by Allan Cole
"I told them everything," Kalasariz gritted. "Anything they asked."
Fari turned to Luka. "I think from here on he’ll be more careful with the truth, Highness," he said.
Luka nodded. He’d become calm. More measuring. "I suppose Protarus knows that you and I are not the fondest of friends," he said to Fari.
"I expect so, Highness," Fari answered.
Luka looked at Kalasariz. "Why does Protarus believe we’d choose each other to help hatch a plot?" he asked.
"I don’t know, Your Highness," Kalasariz said. "He simply gave me the message and ordered me to deliver it. In private."
"And that message is?"
Kalasariz took a deep breath, then plunged into it. "King Protarus sends his greetings, warm wishes for your health and said he hopes all will go well with you in the coming battle."
"He does intend to fight, then," Fari said.
"Never doubt that, Exalted One," Kalasariz said. "Protarus will fight."
"But the odds against him are impossible," Luka said.
"King Protarus guessed you would say that, Your Highness," Kalasariz said. "And he told me in reply that it was not unknown for the impossible to become possible during the Demon Moon."
Fari chuckled. "A lovely myth," he said. "I’ve heard it before, although it is very old."
"When the battle comes, Your Highness," Kalasariz continued, "he asked that you watch carefully. And if something should happen which gives you pause, to think on his offer.
"If you give him Manacia, he will give you his throne. He said he believed you would be an able administrator of the demonlands - under his direction, of course."
"I think we should just kill this worm," Luka said to Fari. "Kill him quick. And go about our business as if nothing happened."
"Don’t be so hasty, Highness," Fari advised. "You will note the message is addressed to both of us. He requires agreement from two traitors, it seems, or his plan won’t work. "Curious, isn’t it, that he also believes we both hate your father more than we dislike one another."
There was an uncomfortable silence.
"That’s it?" Luka said to Kalasariz. "He only asks that we watch, and if the course of the battle goes badly - from our point of view - that we consider changing our alliance?"
"Yes, Highness," Kalasariz said.
Another long silence. Broken by a dry chuckle from Luka.
"Ridiculous," he laughed.
Fari also laughed. "Ridiculous in the extreme."
"One other thing, O Great Ones," Kalasariz said. "Safar Timura - his Grand Wazier - commanded me to give you this."
He handed Lord Fari a scroll. The old demon unrolled it and examined the contents. After a time he lifted his head, troubled.
"It’s a formula for a spell, Highness," he said to Luka. "A formula that breaks the curse of the Forbidden Desert."
"Meaning the humans can cross as easily as we can," Luka said. "What of it?"
"It pains me to admit this, Highness," Fari said, "but I’ve never seen a spell so grand - a spell we worked years to perfect - done so simply. It’s really quite elegant. And it has the feel of something that came through inspiration, rather than from years of tedious experiment."
"Quick or labored," Luka said. "Why should it matter?"
"Oh, it probably doesn’t matter at all, Highness," Fari said. "Although I’d be derelict in my duties if I didn’t point out that only a master wizard could have done such a thing. A master wizard as great, or greater than your father."
Luka peered into the old demon’s eyes. Then he turned away. There was another long and uncomfortable pause.
"We probably shouldn’t bother the king with this," Luka said at last.
"I absolutely agree, Highness," Fari replied with barely disguised relief. "There’s no need to burden him with such foolishness."
"What about me?" Kalasariz blurted, not certain which way things were going.
"Oh, I’d suggest you watch the battle," Fari said. He turned to Luka, "Isn’t that right, Highness?"
"Yes, yes, that’s what I’d do," the demon prince said. "Watch the battle. And see."
* * *
Chapter Twenty Four
Battle And Flight
King Protarus quick-marched his army to the place of the Two Stones.
His scouts told him King Manacia’s main force was two days away. Protarus had perhaps fifty thousand fighting men, nearly all mounted. With these he would oppose about three hundred thousand demons, some mounted, most afoot.
