Read Wizard's Funeral Online

Authors: Kim Hunter

Tags: #Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Fantasy, #Epic

Wizard's Funeral (19 page)

BOOK: Wizard's Funeral
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cut in the rock. As Soldier passed by one of these cave-houses and looked inside, he could see they were simple enough within one or two rooms carved out of the soft rock, meagrely furnished, often with a hearth in the centre - but their frontages were monuments to high art. Goats and dogs wandered around the entrances, devouring any rubbish which might attract rats, and children ran squealing and shouting between these beasts. In the middle of the valley stood a fort carved from solid, red sandstone, with towers that reached halfway up the cliffs and crenellated walls with lean, high arrowloops as the only source of natural light. Black-and-red banners flew from flagpoles on the towers. The entrance was a small semi-circular hole through which a man had to crawl. Soldier could see no other gateway or door into the place. Indeed, when they reached the fort, their escort forced them down onto their hands and knees, and they scrambled through the low opening to find themselves in a courtyard beyond. A warrior, clearly an officer, came to meet them. Whats this? New recruits, replied one of the escort. The five men then left them with the officer of the watch. Where are you from? they were asked. Golgath said, I deserted from the Imperial Guthrum Army. Hes from somewhere else . . . I thought he was, said the officer, interested, peering into Soldiers face. He has eyes the colour of sky. Are you from the sky, warrior? Do you come from a kingdom in the clouds? Yes, said Soldier. But Ive also served as an officer in the red pavilions. Garthagan Army, eh? Well, you have to earn a commission in the army of Caliphat-the-Strong. He looked up. Ive often wondered about men from the sky. Ive argued in the barrack room, about sky-warriors. Some deny they exist, but heres proof at last. He seemed very pleased with himself. Then he turned on Soldier again. Which cloud did you come from? Where are your wings? They fall off. If you spend too long down here they di^op from your shoulders like leaves from autumn trees. Ah, I can see that. Yes, they would, wouldnt they? Probably turn brown and wither. What a shame. That really would have clinched it, to see your wings. Never mind. Youve got the blue eyes. May we see your ruler? asked Soldier, becoming impatient with this fool. Oh, you dont need to do that. I say who can join and who cant. Ill assign you a barrack room . . . But, argued Soldier, we have news of the outside world. Surely the lord Caliphat would want to know whats going on out there? You tell me and Ill tell him. Hey! the officer yelled at a passing warrior. Heres one of them. Didnt I tell you they were real? Where there are flying lions, I said, there are flying men. Well, Ive got my proof at last. The warrior shook his head and kept on walking. Hes got blue eyes, yelled the officer of the watch. Eyes the colour of the sky. A dismissive wave of the warriors hand. He didnt even look back. At that moment a voice came, from high above. The voice had musical tones, as if it had once belonged to a songbird. It was too lyrical and sweet to come from an inanimate instrument, but it seemed to have the same range of notes owned by a harp. All three men looked up. There Soldier beheld the most beautiful face he had ever seen. It was on the end of a long and elegant neck which curved gracefully into some lily-white shoulders with delicate collarbones. Dark ringlets, webbed with gold threads, framed the pale face, with its ruby bow lips and perfect nose. Two dark and fathomless eyes regarded the three men. Who is from the sky? For a moment the officer of the watch did not answer. It seemed he was caught up in an internal storm. When he did reply it was with a croaky voice, full of emotion. My lady, this man. He has eyes of lapis lazuli. Indeed? May I speak with him? Bring him to my chambers. Once the face had gone from the window, the officer seemed to come out of a spell. He looked uncomfortable. I dare not disobey her, he said, more to himself than the other two, she will denounce me. Yet, if he catches me visiting her, I could lose my head. Curse the woman. Thats not a chivalrous way to talk of a lady, Soldier growled, still giddy with the beauty he had witnessed in the window. How can you talk of a lady in those tones. Oh, you dont know, replied the anguished officer. You dont know what she can do, simply by being who she is. Well, Ill have to take you up there now. Curse me and my big mouth. Why did I have to shout it? If he catches us ... By he Soldier and Golgath guessed he was talking of his ruler. They were first disarmed, and then they entered a tower within which was a spiral staircase. The arrowloops were few and far between, so it was a dim climb they took up to the womans chambers, stumbling all the way, passing other passageways off on the journey up. Soldier and Golgath had