D & D - Red Sands (16 page)

"Only two? I thought three was the customary number," said Marix. Kaurous exhaled lire from his nostrils.

"HAD YOU COME A THOUSAND YEARS AGO, I MIGHT HAVE GRANTED THREE. A THOUSAND YEARS HENCE, YOU WOULD GET BUT ONE."

Tamakh nudged Marix and said humbly, "Thank you, Mighty One. We are deeply grateful."

"AS YOU SHOULD BE. WELL, MAKE HASTE WITH YOUR PUNY REQUESTS. MY SUBJECTS AWAIT ME."

Nabul sat up. "1 want—" Uramettu clapped a hand over his mouth.

"This calls for discretion," said Jadira. "My people have a saying: 'Ask an efreet for a knife, and you'll get it point first'."

"Why not wish for more wishes?" suggested Marix.

"No! Mortals do not bandy words with demigods! He would slay us all in the blink of an eye," interjected Tamakh.

"What do we need most?" asked Uramettu.

"The seal of Lydon," said Marix.

"No," Jadira answered. "The seal is safe enough hidden where it is. If we had it with us now, we would risk losing it before we reached Tantuffa."

"What then?" asked Marix.

"I AM WAITING, INSECTS."

"What arc the two most essential requirements for a dangerous journey?"

"Food," said Tamakh.

"Money," offered Nabul.

"Weapons," said Marix. Jadira nodded.

"Yes, food and weapons. That's what we'll ask for." She turned to the towering efreet and missed Nabul's disgusted grimace.

Tamakh caught Jadira's elbow. "Be careful how you ask," he said. "The efreeti love to trick mortals."

"O Great Kaurous," she began. "We five travel across the Red Sands to the sea. We ask two things to make our journey easier."

"DO YOU DESIRE A FLYING CONVEYANCE?"

Jadira looked startled. "I hadn't thought of that."

Tamakh shook his head frantically. "No, no, keep it simple."

"Of course. O Kaurous: provide us with a provision bag that is easily carried, yet can never be emptied of food."

"IT IS DONE."

A pannier of red leather appeared at Jadira's feet. Marix picked it up and looked inside. "Bread, dates, olives, and honey," he said.

"Dump it out," advised Tamakh. Marix poured the food on the floor. The bag refilled instantly.

"All right. Next, we want a weapon that slays at a distance and never misses—"

"Sized for a mortal," inserted Tamakh.

"—and which is sized for a mortal," Jadira added.

A bow of dark wood, inlaid with ivory and silver, materialized in Marix's hands. A quiver of black-fletched arrows appeared on his hip.

"THIS EFREET BOW WILL NEVER FAIL TO HIT AND WILL ALWAYS SLAY. NOW MY DEBT TO YOU IS DISCHARGED. I SHALL QUIT THIS CURSED PLACE."

"Prince of Efreeti, may I humbly beg one last indulgence from you?" asked Tamakh.

The enormous creature scratched his chin. His nails were like sabers, but then his hide was thicker than an elephant's. "WHAT INDULGENCE?" said Kautous.

The priest remembered Agma's warning and wanted to further it. "With your power to sec far beyond the horizon, can you tell us if we are being pursued?"

Kaurous inflated his massive crimson chest. "1 SEE WO SCORE AND TEN LITTLE BEETLES WITH BLOOD ON THEIR HANDS. THEY FOLLOW IN YOUR TRACKS LIKE GREEDY HOUNDS ON THE SCENT. WHERE EARTH AND SKY JOIN TOGETHER THEY HAVE REAPED A HARVEST."

"Why don't these powerful beings ever speak plainly?" complained Marix.

"Shhh!" hissed Jadira.

"Is there anything else you can tell us, O Great Kaurous?" Tamakh asked.

"HEAR THIS WISDOM, INSECTS: NEVER TRUST A CRUEL CAMEL SELLER OR A BAKER OF THIN

LOAVES, FOR ONE ABUSES HIS BEASTS AND THE OTHER ABUSES HIS YEASTS."

"Now he's telling us bad jokes," Marix muttered.

"Well, he hasn't heard any good ones in two thousand years," said Nabul.

"FAREWELL!"

