by Glen Cook
XXXIII
Shai Khe's feet hit the deck of the ship. He cursed, dropped his burden. A glance told him his man was dead. He whirled, began arcing a fireworks show toward the east bank.
Su-Cha decided it was time he absented himself from the sorcerer's company. To go on meant ever-increasing danger. And it was unlikely that Shai Khe would ever be less attentive than he was at the moment.
His intent was to slip over the side behind Shai Khe, hit the water, become a porpoise, and swim as if sharks were after him.
Rider saw Su-Cha begin to move, guessed his approximate intent.
He would never make it. A sorcerer of Shai Khe's attainments never became so angry or so distracted he failed to notice the movement of people around him.
Rider cooked up a little golden firework of his own.
This quite needless bombardment, which threatened to demolish the district, hinted that the easterner was fishing for a reaction anyway.
Su-Cha was not expendable. Neither were the people of the district.
Rider stepped out and delivered his apple-sized golden ball in one smooth motion. It streaked across the river. Halfway over it looked as if it would miss the smuggler by fifteen feet. Three quarters of the way over it began to slide to the right. In the last fifty feet it jumped.
It impacted upon the ship. Light flared. Timbers flew. A third of the smuggler burst into flames.
Mocking laughter and a volley of blue fireworks were Shai Khe's responses. He had won the roll, drawing Rider out.
Rider noted that Su-Cha was in the water.
He plucked another golden ball out of his left hand and hurled it. This one streaked straight toward Shai Khe. Another followed an instant later. Then another. The first died a hundred yards from the blazing ship, the second fifty. The third almost reached the easterner.
Shai Khe grabbed his surviving airshipman and bounded away, in leaps as long as those -he had taken when he crossed the river. He trailed wicked laughter.
Rider's golden balls pursued him, through every twist and turn of his flight through Henchelside.
"Wondered when you were going to turn up," Chaz said, coming to stand beside Rider and glare at the burning ship.
"You played too long a bet," Rider admonished gently. "You'd all have been dead if I hadn't."
"I know." The barbarian was not the least chagrined as he added, "We didn't expect you. Glad you showed, though."
Others began leaving cover. Even a few residents began looking out to see if the storm had passed.
General Procopio lumbered up. "Good show! Eh? What? Got the beggar on the run. What next?"
"First we dig the woman out of the warehouse," Rider said.
Chaz gaped. "But ... The sorcerer. He carried her off with him."
Rider chuckled. "That was Su-Cha again. He ought to be turning up any second, hungry enough to eat one of us." He was talking to the barbarian's back.
"And after Chaz saves Caracene? What then?" Greystone asked. The scholar looked exhausted, physically and emotionally.
"Then we loaf down to our yards and take a short airship ride." He peered across the river. Shai Khe was no longer visible, but his progress could be traced by the fireworks he tossed off as he went.
"He's going to turn into a ghost again in about two minutes."
"Maybe. But this time I know where he will do his haunting."
XXXIV
"Caracene!" Chaz bellowed. The interior of the warehouse was a ruin. Spears of sunlight stabbed down through dust almost too thick to permit breathing. He stepped past an eastern airshipman groaning beneath rubble which buried his legs.
"Caracene!"
"Here." The woman's voice was feeble, like the mewl of an injured kitten.
She was all right. Just shaken and dirty, looking as if she had been dragged twice around the chariot course at the coliseum. Chaz's concern weakened the moment he saw her safe. Then he recalled that she had started out a witch in apparent alliance with Kralj Odehnal, and only later had she melted into the sort of woman to whom he was more accustomed.
Shai Khe was clever and savage. She might be the sorcerer's ultimate piece to be played. Chaz felt he was not as clever as Rider or Greystone. He was more likely to stumble into something unpleasant. So he was a little cool, a little distant, as he helped Caracene to her feet.
She was not so cool. She threw her arms around his neck and clung tightly, shivering like a captive rabbit.
Rider chose a larger ship this time, one intended to survive the rigors of battle. Greystone argued for speed.
