Sorcery in Shad Page 13

  ‘As for the third sword, that had fallen into the hands of a very fat, very offensive jeweller in Thinhla. His name was Nud Annoxin, and he dealt with Tarra Khash very badly indeed. Alas for him, he likewise sinned against Ahorra Izz—’

  ‘Another of the steppeman’s weird friends!’ said Teh Atht.

  ‘—Arachnid lord of scarlet scorpions,’ Amyr went on. ‘Tarra would have killed Nud Annoxin for what he did to him, but scorpion-god got there first. And so Nud’s ceremonial scimitar became the sword of the Hrossak.’

  ‘All fits,’ said Teh Atht, ‘except for one oddly shaped piece. What use to Gorgos a broken sword?’

  ‘None at all,’ replied Amyr, ‘not until he had it repaired! Then: it was very nearly a perfect job, but not quite. There was a certain slight imbalance. That was how Tarra knew which of the three swords was his, enabling him to snatch it back again. Which was what in the end put paid to Gorgos’ evil schemes – and to Gorgos himself.’

  After a while the wizard asked: ‘How does the sword aid Tarra Khash?’

  ‘That I’ve seen, not at all,’ Amyr shrugged. ‘He’s no wizard, like you, Teh Atht. But he is a wizard swordsman! A fighter born, the Hrossak. He’s probably better with it than any other man – but using it as a sword, not as a wand.’

  ‘Hmm!’ said the other, and there followed a long silence.

  Now they were flying over the Black Isle, that enigmatic rock to the east of the Crater Sea proper, then skimming the peaks of the Great Circle Range, and moments later dropping down over the moon-mirroring Crater Sea. Ahead, the scattered jewel isles of the Suhm-yi.

  ‘Observe,’ said Teh Atht. ‘We climbed to a considerable height in order to clear the mountains back there. This was not without effort both on my part and the carpet’s. Now, however, we can soar! Journey to Inner Isles is close to an end.’

  He leaned forward and the carpet likewise tilted. Now it seemed to poise in mid-air, then dipped forward and gathered speed, and in a great sweeping glide went whistling down to level out just above the still waters of the Crater Sea. Islands reared their low hills and night-dark foliage on every hand.

  ‘Which will you make your home?’ the wizard inquired.

  ‘Any will do,’ Amyr answered. ‘I’ll build a boat and we can decide later. But for now, one of the smaller islands, I think. Like that one there.’ And he pointed.

  Teh Atht flew the carpet close to the shore of the indicated islet. ‘Well, here’s hoping all goes well with you,’ he said. ‘And who knows, we may even meet again.’

  ‘Now hold!’ cried Amyr, warning chimes sounding in his head. ‘The deal was we’d put down Ulli safe and sound, then that you’d fly me—’

  But Teh Atht wasn’t listening.

  He clung fast to the carpet’s fringe, uttered a breathless rune of Instant Inversion. All within the climatic capsule was immediately upended – with the exception of gravity itself! Amyr and Ulli fell like stones – all of six or seven feet into tranquil, temperate waters. And overhead, repeating his rune and correcting carpet’s orientation, Teh Atht squinted anxiously down to ensure his passengers had come to no harm. Like all island peoples, the pair could swim like fishes, and the wizard saw that already they stood upright in the shallows watching him.

  ‘And how’s this for a wizard’s word?!’ Amyr choked back his fury.

  Teh Atht hovered out of reach, sadly shook his head.

  ‘Do you think I enjoy this?’ he said. ‘It isn’t for me but for you! Last of the Suhm-yi, Amyr Arn, you and your Ulli both. An entire race of beings in your bodies, but no use one without the other. Fearless you are – but where a certain Hrossak’s concerned, foolish too. Oh, I know well enow how you’d rush off to his rescue, and perhaps to your death – but what of Ulli then?’

  ‘All of that is our concern!’ Amyr cried.

  ‘No,’ Teh Atht denied, ‘It’s mine. And I’ll not see myself damned to all eternity for what might well amount to genocide! So you stay here in your jewel isles, and I’ll do what I can for Tarra Khash.’

  ‘Cheat!’ Amyr shook a clenched fist. ‘Be sure your treachery will find you out. You’ll do what you can for Tarra? Am I supposed to believe that? You’re in this for yourself!’

