Perilous Seas (49 page)

She
surged to her feet, hindered and unbalanced by the weight of lace. She
staggered, steadied, stared at the bashful little half smile, the ludicrous
raccoon tattoos, the unkempt tangle of brown hair soaked with sweat. No!
Impossible! He was dead! She swayed, the hall darkened. Again? The sun had not
set yet; wraiths did not haunt in daylight. She had gone mad. She was
hallucinating.

Then
the intruder leaned forward, swung his leg, and dropped to the floor at Evil’s
side. He staggered, steadying himself against the steaming, heaving black
flank. His clothes were filthy and soaked and blood-spattered. He was convulsed
by his efforts to breathe, pumping air in and out in harsh gasps as loud as
those of his horse. Sweat trickled down his face, and every few seconds he
would wipe it with a brawny bare forearm. Nevertheless he squared his shoulders
and straightened. He bowed unsteadily to Inos. His glance wandered between Azak
and Rasha a couple of times. He stretched his tattoos slightly at the sight of
Azak’s finery, then chose Rasha and bowed to her. And finally to Azak.

The
hall was filled with a silent, staring multitude, and still no one had spoken a
word. The loudest noise in the room was the intruder’s breathing.

“The
faun!” said Rasha. “How interesting.”

Again
Rap smiled faintly, his usual diffident little smile that ...

No!
No! No!

“That
faun is dead!” Inos shouted. “This is foul, cruel sorcery. Queen
Rasha? Is this your doing?”

The
green-shrouded sorceress shook her head, and Inos could not tell if that was
anger or amusement glinting in those ruby eyes. And Azak ... Inos quailed.
Never had she seen such fury. Veins bulged on a scarlet face. He quivered,
holding himself in by precarious power of will. The state wedding was a
shambles, pomp had become farce, and no sultan of Arakkaran had ever been so
shamed before his court.

“It
is sorcery,” Rasha said. “But not mine. Who are you?”

“I’m
Rap, ma’am.” He panted, then continued. “There are some
wounded men out there. I may even have killed a couple. I hope I didn’t-”

“Leave
them!” Azak roared. “It will be a kindness.” Rasha shrugged.
The petrified guards at the door thawed back to life. Seeing the orderly
discussion in progress at the dais, they began shamedly sheathing their swords
and stooped to tend their wounded.

The
audience seemed to shimmer in doubt and uncertainty. Then chairs scraped and
clattered as the guests resumed their seats.

“Rap
is dead!” Inos shouted ... screamed? “You can’t be Rap!”

He
smiled up at her wistfully, then patted the mighty foamspattered shoulder
beside him. “Master-of-horse and sergeantat-arms both?”

Oh,
Gods! Inos felt her knees start to buckle, and then Kade was at her side,
holding her. Oh, blessed Kade! She clung tight. Rap? Not dead? Really Rap?

Idiot
Rap! Maniac Rap! He’d fallen into the power of some sorcerer, and was
being used to disrupt Azak’s wedding, and, and ... Except that this whole
monstrous disaster had a horribly Rappian sort of feel to it. Just the sort of
thing ...

“Whose
work is this?” Azak asked hoarsely, of Rasha. She shrugged again. “Speak,
boy.”

Rap
was gazing witlessly at Inos. “Are you married?” he asked in a very
small voice.

“Yes,”
she said. “No. I mean-”

“Oh.”

Was
that all he could say? Returning from the dead? Disrupting a solemn occasion of
state? Turning her whole world upside- Oh, that was nonsense! It couldn’t
be Rap. Not the same Rap. Not all the way from Krasnegar in less than half a
year.

Azak
reached for his scimitar, but Rasha held out a hand, warning him not to draw.

Rap
licked his lips. “I bring a message to Queen Inosolan.”

“From
whom?” Azak roared.

“From
... from ... I don’t seem able to be answer that, your Majesty.”

A
handsbreadth of blade emerged before Azak was again stopped by Rasha. “He’s
been blocked, but it’s very shallow. There ...”

“Thank
you!” Rap said politely. “From Warlock Lith’rian, your
Majesty. Majesties.”

Azak
hissed in surprise.

“Let
us hear this message, then,” Rasha said.

Why
was she so poised? Her eyes were gleaming, but her fingers were relaxed, and
there was no air of anger or alarm. Her calm was astonishing. She was behaving
like . . . like Kade, or someone.

