Wizard of the winds tott-1

by Allan Cole

  The skies shook with their roared approval.

  ****

  As it so happened, Manacia was pleasuring himself with an enthusiastic demon maid when the news of the attack came. He wasn't buried to the hilt, but he was definitely considering such an action when someone scratched at the entrance to gain his attention.

  Manacia tumbled out of his harem tent, buttoning up his breeches. Why do you disturb me? he roared.

  His aide gibbered, then pointed south. Forgive mmm-mmm-me, Mmm-ajesty! But Pppp-protarus is attacking!"

  Manacia's eyes shot south. It was dusk, but it was the eerie dusk of the Demon Moon, and the figures he sawhuman warriorswere cast large and bloody red.

  The demon king was no hysteric. He'd dealt with surprise attacks before. He calmed his fears and shouted for his generals to counter.

  ****

  It was a Jaspar blood charge. No quarter given, none asked.

  It was a screaming mass of horsemen, but not a man among them offered himself as a target. Each rode bareback, a thick leather harness girdling the horse's body, a slender rope lead to its mouth.

  They whirled about the harness strap, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, sometimes hanging beneath the horse's belly. As they circled their mounts, they fired a constant stream of arrows from their small bows, so many that the sound was like a plague of biting flies descending in a black cloud on a cattle herd.

  It was a mad charge, a charge where death was no consideration.

  Arrow swarms disturbed the dusk with their black flight.

  The screams of the demon wounded defied the desert calm.

  And then they were among the demons, dropping their bows and drawing scimitars. Slashing this way and that.

  They drove straight up the middle, nearly reaching Manacia himself, who was clambering aboard his elephant.

  Iraj led that charge. He was a monster soldier, a soldier who could not be hit when the demon arrows swarmed back. His sword was a monster sword no blade could counter, no pike could match, no battle ax could confront.

  He swept through the demon ranks. He was the arrow point, his men were its wounding flare, and the Demon Moon was his target.

  He drove through the massed soldiers, aiming for the moon's blood spot, then he whirled and attacked the other way.

  Iraj saw Manacia clambering on his elephant. A king-against-king fury took him and he struck toward his ultimate enemy.

  But then Manacia's guard swarmed around him, spears tipped with deadly magic were hurled at himcountered by Safar's amulet which he wore about his neckand Iraj wisely turned aside.

  He led his warriors out of the demon horde, doing even more damage in his retreat than in the initial assault.

  ****

  Gundara shouted, Shut up, shut up, shuuuttt up!"

  Safar broke in. Quit arguing with your brother. I'm trying to concentrate."

  "It's not my fault, Master, the little Favorite whined. Gundaree won't stop bothering me."

  Safar fought for calm. He'd learned from Methydia that Art and Temperament came in the same package. If you couldn't deal with the Temperament you had no business telling Art what to do.

  He offered some treats.

  "Here's two for you, he said, and two for Gundaree. And if you behave yourselves, and aren't greedy little Favorites, there'll be two more for each of you when the job is done."

  Leiria nudged him. They're coming, she said.

  Safar looked north. Night had fallen, but the Demon Moon was so bright all was clear. He saw Iraj and his menabout two hundredstreaming toward him. Behind them came Manacia's army. It was huge thing, a black plains gobbling beast, gathering momentum as it came.

  As Manacia had guessed, Iraj wanted the his enemy to come at him through the pillars where the main human force waited. If Iraj could squeeze the demons in from the sides, packing them so densely when they came through the pillars that they could barely move, the odds against the humans would be vastly reduced.

  Although Manacia had fallen for Protarus trap, the surprise attack and false retreat, he was no fool. The pursuit was orderly. Only one large group of demons, led by Crown Prince Luka, Safar guessed, was directly involved in chasing Iraj. The rest of the army was spread out across the plain, sweeping toward the humans in a broad wave so deep and strong they'd almost certainly be overwhelmed.

  Safar motioned to his wizards. They touched brands to a heap of desert brush and dried dung. It burst into flames, flaring out so quickly the wizards had to jump back. Then it became steady, returning to a more comfortable size, and the wizards started tossing special powders on the fire. It hissed and boiled, sending up a shower of multi-colored sparks. Safar saw a similar glow on the eastern pillar and knew Horvan had joined him in the spell.

  He let his mind slip down and down and then he was in a cold gray place with no top or bottom or sides. He called out, Where are you, Ghostmother? It is I, your friend Safar Timura, come to find you."

  There was no answer. Safar called again, Come to me Ghostmother. Come to me please. I am in difficulty and have need of you."

  Safar suddenly felt a presence. It was heavy and animal-like and smelled powerfully of cat. Then the grayness wavered and he could make out the faint of image of the old lioness.

  "I am Safar Timura, Ghostmother, he said. Do you remember how I helped you with your cubs?"

  The lioness whined, the sound coming close to his ear.

  "Will you help me, Ghostmother? Safar asked. As I helped you."

  Another whine. And it came to him the old lioness had agreed.

  "Thank you, Ghostmother, Safar said. Wait here until I call, please."

  Safar's head came up and he was suddenly back on the rock pillar again, the flames of the magical fire dancing and showering sparks only a few feet away.

