Comug, the chief slave administrator of the House of Hodamoc, did not like to disturb his Master unless it was absolutely necessary. For one thing, the General often took out his irritation on the slaves closest to him, although he regretted it later. When you've spent hours in pain or are bleeding from terrible wounds, a sincere apology isn't all that appreciated.
Still, this had to be done. He knocked on the door of the Master's study, then waited patiently.
"Yes? What is it?" Hodamoc snapped irritatedly.
"Comug, Master. A thousand apologies, but there is someone here who demands an audience with you."
The door had not opened. "Did you say demands? Who is this who demands anything of me?"
"A magician, Master. Third Rank by his garb. He says his name is Dorion and that he is an urgent messenger from Yobi. It was because of this last that I dared to disturb you."
For a moment there was no reply. Suddenly the door flew open, and the General, looking more puzzled than angry, stood there. Comug bowed slightly and just waited, being one of the few slaves who did not prostrate him or herself in the Master's presence. Since he dealt with the Master on a day-to-day basis it would be rather impractical.
"Yobi ..." Hodamoc mused. "What the hell does that crazy old bag want of me?" He sighed. "Still, she's Second Rank. It wouldn't do to piss her off without first hearing her out. Very well, Comug. Alert the House Magician and Security. If they clear him I will see him, but you can never be too careful about his type."
"Master, he is as he says. Several of the slaves have seen him before in the bazaars and he is not completely unknown. He is a permanent resident and exile and does often do errands for Yobi. Had I not already checked on this I would never have allowed him even this far."
The General nodded, subdued. After all, that was why Comug was around in the first place and held the position he did.
"All right, then—show him up."
Dorion was not the sort of fellow to inspire awe and terror. Of medium height, perhaps five nine or ten to Hodamoc's six three, he was stocky, a bit chubby, with a pleasant, cherubic face that he'd attempted unsuccessfully to harden by growing a far too thin and wispy beard and moustache. His long reddish brown hair was thin and stringy and had vanished on top to a fair degree, giving him a monklike appearance enhanced by the rumpled wool earth-brown robe he wore. His deep blue eyes had that glazed look so common to magicians, and while he moved with confidence it seemed as if he were seeing by some method other than the usual sight. He had one of those brassy magician's baritones, though, which in incantations and spells might well sound commanding and authoritative but which in normal conversation often sounded either insincere or shrill.
Dorion bowed slightly. "Your Excellency, I bring you greetings from Yobi of the Sarcin Caves. I am Dorion, formerly of Masalur, a humble magician surviving here by doing services for others."
"An errand boy, you mean," the General responded, unimpressed. "Very well—you asked for my time and while I cannot spare it at the moment I am willing to grant an audience, so have done with it and dispense with the flowery and meaningless rhetoric if you have not lost your capacity for speaking plainly."
Dorion gave a weak smile and shrugged. "Very well, then. Someone important to Yobi was waylaid first by some rebel force that tried to penetrate the river valley and then in its aftermath was taken by raiders from Shorm. They were brought here, auctioned to the high bidder, and enslaved. You were the high bidder, Excellency, and you have her. Yobi wants her back."
The General's eyebrows rose. "Indeed? You mean that pretty little whore?"
"Courtesan, Excellency. She is of some importance to Yobi, although I do not know the reason for it. Very important. Yobi understands your expense and is willing to be quite generous to regain her."
"The expense is irrelevant. She is a possession, part of my collection here. She was dear enough to buy in the first place; now you have added value to her. I collect, sir. I do not sell my collection."
Dorion cleared his throat a bit nervously. "Excellency, you know full well that while Yobi is of necessity banished to this place she nonetheless is a sorceress of great power and, in fact, some influence among the Second Rank. While she rarely gets involved in the affairs of the Kudaan, she can offer things of great value, and she is of the same sort of mind as Your Excellency regarding those things which she considers hers by right."
The General had to stifle a grin. It was the nicest and pleasantest threat he had ever received.
