"Very. But if you betray them, why should I believe you won't betray us?"
"No percentage." Halagar told him. "I know what you're going to do and that will make the whole mission moot anyway, since there's no way I can practically do it from this geographic point and I know it, and since in less than a full week the spell would dissolve of its own accord, wouldn't it? I keep my commissions, but not when they are obviously beyond my ability to perform."
The adept smiled. "Now I am very interested. Where is this Boday?"
"Not so fast. First, I want that slavery spell transferred to me. Second, I want an officer's rank in your forces, and protection and safe reward at the end, if I serve loyally and honorably and survive."
The adept shrugged. "Sounds fair enough. Very well, as a demonstration." He walked over to Charley, who was now livid and suddenly felt no loyalty or attachment to Halagar at all and a very strong urge to warn Dorion. The adept knelt down and made a few passes with his hand, however, and she suddenly stiffened and went into a deep trance.
"Fascinating," he said aloud to himself. "She's got a regular bundle of stuff in there. Even demon spells. She's got a familiar, too! Where is it?"
"In the saddle roll," Halagar replied, but even as he turned to look at the horse he saw the shape of the cat leap from the bedroll and run like hell through the startled soldiers and out of sight. Attempts by the Hedum to catch him proved more comical than effective, and he was soon well away into the countryside.
"Forget it, then," the adept told him. "Just make sure it gets no more of her blood. That's the way to kill them. If it shows up, don't kill it that'll only cause problems. Trap it and let it starve. They're devoted but generally not very bright. All right." He fumed back to Charley. "Girl, what is your native language?"
"English," she responded dully.
"All right," he responded in clear but heavily accented English, "now listen to me. I am telling you a secret and you will believe it. Now I tell you that Halagar is Boolean. Boolean and Halagar are the same. He chooses to use the name Halagar for now and so should you, but only you and he and I know that he is really Boolean, your lord and master. You know it, you believe it to be true, and nothing, no one, no evidence, no thing, shall convince you otherwise. He is your lord, your master, and your god and you belong to him and must always obey him. You are his to do with as he wills. When I snap my fingers you will not remember that this has happened but you will suddenly know and realize this as if it were divine revelation and you will believe and act accordingly. Also, your cat familiar is an evil creature, a demon who wants to harm your master. If he tries to contact you, you will shut him out and never seek him out, and you will never let him feed upon you. if it tries to contact you, you will not understand what it is saying nor obey, but you will tell your master. Now… three, two, one…." He snapped his fingers, then got up and turned to Halagar.
"It won't hold if she actually meets the real Boolean," he told the mercenary, "but in a few more days that won't be a problem. In fact, upon Boolean's demise the spell will be permanently affixed, replacing the original, until your own demise. Now, what about this Boday?"
"If we're seen to be safely leaving, in no more than a few hours she will try and walk right in here with Dorion," he told the adept. "And she has the same slave spell Shari has. so she'll be easy to lead away and very cooperative."
"I see. Now about how powerful is this Dorion?"
Halagar smiled. "I seriously doubt if Master Dorion can successfully palm a card or make a coin vanish. He used to work for Boolean but the old boy exiled him to Yobi in the Kudaan, apparently for incompetence. This was supposed to be how he'd get back in."
The adept suddenly reached up and Halagar felt a tug on his hair. "Hey! What?"
The adept took out a pouch and put a lock of the mercenary's hair inside, then put away his small clippers. "Just a bit of insurance that you will have no second thoughts and wilt stay on our side," he said lightly. "With this, I can curse you anywhere in Akahlar."
For Charley, sitting there, things became momentarily confused and then suddenly there was no confusion at all. When things had been going wrong the Master had suddenly revealed himself and his power to her and all was suddenly clear. Now she understood that Halagar was Boolean in disguise and thus her true master. It came as a complete shock, like a bolt from the blue, that revealed his power, but now everything was in place. She did not understand what he was doing or why, but it was not her place to do so. Such powerful beings were more than human; she could no more comprehend them or truly question them than a pet could comprehend or question the actions of their owner. In fact, that's just how she felt—like a pet dog, there to serve and obey, unquestioning, dependent, too low to comprehend.
