by Peter David
My fury bubbling over, I slammed my hand against a nearby decorative pillar. Kate looked up with momentary concern, but then returned to her reading. “Damn them! My enemies benefit from fortune at every turn! One postpones his reckoning through injury, the other through conniving!” Mordant let out a sympathetic screech and looked hopefully at my lieutenants as if to say, Can I eat them now? I wondered briefly if Mordant would be able to track down Beliquose, but I couldn’t quite see how. My assumption was that Mordant tracked by scent, and there was no way for him to distinguish Beliquose’s spoor from any other. “What of Bicce? She has not gotten away as well, has she? Or been killed? From what I’m hearing, any act of incompetence is possible.”
But Slake said, “No, Peacelord. She is still in our grasp.”
“Bring her here. Now.”
For response, Slake turned to That Guy and nodded. That Guy immediately exited the courtyard, and returned moments later hauling the one and only Bicce. I recognized her instantly, of course; how could I not? Some of her fur was singed, and she had a few more bruises, but it was most definitely her. Her clothes were in tatters, but since she was so hirsute, there was never any question of defiled modesty. Thick cords were wrapped around her upper torso, and she was partly hunched over like the animal that she was. Her nostrils flared before she was within twenty feet of me. Oh, she recognized me, all right, and didn’t look especially happy to see me. I could hardly blame her.
“Well well well,” I said as That Guy hauled Bicce before me.
“On your knees before the Peacelord,” Slake snarled at her, and when she did not comply, he came in behind her and slammed the backs of her knees with the flat of his sword blade. Bicce let out a yelp and sank to her knees, but she didn’t even bother to afford Slake a glance. Instead she never took the baleful glare of her one good eye from me. She wasn’t even struggling against her bonds anymore, which surprised me somewhat. Given the nature of the creature that she was, I would have thought that she would be rolling about on the floor in fits of struggle to free herself, rather than just gazing upon me.
“Pathetic, wretched creature,” I said. “Pity that it’s not capable of …”
“Master.”
I was dumbfounded to hear the word come from her throat. I had just assumed that she was more dumb beast than anything remotely human. I looked up at my men and demanded, “Why didn’t you tell me she could speak?”
“I … we had no idea, Peacelord.” Slake was almost stammering. “We thought it mute. Inarticulate. It has said nothing before now …”
“She.” Her voice was low and gravely, and was virtually a snarl with every breath, but she was perfectly understandable. She was looking poisonously at Slake, clearly irked at being referred to with such a neutral form of speech as “It.”
Slake looked to me for guidance, and I simply shrugged. Mirroring the gesture, he amended, “She has said nothing before now …”
“Yet now she does. Interesting.” My hands draped behind my back, I walked slowly around her, keeping my gaze as focused upon her as hers was upon me. “She says ‘Master.’ Are you asking me the whereabouts of your master, Bicce?”
Confusion passed through her face. “Master is here,” she said.
My lieutenants immediately started to reach for their swords, to “protect” me from Beliquose who—according to Bicce—was near. But I was having a glimmer of a notion, and seeking clarification, I asked, “Beliquose is here?”
She shook her head vehemently. “You are here. Master is here.”
And now it was the Lady Kate who followed me into the land of comprehension. “She’s saying,” Kate said as she put down the scrolls, now utterly caught up in the moment, “that you are her master now.”
Bicce nodded vehemently.
But Slake was instantly shaking his head. He walked quickly around her, pointing at her with irately trembling finger as if she were something unclean. “Don’t believe it, Peacelord. It … she … is a wretched creature and perfectly capable of some sort of trick. Do not unbind her. Slay her. She was beloved by Beliquose. Her death will hurt him.”
“Beliquose left me,” Bicce growled with unmistakable resentment. “You capture. Am yours now by right of capture. You new master.”
I considered this announcement for a long moment. Mordant squawked at her, and she bared her teeth with such feral abandon that it actually caused Mordant obvious discomfort, and he slunk back against me. I found that, to some degree, amusing. It was entertaining to see the normally boisterous Mordant disconcerted for once.
