by Allan Cole
When Safar had finally awakened there was no sign of Astarias. Iraj reported she'd been returned to the wagon with the other women. Safar had pined for her, although he'd been shocked when Coralean had informed him the women were being taken to the brothels of Walaria where they'd be sold.
"If it were not for you and your brave friend, he'd told Safar, Coralean's wives would not only have lost their loving husband, but would have been impoverished as wellwithout even the price of a bowl of barley and rice to stave off starvation. As for the fair Astarias, she and her sisters in seduction squabbled so heatedly over who would care for you they gave poor Coralean a headache that could only be treated with a large jar of brandy."
He'd rubbed sore temples, groaning. But the cure, as always, has afflicted your humble servant anew. I fear Coralean must apply yet more brandy to treat this malady. Then he'd winked at Safar. Astarias surprised us all with her fire, he said. She may be small, my boy, but she's as fierce as a desert lynx."
Then he'd leaned closer to confide: Coralean was worried that after they'd survived the demon attack with little harm, the gods would mock me. And the women would then be damaged in a silly harem fight. I have a large investment in those women, you know. Not only their purchase price, mind you, but I spent much Coralean silver assuring they were fresh and free of all diseases. And I gave a witch a fat purse to cast spells that will make them inventive and full of passion for any man who pays to be taken into their embrace."
Safar had flushed, angry at such treatment of Astarias and her sisters. Coralean mistook his angry coloring for a village boy's blush from hearing of such worldliness.
"You'll learn of these things soon enough, my boy, he'd said. As a matter of fact we should consider furthering your education soon. I'll make your schooling in such matters my personal responsibility. I, Coralean, do so swear. And there is not a man who knows me who will dispute that the word of Coralean is sounder than any coin a king has minted."
His promise echoed in Safar's thoughts as they approached Kyrania. What the caravan master intended, he didn't know. He had several guesses, however, that had him squirming like a fly in a honeyed dilemma. If Safar was right, one part of his nature was insulted that Coralean thought so little of him. The shameful human side of him was powerfully intrigued.
Then all thoughts were swept away when Safar saw the huge gathering at the outskirts of the village. All of Kyrania had turned out. The musicians played horns and bagpipes and drums and the whole village cheered when they saw the caravan. Safar's family was in front with Gubadan and the village headman and elders. Everyone was dressed in their best costumes. Boys stood tall, chests puffed out, trying to look like men. The girls wore flowers in their hair and blew kisses as Safar and Iraj came near.
All goggled and pointed excitedly when they saw the gory head. It's true, then, a man said, that the demons got out!"
"Too bad for them they met our lads, eh? said another. This'll teach them to stay where they belong."
Coralean called a halt. He raised his hand for silence and the crowd hushed. He rose up in his stirrups so all could hear.
"Greetings, O gentle people of Kyrania, he said. I am Coralean of Caspan. We meet in circumstances filled with both joy and fear. He pointed at the head. There is the fear. But you will notice, no doubt, that this particular demon is taking a long rest on a stake made of good Kyranian wood. There were chortles in the crowd. This one and his companions, Coralean continued, defied the curse of the Forbidden Desert. Now they have their reward. To dance in the Hells for all eternity."
Laughter and nods followed that statement.
"And now I will speak of joy. And it is joy, not fear, that fills Coralean's heart. For more years than it is comfortable to consider Coralean has heard other caravan masters speak of the warmth and hospitality of the people of Kyrania. My brothers of the road are notorious liars, as I'm sure you all know. But the tales were so frequent and seemed so little exaggerated that Coralean came to believe they were true. So it was with much anticipation of meeting you all that I undertook this trading journey. The Coralean business has never taken him to this side of the Bride and her Maids before.
"During the long, hard months of travel Coralean thought of your peaceful valley many times. When we were thirsty, Coralean dreamed of the sweet waters of your lake. When we were hungry, Coralean took comfort in visions of your fat lamb kabobs and beds of barley spiced with oil from your olive trees and garlic from your gardens. When my men despaired, Coralean cheered them with tales of your charming village. All will be well, I told them, when we reach Kyrania. Yet how was Coralean to know that not only were the tales true, but Kyrania had more than mere hospitality to offer?"