  He saw Iraj and his troops had almost reached the gap between the pillars.

  "Get ready, he said to the wizards.

  ****

  Manacia felt a warning buzz of enemy magic bloom into life. At the same time he saw the magical fires burning at the tops of the rock pillars.

  The demon king gnashed his fangs in delight. There you are, Timura! he growled. I've got you!"

  He pulled back his claw, readying a soul-blasting spell.

  ****

  Iraj and his cavalry swept through the gap.

  "Go! Safar shouted.

  Four glass globes were hurled into the fire.

  Out on the red-lit plain four white hot explosions erupted along the western edge of Manacia's oncoming army.

  Then four more shattered the sky on the east as Horvan's wizards hurled their globes.

  "Again! Safar shouted.

  ****

  Manacia was nearly hurled from the howdah by the force of the explosions. He was momentarily blinded, but when his vision cleared his first thought was that it'd returned too soon.

  The explosions had punched big holes in his army's outermost wings. Other blasts followed and he heard screams of terror and pain. Then the wings started folding in on themselves as the soldiers on the edges scrambled toward the center to escape the blasts.

  Manacia shouted orders to make them return to their positions, but in the chaos no one heard.

  Furious, the Demon King's eyes swept up to westernmost tower of rock. He felt the presence of a powerful enemy wizardTimura!

  Manacia shrieked in fury and hurled his spell.

  ****

  Safar was ready.

  He sensed the pressure of the oncoming attack, and cried out, Come, Ghostmother! Come!"

  ****

  Manacia screamed an oath as he felt his spell blocked.

  His attacking spell backblasted and he struggled for a shield and got it up just in time. A hot wave burst over his magical shield, spattering his spirit with hot drops of sorcery.

  Before he could recover and strike again, he heard a mighty spine-cracking roar and a huge lion leaped out of nothingness and was on him.

 
Manacia grappled with it, and the lion's body was so cold it was like fighting death itself. He flung it away, and the lion tuck rolled and came to its feet.

  It was then Manacia realized he was fighting a ghost. He could see right through the creature and when it opened its mouth and roared defiance, the sound had the ring of the unreal, the distant.

  The lioness came for him again and Manacia dug as deep as he could into his bag of magical tricks.

  Just before the massive jaws closed him he cast the spell.

  The lioness vanishedreturned to its ghost world.

  Manacia sagged back, exhausted of all his powers.

  ****

  Iraj whirled his horse about and prepared to meet the demon onslaught pouring toward the gap, Demon Moon at their backs.

  They were packed tightly into a black river of warriors, but not as tightly as Iraj wanted. He signaled his flanks and the slingmen let loose, aiming at the edges of the demon column. At the same time the cavalry units charged in, backed by fast running ground troops.

  A heavy swarm of missiles fell on the demons, killing and maiming many. Another swarm struck, dealing out more pain and death.

  The human cavalry units slashed in, one from the east, the other from the west. They played a dancing game, darting in to savage the edges and darting out again before the demons could close on them. The ground troops struck immediately afterward, hurling their heavy spears, then grabbing axes from their belts and wading into the fight.

  Gradually, the demon column narrowed more and when it finally struck through the portal between the two rock pillars the warriors were so densely packed they were easy pickings for the humans.

  Iraj killed so many his sword arm grew tired, then his sword broke and he fought with a hand ax grabbed up from one of the fallen.

  He saw Luka, separated from his guard, desperately fighting off three horsemen.

  Iraj saw his three soldiers fall and Luka dash back into the demon ranks, a feat which drew Protarus cold admiration.

  Iraj fought on, raging against the demon tide.

  Then slowly the battle changed. The sheer size of the demon army finally overcame all its flaws.

  Iraj and his men found themselves being driven back as hammer blow followed hammer blow.

  It wouldn't be long, he realized, before his lines cracked. And that would be the end of his army, his dreams and most certainly his life.

  He chanced a look up at the western rock column.

  And he thought, come on, Safar! Come on!

  ****

  Safar readied his Grand Illusion.

  It was the last weapon in his magical quiver.

  He had no time to admire his father's artistry as he cast the spell that sent the fleet aloft.

  ****

  Luka's fighting hopes were at their highest.

  They were through the gap now and his army was spreading out, leaving themselves more room to use their weapons against the humans.

  Luka could feel the enemy crumbling before him. One more hard effort, no more than two, and victory would be his.

  Then, even above the noise of battle, he heard a murmur running through his troops, followed by collective gasps and cries of alarm. He saw several fiends pointing talons in wonder at the red-lit sky.

  He looked up and it was all he could do not to gasp himself.

  Sky borne warships were hurtling across the heavens to join the battle. They were the strangest vessels Luka had ever seenfighting ships, suspended under big balloons, all crammed with warriors bearing spears with glowing tips. He couldn't tell what size they were. The ships seemed small and so he assumed they were at a great height. But certainly they were large enough to hold hundreds of warriors.

  Then the ships were overhead and those warriors were hurling their spears into the demon masses. The spears grew before his eyes as they fell, each becoming easily as large as a tall demon.

