“His ghost has followed us from the reefs,” Gamelan said. “He’s been looking for a path that would allow him to return and he has found it in The Sarzana. Except, it is no mortal wizard we face, but a demi-god whose powers are growing mightily from all the blood being shed.”
When we first pursued the Archon we knew he was on the verge of discovering a great spell that would destroy our homeland. With his new powers that spell was more than ever within his grasp.
“We must foil him here,” Gamelan said.
“That’s all very well, wizard,” I said. “But what makes escape any more possible now than before?”
“We know who our enemy really is,” Gamelan said. “If the gods are with us, that knowledge alone may be all we need.”
He told me his plan. Four coins from my belt put the first part in motion.
* * * *
Two days later the soldiers came for me. I was manacled with heavy chains and they led up along twisting dungeon corridors that wound up, up, up, until the cold was gone, to be replaced by stifling heat. Outside, I could hear wind howling like tormented spirits. I smelled rancid vinegar and the sulfur of plague fires and when we went past the guards’ barracksroom I saw mottled sunlight through barred windows. We stopped in front of a large iron door framed in heavy timber. One of the soldiers rapped on the door.
“Enter,” came a voice.
We went in. The soldiers bowed low before a cowled figure.
“Remove her chains,” the figure ordered. The soldiers did not argue, but quickly struck them off. Then, one last command: “You may leave us.”
The soldiers left, muscling the door shut behind them. I heard a large bolt shoot across, barring the door. The figure swept away the cowl and black hair spilled out. It was Princess Xia, so achingly beautiful after all my days in ugly gloom that I nearly swooned. A cool, spiced perfume swirled around and through me as she ran to my side to steady me.
“My poor Captain,” she said, her voice so sweet after all the harshness that my heart lurched in its moorings.
She led me to a bench and helped me sit. A silver flask was thrust into my hands and I smelled strong wine. I drank deeply. Fire blossomed in my veins.
I looked at her and time stood still. It was as if I had suddenly entered a world where only Xia and I existed. All convention, all reason was swept away as I gazed on that exquisite face, skin as pale as new milk, lips red and bursting for a kiss. So I did.
She fed me life through those lips, her tongue honeyed and swirling. Her breasts were crushed to mine and I could feel the swollen fruit of her sex pressing against my thigh. We drew back for air, both of us shuddering with passion.
“I thought I’d never see you again,” I said, nearly weeping.
“Oh, Rali,” Xia said, tears flowing down her cheeks. “I’ve thought of nothing else. I’ve dreamed of you every night. I feel as if I’ve known you all my life.”
“And I, you, Princess,” I said.
We embraced again. She fell back on the broad, hard bench and I fell with her. My hands ached to feel her flesh and I dragged up the hem of her robe, exposing snowy white limbs. She lifted her hips and helped me pull the hem up to her waist. The lips of her sex were smooth and tender, with a sweet pink bud peeping out. She cried my name as I nibbled my way to it.
Princess Xia and I became lovers in that dismal dungeon where nothing but foul night spores and mosses could ever grow. The bench was our bridal bower. The gray stone room, our chamber of first passion. And nothing before, or since, could ever match it. She was hauntingly familiar — Otara and Tries and all my other lovers combined. But at the same time she was new and teasingly strange and fresh.
I poured all my longing into the kisses, and she responded in kind. When we were sated, we held one another, whispering idiocies like two moonstruck girls. In a way, we were. We’d gone from strangers to lovers so quickly that only the goddess who rules the moon could understand. Outside the door there was a chink of chain mail as one of the soldiers shifted at his post. We slowly drew apart.
“I must go soon, my love,” she said. “Tell me quickly what you want of me. I shall do all in my powers to help.”
“I want to be called before the Council of Purity,” I said.
Xia paled. “That is beyond me,” she said. She shed a few tears. “I’d so hoped you had a plan I could help you accomplish. But that is not possible. Who would listen to one such as me?”
“More than you think,” I said. “As girls we’re taught we have no power, so we never test it. But you’d be surprised what can happen when the womanly strength you possess is aimed single-mindedly and with force.”