Inos
hugged Kade a little tighter, and felt the hug returned. She could not take her
eyes off Rap. Her cheeks felt wet and she had no idea what her face looked
like, so it was fortunate that no one could see it anyway. Except Rasha, of
course.

And
Rap. Oh, damn!

He
was deeper, broader than he had been. And more confident. Manly. Not big like
Azak, or a jotunn, but bigger than an imp. Or a pixie. Why did she think of
pixies? Ugly flat noses? Rap on a white horse in her dream. When had she
dreamed that? Several times, maybe.

“His
Omnipotence said I should come and tell Queen Inos-”

“Silence!”
Azak drew his sword all the way.

“Put
that back,” Rasha said brusquely. “If you go against the faun, he’ll
cut you to confetti. In fact . . .”

Azak’s
scimitar vanished, and Rap’s sword, and Kar’s, also. The whole hall
was disarmed then, for the wedding guests bore no weapons. The horse shivered
into motion, clattering around and heading for the door, where the platoon of
the family men fidgeted in baffled rage-and likely in fear, knowing that Azak’s
vengeance would be bloody. They parted to let Evil leave. In a moment the doors
closed as the last of the shamed and discredited guards followed the horse out.

By
now the ceremony should have been long over, the guests on their way to the
wedding feast. The light from the high windows was fading, and blushing,
spreading blood on the vaults and pillars. Shadows drifted in like vultures
coming to a massacre.

The
departure of the horse left Rap looking small and lonely. He stood on the
floor; the others were all on the dais, two steps up.

“Better,”
Rasha said.

“He
wants a good rubdown,” Rap agreed, folding his arms as if relieved of a
worry.

“I
meant ... Well, speak up, Master Rap. The message?”

“That
message will be delivered in private! “ Azak snapped. “And messages
to my wife come to me first. “

Rap
stretched his tattoos again at that and looked quizzically up at Inos. “Are
you truly married, your Majesty, and did you do this of your own free will?”

Her
mouth was full of sand. “Yes. And yes.” Of course her choices had
been limited, but she would not admit that now. A stableboy would not
understand politics, of course. All Rap would see in Azak at the moment would
be glittering riches. And big male animal.

What
Rap thought did not matter at all.

Azak
growled in fury. He took two strides back to the middle of the dais, snatched
up the gold chain where it had fallen, and stamped over to Inos. She bowed her
head in acceptance and he dropped the necklace over it. Then he marched back to
the edge of the platform. “She is certainly married now, and if you
address one more word to her, I will have you broken on the wheel. “

Rap
pursed his lips and shrugged. He had almost stopped panting and he seemed to be
accepting the situation, accepting that he had arrived too late.

Too
late for what?

“The
warlock’s message?” Rasha said calmly.

“He
told me to tell Queen Inosolan to ... to trust in love.” Inos recoiled as
if she had been struck, and again Kade’s arms steadied her. She pushed
them away angrily. How dare he burst into her wedding like this! How dare he
throw such vicious slurs! Yes, she had kissed him when they were children
together; now he had turned her wedding into a circus and a bloodbath, and he
wanted to lecture her about love?

Recklessly
she threw up her veil and turned to face Azak, fearing she might be as pale as
the lace enshrouding her. For her he had groveled before the hateful sorceress.
Why else, if not for love?

“I
have always trusted in love,” she declared loudly. “And I still do.”

He
nodded in grudging satisfaction. “So the message was unnecessary, and we
may now deal with the messenger. “ Oh, Rap! Idiot Rap!

“Gutturaz!”
Azak said loudly. “Lead our honored guests to the feast. And send in the
guards. “

The
big prince rose and bowed. Chairs scraped again as the congregation rose.

“I
am staying!” Inos said firmly.

Azak
glared, but did not overrule her. Gutturaz hesitated, for the rehearsals had
not covered these events. Improvising, he gestured respectfully for the iman to
precede him, then held out an arm for Kade. She shook her head, staying close
to Inos. Pouting, the fat man beckoned the trainbearers to follow him and
strutted off down the steps. Rap stepped aside and watched the dignitaries file
past, heading along the aisle behind the tottering cleric. Front-row princes
began streaming after. Only the soft-smiling Kar remained on the platform, and
Azak, and the three women.