"Speed will not count in this," Rider said. "Survivability will. We're coming up to the face-to-face, where Shai Khe cannot duck us anymore. If it doesn't go our way, we want to be in good shape for getting out alive."
"You really think ... "
"In an hour we'll see. He'll have to surrender or fight." Rider looked directly at Caracene. "Will he fight, knowing you are with us?"
Outside, one of the ground crew shouted that the airship lines were ready to cast off.
Caracene's gaze became evasive.
Rider repeated the question.
"He would fight," she admitted. "He cannot back down. Not for anything. He is totally committed."
Rider nodded. He surveyed his companions. "This is what we've worked toward ... I have to warn you. It could go sour. This is as great a wickedness as has ever arisen. Does anyone want out?"
"Silly question," Chaz grumbled. "What I want is to get my hands around his throat."
Everyone else nodded.
"Take your stations, then. Tell them to cast off."
It was a bright, clear day. The Bridge was a broad blue highway running to the horizon. Its face was dotted with fishing boats and merchantmen. Rider viewed that traffic with concern. Someone down there could get caught in the middle.
"Shroud's Head," Preacher announced. He was steering the monster airship while Rider prepared for what was to come. "Battle stations, everybody."
Chaz sat Caracene in a seat usually reserved for an airship's commander. "You stay put till I tell you otherwise. You hear?"
Her eyes flashed fire, Rider noted. She had begun to show sparks of life. But she did as she was told, if only because it was the wisest thing she could do.
Spud joined Preacher in handling the airship. Chaz and the others manned some of its weapons—though little good they might do in a confrontation between sorcerers the caliber of Rider and Shai Khe. Rider said, "Take station a half mile off the point, Preacher. Hold fast there. And wait." He seemed to go completely inside himself then.
Preacher and Spud did exactly as instructed. Shroud's Head glared malevolently. Nothing happened for a long time.
"What the hell?" Soup squawked suddenly. He pointed a shaky finger.
The air before Caracene had begun to glitter. The glitter became more intense, gave way to crawling patches of color that collided, mixed, spread, shone rainbow like oil on water. They formed the outline of a man.
"Our opponent wants to talk," Rider said.
As he spoke, the colors around the figure's head sorted themselves out and became fixed in the oriental features of the sorcerer Shai Khe. For half a minute those evil green eyes stared vacantly. They sparked then, recognized Caracene, shifted their gaze to Rider.
A hissing whisper seemed to come from everywhere at once. "So. Face to face now, Ride-Master. You have been a stubborn, resourceful, and lucky opponent, if foolish now. You grow overconfident, leaving the shield of your father's web. Go back. You are overmatched here."
"I was never overmatched. You have fled me time and again. But now there is nowhere you can run. Surrender yourself."
Soft, malicious laughter filled the cabin. "I was about to suggest you do the same. For the sake of the woman. You are a gentleman, Ride-Master, and would not see her destroyed. She is of value to me. I will give you and your men your liberty, after you have been disarmed, if you return her to me."
Rider did not r
espond. He stepped to a window, examined the Bridge. The broad blue strait remained sun-drenched and busy. Finally, he faced the image of the Easterner. "Your hour is done. Give it up. Or suffer the consequences you bring upon yourself."
Rider's men stirred nervously.
"Brave, Ride-Master. But I am far too old to be bluffed that easily. Not even your father could do that." There was a glint of malice in Shai Khe's eye each time he mentioned Jehrke.
"As you will, then," Rider said. "I have warned you enough. Still, one last warning. Do not bring that airship out of Shroud's Eye. I disclaim responsibility for what will happen if you do."
Pure evil animated the sorcerer's laughter. Then he vanished.
A half hour had passed. Nothing had happened. Rider was growing concerned. Had Shai Khe, in his caution, readied one more bolt hole than expected?
"Think he's decided to take your advice?" Chaz asked.
"No. Though he may try to wait us out."
"He won't get anywhere doing that." Chaz pointed.