  Teh Atht gazed gravely down, finally nodded his agreement. ‘True enough,’ he said, ‘and useless to deny it. Certainly I’ve my own interests to look after; aye, and it’s a sad fact that you’d likely get in my way. Which can’t be allowed. But always remember this, Amyr Arn: I’m a white wizard, not a black magician – and there’s a big difference, my friend …’ With which, and without further ado, he bade his carpet rise up and bear him home.

  … Home to Klühn.

  Returning along almost the same aerial route, though naturally in the opposite direction, Teh Atht reflected on all he’d learned.

  He now felt that he knew Tarra Khash personally; certainly he believed he recognized the Hrossak’s persuasive power over people – not to mention creatures and even deities! Time alone would tell if he was right. But if he was…well, there was a certain magick in it, albeit of a sort beyond the range of ‘mundane’ magicians. As for the steppeman’s sword: that, too, was very special! Veritably a Sword of Power. One thing for sure: it must not be allowed to fall into Black Yoppaloth’s hands in Shad.

  Which in turn meant Teh Atht would likely have his work cut out for him. For how to stop Cush Gemal taking the sword with him across the Straits of Yhem?

  With matters such as these to distract him, the wonder is that Teh Atht spied, far below, emerging from a pass on the Klühn side of the Great Eastern Range, a pair of creatures whose freakish forms he knew at once. They were keeping up a fair pace (considering the ground they’d covered, which had taken them more than halfway home) but both were wearying now, and their flits and hops were less vigorous. Teh Atht swooped down, called them aboard the carpet.

  For once they were glad to see him. Flitter clung with his claws to the tail end of the carpet, folding his wings back like a dart and gliding, while hopper simply flopped down centrally, causing something of a sag. And shortly thereafter all three of them were back in Teh Atht’s apartments overlooking the Bay of Klühn.

  Worn out, the wizard’s familiars went to their private places and at once fell asleep; Teh Atht saw the sense in that, snatched a ten-second ‘night’ in a state of Rapid Repose. After that, with dawn showing faintly pink on the eastern horizon, it was time for breakfast. Following which… business as usual.

  Time now to discover what the shewstone had recorded, and to see how things stood at present. Ah, but all very softly-softly! In no wise a clever thing to scry on Cush Gemal too intently, or for too prolonged a period. No, in no wise wise at all …

  Tarra came awake with the strange, nagging sensation of being scrutinized both from afar and close at hand. There was a pink flush on the eastern horizon; smallest stars were fast fading; a hooded figure, furtive however familiar, leaned over him.

  Someone leaning over him?

  The Hrossak whipped his blanket aside and continued the motion to snatch for hilt of scimitar – where it no longer protruded above his shoulder! A hand hard as old leather clamped itself to his face and mouth, and well known voice hissed in his ear: ‘Be still! It’s me, Stumpy!’

  Tarra relaxed in the lizard’s elbow and Stumpy withdrew his hand. But in another moment: ‘Stumpy Adz?’ Tarra hoarsely whispered. ‘What the hell—!’

  ‘Shh!’ Stumpy cautioned, desperately squinting all about.

  ‘Shh?’ said Tarra. ‘Are you totally daft? If they catch you, they’ll have your ribs for tent pegs!’ He sat up, gazed all about in the deceptive false-dawn light. ‘How’d you get past the watch?’

  ‘What watch?’ Stumpy answered with a question of his own. ‘Nothing stirs round here, believe me. Now let’s cut the blather and get out of here!’

  Tarra slid down from his honker’s elbow, but carefully, so as not to disturb the slumbering giant. ‘Where’s your—’ he check
ed himself ‘—no, my, camel?’

  ‘Behind the dune over there,’ Stumpy was fairly dancing with anxiety. ‘Come on, man, let’s scarper!’

  Tarra shook his head, hung back, tried to get his brain going. He should hurry along with Stumpy, of course; the camel was a good big ’un and could easily carry two; and the slavers, so close to the end of their murderous trip, weren’t much likely to come in pursuit. This was Tarra’s big chance, probably the only chance he’d get.

  But—

  ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘Here’s what I want you to do.’

