A Plague of Wizards

by Wesley Allison

  “That wouldn’t have been love. That would have been rape.”

  “It wouldn’t matter,” she said. “Or maybe I just don’t know the difference anymore. I’ve lost my humanity. I need you to give it back to me.”

  She pressed her lips to his, sliding her tongue into his mouth as her hands roamed over his body. He lost himself to the extreme excitement, his body leading him toward pleasure and his mind simply shutting off. He pressed her back onto the bed. Her hands were working to remove his clothes so fast that they just seemed to fly off by magic. Their naked bodies pressed together, as she wrapped her long, lean legs around his waist, and the last four years became nothing more than a dream.

  Later, he looked at the clock on the nightstand to find that it was late afternoon. He crawled to his feet and staggered to the washstand. Pouring the water from the pitcher into the basin, he splashed it over his face. He turned and looked back at the woman sprawled across the bed. In addition to the fourteen tattoo-like magic sigils that he knew so well, she had an image of a dragon that practically covered her left leg, its tail near her foot and its head resting on the side of her buttock. He recognized it as Zoey, in dragon form of course. While he was staring, she pulled her knees up under her and lifted her firm bottom, shaking it at him.

  “Like what you see?”

  “Oh God!”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “No. Oh, Bryony. What have I done?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll decide what to do about her tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “We’ll find someone to take care of her until she has your little Baxter. Then she’ll go away. I could even make her forget about you, though strictly speaking I did promise not to do anything magical to her.”

  “No. You won’t do anything to her, magical or otherwise. Don’t you understand? I love her. I love her and I don’t love you. I don’t love you, Senta.”

  She rolled over and spread her legs, cupping her breasts in her hands. “But you want me,” she said in a singsong voice. “You can’t resist me. Never could. Never will.”

  “You really are a monster,” he growled, picking up his clothes and dressing as quickly as possible. “Don’t you feel any different?”

  “Oh… oh… did you return my humanity to me… with your magic seed?” she burst out laughing. “Oh sweet mother of Kafira, you are precious. You’re like a woman. Did you know that? Did you think you were living in a fairy tale? Your magic trouser wand would turn the evil witch into a sweet little girl and you could go back to your clueless wife, feeling all warm inside for doing such a good deed. For the last couple of hours you’ve been rutting on top of me like an animal. You won’t forget that!”

  “I’m leaving!” he shouted, now mostly dressed.

  “Go!” she called after him. “I got what I want… for now!”

  * * * * *

  Saba Colbshallow entered through the kitchen, as usual. He was surprised to find Loana there, peering down into a large pot on the stove.

  “Well, hello there. What are you about?”

  “I’m making soup,” she replied. “I can’t tell if it needs more salt.”

  “Generally, you can’t tell that by looking. You have to take a taste.”

  “I did taste it, stupid. Here. Try some.” She lifted a spoon to his lips.

  “Mmm. Summer squash. No. I would say the salt is exactly right.”

  “Perfect. Go sit down at the table.”

  He found two place settings and took his usual chair. His wife followed him in, carrying two bowls of steaming orange soup. A basket of pumpernickel rolls was already placed in the middle of the table.

  “Where are the children?” he asked.

  “Your mother took them out for the evening.”

  “I see.”

  “Any idea how long Sen is going to be with us?”

  “None,” he said. “It seems that Senta has no interest in talking to me. We’ll just have to wait and see. We used to be friends. I guess one night of stupidity ruined that.”

  They sipped their soup in silence for several minutes.

  “It was the power, wasn’t it?” asked Loana suddenly.

  “What?”

  “It was the power that attracted you. She’s very powerful.”

  “Maybe,” he admitted.

  “It’s a good thing it was Senta,” she laughed. “Otherwise you might have found yourself in an affair with the Governor.”

  “She’s too old for me.”

  He took a roll from the basket and buttered it, offering it to her.

  “No. I just put it out because I know how much you like pumpernickel.”

  They finished their meal.

  “This was nice.” He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a velvet box. “Perfect timing, I guess.”

  “What is it?” asked Loana.

  “Open it and see.”

  She did as directed and found a gold bracelet. She pulled it from the box, acting for all the world like an archaeologist with a Royal Argrathian artifact. Then she carefully wrapped it around her wrist. He helped her with the clasp.

  “Sweet Kafira, it’s beautiful… and expensive, no doubt. Can we afford this?”

  “Yes. You see, the other day, I received an award for bravery…”

  “Where is it? If they gave you a medal, we must display it.”

  “It’s in my desk drawer. The point is that the mayor also gave me a watch. It was very nice and very fancy, but I already have a watch. So I turned it in and got the bracelet.”

  “But your watch is so old,” she said.

  “My father’s watch is good enough for me, and some day, I’ll pass it on to DeeDee’s husband, Kafira willing. Besides, the other watch was a wristwatch. Who wants to wear a watch on his wrist, when you can keep it safely in your pocket? It’s pointless.”

  “I think this is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever given me,” she beamed, holding it up to the light. “Now, wait here. I’ve got pudding in the froredor.”

  “Homemade soup and a pudding,” he said. “Now this is something worth coming home to.”

