The Accidental Sorcerer

by K. E. Mills

  'Oh,' said Lional, disappointed. 'Well. In that case it would seem we've reached what's known as an impasse.' He clapped his hands. 7 know. How about this?' He gazed at the frescoed ceiling. 'Gods of Kallarap hear my plea! If I have wronged you and sinned in your sight, show me your displeasure! Strike dead this bird and this lion in a demonstration of your holy wrath!'

  Nothing happened.

  Very slowly Nerim turned to the silent holy man. 'Shugat? He has spoken to our gods and our gods have answered him. Yet they did not answer you. How can this be?'

  'It is a trick,' said Shugat. His voice trembled. 'This man is an unbeliever, O Prince. He is not of the Blood or the faith. He cannot have the favour of the Three.'

  'I do not understand,' Nerim whispered. Shatteringly close to tears he retreated, leaving Shugat stranded on the crimson carpet with only his staff for support. Then he looked up at Lional. 'Mine brother the sultan, may he live forever, will want—I must explain—' He turned again to Shugat. 'Give me your wisdom, holy man! Tell me what to do!'

  Still and silent as stone, Shugat leaned upon his staff like one entranced, blindly staring at the floor.

  With a light-hearted leap, Lional bounded from the dais to rest a hand on Nerim's sagging shoulder. 'I have an idea. Why don't you ask the gods what you should do? I mean, no offence to Shugat, old chap, but everybody knows what happens when you rely on middlemen and start passing messages along. Bits get misheard, or left out or… reinterpreted… and before you know it, what started as "Let's all be friends" becomes "Cut off the infidels' heads" and I don't know about you, Nerim, but I think that's taking paraphrasing just a little too far.'

  Frightened, Nerim stared at him. 'But the gods never speak to us directly. Only through Shugat, our most revered holy man.'

  'Things change, Nerim,' said Lional, shrugging. 'And we can change with them or we can be left in the dust. I'll bet there are simply dozens of things you've always wanted to ask the great Vorsluk. Now here's your chance. Ask away'.'

  As Nerim dithered, Reg again pressed her beak to Gerald's ear. 'Do something. Stop him before this gets right out of hand!'

  How? he wanted to shout. How do you stop a runaway tram? He'd halt time if he could, turn it backwards, undo the damage he'd unwittingly caused, but magic didn't work like that. Or if it did, he didn't know how.

  Where's Monk Markham when I need him?

  Unmasking Lional was out of the question. Shugat would likely slaughter the king on the spot… a scandal that would make Stuttley's look like a rained-out garden party.

  But he had to do something. Put on the brakes…?

  'Ah… Your Majesty?' he said. 'Are you quite sure we're worthy of speaking directly to the gods? Perhaps we should all spend a night in prayer and fasting first. The last thing we want to do is offend them with—with—uncleanliness.'

  The look Lional gave him was lethal. 'I hope you're not suggesting the Blood of the Sultan is unworthy, Professor. Or unclean. That might be construed as a grave insult. Prince Nerim might feel compelled to return to Zazoor with a poor report of our meeting. He might even go so far as to beseech the gods to strike us down in retribution!' He turned to Nerim. 'Pay no attention, old chap. My wizard is merely concerned—needlessly, I might add—for your safety. Please. Vorsluk's emissary is waiting.'

  'Silence, oath-breaker!'

  Nerim took one look at Shugat and his upraised staff and shrieked, then flung himself face-down on the carpet, hands clapped to his ears. A split second later the audience chamber shuddered as crack after crack of thunder exploded beneath the frescoed ceiling. Two window panes shattered and one of the chandeliers plummetted to the carpet in an explosion of blue diamond splinters. From the crystal in Shugat's upraised hand writhed a white-hot whiplash of light.

  As Tavistock heaved to his feet, roaring, and Lional, shouting, grabbed at his mane, Gerald threw himself behind the throne. Reg tumbled to the floor beside him.

  'God, Reg! Say something! Quick, before he kills Lional!'

  'Let him kill Lional!' she yelled. 'It'll serve the mad bastard right!'

  'No! If Shugat kills Lional there really will be a war, even if Rupert has to draft his vampire butterflies! Go on! Whatever happens after that can't be worse than this!'

  'That's what you think!'

  Heart pounding, he inched his way out from behind the throne to see what was happening. Shugat advanced towards Lional, the whip of light lashing back and forth, seeking contact. Lional let go of Tavistock and faced the holy man, lips curving in a strange smile. His hands came up, as if to ward off death…

  'Speak, Reg! You have to! Now.'

