Wizard of the winds tott-1

by Allan Cole

  "You're as beautiful as ever, my love, Safar murmured. Only a little weak from your ordeal."

  "You always did lie so sweetly, Safar, Methydia said. But it isn't the time for sugary words. There's no getting around itI'm dying."

  Safar clutched her hand tighter. I won't let you! he cried. But as he said it he could feel her slipping away. Stay with me, Methydia! he begged. I'll send for all the healers. I'll make a spell with them, a spell so strong not even the gods themselves could thwart me."

  She smiled and he felt her rally, but faint, so faint.

  "Let me tell you a secret, my sweet Safar, she said. The gods aren't listening. They aren't listening now. And they haven't been listening for a long time. I know this because I'm so close to death I can see into the Otherworlds.

  "And do you know what I see?"

  "What? Safar asked, voice quivering.

  "The gods are asleep! So deep in their slumber that not even a thousand times a thousand voices lifted at once could raise them."

  Safar thought she was raving and he kissed her, murmuring, Nonsense, Methydia. It's only a fever dream you see, not the Otherworlds."

  "I wish it were, Methydia said. I wish it were."

  Suddenly her eyes grew wider and she struggled to sit up. Safar gently pressed her down, begging her to be still.

  "Listen to me, Safar! she cried.

  "I'm listening, Methydia, Safar answered.

  "Only you can wake the gods, Safar, she said. Only you!"

  "Certainly, my love, Safar said. I'll do it as soon as you're well again. We'll wake them together."

  "I'm not mad, she said, suddenly stern and with such strength it surprised him. I'm only dying. So don't argue with a dead woman. It isn't polite. Now listen to me! Are you listening?"

  "Yes, Methydia, Safar said.

  "You mustn't hate Protarus for what was done to me, she said. It was an accident of war, nothing more. Promise me you won't hate him!"

  "I promise, Safar said.

  "Good. Now I want another promise from you."

  "Anything, my love. Anything at all."

  "Go with him. Go with Protarus. Help him. It's the only way!"

  "Don't ask that of me, Methydia, Safar begged. Please! Too many people are suffering."

  "Ease their suffering if you can, she said. But help Protarus get his throne. The throne isn't important. It's only the first step. Protarus isn't important. He's only on the road you must follow. I don't know what's at the end of that road. But you'll know what to do when you get there.

  "You'll know, my sweet Safar. You'll know."

  "Please, Methydia, Safar said.

  "Do you promise me, Safar Timura? Do you promise?"

  "I can't, Safar said.

  Methydia gripped his hand, squeezing as tight as she could. Putting her all her will and remaining strength in that grip.

  "Promise me! she insisted.

  "Very well, Safar cried, I promise! Just don't leave me!"

  Her hand went limp. Safar looked at her, tears blurring his vision.

  There was a smile on her face.

  An awful wailing filled the tent as the shock sank in and the other entertainers shouted their grief.

  Methydia was dead.

  Safar remembered Biner's words long ago when they'd first met:

  "Damn everything but the circus!"

  And now that circus was no more.

  ****

  Safar hurried through the encampment, roughly pushing aside anyone who got in his way. Iraj wasn't at his tent headquarters. Safar snarled at a general for directions and his manner was so fierce the scarred veteran of many wars blurted the answer as if he were green stripling.

  Safar found Iraj sitting on his traveling throne, which had been moved to a point about halfway down the hillside overlooking Sampitay. On either side of the throne two tall sharpened stakes had been driven into the ground.

  Queen Arma's head was mounted on one stake, Prince Crol's on the other.

  At the bottom of the hill long lines of the condemned were being herded to the execution blocks. Posts had been erected just beyond and naked men were tied to those posts, screeching in agony while gleeful soldiers tormented them with spears.

  Iraj was surrounded by his royal guard and when some of the women saw Safar's manner they drew their swords and stepped in his way.

  "Let him through, Iraj commanded.

  Reluctantly they parted but they held their swords at ready.