"And you, Sir Magician, know full well that the girl is bonded to me by blood and relics. I am not saying that you couldn't take her, but if she violated my will and left these grounds even involuntarily and could not get back she would simply die and leave you with nothing. Your Yobi might break that spell but only with full rituals, and she would never survive to get to those rituals. An attempt on me is also fruitless. I am protected from much by powers as great as your Yobi's, and even if you succeeded in a more conventional way I have no heirs. Upon my death my slaves will destroy all this, and then themselves, although even they do not know this. We have nothing further to talk about."
Again the magician did his nervous throat-clearing. "Uh, pardon, Excellency, but as a humble middleman I can but see two sides of equal will and determination. You are a soldier and great leader. A thousand pardons for bringing this up, but you exist outside your natural element here, in the Wastes, in relative comfort of exile I admit, but not as you would wish or should be. With Yobi it is different. She is no longer purely Akhbreed by the one power none can withstand. But neither is she retired. Are you truly content being retired here in the Wastes? If so, we can go no further."
The General sat back in his chair. "Just what do you have in mind?"
"As I am sure you are aware, Warog, the Imperial Akhbreed Sorcerer, is now so mad that he is beyond much of this world and, as is the eventual fate of all such powers, has become obsessed with the next world. It would take very little to push him completely over and remove him from the scene, but so wild and insane are his tempers now that only one of the Second Rank can even dare contact him. His acolytes are ruined as successors by this, so should he decide to seek First Rank status his position would become vacant. The number of Second Rank sorcerers capable of assuming the post and interested in it are quite limited. Should the successor be friendly to your own interests, it might fill in your one missing factor. Or, of course, it might well be someone inimical to your interests, in which case you will enjoy a permanent retirement."
The General stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You're saying that Yobi can push old Warog out of the picture and put a friendly young new fellow in the post who might be dissatisfied with the current political arrangement? Is that what you're saying? And all that trouble and work for a mere little whore?"
"I am but a messenger but I believe Your Excellency has at least a basic grasp of the message."
General Hodamoc sighed. "Well, first of all it brings up a sense of disbelief. I find it next to impossible to believe that Yobi or anyone else could pull it all off. But assuming against my better judgment and belief that this could be done, it brings up the question of just what makes this piece of fluff worth such work. You face me then with a problem, sir. If I give her to you, I must take on faith that all you say can and will be done. Not doubting that the old girl thinks she can do it, belief and accomplishment are two very different things. I know that well. It is why I'm stuck here. On the other hand, you have demonstrated that I own something of great value. If she is of great value to your mistress, then she is most certainly of great value to others. I believe I should see who else is offering something for her, then, perhaps of more certain value."
"That would be a mistake, Excellency," Dorion warned him in the same casual tone he'd used up to now. "One of your greatness should not make two grave mistakes in a lifetime. This is the business of sorcery, not practical men. Not merely Yobi but other high-ranking Akhbreed sorcere
rs are involved. Your protections come from Warog in better, earlier times, and they are formidable, but to have more than one of the Second Rank angered at you . . . Well, it would not be a clever thing for so brilliant a man to depend too heavily on those protections, particularly without Warog in his prime to back them up."
The General stood up straight. "You dare threaten me in my own house, in my own lands, in my own office?" he roared.
Sometimes the power of magicians stems not only from their supernatural abilities but also from their simple, nonmagical craft side. Having removed a small vial from a hidden pocket in his robe sleeve, Dorion deftly uncorked it without dropping that cork and even as he spoke to the General he turned the vial over and let its powdery contents fall to the floor of the office. The vial was then recorked and replaced in its hidden pocket, all in a matter of seconds, all in plain view, and all, thanks to manipulative skill alone, without the General seeing any of it.
