The Centaur (28 page)

“Are you becoming philosophical in your old age?” Omar placed the binoculars carefully in the case hanging from his saddle. Such things were rapidly becoming relics of a bygone age. “What was grandmother talking to you about?”

“Oh, nothing much. She invited me to dinner.”

“Did she invite you to dinner or
for dinner
?”

Luke turned his horse and they rode slowly back toward the camps.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you do. Let me warn you, my uncle, I have seen her in action. She may be a great, great, great grandmother, but she doesn’t let that bother her. She has always been interested in mankind, but her interest usually leads to desperation and untimely death or so I’ve heard.”

“You are forgetting one thing, my nephew.” Luke raised his chin slightly.

“Oh? And what is that, my uncle?”

“I am not a mere mortal man, and I am my father’s son.”

“Exactly. You would do better to look for a nice plump woman with good teeth.”

“Good teeth.” Luke nodded absently and then frowned. “You think the same thing she does, don’t you?”

“I don’t think anything about anything. I am simply warning you to beware. The company of women is a dangerous thing.”

“And I say there have been far more memorable kings than queens!” Luke told him angrily and kicked his horse, leaving Omar to ride in by himself.

Omar halted his horse before reaching the first of the colorful pavilions set up by his father. There were cook tents, eating and drinking tents, sleeping tents and private tents for private business. Elves were everywhere, cooking, laughing, talking singing, practicing with their bows, arrows and lances. Some were swinging in hammocks, sleeping, while others wrestled and chases each other about, in and out of the open air tents, around the numerous cook fires like children at a country fair or festival. It was impossible to believe only a few miles away, lay the ruins of one of the oldest cities in the world. Already, grass was growing on the plain and flowers were blooming where the elves played. Bees and butterflies worked the flowers as fat brown cows grazed on the grass. It seemed the elves could make much ado of
nothing in a very short time. If he could have turned his attention from mankind to elves, his problems could have been solved in short order.

The Prophet’s spirits rose considerably as he listened to the singing and the laughter of many voices. Away to the south he could see the brown and green pennants of the elven King’s command tent flying next to the purple white pennants of his father’s tent. To the northwest he could make out the black and red flags of Ereshkigal’s temporary abode and to the north lay the gold and white streamers denoting his grandmother’s encampment. Her army was not vast, but it was impressive though neither Luke, nor Omar could say what people made up the ranks. Luke Andrew and his horse had already disappeared in that general direction. Closer at hand were white tents and above them the white banner with the Red Cross emblazoned on it. His father’s Templars could be seen sitting or reclining about the grassy meadow engaged in honing their swords, drinking, eating and generally having a good time, it seemed, watching the activities of the elves around them. Omar had no intention of following Luke into folly and turned his horse toward his father’s flags.

Omar found Ereshkigal, Lemarik and Il Dolce Mio in a heated debate under the awning of the purple and white tent in which he and Luke stayed with the Mighty Djinni. His father wore the sparkling armor of which he was so fond and held his elaborate helmet under his arm. He stood toe to toe with the dark Queen as they argued about the need to continue the siege. The elf King sat in the middle of a long table with his chin in his hand, listening intently to the debate. Another elf with long curly hair sat next to the king.

Lemarik caught sight of Omar approaching and broke off the argument by holding up one hand.  He smiled and swayed toward him.

“Omar, my beautiful son!” The Djinni stopped in front of him and shook his head sadly. “The
good
Queen is giving me a headache. Please come and explain to her the need for continued harassment of the city. She is impatient and rude. I cannot imagine why my father would have put up with her for more than a day. I would take her head, encase it crystal and be done with it.”

