by C S Marks
“Do you think they might try to poison us?” whispered Carmyn, who sat at Azori’s right.
“I don’t think so. We are much too interesting and unusual for them to kill us as yet…they are too curious. Still, I’d like to be certain.”
“When you saw their flag, you were dismayed,” said Rogond in a low voice. “Is that why you refused to give your true name? What does it mean? Do you know who this Queen is?”
“My, but I hadn’t realized I was so hungry,” said Azori with false heartiness. “Perhaps I will partake after all.”
At that moment, three very large, well-muscled guards entered the room. “Oh, dear,” said Azori as the color drained from his face again. Rogond never got an answer to his questions, and a moment later the Queen swept into the room.
She was the largest, tallest woman the Company had ever beheld, clad all in leather and steel and flamboyance. Her eyes were the soft, violet-grey of evening mists over an angry sea, and she was crowned with hair dyed as blue as the silken walls of the tent. Her complexion was tawny, with high color in her cheeks. She was big, she was tough, and she was not to be trifled with. She drew herself up before her “guests,” scanning over their faces with interest. It was doubtful that she had ever seen Elves or a dwarf before, and her eyes lingered on each member of the Company, her expression curious until she beheld Azori, who was trying his best to appear to be someone else. Then her eyes went cold as her painted lips drew into a knowing smile.
“Hello, Azori,” she said in a musical but arresting feminine voice. “It is so good to see you. Very, very good!”
Azori looked up and down both sides of the table at his friends, who were staring at him in astonishment. Then he drew himself up and turned back toward the tall, impressive woman, his face and voice attempting to be ingratiating, without success. “Hello, Tansy,” he said in a tone indicating that she was quite possibly the last person in the world he wanted to encounter. “It’s good to see you, too.”
Chapter 14
SEVEN TEMPTATIONS
Everyone in the Company sat staring at this huge, impressive woman who, apparently, was well acquainted with Azori. From the look on his face any relationship that might have existed in times past had not ended well—in fact, his expression was reminiscent of a dog who is thinking of bringing up what it has recently eaten. The large woman seemed not to notice, sweeping up to the head of the table with a flourish.
“You will all stand when the Queen enters, and remain standing until she bids otherwise,” said a loud-voiced man who, apparently, was some sort of herald. The Company rose and bowed as the woman sat heavily upon a low, carved mahogany chair upholstered in rich deep blue brocade.
“You may sit,” she said, fluttering a large-yet-feminine hand.
Gaelen looked over at Nelwyn. “The Queen? Are they serious?” she whispered in the Elven-tongue.
“You may call me Queen Tansy,” said the woman, with an imperious look at Azori. “It has been awhile since I was favored with your company, my dear old friend. Much has changed since our paths last crossed, and my situation has seen…well, both ups and downs.”
Azori bowed. “I would not have thought to ever see your lovely face outside of Fómor. To what do I owe this unexpected and sublime pleasure?”
“There will be time later for talk and meaningless flattery,” said Tansy. “Where is your brother, Azok?” Azori did not answer.
“Never mind,” said Tansy. “Let us eat and drink, and be entertained! The sun is setting, and I am anxious to learn more of you and of your journey here. I see you have brought me some interesting new friends.” Her eyes swept both sides of the long table, alighting for a moment upon the Elves. “What sort of beings are these? They seem to be Elves, but I cannot imagine any Elves associating with the likes of you.” This last statement amused her, and she laughed. Then she took a very large gulp of wine from her goblet, and looked directly at Galador. “Well? Are you?”
Galador did not reply immediately, raising one eyebrow as if to ask, Am I what?
Azori saved him the trouble. “Yes, my dear Tansy, they are…”
“Queen Tansy,” said the herald.
“I beg your pardon,” Azori continued. “Queen Tansy, they are Elves. And these men are northerners—one has been my companion for years. His name is Hallagond, and the other is his brother, Rogond. This woman is named Carmyn, and she hails from a small settlement to the southeast. This other woman is my sister, Estle.”