On the surface these odds seemed insurmountable. Protarus’ generals told him so in daily meetings. They pointed out he had another seventy-five thousand men spread over his realm, keeping the peace. To this he could add two hundred thousand men who had recently volunteered to fight the hated demon enemy. If Protarus waited a month that number would easily reach five hundred thousand. So many hot-blooded young men were pouring in, begging to fight, Protarus’ recruiters were nearly overwhelmed.
"I mean to fight now," Protarus told them. "Not a month from now. A month is too late. A month is certain defeat.
"And we don’t have two days to prepare for Manacia, but a day and a half. I want him here faster. I want him here in time to settle into a comfortable camp. He’ll want to feed his men, rest them and then surprise us with a dawn attack."
"How can get we get him here more quickly, Your Majesty?" one his aides asked. "We can’t command Manacia to speed up."
"True, but we can entice him," Safar said.
Then king and grand wazier explained how this thing could be done.
* * *
The desert heat formed twin devils that attacked Manacia from above and below. The appalling discomfort made him angry and his slaves kept well out of kicking range. Manacia thought the gods were being unreasonable to the extreme. They’d determined his fate, hadn’t they? They’d decreed he would be King of Kings. If this were the case - and Manacia had no reason to doubt it - it seemed unfair and undignified to make him suffer so.
Angry as Manacia was at the gods, his wrath knew no end when he considered the pretender, Iraj Protarus. Manacia had heard reports that Protarus shared his ambitions to rule Esmir. How dare he? Why, he was nothing more than a dirty plains savage.
Manacia’s belly lurched uncomfortably with each roll of the elephant. The smells around him - beast smells, unwashed demon smells - were so thick it was difficult to breathe without gagging. The sounds were so chaotic it was impossible to think - groaning life on the hard march, shrieking wheels in the heat, distant cries of demon kits and the babble of their complaining mothers.
And Manacia thought, Children? How did we end up carrying children with us?
He twisted around and although he couldn’t see them, he knew there were thousands upon thousands of demon harlots straggling behind his army. He snorted, disgusted. Apparently he’d been in the field long enough for the harlots to breed.
Looking back, Manacia could see the Demon Moon, red glow smearing the northern horizon. Hovering above it was the lightspear of the comet. When the Demon Moon and comet had first appeared, the king had taken heart. He claimed it as his sign, the Sign Of Manacia. A demon king for the Demon Moon.
But in the weariness of the long march to meet Protarus, King Manacia had begun to curse that moon. It was always present, day or night. He felt haunted by it, as if it were a heavenly force driving him on to who knows where?
Manacia felt a stony clatter against his magical shield. He jolted around to face the south - his enemy’s lair.
His big demon head came up, yellow eyes drilling the far horizon.
* * *
The first thing Luka saw were his scouts racing back to his lines.
Next he spotted watery figures charging across the desert after the scouts. The figures firmed and became mailed horsemen - humans!
His first thought was, It’s so hot! How can they keep up such a pace?
His second thought was, By the gods, he’s coming!
Protarus is coming!
Trumpets sounded the alarm all around him. Action only needed his signal.
He gave it.
His demon brothers howled their warcries and charged, carrying him along at their head.
* * *
Fari saw the twister snaking towards him. It was six feet high, which became twelve, and then double that and then it became a towering, screeching force of nature.
All about him he could hear the fearful cries of his colleagues as they leaped from their wagons to abandon Manacia’s wizard caravan.
Fari ached to run with them, but he was too old to run and had to use his wits.
The twister struck the first wagons, lifting them up and hurling them in all directions. Fari calmed himself enough to see a human face staring out of that twister. It was many faces, actually, but the same face - a blur of sameness whirling with the twister. It was beardless, hawked nosed and Fari could swear he could see blue skies through eyeholes in the dust-and-debris-choked tornado.
And now it was coming for him, roaring his name, "Fa-ri! Fa-ri!"