He indicated Iraj and Safar. She also has brave young men of whom she can rightly boast. Young men whose like I've never had the thrill to see. And Coralean, you should know, has seen much in his long life. Others I've met are more full of bluster than true courage. Such men would most certainly have kept their silence and slipped away when they saw the demons creeping up on a party of strangers. And Coralean and his companions would have been doomed.
"But these two gave not a thought for their own safety. They risked their lives when they charged out to give warning. Then they turned to fight the demons as they rode down on us. Why, none of us would be alive today if they had not taken such a brave course.
"This one he pointed to Iraj"saved Coralean's life with an act of bravery and skill rarely witnessed. While this one he pointed to Safar"joined in the fray as if he were warrior born, instead of a gentle village lad. And then, wonder of all wonders, the gods of Kyrania personally intervened. They caused a great hill of snow and ice to fall on our attackers. Proving that these mountains and this valley are the most blessed in all the world. For it is here that the curse brought these demon interlopers down.
"After we have honored our dead, sending their souls back to the gods who made them, it is Coralean's fondest wish to reward these young men. And to reward Kyrania, as well. The gods willing, we will have a feast tomorrow night. A feast like no other Kyrania has ever seen. And all that is eaten and drunk shall be my gift to you. I, Coralean, do so swear!"
The crowd roared approval and crowded close to praise him and wish him well. In the confusion Safar slid off his horse and into his family's arms. His mother cried, patting him all over to make certain he was uninjured. His father clasped his shoulder in the strong grip men of Kyrania reserve for those they honor. His sisters wept and crowded around him.
Quetera slipped in to hug Safar when his mother stepped away. As he leaned over her child-swollen belly to kiss her she laughed at the awkward embrace.
"I'm so proud of you, Safar, she said.
Safar was surprised at her reaction. His dream had been so real he'd been braced for a scolding. Instead of thanking her, he blurted out that he was sorry.
"Why should be you be, Safar? she asked. Why should you be sorry for bringing such honor to our family?"
Iraj heard the exchange and pressed through to join them. He's just tired. He chuckled. Spearing demons is weary work."
Everyone laughed as if this were the greatest jest they'd ever heard. His words were passed along through the crowd of well-wishers and soon everyone was roaring.
That was another lesson Safar learned that day: that success could turn a man's every word into the purest gold. Which was something no wizard, living or dead, could accomplish.
****
The next day everyone gathered at the temple for the funeral ceremonies. Gubadan wore yellow robes of mourning, while the villagers tied yellow sashes around their waists and streaked their cheeks with hearth dust tears. The bodies of the seven dead caravan soldiers were laid out on a raft decorated with the red streamers favored by Tristos, the god who oversees the Kingdom of the Dead.
While a drum hammered a slow beat, Gubadan prayed over the poor strangers who had come among them and sprinkled their white-wrapped bodies with holy oil. When the s
un reached its highest point, Coraleandressed in the flowing golden robes with the scarlet fringe of his kinsmenstepped forward to light the oil-soaked kindling piled around the corpses. Then Iraj and Safar used long ribbon festooned poles to push the raft out into the lake. The current caught it, carrying it into the middle. Everyone prayed as thick smoke made a dark pathway in the sky. There was no wind that day and the smoke was carried high, curling under a bank of glowing white clouds, then streaming away in pale gray ribbons. Later, all said that this was a lucky sign.
As Safar bowed his head in prayer he chanced a look and saw the women from the caravan gathered in a quiet group. They wore heavy robes and their faces were veiled, so at first he couldn't make out Astarias. Then he saw a small figure slip her veil aside and a single eye peeped out. The eye found him. It was dark, with long flowing lashes. Safar smiled. A slender white hand fluttered at him. Then the veil was drawn back. Safar turned away, heart hammering, loins burning from the promise he thought he'd seen in that eye and fluttering hand.
