by Allan Cole
An odd-shaped metal implement kept the pages open in her great Book Of The Oracle, which was big enough to kill small demons, if necessary. The metal object, Daciar said, had been her father’s favorite keg broaching tool and she kept it to remember him by. There were dried flowers and herbs both common and magical poking out of pots and hanging by threads from the rafters. Incense burners of all sorts of sizes and shapes squatted here and there, with little sacks of incense of every variety to burn in them. A few pictures of pretty scenes, hung just a little off kilter since she had a weak eye on one side.
A few of her distinctive, wide-sleeved yellow robes were hung from hooks within easy reach of an old porcelain hip bath. And there was a nearby shelf littered with vials of perfumed bath oils and sudsy additives. Next to the tub was a stool pushed up to a mirrored stand for her brushes and cosmetics. On the opposite side of the room was a large fireplace with a broad mantle decorated with a few stuffed, faded-faced dolls from her childhood, as well as a little clockwork device that a copper coin set in motion.
It always made me laugh to see it work. I’d put a coin in the slot, usually good Antero copper with a ship engraved on one side and the sign of the House Of Antero on the other. Soon as the coin clicked into place a fat farm wife would burst out of the little house, pursuing a squealing piglet with an ax. There was inscription on the base of the toy that read: “It’ll be just a minute before dinner, dear.”
I thought it was funny. But I suppose I’m too easily amused.
Heaped among all this friendly clutter were books of all sorts: light romances and adventure, poetry and histories and philosophy, and thick technical manuals inscribed with sorcerous symbols.
Just to the side of the crackling fireplace was a curtain of many colors that hid an alcove which was entirely taken up by a great feather bed.
There were grander quarters attached to the room, her official residence, which was where Daciar received important people and conducted business. Only close friends were allowed to see her here at her untidy ease.
After she’d got us our drinks Daciar plucked off her tiara, unpinned her hair - letting it fall in silver waves over her shoulders - and plumped down in an overstuffed chair across from me. Her yellow robe rode up over her still fine thighs as she stretched out her legs and plopped her feet on the table.
Then she raised her cup in a toast: “Here’s to the first of the day,” she said, “except for breakfast, which doesn’t count, and lunch, which doesn’t matter.”
It was the cheeriest first gulp I’d taken in many a day. I settled back in the sofa, warm all over from such friendly surroundings.
We chatted aimlessly for a time, emptying one cup and getting a good start into another. Then I told her the purpose of my visit. She listened closely as I described my encounter with the pirates and how the magical music had almost caught me out.
“Except for the ancient tales, my dear, I know nothing of this Ice Bear fellow,” she said when I was done. “And I haven’t heard of more pirate attacks on merchant ships than usual. Perhaps he’s only causing trouble in the regions you visited. If that’s so he’s just a local bandit and shouldn’t give you much difficulty.”
I wanted to believe this. I wanted very much to think that when we sailed to AnteroBay and the other outpost all would be well. If necessary I could raise a force of sufficient strength from the people I had at the trading posts, pursue the false Ice Bear King and put paid to his pretensions. But if he were just a nuisance who could be dealt with so easily, why would the Goddess Maranonia have appeared to me and warned that Orissa was in grave danger?
Daciar, who was skilled at reading emotions behind people’s masks, caught an inkling of my doubts.
“There’s something else, isn’t there, my dear?” she said. “Something you haven’t told me.”
“Yes,” I admitted. “But I’ve been sworn to silence.”
“Still,” she said, “I flatter myself when I think you want my advice. Only you don’t know quite how to go about it,”
“That, my dear friend,” I answered, “is exactly my dilemma.”
Daciar frowned, pondering. Then her brow cleared. She went to the fireplace mantle, mumbled as she dug through the toys and books and flower vases and finally came up with a large crystal goblet etched with pentagrams and other wizardly marks. She blew the dust off, polished it with her sleeve and fetched it back.
She stopped midway. “Wait,” she said. “I’ll need some blessing water. I tell you, Rali dear, sometimes I don’t know where my head is when I try to put on my tiara in the morning.”
She found a clay jug. She sniffed the contents, wrinkled her nose and declared them to be “blessed enough.”
Finally she returned to her chair and sat down.
“Let’s see what I can learn without violating your oath,” she said.
Daciar placed the goblet and water jug on the table, which was draped by an old cloth with faded designs that still pleased the eye. She had me swirl some of the red wine in my mouth and spit it into the goblet which she quickly filled with blessing water.
She put her hands just above the glass, closed her eyes and chanted:
“Cast the light
On secrets near and far.
Show the path of Mind and Heart.
See the message
The tongue cannot form
And lips cannot speak.”
The rosy liquid swirled. Shapes emerged and I leaned closer to look. Daciar, whose eyes were still closed, sensed the motion and waved me away.