“Do you wish to make your new master happy, Bicce?” I asked. “Would you like to be well attended to, and fed and pampered, and treated much better than that brute Beliquose ever did?”
She didn’t seem to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. She frowned at me, and said again, “You new master.” The message was obvious. Such things as how she was treated were of no consequence to her. She was treated the way her master—whoever that was—chose to treat her, and for her life didn’t really extend beyond that. Speaking to her about perks of decent and caring ownership meant as much to her as describing the palette of colors in a rainbow meant to someone blind from birth.
So I jumped directly to the matter that was of most concern to me. “Can you lead me to Beliquose?” I asked.
And without hesitation, she said, “Yes.” She turned and looked off to the west. “There.”
“Will you take me? Will you help me hunt down your former master?”
“Yes.”
I turned to one of the servants. “Prepare a horse for me at once.”
“Peacelord, no!” Both Slake and Boar Tooth were crying out in unison and indignation. Boar Tooth overshouted Slake, continuing, “There is no need for you to—”
“Risk myself?” I looked at him disdainfully as the servant scrambled away to do my bidding. “Is that what you were going to say? Are you forgetting, Boar Tooth, to whom you are speaking? What could Beliquose do to me?”
“At least bring a regiment with you. We can assemble—”
“—a squad of men who will be eager to take on Beliquose himself. I see no point in that. Besides, gentlemen … you saw the remains of the ambush they attempted upon me. Do you seriously think that, desperate and on the run, Beliquose poses some sort of physical threat to me? If I bring a squad of men, that will just present Beliquose with numerous vulnerable targets.” I shook my head. “No, thank you. I will, however, bring That Guy to hold Bicce’s leash, for I do not entirely trust her.”
“As well you should not, my love,” said the Lady Kate. “Creatures such as this are never dependable.” Gods, she looked gorgeous. For a heartbeat I considered tossing aside the entire thing and instead hauling her away to bed, so enticing was she. It was as if the war and subsequent discord had brought out the best in her.
“I share your concerns.” I turned back to Bicce. “Do you hear that, hound? You are on probation with me. You will lead us, with That Guy,” and I pointed to the malevolent, silent swordsman, “as your keeper. If you lead us astray, if you endeavor to betray us … if there ever comes a time when we think that you are acting on behalf of Beliquose instead of serving my interests … That Guy will cut you down where you stand. Is that clear?”
“Clear,” she said immediately.
“With any luck,” I said, slapping my hands and rubbing them together briskly, “Meander will have recovered by the time I return, and we can make a considerable show of disposing of him as well.” I strode over to Kate, took her in my arms, and kissed her firmly. “I shall return to you,” I said with as much of the devil-may-care attitude in my voice as I could muster, “before my side of the bed has completely cooled. And I will bring the head of an enemy with me.”
“For me?”
“Yes. To celebrate.”
She sighed sadly. “And here I didn’t get you anything.”
Chapter 4
Ifs, Ands, and Buttes
&nbs
p; You do realize, it’s intended to be a trap.”
I was speaking to Mordant, who was crouched upon a rock nearby. He was watching me with that combination of curiosity and vague disdain that I had come to know all too well. A distance away, That Guy had brought Bicce over to a watering hole where she was eagerly lapping up liquid refreshment, while That Guy filled the water skins. He never took his eyes off her. I was beginning to think that the reason That Guy never spoke was because he wanted to be able to consistently concentrate on everything around him.
We had been traveling for several days, and Bicce had never slowed in the least. Having sworn fealty to me, she loped on ahead as far as the makeshift leash we had her upon would allow her. Every so often she would stop and sniff the ground or the air, occasionally even moving in slow circles before satisfying herself in the direction that she was going.
But I had my suspicions nonetheless. I had not voiced them to any of my followers, because I had no wish to make them apprehensive. Nor did I want to say anything in Bicce’s presence and therefore arouse her suspicions. To Mordant, however, in the privacy of the moment, I could say whatever I wished.