  ‘What?’ Stumpy couldn’t believe his ears. What did the great ox think he was doing, wasting time like this? ‘What?’ he said again, hopping to and fro between one foot and the other. ‘What I want you to do is come with me, now, before the camp wakes up and—’

  Tarra’s turn to stifle. He grabbed Stumpy’s neck in one hand, clapped the other over his mouth, shook him like a rag doll. ‘Listen, old friend, and listen good,’ he grated from between clenched teeth. ‘I knew it was you following us, and I hoped and prayed they wouldn’t get you. Well, wily old devil, they didn’t. And I appreciate you coming for me like this, which is something no man in his right mind would have tried. But…but I can’t come with you!’

  Stumpy’s one good eye popped wide open. Tarra waited until his wriggling subsided, released him. ‘Why not?’ Stumpy breathlessly demanded then. ‘Why damn it to hell not!?’

  ‘Because—’ (Tarra wasn’t quite sure himself), ‘—because there’s a young lad here who needs a friend. Aye, and his sister, too. Innocents, both of ’em, Stumpy. Also, the frizzy boss has my sword, and I’m not going anywhere without it. And finally …’

  Stumpy’s shoulders slumped. ‘Finally, you’ve never been to Shad before, eh?’ he said.

  Still gritting his teeth, on impulse, Tarra hugged him, released him, said: ‘Now you get back across that dune, aboard that camel, and ride the hell for Hrossa! Tell ’em right across the steppes all you know – especially that there’s Hrossaks been taken into slavery by Shad, which is a lie, I know, but tell ’em anyway – and ask to be taken down into Grypha. Tell the Gryphans, too, and then board a ship for Klühn. Before you know it, all this corner of Theem’hdra will be up in arms against Shad and Shadarabar. That’s the best thing you can do! Maybe we’ll meet again if I come out of this in one piece, and if I don’t—’

  ‘You there!’ came shout in throaty Yhemni tones. A frizzy stood centrally in the circle, close to where last night’s fires had burned. He’d bedded down there with several others, who now were stirring and tossing aside their blankets. ‘What do?’ His jaw had fallen open.

  ‘Run!’ Tarra hissed.

  Stumpy ran.

  The black slaver came stumbling, tripped on a companion and went to his knees. When he came erect again, Tarra saw he’d picked up a crossbow. Other Yhemnis were climbing to their feet; slaves groaned and stirred under their wagons; a big lizard grumbled and honked disdainfully.

  Tarra took a deep breath, held it, stared after Stumpy. The old lad was halfway up a steep dune, wallowing like a stranded whale. The black with the crossbow came running, skidded to a halt beside Tarra. He stared hard at him, then lifted his weapon and aimed it at Stumpy’s back where his scarecrow figure was limned against the dawn at the crest of the dune. Tarra stood with his back to his lizard where it had just this moment started awake. Its great eyes rolled to gaze at the black leaning across its foreleg, aiming his weapon.

  Tarra slid two fingers under a limp scale, nipped the tender follicle there. Old Scaly reared up, sent the Yhemni marksman flying. His bolt zipped skyward, going nowhere in particular. The black got up.

  ‘Stupid …lizard!’ he spat, aiming a kick at the great beast. Tarra got between, shoved him onto his rump again.

  ‘None of that!’ he growled. ‘What? Injure this valuable beast? Land one kick on that scaly hide and I’ll have him bite you in halves!’

  Stumpy was almost forgotten; the thudding of a hard-ridden camel’s hooves came faintly from far away, fading; the furious black got up and yanked out his knife, and for a moment Tarra thought the man would go for him. Then:

  ‘What’s all this?’ Cush Gemal came jerkily striding, reminding Tarra of nothing so much as a spindly, two-legged black spider. ‘What’s it mean?’ Gemal demanded.

  The raging black controlled himself, put away his knife, backed off. Tarra turned to the slaver chief. ‘We had a visitor,’ he said. ‘Some wasteland scavenger, a lone thief. I woke up, saw him sniffing about, crept up on him. Then this idiot,’ he jerked his thumb at the cowering black, ‘came shouting and shooting, scared him off! It was probably the one who’s been trailing us. No harm done, though, that I can see.’

  Gemal flared his nostrils, narrowed his eyes at the thoroughly cowed Yhemni. He stepped closer, appraised the Hrossak keenly through eyes gleamy as wet pebbles. Tarra gazed back, apparently undismayed. Gemal couldn’t know how he held his breath. Then the caravan’s master turned to a pair of Northmen where they’d mounted-up on ponies. ‘Get after him!’ he cried. ‘Catch him and kill him, whoever he is if you can. And if you can’t…then meet us at the ocean loch.’