Just as I moved back the liquid shot out of the glass, twisting madly about like a water spout. The scent of blooming roses filled the room. My body tingled with magical force and I felt a soft pressure on my temples like ghostly fingers.
I heard Daciar moan and suck in a sharp breath.
Suddenly the water column vanished and the scent and tingling feeling were gone.
Daciar opened her eyes.
“That ought to do it well enough,” she said.
She took a quick gulp of her drink for fuel before she got back to work.
Daciar rubbed her hands together, smiling. “No wonder you were so button-lipped, Rali dear,” she said. “You’ve had a visit from a god.”
I almost frowned, giving it away, but she raised a warning hand.
“Don’t react to anything I say, dear,” she advised. “Otherwise you’ll breach your sworn oath. I saw very little. The way was blocked by the holy presence that came to you. I know it was a god, or goddess. Probably not Te Date or I’d have sniffed him out. I’ve dealt with Him most of my life and know his spoor.
“Guessing, not sorcery, tells me it was a goddess who appeared before you... probably the Holy One you worship - Maranonia.”
As I marveled at the results of this rich combination of soothsaying and long experience Daciar closed her eyes again to concentrate. Then she opened them. This time, however, she didn’t smile but looked quite worried.
“I see much danger,” she said. “And I don’t think it’s only for you and your people. What that danger is I can’t say. The good news - I think - is that I also see three ships that may be your salvation. One of copper, one of gold and finally, one of silver.”
Maranonia hadn’t put them in that order... she’d said silver, copper and then gold... but at the time I thought it was only a small slip in Daciar’s otherwise perfect casting.
“I also see a bird of some sort,” she continued. “I don’t know why this bird is important, but it is.”
This was new. Maranonia hadn’t mentioned birds - or any other creature for that matter.
“There’s also a woman,” she continued. “A beautiful woman. No, there’s two. One is royalty... and one is not. I don’t know if either means you harm. But be advised, neither woman is from this world.”
Daciar broke off. She remained silent for a long time, staring at me intently. Then she winced and her features paled. She reached out a trembling hand and
touched my right cheek. I sat quite still as she explored it, moving hesitantly to my eye. Then her hand lowered slowly and touched my left wrist. Her fingers lingered there, then she slowly drew them back.
Tears welled in her eyes.
“I fear you’ll be hurt,” she said, voice cracking with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Rali.”
I pretended indifference although my heart panged with sharp-edged fear.
“I’ve been hurt before,” I said. “So long as I live... what does it matter?”
“I can’t promise that, Rali,” Daciar said. “I wish I could. I wish I could look deeper. But the path, as I said, is barred.”
“I wouldn’t want to know either way,” I replied. I meant those words at the time, foolish mortal that I am. “If I die, so be it. I made my peace with the Dark Seeker when I joined my sisters of the Guard.”
“I wish I could advise you to turn back, my dear,” Daciar said. “And avoid whatever pain it is you must face. But I don’t think you have any choice.”
I shrugged. “That’s the way of it, then,” I said. “But tell me this if you can. Will the Ice Bear King be my chief foe? Or is he just someone I have to deal with on the way?”
“I don’t know,” Daciar said. “It’s been my general reading of late that these are especially troubled times with all sorts of strange disturbances in the Otherworlds.”
My eyebrows arced in surprise. I said, “Oh, really? Strange in what way? Things in Orissa are quite normal, if there is such a state. I’ve had no trouble with my own sorcery and none of our magical colleagues have mentioned any difficulties to me.”
Daciar chuckled. “Your powers are so great, Rali,” she said, “that I sometimes forget how new you are to all this. Of course they wouldn’t say anything to you. We’re a suspicious and envious breed at heart and we’re reluctant to admit our troubles to another mage.
“As for your own difficulty-free experience, why you are an Antero. And unless my poor wits have fled me I’m certain the Anteros are the reason for the disturbances. All kinds of things have been frothing up from the spiritual vats since you and your brother came along. It’s as if a thousand little crypts were opened and mean little things have been scurrying out.”
“Like that demon who was slave to the pirate?” I asked.
“I suspect so,” Daciar said.
“I’m sorry if we’ve the cause of so much trouble,” I said.
“Don’t be,” Daciar replied. “There isn’t a wizard in the whole civilized world who doesn’t owe you and your brother a debt. We know so much more then we did only a few years ago. It’s as if we all woke up one day and realized we’d been blind and brainless the day before. Like the light of understanding that strikes a child and lifts her into awareness.”
She said this so sincerely that I couldn’t help but feel better.
We chatted on about lesser things after that, exchanging the wine for a fine brandy that cleared the mind of cares and stoked mischief in the body.
“So tell me, Rali,” Daciar said, a little of that mischief dancing in her eyes, “how goes the search for the love of your life? Have you found her at long last?”
