by Dave Duncan
“What about the wraith you saw, the ghost?”
“Ah. Rap is dead. We know that. But I still think that was a sending. From Rasha—or someone.”
She meant that Elkarath might have been responsible himself, of course. He had never met the young faun, but perhaps a sorcerer could conjure up pictures of the dead from other people’s memories. Who knew what a sorcerer could do?
“It told you to run away!”
“And we did the exact opposite—we stayed! We all agreed a wraith of evil could give only evil counsel. Of course that was what we thought! It was what we were meant to think, a double bluff. Obvious, really. So why have we never said so?”
Kadolan sighed again, and shivered. She had wondered such things many, many times, and never been able to bring herself to put them into words. She had been unable even to worry about them. She had prayed quite often to the God of Humility, though.
“Magic!” Inos snapped out the forbidden word triumphantly. “By day. He makes us afraid or ashamed to talk about it by day. And at night he puts a sleep spell on us; you and me. Talking gets easier at night, though—have you noticed? Maybe he gets tired, or he puts on the spell in the morning and it fades. Now it seems to be wearing off!”
“Well, now you’ve given us a chance to talk about it,” Kadolan said. “I suggest you don’t mention it to Azak.”
“Why not?” said Azak.
“Oook!” Kade jumped like a rabbit, clasping her hands to her mouth. Despite his size, the sultan could move like floating gossamer, and she wondered how long he had been standing there behind her—dark and big and menacing, with eyes that glinted in the starlight.
“Why not tell Azak?” he growled.
She sought to calm her fluttering heart. Even by daylight, Azak flustered her. “Maybe . . . maybe we have been sleeping very soundly, but that hasn’t happened to you.”
“True. No other reasons?”
“Er . . . no.” Just that Azak hated Rasha so much that he might not react rationally to the news that she had outsmarted him.
“Mmph?” Azak transferred his attention to Inosolan, who was still leaning against the tree. “I congratulate you! You outwitted him. I did not think it was possible.”
“He’s only a man.”
“You knew?” Kadolan exclaimed.
“Certainly. As Inos says, it is obvious—in the night. It is obvious by day also, but so absurd that I cannot bring myself to discuss it. I have known for months.”
Inos and Kade said, “Oh! “together.
He was right—it had been months. Kadolan had lost count of weeks, but two or even three months . . . In the distance, camel bells clanked faintly. The night was rapidly becoming colder. She wished she had her camel-hair shawl with her, but she wasn’t going to go and get it and miss whatever madcap talk was coming next.
The big man was looking at her. “It was an accident, I assure you.”
“What was?”
“When I burned your hand. I had tried to awaken both of you without success, several times, and given up trying. I had even considered loading you both on camels like baggage and fleeing away across the desert, but I dared not risk it. I worried that you might never awaken. The burn was an accident.”
Maybe! But even if he had not been testing to see if he could waken her, he might have been testing to see if Rasha’s curse still prevented him from touching a woman.
Azak stepped closer to Inosolan, who did not move.
“You have outwitted him. What do you propose, my dove?” Kade’s heart had quieted down somewhat; now it lurched nervously. Behind her, the tent flapped in the wind and the ropes hummed.
“We tried to leave once,” Inos said bitterly. “And failed. Let’s leave now! “
Kadolan’s knees bent with very little direction from her, and she sat down on the rug rather heavily, not thinking of scorpions until she had done so. Oh, for a comfortable armchair!
“Here?” Azak exclaimed, from somewhere high above, near the stars.
“Yes, here! Don’t you see?” Inosolan spoke quickly, as if trying to convince herself as much as him, or perhaps not giving herself time to change her mind. “That’s why he . . . why we aren’t so sleepy tonight! He didn’t bother! He decided we wouldn’t dare try to run away from him here in the Gauntlet!” It would certainly be an insane act, her aunt decided.