  As they goaded their mounts to a gallop he turned back to Tarra, and in softer tone: ‘Was it the way you reported it, Hrossak?’

  Tarra shrugged. ‘Why don’t you question your night watch?’ he said. ‘They’d be the ones with the answers. And if they haven’t any, then I’d want to know what they’ve been doing all night!’

  Gemal’s gaze was so penetrating, Tarra believed he might be looking right into his soul. But then those eyes blinked and the scowl lifted from the slaver’s face. Finally, raising his voice, Gemal addressed the entire camp:

  ‘Make ready at once!’ he shouted. ‘I’ll brook no more delay. We ate well last night; this morning we breakfast at ocean’s rim, before making sail. And now make haste, for the sun’s almost up.’

  With that it seemed the incident was over, and Tarra could start breathing normally again. Watching Gemal stride away in the direction of his tent, he heard— ‘Pst! Pst! He looked, saw Loomar Nindiss’ eyes staring at him from the shadows under the wagon.

  ‘What is it?’ Tarra whispered, pretending to check various chains and fastenings on the great shafts.

  ‘That was no raider,’ Loomar whispered back. ‘You knew him.’ It was no way an accusation, just a statement of fact.

  ‘Keep your voice down, lad,’ Tarra told him. And in another moment: ‘So I knew him. So what?’ ‘You could have run off.’

  ‘Should have,’ Tarra answered. ‘Were you the only one awake?’

  ‘I think so. I’ve been awake most of the night. But listen: Cush Gemal won’t be talking to the night watch, as you suggested.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘No, for last night there came a black cloud that let down green fires round Gemal’s tent. And I saw him call the night watch inside with him. They didn’t come out again.’

  Tarra thought about it, offered a slight nod of his head, said, ‘Thanks for the information. But Loomar, let’s try to be more discreet in future, eh? There are people here – and one in particular – who’d consider that you see, hear, speak and think entirely too much! You’d lose your eyes, ears, tongue, and very likely several other bits if they overheard what you just said. Aye, and so would I!’

  Following which he strode away, and went to see to Old Scaly …

  All of which, in his apartments in Klühn, Teh Atht the white wizard saw and heard. What he did not see was this:

  In the lava lair of lamia Sisterhood, the Council of Five sat in extraordinary session, of which fearsome gathering Orbiquita herself was the youngest and most junior member. Unthinkable that a lamia serving out her five-year term as Mistress of the Cavern should convene such a meeting in the first place, but Orbiquita had done just that, which was what made it extraordinary.

  But Chairmistress she was not; no, for that honour went to Iniquiss, oldest and b
y far wisest of all that monstrous brood. The other three were Hissiliss, Suquester and Scuth. Having heard Orbiquita out, now Iniquiss barked:

  ‘What? And have you called us down here from our various pleasures and pursuits to listen to drivel such as this? Methinks it’s simply a scheme to cut short your irksome but well-earned detention here!’

  Orbiquita, entirely unmindful of Iniquiss’ magnitude, snapped, ‘Not the case! You know well enow that in that event – and if my deception were discovered – then that my term would be doubled. I know it too, and I’m no such fool. No, the case I have made is reliable in every instance, and my plea stands: that I be allowed a period of time in which to pattern certain events in the outer world of men. That is all.’

  ‘All? That is all?’ Hissiliss hissed, belching her astonishment in brimstone gusts. ‘But isn’t this the same Orbiquita who already took time off to go canoodling with a man – an entirely human man, that is?’

  ‘Juicy news travels fast,’ Orbiquita growled, venting steam. ‘Aye, one and the same, snakeface. There is only one Orbiquita! But no canoodling, I promise you. I owed him a debt and repaid it.’

  ‘But you would canoodle,’ Hissiliss sulphurously insisted, ‘if ’twere possible?’

  Orbiquita offered up a snort of her own. ‘How can you gnaw on their bones,’ she said, ‘and yet talk about them as if they were unclean? Men sired us! Some of us, anyway. Yibb-only-knows what sired you four …’

  ‘Insults will get you nowhere!’ Suquester and Scuth, who were true sisters, shouted together.

  ‘I’m the one insulted!’ Orbiquita gave back. ‘Are my rank and position in the Sisterhood entirely ignored? Am I not a member of the Council of Five?’