“If you were not Adar’s son, I would show you a thing or two, Adalune. Out of respect for your father and your mother, I will excuse your impudence,” the Queen said magnanimously as she joined them as Omar dismounted. “It is always a pleasure to see you, Omar.” She bowed her head slightly and then held out her hand for him to kiss. “Perhaps you can talk some sense into your father. My
boggans are growing tired of the pace set by this… this… siege! We are ready to overrun the walls and drag the evil sow out of her den. Such animals must be treated with swift and powerful action. If we allow her enough time, she may summon more dark powers to her aid and we will find ourselves outnumbered. Look at these little ones, your Excellency. Surely you do not wish to endanger these gentle creatures?” She smiled a smile that made him shiver. He, too, wondered ,how his grandfather had put up with her, but her appeal to him on behalf of the elves whether sincerely or selfishly motivated, carried a certain note of validity.

“It is a pleasure to see you again as well,” Omar steeled himself and kissed the back of her hand. He wondered if she thought he had forgotten a certain incident in which she and her husband, Nergal, had suspended himself and Luke Andrew over a foul pit in the Fifth Gate. “Father.” He nodded to his father, and then sat on the edge of the table where Il Dolce Mio now stood looking at him expectantly. “I have been observing the damage inflicted on the city walls by the good Queen’s army and it appears she may be right. Considering also the number of civilians and military components that have left the city, it would be easy to imagine very little resistance could be left within the walls. I would say the Queen Mother’s palace has been reduced to rubble, and it is doubtful she has retained any of her palace guards. My daughter tells me most of the palace guard, the city fire and police brigades have already abandoned the city. Only the extremely foolish would have stayed behind or perhaps those who are in direct contact with the Queen Mother. The dark angel has not been seen since my grandfather left us and we will assume he continues to be successful in his endeavors; however, it is impossible to know what might happen to him if she learns of his treachery.”

“I do not trust him, my Royal Nephew,” Il Dolce Mio said as he stepped down on the bench beside the table and held out his hand to his companion. Omar glanced at the elf with his Royal Uncle and drew a sharp breath. The elf was unlike the remainder of the King’s company in that this one was definitely female. She had large dark eyes and curly hair, rather than straight. She was a bit darker than the King and slightly taller. “I cannot understand why my father, the King, would trust such a one as this Destroyer, this Lord of Scorpions. He is nothing but treachery incarnate, serving first one master and then another as the whims of his fancy turn hither and thither.”

“Your father, the King, is owed many favors by many creatures,” Omar shrugged. “It is possible he simply called in a favor.”

“That may be so, but I would rather trust a cobra than that one.”

Il Dolce Mio leaped lightly to the ground and several blue and red flower petals fell from his long, dark hair. The silver ornaments jingled and for a moment it was very easy to see who his father was. His companion also dropped silently to the ground beside him and brushed back her hair. She wore a braided yellow flower wreath in her hair and a gossamer gown of brown, yellow and green. Gold shimmered under her dark eyebrows, across her lips and on her rosy cheeks. “I would have to agree with the Queen.” Il Dolce Mio nodded slightly to Ereshkigal, pleasing her immensely. “I believe we should strike while we still have the advantage. My spies tell me things are not healthy away to the south. We cannot expect reinforcements any time soon. The great waters have swallowed a vast landscape and killed many things. We are fortunate it did not reach us even here.”

Omar’s attention was on the face of the female elf. She was very familiar to him and yet not.

“I am honored the King finds agreement with my assessment.” Ereshkigal folded her arms across her breasts and looked down her nose at the Djinni.

“I am sorely disappointed in my Royal Brother,” Lemarik commented sourly and turned one dark eye on the elf. “And your mistrust of our father saddens me.”

“I did not say I mistrust our father, my brother.” Il Dolce Mio frowned fiercely. “I said I mistrust this Lord of Darkness. If our father has made some bargain with the thief, then, I will have to assume he knew what he was doing. Unfortunately, that does not mean we knew what he is doing, and that makes me feel a bit nervous. I have seen the powers of the Scorpion Lord in the past and have lost many good men and women to his evil. I do not wish to repeat such a thing here.”

“And so you will lose none of your people, your Highness,” the dark Queen assured him. “I am off to present my petition for action to Queen Semiramis. If she is in agreement and Lord Lucifer is willing, we will advance into the city at first light in the morning.”

Lemarik rolled his eyes and placed his helmet on his head.