Azak’s voice came deeper and slower. “There is another possibility. Sorcerers can detect power being used. The sheik showed us his ring—he might have invented that story, I suppose—but he did tell us that it had revealed sorcerers at work in Ullacarn. Mages, I think he said. It is more logical that there would be full sorcerers there, an Imperial outpost. May it not be that . . . that a sorcerer . . . would prefer not to use his abilities so close to Ullacarn? You are right, you know. This is easier to talk about. “
Kadolan resisted a temptation to quote an impish proverb about fine words salting no cutlets. As long as they only talked! But Azak was infatuated. Inos’s slightest wish was a royal edict to him.
“Then that’s another reason!” Inos agreed excitedly. “That means we have a much better chance of getting away! And what can he do when he wakes up and finds us gone? If he comes after us himself, he leaves everyone else at the mercy of the brigands! “
Most of the traders and drivers were the sheik’s relatives. “He might send the lionslayers,” Azak growled. “A trail that fresh would be no trouble to a lionslayer.”
Inosolan said, “Oh!” in a disappointed voice. “Then it is hopeless?” A challenge from her would spur him to any madness, and she was woman enough to know that. Vixen!
He chuckled. “No.”
“Ah! You can deal with them?”
“Gold and promises. If they head off along the Ullacarn road, and we go north—”
“North?” Even Inosolan sounded shocked. He could not be serious!
But he was. “Northwest. Did you not notice the ruins we passed this afternoon? A large city, very old. Cities near mountains usually mean passes. Once there must have been a pass. The roadway may be gone, but the pass itself must still exist. “
“And the bandits?”
“If they are anywhere, they will be waiting on the Ullacarn road.”
“I suppose. North? Dare we?”
“I dare. Do you?”
Challenge worked both ways, evidently. Even before her niece’s agreement, Kadolan knew it was coming. She heaved herself to her feet, ignoring her complaining old joints as she mustered her arguments. All her instincts were against this folly.
“Inos!” she said. “Your Majesty! Even if we are right, and his Greatness is a . . . has been deceiving us . . . at least we have his protection at the moment. This is notorious bandit country, Sire; you told us so yourself, and—”
“They will certainly not be looking for victims heading in that direction.” Azak’s voice was a deep certainty in the darkness. Then he added thoughtfully, “I wonder how many of the legends are spread around for just that purpose—to keep the caravans from seeking ways around the Slaughterhouse?”
Kade tried another tack. “But travelers in Thume vanish and are never seen again!”
“Not necessarily. I have heard minstrels talk of it. Third Lionslayer’s father crossed Thume, so he says.”
“But what good will it do? Surely the fastest way to Hub—”
“The fastest way to Hub is a ship from Ullacarn,” Inos agreed, sounding excited. Her logic was often shaky; it became notably precarious when she was excited. “But if we are still in Rasha’s clutches, then she will make sure we never get near a ship in Ullacarn. She will certainly never let us appeal to the Four, Aunt. She has been meddling in politics—abducting me from my kingdom, interfering in Azak’s rule in Arakkaran. The wardens will squash her, and she knows it! We can travel to Hub through Thume, can’t we?”
“If we are not molested,” Azak agreed. “A month’s ride, perhaps, to Qoble. We can be there before winter closes the p
asses. “
Another month on a camel! Or was he thinking of horses? Kadolan wanted an armchair, a stationary, down—filled armchair. And there was no guarantee that the wardens would be of any assistance, anyway. This was all just a dream of idealistic youth. These two youngsters could not believe that the world could be a place of injustice, which it certainly was, much of the time. The Four might well spurn their pleas without a thought, or decree some solution even worse than the present situation, murky though that seemed.
“A month?” Kadolan protested, knowing that all her protests were vain, but determined to try. “By then Nordland and the Impire will have come to some agreement about Krasnegar, and—with all due respect, Sire—the emerald sash of Arakkaran may well be gracing some other ruler. The wardens will dismiss your petitions as historical curiosities!”
“Perchance! “ Azak said equitably. “Then I shall merely ask that they remove my curse, so that I may marry your niece. That matters more to me than all the kingdoms in Pandemia. “
There was a pause, when Inosolan should have agreed, and said nothing.