  Iraj was grim, face as pale and bloodless as Methydia's had been. He signaled his women to move farther away.

  "Give us some privacy, he barked.

  The women pulled back, but they weren't happy about it.

  "Why did you come here, Safar? he asked. This isn't something that's necessary for you to see."

  "I want to ask a favor of you, Iraj, Safar said.

  Iraj stirred, irritated. Can't it wait? This is hardly the time or place."

  Then he, too, took note of Safar's expression. What is it, my friend? What has happened?"

  Safar shook his head, too overcome to answer.

  Then sad understanding dawned in Iraj's eyes. Ah, I see. Your woman died, is that it?"

  "Yes."

  "And you loved her?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm sorry for that. I hope you don't hate me for it."

  "No."

  "It was an accident of war."

  "Methydia said the same thing before she died."

  "A wise woman."

  "She was that."

  Iraj searched Safar's face, then asked, What is it you want from me? What can I do to ease your pain?"

  Safar pointed at the awful scene below. Spare them, he said.

  Iraj gave him a strange look.

  "Let me explain why this would be good for you, Safar said.

  Iraj shook his head. You don't need to explain your reasons to me. You asked a boon. You shall have it. Freely given and without hesitation.

  "After all, that is our agreement. Our blood oath pledge to each other."

  Iraj shouted for his aides and they came running up to him. Release these people, he commanded. Return them to their homes."

  "But, Majesty, one of the aides protested. What of their defiance? We must make an example of people like this."

  Iraj glowered at the man, who visibly shrank under the glare. If you ever dare question me again, sir, the king said, it'll be your head on one of those blocks. Do as I commanded! At once!"

  The aides rushed off to his bidding. A few moments later horns blared, orders were shouted, and the chains were stricken from the limbs of the people of Sampitay. They fell to their knees, weeping and shouting praises to the heavens, thanking the gods and Protarus for sparing them.

  Safar watched, thinking it was Methydia they should be thanking, not Protarus.

  "To be frank, my friend, Iraj said, I am relieved to grant you this favor. Viewing mass executions, much less ordering them, is one of my least favorite duties."

  "Don't order them, then, Safar said.

  Iraj's brow rose in surprise. His cheeks flushed. It was clear he was not used to be spoken to this way. Then he made a rueful smile.

  "You speak honestly, he said. No one in my court dares do that. Which is what I lack most of all. A friend who dares to tell me what he truly believes."

  "Not an hour ago, Safar said, you asked me to join you. Do you still want my service?"

  "Indeed I do, Iraj answered. But I don't want your answer now. I granted you a favor. It wouldn't be right to ask one in return. It would be a stain on our friendship."

  "You'll have my answer just the same, Safar said. And it won't be a favor I'm granting you. I will join you, freely and gladly. All I ask is that you listen to my advice, which I will give you as honestly as I can."

  "Done! Iraj said, face lighting up.

  He thrust out his hand. Take it, my brother, he said. And I will lift you as high as it is in my powers to do."

  Safar clasped
his hand.

  Iraj said, Safar Timura, son of a potter, wizard of the High Caravans, I, King Iraj Protarus, proclaim you Grand Wazier. From this moment on you are the highest of the high in my realm.

  "And you may command all but myself."

  Safar felt the world turn about. It was as if a great circus master had spun the Great Wheel of the Fates. Safar was strapped to it, his head the arrow point, spinning, spinning, spinning. And he heard the circus master's cry, Around and around he goes… and where he stops… the gods only know!"

  Safar gripped Iraj's hand tighter, partly to steady himself, but mostly to keep himself from snatching his own hand away. He wanted nothing of this. His greatest desire was to climb aboard the Cloudship with Biner and Arlain and the others and flee this place, this fate.

  But the Cloudship was no more.

  And he had made a promise to Methydia.

  Safar steeled his nerve and said as firmly as he could: I accept."

  ****

  That night Iraj called his court into session. There was a small ceremony to proclaim Safar Grand Wazier.