Mordant stared at me patiently, and I wondered—not for the first time, of course—just how much he was comprehending. I had gone behind the rock to answer the call of nature; invincibility had not relieved me of the necessity of attending to such mundane functions. And as I went about my business, I muttered to Mordant, “Hounds such as Bicce do not simply turn against their masters. She may have surprised me with her ability to speak, but there are certain things that I believe are inviolable, and a hound’s loyalty is one of them. Besides, I saw how she interacted with Beliquose. She would do anything for him. She adores him to such a degree that it wouldn’t surprise me if she bears love for him … or as much love as such a semi-human creature can lay claim to.”
Mordant actually seemed interested in what I was saying, tilting his head slightly. His eyes were utterly unblinking as he appeared to hang on my every word.
Even though we were not in danger of being overheard, I lowered my voice even more. “What I think more likely is this: I think she’s operating on Beliquose’s instructions. She allowed herself to be captured and is functioning, as she always has, in his interests. This suggests one of two possibilities: She’s leading us toward him, or in the totally opposite direction from him. However, I don’t think it’s the latter. We’re trailing someone. I’ve seen enough signs, the markings that men on horseback invariably leave behind, to be sure of that. Of course, we could be trailing someone other than Beliquose. And if it turns out that Bicce has been less than honest with us, we simply kill her and are none the worse for our time. But I suspect,” I said slowly, “that she is in fact bringing us to him. Which means … he has something planned. And you know what?” I grinned broadly. “I don’t care.”
And I didn’t.
My invincibility had totally liberated me from any concerns as to how I would proceed in whatever circumstances were thrust upon me. No longer was I second-guessing my opponents. No longer was I feeling as if I was engaged in a battle of wits with the world. I was more than content for the world to come at me with everything it had to offer, confident that—aside from my little difficulty with fire—I would be able to handle it. And I didn’t think that Beliquose was planning an inferno to greet me.
Not where he was headed … for it was Mount Aerie that loomed before us.
Barely a day’s ride ahead of us was the impressive mountain. It was not all that long ago that Sharee and I had been staggering across the Tragic Waste with the mountains coming no closer to us no matter how much we struggled. Such was not the case here. Mount Aerie grew closer and closer, and the closer it came, the more daunting it appeared.
There was a range of mountains around it, but Mount Aerie was unmistakable. It was the largest, with peaks so high and swathed in such clouds and mist that I would almost have been given to speculate that gods were sitting atop it, looking down and wondering whether any humans would be so vain as to think they could approach the skylords. In the upper reaches I saw the whitecaps that indicated snow sat upon them, which made me wonder just how cold it was up there. Impervious as I was to harm, I couldn’t help but wonder whether frigid weather would prove daunting to me. After all, if extremes of heat had been a problem, it was possible that opposite extremes could also give me difficulties.
But I was not about to back off the chase now … even if it was, as I thought it might be, an attempted ambush.
Bicce and That Guy were well-matched. She rarely spoke, and he never did. That was fine as far as I was concerned. I wasn’t interested in chitchat; I wanted to find my man, put paid to him, and ride back to the Golden City so that I could take some well-deserved rest. Every so often I even regretted having embarked on this newest, maddest adventure. When you got down to it, what was Beliquose, really? Yes, he’d cost me Bugger Hall. Considering, though, everything that I had garnered in exchange, I couldn’t help but think that in the end I had gotten the better part of the bargain.
Still … he had allied himself with Meander. And one of his men had shot me in the buttocks with an arrow, back at a time when such wounds were far more than a mere inconvenience. Yes, on further consideration, this endeavor was time well spent.
We passed several buttes that were not part of the mountain range which contained Mount Aerie, and I wondered if Beliquose was hiding in one of them. But Bicce passed them by without hesitation. She seemed quite confident in where she was going, and if this was indeed a trap, then naturally she had every reason to be self-assured.