"I do not threaten, Excellency, nor does Yobi. But this affair goes far beyond your own ambitions and interests, and involves the most powerful of people. I came here, unarmed and without rancor or malice or any evil intent, to convey to you an honest offer. My part is as an honest messenger only and that I have fulfilled. By your leave, Excellency, I will return and convey your sentiments honestly and truly to those who sent me. My part is now done."
General Hodamoc was having a hard time controlling his temper, but he felt he dealt from a position of power in this matter and the cooler part of his mind told him that it would not do to harm this insolent bastard. That would create a pretext for immediate retaliation by Yobi, and right now he needed time, both to find out just what was so important about this girl and to prepare defenses against whatever magic might ultimately be directed his way. He was of the Akhbreed blood royal, and even as an outcast and exile with a price on his head he had certain special rights and access by virtue of that blood.
"You tell your mistress I demand to know exactly why this girl is important and to whom, and then I might discuss the matter further," Hodamoc told the magician. "I make no promises, though. Now—get out of here! I am about to issue orders that if you are ever on my estate again you are to be killed on sight, and even your precious little whore will drive the knife into you if she sees you!"
The magician bowed, touched his forehead, then turned and walked out of the office at a brisk pace. The threat to his personal safety didn't bother him very much, but it was best to be out of this place as quickly as possible for—other—reasons. Hodamoc wasn't the only one who knew of the mystic bond that might be summoned by one of the blood royal, and how much time it would take, nor could Yobi afford to allow the General even enough time to start an inquiry on the girl. The General now believed himself in total control of the situation, and it was time to disillusion him by illustrating his one major mistake.
Back in his office, Hodamoc tried to think things through. Assuming that even a small amount of what the fellow said was true, this little bitch was of some major importance. Why? Perhaps she carried information in her empty little head even she did not know. A courier whose recorded dispatch could be extracted only by one knowing how. That would explain the foreign soldiers chasing her, but it didn't add up. Yobi would hardly need a courier to send and receive any sort of message. Those top sorcerers just sort of transported a part of themselves and talked securely and directly.
A sacrifice, perhaps? She was quite pretty, but hardly a virgin and not of much use in that regard. Perhaps the daughter of someone important, bound to the courtesan life as a runaway, whom Yobi had been asked to find. That made the most sense. Someone very important, since she'd be a pariah to the bulk of the population considering her current state.
He needed more information. He had a slave, Pocasa, who was a pretty good artist. A good, faithful drawing of this girl would be of great use, perhaps with a lock of that long hair for magical and alchemical analysis. Many of the troopers stationed at Duke Pasedo's were of his old guard, and they were handy go-betweens. Yes, that was the way to start.
"Comug! Get in here! I have some work for you!" he shouted at his loudest, which was very loud indeed. He expected an immediate response, and when nothing resulted he tried again, "Comug! Attend me! Anyone out there—attend me!"
He got up from his desk, suddenly aware of how still the air seemed in the office, and how deathly quiet everything had gotten. The office was well insulated from the rest of the estate but it wasn't a sealed room. There were always distant noises, shouts, muffled sounds and vibrations that one never paid any attention to until they were not there—and they were not there now.
Suddenly the entire floor of his office seemed to vibrate as if in an earthquake, and he made for the doors and tried to open them but they were sealed shut as if welded to the frame.
He turned and there was the sound of breaking wood as the very floor in front of his desk seemed to heave and push upward. Realizing instantly that the magician must have left something he missed, something that guided a more powerful magic, he made his way quickly around the edge of the office to a small cleared area and stepped within it, then made a few mystic signs. On the floor, barely noticeable unless one looked for it, was a true pentagram, created at great price by a master magician, and sealed with the ritual he performed.
The timbers gave way with a horrible crash and up, into the room, rose a strange and dreaded-looking figure. It was quite large, larger in all ways than the General by far, and it wore a broad black robe that seemed to conceal some great and gross inhuman body atop which sat a cowled head. Long, ancient fingers with sharp knifelike nails reached up to the cowl and threw it back, revealing the face of an impossibly old woman, a skull's mask covered with skin and punctuated with more wrinkles than there were stars, mostly covered with dull purple blotches and topped with only remnants of long, wispy snow-white hair. The long, broken beaklike nose sat below two blind eyes, yet the head and eyes fixed immediately on him and the toothless mouth twisted into a caricature of a wicked smile.