  The faces of the king's officers and courtiers were all a blur to Safar. He could pick out only a few. Some were friendly. Some were not. Mostly, there were only looks of curiosity and awe.

  Who was this man who had been lifted so high, so quickly?

  Did his presence bode ill, or fair?

  ****

  Late in the night Safar dreamed that Methydia came to him.

  In his dream he felt soft hands caressing him. He opened his eyes and saw Methydia's face and Methydia's slender body poised over him. He cried out her name and crushed to her to him. They made love, a floaty love like they were aboard the Cloudship once again. Then the Cloudship burst into flames, plunging for the earth and they clasped one another, riding the fire in an endless fall.

  When he awoke in the morning Safar found Leiria snuggled in the crook of his arm, smiling in her sleep.

  Feeling like a traitor, he gently tried to extract his arm. But Leiria came awake, purring and sloe-eyed and clutching him closer.

  He untangled her politely, but firmly. I have duties to attend to, he said.

  At first Leiria pouted, then she giggled and got up, saying, I mustn't be selfish and take all your strength, my lord."

  Safar managed a faint smile for an answer.

  She starting pulling on clothes. You called out another woman's name in the night, she said. Her tones were light, but Safar could sense hurt in them. Was she the one who died?"

  "Yes, Safar answered softly.

  Leiria shrugged. I don't mind, she said. It's good that your heart is faithful. She had her head down, concentrating hard on buckling on her weapons. The king has ordered me to comfort you and guard you with my life."

  She raised her head and Safar saw tears in her eyes. The king orders, she said, but I do it gladly. I will guard you and I will be this other woman for you for as long as you like.

  "And perhaps someday it will be my name you speak instead of… hers."

  Safar didn't know what to say. From the look on her face a word either way might cause a flood of tears. She would despise him for humiliating her.

  So all he said was, You honor me, Leiria."

  Weak as that reply was, she seemed to find satisfaction in it. She nodded, finished her dressing, then kissed hima quick peck on the cheekand left.

  Safar looked after her wondering how much was artifice and how much was truly meant.

  And how much would she tell Iraj?

  ****

  It wasn't long before Safar had a chance to test those questions. He'd barely had time to snatch a quick meal and don his clothes before Iraj summoned him.

  Leiria was his guide and guard as he made his hasty way into the king's presence. She gave no hint of the night they'd had together. Her bearing was professional and military, her manner courteous and respectful.

  When they came to the king's rooms he didn't have to undergo the usual search for weapons and was instantly swept inside. Iraj was seated in a simple camp chair, maps and charts spread out on a small table in front of him.

  When he saw Safar he said, It seems my little gift to you has caused all sorts of trouble, my friend."

  Safar forced himself not to look at Leiria. What ever do you mean, Iraj? he asked.

  Iraj tapped one of the maps. I'm planning our next campaign, he said, to Safar's immense relief. Winter is coming on and there isn't much time."

  "What's the problem? Safar asked. And how was I the cause of it?"

  "Sampitay is the problem, Iraj answered. Now that I've given it back to its people, as you requested, I'll have those same people at my back when we march again."

  "What makes you think they'll be a danger to you? Safar asked.

  "What makes you think they won't? was Iraj's reply, eyes narrowing.

  "Aren't you going to garrison the city, Safar asked and put one of your own men in charge?"

  "Garrisons are trebly expensive, Iraj said. They cost money, soldiers, and good officers to run them."

  "Yesterday, Safar said, I offered reasons for my request. You kindly chose not to hear. I'd like to offer them again."

  Iraj nodded. Go ahead, he said.

  "Sampitay is one of the richest cities in Esmir, Safar pointed out. The source of its wealth, as you know, is silk. But it takes highly skilled people to produce that silkskills few others in world possess outside Sampitay.

  "So the people are worth more to you alive and free than dead or enslaved. Think of all the gold they'll pay in taxes. Gold you can use to wage your campaign.

  "As for the soldiers necessary to garrison the city, why not enlist an equal number of Sampitay soldiers to take their place? You can them train in your ways easily enough.