Tansy looked the Company up and down for a moment, lingering for a moment upon Fima. “I didn’t know that men like you had sisters. And is this actually a dwarf?”
“I am Fima, son of Khima, Lore-master to the Company,” said Fima. “When the time comes for you to hear our tale, I will be the one who tells it.” He bowed his head. “I am but your humble servant, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“No doubt you are,” said Tansy, her eyes narrowing. “But you should know that your tale had better be convincing, Lore-master Fima. I will know it if your words are untrue.” She looked hard at Fima then, as if trying to decide whether her admonition had made him uncomfortable, but he did not appear to be concerned.
“I look forward to many intriguing evenings with such interesting and unique guests,” said Tansy at last. “I must admit, it puzzles me…why would Elves have made their way so far south? It is said they do not venture here.” She looked around at Gaelen, Nelwyn, and Galador, none of whom had spoken a word to her. “They don’t talk much, do they?” she said to Azori.
“Perhaps not at first, but they tell the most wonderful stories once they loosen up. I imagine my friends are hungry and thirsty at the moment, and are less inclined to be talkative.”
Azori knew what he was doing. There were several things that Corsairs loved, including food, drink, and other pleasures of the flesh. Rather high on their list was the love of a good story, especially stories about faraway lands and strange folk. The Elves and Fima would provide a nearly endless supply of entertainment—it was one of the things that would keep them all alive. As long as Tansy and her people were intrigued, the Company would survive. If Tansy grew bored, well…
“Let’s all eat and drink as much as we can hold, then!” the Queen proclaimed, helping herself to food and to more drink. She looked around the table at her guests, who were still unsure of what to do. “You heard me. Eat!” Those words, combined with menacing looks from several of the guardsmen standing by, convinced everyone to eat and drink their fill. It was a wonderful meal. Fima apparently thought it might be his last, if his enthusiasm was any indication. The excess and abandon of the Corsairs was infectious, and no one would leave the table hungry.
Afterward, Tansy called for entertainment to begin. She clapped her hands twice, and several fine, well-muscled dancers appeared, along with musicians. The dancers were young men, very fit and pleasing to look upon, their limbs oiled and graceful. They performed several most remarkable feats of tumbling and gymnastics, interspersed with movements and gyrations that might best be described as provocative. Tansy had gotten to her feet several times and moved to join them, swaying seductively in rhythm, obviously enjoying herself. At last they finished their performance and left the tent as Tansy and her men clapped and whistled in approval. Then she turned abruptly toward Fima, her cheeks still flushed and her eyes bright.
“Tell me your tale now, Lore-master, and spare no detail!”
Fima now wished that he had not partaken of quite so much wine, for he needed his wits about him. He was about to tell a long and elaborate lie to this very perceptive woman, and he could ask for no help from his friends, for they had no idea of what he was about to say. “If it please you, Your Highness, may I not just give you the bare essentials of the tale at this time? I am weary, and the wine has left me a little dizzy. I will do a much better job of entertaining you tomorrow…perhaps tonight I should merely inform?” He punctuated this statement with a deep, sonorous belch that reeked of
stale wine.
Tansy considered. “Very well,” she said. “You are all weary, no doubt, and if your tale will be better tomorrow, you may provide only the essentials this night.” She sighed as if disappointed, but then Galador spoke up.
“If Your Highness desires an elaborate tale this night, I will be happy to oblige. Elves do not grow weary as men do, and I will favor you and your people with stories of times long past. I have walked in this world for many an age, and I have seen many things. I will oblige you, if you wish it.”
“How wonderful!” said Tansy, turning back to Fima. “Tell us the basics of your tale, then, Lore-master. Your skills will be shown tomorrow.”
