“I’ve heard a few accounts about this new disease,” Chief Tlantar told him. “Certain diseases aren’t all that uncommon here in Matakan, but this new one seems to be much more deadly than the ones that make people cough or cover their bodies with little pink splotches. The people of the northern tribes have told us that anybody who catches this new disease almost always dies in about a half a day.”
“That can’t be true,” Keselo objected. “No disease is that fast.”
“You could go on up north and tell the dead that they aren’t really dead,” Tlantar Two-Hands said with a shrug. “I don’t think they’ll listen to you, though. A man who’s busy being dead doesn’t usually have time to listen.”
“Since the little girl’s Dream mentioned this disease, wouldn’t that sort of suggest that the bug-people are behind it?” Rabbit said. “If one of the Dreamers warns us about something, it usually has something to do with a scheme of the bug-people—or a warning about some kind of bad weather.”
“That might be worth some examination,” Keselo agreed.
“Is this invasion—or incursion—into Matakan by the Atazaks likely to cause any serious problems, Dahlaine?” Veltan asked.
Dahlaine laughed. “Not for our people, it won’t,” he replied. “The ‘army’ of Atazakan is composed of ‘the Guardians of Divinity,’ the bodyguards of crazy Azakan. They’re the ones who threaten the ordinary people if they don’t cheer loud enough when the madman tells the sun to set. I’d say that most of them aren’t very sure which end of a spear is which. The Matans will probably obliterate them in about half a day. If this incursion is another halfwit scheme by the creatures of the Wasteland to divert our forces in the same way the ‘clickers’ tried to stir up trouble in Tonthakan, it won’t work in Matan either.”
“Maybe that army of incompetents isn’t intended to cause any real trouble, Dahlaine,” Veltan suggested. “Isn’t it possible that their only purpose is to pull a part of our defensive force off to the north, so that they’ll be exposed to this ‘plague’? I’m leaning in the direction of a poison, myself. There are all sorts of plants—and mushrooms as well—out there in the Wasteland, you know. If the servants of the Vlagh have been slipping into the camps of the Matans at night, isn’t it possible that they’ve been mixing poisons of one kind or another into the food the Matans will be eating for breakfast? They probably wouldn’t have enough time to poison all of the food, but they could poison enough to make the Dreamers pass along this warning, wouldn’t you say?”
“You could be right, Veltan,” Dahlaine conceded. “And the poison from plants isn’t nearly as deadly as the spores from certain mushrooms. If the wind’s coming from the right direction, they could throw clouds of those spores up into the air and everybody who’s downwind would breathe in enough of those spores to kill them—eventually. Breathing in mushroom spores wouldn’t be quite as deadly as eating them would be, and it’d probably take a man about a half a day to get sick enough to die.”
“If they are using mushroom spores to cause this pestilence, they wouldn’t even have to sneak around at night poisoning the food, would they?” Veltan suggested. “People absolutely must breathe, and as long as the wind’s blowing in the right direction, the bug-people should be able to foist this ‘pestilence’ off on the Matans, and we’d probably have to divert a sizeable portion of our armies up there to ward off the crazy man’s invasion.”
“Excuse me,” Omago said, “but I think I know of a way to deal with that. Down in our part of the Land of Dhrall, we use smoke to drive ordinary bugs away from our fields. There’s a greasy little tree that puts out a heavy cloud of smoke when we set fire to it, and the bugs can’t stand that smoke; the only problem is that we choke on that smoke as well. We’ve found that tying a thick wet cloth over our faces gives us a certain amount of protection—particularly if we stay upwind from the burning tree.”
Veltan’s eyes brightened. “I think that ‘upwind’ might be our answer, Dahlaine. We can control the wind to some degree if we need to. A nice friendly little wind would blow those mushroom spores right back into the faces of those bug-people and into the teeth of those ‘Guardians of Divinity.’ I’d say that the crazy man’s invasion will fall apart right there, and the bug-people will provide the weapon that we’ll need.”