Gubadan nudged him. It was time to lead the others in the funeral song.
The musette player set a slow tempo and one by one each instrument joined in. Safar lifted his head and let the clear, sad notes pour forth:
Where are our dream brothers? Gone to sweet-blossomed fields. Where are our dream brothers? Asleep in the Gods high meadow. Our mortal hearts Yearn to follow their souls.
The words carried far on the balmy air. And when the last notes fell, all were weeping.
****
Later, Coralean and the village leaders met to discuss the mysterious appearance of the demons. Safar and Iraj were allowed to attend the gathering in the large, colorful tent the caravan master had erected in the caravanserai.
Safar had never seen such luxury. The floor was covered with many layers of thick, expensive carpets. Pillows and cushions were spread around a central fire, where a servant tended a pot of steaming brandy. All manner of fruit bobbed on top and as the servant stirred the pot it gave off an odor so heavy Safar felt a little drunk from breathing the air. Curtains divided the tent into rooms and on one side Safar saw the shadows of the courtesans moving behind the thin veil, coming close so they could listen in.
"Here is Coralean's view of the situation, the caravan master said. The demons who attacked us were outlaws of the worst and most foolish kind. Their actions may even end up being a favor to us, for when they fail to return all demons will know the price that must be paid for defying the laws of the Gods."
There were murmurs of agreement from the elders.
"Then what shall we do about it? Coralean said. What is our next step? Coralean asks this, believing it would be best if we acted in concert."
"Alert the authorities, of course, Gubadan said.
Coralean's bushy brows lofted. Do you really think so, holy one? he asked. He looked around at the others. And who, after all, are these authorities? Coralean owes no king his allegiance. He is his own man."
Buzal, the headman, who at eighty was the oldest of the group, said, Kyrania makes its own laws. No one rules us. He indicated Gubadan. Our priest has superiors, which is only natural. Buzal grinned, displaying dark, rock-hard gums. But I don't think they talk together much. I'd guess that they barely remember if he exists."
Gubadan stroked his beard, then nodded in unembarrassed agreement. We're far away, he said. And the temple isn't considered important. Still, don't we have a duty to warn others?"
"That's a load of goat droppings, Foron, the village smithy, broke in. Meaning no offense, of course. What's to warn? The demons are dead and stinking. No more are likely to come. And that's that. The tale is told."
"But why shouldn't we tell others? Gubadan asked. What would be the harm?"
Coralean harrumphed and all turned to see what he had to offer. I do not know these parts, the caravan master said. This is the first time the Coralean business has carried me over these mountains to the markets of Walaria and beyond. It cost me much to buy the necessary maps from my brother merchants. Even if this first journey proves profitable beyond my wildest estimates, it will take many such journeys before Coralean's initial investment is repaid."
He shook his great, shaggy head. Even so, he said, if Coralean were a lesser man this incident might give me pause. I might never dare such an undertaking again. And I know my brother caravan masters well enough to say with some confidence that they would feel the same if they suddenly thought these mountains had become unsafe."
There were murmurs among the men. It would be disastrous if Coralean reported such a thing. All trade over the Gods Divide would cease. And more than just Kyrania would suffer. Life could become very bleak.
"Not only would there be no more caravans crossing, Safar's father said to Gubadan, but there'd be no more pilgrims."
The old priest winced. Everyone knew how much he depended on the donations of the faithful who visited the Goddess Felakia's temple and holy lake.
"Yes, he said, I can see the wisdom in your words, Khadji. However, what if we are mistaken and these demons are not the only ones? We are cut off here from the rest of the world. News travels slowly. What if others have been plagued by demons? Our silence could end up being an unnecessary and dangerous decision."
Iraj cleared his throat. All looked at him. He flushed at the attention, then emboldened himself to speak before the elders.
