The Crusading Wizard

by Christopher Stasheff

  “And who has captured your grandchildren!” Lakshmi agreed. “Can you find them from that?”

  · “I doubt it,” Ramon said, “the more so because we know who ordered the kidnapping done, but not who actually carried it out—and we certainly do not know the destination to which the kidnapper took the children.”

  “It is so.” Lakshmi’s face puckered again. “Nor do we know where my own babes were taken …”

  “Oh, do not weep, do not!” Jimena took Lakshmi in her arms again. “We know more than we did, and we shall learn what we need!” She held the taller woman close and turned to Ramon. “Speak with Saul! Find these robbers, and quickly!”

  Ramon nodded and beckoned to the Witch Doctor. They went back into the tower, talking earnestly.

  Lakshmi lifted her head, wiping her eyes. “Where do they go?”

  “To their workroom,” Jimena told her. “Be of good heart, Princess—you have three very powerful wizards to aid you, and what the vision of the djinn cannot discover, the science of magicians shall.”

  The Caliph was conducting his royal guest and new ally on a tour of the battlements of Damascus when a shout of joy rose from the western wall. “Muslims! An army of Muslims!”

  “What army is this?” The Caliph turned to Alisande, inclining his head. “Your Majesty, shall we go to see?”

  Alisande smiled at his eagerness. “At once, my lord. Set the pace.”

  Without armor, clad only in flowing silken robes, she was easily able to match the Caliph’s stride. Matt hurried along behind, thinking that if his stint as a galley slave had done nothing else, it had gotten him back into shape.

  As they rounded the southwest corner they saw the army. It darkened the plain in a huge wedge of horses and camels, the soldiers so numerous that it seemed they must surely equal the horde. At their head, beneath a canopy held by four riders and astride a snow-white mare, rode a slender young man in the bright robes of the Rif.

  “It is Tafas!” Alisande exclaimed. “It is Tafas bin Daoud! The Moors have come to the relief of Damascus!”

  “Thanks be unto Allah!” the Caliph intoned, then called, “Throw wide the gates, for these are allies!”

  “Surely now we can drive the horde back to Baghdad, my lord,” Alisande said, “perhaps even recapture it!”

  The Caliph nodded. “It may be, it may indeed be. With your knights to smash a gap in the barbarians’ line, and Tafas’ lightly armored riders to counter their horsemen and widen that breach, we may well resist their numbers and greed.”

  Then the dust-devil boiled up from the stones of the parapet, where there was little or no dust at all.

  The Arab soldiers fell back with oaths, making signs against evil. Alisande took a step backward, too, hand going to the sword that was never far from her side, and Matt called up an all-purpose verse for banishing evil spirits. What came to his lips, though, was:

  “Stay rotation, stop your storm!

  Spirit, stand and show your form!”

  The whirling sand abruptly ceased, grains falling to the stone in a fine hissing rain, and the sprite within jolted to a halt so abruptly that it staggered, barely managing to keep its feet. It recovered and turned slowly, regarding each of the humans with a gaze so malevolent that Alisande’s sword whisked out. The rasping voice demanded, “Who has dared to interfere with my motion?”

  “I have!” Matt stepped forward, fists on hips. “Shall I call up a storm to drench and dissolve you, or chant a spell to suck you into a bottle and cork it?”

  The spirit’s eyes widened; it shrank away. “You cannot!”

  Matt began a singsong chant:

  “Let mist rise from bog and fen,

  Gather clouds beyond our ken—”

  “I shall obey!” the dust-devil cried. “What would you have of me?”

  The Caliph stared, then transferred that stare to Matt.

  “Truth,” Matt replied. “Who sent you?”

  “A magus all in midnight-blue, with silver hair and beard.”

  “His name?” Matt demanded.

  The dust-devil gave him a nasty grin, recovering some of its confidence. “What magus would give a name whereby to wreak ill upon him?”

  “One who lies,” Matt retorted, “one who knows how to keep his true name secret. So he gave you no name at all, and you obeyed him without asking. What magic had he wrought to make you fear him so?”