Halagar was none too pleased about an adept having a part of him but it was a small price to pay to resolve his future. He came over to her, untied her hands, and saw in her face and demeanor the great change wrought within her. "This will be our secret," he told her, "to be revealed to no one. From now on you are Shan, slave girl of Halagar. That's your only identity and your only loyalty. Now, come—give me your hand. We must ride. We must not be late for their big show."
"Yes, Master," she responded, and that was all there was to it.
Dorion had been watching from the null, and while he had some bad feelings when they were held up by the adept, seeing them mount up and ride off made him feel relieved. Maybe they were going to make it after all!
Boday had used her kit to paint elaborate and colorful designs on her face and upper torso. She certainly looked different— like some primitive savage, and maybe it would do. Dorion played with a simple by-the-book illusory spell that would make his robe appear to be some uniform, but when he saw the adept he knew that his simple and stock tricks would be of no avail. The hell with it; he would wing it as he was.
They mounted up and headed for the gate. The Hedum challenged them as it had challenged the first two, but the adept came out from his tent quickly and bade them come inside. The magician was just beginning to feel confidence returning when the adept said, "Well, brother-in-magic, I thank you for bringing us that which we have long sought."
Dorion frowned. "I do not understand, brother."
"Sure you do. You are Dorion and this is Boday, mate of the one we have sought for so long. Don't look so shocked or come up with any denials, your comrade betrayed you. And don't try anything unless you wish to test your own powers against mine."
Dorion hesitated, but he had too much respect for what it took to get that black robe, and too much understanding of how little power he himself possessed to do it. "No, brother, it's your game."
The adept smiled. "Let me make a bit of adjustment in our rather colorful slave here so that she believes me to be her true master, and then we can depart."
"Depart for where?"
The adept smiled. "Why, we are going where you wanted to go. To Masalur hub! There we'll watch me final demonstration of My Lord Klittichom's power and then meet up with some more of my brethren, and then together we will reunite this woman with her love, ran all too brief and sad reunion, I fear. And with those two steps we will erase forever the last hope of the old order in this world."
Out in the woods, Shadowcat had no luck in contacting Charley; she had shut him out entirely, even to the visual link, and now, with just she and Halagar on a single horse, it was clear that he could not hope to keep up with them. It was time to think it out.
The imp was a minor demon charged and bound to Yobi, who had no true existence in this dimensional level without inhabiting a body. Yobi had placed him inside the cat when Charley had selected it, and since then the imp had maintained himself through her blood energy while maintaining me cat body in the usual way.
Trapped in the body, which he needed to have corporeal existence on this plane, he needed her blood to survive, to replace the type of energy that was part and parcel of the very atmosphere and makeup of the nether-hell to which the imp was
native. By preying upon locals he might sustain himself for some weeks, but the link was to Charley and the energy level would be down at the very time he needed it the most. Worse, the locals here would probably not be Akhbreed and their blood, let alone blood type, was probably unsuited to his needs. Without Charley, he would die.
He cursed himself for not simply tearing Halagar's throat out one night as he'd been sorely tempted to do. Instead, he'd kept her in the courtesan mind-set, having learned of the spell from her own brain, so that she could not betray the full facts about herself to the man the imp had never liked or trusted. He could not destroy the cat body deliberately; that was against his nature and the rules here. He could provoke a killing, which would free him, but that would only take him back either to the nether-hell or perhaps to Yobi's laboratory in the Kudaan, very far from here. It was a last-chance option, but it might well be too late if they killed Boolean.