  With a furious curse and a cackling cry she launched herself into the air. ' Vorsluk! Vorsluk! Vorsluk speaks!'

  'Look, Shugat!' shouted Nerim and pointed, still prone on the carpet. 'The gods are with us!'

  Shugat's mouth fell open. The whiplash of light abruptly died, the rolling thunder stopped and the audience chamber ceased its shaking. Turban askew. Nerim staggered to his feet and stared at Reg as though he'd never seen a bird flying in his life. Lional, still smiling, lowered his hands.

  At the far end of the chamber the doors flew open and a cohort of palace guards tumbled in, ceremonial pikes flailing.

  'Your Majesty!' cried the chief guard. 'Are we under attack?'

  'No!' said Lional. 'Get out, you fools, and close the doors!'As the guards retreated in confusion he turned his attention to Reg. 'Oh, mighty Vorsluk, great god of Kallarap, speak to us! Reveal your sacred will!'

  Still flying, Reg let out another wild cackle. 'Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye! Mighty are the deeds of Vorsluk and also Lalchak and Grimthak! Great is their power and just their retribution! The Three watch over all, understand all, judge all. Patience will be rewarded. Events shall unfold as the Three desire. Attend your duties and be obedient.'

  'Aiieeee!' cried Nerim. 'The god speaks!'

  Shugat stayed standing, clearly shaken but stubborn to the last. 'That—that—is not how Vorsluk speaks to me.'

  As Reg, panting, landed on the back of Lional's throne, Nerim managed a shaky bow. 'King Lional, the gods of Kallarap have favoured you mightily. I shall return to mine brother the sultan, may he live forever, and—'

  'Silence, Nerim!' Shugat shouted. 'You are dazzled by trickery, like a child in the bazaar! The gods do not—'

  'I am no child!' Nerim retorted. 'I am the sultan's brother! His Blood, and his emissary in this land. Did you not tell Zazoor the gods wished you to come here? This is why! So their will might be revealed!'

  The crystal's fire woke briefly as Shugat shuddered. 'Now you explain to me the will of our gods?'

  'No, no, Holy Shugat!' Nerim gasped, his momentary defiance wilting. 'But do you not teach the Three are omnipotent? All that is come to pass here must be their doing… mustn't it?'

  Shugat stilled. Gerald, stranded on the dais, hauled himself back onto his feet and held his breath, not daring to look at Reg. Three feet distant Tavistock shook his maned head and grumbled.

  Lional said brighty, 'Of course it must. Dear Shugat, can you think that I am not amazed? I never dreamed your gods would come to us. They never have before. But here they are and we must obey'

  Saying nothing, Shugat pressed the crystal back into his forehead. Nerim, nodding, said, 'Yes, O King. That is our sacred duty.'

  'Exactly' said Lional, and perched on the edge of the dais. Still grumbling, Tavistock joined him. The grumbling became a pleased rumble as Lional petted his face. Gerald watched Nerim's awestruck expression and felt sick all over again.

  I'll never undo this damage now. Not ever. What a bloody disaster…

  Eagerly Nerim said, 'You say the gods wish us to be friends? Then we are friends!'

  Lional frowned. 'Well, I thought we already were, Nerim. I've always felt nothing but affection for the Kallarapi nation. How could I not after six happy years getting to know its sultan in the rough and tumble fashion of schoolboys everywhere?'

  Nerim
blinked, and glanced at Shugat for some kind of guidance. But Shugat was once more a man in a trance, silent and uncommunicative. Eyes dull and hooded, supporting himself upon his staff, he appeared weary to the bone, all the fire in him burned to ash.

  'I am sure mine brother the sultan, may he live forever,' said Nerim, with a last worried glance at Shugat, 'will be pleased to hear you say so, O King. And with the gods' help I know we can put our misunderstandings behind us.'

  'Of course we can,' said Lional. 'Tell me, Nerim, Zazoor hasn't gone and found himself a wife lately, has he?'

  'A wife?' Nerim shook his head. 'Alas, O King. The gods have not yet seen fit to choose a woman worthy of such an honour.' He flickered another glance at Shugat and lowered his voice. 'It has been a matter of some concern. Perhaps, O King, since you have the gods' favour, you could speak to them on our behalf?'