Fima told his version of the Company’s quest. “We have been traveling north from lands to the south and east of the city of Mumari, having gone there in search of Hallagond. We are returning to Dûn Bennas—there is a pestilence spreading from those lands, and the people to the north need to be informed so they may guard themselves from another potential outbreak of Plague. The pestilence is to the east, in the Stone Desert, at present, but Dûn Bennas must be warned. We came by this road because, well…we got ourselves into trouble in the lands near to the Sandstone. There are roads which we may no longer travel. We now intend to continue north to the Ambros, and follow its course upriver to the City.”
He looked hard at Tansy. “It’s a good thing that we are here to warn you and your folk of this pestilence…all the Children of Men must guard themselves. It’s still a long way off, but it may work its way here. I hope you will allow us to complete our task, and warn King Hearndin in Dûn Bennas. The Elves are anxious to return to their homes as well.”
Tansy had a rather enigmatic expression on her face as she considered all that she had heard. At last she spoke to Fima. “Why have I not heard of this until now? Usually, word of pestilence spreads fast among men. Why do you know of it?”
“Because we were in lands near to those affected,” said Fima looking Tansy directly in the eye. There was no wavering in his gaze, for he knew that all of their lives depended upon it.
“Are you certain that you did not carry this pestilence with you?” she said, still looking hard at him. Every man in the room unconsciously took a step back from the Company.
“We have been on the road for a long time,” said Fima. “This sickness strikes hard, and it strikes fast. Our men are perfectly healthy, as you can see. There is no danger from us.”
“Well, thank goodness for that,” said Tansy. “You were just getting interesting. It would be a shame to kill you all now just to be safe.”
She turned then to Azori, who was not certain he liked Fima’s tale of pestilence one bit. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes, I would agree,” said Azori. “Tansy, my dear and most lovely friend, will you not enlighten me as to what you and your men are doing here, so far from Fómor? My companions would no doubt enjoy hearing your story. If I did not know better, I might think that you have fallen on hard times. Perhaps we can assist you?”
Tansy laughed again, but there was menace in her eyes. “Oh, you would no doubt be most helpful, until you escaped, perhaps. And don’t try to beguile me, Azori! My memory is long, and I have forgotten none of the details of my last encounter with you, so save your promises. Yet you’re right. I am in exile, and all because of that viper, Ludor! He took my City from me and drove me forth into the wilderness. But he had best not rest easily upon the throne, for I am preparing to reclaim it!” She swayed slightly, as she had consumed a considerable quantity of wine, and her anger had unbalanced her.
“Ludor?” said Azori. “But I thought he was your consort. He surely has not taken the Great City of the Corsairs!”
“That blustering, sniveling, back-stabbing coward!” said Tansy in disgust. “Apparently he made his way across the sea to unknown lands and brought back an army. They were impressed with him for some reason.”
“There is nothing impressive about Ludor, begging your pardon” said Azori. “I can see why you are hurt and angry. At least if I had been deposed, I would like to have been deposed by someone other than my former consort. He must have commanded a mighty army.”
“I am weary of this subject,” said Tansy, and her eyes grew menacing again. Azori knew that she had suffered a near-fatal blow to her pride, and it was best if they did not speak of these matters again unless she brought them up herself. He looked over at Galador and nodded.
“Would you now like to hear a tale of the First Reckoning?” said Galador, taking the hint and rising to his feet.
Tansy took stock of his tall, straight frame and his beautiful, flawless features. Galador was very handsome and very masculine, and she was intrigued. She nodded, smiled, and moved to a well-upholstered dais, reclining upon it and inviting Galador to stand before her. The Company was directed to sit upon cushions at her feet and they were soon made comfortable, though they were surrounded by armed guards.
Galador told his tale, but Tansy did not hear the end of it, as she was soon fast asleep. Usually it did not bode well for the story-teller if he could not hold the Queen’s interest, and Galador, it seemed, did not have Fima’s gifts. Yet it did not matter, for Queen Tansy appreciated Galador’s other gifts, and she had already taken a shine to him.
