by Allan Cole
Flying fish leaping high, as if laughing with the crowd. Grinning dolphins gamboling in the ships’ wake, playing like merry children in a watery nursery.
It was those people and those actions that kept the voyage from collapsing at the start. And although the cheer was short-lived because Safar remained in his coma, the closer they all came to Hadin, the more determined everyone became to complete the journey.
After Safar's condition, the main worry was Rhodes. Had he returned to Syrapis? Or was he lying ahead somewhere, ready to ambush them?
Biner made several long flights in hopes of catching sight of Rhodes. But the king and his minions were never seen. After a while everyone assumed that he had sailed back to Syrapis and that it would be their friends and families at home who would have to contend with him. This was worrisome, to be sure, but it also meant that Rhodes was no longer their responsibility.
Then, one day, Hadin announced its presence.
Normally, seafarers first become aware that they are nearing land when they notice subtle shifts in the currents. Also, the water color changes as the sea floor gradually rises, or a river makes itself known by the silt carried off by outgoing tides.
These things often present themselves many days before land itself is sighted. There are other signs, such as birds who normally live on shore but which hunt the deeps for food. Also, the variety of fish might change. Even more telling is an abundance of plant debris—floating logs with fresh branches still intact, or clumps of estuary weeds uprooted by a storm and swept out to sea.
With Hadin, however, the announcement was much more stark and more than a little frightening.
As they sailed, the Demon Moon sank lower in the sky until it rested just on the horizon. And there it remained for the remainder of the voyage. Only it seemed to grow larger as each mile passed beneath their bows. And soon it appeared as if they were sailing directly into its grinning mouth.
The color of the moon also changed from blood red to an eerie orange, giving the sky a strange and foreboding cast.
Next came the expected change in the color of the sea. Except that this change came without warning. One morning they awoke to find all the seas were painted a ghastly gray-white. The smell of rotting sea life was intense, coming from the hundreds of dead fish floating on the surface.
One of the sailors dipped up a bucket of water and examined the grayness. Although he didn't know the cause, a grizzled old salt said it was pumice—no doubt thrown into the sky by an erupting volcano.
If anyone doubted his word, they soon sighted huge gray hunks of the chalk-like substance—some as large as great icebergs. But most were the size of small rocks and they bumped along the sides of the ships making it sound like they were moving through a slurry of gravel.
Off to their left they saw a thick column of black smoke rising above the horizon and had no doubt that it was an active volcano—the source of all that pumice.
The fleet captains started to fret that one of the large pieces of pumice would damage the ships, possibly even sinking them, and they urged the Kyranians to turn about.
But Coralean put each captain under guard and forced them to go on.
The following morning the situation improved dramatically. For suddenly they sailed out of the gray waters into sparkling blue seas, full of active fish life. Then the normal happy signs of approaching land made themselves known—floating plant life, hunting birds and several great sea lizards swimming toward traditional nesting grounds.
And two days later, under a bright cheery sun, they sailed into a graceful bay with broad beaches and rich orchards of palm trees waving in a gentle breeze.
In the background of this idyllic scene was a towering volcano. It appeared peaceful, since there were only fluffy white clouds gathered about its conical peak. Terraced farms ran halfway up its sides, followed by lush greenery and then a sprinkling of trees near the top. A winding road cut through the farms, disappearing between smaller peaks.
Palimak was aboard the airship when they came upon Hadin. And when he first saw the beaches, palm trees and the volcano it reminded him of his father's description of the spirit world Hadin from which he'd escaped.
The differences, however, were remarkable. There were no naked dancing people. No resounding shell horns and harvest drums. And the volcano was far from threatening. In fact, it looked like a place where everyone had enjoyed a rich bounty of life for many generations.
Then he saw a group of about twenty people standing near the largest palm orchard. He borrowed Biner's spyglass to examine them.
The first thing that struck him was how handsome these bronzed people were. They were far from naked, much less painted, but their costumes were minimal. Short breeches for the men, with flower garlands decorating their bare chests. And tiny skirts and bright-colored breast bands for the women, who also wore flower garlands in profusion.
Brief as the costumes were, they were quite rich in coloring and design. It didn't take any ponderous thought to surmise that their brevity had more to do with Hadin's hot weather than with how civilized the people were.
A tall, regal woman stood in front of the group. When Palimak focused on her he was stunned by her beauty. Her costume was visibly richer than the others—more colorful and embroidered with what appeared to be gold and gems. A crown of fabulous flowers ringed her brow.
From this, as well as her bearing and the deference the others showed her, Palimak had no doubt that she was in command.
As he watched, the young queen made an imperious gesture and several men lifted large shell horns and blew. A loud but melodious note sprang forth. Both the shape of the horns and the sound reminded Palimak of Asper's magical horn Jooli had given to his father. The only difference was that no spell was created by these horns. There was only the lovely trumpeting music of warm welcome and invitation.
Immediately he rushed to the stateroom where his father was sprawled on a pallet, pale as death. Although he was unconscious, his presence was still powerful. Wild bits of magic sparking in the atmosphere as he twitched and moaned in his sleep. Caught in the throes of a living nightmare about whose content Palimak could only speculate.