  * * * * *

  Bryony was standing in the center of the parlor when Baxter entered.

  “New draperies, I think, to go with the new sofa.” When she turned and saw his face, her smile fell away.

  “Something has happened,” he said.

  His wife’s eyes immediately filled to the brim and her lip began trembling.

  “You’re leaving me. Aren’t you?”

  “No!”

  She ran three steps and leapt onto him, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

  “You’re not leaving me?”

  “No. I’ll never leave you.” He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them. “But something has happened.”

  “I won’t hear it,” she said. “If you’re not leaving me, nothing else matters.”

  She dropped her feet to the floor and pressed her face into his chest. Cupping her chin, he pulled her head back to look into her eyes. A typhoon of tears had washed her cheeks and a little bit of snot was coming out of one nostril. He kissed her gently on the lips.

  “I will never leave you.”

  “Good.” She sniffed. “Now go wash up. I almost have your dinner ready for the table.”

  He nodded and started toward the bedroom.

  “Kieran?”

  He stopped and looked back. “Yes?”

  “Take a bath, please.”

  Chapter Eighteen: What Happened in Yessonarah

  The lizzie servant finished painting Terra’s face, half red and half black. Terra added a yellow circle on each of her cheekbones. Then the servant slicked back the girl’s hair, which had grown long enough to cover her scars, using fragrant plant oil. This allowed her to arrange the feathered headdress on the Terra’s head.

  The young human girl arrived at the dining room and took her seat. Though it was almost filled with lizzie nobles
, the king had not yet arrived, and no one would get any food until one of his wives had fed him. The human girl had only sat for a minute or so when her stomach let out a loud growl. The female lizzies on either side of her tried to look without turning their heads towards her.

  Terra turned to look over her left shoulder at the sound of people arriving. In marched the queens: first Szakhandu, followed by Tokkenoht, Sirris, and finally Ssu. The first three took their seats, while Ssu went to the food table to begin assembling the king’s meal. Hsrandtuss at last stomped in. He looked unusually sober. As he walked to his seat, he looked toward Terra, and spotting her, threw a gesture toward her that the girl had never seen. Suddenly uneasy, remembering Bessemer’s comments that the great lizzie might be looking for a new wife, she gave him a simple wave. He took his seat just as Ssu brought him his dinner.

  Now that the king had been fed, females from around the room got up to prepare meals for their males, or in a few cases just for themselves. Terra fit into the latter category and picked up a bronze tray, filling it from the food table.

  “Tsaua, Kaetarrnaya.”

  Terra looked to see Hsrandtuss’s High Priestess/Queen standing next to her.

  “You should try some of these fruit. I hear humans enjoy them.”

  “Yes. We call them grapes.” She grabbed a bunch and tossed it onto her tray next to three roasted birds that she had already acquired.

  “I have something for you,” said Tokkenoht. “I got it from the human traders.”

  She handed Terra a little wooden box, about an inch wide and two inches long, with a sliding lid.

  “What is it?”

  “It is daksuu. It is for your food.”

  The human girl slid the box open to find it filled with what looked like fine gravel or very course sand. She held it to her face and stuck her tongue in.

  “Salt! Kafira bless you a thousand times.”

  Tokkenoht nodded.

  “Can I ask you something? When he came in, the Great King made a gesture toward me that I’ve never seen. It was like this.” She recreated the gesture.

  “That is a warrior sign. It means victory.”

  “Oh, good. Then he doesn’t want to marry me.”

  Tokkenoht burst into a hissing fit that was the lizzie equivalent of an uncontrollable belly laugh.

  “That would never work,” she said, still struggling to get control of herself. “It simply would not physiologically work.” Suddenly she stopped and looked toward the king. “Then again, such an alliance would be unprecedented and very valuable, even if it was not a real marriage.”

  Terra leaned on the table, as her head swam.

  “Don’t worry. Hsrandtuss knows humans better than anyone else. You’re hut… your family would never allow such a thing, would they?”

  “I’m quite sure they would not.”

  “It would mean war?”

  “Maybe. In any case, it would bring Hsrandtuss nothing but hatred. And I would certainly be disowned.”

  “Hsrandtuss knows this. You have nothing to fear. Besides, the other wives would have to approve of you, and I would not have a human zrant as the wife of my husband.”

  Terra realized that she had been insulted just as she set her plate in front of her seat. She climbed into her chair and looked at her meal—a huge feast of roasted birds, grilled fish, grapes, and what she was fairly sure was some kind of white asparagus.

  Just then, the door opened at the far end of the room and two lizzies were marched in, both wrapped in chains and escorted by a dozen warriors. They walked morosely to stand before the king.

  “What is the meaning of this?” growled Hsrandtuss, looking at one of the guards.

  “We were told to bring them before you, Great King.”

  Hsrandtuss deftly hopped over the table.

  “Get these chains off them!”

  The warriors hurried to follow his command, but it took a minute. As they worked, the lizzie king continued speaking.

