Changewinds 03 - War of the Maelstrom

by Jack L. Chalker

  Boday remained as personal slave to Dorion, although the plump, sandy-haired apprentice sorcerer would much rather have had Charley around. At least Boday was also subject to his commands, although, truth to tell, Dorion just wasn't all that comfortable in the role of master. And Boday was just a bit too weird a personality even for him.

  Boday, tall and thin, now had a dark, chocolate brown complexion just like Charley, and for the same reason. Boday's body, tattooed from neck to feet, made her instantly recognizable anywhere and hardly somebody you could sneak through civilized areas. The sorceress Yobi had, therefore, dyed them both with an incredibly natural-looking skin dye to cover the designs. In Boday's case, it hadn't helped much. Neither did the fact that she assumed the name of Koba (and Charley was Yssa) so their names would not only not be obvious flags but also would match their new apparent nationalities. Neither dye nor a mere alias could hide Boday herself.

  "Your humble slave is desolate!" she wailed to him in private. "When will we leave this velvet prison and resume our journey?"

  Dorion knew well why Boday wanted to go. Early on, she'd accidentally swallowed a powerful love potion of her own design and the first person she'd seen after waking up had been Sam. It was incredibly strong; it had to be, since Boday often made references to one or another of her seven previous husbands, and its composition was known only to Boday. so only she could mix an antidote for it. And, naturally, under the potion, the last thing she wanted was an antidote or anyone else to slip it to her. She had even registered Sam and herself as a "married" couple in the Kingdom of Tubikosa, where it was allowed with disdain for the convenience of the authorities as a strictly legalistic means of straightening out inheritances, powers of attorney, and other such complexities that would otherwise tie the State up in knots. She certainly considered herself totally and monogamously married to Sam; how Sam felt about it Dorion didn't know, never having met that member of the trio, although Charley had indicated that Sam was the sort who liked it just fine.

  Dorion, as a magician, could understand Boday, but ones like Sam made him welt, uncomfortable, somehow. Boday was not a woman attracted to women, even now; she was just compelled by potion to be madly in love with one of them. But somebody who, without benefit of spell or potion, was still attracted only to members of the same sex was, well, creepy to him. He had known only a few in his short life, mostly men, and didn't know whether he was more disturbed that they were that way or that the ways to change that were available by spell and potion were rarely ever used.

  "We're waiting for a report on what's ahead," Dorion told Boday for the umpty-umpth time. "From here on in there's no choice of routes, and things are going to get tight and more dangerous than before, and before was dangerous enough for me."

  "Koba knows you just like sitting here eating and drinking fine food and wines and ogling all the half-naked slave girls, some of whom might believe your tales of mighty sorcery and battles, but you are on a mission, commanded by our true master to bring us to him. How long do you believe that he will like us being kept here?"

  Dorion sighed. She was dead right, of course, but the encounter with the Stormrider had unnerved him. Truth to tell, although his brown robe marked him as Third Rank, he really wasn't much of a wizard. His spells rarely turned out right or did what they were supposed to do, and he did as little as possible in that area. He also wasn't in the best physical shape and most weapons scared him; he would hardly have been his own choice for doing this job, and suspected that he'd been given it because, if he died in the attempt, it would be no great loss.

  About the only reason he really was thinking of pressing on wasn't any fear of Boolean or Yobi, but mostly Charley. Halagar had been more an acquaintance than friend in their youth. In point of fact, time had dimmed the old feelings he'd had for the man, but now they were brought back full. Halagar, in fact, was the kind of guy that boys like Dorion had hated. Handsome, sexy, debonair, the best athlete, the master of all he attempted, the dream of every local girl. Hell, even though he'd tested near the bottom of the "magically talented" group, he'd gone off to his apprenticeship mostly to get away from Halagar. '

  Halagar, on the other hand, had joined the army, risen rapidly in rank, gained position, then quit and become a mercenary and gotten pretty rich at doing that. Now, here he was. Imperial Courier to the King, and, worst of all, Charley had clearly fallen for him like a ton of bricks just like all die other girls always did. Hell, every time she was around Halagar she just seemed to melt away, leaving only a servile, mooning airhead. He liked Charley for her looks, sure, and he was as guilty as any man of looking at the pretty ones first, but it wasn't just the looks or even the moves, no matter how alluring they were. But he also was enormously attracted to the Charley who, blind and helpless, when faced with the monstrous, demonic Stormrider, had calmly figured out its weakness and directed its destruction. It was the strength and brains and nerve beneath the beauty that was, in fact, the most important to him.