He found the shell trumpet and raced back out on deck. There he planted his feet wide and blew an answer.
No magic issued forth, much less the Princess Alsahna—the Spirit Rider—on her magnificent mare, charging into the ethereal mist to confront the enemy. Nor had that been Palimak's intention. He didn't have Safar's power to master the horn, much less cause the appearance of the Spirit Rider. However, he intuitively knew that this was the best way to respond to the call of this island queen.
Palimak was surprised at the pleasing music he made as he blew through the horn. He'd feared that without practice the sound would be more in the realm of squawks and squeaks. Instead, melodious notes poured forth and when he lowered the horn he saw the queen and her court respond—pointing up at the airship in amazement.
"Take her down, Biner,” he shouted.
Immediately the dwarf bellowed orders. Ballast was dumped, the engines went silent and at the same time there was the hiss of air being bled from the twin balloons.
They descended. Floating lower and lower to the dazzling white sands of the beach...
* * * *
Palimak dragged himself out of his reverie. Important people were waiting for Safar's appearance. But first he had to explain his father's blindness to Leiria and the others. They'd be shocked, but he had to get them over that shock as quickly as he could.
Queen Yorlain was waiting and history stood in the balance.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
HADINLAND
Blind as he was, Safar made a striking first appearance before Queen Yorlain and her court.
Dressed in his best ceremonial robes, he rode Khysmet across the sands to where the island queen waited in a portable throne made of rare fragrant wood, decorated with exotic flowers.
Leiria and Jooli walked on eith
er side of Khysmet, their mail burnished to a high gloss. Palimak, dressed in a princely costume, led the way—walking several paces before the snow-white stallion.
Marching behind them was the entire Kyranian contingent. More than a hundred soldiers were spread out in ceremonial procession with Coralean at their head. Mounted on a tall horse, the caravan master was bedecked in flowing robes. Beside him, riding a dainty bay, was Eeda, who was also dressed in her finest. Despite her advanced pregnancy, Eeda looked lovely in her bejeweled gown, her face shining with excitement.
Overhead, the airship circled the beach, stirring music from Elgy and Rabix floating down to enthrall one and all.
Safar held Khysmet's reins loosely, trusting the horse to be his eyes. Once again he marveled at the mystical communication between horse and man. He only had to focus on a thing and Khysmet seemed to flow with his thoughts, anticipating his every need.
Although Safar couldn't see, Iraj's ethereal presence in his body made his senses doubly acute. Every sound was magnified, but not painfully so. Every scent was sharp and clear. The slight breeze fanned his face, making his flesh tingle with increased awareness of his surroundings. He also felt extremely strong and fast, his muscles throbbing with Iraj's added power.
As they approached the queen, Safar heard the murmurs of amazement from her courtiers. Deep inside, Iraj chortled in delight. He said, They know a king when they see one, brother. But what they don't know is that there are two of us!
Safar didn't need a signal from his friends to know when he was close enough to stop. The knowledge just suddenly came to him—and at the same time to Khysmet—and the stallion came to a halt, tail lashing, flanks quivering in anticipation.
He allowed a moment for drama before he spoke, turning his face this way and that as if his eyes were sweeping the scene. At the same time he soaked up the sensations, building a picture in his mind.
It was all too familiar. The sound of the palms stirring in the breeze, the hiss of the seas. The feel of the warm sun beating down. The smell of ripening palm fruit—and the distant, acrid odor of the volcano, mixed with the heady scent of the queen's exotic perfume.
Inside Safar, Iraj shuddered as he too recognized their surroundings, as well as the identity of the woman before them. He felt the quickening beat of Safar's heart and whispered a warning: Steady, brother! It was a warning meant as much for himself as for the man whose body he shared.
Safar nodded, then lifted his head to speak—centering his eyes on the place where the queen's sweet scent was the strongest.
"Greetings, Majesty,” he said. “My people and myself will be forever indebted to you for your gracious welcome to your shores."
He heard a surprised gasp, then graceful movement as the queen rose from her throne.
"But why wouldn't I welcome you, King Safar?” came a puzzled voice. “Don't you know me? Am I not your sister in misfortune? Have we not danced together in the Vision of the World's End countless times in the past?"
Safar gave a long sigh as answers to questions he hadn't even known existed came rushing in.
"Yes, I know you, Queen Yorlain,” he said. “But what I didn't know was that you shared the vision that has been tormenting me since I was a boy."
There was a pause as the queen considered his answer. Then she asked, “You mean, you have sailed from the other side of the world without truly understanding what was happening and what you must do to intervene?"
"What knowledge I have,” Safar replied, “comes only from visions, oracles and the Book of Asper.” He smiled ruefully. “Wondrous events and learned objects to be sure. But you must admit, none of them are noted for their clarity."
"And yet you came,” Yorlain said, voice tinged with awe. “Although you were blind to the world's true needs."
For a moment, Safar thought she'd seen through his ruse. That she knew he was blind, although he'd pretended otherwise. Instinctively, this worried him. He didn't know why, but he felt it was important that he keep his disability from her. But her next words made him realize she was speaking about blindness figuratively and that his secret was still intact.