“But why should the Council — ”
“I can help, them,” I broke in. “I can end the plague.”
Xia’s eyes widened. But instead of speaking, she only nodded — go on.
I told her about the Archon and our mission, which we’d mistakenly believed we’d accomplished. I told her what a great danger he was to both our peoples and what I had to do to stop him.
“Do you really think you can succeed where our wizards have failed?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “And not because I think little of your sorcerers. But because the Archon and I have a bond. A bond in hatred, to be sure, but sometimes hatred can be an even stronger glue than love.”
One of the soldiers rapped on the door. It was time for her to go.
“Will you see your father for me?” I begged.
“As soon as I return home,” she promised.
We kissed again, then dragged ourselves apart before passion overtook us again. She called out to the soldiers, the bolt shot back and door swung open. Xia pulled the cowl forward, and after a fleeting glance at the soldiers putting the chains back on, she fled.
* * * *
I don’t know what Xia said to her father, but the spell she cast with her words must have been as good as any sorcerer’s, because only a few days lapsed before I found myself standing in front of nine pitiless men.
The guardians of the public good were a motley lot of nobles. Two were so old they drooled; four had less hair among them than it takes to make up one healthy head; and the remaining three — including Lord Kanara, Xia’s father — were hammering hard on the last gates of middle age. If I had been a young soldier in this land it was not a group that would inspire me with devotion. Even the drooly-lipped ones remembered enough to despise any mere creature who stood before them.
I nearly despaired when I swept their faces, looking for a friend, and found none — not even in Lord Kanara. He may have pressed for my appearance to appease his daughter, but he was not going to be an easy wheel to turn when I pleaded our case. In every gaze I saw an ambush waiting. So I took the soldier’s way — I attacked.
“My Lords,” I said, “as I was led up the hill to these chambers I racked my brain for a pretty speech. I was going to fling my life — and the lives of my brave companions — at your feet and beseech you for mercy. I was going to tell you that we were peaceful strangers who came to these shores by misadventure. Just as it was misadventure that led us to injure you. But all those words were swept away when I saw the horror in your once great city. Your streets are despoiled by the corpses of your subjects. The market place is barred and empty. The doors and windows of your homes are shuttered against the plague that stalks the avenues and the hot wind The Sarzana sent has sucked the very life from the trees in your gardens.
“It was a city near defeat, that I saw, my Lords. And if you do not grant me my request now, I fear we will soon both be at the mercy of our mutual enemy.”
Beside me, Xia quailed. Behind me, I heard Gamelan mutter for me to beware.
One of the droolers spoke first — his voice high-pitched and squeaky like a boy’s nearing manhood. “You’re just a woman,” he said. “Why should I believe you can do what our own wizards can’t?”
“If I am such a puny thing,” I answered, “how is it I stand here at all?
I have traveled farther than any man or woman in my homeland to reach these shores. I have fought and defeated great armies, crushed a mighty fleet, and it was I who slew the brother of your real enemy — the Archon of Lycanth. I doubt any of your own subjects — men, or women — could claim the same.”
The old Lord cupped a hand around his ear. “What’s that, you say? The Archon? I’ve never heard of such a fellow. It’s The Sarzana who’s the cause of all our ills.”
I shifted my attention to Lord Kanara. “Ask your own wizards why they are helpless before The Sarzana. To be certain, he is a powerful sorcerer. But how can he stand against all of them? He’s not that powerful.”
A black-robed sorcerer leaned close to Lord Kanara and whispered in his ear. Kanara nodded. He turned to his companions of authority.
“Our chief wizard agrees,” he said. “It is a mystery that has been puzzling them mightily.”
“Ask him,” I said, “if he and the others have wondered if perhaps The Sarzana has made an alliance with some other dark force.”
The sorcerer bent low again to whisper fiercely. When he was done, Kanara said: “Yes, it is true, Captain. They have speculated on such a possibility.”