It was midmorning of the fourth day of our pursuit when Bicce guided us into a canyon leading up to some foothills. Mount Aerie loomed, and as we rode our horses up through the canyon, I was quickly becoming aware that we were not going to be able to take the animals much farther.
Suddenly I chided myself as an idiot. We were in a canyon, for the love of the gods, with towering walls on either side. A canyon was an ideal place for an ambuscade that provided no danger for the attackers whatsoever. All they needed to do was position themselves anywhere above us and send a mass of carefully prepared rocks down upon our unprotected heads. It didn’t matter how invulnerable I was. If I was immobilized beneath a ton of rubble, I would lie there until the end of time … or until I starved to death, which would come much sooner. I hadn’t tested that aspect of my endurance, but as far as I knew, I required food to survive just like anyone else. And I wasn’t willing to risk being buried alive to test whether that was true or not.
“Stop!” I called, and That Guy immediately reined up. He yanked sharply on the rope, bringing Bicce to a halt as well. She turned and looked at us. Her expression was carefully neutral. I had no idea what was going through her feral little mind.
I scanned the upper reaches of the valley as best I could. I saw nothing. That, of course, didn’t necessarily mean anything. Mordant was perched upon my arm, and I turned to him. Whether the creature truly spoke, whether it comprehended spoken language, all that was uncertain … but there was one thing that was indisputable. The little drabit understood intent and need. “Listen to me, Mordant. I need you to be my eyes in the sky. Fly up there and see whether the valley ahead of us is clear of traps.”
He paused a moment, seeming to consider the words, and then with no thrust from me, he leaped skyward, flapping his wings several times for added lift before catching easy currents through the valley. He soared higher, higher, and I watched him go. Then I looked to Bicce. If she was concerned with any sort of ambush being discovered, she certainly was doing a masterful job of hiding it, particularly considering that she would have been buried alive with us. But instead of seeming perturbed, she was busy licking her fur to clean herself. I hoped she didn’t start licking her own privates. I didn’t need to see that. That Guy, for his part, seemed content to sit upon his horse and await further development. He certainly had a calm approach to life. I envied him a bit.
Some minutes passed, and then a screech heralded the arrival of Mordant. As heartless as it sounded, the fact that he was returning at all was a good sign. If there were archers hidden above and they recognized him as belonging to me, they might well have taken a chance of putting an arrow in him so as to head off any possibility of their presence being tipped. I extended my arm and he landed upon it obediently.
“Well?” I said, knowing that the chances of Mordant promptly launching into a full and articulate report were fairly slim. I was counting on my ability, really, to interpret his mood.
If that was what I was using to guide me, then I had to assume by his relaxed demeanor that there was no danger ahead. I reasoned that if there was, he would be squawking or jumping about or endeavoring in some way to warn me. Either that or I was putting the safety of myself and one of my lieutenants in the hands—well, wings—of a dumb animal who hadn’t a clue what I wanted to know and instead had just coincidentally gone in search of a midmorning snack.
For a moment the old Apropos reared his head and suggested in no uncertain terms that this was sheer folly, I was risking my life for no damned good reason, and we should turn tail and run while the opportunity was still available to us. I could not, however, bring myself to do it. Call it hubris if you will, overconfidence if you desire. Even pride, an attribute which was a luxury that I had never afforded myself before. In some small measure, though, I had begun to believe what everyone else had been saying about me. I knew perfectly well I wasn’t a god … but I was about as damned close as anyone was ever going to see in this world, and demigods simply didn’t run away from suspicions.
“Let’s go,” I said briskly, and so we did.
Farther into the valley we went, and then into a ravine, and the horses’ footing was becoming more and more unsure. I knew we’d pushed the creatures as far as we dared. A fall was nearly inevitable if we kept going on them, and a horse with a broken limb meant a dead animal and a slow ride back with two of us on one beast. If both horses injured themselves, well … it was going to be a hell of a long walk back to the Golden City.