Kadolan reached for another arrow, and there were only two left in her quiver. One of those she must not use, so she tried the other. “But to anger a sorcerer?”
“Personally I should like to disembowel him with a gardening fork! ” said Inos. “Horrid old fat fool, messing around with my mind! I am not going to hang around here so that Rasha and Warlock Olybino can marry me off to a goblin. Can you get us out of here, First Lionslayer?”
“Your wish is my command, my love. “
“Are you coming, Aunt?”
Kadolan sighed. “Yes, dear. If you insist,” she said, and she left the other argument unspoken. For weeks that giant young djinn had been wooing Inosolan as best he could, but for a Zarkian male to be seen spending time in the company of a woman, and especially his supposed wife, was to risk seeming unmanly. Thus Azak’s courting had been seriously handicapped. Now he would have Inosolan all to himself, from dawn to dusk, uninterrupted. True, he would still be hampered by his inability to touch her—what a blessing that curse was!—but she would have his undiluted attention.
Inos had been handling him very well. She had neither spurned nor encouraged. She had been tactful and kind, promising nothing, committing to nothing. The poise she had learned so well at Kinvale had stood her in good stead so far. But she was very young; she was homeless and friendless, and in great need of support. Alone with Azak for an entire month or longer, could even Inos continue to resist his logic, his persistence, his undeniable charm?
Kadolan was not a gambling person, but she knew a long shot when she saw one.
5
Day dawned through a strangely undesertlike fog. It might have been a cloud, for by then the travelers were already high into the hills.
Departure from Tall Cranes had been a very educational procedure. Inos had listened in fascination as Azak reduced both hamlet and caravan to utter confusion. Although the visual detail had been obscured by darkness, she had been able to make out enough from the sounds alone.
The famous Code of the Lionslayers had proved to be much less reliable than the proverbs about not trusting djinns. Gold and promises had worked their usual wonders. Although she did not hear the actual words of treachery, Inos could guess that exiled princes would readily succumb to offers of future royal status in the court of Arakkaran—even though they had no reason to expect Azak’s pledges to be any more reliable than their own oaths. However he did it, Azak prevailed and Elkarath was betrayed.
If the villagers had guards of their own posted, then the lionslayers dealt with them—Inos preferred not to know—but probably the foxes had not expected danger from the chickens. Most of the men were absent, anyway.
The camels had been freed of their hobbles and bells, and driven from their paddocks. By dawn they might be anywhere. The rest of the livestock—mules, cattle, horses, even poultry—had also been chased out into the night. Some had tried to follow the fugitives for a while, but had eventually given up. The lionslayers had loaded their familes and taken off south, to Ullacam. When the old sheik awoke, he was going to have much to keep him occupied—marooned and defenseless amid a very hostile population. No one was going to be starting a pursuit for quite some time.
Mules would be better than camels in the mountains, Azak had said, so it was from the back of a mule that Inos greeted the dawn. A mule was not a smooth ride, but the tough little beasts had climbed and climbed and climbed without protest. Already Tall Cranes was a long way back and a long way down.
The night wind had gone, or else it was confined to the valley and the mule train was now above it. A pearly glow filled the air, and she could smell dampness for the first time in weeks. Delicious! The mules’ small hooves clopped on a smooth stone surface.
“A road?” Inos said.
Azak and his mule loomed large and dark at her side, just foggy enough to hint that they were not quite corporeal. His red-bearded smile was visible now, but she had been hearing it for some time in his voice.
“The road to the city, certainly. We have been following it for an hour. It comes and goes. See?” The paving vanished below a bank of sand.
Inos twisted around and confirmed that Kade was in view now also, although misty. She waved and received a wave in reply. Wonderful old Kade! Inos herself sat the lead mule of a string of four, with her aunt bringing up the rear. Azak had kept his mount free, and rode ahead or alongside, as the terrain dictated. Even mules did not argue with Azak ak’Azakar.
Escape! Freedom!