  The dust-devil turned wide-eyed and began to tremble. “Another dust-devil, like to me! He conjured it up, and made it cease to exist with a single gesture, only a couplet of song!”

  Matt frowned. “You are of the elements of air and earth. To make one of you cease utterly, he must have wrapped it in a cloud of steam.”

  The wide eyes stretched to take up half the spirk’s face. “How did you know!”

  “I am a wizard as powerful as he,” Matt said, “and shall banish you as utterly unless you speak truth. Why did the magus send you here?”

  “To—To bear a message,” the dust-devil stammered.

  “Speak, then!”

  The dust-devil cowered, but spoke in a trembling tone. “Your children are stolen away! You shall never see them again unless the queen turns her army about and withdraws from the defense of this city at once, and you with her!” Its voice rose to a wail. “Blame me not! It is not I who stole your babes! I only speak what I have been given to say!”

  Matt’s eyes widened, and the stare he gave the dust-devil would have been enough to set a brave man trembling—but the fury that blazed forth from Alisande cast his in the shade. She didn’t speak a word, but stepped closer to the dust-devil, sword rising. Its cold iron might not have hurt an Arab spirit the way it would have burned a European, but the spirk cowered away from her rage and the wizard behind her, gibbering nonsense.

  It was the Caliph who spoke, who made some sense of the message. “Who did kidnap the children?”

  “I know not!” the dust-devil howled. “I know only that the blue magus commanded me to tell you of it! I know not where they are!”

  “So,” the Caliph said heavily, “the high priest of Ahriman will stoop to any means to win his war, the more, evil the better.” He turned to Alisande. “We know who we fight. There is no profit in slaying this impudent creature—it bore nothing but the message.”

  “There is no profit in keeping it with us, either,” Alisande said through stiff lips. “Husband, banish me this spirk!”

  The dust-devil didn’t wait. With a moan that rose into a howl, it began to pirouette, spinning faster and faster until its form blurred into a funnel-cloud again. With a bound, it rose into the air, sailed out over the wall, and sank to the ground, humming and skittering toward the Moorish army.

  Tafas’ chief wizard chanted a verse and pointed a wand at the dust-devil. A huge fat spark exploded at its rim. The funnel-cloud bounced high, shrieking, and went skipping and hopping away from the army, away from Damascus, and over the horizon.

  The Caliph turned a somber face to Alisande and Matt, to find the queen pale, rigid, but composed, and her husband hunched and seething, his face dark with anger.

  “How then, Majesty and Lord Wizard?” the Caliph asked. “How shall we deal with this news?”

  “I cannot chance my children’s lives, my lord,” Alisande said through stiff lips, “I deeply regret, but I must leave your side, and all my army with me.”

  “We will be safe in Damascus,” the Caliph assured her, “now that Emir Tafas has joined us.”

  “But that doesn’t get us our children back,” Matt said, “and giving in to kidnappers only encourages them to try again.”

  Alisande whirled to him, staring as though he had betrayed her. “You do not mean to stay!”

  “Of course not,” Matt said. “On the other hand, the message didn’t say how fast you had to return to Merovence, and you don’t have to load everybody back aboard ship. You could just march your army around the Mediterranean.”

  “And be nearby if th
e horde attacks Byzantium?” Alisande asked bitterly. “I would only receive another demand that I forgo the battle!”

  “Yes, but if, in the meantime, I have managed to find the kids and rescue them, you’d still be close enough to turn back and join the attack on Damascus.”

  Alisande stared at him for a long minute. Then, slowly, she began to smile, the light of battle kindling in her eyes.

  “This is a grievous risk,” the Caliph said doubtfully. “Do you truly think you can save your babes?”

  “If any man can, he can—and he is right that we dare not leave them hostages to a man so evil,” Alisande told him. “Belike Arjasp will slay them anyway, when he has done with his conquering.”

  “Even so,” the Caliph said, “it is nevertheless quite dangerous. Do you not wish them to have every minute of life they can?”

  “I certainly do,” Matt said, “and the only way they’re going to live to grow up is if I go find them and bring them out by my magic.”

