Perilous Seas (25 page)

Azak
curled his bushy red mustache in a sneer. “Perhaps pixies are especially
susceptible.”

Again
Inos recoiled from the thought. Four young men bewitched unknowingly by her and
then executed by the sheik because of it? And now there was an even larger band
of men hastening up the valley to find her? No, no! Madness! Filthy madness! “You
mean I’m a sort of bitch in heat, summoning all the dogs in town?”

The
two men avoided her eye. Kade bit her lip and colored. The sheik sighed. “Well,
I shall report the event to my mistress and let her draw conclusions.
Meanwhile-” He peered up at the stars. “-it would be about the
second hour of the night, I think?”

“About,”
Azak agreed.

“Then
vie can be on our way. Lionslayer, I have summoned the mounts. Go and strip off
their harnesses; we shall give them their freedom. And bring me the saddlebags
from my pony.”

Azak’s
jaw snapped closed. “To hear my lord is to obey!” He accompanied
the words with a glare of hatred. Scrambling to his feet, evidently now cured
of his paralysis, he marched off into the dark. As he went, he adjusted the
hang of his scimitar, perhaps dreaming of what he would like to do to a
merchant who treated him as a flunky.

“Your
Highness,” Elkarath said, “is there anything in your baggage that
you wish to retain? We can take little with us, but any special things?”

“Oh!
“ Kade glanced in the direction of the little windbreak that Azak had
built. “Well, my breviary . . .”

“Then
perhaps you would fetch that now, ma’am? Here!”

Elkarath
gestured, and then held out to Kade a large ball of bluish light.

Kade
said, “Oh!” again. “Take it. It is not hot.”

Kade
rose stiffly. She took the globe uncertainly in both hands. Holding it well
away from her, she plodded off through the long grass.

Inos
poured a small amount of wine into her goblet, and sipped it while she waited
to see whether she was to be given secrets or a scolding.

For
several minutes, though, the old man merely toyed with his bejeweled fingers,
seeming to study the sparkles as he moved them in the firelight.

At
length he said, “I do not speak as a mage now. Nor as a votary of the
sultana, although I could not speak at all if I thought my words would hurt her
interests. I speak only as a very old man to a very young woman. I seek no good
but yours, Queen Inosolan. Can you accept, just for a few minutes, that
sometimes the elderly do indeed possess wisdom?”

“I
shall try, sir,” Inos said with Kinvale sweetness. It was to be a
scolding, obviously.

“That
is all I ask. Listen carefully, then. I am very old. Much older than you
perhaps suspect. If I tallied up my years ... well, just say that I have spent
as many of them, in total, in desert lands as you have been upon this earth. At
least. And there is something in the desert that breaks away the husks from
people. Desert light is very strong, very revealing.”

Inos
said nothing and he did not look up to appreciate her carefully crafted smile
of interest.

“And
I have spent many more years-in total-in Ullacarn, and Angot, and other
outposts of the Impire. I probably understand the imps and their ways better
than any other man in Arakkaran; or any woman either. I realize that you are
not one of his Imperial Majesty’s subjects, but your background and the
ways in which you were raised are closer to those of an imp than they are to
anyone else’s. Is this not so, my dear?”

“Of
course, Greatness.”

He
sighed. “And I say that he is not for you. Oh, he is besotted with you,
and you may think you are in love with him. No, hear me out, child! He is a
fine man, in his way. He is a perfect sultan for Arakkaran, unless he survives
long enough to become bored with accomplishment. Then he will wade the red path
of war. They always do, his kind. Fortunately for us humbler folk, sultans
rarely live that long. Physically, of course, he is unmatched ...”

“And
what he is to my mistress I do not even begin to understand. The purposes of
sorcerers are cryptic and obscure. She has come by strange ways to her power.
She seeks to punish men long dead, I fear.” He sighed again and reached
for his goblet.

Inos
waited politely. There was more lecture to come.

“If
he would only compromise. . . “ Elkarath droned. “Bow the knee just
once! Say the words she wants to hear! I think she then would gladly be to him
whatever he wanted: lover, mother helper. . . “

“She
would see through his lies at once,” Inos muttered, disgusted.