Omago was standing on the balcony of Dahlaine’s “war-chamber” carefully memorizing the details of the mountainous terrain at the mouth of Crystal Gorge.
Dahlaine was talking with Sorgan Hook-Beak not far away. “These local problems shouldn’t interfere with your activities, Captain,” he said. “I’m quite sure that the local people will be able to eliminate the crazy man’s army and the bug-people who tricked him. Your job will be to lay that base for Narasan’s fort so that it’ll be ready when his people get here.”
Sorgan nodded. “We know what needs to be done, Lord Dahlaine. Can you give me any kind of a guess about how long it’s likely to take Narasan to get here?”
Dahlaine scratched his cheek. “I’d say that it’ll probably take about seven days for his fleet to sail up the east coast to the southern part of my Domain. It’s a fair distance from that coast to Mount Shrak here, so it’s probably going to take eighteen or twenty days. That comes out to be about four weeks altogether.”
“That’s a bit longer than I’d hoped,” Sorgan said. “Once we’ve got the base for his fort completed, I think we should put up some temporary defenses—logs and other things. We’ve got plenty of archers to help us hold back the snake-men, and the horse-soldiers should be able to clear away any sneakers who try to slip around us. I’d say that we’ll be able to hold the enemy off until Narasan and his men get here.”
Dahlaine nodded. “We’ll see,” he said.
THE TEMPLE
1
Behold! I am Divine Azakan, and I dwell now and forever in Holy Palandor, the most glorious city in all the world. Much have I heard in myth and legend of “The Dreamers,” which will one day rule all the world, but I tell ye, one and all, that I am the only Dreamer, for it hath come to me in a Dream that I am not only the emperor of Holy Atazakan, but I am also god of all the Land of Dhrall, as was foretold in ages past.
And know full well, all ye who would bow down before me, that I will reward they who worship me, but great will be my punishment for those who do not.
And I have gathered about me many who will guard and protect me, and they will be the ones who will carry out my will, for weary am I in that my responsibilities do weigh upon me most heavily in that only I can command the sun and the moon and the stars to march across my heavens as they must, for in the day that I fail to perform my most burdensome task shall chaos conquer all, and my glorious universe shall be no more.
Look upon my magnificent temple, and my glorious universe, crude and rustic Dahlaine of the North, and cringe before me, for I am the true god of what thou hast attempted to wrench from my grasp. Flee now from me, for soon I will send forth descendants by the millions to drive thee from my Domain, for I have fair wives by the hundreds who joyfully present me with child-gods beyond counting to carry out my will.
Flee now, barbaric Dahlaine, for surely art thou doomed.
And Behold, it came to pass on an autumn day that there came one who was not of our kind to Holy Palandor, and, as all creatures should, he knelt before me in my holy temple and besought me to listen unto him, and, because I am most kindly and gentle, as it befits a god such as me to be, I granted his wish, and he spake unto me, saying this: “We have heard of thee in our distant home at the center of the Land of Dhrall, Holy Azakan,” spake he, and a peculiar glottal sound came from his mouth as he said my name, but, gentle and kindly that I am, I did not chastise him for his error.
“We have indeed heard of thee,” continued this alien creature, “for truly, thy fame doth reach out far beyond this region which Dahlaine of the North hath usurped from thee, O Divine One.”
And much pleaséd was I that my fame had reached out ev
en to they that were not of human kind. “Say on, devout one,” I said unto him.
“I have sought thee out, Most Holy,” he continued, “for it is vital to us that we know the designs of the foul usurper who says to one and all that he alone is divine in this part of the Land of Dhrall.”
“He is not my god, gentle creature,” I said unto my small visitor, “and I know nothing of his designs, for I have no part of them.”
“I do perceive that our purposes may well be much the same, Divinity, for we—even as thou—would thwart the unholy desires of he who falsely doth pretend to be divine.”
“I would hear more of what thou wouldst say unto me, friendly stranger,” I said unto him.