both, separately, guessed that the woman was Moona Swan-neck, and they could not believe their luck. They were going to make contact with the very woman they had come to rescue. Yet, there were troubling signs. Why was she so accessible? And why were there no locks on the doors? It did seem as if she was staying there voluntarily. They were ushered into a room at the top. There was a fragrance in the air which went straight to Soldiers head. He felt as if he were drunk on wine. Then a form shimmered into the room, the liquefaction of her clothes announcing her coming by their rippling sounds. She stood slim and straight before them. Her hips, her breasts - her shape was divinity itself, and matched the beauty of her heart-formed face. Her hands had obviously been doves during some former incarnation. Her feet were small and neat, set in golden sandals, with shapely toes the nails of which were painted with scenes of landscapes and seascapes, over which fabulous creatures were caught in flight. There were three men in the room, and every one of them wanted to enfold this wonderful example of splendid womanhood in their arms, possess her, protect her from all evil, kiss her sweet mouth, her cheeks, her brow. They wanted her to melt into them. They needed to hold her for ever, never let her touch stray to another mortal on the earth. They craved the sound of her voice whispering in their ears, the smell of the maddening perfume of her breath. They desired to make love to her with gentle caresses such as women had never known before. This is the sky-man? Yes, he has blue eyes, I can see. But how does that prove he is from the sky? He might be from the ocean. Or from some mountain lake. I yes - I think - my lady, you are right. Where is the proof? This man says hes from the sky, but he could be from anywhere. I am so gullible. I - am - I must yearn I mean, I must learn not to believe everything I hear ... I mean, where is my lord? The officer was trembling. Soldier could not tell whether this was because of the overwhelming loveliness before him, which indeed took away all breath, robbed a man of all other desires known - or whether it was the thought of being caught by his master which filled him with fear. Clearly the officer was so shaken he could hardly think straight, being in the presence of Moona Swan-neck, an earthly goddess, the closest thing Soldier had ever seen, to an angel. He found himself speaking to her. You, surely, my lady, are from the sky? Her tinkling laugh filled him with great pleasure, making him tingle right through to his very feet. He felt himself a great wit. He turned and grinned stupidly at his two companions, who both stared at him with blank expressions. No, Im not from the sky. What in thunder is going on? All three men whirled to find a thick-set, black-bearded man in chain-mail armour striding up behind them. His armoured feet were actually making a good deal of noise on the flagstones, but they had not heard the sounds. The bearded man had been followed into the room by five personal bodyguards. My lord! cried the officer in a frightened voice. I was ordered. You were what? You mincing fool. Get back to your post. Who are these gawking idiots? Recruits, stammered the officer, hurrying from Moonas chambers, anxious to be out of sight and mind. Deserters. Caliphat-the-Strong, for it was obviously he, then turned on the two men drooling over his concubine. What are you staring at? he cried. You, he rounded on Moona Swan-neck, go and cover yourself. I am covered, she said in quiet dignity. You yourself chose the clothes I am wearing this very morning. That was when they were for my eyes. I can see your breasts through that material. It is diaphanous for the purpose. Well, its disgusting in company. With her chin tilted in defiance, Moona left the room, leaving an ache behind her within the men. So, before you both die, cried Caliphat, what have you got to say for yourselves? Are you married? Are you betrothed? What would your wives think, both of you lusting after another mans woman? She is mine, and mine alone. Any man who even ... Galiphat had gone red and swollen about the jowls at this point, the horror and passion aroused by the thought of another man lying with Moona being almost too much for him to bear. They could both see he was insanely jealous and that nothing was going to save them from the sword, even though all they had been doing was admiring beauty. Soldier said as much. I protest, my lord. I have a wife I love dearly. I admit the beauty of Moona Swan-neck is enough to stun a man on first seeing her, but that cannot be helped? Cahphat drew his sword. He looked a strong man. His features were thick and cruel, his lips swollen with arrogance. This was a merciless potentate, standing before them, who thought less than nothing of killing a fellow human being. He was an ugly man, not through any disfigurement, but because his looks told the story of overindulgence, of unchecked power, of a wicked and lustful life. Married, are you? Well, well make a widow of your whore. Soldiers