“Perhaps,”
the old man said softly. “But he would have said them! And I think she
might then be content. I expect a sorceress can deliberately deceive herself,
just as any of us can. We all believe what we want to believe, not questioning,
lest we lift scabs from unhealed wounds. We all seek happiness. Who knows what
she seeks-now, after such a lifetime? Might not one kind word won be counted a
triumph? “

He
drank and the goblet faded from his hand. Then he raised his face to peer at
the stars, or perhaps the restless treetops, and she had a clear view of his
blood-red eyes and the haggard folds of his neck.

“But
even without the dangers from Sultana Rasha, child, I tell you that you are
making a grievous error. Even if the two of you flee to your kingdom at the far
end of the world, you shall not find happiness with Azak ak’Azakar. Yes,
he has promised. I am sure he has promised. He lusts after you and cannot have
you, so he will persuade himself of anything. Yet many a good marriage has
sprung from that seed! No, it is his background that is wrong. He loves you?
Meaning he wishes to possess you and breed sons with you, and, yes, I suppose
he wishes to make you happy. But he is not capable of making you happy, no
matter how sincere he is.”

“I
entirely agree.”

“I
am serious, child.”

“So
am I, Greatness. Perhaps my Imperial ways have deceived you, and I do fear they
may have misled His Majesty. It is not unknown within the Impire for men and
women to be merely friends. “

“When
I told you that he had not been killed by the pixies-”

“I
was delighted, yes. Naturally! Azak and I have much in common, from our royal
birth to our problems with sorcery. It is natural that we should find grounds
for friendship. I admire him, enjoy his company, appreciate his invaluable
help. On my side, at least, there is nothing more. “ So there!

The
mage studied her sadly, in the longest straight gaze he had ever given her,
firelight chasing odd shadows over the desert landscape of his face. Then he
sighed deeply and looked away.

“There
may be more than you think already,” he said. “And how long can you
resist his wooing? To be sought after by a man of his power and presence-it is
very flattering. “

“Very!”
Inos said through clenched teeth. First Kade, now him! Could the old never
learn to trust the young? “But Sultan Azak is my friend and political
ally. Nothing more.”

The
mage sighed again, and looked away. An elderly djinn ...

Silly
old man.

Azak
emerged from the darkness holding a bulky leather bag. “Ah!” The
old man sprang to his feet with youthful agility. “The newcomers are
advancing very rapidly. We must depart before they draw any closer. Now, let me
see . . .”

He
fumbled with the bag’s fastenings and then pulled out a bundle that
glittered like cloth of gold. He turned to study the ground nearby and wandered
off with his head bent as if in search of something. Azak tossed away the bag
and folded his arms. He scowled after the sheik, ignoring Inos.

Kade
came stumping wearily back across the meadow, still holding the blue light.
Inos walked over to meet her, and they exchanged worried smiles. Kade put the
light down on the grass as carefully as if it were fine crystal. She
straightened and took her niece’s hand. Her fingers trembled slightly. Or
maybe that was Inos herself.

“This
seems flat enough here,” Elkarath announced from the far limits of the
firelight. “And that way is north.”

He
shook out a cloth, which flashed and gleamed, and spread surprisingly large. It
floated to the ground, then seemed to wriggle and squirm of its own accord,
until it was lying flatcompletely flat, although it was obviously extremely
thin.

Almost
dragging her aunt, Inos hurried over.

“I’ve
seen this before! Rasha called it a welcome mat.” Inos also recalled that
the mat had been dangerously hypnotic in the palace. Here in the starlit dark
of the forest it lay like black water, displaying faint shimmers of light that
seemed to come from deep within it, as from goldfish moving in a shadowed pond.
She tried not to look at it.

“Indeed?”
The old man beamed briefly. He seemed to be reveling in some secret
anticipation, like a child expecting a treat. “It is a magic carpet. Her
Majesty gave it to me for just such an emergency as this. It may be the very
one you saw.”

Avoiding
Inos, Azak paced over to the edge of the mat and glared down at it.

Elkarath
studied the sky again for a moment. “Yes, that is north ... To make
return journeys, of course, one needs three of them. We have only two; but then
we do not plan to return to Thume, do we?” He chuckled and rubbed his
hands.

Then
he glanced thoughtfully downriver.