  Sure, she was a slave and compelled to obey him. He could have forbade her making out with Halagar and in fact commanded her to make love to him, but he didn't want it that way. He was a sorcerer, at least of sorts. He knew how easy it was for spells and potions to substitute for what was real. To compel it was no different to him than going down to the low-life district and buying it. His mind and heart just had no craving for or even use for gratification like that. Magicians above all others prized most that which was genuine and real.

  It was the thing that puzzled him most about women, particularly strong and decisive women. They all said that they hated and detested men who treated them like sex objects rather than people and judged women by looks alone, Charley included, and said so often. Then they'd make real good friends with the kind of man who saw them the way they said they wanted to be seen and treated them accordingly, but they'd then walk off to bed with the guy who was best-looking and treated all women like sex objects and leave the guy who treated them first and foremost as people, the way they said they wanted all men to treat them, and who didn't look like a god but just ordinary. And then when you asked them why they were saying one thing to a guy and then teaching him the other, they turned and snapped and said, "You treat sex like it was a reward or something." Well, it sure wasn't punishment and it was sure a pleasure, and a guy who didn't get much sex himself sure couldn't figure why a woman would want to go to bed with a guy who acted all "wrong" and leave a guy alone and without sex who was their kind of guy.

  In the absence of love, sex was either a commodity or a reward, at least to any guy he'd known. If there was any other thing that it was, it was unfathomable to the male mind.

  Women and men sure didn't think alike, that was for sure. To him, Charley was basically sending the message that he was a sucker for not treating her as his sex slave and to hell with all that respect crap.

  The trouble was, while he got the message, he just couldn't bring himself to be that way. Halagar, too, had gotten the message long ago, and he sure was never shown any reason to change his views, either.

  Still, Halagar had been vital; Dorion had to admit that, even to himself. Were it not for the courier, his contacts, his quick sword arm and sure shot, and his rank in Covanti, they might not have made it this far. And now he was using the same power to get the information they needed to complete the journey that. like it or not, they had to complete.

  He sighed and got up from the comfortable divan on which he'd been sitting. "All right. I'll see just what's up. I know how anxious you are to go on, but the gods know we needed this rest."

  So far he'd been pressing Halagar for news; now he sought out others, the bureaucrats of me Court through which all such information had to flow, to see if maybe he was being played for a sucker in other ways. It took a little sweet-talking and a bit of bravado and bluster, but he finally wormed out the situation.

  First was the interesting news that the dogs had been called off of Charley. That alone was amazing
, wonderful news to him. Apparently it had happened many days earlier, and was now common knowledge among the underworld of Covanti, who had shifted their search to "a fat and probably very pregnant girl" exclusively. This took enormous pressure off; surely Halagar had known of this as soon as the word had been put out. Why hadn't he told them?

  Of course, the answer was obvious. Now that there was no longer any manhunt, or, rather, womanhunt, for Charley, there seemed no particular reason for them to hurry on to Boolean. They had become, very suddenly, no longer really relevant to events. That meant that Halagar could enjoy all of Charley's favors until he tired of them without actually affecting the course of history or even events, and without getting a big-shot sorcerer mad at him.