  “King Oreolock of Xecheon, please excuse the rudeness of this meeting. These fools understood the meaning of my order, but not the manner. My intention was to invite you to dine with me. That reminds me.” He looked over his shoulder. “Sirris, Tokkenoht, get food for our guests.” He looked back to see Oreolock, clearly at a loss as to what to do or say. As the last chain fell away, Hsrandtuss put his arm around the smaller king’s shoulders and led him around the table to a spot left of his own.

  Terra realized at the last second that the seat for which the defeated king was destined was directly opposite hers. As he sat down, Oreolock looked up and saw her—starting.

  “That is Kaetarrnaya. She is my tiny human. You will know you are a great king when you have your own tiny human.”

  Terra threw a gesture at him that, which was technically the same as the one he had given, only with the hand facing the other direction. It would have, at home, gotten her face slapped by her mother or auntie.

  “Like this!” said Hsrandtuss, give her the victory sign.

  He made his way around the table to where the other lizzie stood. The now unfettered male straightened up to his full height. He was several inches taller than Hsrandtuss, but leaner, and his skin was remarkably unblemished for a warrior, let alone one who had been in as many battles as he had reportedly been. Terra leaned over so that she could see his tail. It was just as pristine as the rest of him. He would be the object of much female attention, she surmised.

  “Tokkenttot, my old friend!” boomed Hsrandtuss, grasping the shoulders of the taller lizzie. “It is so good to see you again. It has been what—six years? I remember you giving Yessonar a great load of coal at our audience. What a great story. I tell it all the time. Come sit by me and eat. Your sister has prepared your meal.”

  “Sister. I don’t know this word.”

  “It is a human word,” explained the king, leading him to a chair just two places to the left of Terra. “It’s not important. Sit and feast with us.”

  “Why are you doing this?” asked Tokkenttot. “We made war against you.”

  “Oh, that’s all in the past. It is time for our people to forget the disagreements of the earlier times. We can be great if we join together. We can dominate the humans instead of the other way around—at least here in our own land.”

  Tokkenttot leaned over and looked at the diminutive human seated just feet away.

  “Are you sure your tiny human is not a spy?” he asked Hsrandtuss.

  “I am positive she’s a spy. In fact, that is her whole reason for being here—to spy on us and try to figure us out for the humans. She will go home after a time and report to the human matriarch, who is her hut elder, and to her brother.”

  “Brother. Another human word.”

  “True. It means member of the same hut, basically. He is a zrant, and yet has already gained a certain amount of power and authority. I admit I am unsure how this is possible. Perhaps I need to send one of my wives to live in the hut of the human matriarch.” The king looked at Terra. “Is there room in the matriarch’s hut for Szakhandu?”

  Szakhandu hissed loudly.

  “It is not as big as your palace, Great King,” said Terra, “but there is plenty of room.”

  * * * * *

  Terra entered the hearth room. Hsrandtuss as lying there on his belly with Ssu pressed up against him. Old Tsollot was the only other one present, asleep on the opposite side of the room. Terra squatted down next to the king. Taking the bottle of oil, she poured a quarter cup or so into her palm and began rubbing it onto the king’s back.

  “You can press harder than that,” said Hsrandtuss.

  “I actually don’t think I can.”

  “Well, do your best, little human.”

  “I was surprised at your behavior toward your vanquished enemies,” she said.

  “Did you look at their faces?” Hsrandtuss hissed with pleasure. “They didn’t know what to think. They’re probably still expecting to be executed.”

/>   “Will they be?”

  “Of course not. I might be able to use them to my advantage. Not, Oreolock. He’s a worthless sack of ssotook. Tokkenttot is a different matter though. For as much as he’s been a rival of mine, he is a brilliant leader and a strong warrior. He would be a great addition to Yessonarah.”

  “I suppose that’s true,” she allowed. “Then you would be able to dominate the humans.”

  He lifted his head to look at her.

  “Eventually I will dominate the humans, just as I will dominate all the other lizzie city-states. But fear not, Kaetarrnaya. I will not make war on your people. I have had great respect for your warriors, but I find that even so I have underestimated your kind. When a tiny little zrant can stand on the battlefield and face an enemy a hundred times stronger… without fleeing…without wailing in fear—that is a people worthy of respect.”

  “Thank you, Great King.”

  “So Kaetarrnaya, what do your people do to celebrate a victory in war?”

  “We usually build some monument—generally tall and pointy. We also usually have a parade.”

  “What is parade?”

  “It’s like a procession through the streets, showing off the warriors, sometimes the spoils of war or prisoners. Often weapons are shown. Lots of flags.”

  “We shall have a parade,” said Hsrandtuss. “We will show our people how great we are. We will show off my machineguns.”

  “A good idea, Great King,” said Terra.

  “Where do we get flags? I have seen the humans carrying them. It always seemed like a waste of a warrior on the battlefield, but I can see how they would be good in this parade.”

  “If we can procure cloth, Great King, I can instruct your females in making flags.”

  “Wonderful. Kaetarrnaya, you have proven as valuable to me as any of my wives.”

  “On the subject of family, Great King, I think it is time that I return to mine.”

  “But you haven’t been here very long at all!”

  “No, but I believe I’ve been away long enough. The traders are leaving in eight days for Port Dechantagne. I thought I would catch a ride with them.”