“Where
is the other, then?” Inos asked, feeling prickles of apprehension. She
tried to catch Azak’s eye, but he was watching the sheik.

“If
Skarash did as he was told, it is now laid out in my house in Ullacarn. If he
didn’t ... then we may shortly be in some difficulty. Ready?”

“What
do we have to do?” she asked, feeling Kade’s grip tighten.

“Just
stand together on the carpet. I shall come on last, as it is prespelled to my
person.”

“And
then?” Azak growled, fingering the hilt of his scimitar. “Then it
will position itself upon the one in Ullacarn. That is how they work. “

Azak
was suspicious. “You told me you dared not use much power near Ullacarn,
yet now you work a major sorcery like this? “

“Be
silent!” the mage said sharply. “Silence beseems the ignorant. The
whole point of magical devices is that they are much harder to detect than
brute power. Now-must I coerce you?”

Azak
shrugged and took two long strides, which put him in the center of the mat, but
it did not flex or dimple under his weight. Inos glanced at her aunt, and they
advanced gingerly together, holding hands. The surface felt rigid, and rather
slippery.

“There!”
Elkarath said. “I suggest you stoop a little, Lionslayer-the ceiling may
be a trifle low. Right! Now me.”

He
took two fast steps onto the mat, causing it to twist, and lurch. Kade cried
out, and Inos steadied her. Then they found their balance again, blinking in
the sudden brightness of lamps hung on crumbling plaster walls.

Azak
cautiously raised his head and scowled at the sloping rafters just above him.
Street noises of hooves and voices and wheels drifted in from the dark beyond
the open window. The scent of grass and trees was replaced by smells of candles
and spices and old cooking.

“Welcome
to Ullacarn,” said Elkarath.

Life
and death:

O
to dream, O to awake and wander

There,
and with delight to take and render,

Through
the trance of silence,

Quiet
breath;

Lo!
for there, among the flowers and grasses,

Only
the mightier movement sounds and passes;

Only
winds and river,

Life
and death.

Stevenson,
In the Highlands

The Splendour Falls

Befuddled
with exhaustion, Rap stared blankly at a hole in a cliff. The night was bright
with stars, and the air pleasantly cool on his skin, but for a while he did not
understand what he was doing. Then he remembered the last part: darkness and
picking his way through the tangled and shattered rocks with his farsight. His
feet were slashed bloody, his ankles and knees swollen like dropsy, even his
arms all gashed and bruised. In the foggy nightmare that was what he recalled
of the journey, he could vaguely remember carrying Gathmor for an hour or two,
but now he was alone, and at the end of his powers. His companions were long
lost behind him, their mundane strength broken by efforts to obey a sorcereus
command.

The
gnome boy had vanished, last seen still skipping as freshly as ever. So this
cave must be Rap’s destination. It was perfectly circular, bored by
sorcery through draperies of black rock where a cliff had been melted. Dragons
had been at work here, obviously, and his farsight was blocked; which likely
meant that he was close to a sorcerer’s lair. But it could be anything’s
lair-leopards or bears might lurk inside.

For
a moment he leaned wearily against the rock. He ought to be terrified. He ought
to be fighting the compulsion that he could feel growing in him again. Perhaps
he was merely too exhausted to think straight, and yet some strange inner hunch
was telling him that the summoning had been a good thing, an opportunity-that
fortune was favoring him by bringing him here. That crazy illusion must be part
of the summoning itself. Unable to resist longer, he dropped to hands and knees
and crawled into the pipe. The wind blowing through it was cool with the chill
of ancient stone and long-forgotten caverns. The barrier was thicker than any
mundane castle wall, but he emerged eventually into a deep crevice, open to the
stars. Rugged rocky walls towered up on either hand, close enough that he could
touch them. The floor was smooth and level, but speckled with unpleasantly
sharp pebbles. Here and there giant blocks had fallen from the peaks and jammed
in the gorge to make archways; any smaller debris must have been removed. He
hobbled along, following its turns and twists into the mountain for ten or
fifteen minutes, recognizing that this cryptic entrance had been designed to be
dragonproof; he could guess at its immense antiquity. Finally the furrow was
blocked by a wall of rough masonry. Faint, spectral light spilled out through a
kennel-size door.