  “It will take great wizardry indeed,” Alisande said with a catch in her voice, “if the magus succeeded in stealing them from your mother and father, and the Witch Doctor, too!”

  “Mighty magic, or a traitor in their midst,” Matt said darkly. “Never underestimate the power of human greed, or good old-fashioned violence.”

  “Simple solutions are often the best,” the Caliph agreed.

  “Nonetheless, whatever watchers Arjasp has sent, they will have to see Her Majesty’s army ride away,” Matt said, “and me with them. Of course, they probably won’t mind if I go off on my own.”

  A sudden weight struck his shoulder, and purring buzzed in his ear.

  In spite of himself, Matt looked up at the white cat with a smile. “Well, not entirely alone. What’s the matter, Balkis? Don’t like people mistreating kittens, even if they are human?”

  Balkis answered with a very emphatic yowl.

  CHAPTER 16

  Jimena and Ramon led Lakshmi back to the solar from which her attack had drawn them. The peace and harmony of the room seemed to calm the djinna instantly, the sun streaming in the tall windows onto the warm, polished woodwork and furniture and brightening the colors in the tapestries. Jimena showed her to a chair, told the guard to send for some of the coffee Tafas bin Daoud had been sending them, then summoned Lady Eldori.

  “I do not understand,” Lakshmi protested. “What good can come of what this woman may not remember?”

  “We deal with an enemy that is prince of negatives,” Jimena told her. She realized that, to Lakshmi, anything that didn’t relate directly to the finding of her own twins must seem a waste of time. She patted the younger woman’s hand. “Patience, my dear. Whoever kidnapped your children may have kidnapped Matthew’s, too. It is worth trying to pick up the trail here.”

  “Would it not be better to trace them by the slipper?” Lakshmi touched her bodice, as though reassuring herself the little garment was still where she’d left it.

  “It would be as good,” Jimena conceded, “but not better. Where do you find the beginning of a circle, my dear?”

  “Why …” Lakshmi gazed off into space a moment, thinking. “Anywhere!”

  “Exactly.” Jimena nodded, settling back in her hourglass chair. “And Lady Eldori will start us as well as your babe’s bootie. Come in, milady!”

  Lady Eldori entered with furtive glances at Lakshmi. Ramon rose in respect.

  “Please sit, my lord,” Lady Eldori said automatically. She glanced at Lakshmi and tilted her chin up with a sniff of scorn for the scantiness of the guest’s attire.

  Jimena said, “Lady Eldori, may I present the Princess Lakshmi.”

  Lady Eldori stared, then, flustered, dropped a curtsy. “Your Highness! My pardon for not recognizing your exalted station!”

  “Granted,” Lakshmi said, amused.

  With a nervous glance at her, Lady Eldori turned to her mistress. “What further help can I be, Lady Mantrell?”

  “Only to repeat what you spoke before our interruption, milady,” Jimena said. “Whose turn was it to care for the prince and princess when the castle was under attack?”

  “The Lady Violette’s, as I said—and she is not here.”

  “Have you searched while we dealt with the disturbance?”

  The disturbance, sitting next to her, blushed.

  “We have, milady.” Lady Eldori lifted her chin again. “She is not to be found.”

  Jimena frowned. “Nowhere within the castle?”

  “Nowhere at all.” Lady Eldori‘s voice was heavy with censure. “Not in her apartments, nor in the nursery, nor anywhere that we can find.”

  “So the children’s nursemaid has disappeared with them?” Lakshmi asked, wide-eyed.

  “I would not have put it that way, Your Highness,” Lady Eldori said, “but that is the gist of it, yes.”

  Lakshmi turned to Jimena, frowning. “Why would the kidnapper take the nursemaid also?”

  “Perhaps because she clasped the children to her,” Jimena suggested.

  “There is a less pleasant possibility,” Ramon said in a somber tone.

  All three women turned to him, bracing themselves. “What is that, my husband?” Jimena asked.

  “It may be that Lady Violette is herself the kidnapper,” Ramon said.

