and an equally long and thin nose horn. The neck frill was much shorter than that of a triceratops and it was festooned with ten hook-like projections at the rim, eight of which curved forward to overlie the frill, while the other two, positioned on either side of it, cu
rved out laterally. The beasties had dull olive bellies but their backs were beautiful indigo blue and their frills were covered with a striking pattern of many shades of blue. Though she had never seen such creatures before, Terra recognized them from cousin Iolana’s book on Birmisian animals as kosmoceratops.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered. “You must catch some of these to trade with us. They look like they would be much better mounts than iguanodons.”

  “Your traders ride in little huts on the big animals’ backs,” observed Hsrandtuss. “These beasts might serve both your people and mine. I will send some to your brother. And I will send some of my people to learn how to train them.”

  “That sounds acceptable.”

  The king nodded to the warriors, who started off in opposite directions, skirting the edge of the clearing.

  “They are also good to eat,” he said. “We will kill a young and tender one.”

  “It seems like a shame to…”

  “Quiet,” Hsrandtuss ordered.

  A moment later, the foliage on the right hand side of the clearing parted and two predators ran out among the herd. They were slightly larger than the kosmoceratops and resembled smaller versions of the gorgosaurs that Terra had so recently encountered. These beasts were more heavily feathered, with black plumes running down their backs and long tails, though their bellies were bare. The feathers around their faces were bright red, making them seem like tiny tyrannosaurs. The two predators quickly separated a medium-sized kosmoceratops from the others, running it directly toward where the lizzie king and the girl were hiding.

  Suddenly, there was a tremendous roar from right behind Terra. She turned and saw a third predator coming strait at her. Not having any time to unleash his spear, Hsrandtuss turned to meet it with only his sword. Without any conscious thought on her part, Terra’s hand whipped her pistol from its holster and it roared out six shots. Then the beast hit her, claws scraping across her scalp. And then she was flying through the air. Before she hit the ground, everything went black.

  * * * * *

  “Are you awake little soft-skin?”

  Terra opened her eyes to look into the toothy snout of a lizzie.

  “Cissy?”

  “The king should not have taken you hunting. You are fragile and small.”

  The girl wiped her eyes. She was lying in the hearth room of Hsrandtuss’s palace. The king’s wife Tokkenoht was leaning over her. Behind her stood another lizzie, one that Terra didn’t recognize.

  “Is the king alive?”

  “It will take more than a dryptosaurus to kill him. You however, are barely a mouthful.”

  “My head is killing me,” said Terra, running her hand over her scalp. “Kafira’s eyes! What happened to my hair?”

  All that she could feel were a few bits of bristly stubble. Then her hand ran over a jagged gash in her skin and the pain almost made her pass out. The female lizzie grabbed her wrists and pulled her hands downward.

  “The dryptosaurus clawed you. You had three slices all the way to the bone. Oreoluss was not too sure that your brain wasn’t damaged, but at least you are awake.”

  “Do you have a mirror?”

  Tokkenoht stepped away. The other lizzie moved around behind Terra. He had a bowl of salve, which she could feel him carefully spreading on her wounds. The pain remained, but ebbed somewhat. Tokkenoht returned with a brass mirror, which she held up. It wasn’t as good as a proper mirror, but Terra could make out her denuded head, with three long lesions, sewn up with god-only-knows-what for catgut.

  “We had to shave the tuft of hair off your head so that your skin could be cleaned and stitched.”

  “I’m going to die an old maid,” said Terra. “An old, bald maid.”

  The lizzie behind her hissed.

  “Oreoluss thinks you might die tonight,” said Tokkenoht, “but I will not permit it.”

  With a sigh, Terra closed her eyes and slept.

  * * * * *

  It was two days before Terra was permitted to get up from her sleeping mat for anything but a quick trip to the garden to relieve herself. In that time, between the healing salves applied to her head and the lizzie magic sent her way, her wounds had completely healed. She had three long scars across the top of her head, running from back to front. The centermost, which was the worst of the three, ended right about where her former hairline had sat.

  On the third morning, she, accompanied by Szakhandu, had taken a long and rejuvenating bath. As she was drying herself, a servant arrived carrying what looked like a large pile of feathers.

  “What’s this then?”

  “The king has ordered new clothing for you,” said Szakhandu. With the servant standing by, she pulled out a shirt made of brown leather.

