Boday took the charcoal pencil and paper from her saddle pack and began to sketch. "You see, on a plateau, like so, with downward slopes and then high mountains around. It does not look like much, except for this bulge here in the center, but we think most of it is underground."
"There are fortifications along the downward slope into a V-shaped notch valley before the high mountains begin," Crim elaborated. "Hard to tell just what they were, but they looked dug in and sheltered. There's no question it's the place, though. There's no snow on top of it. Not a bit. You can see the warmth coming from it, and there's almost a little snowstorm where it meets the real cold air, but the stuff that falls never freezes."
"We think the main entry is down here, below the plateau, in the sides," Boday continued, as the sketch took on a remarkably detailed look that seemed almost three-dimensional. "It appears that there is a bridge that can be extended, so. making a connection to a fairly wide trail here, which is snow-covered but passable if you knew it."
"Except for a few rough edges here and there, it looks kind'a like a flying saucer," Sam commented. "Jeez! How the hell do we get in there?"
"We know Klittichom has very few Second Rank people with him," Yobi remarked, obliquely addressing Sam's question. "The odds are, unless he has one or two spares, they would all be needed to focus the mechanism when they begin their dirty work. I am quite confident that the three of us can take the operators, Klittichom included, or that we can take whatever spare people (who would be lesser, more inexperienced types) who would be left to guard and run defenses. The trouble is, we can not take both. Their combined power would require at least another three or four as strong as us."
Etanalon nodded. "I agree. From here, even now, I can sense the power level against us. Klittichorn is strong, but so are each of us. The others are mere shadows, but together they are formidable, particularly under their master's direction. If we are to have a chance, they must first be divided."
Boolean nodded, then looked first at Etanalon, then at Yobi. "You know what that means? We have nothing we can draw them out with—they know their strength and time is running out on them. They could go at any moment, but certainly no more than a week to ten days. After that, the child might well be born. They're not going to split themselves up now for any cause at all, or they would have sent some of them after Sam instead of Zamofir. In fact, if we wait for them, they'll have gathered in any of the others they might still have out there and be stronger. We must hit now!"
Yobi nodded back to him. "Yes, I think we understand what that means. The only way to have them divided is to have them divide themselves. That means Klittichom and probably three of his best directing the war, which, once started, they dare not break off, lest they have the whole of the Second Rank up here and on our side regardless of what they do to the hubs. And, I agree as well, we know not how many others might be coming here in preparation for the big attack but surely there are some. We can not wait."
"It's agreed then," Etanalon chimed in, "that the best and only practical method is to provoke them into starting the war now, pulling their strongest to its commission and allowing us to enter dealing only with the second rate."
"Yes, but how do we provoke them?" Boolean asked. "We go in frontally and they'll know it's only we three they can read the power as much as we. They won't panic they've been at this too long. They'll just gather together and meet us head on."
Sam's jaw dropped as she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You mean after all this, you're gonna let it happen? You're gonna actually make them do it? Start the war? Kill or transform millions and millions of innocent people? Give him his crack at godhood?"
"We see no alternative, dear," Etanalon responded gently. "Hopefully we can prevent it from covering the whole of Akahlar, depending on how strong his outer defenses prove to be. But without Klittichom as the will and the glue, it will fall apart in the end, and those of us with great power can aid in picking up the pieces and reregulating the system as we've always done, much as I hate to get back into that end of the business. It's either this or we must quit and sit here and wait for him to first win his war and then claim his First Rank status."
"That's what it's always been about, hasn't it?" Sam said accusingly. "You, none of you, really care, deep down. about the lives that will be destroyed, the civilizations and cultures shattered, the people who will be enslaved and all that. It's Klittichom you've been after all along. Nothing else matters. He's the first one you all are convinced really can make himself a god and you're scared of him. If not you, then nobody. That's it, isn't it?"