“Your wizards’ suspicions hit the mark,” I said. “It is the Archon he made his bargain with.”
“What do you propose?” Lord Kanara asked.
“First, I urge you to allow me to attack this cursed plague. Once I have ended it, you will know whether I am woman enough to carry out the rest.”
“Pure foolishness,” the drooler said. “It might even be heresy, to allow a foreign woman to practice magic in Isolde.”
“Is it heresy?” I said, aiming my question directly at the chief wizard.
He looked at me, then shook his head — no.
“Then what do you have to lose, my lords?” I said. “If I fail, back in the dungeon I go and good luck to you. But if I don’t, the plague is ended. It can’t be the worst gamble you’ve ever been asked to make.”
The nine men conferred, voices too low to hear. They’d had long practice with secrecy. Finally, they turned back to me. Princess Xia gripped my hand hard.
“Very well,” Lord Kanara said. “You shall have your chance.”
The drooling lord broke in. “Do not fail, Captain,” he warned. “Our torturers have no match when it comes to ways of making, and prolonging pain.”
* * * *
My words to the Council of Purity may have been bold, but inside I quaked with doubt. Gamelan said the plague spell could be lifted. I was certain he could have done so before he was blinded, but I had serious reservations about my own abilities. I was no more than a green apprentice. What chance did I have against the Archon? Gamelan’s continued assurances did not soothe me; but what choice did I have but to carry on with the bluff?
They put us in a guarded stone hut at the edge of the palace grounds. Gamelan’s captured implements were brought to us, and we began. I did not see Princess Xia in the two days it took us to prepare, but her seamstress came to measure me for the costume I required — a simple red, sleeveless tunic cut at mid-thigh, so my arms and legs would have freedom of movement. It would be tied with a golden sash. Gamelan warned me not wear jewelry of any kind, especially metal, and he said my feet must be bare.
Using Gamelan’s magical book, with many annotations from my wizard friend that he’d learned over his many years, I ground up disgusting powders and mixed evil-smelling and highly volatile oils. We worked without stop, the eerie wind howling outside and buffeting the stone hut. Finally, we were nearly ready.
There was no visible audience — other than a few nervous guards — awaiting us in the small park that’d been set aside for our efforts. There was a pool in the center of the park. Placed about it — forming a square — were four pyres of rare wood. As we entered the park, a wagon thundered across the cobblestone path. The driver was terror-stricken, lashing at his horses. He nearly wrecked the wagon stopping it. He leaped off, cut the wagon loose, took one last horrified look at the contents, and ran off, driving the horses before him.
I shuddered at the task awaiting me, steeled myself, and dragged off the first corpse. It was a child, covered with putrefying plague boils. The three other bodies in the cart were his family — father, mother and sister. I’d smeared my body with the silver ointment Gamelan said would protect me from the disease, but it did not ease my fears as I lifted the small boy’s body in my arms, carried him to the pyre, and placed him on it. The other three corpses followed.
Gamelan was silent as I worked, angry with himself that he could not help. I dressed each body in rich garments, then I thoroughly doused each pyre with magical oil. Other then the wind, all was silent; but I could feel scores of eyes watching me from the palace windows. When I was done with the bodies, I went to Gamelan. He handed me the ebony box which held the heart of the Archon’s brother.
“Be very careful, Rali,” he whispered. “Say and do only what I taught you. Otherwise . . . ”
He didn’t have to finish. I’d already been warned that if I failed the Konyan torturers would be cheated of their pleasure; the Archon would make a meal of my soul.
I walked to the pool and gingerly placed the box in a toy sailboat. I opened the box, exposing the hard gem that was the talisman heart. Next to it I placed a single firebead, chanted the spell which made it glow into life, then set the boat in the water and gently pushed it forward.
I whispered:
Sail swiftly, sister
To Dawn’s portals,
Where the gods play,
And demons are denied!
Defying the winds which pebbled the surface of the water, the boat moved smoothly — its sails moving this way and that as if commanded by a skilled navigator. It stopped in the center. The black heart began to glow a fiery red. I stared at it, transfixed.