"Forgive me, sirs, he said. As you know, I made a long journey not many months ago, passing through Walaria on the way. And I heard nothing in the market place of demons… or any other dangers, for that matter, other than the usual tales of marauding bandits."
The men listened to Iraj quite carefully and with deep respect. Safar thought it ironic that only a few days before many villagers had gone out of their way to avoid Iraj, fearing the trouble he might bring from the outside world. Now he was a hero because he'd turned back a threat from the outside.
Gubadan gently broke in to explain Iraj's backgroundcarefully skirting the issue that he was hiding out from some of his own tribe. However, Coralean immediately caught on that although demons might not be riding about at will, there were other troubles to be considered.
"May the name of Coralean be bandied about in the company of swine, if I'm wrong, the caravan master said, But from what your wise priest just said, it sounds to me like the south is about to become a permanent battle ground for warring clans. This would almost be as bad for trade as the demons."
"Not if I have anything to say about it, Iraj blurted. Then he turned as red as a ripe apple for making such a seemingly foolish statement.
Coralean studied him for a long moment. Then he smiled. After hearing of your background I now fully understand where you got your fire, he said. You didn't learn it here, that's for certain."
He made a soothing gesture to the rest of gathering. I cast no doubts on the courage of the men Kyrania, he said. Your own Safar has proven there is steel in your spines. But I know you do not claim to be warriors. Which this young man he indicated Iraj"was surely bred to be. There were mutters of agreement from the men. It's also my guess, the caravan master said, that you are the son of a chieftain."
Iraj bowed his head, not saying anything, while Gubadan tried to leap in to save his secret. But Coralean only laughed and shrugged his shoulders. You needn't reveal more, he said. Something is going on, or you may call Coralean the son of an ass who mated with a dog who doesn't know from one minute to the next whether he will bray or bark."
He leaned closer to Iraj. I'll tell you this, my brave young warrior. If you should ever need the help of Coralean, you have only to ask."
When he said that Safar learned it doesn't necessarily take a magical vision to see through the disguise of a future king. A canny merchant can do just as welland without disturbing the serenity of his dreams.
Iraj lifted his head to return Coralean's curious stare. His lips lifted slightly for a brief smile and then he nodded. This was a promise he would long remember. A
silent understanding passed between the two. When the time cameand there was no doubt it wouldnot only would Iraj ask, but he would repay the caravan master many times over for any assistance he gave.
Coralean turned to others. Is it agreed, then? he asked. We say nothing of this incident. Correct?"
There was a whispered discussion among the elders. Then Buzal said, What of your men? He pointed at the curtain that divided the room from the harem. And the women? Can you assure us of their silence?"
"My men obey me in all things, Coralean said. There's no need for worry in that quarter. As for the women, well, Coralean will tell you a little secret of the courtesan trade. Before I deliver these girls to their new masters each will drink a Cup of Forgetfulness. They will have no memory of their past. No reason to pine for home and family and friends. This makes for a most pliable and happy bed slave. No weeping to dampen the ardor of their masters. And in this case, no tales of demons to disturb their dreams."
The men snickered and then relaxed. Carnal jests were exchanged and there was much manly guffawing and knee-slapping. Only Safar was horrified at this casual dismissal of Astarias and her sisters. He glanced over at his father and saw that Khadji had the same knowing look in his eyes as the others. The same flushed and swollen features.
Then Coralean had his servant dip out hot bowls of brandy punch to be passed around. They were quickly emptied and refilled several times. Soon the talk became louder, the men's voices deepening as they recounted the bold adventures of their youth. Coralean held forth for more than an hour, telling every detail of the fight that he'd witnessed. The men murmured in appreciation when he told of how Safar had fought the demonsslaying the beast who took Astarias with a splintered staff that he'd wielded like a war spear. But there were loud gasps at Iraj's courage when he'd rescued Coralean, leaping on the demon's steed like the greatest of plains warriors, testing his strength against a more powerful enemy and finally cutting a path in his throat so the demon's soul could flee.