Looking out from the bushes, he saw the Hedum bring up a sleek coach with six fast horses. To his surprise he saw the Hedum driver get down and Boday climb up and take the reins. Bewitched, certainly, and under the control of the evil ones. Two Hedum put large chests and blankets and bedrolls on top of the carriage in the luggage rack and secured them, 'then jumped back down, and Dorion emerged from the tent with the black-clad adept and both got into the coach. Dorion looked unhappy but not bewitched, which might or might not be some advantage. Shadowcat wondered what blood type both the magician and Boday were.
He eyed the luggage rack and judged where the coach had to pass and the probable speed of it when it did, then looked around for a convenient and climbable tree. It might be for nothing, he knew, but it seemed the obvious thing to do.
* * *
The rebel forces around Masalur were so confident that they even had bleachers erected for the big shots.
It was a far thicker but better organized crowd than the one back at Tishbaal; only the best rebel troops were here, all well-trained and eager to see some real action. They, and their support troops, remained relatively apart from the others, who seemed to be of all races, shapes, and sizes. Here, too, were large numbers of robed magicians and sorcerers of all ranks, although Third Rank types dominated with a smattering of black-clad adepts, and there were very few with the colorful robes of the Second Rank. The fact that there were any at all was impressive to me observers. The one thing they all had in common was that they were on the outs with their own establishment, either having been changed or malformed or having committed some political or ethical violations that had at best estranged them from their own kind and at worst embittered them towards it.
Here, too, surprisingly, were a fair number of distinguished-looking and not so distinguished-looking Akhbreed; men, and some women, of obvious wealth or power in key areas with their own axes to grind, hoping to carve out wider niches in the wreckage the new order would leave, and very useful to ones like Klittichom. Men like Duke Alon Pasedo, whose family was barred by Akhbreed law and spells from coming this distance, but who had many grudges against his kingdom and many friends among those who sought to inherit this world. There were a lot of Pasedos about, although they were dressing plainly and keeping a low profile. There was no use in giving any of the colonial troops who would have to fight in this, any idea that they might also be serving the interests of some Akhbreed types.
Most of the Akhbreed on hand, however, had gotten the slave treatment. Much of the stands, the temporary buildings, field kitchens, and pit toilets had been built by them, and vast numbers continued to do the manual labor and dirty work of maintaining the whole place. They weren't really needed to the extent they were being used, but the rebel command staff guessed rightly that the sight of them in such low situations and so debased would keep morale among the native troops high.
The Hedum acted as the traffic cops, keeping the various factions separate and out of each other's way. They were polite but very firm and imposed a sense of order and strength on the vast assemblage.
One look at such a mighty, organized, and confident force and Halagar knew he had made the right choice. Any Chief Sorcerer who would remain bunkered inside his hub and allow this so close to him was another who was more smoke than fire, a sure sign of the system's rotten core.
Somehow, this Klittichom had stumbled onto the great power that me Storm Princess possessed. He probably wasn't the first, but he was the first to realize the weakness in the center of the system after so many thousands of years; to realize that he might get away with using that power simply because his colleagues in sorcery could not believe that they were not impregnable. To have godlike power means nothing in the end if you have not the wisdom for it.
The Hedum traffic director pointed him towards a small three-sided tent pavilion. Sitting there were three officers, a senior and two juniors. One had pea-green skin and bug eyes and looked more like a giant lizard than a variation of humanity; another was bald, squat, with an incredibly wide face and hairless skull from which protruded two bony horns like great but misplaced carnivorous teeth. The third was a tiny, gnomelike creature with huge upturned pointed ears, a rather stupid expression, eyes like dinner plates, and who looked like he had been born old. None were races he recognized, and the quality of their uniforms and the sameness of them in this vast jigsaw army indicated that they were probably from Klittichom's own staff.
"Yes, name?" the gnome asked him.
"Halagar, sir. A mercenary officer by trade but a volunteer to this cause. I have proved it by capturing the fugitive Boday and turning him over to the adept at the Masalur border."