“In that case I will accompany you to see my mother,” the Djinni emphasized the words ‘my mother’ just to remind the dark Queen that Semiramis was indeed his mother and more likely to side with her son.

“Father.” Omar jerked his head around quickly. “It would not be wise to interrupt Grandmother just now. I only left her less than an hour ago and she was off to make some very delicate investigations.”

“Oh? What sort of investigations?” Ereshkigal stopped in her tracks. She had already had two close encounters with the unpredictable goddess. She did not want to push her luck.

“I believe they had something to do with Sir Ramsay’s past liaisons. She might learn something new if we give her a bit of time.” Omar evaded the question nicely. “In fact, I believe that she may be questioning someone who knows a great deal about the Scorpion Lord.”

“A prisoner?” Lemarik’s curiosity was now piqued. “Have we taken someone of note? One of the commanders perhaps?”

“No. Nothing like that. Trust me. She doesn’t want to be bothered at the moment,” Omar told them and turned his attention to the elven King. “And now tell me, Royal Uncle, who is this lovely creature at your side?”

The King’s face lit up and he took the female elf’s hand, presenting her to the Prophet.

“May I present
Grelupolodam, a dear friend of mine.”

The lady elf nodded her head gracefully and Omar took her delicate hand, kissing the back of it.

“You may call her Polly for ease of pronunciation,” Il Dolce Mio added and resumed control of the hand. “She is here as a guest of Vannistephetti.”

“An honor to meet you,” Omar smiled at her.

“I have heard many things about you, sir,” she told him. “My father is quite full of tales and history.”

“I hope your father has been kind to me.” Omar’s face darkened with slight embarrassment. There were a number of ways to interpret this revelation.

“Oh, he is most kind and an accomplished story teller. He knows many words.” Her face glowed with undeniable pride.

“Then he is doubly blessed. A kind heart and a beautiful daughter. A man… or elf could ask no more.”

“That is exactly true.” Il Dolce Mio seemed a bit put out by Omar’s interest in his companion. “If we are going to put aside our visit to the Queen, then I suggest we join my soldiers at the games. There will be much dancing and drinking tonight. You are all welcome to join us.”

Lemarik removed his helmet again and his scowling visage changed immediately.

“That it is a most gracious invitation, my Royal Brother,” the Djinni perked up. “Would you know if the lovely Gwragedd Annwn might be in attendance?”

Il Dolce Mio hooked his arm through Polly’s arm and started off toward the new meadow.

“I believe I saw at least four of them last night,” he answered over his shoulder.

“Four?” Lemarik dropped his silver helmet on the ground and hurried after the elf king. “Did you say four?”

“I think so, yes.”

Lemarik turned around and waved frantically to Omar.

“Come, come, my beautiful son! Four Gwragedd Annwn are much too formidable for even the Mighty Djinni.”

Chapter
Ten of Seventeen

There is one come out of thee, that
imagineth evil

against the Lord, a wicked
counseller

Mark Andrew picked his way quietly through the rubble of Omar’s palace. The entire place was dark and treacherous. Wires, pipes and steel reinforcement rods drooped from the ruined foundation above the darkness of the deeper passages.  Broken metal, glass and ceramic glittered in the remnants of the light filtering through the cracks and crevices above. He held out his hand and a blue light glowed in his palm momentarily before drifting into the air in front and slightly above him.

The cavernous garage below the palace was in total chaos. Trucks and armored vehicles were crushed under tons of concrete, marble and plaster. Puddles of gasoline and diesel added to the hazardous nature of his journey. The possibility of disastrous explosions only made the job more urgent in the fume-filled cavities, making it almost impossible to draw a clean breath. One spark and the whole place would go up… again. He made it past the wrecked vehicles to a more spacious passage that had survived the attacks with less severe damage. The underground portions of the palace had been built to withstand nuclear attacks and comet strikes, up to a degree, in the latter part of the twenty-first century. He could hear water running and the skittering of rats or other creatures in the recesses. Rats. He hated rats. The world would have been a much better place without them, and although he knew everything served its purpose as divinely reckoned, he’d never been able to understand the role of the rat.