Boulders and a few scraggy bushes appeared out of the fog, paid their respects, and withdrew to the rear like a procession of courtiers. The light was growing brighter, the fog drifting. A few minutes later, the pavement was back again. After a furlong or so, the mules reached a gully where it had been washed away, but Azak found it again on the far side.
He was very pleased with himself. He had reason to be. The current confusion in the Oasis of Tall Cranes did not bear thinking about—meaning that it was very enjoyable to think about. Revenge!
Weary as she was, not having slept all night, Inos could still convince herself that she was thinking more clearly than she had done in weeks. She said so. “I feel as if my mind has been wrapped in a blanket! Sleazy, deceitful old man! Everything feels sharper and clearer.”
“Then you agree to marry me?”
She parried with a jest, and won a laugh. Azak seemed to be feeling the same sense of relief she did. He was flippant and high-spirited. He was totally unrecognizable as the saturnine sultan who had ruled a palaceful of ferocious princes by brute terror. He was in love.
She had seen the same transformation happen at Kinvale, although never on quite such a scale. A man in love reverted to boyhood. He rediscovered fun and frolic, and cheerfully played the fool in ways he would never otherwise have considered. She had seen a normally lordly tribune leap into a fish pond to recover a lady’s hat. Temporary mating plumage, the girls had called it among themselves. It suited Azak. It made him seem much more credible as a husband in Krasnegar. But how long would it last after the courtship was over?
And he was very persistent. Even at dawn, on a mule, after a sleepless night, heading into unknown dangers, possibly being pursued by an angry sorcerer, Azak was busily wooing. He badgered, and he deflected every objection. “Tell me! ” he said. “Describe these customs that you find so unacceptable. ”
“Murder, for one thing. I know you poisoned your grandfather . . . how about Hakaraz and his snakebite? Did the snake have help?”
“Certainly. Asps do not infest royal apartments from choice, and there were six of them. The one in his boot got him.” Inos shivered. “How many brothers have you killed?”
“Eighteen. Do you want to know about uncles and cousins?” She shook her head, not wishing to look at him. The mules were back on the made road again, and the surrounding slopes were coated in rank brown grass, wet with dew. The air w
as cold yet.
“Do you wish to hear my reasons?”
“No. I’m sure you had reasons. And I know that it is the custom of the country, so they couldn’t complain that they—”
“Complaints were some of the reasons.” He was mocking, and yet serious, too. “But I shall have no relatives around in Krasnegar to vent my barbarous impulses on. It just isn’t as much fun with commoners, somehow.”
“Oh, Azak! I know you don’t do it for fun, but . . . Oh, Azak! Look!”
The fog swirled as if bowing farewell, and withdrew like a drapery. Sunlight blazed hot and bright. Inos stared up in amazement at a rugged mountain that filled the sky, seeming to overhang her; and yet the craggy hills directly ahead were sizable in their own right. Then, even more dramatic, the crumbled yellow landscape seemed to waken like a sleeping dragon and transform itself before her eyes into the ruined city that was their immediate goal. Cliff became wall, peak tower, gorge gateway. And Kade cried out.
Azak wheeled his mule even before Inos had hauled hers to a stop. She dropped the reins and scrambled off its back, suddenly aware of stiffness and stabbing aches. And she was not a quarter of Kade’s age! How could she have been so thoughtless as to drag the old lady up here without any decent respite? Keeping her up all night . . .
By the time she had limped back to the fourth mule and her aunt, Azak was dismounting a short way farther back, and Kade was full of apologies. She had dropped her breviary, was all.
Well, if she could attempt to read and ride a mule at the same time, she was in not too bad a shape.
“We must take a break, though,” Inos said. —
Azak nodded agreement as he returned with the missing book, leading his mule. Although his mule was larger than any of the others, in the light of day he seemed absurdly huge alongside it, like a man walking a dog.
The sky was blue, the sun hot, and sunward the land tumbled away in scrawny ridges to the hazy immensity of the desert. Inos had a sudden heady sensation of being a bird. The view was breathtaking. She was amazed at the height they reached already, at the vastness of the world spread out before her.