"Who art thou?"
"Imperial Wizard Oshima, Omnipotent One. Doth Your Ineffable Majesty recall a magical fan, brought hither by a Mulvani ascetic?"
"Aye. We begin to understand. The accursed Zamben must have exchanged fans and fanned us away. Now we have been recalled. When is this?"
Oshima said: "The sixth month of the Year of the Camel, in the Cycle of the Tortoise."
"That is as least two centuries," mused Tsotuga. "All our contemporaries maun be dead, including that sharptongued consort of ours. Who, said the young Mulvani, was now Emperor?"
"Dzuchen the First, Majesty. You see, in a careless moment he fanned himself away.''
"Aha! Is that the same fan in the young man's hand?"
"A replica, Sire, made by this incompetent bungler. The original vanished when your former Prime Minister, having made himself Emperor, inadvertently evoked a dragon. The creature devoured him, fan and all, ere he could defend himself. After His Majesty Dzuchen vanished, we sought to recall him according to the code but got Your Sublime Self instead. Doubtless when one taps 'Emperor,' one gets them in the order wherein they were filed away. Another set of raps might fetch him back."
"Be not hasty, Doctor Oshima," said Tsotuga. "Methinks one Emperor at a time be all the Empire can afford. What wilt take for the fan and the code book? Ask not for the Imperial throne; we are sure neither of you be eligible. But ye shall not find us ungrateful to those who have restored us. Ye first, Doctor Oshima?"
"All I ask, Sire, is to continue my magical researches in the Department of Health and Welfare, and not to have to squabble with the Imperial Treasury over appropriations for the supplies and equipment I need."
"Ye shall have your wish. And ye, Master—Rao, was it?"
"I need to complete my mission for King Lajpat of Mulvan, Majesty. An ample travel allowance, to leave me something over when I get home, and an escort back to Koteiki by horse or carriage would suit me well."
"Ye shall have it, also. The fan and book, pray!"
Tsotuga held out his hands. Kerin handed over the fan and passed the code book from Oshima to Tsotuga, with a trace of hesitation. While he considered nothing so impractical as aspiring to the throne of Kuromon, he mistrusted rulers, knowing too many tales of the perfidies their power tempted them to commit. But, isolated in the midst of this vast and populous land, he could not think of a viable alternative.
Oshima turned to the whispering, jostling throng, who seemed too paralyzed by the rush of events to interfere. "Hail His Imperial Majesty, Tsotuga the Fourth, whom the fifty-seven major deities have given us in place of the late Emperor Dzuchen!" he shouted.
Turning back, he performed the kotou to the throne. Little by little, all the others in the Hall of Audience followed suit. Kerin slipped down from the dais and did likewise.
Tsotuga clapped his hands. "All rise! Is the Imperial Historian present?"
A man with a long gray beard stepped forward. "Your abysmally humble servant, Majesty."
"Good!" said Tsotuga. "Ye shall remain with us, to bring us up to date on the events since our—ah—vacation. The rest of you, return to your duties!"
Kerin and Nogiri stood at the rail of the Warabi Mora as the ship entered Kwatna harbor. Kerin slid an arm around Nogiri's slim brown waist and gave her a slight hug. She said thoughtfully:
"My lord, all my life I have been warned against that excited state called 'falling in love.' The right thing, they told me, was to achieve a stable state of mutual respect with one's spouse. But I fear I have developed that kind of passionate attachment towards you that I was warned against. You don't even seem ugly to me anymore, despite your staring eyes and great beak of a nose. Think you I've done wrong?"
Kerin laughed. "By Astis' ivory teats, no! I ve been trying to tell you I feel the same towards you. So I'm delighted—"
"Master Kerin!" said a faint, tinkling little voice.
"Eh? Who's that? You sound like Belinka!"
"And why not, since forsooth I am Belinka?" said the sprite. Barely visible in the sunshine, the little blue light danced above the deck on a level with Kerin's face. "It joys me to see you returning safely. For a month I have haunted incoming ships seeking you."
"Methought," said Kerin, "you were returning to Kortoli?"
"I was. But I tarried in Kwatna to build up strength for the journey; and then I became close friends with Sendu, Doctor Klung's hantu. He is a sweet fellow, if betimes a trifle stupid. We have been—we are—"
"Carrying on a love affair, like a Prime Plane pair?"