  "Finally, you must have many young officers who ache for more responsibility and promotion. They can replace the senior officers you leave behind to command the garrison to keep the peace and make certain your taxes are collected."

  Iraj considered, then said, I admit I'm in sore need of money. They don't tell you in the histories of warfare how much it costs to wage those wars.

  "Thus far I've used plunder and the paltry taxes I'm able to collect from the cities now under my rule. Unfortunately, plunder tends to go more into the pockets of my soldiers than mine. They expect it and it is their right.

  "As for the taxes, the rulers who have allied themselves to me are always whining they are hard pressed to pay what I ask. I don't have time to go back and give them a real reason for their moaning and so they've been cheating me without mercy."

  "Then garrison them all in the manner I suggested for Sampitay, Safar said.

  "What? And use their soldiers as well to replace my own?"

  "What's wrong with that? Safar asked.

  "Up until now, Iraj said, I've only used men from my native plains."

  "That was certainly a wise policy when you started out, Safar said. But if you are to be King of Kings, the true ruler of all Esmir, you must look for loyalty in the hearts of all your subjects, not just in the men of the plains.

  "And that, my friend, is the best reason of all to end this policy of slaughter. Besides, you told me yourself you disliked all that bloodshed. Perhaps this reluctance really wasn't due to some weakness you inherited from your father. Perhaps it was in the back of your mind that a new way had to be found to rule the kind of kingdom that was once Alisarrian's.

  "And all I've done was to put words to ideas that were there all along."

  Iraj thought for a time, then said, I'll do as you suggest, he said. Starting with Sampitay."

  He motioned to the maps. It'll make this job much easier, that's for certain. Before winter sets in I'll have the whole south under my rule. And in the spring he traced a line across the God's Divide"we'll take on the north, crossing at Kyrania just as Alisarrian did."

  He sagged back in his chair, weary. I'll have to fight my way all the way to the sea, he said. I wonder how man
y years it will take? And if I'll live long enough to see it."

  "You will, Safar said.

  Iraj smiled, remembering. That's right. We saw each other in that vision, didn't we? The demons under our boots as we marched on the gates of Zanzair."

  "I remember, Safar said.

  Iraj was silent for a moment, then he asked, Do you think of the demons often? When we faced them together in the pass?"

  "It's my least favorite nightmare, Safar said.

  "Do you think Coralean was right? And they were just a group of bandits who strayed into the humanlands?"

  "I've seen no evidence pointing either way, Safar said. I combed the libraries in Walaria to find some historical precedence. He shook his head. There wasn't any. However, many strange things have happened since that time. Droughts and plagues and wars."

  Iraj made a rueful grin. Well, we know where the wars came from, he said. He tapped his chest to indicate himself. As for the other things, they could be naturally caused."

  "I don't think so, Safar said. He told him of his investigations into Hadin. And he told him of the sorcerous worm he encountered in Kyshaat.

  When he was done, Iraj said, I've thought of that night on the mountain many times. And of your vision afterwards. I'm no seer like yourself, my friend. But I'll tell you what I think it was all about.

  "Perhaps something did happen in far off Hadin. Personally, I think it was a sign from the heavens. A sign that fits perfectly into your other visions about me and Alisarrian.

  "I truly believe the world is at a crossroads. In one direction lies disaster, although what that disaster entails I cannot say. In the other, hope and a bright future."

  Again he tapped his chest. And I am that hope and future. Once I succeed, all will be set right again."

  "I pray you're right, Safar said. I plan to do all in my powers to see you have the chance to prove it."

  Iraj laughed. Well said, my brother. Together we will conquer all. Nothing can stand in our way."

  Safar's answer was a smile. But he was thinking, there's still the demons, Iraj. There's still the demons.

  ****

  The following day Safar made his farewells to the circus. He plumped a bag of gold into Biner's hand. It was so heavy it caught the muscular dwarf by surprise and he nearly dropped it.