Four giants of the air were crossing the Bridge, two to either hand. Rider said, "Procopio. I believe we'll hear from Shai Khe soon enough now."
General Procopio had left the group back in the City. It had been his idea to land troops upon Shroud's Head, to prevent flight to the landward side. He had convinced someone very high up—maybe King Belledon himself.
The airships discharged their weapons as they passed the headland. The great stone face became spotted with fires. Several missiles penetrated the eye where Shai Khe's airship lay. The airships moved on. Soldiers slid down ropes.
A spear of emerald fire ripped out of the Devil's Eye. Its target was Rider's airship. Rider was ready. At a gesture the light bent heavenward.
Both of the monument's eyes began to burn an evil carnelian. Darkness gamboled behind the light.
The troops were all off the airships. They were linking up. Soon they would draw their line tighter.
The sea itself leapt at Rider's command, a foot-thick serpent of water rising to hammer the monument with its head. The power of that stream tore huge chunks from the stone face.
A horrible scream came from Shroud's Head. It grew louder rapidly. Just when it seemed it would become unbearable, it died.
The world was totally silent. And in the silence Rider's water monster collapsed.
The fires still burned in the monument's eyes.
The snout of an airship protruded from one.
"He's coming out," Preacher announced.
Rider nodded. "Back off. Don't let him get too close. Everybody hang on."
The pirate airship exited the Devil's Eye slowly—till its rear steering vanes cleared. Then it charged like a bull in the arena.
Rider sighed, both relieved and concerned. Such confidence might mean Shai Khe had no glimmer of his earlier visit—or it might mean that the easterner had detected it and taken steps.
Rider's airship backed down more slowly than Shai Khe's charged. The gap between ships dwindled. Chaz and the others readied their weapons. Without a battle complement Rider's ship would have a feeble sting, but still one stronger than the pirate's. The easterner would have no crew to spare for fighting.
A thin, almost invisible string of darkness connected Shai Khe's airship with the eye where Rider had detected the terror. The farther the easterner came out, the fatter and darker that line grew. Rider watched, face grim. "The man is smart and strong, but a fool at times."
The others did not understand. But Rider's face told them he had done something of which he was mildly ashamed.
A storm of sorceries exploded from Shai Khe's airship. Preacher dodged while Rider fended. Chaz discharged his weapon. Its flaring bolt arced toward the pirate, but fell far short.
The air before Caracene sparkled. Shai Khe's face appeared. A whisper of a voice said, "Now you meet the true despair, Ride-Master." The face vanished.
Rider looked sad.
The air itself shuddered as if from godlike hammer strokes. The black cable connecting the sorcerer's airship with the promontory fattened till it was as thick as a big man's waist. Then the landward end broke loose.
A globule of a darkness like nonexistence whipped toward Shai Khe's vessel. The eye could not fix upon it.
It impacted upon the easterner's airship.
The pirate folded like a sausage bent over a knee. "Move back now!" Rider ordered. "Move fast!"
Preacher needed no encouragement.
Everyone, on both ships, knew what would happen. But it was a long time coming—as though mocking by delay.
Shai Khe's ship folded almost double before a skin crack appeared where the strain of folding was greatest.
A gas bladder burst.
And that was the pirate's doom.
The gas exploded on contacting the air. Billows of fire flung out of the airship. The fire penetrated another bladder, which exploded in turn. The airship settled toward the water. New fires continued erupting.
Waves of heat beat against Rider's airship.
Rider took control and pressed closer, following the easterner down. Below, the nearest surface ships scurried away.
Two flaming crewmen jumped from the pirate. Rider tried to reach for them, to buoy them up, but without the web could not respond fast enough.
Gobbets of flaming ship dropped away, splashed into the Bridge, set the sea aflame.
"Holy Zephod," Preacher finally gasped. "I never saw one blow before. What a sight."
They all watched in awe.
"What's that?" Chaz asked, as the dying monster of the air started the final hundred feet of its fall.
"Sounds like ... " Su-Cha frowned. "Sounds like somebody laughing."