"Well—ah—in a way; albeit we do it differently from you. But pray, when you return home, tell no one! Madame Erwina would punish me."
Kerin grinned. "If you will keep quiet about my blunders, such as twice falling into the sea, and my flight from Janji, and letting Malgo disarm me, I won't betray your little intrigue. But think not I'll give up my princess here, either!"
"Oh, I am reconciled to that. When I think of other mortal women, I realize you could have done far worse. But I must needs warn you! Doctor Pwana is still hostile, the spirits tell me, because that temple guard whom you sworded died."
"I'm sorry for the guard, albeit 'twas self-defense. But about Pwana?"
"If he learn that you have returned, as he probably hath already from his spirits, he will do you mischief."
"Why? With his Mulvani magus, he had no more need for Nogiri."
Nogiri: "Pwana is a man of fixed ideas. Since you defeated him by carrying me off and slaying his guard, he will lust for revenge as long as he lives, for aught you can do."
Kerin grunted thoughtfully. "Belinka, we cannot long remain aboard, unless we wish to buy passage back to Koteiki. So methinks to pay Doctor Klung a speedy visit." As the Warabi Mora inched her way up to her quay with shouts of sailors and rattle of rigging, his glance raked the waterfront. "I see no temple guards or priests lurking. But if they appear—how is the paving to Klung's house? There was something about the Sophi's plan to pave the main streets with flagstones."
"Excellent," said Belinka. "The new Sophi hath carried out the plan of the old, to pave the streets and show the haughty Kuromonians he be as civilized as they. So flagstones have been laid down over the dirt and the old cobbles—"
"How comes there to be another new Sophi, after so brief a reign by the previous one? "
"Vurkai died; his nephew, the son of the previous Sophi, succeeded as Dimbakan the Fourth. What dost?"
Kerin dug their roller skates out of his bag and handed Nogiri hers. "We may wish to move swiftly to Klung's. Belinka, pray get word to the balimpawang to expect us."
When the gangplank was hoisted ashore, Kerin and Nogiri rolled down it. Kerin bore their duffel bag slung over his shoulder by a strap. As they reached the waterfront street, Belinka squeaked:
"Master Kerin! They come!"
Some temple guards emerged from a side street and started towards them, shouting: "Halt! Stop! Ye are prisoners!"
"Away!" said Kerin. He and Nogiri skated swiftly off, ignoring stares and exclamations. Waving krises, the guards broke into a run.
"Beware of tripping!" said Kerin. "Oh, oh, look ahead!"
Out of another side street erupted a squad of the Sophi's palace guard. These, also, clattered towards Kerin and Nogiri, shouting: "Halt! Stop! Surrender! Ye are under arrest!"
Kerin drew his sword, saying: "I know not what the Sophi's men want with us, but I doubt they mean us good. Follow close!"
He skated towards the nearest soldier, waving his sword and uttering a bloodcurdling screech. "Way for the fierce barbarian!" he yelled.
Seeing this apparition rushing upon him, the soldier made a tentative swing of his kris. Kerin parried and, as he whizzed past, gave the man a mighty push that tumbled him to the flagstones. He could easily have killed the fellow, but that would have only further complicated matters. Another soldier, unnerved, turned away; Kerin whacked his buttocks with the flat as he flew past.
"Still with me
?" he gasped, not daring to look around for fear of tripping.
"Aye," said Nogiri, "and now they all run after us. Turn left at the next street."
A couple of arrows screeched past, but the zigzag course of a skater working up speed threw off the archers' aim.
Sounds of chase pursued the fugitives after they were out of sight of their pursuers. They skated up to the entrance to Klung's domain. As they entered, several of the magician's clients, waiting in the courtyard, cried out.
Abruptly Kerin stumbled on the irregularities of the rolled earth, pulling Nogiri down with him. Hastily, they arose, unfastening their overshoes.
"Why, Master Kerin!" exclaimed Wejo. "The learned doctor is with a client but will be out forthwith. We got the message from your hantu—"
"Tell him, unless he protect us instanter from all the villains of Salimor, he'll lose that which I bring him."