* * *
Safar saw the old demon wizard and knew who he was. He called his name again, "Fa-ri! Fa-ri!"
He pointed his finger and Gundara hopped over to the twister and "pushed" it toward the demon wizard.
Tornado and demon were among many miniature ghostly figures spread out on the campaign table in Iraj’s headquarters tent. At Safar’s command, Gundara moved among them, towering over the living map like a giant.
Safar concentrated, barely noticing Iraj’s presence next to him, much less the generals and aides crowding close to the table. His gaze swept over the field, taking note of the key figures.
Not far above the destroyed wizard caravan was Manacia, clinging to the howdah as his elephant mount stamped its feet and trumpeted in panic. Demon soldiers rushed all around him, adding to the confusion.
Some distance from Manacia he could see the diminutive figures of Prince Luka and his cavalry of monsters charging across the desert.
Safar turned his attention back to Fari and the twister. He nodded at Gundara, who gave the whirlwind another "push" and it leaped forward to close the distance.
* * *
Fari caught the trick just in time.
He felt the twister suck at him, saw the whirling faces, heard them shouting, "Fa-ri," and looked down the whirlwind’s column until he saw its tail. It was a small, leaping serpent, no bigger than a demon kit’s wrist.
Fari saw in an instant this was where its power resided. He marveled at how such a large force could come from so little energy. Then he made a slicing motion with his talon, cutting it in two.
The twister shattered, showering rocks and bits of debris everywhere. Fari suffered only a small cut on his left claw. But he was badly shaken.
He looked at the chaos raging around him and heaved a long sigh of relief.
* * *
Luka took his fear and made it his courage. His battle cry was drowned out by his brother warriors, but it took life from them at same time, wailing out in a long single ululation that resounded across the desert.
They were almost on the human cavalry, which was charging toward them unfazed by the sight and sound of so many demon killers.
Luka saw a tall horseman with a blonde beard and long golden locks flowing from under his helmet. Riding beside him was a dark-featured man, just as tall but beardless. Despite the blur of the charge Luka could see the man’s burning blue eyes.
Those eyes were looking at him now.
The bearded man turned his head and caught sight of Luka.
Both humans changed course and charged toward the demon prince.
Luka waved his sword wildly and braced for the shock.
But no clash came.
Instead, he found himself shouting and slashing and jabbing at... nothingness. He whirled his beast about and saw his warriors fighting empty air.
The humans had vanished.
Luka blinked. But as it was fully sinking in that he’d faced and fought only his imagination, he saw a human - a real human, not a ghost - leap up from the sand.
The man cried out when he saw the prince. Luka heard similar cries all around. Then the human lifted up a long tube. Luka noted with dazed interest that the tube had probably allowed the man to breathe while he lay in wait buried in the said.
Then he saw the men load the tube with a dart, lift it to his lips... and blow.
The dart took Luka’s mount in the eye. The beast howled in pain, then collapsed under him. Luka rolled off, taking shelter behind his mount’s body. It had died so quickly that he knew the dart was poisoned.
He lifted his head and was amazed to see his human attacker running away. He jumped up to follow, but had taken no more than a few steps when he stumbled over a mailed body. It was the corpse of one his brother warriors.
Luka came to his feet. The ground was littered by many other demon corpses.
Then he came out of his shock and realized most were still mounted and uninjured. They were only confused, milling about wondering where their enemy had gone.
Luka saw the fleeing humans racing south toward a group of low dunes. They’d thrown down their dart tubes in their haste to escape an overwhelming demon force. From the dunes he saw a long line of horsemen dash out, each leading another animal.
The prince shouted for his fiends. He did not mean to let the humans escape.
Someone brought him a mount and Luka bounded into the saddle and led his warriors on yet another charge. But this time he had the enemy’s back to him.
Snarling as wildly as his clawed-mount, Luka closed on the humans. He was so close he could hear their laboring breath.