The sound grew swiftly louder. And it was mad laughter.
Caracene made a startled, squeaky noise. Chaz whirled. He gasped. "Rider! You won't believe ... "
Rider turned. A vast, sparkling face was taking form between him and the woman. Flames enveloped and distorted it. It was laughing.
It glared at Rider. Its laughter became mocking. All-enveloping words filled the cabin. "You have won nothing, Ride-Master. Nothing. Even I am but a messenger." More laughter, rising toward the insane.
The phantom snapped out of existence.
The pirate airship hit the water. A last half dozen gas bladders erupted at once. A violent updraft staggered Rider's airship, sent it rising and whirling. He fought for control, finally got the vessel moving toward Shasesserre.
"What did he mean, he was only a messenger?" Chaz demanded. His question was for Rider but he was looking at Caracene.
"I'm not sure," Rider replied.
"Well, I don't like it."
"I'm not sure I do, either. In some ways this has been almost too easy a victory."
"Too easy?" Su-Cha squawked.
Chaz glared at Caracene. "Woman?"
But Caracene remained silent. She stood at a window now, staring back at the nest of fire and flock of smoke celebrating Shai Khe's destruction.
XXXV
Neither Rider nor his men bragged up what had happened. But countless others had been in the affair. They talked. In fact, most of the City had become aware of the struggle before its conclusion. So when it became generally known that the threat from a great devil of a sorcerer out of the east had been overcome by Jehrke's son, there developed a general acclamation of the son as Protector in his father's stead.
King Belledon was not pleased.
Repercussions continued for some time, as the King purged or exiled the last of those who had conspired against Shasesserre.
Border situations that had threatened all along the empire's frontiers evaporated almost magically. The troublesome easternmost provinces fell into an abnormally peaceful state. Agents in those far lands said the report of Shai Khe's demise had paralyzed the eastern sorcerer's shadowed kingdom of terror. The great peril was at an end. The thing was done. Even King Belledon sent Rider his grudging gratitude and congratulations.
/> But the world was filled with illusions, and the greatest illusion of all was that of safety.
Not for the first time, Preacher asked, "What did Shai Khe mean when he said he was only a messenger?"
Rider had not forgotten that. He, Greystone, Spud, and Su-Cha all were scouring their sources and resources in an effort to prepare for possible troubles.
They unearthed no news of any value—not even a concrete indication that Shai Khe had been anything less than his own agent. They found only the faintest wisp of a rumor from the nethermost east about a cabal of which Shai Khe might have been a junior member. But that was only hearsay of a rumor of hearsay.
Chaz figured that in Caracene they had the next best thing to a primary source. "Press her," he told Rider, in private. "She knows a lot that she isn't telling."
Rider raised an eyebrow. It was an expressive querying gesture. Chaz reddened slightly. He had been paying elaborate public court to Caracene. And she seemed pleased by his attention.
"Not yet," Rider replied. "We're not under the sword. She has been a slave—and more. She needs time to rediscover the meaning and bounds of her freedom. She has to determine for herself if she has a moral obligation to speak or to remain silent. With Shai Khe gone, and with his hold upon her charred and sunken beneath the Bridge, I can see no reason to doubt that she will come around. It will have far more meaning when it comes from the heart. Exercise your famous barbarian patience. Take her out on the town. Take her to the Little Circus. General Procopio is giving three days of games to celebrate his part in our success."
There had been some grumpiness over Procopio's having claimed so much. Rider, though, was pleased because the old officer was diverting attention from himself and his men.
"Take her out and buy her a western-style wardrobe. I do not know women well, but never heard of one whose morale could not be improved by a shopping spree. Especially when someone else is picking up the cost."
Chaz grumped, "I think she looks just fine wearing what she has."
"You would. Most of the time she's half-naked. But she can't wander the streets like that."
Chaz grumped some more, mostly because he had fixed notions of the way women shopped. He did not look forward to squiring Caracene around the courtiers of the City. But he went out and collected her.