  Of course, Dorion's reaction at the news was just the opposite. His charge was to get the women to Boolean; now this seemed less an impossible task than a relatively straight-forward affair. Not even Boday was at serious risk; it was she had the love potion, not Sam. It wasn't all that certain that holding Boday hostage would cause Sam to do anything dangerous or foolish if, indeed, she even heard of it. indeed, now that Klittichom knew that Charley wasn't the one, the smart thing to do would be to facilitate their journey and do so in a manner that they would feel no reason to continue to be secretive themselves. That Sam was still trying to reach Boolean was a foregone conclusion; Charley and Boday, then, became valuable travelling the same road as bait.

  To have revealed this to Dorion, or even Boday, would have meant their immediate departure.

  Not that things were risk free. Covanti had mobilized some of its reserve forces and moved most of the regular troops from the colonies back towards the null zones. Rebellious forces composed, incredibly, of mostly colonial races had begun actual attacks on Akhbreed outposts and had also begun to marshall forces near the inner borders with the hub. The level of coordination was amazing; hundreds of colonial worlds, separated irrevocably by their lack of hub access to get communications or coordination between their various worlds still were moving as if under a unified command. Such actions were not merely dangerous, they were unprecedented.

  They were also inexplicable. No matter how many forces they marshalled at the null's edge, the armies of the Akhbreed could always defend the nulls with superior weaponry and in-place defenses, and even if the colonials gained a bit and managed to cross worlds; what then? They'd be cut off from their own supply and support, unable to blend into the new world, and would only present an easier target for Akhbreed forces to mop up. Without control of the hub, what they were doing defied all sense. And they could never control the hub so long as the Akhbreed sorcerers guarded it so well and so effectively. It was the hub, its circular shape so perfect for military defense and supported by the vast powers of the great sorcerers, the heart of the Akhbreed kingdoms and of the race's control of all the worlds of Akahlar. Without the hub, they could be deadly, costly, even inconvenient, but they couldn't really win anything except their own death and the harshest repression for their worlds and peoples afterwards. They knew this. Why other than mass insanity would they now organize and march?

  Dorion frowned. "Then is it safe, or even possible, to get through the colonies at all?"

  The bureaucrat nodded. "Oh, certainly. Their worlds need the trade from the other worlds just as much as always. It is their interdependence that gives us power over all of them. They might stop or overhaul a train, but except for Mandan cloaks and blankets and weapons, they take nothing and let the trains continue. Most, travelling with sorcerers and under strong military guard, get through not touched at all. I wouldn't want to go through that kind of colonial territory on my own, but in some of the bigger trains it's still as safe as always."

  Dorion thought it over. "Yeah, until the troops and sorcerers leave at the border and we cross from Covanti territory into Tishbaal."

  "Oh, this is happening all over, not just in Covanti," the clerk assured him, sounding rather blase about the situation. "In fact, it's worse in Tishbaal and they're thick as flies in colonial Masalur. But they seem impossibly well disciplined, and, while cocky and confident, they still seem to be letting most everybody and everything through. The High Sorcerers of all the kingdoms are in almost daily conferences over what it all means, as are the general staffs of the armies, but, so far, there's been no consensus. Your friend Halagar has been arguing with the King, advocating that we go almost to a seize mode and close the borders and shut down the trade. Right now, though, the economists agree that such an action would harm us far more than the colonials. I would be careful, though, my friend, if I were you. You are associated with Boolean and many of the monarchs and sorcerers believe that he might somehow be behind this."

  "That's insane!" Dorion retorted. "He's been trying to stop this! He saw it coming years ago and has been trying to warn and unify everybody, and nobody would listen to him!"

  The clerk sighed- "Yes, well, that's the problem, or so the rumors I hear go. He's had a hateful rivalry with Klittichom of Marepek for decades, and he's been trying to gain allies to defrock or destroy, or whatever it is you wizards do to one another his rival ever since. Klittichom has always treated Boolean with contempt but has never tried to get sorcerous and political action against him. Also, Boolean has been outspoken for years in his contempt for the Akhbreed way and consistently a defender of colonials, as if they were capable of governing themselves. Comparing the two's actions and words over the years, there are a lot of people who don't like Boolean very much and who think he might be mad enough or frustrated enough to have somehow orchestrated this just to force them to act against Klittichom."