  They struck like lightning, glowing tips exploding, sending out great sheets of flame.

  Another wave of spears hit. Then another. Blasting holes into the demon ranks. Filling the air with thunder and the smell of sulfur.

  Then the demon army lost its nerve.

  Luka could feel it, feel the fire go out of his warriors, smell the acrid stench of their fear.

  They turned and ran. First a trickle, then a stream, then a full-sized river of shrieking demons, throwing down their weapons, shedding their armor and running over their own comrades to escape the horror from the skies.

  Luka ran with them, spurring his mount to keep up. He wasn't running out of fear, although he was certainly frightened enough. He was racing to keep up, shouting for calm and order, doing his best to contain the rout.

  Behind him he could hear the crack and thunder of the flying ships.

  And the howls of Protarus pursuing army.

  ****

  Hours passed before Manacia restored order. But when he did the best he could manage was to wheel his forces about and set up a fortified camp.

  In the distance Protarus paused and set up a camp of his own.

  "The fight isn't over yet, Manacia railed, striding about his command tent, kicking and clubbing any slave who got in his way. He can't stand up to me again. I'll hammer him into dust!"

  ****

  Iraj paced his command tent, but his pace was measured, his manner calm.

  "I hope we don't have to fight him again, he said to Safar. If we do, it'll be out in the open on ground of his choosing. He won't fall for our tricks again."

  "I suppose this where luck comes in, Safar said.

  Iraj paused, considering, then nodded. Yes, he said. Now we get to see how lucky we really are."

  ****

  "He's lucky, that's all, Manacia said, voice still shaking with fury. Moreover, he was aided and abetted by cowards in my own court."

  Luka, who'd been listening as patiently as possible, turned cold.

  "What is it you are suggesting, Majesty? he asked, not bothering to hide his anger.

  Manacia turned on him. I'm not suggesting anything, he said. It's clear enough my son is a coward, who leads a band of cowardly fiends."

  "Ah! Luka said as if he'd suddenly made a great discovery. You intend to blame me, is that it?"

  "You've shamed me, Manacia said. But I'll not hide that shame. Fault will be directed at its source, no matter if that source is my son and heir."

  Luka came closer, as if to appeal for reason.

  Instead he said, Father, tell me about the time my mother accused you of rape. It's such a humorous incident it will give us all good cheer."

  Manacia frowned. What's wrong with you? he snapped. This is no time for humor."

  "Oh, but it is, father, Luka insisted. This is the very kind of situation that does call for humor."

  Manacia drew himself up for another angry bellow.

  But Luka quickly drew his sword and cut the bellow off at its source.

  He watched his father's headless body flop to the floor.

  Luka turned to the others, calmly wiping his blade.

  "Any objections? he demanded.

  The generals and aides were frozen, gaping at this turn of events.

  Fari was the first to speak. Not at all, Your Majesty, he said.

  Stiffly and with much joint cracking he lowered his aged bulk to its knees.

  "Long live King Luka! he cried.

  The generals followed his lead, dropping to the ground and abasing themselves and shouting, Long Live King Luka!"

  Luka peered at his father's head, eyes open and staring.

  "What's wrong, father? he asked. You're not laughing!"

  ****

  Some weeks later Iraj crossed the Forbidden Desert, leading a grand victory procession down the road to Zanzair.

  Kalasariz had carried Luka's surrender terms to Protarus and acted as a go-between in the ensuing discussions. The demon army was broken up into small groups and sent home. Luka offered himself as hostage, sending Fari back to Za
nzairManacia's head stored in iceto arrange for Iraj's arrival.

  To Safar's displeasure Kalasariz was rewarded with much gold and a high position on Iraj's staff. Safar advised his king against it, but Iraj had brushed off his advice, saying there was always a desperate need for good spies.

  At last the day arrived when the gates of Zanzair came into view.

  They were marching along a misty highway, banners fluttering, drums rapping time.

  Iraj rode Manacia's great war elephant, Safar at his side. A large flag made of fine Sampitay silk hung from the howdah. On it was the Crest of The Conqueror, the red Demon Moon and silver comet.

  But it was no longer Alisarrian's flag. Iraj had claimed it as his own.

  In a week an elaborate ceremony would be staged in Manacia's former palace. Dignitaries, both human and demon, would crowd the grand throneroom and humble themselves before Protarus.

  There he would be declared King of Kings, supreme monarch of all Esmir.

  The breeze stiffened and Safar saw the mist lift. Directly ahead were the gates of Zanzair.

  "Look! Iraj said, excited as a child. We're almost there."

  Hanging from a post above the gates was Manacia's gory head.

  The gates swung open and an enormous crowd of demons poured out to hail their new king. Iraj waved a mailed hand in return.

  The demon cries became wilder, chanting: Protarus! Protarus! Protarus!"

  Iraj turned to Safar, a broad smile on his face.

  "My friend, he said. I owe all this to you."

  Then the smile became a loud laugh of surprise.

  "I said that in the vision, didn't I? he reminded Safar.

  "Or something close enough to it, Safar answered.

  Iraj clapped him on the back. And it's all come true, he said. Everything you predicted."