“Azak,
my . . .” Inos stopped, and tried again. “My lord, this man is a
very-”

Azak
shot her a glare of disbelief and turned away.

“Wait,
though,” Rasha said. Her voice was soft, yet it came clearly over the
noise of shuffling feet. “He may not have been entirely a free agent,
your Majesty. I detected a trace of a compulsion there.”

“I
don’t care if he doesn’t know his ears-”

“Hold!
I think there is another message, my dear.”

My
dear? How dare she! How dare she claim that throne, give orders to the sultan,
set herself up as tyrant, and especially dare talk to Azak like that!

Azak
frowned. “Lith’rian?”

Rasha
nodded, studying Rap, who had flinched at the word “compulsion” and
was now glancing uneasily from face to face as if he had only just realized his
danger. Had he truly expected Azak to let him live, after this?

The
swift tropical sunset was over. People, faces, chairs, even the Great Hall
itself, all were fading away into shadow. Yet there was no doubt that Rasha was
pleased about somethingexultant, even. Rubbing her hands, she advanced down the
steps toward Rap, who backed away a pace and then stopped, staring at her
apprehensively.

Apprehension
became horror. “No!”

“Yes,”
said Rasha. She chuckled. “I think Warlock Lith’rian was sending me
a message also. Or a gift! “

“This
is not the time or the place!” Azak spoke as if he were leading his army
in cavalry drill.

“It
is the only time and place, my dear.” Rasha did not look around. “I
was told once that this faun knew a word of power. Obviously that was an
understatement, or he has learned more words since. He is at least a mage, and
possibly a sorcerer.”

“Just
‘n adept,” Rap muttered. He was clearly worried now, the whites of
his eyes shining like moons amid the dark blotches of tattoo.

“You
would say that, of course.” The sorceress floated nearer, her deep-green
robes now turned to black in the gloom. “But we saw you at work. An adept
holding off the whole palace guard? Hardly! I have been an adept; I know what
is possible!”

The
hall was half empty now, the commoners starting to follow the princes. The
indistinct figures of the family men in their brown uniforms were slipping in
through a side door, and forming up.

“What
are you getting at?” Azak demanded sharply.

“Our
alliance, darling, remember? Our pact against Olybino. “

Inos
gasped.

It
was like shutting a finger in a door-blinding pain but also a deafening howl of
injustice; an internal voice screaming that the Gods should never allow such
things to happen. Was that what Azak had really wanted from the sorceress? Was
that why he had whored for her all the last week? What coin had he accepted for
his services-freedom from the curse so he could marry Inos, yes, but also an
occult alliance for the coming war against the Impire? Suddenly Inos saw
herself as part of a pack, age, something thrown in by a merchant to make a
sale of something else. A pretty ribboned basket hiding an unsavory purchase.
Azak, what did you promise? What were you really planning?

Betrayed!

Rap
was still protesting that he was only an adept.

“Perhaps
sorcerer is unlikely,” Rasha conceded. “Even warlocks have limits
on their generosity. But you are certainly too strong for a mere adept. A mage,
I judge.”

“He
is meant as a replacement for Elkarath?” Azak asked, stepping down from
the dais to join her. Imperceptibly Rap had been backing away, and Rasha
stalking him. The last guests were filtering out the big doorway beyond a
wasteland of empty chairs like the stumps of a ravaged forest.

“Perhaps.
Obviously the elf has turned against East, as I predicted. Olybino is a
failure, and elves despise incompetence. Also, I think this faun as been sent
to me as protection.”

“Protection?”
said Rap and Azak together.

Inos
took a step forward and Kade pulled her back. “No, dear! “ she
whispered.

She
was right, of course-to plead with Rasha on Rap’s behalf would be a
disastrous error. Rasha did not approve of women having tender feelings toward
men, any men.

“Protection!
East has threatened to bespell me. Lith’rian is suggesting a defense, you
see? This gift-faun is going to start making himself useful by telling me one
of his words.”

“No!”
Rap cried.

“Most
certainly.”

“Four
words is the limit!”

“Indeed?
If your words give you that sort of lore, then you are certainly a full
sorcerer. Else, who told you so?”

Rap
stuttered and said nothing.

“I
don’t believe in that limit!” Rasha said. “At least it is
worth a try, even if I gain nothing.”