by Allan Cole
He turned to the other wolves. “Am I a reasonable king, or am I not?” he asked.
The other wolves growled agreement that His Majesty was the soul of gentility and kindness.
Iraj grinned at Safar, dark eyes flashing with amusement. Golden hair and shapely beard beaming in a sudden shaft of sunlight.
"Do you really want to save Palimak, brother?” he asked. “What would you do to spare him?"
And Safar groaned, “Anything!"
Iraj nodded, sharp. “Good,” he said. “Now that we've agreed on a price, shall we start again?"
And he waved a hand and suddenly Safar found himself standing above a snowy pass. He was back in Esmir, high in the mountains called the Gods’ Divide. He could hear caravan bells jingling and could see a wagon train—Coralean's wagon train—winding toward the white peaks known as the Bride and Six Maids.
Iraj was beside him and he was young again, a boy of seventeen. And Safar was young too, with supple limbs and a heart like a lion's. Iraj pointed at two canyons that bisected the caravan track.
"The demons,” he said.
And Safar saw the two forces of mounted demons waiting to ambush the wagons.
"What shall we do?” Safar asked.
Iraj laughed, drawing his sword. “Warn the caravan,” he said. And he started running down the mountainside.
But in midflight he turned his head and shouted back. “Oh, I almost forgot. This time Palimak is with them!"
And he ran on, leaping over icy boulders, crying, “Follow me, brother! Follow me!"
Safar ran after him. Bounding down the steep slope, heart bursting, mouth full of ashes. He had to reach the caravan. He had to warn Coralean.
But most of all, he had to reach Palimak in time.
Except the harder he ran, the more distant became the caravan. His legs grew weary, his breath short. But he struggled on, slipping in the snow. Desperately fighting to keep on his feet. But then falling, falling ... hearing the war cries of demon bandits as they attacked. And it was too late, too late, and he could hear Palimak scream:
"Help me, father. Please!"
And the last thing he heard was Iraj laughing.
* * * *
Safar shot up in bed, clawing at the blankets, Iraj's laughter still echoing eerily from his dream. He was soaked to the skin with sweat and he shivered in the cold night air.
He could hear the low rumble of the magical furnaces that powered the airship and the fluttering of the balloons in the wind. But he didn't make the mistake of thinking what he'd experienced was only a dream and sagging back in relief.
To be sure, some of it was a dream: The wolves, Iraj, plus the repeated caravan incident from his boyhood.
He had no doubt, however, that Palimak really was in great danger. The atmosphere fairly crackled with a dark, brooding force. He had a sudden sense of looking into a huge demonic eye and seeing Palimak reflected in the surface of its iris.
Safar leaped from his bunk, hastily pulling on clothes. He rushed outside, buckling his sword belt as he ran. There were only a few crewmen about—the rest were asleep. But on the bridge he spotted Biner at the wheel. Safar raced up the stairs to his side.
"Where's the ship?” he shouted. “Where's the Nepenthe?"
Biner knew at once something was wrong and didn't waste time asking for details.
"About a mile back,” he said. “On the lee side."
Safar bolted to the rail to look. The seas were running like an incoming tide over a sandbar. Short, frothy waves speeding past; foam faintly pink under the bright Demon Moon. He made out the billowing sails of the Nepenthe just where Biner had said she'd be.
"Get back to the Nepenthe!” he shouted to Biner. “And get everybody up."
Biner went into instant action, roaring, “All hands! All hands!"
Other orders followed and the night crew got busy adjusting the steering sails as Biner muscled the wheel over—turning the airship in a wide arc.
The soldiers and the rest of the crew poured out onto the deck. Leiria, followed by Arlain, rushed up to the bridge. Professional that she was, Leiria was already dressed to fight—boots, buckler, short tunic with a weapons belt buckled about her small waist, a bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows thrown over one shoulder.