“It hath come to us that the usurper hath brought unto the Holy Land of Dhrall multitudes of heathen outlanders to do hurt to our people—as well as thine, Divinity. Might it not be wise of us to divide the heathens that we might more easily defeat them?”
And the words of my gentle visitor did trouble me much. “Gladly would my people come to thine aid, gentle stranger,” I said unto him, “for my people are most devout, but I do fear me that they are unskilled in the arts of war.”
“It hath been my purpose in coming here, Divine One, to offer unto thee a weapon which none living are able to meet.”
“And, pray tell me, what is this mighty weapon?”
“As thou hast surely seen, Divinity,” spake he, “we are not of thy species. Small are we, and we have not the strength to overwhelm the huge outlanders brought here to Holy Dhrall by the family of Dahlaine the usurper, but, to defend our species from these who come against us, we have within our bodies a weapon which no outlander is able to withstand. There are several ways by which we have been able to bring our weapon to bear upon our enemies, but we have most recently found a means which shows much promise. By reason of our peculiarities, we can send forth this weapon in the form of a mist, and should man or beast breathe in that mist, he will surely die. Yea, truly, should even Dahlaine the usurper himself breathe in our mist, he will surely die.”
And I answered my small friend, saying, “It is most appropriate that he should, my dearest friend, for the air which he doth breathe in is my creation, and it is not proper that he should steal it. Let him then die from thy mist, and all that serve him die as well.”
“Then must we lure him and his heathen supporters to the border of thine empire that we may more easily destroy him.” Then paused my new, dear friend. “It seemeth me,” spake he, “that they who serve thee and worship thee might well bring this to pass by going from here into the lands of the Matans, Dahlaine’s most slavish adherents, and when the Matans and the outlanders rush to repel your worshipers, will I and my brethren send forth our mist, and all that march against thee and thine will most surely die.”
And then was my heart filled with joy. “And thus, my dear, dear friend, shall die usurper Dahlaine, and, as it should, all of the Land of Dhrall shall surely and forever be mine!”
Great was my disappointment when they who guard my Divinity and require all who come before me to properly show their love and respect for me failed to perceive the brilliance of the plan of my new and beloved friend. And it came to me with sorrowful certainty that they who called themselves my “Guardians” were far more concerned with their own comfort and safety than they were with carrying out my commandments, and I hovered on the brink of destroying them one and all.
But then my most trusted servant, Lazakan, came forward to implore me to permit him to speak with his wayward friends.
“Much is my disappointment in thee, one and all, my timid companions,” spake Lazakan in sorrowful voice. “Know ye not that Divine Azakan can protect us with his might? I must tell ye now that our new friend and I did speak with each other at some length, and it was I who did advise him that Holy Azakan might look kindly upon this proposal whereby we might once and forever depose usurper Dahlaine with this alliance. I urge thee, one and all, to hear the words of our new and unexpected friend.” And then did clever Lazakan gesture to our new friend that he might explain how it might be that victory would most certainly be ours.
And as our dear new friend came forth to speak with the timid, I did catch a faint hint of a peculiar odor emanating from his body, and that odor did somehow make more intense my certainty that we would most surely emerge victorious from this war.
More peculiar still, I did observe that my timid “Guardians” grew less and less timid as our alien friend explained how the deadly mist would bring us victory unimaginable.
And it came to me unbidden that the odor which had so heightened my certainty was also heightening the certainty of my timid servants. And I considered a very interesting possibility. If I could but find the source of this odd fragrance within the body of our peculiar friend and extract it from him, all who came within my presence would—will he, nil he—accept me as the one and only true god in all the world. It saddened me to some degree that my extraction of this peculiarity from the body of my dear, dear friend might very well kill him, but my needs, of course, were much more important to the world than was his life. But, since I am brave beyond the understanding of all others, I was most certain that my grief would not be unbearable.
As the enthusiasm of they who guard me intensified, I selected brave Lazakan to lead the army of the “Guardians of Divinity” against our foes.
But then, most certainly at a suggestion from me—which I have for some reason forgotten—brave Lazakan did send the Guardians forth to gather up all the people of Holy Palandor to join us in our holy campaign against Dahlaine the usurper and his heathen allies.