The efreet ignited into a whirlwind of flame again and rose out of his pit. The whirlwind touched the peaked ceiling and bored ihrough, melting solid rock as if it were soft i heesc. Sparks and drops of liquid rock rained down, and the five took hasty shelter in an antechamber off the main vault.

Gradually the fierce red glow faded. In its place came a soft, steady light, shining down the wide shaft bored by Kaurous. Jadira stepped out into the cone of white light.

"The sun!" she said. "The storm is over!"

The Hand of the Sultan

Captain Fu'ad pouted a gourd full of water over his hot, dusty head. The coolness of the liquid trickling behind his ears refreshed him far more than drinking it would have.

The Invincibles had crossed the desert from Rehajid to Julli oasis—a journey half again as long as the route the fugitives had taken. Nine horses perished from the heat, and two lancers went off their heads. Now at Julli, Fu'ad encountered a stone wall. None of the nomads or caravaners would say anything about Marix and company.

Marad returned to his commander empty-handed. "No one will speak, my brother," he said. "The nomads regard the Sudiin woman as a sister, and neither gold nor threats will loosen their tongues."

"Then perhaps we should carry out our threats," said Fu'ad.

"I would not advise it, sir. These are proud people, and a harsh act against one will turn them all against us."

Fu'ad scowled. He wiped the slim blade of his scimitar with a clean cloth and returned it to its scabbard. "Are the men reprovisioned?" he said.

"The horses have been watered, and the Phoenix Troop is refilling its food and water bags."

"Very well. Hurry them along. The scum have an eight-day lead that we must overcome."

Fu'ad strapped on his sword belt and adjusted the drape of his surcoat. When all was in place, he set out on foot to cross the oasis from end to end. It could be that some clue to the destination of the fugitives was waiting to be discovered.

He found a tent set up among the pillars. A mixed line of people—nomads, Faziris, Zimorans, and others—waited to enter. Fu'ad accosted the rearmost man.

"Hail, fellow. What is in the tent that generates such a long line?"

"Have you not heard? This was the scene of a divine manifestation, not half a moonturn ago. A fire god of the East, Agma, saved a man from hanging."

Mention of the heretical sect brought Fu'ad's attention to sharp focus. "Agma, you say? I thought the sultan—may he live forever—had forbidden worship of that deity."

The stranger looked Fu'ad up and down. "Your pardon, Captain. Speaking for myself, I deplore superstition, but Julli lacks the diversions of a real town. I was curious to see the relic left behind by the, ah, false god."

"Relic, you say? I shall see about this."

Fu'ad cut to the head of the line. Two Aqiri guarded the flap of the tent. When they saw Fu'ad, they crossed their arms in a gesture of peace and let him enter unopposed.

A wooden trestle stood in the center of the small tent.

On it burned a brass brazier. In front of this votive fire lay the iron bar from which the Yali Mit'ai had tried to hang Nabul. The deep bend was still in it. An Aqiri deverman told Fu'ad how the rod came to be bent Fu'ad listened keenly.

"Who were the companions of this thief?" he finally asked. "Did you see them?"

"Oh, as closely as I see Your Mightiness. There was the holy man of stout figure. It was he who blessed us and promised—"

"And who else?" Fu'ad said sharply.

The Aqiri blinked and recalled to whom he spoke. "A foreign man with pale skin and hair. A very tall black woman who walked like a prowling cat. And a nomad woman. She was ma/am."

"Was this woman of the Sudiin?"

"Ai, yes; she was Sudiin of Sudiin."

"And where did these people go after the 'miracle'?"

"Who can say, my lord? Off to do the god's business."

Fu'ad grabbed the Aqiri by the throat and thrust the point of his dagger into the tight skin of the man's neck. A single drop of blood oozed out. The Aqiri gasped and went pale.

"Now harken to me, nomad; I want to know where the four who saved this thief went, and exactly how long ago, or I'll push this little blade into your throat up to the hilt." The dagger was a handspan long.

"S-s-sir! They returned to the Red Sands! N-north by west, they went. I swear!"

Fu'ad wiggled the tip of the dagger. "And how long ago?"

"S-six days, Merciful One. Six days!"