expression suddenly changed. He felt the wrath filling his breast. In calling Layana a whore Galiphat had pronounced his own death sentence. The fury that rose from within Soldier, an ancient hatred and bitterness that appeared as bile in his mouth, could not be checked. Vau, the dog-man, had been the recipient of that rage, and one or two others, and now Caliphat-the-Strong was about to receive. You foul-mouthed bastard, said Soldier. The sword-stroke whistled over his left shoulder, as he expertly ducked the blow that would have taken his head from his shoulders. In the same movement, Soldier snatched a stiletto dagger from Caliphats belt and plunged it into the belly of the big man, the thin, steel blade piercing through the chain-link armour. Caliphat gasped, his eyes bulging. The movement had been so swift and precise that the bodyguards had still not reacted. They had been caught completely by surprise. Caliphat staggered back, clutching his wound, the dagger still protruding from his stomach. His sword clattered to the floor. Golgath picked up the weapon and sliced through the shoulder of the nearest bodyguard, who was still staring at his master with puzzled eyes. Soldier picked up an onyx ornament from a side table and smashed it into the face of a second bodyguard. The man fell at his feet. Now the other guards were alert. Not having time to draw their swords, two of them sprang forwards and grasped Soldier, trying to wrestle him to the ground. Golgath battled with the fifth man, who, being at the rear, had managed to arm himself. Caliphat was on his knees, still clutching his stomach and moaning, crying for Moona to come and help him. He wrenched the stiletto from his belly, it being caught in the mesh of his chain-link armour, and blood gushed forth from the wound. Im bleeding to death! he screamed. The bodyguard whom Golgath had first struck staggered out through a doorway, onto the battlements. Soldier guessed he was going to summon assistance, but neither he nor Golgath could stop the man. However, Soldier managed to roll over so that he had only one man on top of him, and that man was hampered by his body armour. Soldier gripped the guards throat in his strong fingers and strangled him, while the second guard beat him about the face and head with a mail-gloved fist. Soldiers own blood ran into his eyes from the lacerations on his brow. He kicked the strangled man away and grasped the second guard about the knees, bringing him crashing to the floor. Soldier jumped up and brought his heel down on the unfortunate mans nose. There was a crack and the guard groaned, rolled over and lay still. Having dispatched these two - one dead, the other unconscious Soldier went to help Golgath, but that able warrior had already run his victim through the thigh. The man was not dead, but incapacitated, concerned only with the open artery which was spouting like a red fountain from his loins. Golgath then ran outside. The guard who had gone out there was pulling himself up onto the crenellations. He looked dazed and bewildered, and there was great pain in his eyes. The cloth of his brigandine had been forced into his wound by Golgaths deep, slashing stroke and he was trying to pull it gently from the slit. Golgath had no choice. The man would soon start yelling. Golgath drove his blade down beside the neck, between the collarbone and the ribcage, through the chest cavity, and into the mans heart. It was a well-practised stroke for the Guthrumite warrior, and the man died instantly. Golgath looked around, checking that no one had seen. There were warriors on other towers, on other battlements, but luckily none of them were looking his way. He quickly kicked the body flat and out of sight, then returned to the room where the fight had taken place. He was just in time to see Soldier take Caliphats head from his shoulders, in front of a terrified bodyguard still trying to staunch the blood flowing from his thigh. Moona Swan-neck entered the room as the head bounced across the floor and settled by a carved chest. She raised not a hair. Instead, she began to berate Soldier. What did you do that for? He called my wife a whore. Is that a reason to kill a man? Soldier was indignant. He was about to kill me. And whats that in the scheme of things? She seemed to be simmering with anger underneath. Why have you come here anyway? Soldier could not yet get over the fact that she was annoyed at Caliphats death. Hes such an ugly man. Vain and swollen with pride. It shows on his gross features. You surely didnt love him? Moona shook her head. What do you know of my mind? I have reasons beyond your measure. You have no idea. You come here to interfere. I see that now. My husband sent you. Did you ask me whether I wanted to return to Ophiria? No, you just went ahead and did what you wanted to do, without so much as consulting me. She looked about her without no compassion in her face. Well, its done now, we might as well go home. Golgath said, How do

BOOK: Wizard's Funeral
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