Boolean sighed and looked her straight in the eye. "No, Sam, that's not it- Or, rather, that wasn't it. I swear it. And it didn't have to be it, either. It didn't have to come down to just us on the edge of a frozen world in the middle of nowhere having to make this decision. There are literally close to a thousand Second Rank sorcerers in Akahlar. A thousand! If we had just one percent of them here—just ten—this wouldn't even be a contest. We could shatter that place and fry him and that would be the end of it. One percent! But he's caressed them and cajoled them and fooled them and wined and dined them and fed their prejudices and when all else failed put real, genuine fear into them. He's played to greed, like Grotag getting an empty promise, he believed that his own hub and staff would be spared and that he'd increase his powers and holdings under the new order. He's played to an ancient, corrupt system that so takes its powers for granted that it believes itself invulnerable, and played it like a symphony orchestra. And that leaves three of us—one social pariah, one exile, and one retired researcher—and the three of you to do it."
"But, surely some of them… !"
"In what I think is our common history, give or take a few years, one fellow went from a laughingstock in a beer hall to ruler of a large and powerful country that prided itself on its intellectuals, its culture, and its sophistication. He turned it into a gangster state that had a relatively weak army and weaker navy and he scared bigger, more powerful countries, or buffaloed them, or lied and agreed to everything they wanted and then did the opposite, in a massive con job that resulted in the most horrible world war we have known. Klittichom's turned the same neat trick here. And, like his predecessor in my own world, when he eventually must go to war and his power and strength and aims are no longer possible to hide, then he must go for broke. He has to hit them hard and fast before they can organize, figure out who's hitting them and how, and bring down massive concerted force to stop him. To do that at this stage they will all have to admit they were stooges, fools, and dupes, and pretty openly and obviously. That's pretty hard to do when you're used to being a demigod, and, once he starts, that's the only time allowance he has. Sure, we wanted to stop it, but we didn't have the weapon until now and we don't have the allies even now. This is the best we can do. We can't stop him, we can only hope to salvage what wreckage he makes and minimize it."
"But"
"No buts! The choice has changed from preventing him from wiping out anybody to preventing him from wiping our everybody. Once you're in there, you wrest control from that Storm Princess! You send those things out where they can't do more damage here, and where they will be tempered in the out-planes. You get her and take control and save everybody and everything you can. Now, that's all we can do. The alternative is to do nothing. Is that what you want?"
She sighed and sank back down on the floor of the cave. She wished she had an answer, an instant plan that would solve it all, but there was none. He made too damned good a case. "No, that's not what I want, damn it. I'm just sick and tired of every decision, even life and death, bein' made for me with any choice I got limited to ten seconds or less." She sighed again. "All right, so how are you gonna get him to jump the gun?"
"One thing at a time. Let's first make sure we're rested and well coordinated and know just what we're trying to do."
Crim looked at him. "What about us? Do Boday and I just hang loose and freeze to dea
th, me making sure she lives long enough to do battle sketches?"
"Uh-uh. You wanted in, you're coming. You take those machine guns you got so fond of with you. Now, you stand in front of a Second Rank sorcerer, even a good adept, and empty the clip at them, and they'll laugh and freeze the bullets or turn them to raindrops or something. But if they're taking on me, or Yobi, or Etanalon, they won't even think about you. They'll be on magic sight and won't even notice you. If that happens and you see us engaging, then you don't hesitate. You blow 'em to Hell."
Crim nodded. "That sounds like my fantasies come true. I always wanted to nail some sorcerers. And if we get in to wherever they're doing their thing? We won't be much use in there, I suspect, and they're bound to have a few folks with guns of their own."
"Military stuff, probably. You're better than they are typically, the average general hasn't shot anything except maybe clay pigeons in years. Keep 'em off us, and if you see the Storm Princess, open up. She doesn't have that kind of magical protection."
"Yeah, but neither do I," Sam noted nervously.