  "But it's the other way around!"

  The clerk shrugged. "Perhaps. Consider, though the champion of colonial rights is saying that he is defending the system he abhors, while a defender of Akhbreed rule stands accused of being a mastermind that the colonials will die for. Which would you believe? Remember, too, that you are a sorcerer yourself and you work for Boolean. If you were a neutral party with only a stand-off knowledge of the pair, you might feel differently. Klittichom's domain is cold, poor, and remote, and he has done many favors for his brethren in the other kingdoms and never asked much in return. Boolean is in the middle of the richest and most powerful kingdoms on Akahlar and he's not been known for doing favors for anyone nor being particularly nice or even civil. You see where this leads?"

  "Yes," Dorion muttered angrily. "To Klittichom's victory and the destruction of Akahlar."

  Still, it presented him with several immediate problems and many decisions to make. Until now, he's never really understood how Klittichom could be so brazenly successful and Boolean so ignored. Now it was at least clearer; the Horned One had laid his groundwork well, being the wonderful fellow, the man with great power and knowledge who would always help, always share, and demand nothing but cordiality in return. Boolean, he knew, had a less than wonderful and outgoing personality and tended to lecture those who, whether they were or not, considered themselves his equals, and he had little or no patience with stupidity, nor had he ever been quiet about his contempt for the system. Now Klittichom's glad-handing was paying off. He was moving his forces openly, making low-level attacks and high-level threats against the kingdoms in the most brazen manner, and because they liked Klittichom and considered him a good-fellow-well-met who said all the right things, and they had a personality problem with Boolean, who always spoke his mind, it was the latter who was getting the blame and taking the heat!

  If this was really becoming official policy in Covanti, then if they stayed, they'd stay. Grotag, the chief sorcerer of Covanti, was known as a pretty genial fellow, but strong. Dorion knew he'd not be a match for the power in one of Grotag's hairs. He'd take no chances; he'd turn Dorion and maybe Boday into a pair of pet monkeys and give a re-enslaved and newly bewitched Charley to Halagar as his pet.

  Damn it, it was time to use what powers and abilities he had and get the hell out of here!

  He was heading back to te
ll Boday to make arrangements for their immediate departure when he ran into Halagar.

  "Hold, old friend! Where are you going in such a hurry and with such a wretched expression?" the courier asked.

  "We've been here long enough," Dorion answered carefully, "and if we're here much longer I'm afraid we'll be interned until the duration."

  Halagar shrugged but did not deny the possibility. Instead, he argued, "Would that be so bad? This is not exactly the worst place in Akahlar nor a bad place for withstanding a siege, either."

  "That is true," the magician admitted, "but I'm afraid that such safety would be very short-lived. I have been talking with various officials here and they have told me the, uh, political situation, as it were. They are fools to be taken in by a popularity act; the objective situation is upside down from their view. They are too safe, too fat, too confident that the way things are are the way things will always be and that no one can change that."

  To Dorion's amazement, Halagar didn't seem offended by the remark nor defensive about it as well. Instead he replied, "Yes, I agree. The massive coordinated movement of raw colonial troops who have theoretically never been schooled in the military arts shows much cunning and long work. One would have to be incredibly clever to have organized that sort of thing, and someone clever enough to do that and brazen enough to do that is not stupid enough to make the old mistakes. You only come out in the open to this degree if you've found a massive chink in the enemy armor. Still, what is the percentage in moving? What can any of us do about it?"

  That was a stumper. "Not much, perhaps," the magician admitted, but if a great war is upon us and if the power of the Akhbreed is so threatened that even the hubs are not safe, I think at least I would rather be with one of power who will fight to the last. Perhaps there is nothing we can do. Perhaps there is nothing Boolean can do. But, so long as there is a chance of anything I prefer action to complacency. I know Boolean, although he and I are not exactly on close terms right now- It is true he would not lift a finger to defend the system unless it was threatened with replacement by a system far worse or even direr consequences. Imagine a wizard who could control the Changewinds, Halagar."