The dagger went back to its sheath. "For your most helpful cooperation, I will not trample this false shrine into the oasis grass; I have not the time to waste. But you, my unworthy friend, had best not be here when I return," Fu'ad said.

He strode outside. The line of hopefuls wanting to see Agma's sacred relic had vanished. Word of Fu'ad's identity had spread fast.

Marad trotted up. "My captain! The men are ready to depart."

"Very good, my brother. We leave at once."

"lo go where, sir?"

"Back into the desert. North by west."

The Invincibles loped across the high desert in two long lines. There was no need for outriders or pickets; visibility was to the horizon. Fu'ad could feel the sweat saturating the quilted tunic under his armor. Dampness spread down his chest and back until he squelched with each forward swing in the saddle.

Miserable place for a fighting man, the Red Sands. Too hot for armor, too hot for hard riding. The desert had an insatiable appetite for horses, too. So many fine animals died of heat and thirst. Fu'ad would have given up at Julli and ridden home, but the Eye of the Sultan would transmit his lack of resolve to the sorcerers in the pay of Emir Azrel, back in Omerabad. Professional disgrace was not the only penalty Fu'ad could suffer.

He scanned the far horizon. These wretched prisoners had cost him much sweat, much effort. They would pay for their troublesomeness. They would pay dearly.

"Aiyah!"
A shout from the right column. Fu'ad reined up.

"Who goes there?" he shouted. The air scalded his tongue and throat.

"Trooper Kedir, sir! I see men! On foot, sir!"

Marad rode to his captain. "It might be a mirage. I've seen odd things myself in the heat of the day."

"Kedir is a steady man," Fu'ad replied. "Let's see what the Red Sands have done to his eyes."

Fu'ad ordered the troopers to halt while he and Marad cantered to Kedir's position. The trooper was staring into the glare of the late sun.

"There they are, sir. I count eight in all."

"Eight? Doesn't sound like our quarry," Marad said.

Fu'ad looked and, sure enough, eight dark figures stumbled across the hard red soil toward them. The leading figure, spying the lancers sitting high on their horses, raised a cry.

"Have the column deploy. I want to net i hese wanderers," said Fu'ad calmly.

Marad put the signal trumpet to his lips and sounded two short blasts. The forty-two surviving Invincibles formed a circle and enveloped the men on foot. The strangers did not seem concerned; indeed, they rushed to meet the nearest horsemen.

One dirty, bearded fellow limped up to Fu'ad where he and Marad had remained by Kedir. The newcomer and his companions wore metal gorgets around their throats and black-banded, nut-colored headdresses.

"Hail, valiant soldiers!" he said in a hoarse voice. "The blessing of Mitaali upon you! We are saved!"

"You are found, at any rate," said Fu'ad dryly. "Who are you?"

"Zuram
gan
Dalifiya, most gratefully at your service, lord."

"You are a nomad?"

"Of the tribe Bershak, yes."

"What are you doing in this part of the desert, on foot and in such ohvious distress? I thought you people could live indefinitely on the Red Sands."

Zuram folded his hands and bowed. "The illustrious captain sees much. In truth, we were a party of eighteen out hunting when we were caught in a terrible sandstorm. Ten of my brothers and all of our mounts died, and we, we were at hope's end until you found us."

"Hunting? What could you possibly be hunting in this wasteland?" asked Marad.

"The wiliest game of all, lord—men."

Fu'ad and Marad exchanged guarded looks. Fu'ad unhooked a waterskin from his saddle. It fell to the ground. He said, "There, sonofDalif, drink. Drink and tell us who you were hunting."

The Bershak filled his cheeks to bursting and swallowed. "May you dwell forever in Paradise, noble captain! In eternal joy and—"

"Yes, yes, get on with it."

"As the captain desires. Some days ago, my brothers and I were in the oasis of Julli seeking employment with a caravan as guides. Many wanderers of the Red Sands were there, too: the Nuzi, the Draka, the Aqir—"

"Stay to the point!"

"Yes, sir. We could not find work, as so many were already there. So we lingered at the wells, hoping to hear some news to our advantage. We did. A youth from a distant land drank too much wine and told the Yali of the Aqir of a royal ornament they sought to recover."