Boolean chuckled. "Uh-huh. Well, you've eavesdropped or your alter ego in there enough. If you were dressed pretty much like her, you might even pass for her. Sure, they might catch on if they put two and two together, but they'll hesitate. They may take no chances at all and divert fire from you, I would in their shoes. If you can act the part, even for a little, you may just throw them for a loop."
"I don't know. My dialect's more of a peasant sort than hers, and right now she's fatter, although I suppose with some clothing choices we could fake that. But her hair, that sort of thing."
"Perhaps," suggested Etanalon, "we could minimize that whole confusion. If we knew exactly what she looked like now, right now, it would be a simple matter to adjust your looks to hers. The acting we will leave to you, but I suspect little of it will be required. The presence, as it were. is enough."
"Yeah, but how're we gonna know what she looks like? I mean, the last time I tried that mindlink bit she heard me, screamed, shut me out, and sent a Changewind after me."
Etanalon smiled sweetly. "Ah, but, my dear, you weren't hypnotized by an expert sorceress, who could subtly guide that link."
"But she'll know I'm close by. They were able to send a Changewind after me in Covanti…."
"That's because she was able to turn to Klittichom right then and there and have him trace the link," Etanalon told her. "We will go patiently this time, until she is in the right environment. And we will eventually send her a vision, but with confirmation that you are not close but far away, since the child is far away. Tell me, have you ever attended a live birth?"
"Two. Putie and Quisu. I had nightmares about my own for a week after that. One part of me didn't want to go through that at all, the other wanted it over and done with. Why?"
"Perfect. You fantasized based on what you saw. Well, that's all we're going to have you do again, my dear. And we're going to let that young woman in the redoubt there in on that fantasy. Oh, yes, we are…."
The Storm Princess awoke suddenly with a series of very odd sensations, most of them unpleasant. First was the convincing feeling that she had suffered some kind of major menstrual flow and that her bed was now wet with a thin, yet mucousy substance she could still feel draining from within her. Almost immediately, she felt the muscles deep within her contract in spasmodic fashion.
Alida and Botea, her two female slave consorts who generally shared her bed, stirred into wakefulness as she abruptly sat up.
"Alida! Botea! Awaken and switch on the lights!" she commanded, even as she was pulling the covers from the bed and examining the satin sheets for any signs of wetness. She found none, which troubled her even more than if she'd found it, nor did anything seem amiss in and around her vagina. The lights, when they went on, confirmed it.
There was nothing there. Nothing.
A dream? A vision? Or another of those shared things? She felt intermittent short bursts of weakening powers within her, not serious but more frequent than she'd ever known, and that, tied to the nightmare, gave her alarm.
She got up, pushing one of her consorts out of the way, and went immediately to the wall intercom and pushed the red button. Even Klittichom slept—everyone assured her of it but he somehow was never asleep when she had to see or talk to him.
"Yes, Princess?" his voice came back, clear and awake.
Quickly she described the vision and the sensations to him, and he was not pleased, but also not easily panicked. "Sense the child, the source of the interference. If your duplicate is close by, then such a thing could be transmitted to force us into hasty action."
"No," she assured him. "It is far away, still distant, remote. The interference I felt there was real, but it was still far away and easily handled."
"Hmmmm…. Very well. Get dressed and meet me in the War Room as soon as possible. And, if you feel any more of those muscle spasms down there, let me know and tell me how far apart they might be."
"Lord Klittichom if this is no trick, then what might it be?" She was genuinely worried about herself now.
"Silly fool! First the water breaks, and the amniotic fluid drains out. Contractions start either a bit before or almost immediately after that, leading to the birth. Either my guess as to impregnation was wrong or the child is coming early, which is not unprecedented. This is the first time that psychic link has worked to our advantage in warning us. We must seize the initiative now. You may feel no more contractions, but if the link still is sending them, the time between is critical. Once the babe is born and the umbilical cord severed and she takes in her first air and cries out to the world her existence, your power and control is diminished by at least half, and that's far too much. Get dressed and hurry down to the War Room. I will summon the others. Take any of the elixirs I provided depending on your wakefulness and physical strength, but eat nothing."