He dropped his sword point low to take the first man in front him.
* * *
"Now, Master?" Gundara asked.
"Yes, now!" Safar answered.
The little Favorite stomped on the table.
* * *
There was a deafening explosion and Luka’s mount reared, shrieking in fear, claws pawing the air.
A cloud black as night and stinking of sulfur burst up between him and the fleeing humans.
Monstrous forms, all frighteningly ugly, all human, swirled out of the cloud, gnashing and grinding their flat teeth.
Luka heard his warriors howl in terror and knew they were experiencing the same thing. He tried to call out to them not to panic, to keep going until they reached the other side of the smoke curtain. But no one could make out his commands from the cries of hysteria.
Then it came to him that he was alone.
All his warriors had retreated and he was alone in the sulfurous darkness, filled with nightmare forms.
Luka wheeled his mount and retreated as calmly as he could.
When he’d cleared the smoky curtain he saw his father bearing down on him on his big white elephant.
"Why did you stop?" his father shouted. "Why didn’t you go on?"
There was a thinly failed accusation of cowardice in his father’s questions and Luka hated him for it.
"The humans caught us by surprise, Majesty," he said. "It seemed best to regroup. Besides, it was only a small force, and most of that was illusion."
Manacia jabbed a talon at the ebbing curtain of smoke. "Are you telling me Protarus isn’t waiting out there?"
"I don’t believe so, Majesty," Luka answered. "I think he waits where our scouts say he waits. Near the place of the Two Rocks. This was only a diversion. He was testing us."
"Well, you’re a fool to think that!" Manacia snarled. "He’s out there, all right. I can feel it." He rapped his golden mail. "In here I can feel it." He tapped his demon nose. "And I can smell him. I can smell the human wizard, too."
Lord Fari had come up in time to hear the last. "Are you certain, Your Majesty?" he asked. "I too sense a presence out there. But perhaps it is only another illusion."
Manacia snorted. "Bah! I’m surrounded by fools and cowards."
&nb
sp; He shouted for an aide. "Sound the attack," he commanded.
A moment later the air was filled with the cacophony of trumpets and drums and booted feet and clanking mail as Manacia’s vast army poured across the empty plain, seeking humans to kill.
To support them, Manacia gathered his best wizards together, including Fari, and they made a mighty spell.
Boiling clouds filled the skies. Lighting cracked Thunder rolled. Horrible beasts, dragons and winged lions, raged across the heavens.
Manacia worked himself to exhaustion, forming and casting war spell after war spell.
Several hours passed and the first scouts returned from the main force to report there were no signs of even a small band of humans to be found, much less a whole army.
By now Manacia had collapsed on his traveling bed, surrounded by his wizards. He’d just heard Fari report that the huge magical hammer they’d created had been for naught.
After Fari heard what the scouts had to say, he dared to approach his king. "I think it is clear, Your Majesty," he said, "that all our efforts are being wasted. There’s no one out there."
"So I’m the fool, am I?" Manacia raged.
"Not at all, Majesty," Luka broke in. "Lord Fari meant nothing of the kind."
The old demon was surprised to see this unprecedented show of support from the Crown Prince.
"It is Protarus who is the fool, Majesty," Luka said. "How dare he toy with you? And such empty gestures. A few were hurt, even killed. But it’s like a flea bite on a camel’s ass. Nothing more."
Manacia was roused from his weariness. He slammed one taloned fist into the other. "I’ll teach him to trifle with me," he said.
Again, the demon king shouted for his aides. "We march for the Two Rocks at dawn," he commanded. "We’ve seen Timura’s magic. And it’s nothing. Now let’s see if Protarus can fight!"
* * *
Safar waved and the battlefield vanished. Gundara hopped onto his shoulder and quietly accepted his sugary reward. Safar turned to Iraj.
"Manacia should be good and angry now," he said.
"Good," Iraj said. He gave a hard jerk of his head. "Now, he’ll get here quicker."