  Lional smiled, his ringed fingers threading through and through Tavistock's gold-dusted mane. 'What a lucky coincidence, Nerim. As it happens the gods have already made their wishes known to me.'

  'They have?' said Nerim, incredulous. 'Truly O King, the gods of Kallarap are great! Who is the woman?'

  'Someone you've already met,' said Lional, one arm draped possessively across Tavistock's shoulders. 'Someone very close to my heart.'

  Gerald pressed a hand to his roiling guts. Oh God. Not Melissande…

  Reg flapped from the throne to his shoulder. 'Criminy,' she muttered. 'He can't be serious, madam'U go spare….'

  Nerim looked confused. 'Yes? And this someone is…?'

  'My sister!' said Lional, impatient. 'The princess!'

  'The princess?' Nerim echoed, and turned again to the holy man. 'Shugat, did you hear? The gods wish for the sultan, may he live forever, to take Princess Melissande as wife!'

  Shugat said nothing.

  'I knew you'd be pleased,' said Lional, beaming. 'I know I'm pleased.'

  Nerim swallowed. 'Er—I fear the honour is too great, O King…'

  'Nonsense,' said Lional briskly. 'It's what the gods want, Nerim. And we've already agreed that what the gods want the gods get.' He laughed. 'Nerim, Nerim, don't you realise what this means?'

  'No, O King,' Nerim whispered. 'What does it mean?'

  Hell's bells and buckets of blood! cried Gerald inside his aching head. That's what it means!

  'It means we'll be brothers, Nerim!' Lional crowed. 'You and I and Zazoor. Oh. And Rupert of course, unfortunately. On second thoughts, let's forget Rupert, shall we? It'll be you and I and Zazoor! One big happy family, with Melissande playing mother. Isn't that just wonderful? Aren't the gods divine?'

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  There was a loaded silence in the audience chamber once the stunned Kallarapi delegation had departed.

  Lounging on his throne Lional looked at Gerald, eyebrows elevated. '"Prayers and fasting", Professor? Do feel free to explain that little unsolicited piece of inspiration.' Sprawled at his feet, Tavistock snarled.

  Through teeth gritted so hard they were nearly breaking, Gerald said,'My apologies, Your Majesty. I thought you might appreciate a chance to think about what you were doing.'

  Lional's fingers drummed on the arm of his throne. 'Well, I didn't.'

  'No, Your Majesty,' he replied, reckless with rage. 'It's clear to me now you had no intention whatsoever of thinking!

  As Reg, still on his shoulder, made alarmed noises in his ear, Lional considered him. 'Do you know, Professor, I liked you much better when you were diffident and ingratiating. Recall, if you can, that I am your king!

  'You're not my king! I'm Ottoslandian, we don't have kings! And after what just happened I can see why!'

  Lional sat up. 'I'm warning you, Professor. You're on very thin ice.'

  7'm on thin ice? I am?' Choking, he took a stamping half-turn around the dais. 'And what do you call that little stunt you just pulled, Your Majesty? I call it tap-dancing on a melting ice floe! Have you forgotten that Sultan Zazoor has an army? And don't you understand that when he figures out he's been had he's going to introduce us to it? Intimately?'

  'I suggest, Professor,' said Lional, coldly, 'that you moderate your tone.'

  'To hell with my tone!' he retorted. 'You've spent the last hour playing fast and loose with a foreign power's religious icons! You forced Reg into impersonating one of them and manipulated me into upholding the lie! I don't have enough fingers and toes to count all the rules I've just broken! And you tell me to moderate my tone?'

  Lional sighed. 'I must say, Professor, you disappoint me. What I have done, sir, is solve the punitive Kallarapi tariff crisis, thus rescuing New Ottosland from certain bankruptcy and thousands of my subjects from suffering, and I've taken the first steps in consolidating a lasting alliance with our Kallarapi neighbours while incidentally saving Melissande from the tragedy of spinsterhood. All in all, it's been an excellent afternoon's work. I deserve congratulating, not scolding.'

  The man was serious. He really thought what he'd done was praiseworthy. Oh, dear God…

  'And what about Mel— I mean, Her Highness?' he said, suddenly exhausted. 'What if she doesn't want to marry the Sultan of Kallarap?'

  Lional looked baffled. 'What she wants is irrelevant. The Melissandes of New Ottosland have always married to further the interests of the kingdom.'