"Please forgive my ramblings, Majesty,” she said. “I'm only happy that you've come at all. That we can look upon one another as ordinary mortals, instead of as slaves of that awful vision."
For an answer, Safar only smiled and bowed low in the saddle. The next question, however, brought him up sharply.
"But where is your brother king?” she asked. “The Holy Lady Felakia was quite clear that two kings would come to Hadin to awaken the gods. Two royal brothers and a child born of human and demon parentage."
Thinking quickly, Safar said, “The child you spoke of is now a grown man. And he stands there before you.” He gestured at the place he was certain Palimak stood. “His name is Palimak, my adopted son."
"And the other?” Queen Yorlain pressed.
Safar tapped his breast. “My brother is with us in spirit, Majesty. And at the right moment he will make his physical presence known to you as well."
Inside him, Iraj murmured, Excellent answer, Safar. But you always were good at turning a lie on its head and making it the truth. Hmm?
Safar ignored this. Evidently the truce he and Iraj had agreed upon didn't include insults. He still had no idea how he was going to deal with his old enemy, much less present him to Yorlain when the time came.
More worrisome—on a personal level—was how Palimak and especially Leiria would react when he told them about Iraj. Worse still, he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on the living horror inside him. At the moment, the only course of action he could think of was to delay the inevitable as long as possible.
Queen Yorlain said, “I pray your brother doesn't wait too long, Majesty. The time is near when we must act."
"I promise you, Highness,” Safar replied, “that we'll both be ready. There's nothing to concern yourself about as far as my brother's appearance is concerned."
"Very well, then, King Safar,” Yorlain replied. “Let us lead you to your castle. All has been prepared for the work you must do there."
Safar was puzzled. “What castle?” he asked.
"Why, the Castle of the Two Kings,” she said, mildly surprised. “Didn't Lord Asper mention that in his writings?"
Safar remembered the line: ” ... Know that Asper knocked at the Castle Keep/ But the gates were barred, the Gods asleep..."
He smiled. “Asper only commented on it indirectly,” he said. “But I think I understand now what he was getting at. At least in part, that is."
"Will you come with us then, Majesty?” Yorlain asked.
Safar hesitated. “What of my friends and soldiers?” he asked.
"There's ample room, Majesty,” Yorlain said. “Actually, it is a castle without inhabitants. A ghost castle, so to speak. No one has lived there since the days of Asper, although it has been kept in good repair."
Once again, Safar bowed low in his saddle. “Lead the way, then, O gracious queen,” he said.
There was a rumble of wheels as attendants led a light, two-wheeled chariot across the sands. It was drawn by a matched pair of magnificent ostriches, standing over seven feet high. Safar heard Leiria and Jooli murmur in amazement and wondered what they were seeing.
Then the queen mounted her chariot. She gave the signal and to the sound of blaring shell horns and rolling drums the ostriches started off, drawing the chariot after them.
"This way, father,” Palimak called.
But Khysmet was already moving, following the strange procession. Coralean bellowed orders and the Kyranian soldiers stepped out smartly.
"Do you see the castle?” Safar asked Leiria. He didn't remember one being here.
"All I see,” Leiria replied, “is a big damned volcano. Which just happens to be the way we're going!"
* * * *
Not far away, in the shadow of a small uninhabited island, King Rhodes and his three ships were drawn up in a little bay protected on three s
ides by high cliffs.
The ships looked different than before. Their hulls and sails had been painted or dyed a grayish blue to match the seas. The figureheads had been removed from the prows and all bright metal objects had been daubed with tar so that they wouldn't glitter.
In short, Rhodes’ pirate captains had ransacked their brains for all the tricks of their criminal trade to obscure the ships from casual view.
Even more effective, however, was the spell Queen Clayre had cast with the powerful support of the Lady Lottyr. The spell made the ships completely invisible to prying eyes, such as those of the crew of the airship that had searched for them during the whole long voyage from Aroborus.
The goddess of the Hells had also aided them in other important ways, such as ferreting out the intended route of the Kyranians. And so it was, that when the Timura fleet drew up at the main island a few short sea miles away, King Rhodes and his ships were already hidden in the little bay.
Even now, the king's troops were camped on shore getting ready for the coming surprise attack. Grizzled sergeants strode among them as they cleaned and repaired their weapons and armor. Although their rations were necessarily cold so campfires wouldn't give away the army's presence, the food was plentiful and Rhodes encouraged them to eat their fill and build up their strength.
He'd also captured a native fishing vessel and had tortured the crew until they'd been emptied of every scrap of knowledge about Hadin that they contained. The four men had then been turned over to Clayre to feed her spellfires and keep Lottyr satiated.
Now, as the Kyranians marched in procession toward the mysterious Castle of the Two Kings, it was Rhodes who saw the edifice first.
In Clayre's cabin, the king leaned forward to study the living diorama of the main island that shimmered on his mother's spelltable. He could see the small figure of Queen Yorlain in her chariot, leading Safar and his people up off the beach toward the volcano.