Arlain, who never wore that much in the way of clothing except in the coldest of weather, wore only a revealing sleeping gown thrown over her startling-beautiful body. But she was wide awake and prepared for battle. Claws extended. Sparks and smoke leaking from her dragon's mouth.
"What's wrong, Safar?” Leiria shouted over the wind.
"I'm not sure,” he replied. “Except that Palimak's in some kind of trouble."
Leiria didn't ask any more questions. She only nodded and raced over to the soldiers. Barking orders for them to get into position. The long days of drilling paid off and everyone moved like well-oiled clockwork. Within a few scant minutes, they were all ready.
Arlain's great eyes glowed in fury. She loved Palimak like a doting older sister. Both the product of inter-species mating, they'd been close friends from the moment they'd met.
"If anybody hurth him,” she said, “I'll roatht them in their thkinth!"
Safar only hoped they had skins to roast. Other than the fact that powerful sorcery was involved, he didn't have the faintest idea what he was up against.
But all he said was, “Make sure the boarding lines are ready."
Leaking smoke through her nostrils, Arlain hurried off to do his bidding.
Safar leaned far out over the rail, patience barely under control as they tacked toward the Nepenthe. Biner bellowed orders as they fought the wind.
Finally they were hovering directly over the tall ship.
"Let's bring her down, Biner,” Safar said. “But keep it quiet, please."
Biner nodded. The airship's best defense and offense was surprise. After all, who would ever imagine an attack from the skies? He signaled for runners and started a relay of whispered orders. The magical engines were cut so the only sound was the gentle buffeting of the wind against the big balloons.
Then, slowly, cautiously, the crew started bleeding air from the balloons and the airship drifted down toward the Nepenthe.
Safar peered at the shadowy deck as it rose toward him. He could only see a few small figures moving about. With the weather so mild, night watches on both the Nepenthe and the airship were kept to a minimum so everyone would be fresh in an emergency.
Everything seemed quite peaceful. The crewmen's movements were leisurely. And only the most necessary lanterns were lit—a normal practice aimed at conserving oil for the long journey.
Then Leiria was at his side again. “I don't see anything,” Safar said. “But I know they're there!"
Leiria remained silent, running experienced eyes over the ship and the surrounding seas.
Then she pointed. “There's something odd along the port bow,” she said.
At first all he could make out were eight dark, twisted shapes hanging off the ship. They looked inanimate, like logs of stressed timber with the branches still intact.
Then he saw thirty—possibly forty—other similar shapes bobbing in the ocean next to the ship. It was if the Nepenthe were sailing through debris from a lumber mill. Although there was no land for miles, it was entirely possible the cast-off wood had been carried far out to sea by a swift-moving river.
Safar wondered why the crew couldn't hear the ship bumping into the logs. They ought to be fending off the debris with poles before the hull was damaged.
Leiria said, “Did you notice how the ones in the water are moving with the ship?"
At first he didn't understand what she meant. But as the airship drifted lower he realized the logs seemed to be clinging to the sides of the Nepenthe.
Then he noticed movement from two of the eight shapes hanging from the bow. And it wasn't in reaction to the ship heaving through the waves.
Safar slid his dagger out. Whispering a s
pell of clarity, he cut a wide circle in the air. The area he'd inscribed began to glisten in the Demon Moonlight as if it were window glass coated with a thin film of oil.
Looking through it, everything became magnified as if through the overly large lens of a ship's telescope.
"What in the Hells?!” Leiria blurted.
Which was Safar's exact reaction. For what they both saw with startling clarity were devils’ spawn incarnate. Clinging to the sides of the Nepenthe were huge living creatures with bodies that looked like dead, twisted tree trunks.
He increased the magnification and could see that each trunk had scores of arms and legs with the appearance of fire-blasted branches and twigs. And each woody limb was pocked with dozens of small mouths, like leeches. And each mouth contained a long barbed tongue and was rimmed with several rows of sharp fangs.