"Oh, I see you know you've been naughty and have fled to the corner," the creature croaked in a voice that was high and cackling. "And, oh, my! What a clever little pentagram! But, then, you always were ninety percent brilliant, weren't you Hoddy? It's the other ten percent that's made you a professional failure."
Hodamoc was not impressed. "Well, well. The great Yobi herself, who it is said has not left her cave in a century. This is an honor, even if it is a bit hard on the floor."
The sorceress thought that was uproariously funny, and cackled over it for several seconds. "Oh, my, always good for a laugh at that! Come, come—you expected something like this, didn't you? We are a lot alike, really. Both of us were big in our chosen fields, both of us made one big mistake, and both of us wound up in this asshole of a world. The only difference is that I do not make such mistakes twice. You seem to be bent on self-destruction."
"This display of theatrics is impressive but you know it will do you no good," he responded confidently. "The pentagram insulates me from your power and your presence, and even if you should kill me it wouldn't get what you want. And I am not afraid to die. I am a soldier."
"Oh, can the macho man bullshit, Hoddy! We're not amateurs, you and I, and I'm no third-rate shaman who thinks she can scare the big, bad general with a lot of demonic show and tell. The last thing I want is you dead, although I can't be absolutely sure that it won't result. How's your heart, Hoddy?"
She reached into the folds of her robe and brought out a small, grotesque wax figure and held it up to him.
"Look familiar, Hoddy? Oh, I know you brave soldier types only play with toy soldiers, but us girls, now, we get to play with dolls. Seems like a silly and impractical thing unless you're going to be a mommie, I admit, but dolls have their practical sides in a lot of areas."
He stared at the doll a little nervously. "I assume that is supposed to be me," he managed, trying to remain confident.
"Oh, it is
you! I promise you that!" she responded with a cackle. "It has a bit of your hair and a bit of your nails and all that. No blood, but, then, I don't want you dead."
"That's impossible! All of my relics are destroyed or protected by spell and handled only by my bond slaves!"
"Except once. Bless you, dear, for being a total paranoid! You insist that every slave be relic bonded. That's smart, if you have a magician who can control an energy demon on a regular basis, but such ones are rare since those demons can ask a nasty price. But, you see, those demons can still be bargained with. They take your auric materials in with the relics. Not all is fused. Just leave out a hair here, a single small clipping there, and pretty soon you have enough to do some real mean stuff."
"Karelia—the bond magician," he sighed. "But that's impossible! She is held by a Second Rank voluntary spell. She cannot betray her trust without destroying herself!"
"True, true. But she's only Third Rank, dear. She's not the one who betrays such as you. No, it is the demon who betrays, by not digesting one tiny little particle and instead depositing it very nicely my way where it can do the most good. I was dealing with that demon sprite before Karelia's grandmother was born. I have priority." Yobi sighed. "So, let's get down to business. You give me the girl, and I forget all about this encounter."
He stared at her, defiant. "You can kill me with that thing, perhaps, even in here, but you cannot make me bend to your will!"
Yobi shrugged. "But, dear, I wasn't talking about killing you. Oh, no. Suppose I just pinch one of these cute little feet here ..."
General Hodamoc screamed in pain and dropped to the floor, suddenly holding his right foot. Anxiously, grimacing, he pulled the boot off and revealed a crushed, bloody mass where the foot had been.
"You see, dear? It's not nice to be impolite to old ladies," the sorceress said sweetly. "Now, what's next? The other foot, perhaps. Then the right arm, then the left. Then we can start on creative anatomy. I wonder what would happen if I pinched right here in the groin where the two legs meet the body . . . ?"
Riders Of The Winds Page 13