Klung appeared; in a few words Kerin explained their plight. Klung ordered away the woman who had been consulting him and the other waiting clients. As the clients jostled their way out the gate, the pursuers' clatter waxed.
A crowd of temple guards and royal guardsmen appeared at the gate. An officer pushed his way in shouting: "Doctor Klung, we demand—"
"Keep out!" shouted Klung. "Back, unless ye would be turned to toads!"
The officer nervously backed away. Klung shouted, gesticulated, and threw a handful of powder into the air. A wall of flame sprang up across the front of the grounds. With more words and gestures, Klung extended the flames clear around the house.
Through the flames, Kerin glimpsed a temple guard departing at a run. "Come in," said Klung. " 'Tis not a real fire, albeit hot enough, but an illusion created by a class of hantus that you call salamanders, in my service. Didst bring the secret?"
"Aye," said Kerin, hauling out the package of papers.
The magician glanced over the rows of ideographs. "It will take time to translate this; but it saith something about stroking an iron pin with a lodestone. It is the right paper, certes. Would we had real rag paper like this here."
"My conscience bothers me," said Kerin.
"My husband has a tender conscience, as others have sore joints or itching scalps," said Nogiri.
"Cherish him, my dear," said Klung. "Few enough have any conscience at all. What plagues you, Kerin?"
"They gave it me thinking me the true Rao of Mulvan, to convey to King Lajpat. So methinks it properly belongs to him."
"Hm!" said Klung. "Could I but get the new Sophi and that king bidding against each other. . . . But that's for the future."
"How came the succession?" asked Kerin.
Klung chuckled. "Recall you that Mulvanian whom Pwana presented to Sophi Vurkai? The Mulvani's potency spell proved all too effective. Vurkai commanded his thousand-odd wives to line up in the corridor outside his bedchamber, whilst he futtered them one by one. In his folly he tried to go through the entire harem at one sitting, if that be the right word. He gave each as long as it takes to soft-boil an egg ere calling for the next.
"When he mounted Number Seventy-Five, howsomever, his aging heart gave out. The woman shrieked; the flunkeys rushed in and hauled the Sophi off, but too late. I daresay he died happy. His nephew ascended the throne and, as is the custom, ordered all his brothers and halfbrothers slain."
"That's a beastly custom!" said Kerin.
"But had the third Dimbakan pursued it, Vurkai had not been alive to seize the throne out of the proper line of succession."
"Why does the new Sophi take Pwana's part now?"
"Dimbakan thinks that Pwana compassed his uncle's death on purpose to make him ruler, and he is grateful. It were not to Pwana's advantage to admit that the Mulvani's Spell of Inordinate Lust was a mere blunder with a man of Vurkai's years."
"How went the election for balimpawang?"
"Tied, nine to nine, curse it! We shall hold another—"
"Master Klung!" cried Wejo, putting his head in the door. "The Pawang Pwana has arrived, and the ring of fire dwindles."
"Curse of the purple pus!" cried Klung. "Come! It is my besetting weakness that when engrossed in talk I lose track of time."
Outside, Pwana stood amid the besiegers, incanting. Over the tops of the dwindling flames, the officer shouted: "In the name of His Majesty the Sophi, admit us!"
Klung made passes and uttered words, and the flames sprang up again.
"Surround the grounds!" came the voice of the officer, now hidden behind the wall of pseudofiame. Pwana's voice rose to a screech.
"Great Vurnu!" cried Klung. "Look at that!"
Over the fire loomed the upper parts of a herd of elephants. Astride the neck of each elephant sat a robed, hooded, bat-winged figure.
"Who are the winged mahouts?" asked Kerin.
"Fifth Plane demons. Pwana hath found a way to protect them from sunlight. Why thought not I of that? Come inside; the fire will hold them for a half-hour, but I cannot keep it going for ay despite Pwana's opposition. When the fire fails, the elephants—methinks from the Sophi's herdwill smash my house to bits unless I get you away. Ye would not wish to remain in any case, since Captain Huvraka hath filed a claim against you for the theft of his ship's boat, and the kinsmen of that guard you slew have sworn vengeance."
"That was self-defense!"
"No matter; they'll slay you anyway. Come!"
In Klung's oratory, the wizard opened the door to the cagelike apparatus, saying: "Wejo, fetch the sack with our visitors' effects. Kerin, pray enter with your lady!"