"I shall do as you ask," she responded, then turned and looked at the two waiting slave girls. "The brown and red saffron ensemble," she told them. "Now!"
She went over to the dresser, sat on the seat, and began to comb her hair and make herself presentable to the world. The slaves came back with the outfit she wanted, which was comfortable yet imposing, the trim on the dress just touching the knee, but with matching leggings and short, comfortable boots. The pair helped her on with it. then one fixed her earrings while the other brushed her long, flowing hair.
She was not fully satisfied, but it would have to do. She got up, examined herself in the dressing mirrors, decided that she could go out like this, slipped the gold ring with the huge ruby on her ring finger, kissed the girls, and walked out, up a short flight of stairs, then down a main hall. She had not touched the elixirs; if she needed any chemical help to do this, then she was not up to it in any case.
She was almost to the main doors of the War Room when she felt another slight twinge down there. She hadn't timed it, but guessed it could be no more than fifteen or twenty minutes from the initial one.
The big red double doors opened before her automatically and she strode into the center of the fortress, the War Room, with its tiered layers leading down to the central circular floor and the great suspended globe of Akahlar in the center. Klittichom and two of the others, as well as a few slave attendants and the Adjutant, were all there.
She felt curiously awake and excited, as if this'was the moment she had waited for and prayed for all her life. Soon, ghost of my mother, soon, she thought with some satisfaction. Now, this very day. the empire of the Akhbreed who killed you and destroyed our beloved people will be no more.
Etanalon snapped her fingers and Sam came out of it with a start. "Huh? What?" She clearly remembered the vision but not being put under.
"Mission accomplished, I believe," Boolean announced, "although I thought you were taking a big chance going that close in to Klittichom, Etanaton."
"Well, I wanted to see what the place looked like. It's quite impressive, you know. I
'll attend to the makeover of Sam, here. The rest of you be fully prepared to move just as soon as we sense full radiated power from that contraption of his. Once they are committed, we want to move as swiftly as possible. The sooner we get in and get to them, the more hubs and lives we'll save." She turned back to Sam. "Ready?"
"I guess. Won't he sense your use of sorcery, though?"
"I think old Klittichom's got more on his mind than us right now, dear, and so long as he still thinks you're far away and the power use is slight, what matter now? Stand by. This will tingle for just a wee bit, and then you'll have to depend on me for major warmth until we are inside. It is cozy, but it is not an outdoor outfit."
She felt the tingle, but felt no different, only slightly chillier. She looked down, though, and saw that she now wore the outfit, right down to the cute boots, that the Storm Princess had put on in the vision. She felt her ears and found earrings there, and her hair was longer, softer, and fuller than it had been. She, too. felt a bit fuller, and she noticed that her ring finger now had a duplicate of that mega-ring the Storm Princess had put on. She understood now that Etanalon had somehow shared that vision and manipulated it, and had made her over into as close a double of the real Storm Princess as possible.
Crim and Boday checked their weapons and ammunition belts, and Boday clapped her whip to its strap brace on the side of her belt. To top it all, both had quivers full of crossbow bolts on their backs and very fine-looking crossbows in hand.
"Not the machine guns at the start?" Sam asked Crim "Uh-uh. We talked it over. If there are any routine guards out there, we want to take them out silently. Leave the machine guns until the alarms go off."
Boolean looked approvingly at Sam. "A perfect double. Incredible. My genetic spell was right on the money, proving at least that I am a genius. One thing, though it's unlikely you'll get close enough to get the chance, but by no means should you touch the Storm Princess. Anything else is okay, and, remember, she's as mortal as you are. That goes both ways."
Changewinds 03 - War of the Maelstrom Page 36