At that moment Safar heard a chorus of clicking sounds, like an army of hungry land crabs advancing across a beach. It was apparently some sort of signal, because the eight creatures hanging from the bow suddenly swarmed onto the deck of the Nepenthe, while the platoon of beasts still in the sea scrabbled up the sides of the hull to join their leaders.
The air magnifier collapsed as Safar raced over to Biner to whisper the news. The were so close to the Nepenthe that the slightest sound might have given them away.
Biner signaled his runners and swiftly the word went out for everyone to “Prepare for boarding.” All over the airship the soldiers and crewmen tensed for the final order.
Safar hurried back to the rail, where Leiria waited. She'd drawn her sword and wore an odd grin on her face that looked like she thought something was amusing, but it was actually her fighting expression. He'd seen that same grin remain on her face during the bloodiest of battles as she cut down the charging enemy.
Before readying his own sword, he slipped an amplifying pellet from his pocket. He had to warn the Nepenthe. Unfortunately, that warning couldn't come until the last possible moment. Otherwise their surprise counter-attack would be spoiled.
Safar waited, nerves taut as lyre strings. Heart pounding against his ribs. He could see the first group of tree creatures closing in on the unsuspecting crewmen. The second, much larger group was starting to climb over the railing to the deck.
Then, as the ends of the airship's boarding ropes brushed along the Nepenthe's deck, he cracked the pellet, and shouted: "All hands! All hands! We're under attack!"
The amplifying spell made his shout into that of a giant's. The words thundered into the night and were repeated over and over again:
"All hands! All hands! We're under attack!"
Safar didn't wait to see the effect of his warning, but leaped immediately for a boarding rope. He caught it and slipped several feet, burning his hands. The pain went unnoticed. He only let go and plummeted to the deck, landing in a crouch and coming up swift as a cat.
His sword came out and he charged the creatures, some of whom were whirling about to face this unexpected attack from the rear.
Leiria was at his side, shrilling her wild battle cry.
Behind him, he heard the shouts of his soldiers as they plunged off the airship into battle. Biner's roar of fury sounding over all but Arlain's blood-chilling dragon shriek.
Safar felt incredibly powerful and fast, as if he suddenly possessed the strength of two men. He leaped for the nearest tree beast, his jump carrying him twenty feet.
The creature towered over him by at least four feet. Long, gnarled branches filled with gnashing teeth lashed out at him, but he slashed them off with his sword.
A greenish white liquid splattered on the deck, where it hissed and bubbled. A few drops splashed his sword hand. He could feel it sear his flesh but his bloodlust was so hot he didn't care.
He chopped at the main body, felt his blade sink deep. The creature toppled to the deck, limbs and branches flailing, all the teeth chattering wildly.
Except it didn't die! Somehow the creature fought on, lashing out with its deadly branches!
A shadow reared up behind him. He turned, knowing it was too late, but desperately striking out at his attacker.
Branches enfolded him, pulling him down onto the deck. They held him there, sharp teeth ravaging his back.
Then the creature suddenly let go, falling away and he rolled over to see Leiria hacking it with her sword. Leather armor hissing as it took the brunt of the spurting acid sap.
From far off he heard Khysmet shrill his battle cry and the sound of splintering wood as the big stallion broke through the walls of his stable to join the fight.
Then he heard Jooli's shout and the cries of the Nepenthe's crew as they boiled up onto the deck.
Leiria jerked Safar to his feet and they stood side by side as an enormous tree beast scrabbled for them, huge roots serving as feet. All its branches lashing out like thick, nail-studded whips.
The fury of its assault drove them back and it was all they could do to keep out of the way of its flesh-eating limbs.
Then Khysmet suddenly appeared behind the creature, rearing up on his hind legs then plunging down with his sharp hooves.
There was a crack! as the beast split in two.
Safar vaulted onto Khysmet's back and held out a hand for Leiria. She jumped up behind them and they plunged into the fray, striking out in every direction.
The Nepenthe was still under full sail and the ship's deck made a heaving, slippery battlefield. It made no difference to Khysmet who launched himself like a mighty lion, biting with his great teeth and raking the creatures with his hooves.