I grimaced. “I don’t even have a decent chart for such things,” I said. “To tell the truth I’ve just about given up. I’ve have nothing but foul luck in love since...”
I broke off. I didn’t want to trot the painful memory of Otara out. She’d been my lover of many years and I’d never gotten over her death.
Daciar knew of Otara. I’d confessed my feelings of loss one drunken night long before. So she leaped gracefully over the uncomfortable silence as if it didn’t exist.
“Well, you must have had an adventurous affair of some sort,” she said. “Come. Tell me all. I could use a sexy tale or two to take the chill from my dreams.”
I laughed. “There’s been one or two,” I admitted.
“Only one or two?” Daciar scoffed. “Where have you been hiding yourself, woman? Why, there must be any number of nubile young things who’d dare all to share your bed.”
She laughed. It was a delightful, bawdy sound. “I saw my assistant looking you over. Ilana would think herself blessed by the Goddess of Love if you gave her a tumble. As a matter of fact, why I don’t ask her to join us for a drink? And see if you two strike the sparks I think you will?”
“Please, don’t,” I said. “I admit I found her attractive. I even flirted a bit. No harm in that. But I’m in no frame of mind for any encumbrances just now. And unless I’m very wrong, young Ilana wouldn’t be satisfied with anything but complete victory.
“Besides,” I continued, “she looks so... energetic! I couldn’t bear all the wriggling about. I’d probably start laughing.”
I didn’t feel like laughing inside. A suddenly loneliness gripped me, but I smiled as broadly as I could so as not to spoil the cheer we’d both created.
But Daciar wasn’t fooled. She shook her head and said, quite low, “Poor Rali. All she wants is a little tenderness.”
I didn’t answer. Instead I found myself looking at Daciar with new eyes. She was perhaps fifteen years my senior. She had fine skin, white and smooth as parchment. Her eyes were large, nearly violet in color, and they seemed to burn softly like the coals of a carefully banked fire. She’d let her hair down and it was long flowing waves of silver. She still wore her yellow robes of office, which were made of silk and clung to a soft round figure that I suddenly wanted badly to caress.
My mouth became dry. I was afraid to speak for my thoughts were far from pure.
Daciar looked at the curtained alcove, then back at me. The coals that were her eyes burned deeper.
She rose and drifted over to me like a cloud, taking my hand and drawing me up. I could smell her perfume - hot and lemony like a mulled drink.
“Come, Rali dear,” she said.
And she led me to her downy bed.
It was a night of dreams, a night of quiet magic.
Daciar coaxed all the tension from my body, massaging each toe, then working up slowly and carefully, paying close attention to every kink and twist. I became like warm wax under her hands, helpless in my blissful state to do anything but moan and turn this way and that as she commanded.
Then she made love to me, carrying us both off to shaded glades in sunny lands. Afterwards we cuddled and caressed for a time and when we’d recovered we made love again.
I think I called out Otara’s name once, but Daciar only held me tighter and whispered gentle praises so I knew she didn’t mind.
When we were exhausted I fell asleep in her arms, my head nestled on her soft bosom, while her hand gently stroked my breasts.
Daciar had given me a gift worth all the gold in the coffers of the Gods.
I awoke just at dawn to the sweet sound of a lyre playing somewhere off in the distance. As I lay there letting the waves of music wash over me I realized I’d been listening to it for a long time.
It was a most familiar melody.
Then I heard the blast of a great war trumpet. Then bells tolled the alarm. As I leaped up I heard shrieks.
The city was under attack.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE WARRIOR GIANTS
I flew naked from the bed, scrabbled madly for my dagger - the only weapon I had - and ran to the window.
We were several flights above the temple grounds and the window commanded a good view of the harbor and the road that wound up the hilltop to the temple. A cold wind blew in and I shivered. But it wasn’t from the sudden chill.
In the harbor was a ship of such size that I became confused for a moment as I wondered how something so far away could seem so large. Fear iced my veins when I fully understood that only giants could sail such a thing.
My mind reeled and then the sounds of fighting drew my eyes to dockyards. Three immense warriors towered over what had to be a hundred Pisidian soldiers. The giants wore helms and heavy armor and wielded swords with blades as wide as a man and twice as long. The Pisid
ians were bravely trying to crowd in and overwhelm the giants.
The three huge warriors suddenly charged the soldiers and many men fell in that furious but disciplined onslaught. Despite their success the giants didn’t seem willing to take advantage of their attack and soon fell back to hold their original ground.
Then I noted a longboat the size of a normal ship drawn up near the shore. It was manned and defended by four other giants. I quickly counted ten double oars and knew there were at least thirteen more enemy warriors on the loose.
I felt Daciar’s presence. She’d come up behind me to see what was happening. We watched the scene in silence for a few moments, gathering up our will and our wits. The wind blew colder. Daciar handed me a robe and I fumbled it on, tucking my hands into the deep sleeves.