It was fortunate that the Corsairs were lazier than they were wary, otherwise they might have housed their new “guests” in separate quarters. That would have meant more guards, more trips to and from the larder, and so on. This way they would only need watch one space. No one envied the guards their task, as guards must remain sober.
The Company had noticed that the Corsairs always seemed to be in at least a partial state of mild to profound inebriation, either because of drink, or weed, or perhaps other lesser-known and best-avoided substances. Azori explained that this was typical of them when they were on land. Corsairs are happiest when they are on the sea.
“Do not underestimate them, as even when they appear besotted they are dangerous,” he said. “They are simply more likely to lose control of their impulses, and more likely to laugh at you as they kill you. Never take them for granted.” He shook his head, remembering some of what he had seen on his last trip into Fómor.
“If they are unhappy, then why do they stay upon land?” asked Gaelen.
“You are unhappy in the desert, yet you are here because you must be,” said Hallagond. “Even the best mariners must make landfall, and the land is where the power is. Corsairs are ever-hungry for it. On a ship one may command the crew, but on land one might rule the world! Also, one may only hoard so much gold aboard ship. The Corsairs are legendary for their buried caches of treasure…a wise habit, so long as the caches can later be found! I have heard tales of the blackest-hearted and most terrible Scourges of the Sea, dreaded marauders who were all but invincible, who died wandering and witless because they simply could not locate the riches they had hidden, and it drove them mad. Even worse, some found their caches to discover that they had been robbed by other, more fortunate thieves! It’s enough to make a Corsair weep to hear of it.”
“Enough to make them cruise the seas in an endless quest for vengeance, more likely,” said Azori. “Never steal anything, no matter how insignificant, from a Fómorian. You may expect him to pursue you until he recovers it, kills you, or dies.”
“So, what can you tell us about our formidable hostess?” said Estle. “It would seem that you know her already. How deep is this hole we’re in?”
Azori sighed. “Let me put it this way,” he said. “There are others into whose clutches I would rather have fallen. Tansy may be convinced to release some of us. However, I very much doubt that we will all leave these lands alive. It would be most unusual.” He looked at the wide-eyed faces of his friends. “Don’t worry…I’ll be the first to go. She already bears a grudge.”
“For what, might I ask?” said Estle, who was now worried for him.
“I once denied her something she wanted,” said Azori. “I will say
no more.”
“Do they understand Elven-speech?” asked Gaelen.
“Unlikely,” said Azori. “However, remember that they are descended of the northern folk. Tuathan dialects have much in common with Elvish. I would be careful if I were you.”
“We must escape from this place at our earliest opportunity,” said Gaelen, whispering in Elvish. Azori and Estle glowered at her as Rogond translated.
“I cannot tell you how hopeless that notion is at this moment,” said Azori in a low voice. “We must remain here, at least for now, and try to ingratiate ourselves. Tansy won’t kill us so long as she finds us interesting. If I am any judge, she has already shown interest in Galador.”
“I beg your pardon?” said Galador.
“I do not need to understand Elvish, and you do not need an explanation for the look you saw in her eyes, my tall friend. If you didn’t notice, you must have been asleep. I have seen that look in her eyes before. She is taken with you, and worse, she is curious. You have just been assigned the exalted status of ‘cat-toy,’ O High Elf. One thing is certain—you had better be willing to play her game, or you are dead.”
“You obviously refused to play it, Azori, and yet you are not dead,” said Gaelen.
Galador had turned quite pale, and his hands shook slightly as he spoke his next words. “You cannot mean this. Are you saying that…that she would have me as a consort? That cannot happen. It is not within my power. Elves do not consort as a matter of convenience. My heart is given to one, and one alone.”
“I wish you luck in explaining that to her,” said Azori with a sigh. “Perhaps I am wrong, and she simply wishes to admire you. But that has not been my experience, alas. I’ll warrant she has now set her sights on tasting immortal fruit, and she won’t rest until she gets it. She’s not interested in your heart, anyway.”