  “We based it upon the clothing you wore and consulted with the human traders near the gate.” She held up the shirt and Terra slipped her arms into it, one after the other. It was soft and supple, and fastened up the front with wooden buttons. It was quite a nice fit and had sleeves the proper length.

  “And this is for your bottom half.” The lizzie queen held out a skirt of a similar leather, though it was black. It fastened around the girl’s waist with a clever little leather cinch, and was trimmed around the ankle-length hem with red. It was roomie enough, but would never have allowed for even the smallest bustle.

  “Now you must have paint and feathers.”

  “Must I?”

  “The king has ordered it.”

  Szakhandu carefully painted the right half of Terra’s face and neck with red ochre and the left side with black charcoal. Then she took the pile of feathers from the waiting lizzie. They turned out to be a crimson cape of achillobator feathers, and a headdress of black feathers that wrapped around the girl’s head and tied in the back. Looking in the brass mirror Terra couldn’t recognize herself.

  “The paint and feathers are only for ceremonial purposes.”

  “I don’t know,” said Terra. “Maybe I’ll want to wear them more often. My head doesn’t look nearly so unpleasant with them.”

  “Remember, you have your hard hat. The rest of these clothes should serve you anytime.”

  “What now?”

  “The king is waiting for us in the throne room.”

  The queen led her through the labyrinthine hallways until they reached the throne room. It was the first time that Terra had been there since her first meeting with Hsrandtuss, and it was just as full of lizzie nobles as it had been on that day. Many of them hissed quietly, as Szakhandu led her across the length of the room toward the dais.

  Hsrandtuss sat on his throne. He wore a minimal amount of paint, but had his gold crown perched upon his head. Terra could see fresh scars in the shape of a massive bite on his right shoulder, white against his otherwise olive skin.

  “Hello, my little soft-skin,” he said. “It is good to see you are alive.”

  “Might I return that sentiment?”

  “We are both alive thanks to our choice of hunting partners. Tusskiqu and Slechtiss pulled the beast off me, though you had mortally wounded it with your thunder weapon. Yesterday they were rewarded with great wealth, and two new wives each.” He looked down at Ssu, sitting beside his left foot. “That will teach them.”

  “I must thank them too,” said Terra. “I’m happy to be alive.”

  “I am glad to hear it. I had heard that the loss of your hair had upset you.”

  She let out a sigh and shrugged.

  “Well now you will have much more to be happy about,” boomed Hsrandtuss, standing up and stepped down toward her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. “I am hereby making you a noble female of the city of Yessonarah. Great is your authority and great is your suuwasuu!”

  “I have always thought that it would be very fine to have either one of those things,” said Terra.

  “No longer will this human be called Earthworm!” the king continued, shouting out to the whole room. “From now on, her name is Kaetarrnaya Suusuuesth
o Saskhorha: Stands Up Tall With A King!”

  At that moment, half a dozen warriors rushed into the throne room.

  “Great King, Great King!”

  “Why are you interrupting me?” Hsrandtuss demanded.

  “An army from Xecheon has crossed the River Ssukhas! It is an invasion, Great King! We are being attacked!

  Chapter Eight: The Baxters and the Colbshallows

  Kieran Baxter smiled across the table at his wife. Between them, arrayed across Café Idella’s yellow springtime tablecloth were two sets of fine silverware and two white porcelain teacups with saucers and a matching teapot. In the center of the table was a yellow rose in a crystal budvase. When he noticed that she didn’t return his smile, his face began to fall.

  “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

  “No, nothing’s wrong exactly. It’s just that this is such an expense. I could make you tea at home.”

  “But I wanted to treat you.” He frowned. “And you should take it easy in your condition.”

  “Did you see the prices on the menu by the door?”

  “We can afford it.”

  “You must think me terribly ungrateful,” she said, looking down.

  “Yes I do, but I’ll forgive you this once.”

  “Well, if it isn’t the Baxters?” said Aalwijn Finkler, stopping beside their table, picking up the teapot, and filling their cups. “I don’t often see you in my establishments. I was beginning to think that you had something against me.”

  “No, of course not,” said Bryony. “It’s just that, well, the price…”

  “The lady is frugal,” said Baxter, with a wave.

  “There is nothing wrong with that. Mind your pfennigs and your marks will follow. Still, there’s also nothing wrong with treating oneself now and again. You spend your days catering to your husbands needs. Let someone cater to yours, just for today.” The restaurateur turned to Baxter. “Will you leave yourselves in my hands.”

 

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