However, even with the entire crew and all the soldiers of both ships engaged, the fight was not going well for the Kyranians. The tree beasts simply wouldn't die, but fought on with undiminished ferocity no matter how many wounds they suffered.
Even their hacked-off branches remained deadly, whipping around men's legs and tearing into them with their teeth.
And the only cries of pain Safar could hear were human.
And the only dead he saw were his own.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
WITCH WORLD
King Rhodes and his mother were quite enjoying the battle for the Nepenthe.
Floating just above her golden-tiled table was an exact duplicate of the events taking place hundreds of miles from their own ship. Shimmering on her table was the night sea with the choppy waves, foam tinted pink by the Demon Moon.
A miniature of the Nepenthe boomed through those waves under full sail. Hovering over it was the airship, boarding lines dangling down to the deck. And all along the Nepenthe's deck were the tiny figures of the Kyranians struggling valiantly but hopelessly against the tree beasts.
They could even see Safar and Leiria, swords slashing this way and that, rage across the deck on the broad back of Khysmet.
"Oh, good show, good show!” Rhodes declared as one of the creatures swept Leiria off the stallion and onto the glistening boards.
Peering at the scene through the king's eyes, Kalasariz reacted with equal glee. Of all the many people and demons he hated, Leiria was quite high on his list.
He'd been unsure of the plan when Clayre had proposed it only a few days before. Now that it was coming to fruition—with the deaths of Safar and Palimak apparently imminent—he liked it so much he was beginning to become a little envious that it wasn't a plan of his own making.
As the battle for the Nepenthe raged, Kalasariz reflected back on the day Clayre had had her sudden inspiration.
* * * *
Stealing the ships was his idea, of course. It was the kind of sneak attack Kalasariz had mastered many years before when he was one of the three rulers of Walaria.
The pursuit of Safar was also his idea and it had taken all his cunning to convince Rhodes and Clayre this was a goal superior to their own.
The king and his mother would have been content to use the ships to launch a new invasion of the Kyranian fortress in Syrapis. Life long island dwellers, their idea of empire fitted exactly
the shoreline boundaries set by the Great Sea.
And so when Kalasariz offered them the world as their kingdom, they were at first hard put to stretch their imagination beyond the spit of sand and rock that was Syrapis.
Eventually his silky powers of persuasion had fired their ambitions. All they had to do was get their hands on Safar and Palimak—it didn't matter if they were dead or alive—and supreme power would be theirs. Power that even the gods might envy.
The only worm in the apple—and this he hadn't mentioned—was that he also needed Iraj Protarus. Kalasariz was only guessing that wherever Safar was, Iraj would be nearby.
One thing he was fairly sure of was that once he got his hands on Safar's corpse some sort of spell could be devised to locate his former king.
With Iraj in the spymaster's power, Kalasariz could rid himself of his two barbarian allies. And then he would rule absolutely. And alone. Once he had been content to share power, or even to manipulate from the shadows behind a throne.
But since he'd arrived in Syrapis to take up residence in Rhodes he'd undergone a spiritual transformation that quite excited him.
Kalasariz now truly understood that kings and allies could not be trusted—unless your boot was firmly planted on their throats. And the only way to assure himself of that happy state of affairs was to wear the royal mantle himself.
As for his plan, in the beginning the only trouble was that Safar would be difficult to catch. The Nepenthe had a head start of many days and it would require more luck than skill to corner the Kyranians. Once that was accomplished, however, defeating the Timuras would be simple. It would be three ships, all packed with crack troops, against the Nepenthe's puny forces.
Even the airship wouldn't give Safar much of an advantage, because Kalasariz fully intended to strike when all the Kyranians were on land, taking on supplies and water.
But to surprise Safar, they needed to catch him first. Kalasariz hadn't known how go about this, but thought it best to sail after the Nepenthe as fast as they could and hope for some storm or other accident to delay the Kyranians long enough to overtake them.