"What dost?" asked Nogiri.
"I send you back to Kerin's native land, with the help of some Fourth Plane entities I control. Then I shall invite those without to enter and search for you."
"That sounds risky," she said.
"Of course it is risky! But what choice have we?"
Kerin said: "You told me you had not yet adjusted the machine so it moved inanimate objects. Has that been corrected?"
"Aye; or so I believe. First I must cancel your protective spell, what is left of it. . . ." After a series of magical operations, Klung resumed: "Now, Kerin, hold Nogiri's hand in one of yours and grasp your bag with the other."
Klung slipped out of the cage, made adjustments, and moved a lever. The cage hummed; violet light played around the bars and wires. The scene faded, and Kerin felt as if a mighty wind were bearing him aloft.
"Darling!" he shouted. "Art with me?"
"Aye, love!" she called, as if from a distance, although Kerin still grasped her hand.
The windblown sensation went on and on. Kerin could see nothing but a blur, as if he were flying through clouds, some lighter and some darker.
In Kortoli City, in the Temple of Shumal, the Fediruni god of righteousness, and his consort Kawais, goddess of purity, the prophet Ikbar was working his sermon up to a climax: "Woe unto those who expose their integuments to the sight of other mortals! None but gods may see the persons of persons; to do otherwise is an abomination. The holy Shumal hath told me that, when he and's consort purpose to beget godlets, they doff not their robes but employ certain cunning openings to make such congress possible!"
Standing before the altar, the Reverend Ikbar waved his arms, so that the baggy sleeves of his long black robe flapped like the wings of a Fifth Plane demon. Long gloves covered the arms that his gestures exposed, and a veil hid all his face but the eyes.
Before him stood several hundred worshipers. Ikbar considered pews a decadent luxury. The congregation all wore hooded robes and were gloved and veiled like their prophet. Ikbar continued:
"Oft have I told you how, years agone, the divine pair appeared unto me on this material plane as I prayed in the temple. Oft have I, without success, besought them once more to manifest themselves before my virtuous worshipers in this very fane. Today I shall essay once more to prevail upon these incomparable deities to bestow upon us this boon."
Turning his back on the audience, he raised his arms and cried: "O divine Shumal, O
ineffable Kawais, deign to show your holy faces here before your worshipers. Come! Come! Come!"
There was a flash of blue light, a sharp sound as of a small thunderclap, and a rush of displaced air, which blew the prophet's hood back from his head.
Standing between him and the altar appeared two persons. One was a young man of middling size, lean but well-built, with a curly brown beard. The other was a black-haired young woman with a skin of golden brown and slightly flat-faced, slant-eyed features. Both were completely naked, without so much as an ornament.
A gasp arose. Ikbar staggered back, crossing his arms as if to ward off a blow. "Great Shumal and Kawais!" he gasped. "What do ye?"
Kerin muttered: "Follow my lead, darling. I know who this fellow be." He raised his arms and, lowering his voice to an artificial bass, thundered:
"Thou art guilty of a monstrous error, perverse mortal! Thou hast distorted and misconstrued our teachings. These deem the body holy, to be covered only as the exigencies of climate and occupation require. Down on your faces, to beg our divine forgiveness!"
With a wail of terror and repentance, priest and congregation flopped down on the mosaics, Kerin took Nogiri's hand and led her swiftly through the masses of black-robed worshipers, stepping over and around the prostrate figures.
Outside, a fine rain fell from a leaden sky. Looking around, Kerin sighted a rank of horses, mules, and asses tethered to a row of hitching posts. Some were saddled; others stood in the shafts of gigs and carriages.
"This way!" said Kerin. "Run!"
Minutes later, a patrolman of the Kortolian constabulary goggled to see a horse galloping down the main avenue of Kortoli City. The peace officer put his whistle to his lips, because no pace above a trot was allowed in the streets. But then he stood with mouth open as he saw that the horse drew a gig, and that the gig was driven by a naked man, standing up and flicking the horse with a whip, while on the seat behind him sat an equally unclad woman.
While Kerin dried himself with a towel, Nogiri struggled into an unfamiliar dress, hastily borrowed from Kerin's sister-in-law Margalit. Kerin explained to his kin:
The Honorable Barbarian Page 21