Gamelan hissed at me: “Quickly, Rali!”
I leaped to my feet, threw up arms and shouted: “Arise! Arise!”
There was a clap of thunder and flame gouted up from the boat. Another clap and I leaped back as the entire pool sheeted with flame.
“Now, Rali!” Gamelan cried. “Do not hesitate!”
The fire was growing hotter, but I had to put aside mortal reason. I stepped forward, felt searing heat, but pressed on to the edge of the flaming pool. I put one bare foot out, marveling that the skin did not peel away and blacken as fire licked over it. I gulped and stepped forward onto the surface of the burning water. I felt intense heat, but no pain, as I walked across the unyielding surface to the boat. I picked the boat up, lifting it high, flames pouring over and around me. I shouted the spell, my voice booming over the winds and hammering at the skies.
Come Father, come Mother,
Come Sister and Brother —
The one who slew you awaits.
Take thy hate to him,
Take thy suffering
And demon pain.
Foul winds blow sweet,
Sweet winds, blow cool.
Awake!
Awake!
I took out the glowing heart, placed it in my palm and blew across it into the boat’s sails.
The boat stirred then jolted forward, leaping away like a bird. As it cleared the flames, the fire suddenly died and I was standing up to my knees in blood-red water. The small ship sailed over each pyre, and as it did so, they exploded into black smoke and flame. The smoke rising above each of them twined together like snakes and formed a single thick column of foulness, geysering upward. The sky mottled, then clotted and I saw a black brow with fierce red eyes beetling out.
The Archon’s voice thundered: “Away! Away!”
Then he shrieked in pain as the smoke of the plague dead rasped across his eyes.
He thundered again, but there was fear in his command: “Away! Away!”
The smoke billowed thicker still, blanketing the Archon’s great ghostly features. Another howl of pain and anger . . . then he was gone.
; I felt weak, drained. I looked down and saw only ordinary water lapping at my knees. Somewhere I heard a bird chirp and I looked around in wonder and saw a cheerful little fellow on a withered branch. The branch was quite still and I realized the hot wind had stopped. I stumbled out of the water to Gamelan. He took the Archon’s heart from my hand, put it away, and then embraced me.
I heard cheering from the Palace and then the Konyans were swarming out, Princess Xia in the lead, tunic flying up over those graceful legs as a cool balmy wind, moist with promised rain, blew across the park.
The spell had been broken.
* * * *
The next time I stood before the Council of Purity, the eighteen pairs of eyes staring down at me were not quite so pitiless. They weren’t friendly, to be sure, but there was in respect in them — a willingness to see what I sought next. I made no preamble, but launched directly to my goal.
“I want freedom for my soldiers and crew,” I said. “Return our swords and ships and we will fight with you until peace has been restored.”
“How do we know you just won’t flee?” Lord Kanara asked. “This is not your fight.”
Princess Xia started to protest, but I moved quickly before she could say something unpleasant to her father.
“But it is my fight, Lord Kanara,” I said. “I’ve explained it is my people’s mortal enemy who has made a bargain with The Sarzana. And it will take more than a few spells to defeat him with the Archon as his ally.”
“Even then,” Lord Kanara said, “he will still be The Sarzana. And he’s proven to be enemy enough in the past.”
“Then let me kill him for you,” I said. “You cannot, because you would be cursed. But I am a stranger, I could not be harmed for taking his life.”
Lord Kanara and his fellow nobles had a hasty, whispered conference.
He turned back. “What is it exactly that you suggest?”
“I propose to join with you in an expedition against the forces of The Sarzana,” I said. “We would be able allies. We Orissans have much experience in warfare.”
Another whispered exchange, then: “I’m certain you and your soldiers are brave, Captain,” Lord Kanara said. “But there is still the matter of trust. We do not know you. Our experience with you is brief. In one instance, you wronged us. In the other, you helped us. But that was under duress. How do we know which way the dice will fall if we allow a third toss?”
The Warrior's Tale (The Far Kingdoms, Book 2) Page 40