  Which may be true… but he wondered if anyone had thought to remind the current Melissande of that. 'All right. What if the sultan doesn't wish to marry the princess?'

  'Oh, I don't think that's very likely,' said Lional, carelessly. 'Not want to marry a young woman in the prime of her child-bearing years, capable of giving him a fistful of sons to carry on his quaint camel-breeding empire?' He shrugged. 'I admit Melissandes not exactly beautiful. But you know what they say, Professor. All cats are grey in the dark. Really, you mustn't fret so. You'll give yourself indigestion.' A lazy smile. 'Besides. Zazoor will do whatever his gods tell him to do. In that respect he's as gullible as his gormless little brother.'

  If there'd been something handy he would have thrown it at Lional and the consequences be damned. 'But, Your Majesty, think. What if Shugat wasn't as convinced by our little charade as he led us to believe? What if he takes a moment on the way home to stop for a chat with his gods and the gods say "Wedding? What wedding?" What do you think is going to happen then?'

  'My dear Gerald…' said Lional tartly. 'Calm yourself. Shugat is nothing but a moth-eaten old man with delusions of grandeur. And as for the gods of Kallarap… surely you've worked it out by now?'

  'Worked what out, Your Majesty?'

  'The gods of Kallarap don't exist!'

  Gerald stared. 'You don't know that!'

  Lional let out an exasperated groan. 'I'll tell you what I know, Professor. I know that when Shugat asked his gods to kill me, they didn't. And when I stood here and invited them to strike me down in my stockings, nothing happened again.'

  'Actually, you invited them to strike down Reg and Tavistock.'

  'Mere detail,' said Lional. 'What matters is there was no striking of any kind. Which leads me to one of two conclusions. Either the gods don't exist or they approve of what I'm doing! Either way, I win.' He smiled. 'And Zazoor loses.'

  On his shoulder, Reg heaved a sigh and scratched the back of her head. 'You know,' she mused,'I hate to admit it but he's got a point.'

  'There. You see?' said Lional. 'Even your little feathered friend agrees there's nothing to be concerned about.'

  Reg sniffed. 'Well, I didn't say that!

  Lional sat back. 'I think, Professor, you need a little quiet time to reflect upon this momentous occasion. Given your excellent assistance I shall overlook the tone and content of your recent remarks. This time. Don't feel obliged to join me for dinner. I shall look for you in the morning. We'll go hunting.'

  'Hunting?'

  'Yes indeed,' said Lional, nodding. 'I'll see you in my private stables at seven, Professor. Just you, I think. No need to rob Vorsluk's emissary of her beauty sleep.'


  'Sarky bastard,' muttered Reg. 'I'll give him beauty sleep…'

  'Hunting,' said Gerald. Oh, lord. He'd thought Melissande had been joking about that. Arid just when he thought things couldn't get any worse…

  'Don't be late,' added Lional. 'I can't abide unpunctuality. It puts me in such a bad mood.'

  It was a dismissal. Gerald bowed, jerkily, and made his escape before he forgot every last oath he'd ever taken as a wizard and turned King Lional the Forty-third into a toad.

  Nerim sat in an overstuffed armchair in the palace guest quarters' salon and shivered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so afraid.

  It was hard to say which scared him the most: the fact that for the first time in his life he'd been in the living, speaking presence of the gods… or that in the half hour since he and Shugat had returned to their suite the holy man had refused to utter a single word. Instead he remained motionless and cross-legged on the floor under the window, eyes closed, hands in his lap.

  From birth every Kallarapi knew his people were the gods' chosen. Never once had Nerim doubted it. Some of his earliest memories were of sitting on Zazoor's knee in the private temple of their father the sultan, may he dwell with the gods in perpetual peace, listening to Shugat pronounce the desires of the gods.

  Shugat, whom the gods now refused to answer.

  When he and Shugat had left Kallarap it had been in the safe and sure knowledge the gods were sending them to give New Ottosland's king one last chance to honour his sacred oath and pay to them the tariffs required by treaty. Shugat had said so. Shugat had said the gods were enraged by King Lional's refusal to follow the path laid down by his honoured ancestor King Lional the First. He'd said this was a sacred mission to restore the honourable bonds of mutual obligation between Kallarap and New Ottosland. He'd said the gods would reward them for doing their holy duty.

  Shugat had said twthing about weddings and new alliances and the gods revealing their presence to the New Ottosland king. Surely he would have mentioned it if the gods had told him about any of that? So… what was going on?