And so it was that victory was within our grasp as we left Holy Palandor and marched to the border which most temporarily stood between my people and the Matans.
And victory was now most certainly within my grasp, and soon would I be King and God of all the Land of Dhrall, and in good time of all the rest of the world as well—as had most certainly been the intent of the world and the heavens since before the beginning of time.
THE WARRIOR QUEEN
1
Queen Trenicia of the Isle of Akalla no longer felt any obligation to remain here in the Land of Dhrall. Her sometime employer had turned out to be a person without the slightest hint of integrity, and Trenicia had revoked their contract by contemptuously throwing all the jewels that Aracia had given to her at her former employer’s feet. Given Aracia’s dishonest nature, Trenicia was fairly sure now that the jewels were little more than cheap imitations of genuine gems. In the light of that, Trenicia realized that she should be looking for a way to return to the Isle of Akalla, but for some reason she found that she was most reluctant to do so.
When she got right down to it, though, she was fully aware of the reason for that reluctance. In all her life on the Isle of Akalla, she had never once seen a man who was anything but a tame house-pet. The notion of a man who commanded an army struck her as most unusual, but there he stood, not ten paces away. His name was Narasan, and when he told his men to do something, they immediately obeyed him, and that would have been unheard of on the Isle of Akalla.
Moreover, Narasan had exquisite manners, and the touch of silver in his hair made him look most distinguished. It was his tight-fitting uniform that revealed a well-muscled body, however, that quite noticeably raised Trenicia’s interest in this peculiar man.
There was nothing particularly pressing taking place on the Isle of Akalla right now, so Trenicia saw no real need to rush back home, and there were quite a few much more interesting things happening here in the Land of Dhrall.
“The wars on the Isle of Akalla aren’t nearly as complicated as your wars are, Narasan,” Trenicia said. “Of course, we don’t have armies as large as yours, and we really don’t have to go so far to reach enemy territory.”
“What would you say would be the size of the standard army on Akalla, Your Majesty?” Andar rumbled in his deep voice.
“Probably no more than fifty warr
ior-women,” Trenicia replied, “and it’s usually only about twenty miles to the enemy’s part of the isle.”
“That has a familiar sort of ring to it, wouldn’t you say?” Brigadier Danal suggested to the others. “It sounds quite a bit like the squabbles between those assorted barons and dukes that we used to go fight for them.”
“Except that we were paid to do the fighting,” Padan added. “It sounds to me like the women-warriors on Akalla fight their own wars.”
“Isn’t that just a little bit illegal?” Danal asked with a faint smile.
“You’ll have to excuse my friends, Trenicia,” Narasan said. “They all seem to think they’re hilariously funny.”
“Do you see me laughing?” Trenicia asked Danal quite firmly.
“Ah—no, ma’am,” he replied. “There is one thing that’s got me just a bit puzzled, though. The people here in the Land of Dhrall all seem to have weapons made of stone, but that sword of yours is made of steel. How did you come by it?”
Trenicia shrugged. “Every now and then a boat that came from some other place washes up on one of the beaches on our island, and there are all kinds of things on those boats that are made of metal. We’ve learned how to heat it so that we can pound it into the shape we want.”
“What are all those wars on your island about?” the deep-voiced Andar asked.
“Pride,” Trenicia said with a blunt honesty. “We all feel that anything we see is ours. Since I’m the proudest woman in all of Akalla, the island is mine. I had to kill quite a few people to persuade the others that I really am the queen, but now that they understand, things are much more peaceful than they used to be. Peace is nice, I suppose, but it does get sort of boring after a while. That’s one of the reasons that I accepted Aracia’s offer. I thought that if I could find a war of some kind in some other part of the world, I could keep all the other proud women busy enough that they’d stop trying to sneak up on me and kill me, and not being killed is fairly important, wouldn’t you say?”
Crystal Gorge: Book Three of the Dreamers Page 21