"Indeed. Well, welcome, then, sir. We have no billeting for such as you—unexpected, that is—but you are welcome to set up anywhere over there near the tree line where you can find space. There's a cold field kitchen there and pit toilets just in the woods. I would suggest, to avoid problems, that you remain in that area. You'll get as good a view as anyone from that camp." He looked over at Charley. "And this, I take it, is a prize of battle?"
"My personal slave," he responded.
"Well, the rules here are that all slaves are put in the pens and assigned work and cared for en masse, so to speak. It avoids, ah, nasty situations."
"I understand, but for practical reasons she should stay with me. She is blind."
"Indeed? Then why keep her, then? What good is she?"
The horned giant looked at Charley and then over at the gnome. "Stupid question," he rumbled.
"I, uh oh, I see. Yes, ahem! Welt, she'll have to be with you at all times, even when taking a leak, and because she's blind I suggest you see one of the smiths and get a collar and chain for her so you can stake her and not have to constantly be watching out for her. Just see one of them along here they'll do it."
He nodded. "Thank you, sirs. I believe this is going to be a most interesting new time for me as well as Akahtar."
The green-dunned one looked over at him and said, in a surprisingly pleasant and mellow upper-class accent, "Tell me, as a soldier of fortune and professional, what do you think of the operation so far?"
Halagar shrugged. "To be frank, sir, it shows the other side as stupid, dry-rotted, and impotent. If I were this sorcerer over there, I'd have waited until everything was in place over here, then sent my entire army in with everything they had backed by all the sorcerers and sorcery at my command. As cramped and exposed and backed up as you are here, your automatic weapons would shoot as many of your own people as them, and you would be broken and destroyed. The fact that be has not done this shows that be must lose, and he's supposed to be one of the smarter ones."
"You are not alone in that line of thinking," the gnome told him. "Many of us recommended a low-key and covert build-up even with the organizational problems that would cause for that very reason. However, we tried build-ups of this kind in a dozen areas where we could bring a concentration of forces, and the reactions were always the same. If they will not help one another, our sorcery is at least the equal of their sorcer
y out in the open like this. You do them an injustice when you think them stupid, however. Think of the cost in lives and materiel to put down something like this. Their militia is designed to hold and maintain the colonies, not fight a frontal war. Far easier to endure, and allow our own weaknesses to consume us."
"The only weakness we have," A homed giant picked up, "is that UK basic compactness and circular shape of the hubs makes them ideal defensive positions both from a military and magic point of view, and we have a less than cohesive force. They can reinforce from the center as needed, either power or men or both. They know it, and that's why they sit, waiting us out, believing we'll not be able to keep our forces together for a long siege and it might even be the correct strategy under the old rules. This is a collection of independent races not used to dealing as equals with anyone other than themselves. Different, squabbling, with little in common except the thirst for freedom. But you remove that center out there, before your own forces begin to fall apart, and you have them. Tomorrow, at three in the morning, we will remove that center and attack from three sides. Tomorrow night, we will turn that center from enemies into automatic allies."
"Uh, do you have a Mandan cloak?" the green one asked him.
"No. We lost most of our supplies early on. Would there be a problem from this point? I know Changewinds never cross nulls."
"That's true, but it means you should wait a day before going in yourself and seeing the aftermath, just in case there are spin-offs. With a storm of this concentration the weakness down to the Seat of Probability remains unstable, and in spite of buying, begging, borrowing, or stealing every Mandan gold cloak we could lay our hands on for several years we haven't nearly enough. Well, just watch from here and wait. When it's all secure, we'll see if we can spare some for people like you. Thank you, that's all."
Halagar set up the bedroll in an area that had a fair number of Akhbreed, including some of his own kind who he recognized and who recognized him. Some were men like himself, who saw this side as the winner and thus the more profitable to be on; others were pirates, bandit chiefs, and other very tough customers, some of whom he'd gone after as a lawman.
Changewinds 03 - War of the Maelstrom Page 21