  Jimena and Lady Eldori stared, taken aback, but Lakshmi’s eyes narrowed. “I should have seen that.”

  “But … but why would a lady-in-waiting steal her own charges?” Lady Eldori protested.

  Ramon shrugged. “As I remember, she is young and unwed. Perhaps a handsome gentleman played upon her affections—or a less handsome one upon her greed.”

  A shadow crossed Lady Eldori’s face. “She had a great fondness for fine gowns and other luxuries …”

  “And a yearning for freedom?” Ramon suggested. “Life within these castle walls might seem confining to a young woman still in her teens. The promise of money and the freedom to enjoy the pleasures it could buy might persuade her.”

  “She is young and foolish,” Lady Eldori snapped. “Such fripperies might move her indeed.”

  Storm clouds gathered in Lakshmi’s face.

  To avert the blast, Jimena said quickly, “Let us discover where she has gone, then—and trust we shall find her alive.”

  Lakshmi spun to her, appalled. “I had not stopped to think … but of course …”

  “That Lady Violette might have died in defense of her charges, and her body hidden so that we should waste time searching for her?” Jimena nodded. “Still, do not be too quick to pity her, Highness—we may yet find her alive, well, and enjoying the fruits of her treachery.”

  Lakshmi’s face hardened. “We may indeed! Bring me some article that belonged to this woman—clothing, or a kerchief, or something else that touched her body.”

  Lady Eldori stared in confusion, but Ramon only observed, eyes kindling with interest, and Jimena turned to the lady-in-waiting and nodded. “Find something of the sort, Lady Eldori, and bring it to us, if it pleases you.”

  “It will most assuredly please me!” Lady Eldori bustled out the door.

  She was back in two minutes with a handkerchief, and presented it to Lakshmi with a curtsy. “Will this do, Highness?”

  Lakshmi sniffed the square of linen, then nodded. “It has still her scent, and has not been laundered since last she used it. It will do admirably.” She turned to Jimena. “May I see the nursery?”

  “Of course.” Jimena rose and led the way.

  The emptiness of the room still tugged at her heart, and at Lakshmi‘s, too, to judge by the tears that filled her eyes. But she blinked them away and waved a hand over the handkerchief, fingers writhing in intricate gestures, and chanted a verse in Arabic.

  Footprints glowed, brightening slowly on the floor and the carpet.

  Lady Eldori gasped. Ramon and Jimena blinked, and wished they understood Arabic.

  “Let us see where she has gone.” Lakshmi paced the footprint-trail from t
he doorway. The marks of the noble nursemaid’s shoes went in and out the door several times and here and there about the chamber, as anyone’s caring for small children would. Lakshmi picked up a brightly colored ball and gestured over it, reciting her spell, and tiny footprints glowed, too, here and there about the chamber. Finally, though, the lady’s trail led to one set of small footprints, which ceased, then to the other, which also ceased.

  “Here she picked them up.” Ramon pointed.

  “And there she went with them.” Lakshmi traced the path to the door, her face grim.

  “She did steal them!” Lady Eldori went pale, and Jimena, looking at her, could see she hadn’t really believed in the possibility until then.

  “Follow,” Lakshmi snapped, and paced alongside the footprints as they left the room.

  Ramon and Jimena came after. With professional curiosity, Ramon murmured, “How can she know these footprints are only a few hours old? Surely Lady Violette has come and gone from that chamber a thousand times!”

  “No doubt the spell limited the trail to that duration,” Jimena answered. “Perhaps Lakshmi commanded only the most recent footprints to show.”

  Ramon nodded and followed.

  Down the stairs they went, out the door and into the courtyard. When the trail led to the postern gate, Ramon called for horses and a dozen soldiers.

  Accompanied by the small troop, they rode out of the castle and down into the city. Jimena reflected that it must have been only courtesy that kept Lakshmi riding by their side when she could have drifted like smoke over the trail far faster than they rode. She seemed quite at home on horseback, though her mount wasn’t anywhere nearly so calm—it rolled its eyes and fought the bit, wanting to run from the very creature it carried.