The Warrior's Tale (The Far Kingdoms, Book 2)

by Allan Cole, Chris Bunch

  At last I asked Gamelan directly. As always, the Evocator was straightforward.

  “Of course, The Sarzana has been trying to win my support,” he said. “He’s offering, once he’s restored to the throne and given full access to his former demons and alembics, to force a great spell against the other worlds, so that my blindness, both physical and sorcerous, will be ended.”

  Another question occurred: “All of us seem as if we’ve conferred on The Sarzana’s fate and agreed we are to help him, even though no such discussion’s occurred. That smacks of wizardry, and I’m not at all sure I like the thought of a spell touching any part of my thinking,” I said frankly.

  “I, too, sensed that. He admitted his subconscious powers have perhaps sent a projection, if that’s what it is. But what of it? I doubt if the man has sufficient strength to force such an opinion on all of us. My powers may be in abeyance, but I know our minds would rail if we sensed evil intent from him.”

  A thought came and went, one that I didn’t analyze until later: here it was again . . . again we knew something, without any firm foundation to that belief. But before I could say anything, something more important came to me: “What do you think he wants us to do, specifically, besides taking him off this island he’s exiled to?”

  “I’ve asked him that. He said very little, other than take him to an island group some distance to the south and west. These islands were among his earliest supporters, and he can use them as his base and rallying point. We’ll have to sail secretly through two others first, however, since those Konyan outer islands are not only peopled by rude barbarians, but garrisoned with strong ships of the Konyan barons, minions of his fiercest enemies. Once we reach the lands of his friends, we’ll be free to sail on our way if we wish.

  “As payment, he’ll summon a conclave of the group’s most skilled navigators and ship captains. Since these people are famous explorers, or so he tells me, he hopes that at least one of them will be able to help us set a true course for our home, and give us such magical aids as he can. He also vowed to help us see if the Archon still lives, and if so, to gather his wizards together to aid us in our fight. ”

  I thought hard. It didn’t seem we had much of a choice, actually, and the longer I considered the more sure I became. We could either continue wandering these strange and deadly seas until we died, or else provide this small favor for The Sarzana. And what evil, my mind ran, would be caused by our doing this? Very little, I thought, again remembering the great respect I’d first felt about The Sarzana. If there must be kings, and from all he’d said Konya needed to be ruled firmly, there could be no better being than him. Of course he’d be far more just and merciful than any conspiracy of greedy petty lordlings, trying to force all these peoples into the wretched near-slavery of the past.

  “Thank you, Gamelan,” I said finally. “Again, your wisdom has opened my mind further.”

  A day later, while taking a pre-dinner stroll along the waterfront I encountered The Sarzana. I knew it was no accidental meeting, so after we exchanged courtesies, and he asked if he could accompany me, I was most gracious. Besides, I was most curious to see what he would offer, which might indicate how well he’d gauged me. The answer was very well indeed.

  “You know, Captain, I have been speaking to others in your expedition.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “Then you also know I’ve been making some of them offers of employment, or discussing other ways I might be able to help. I wish I could do the same for you.”

  I said nothing.

  “But I’m hardly that much of a fool,” he went on. “I feel I know you quite well, Rali Antero, and consider you one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever met. Ruling is a harsh and cynical sport, and I’ve always believed that all men, and women, have a price. But you prove I must always allow for the exception.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I said, a bit tartly. “But I do know flattery has never struck a chord in my guts.”

  “I’m not flattering anyone,” he said, his voice ringing sincere. “Although I know it sounds it. No, what I’m saying, evidently quite badly, is that there’s nothing I could offer you that you do not already have.”

  I stopped and looked at him closely. I’m sure my eyebrows were lifted high. What, in fact, did I have? I slept alone, and felt that weight. The woman I once loved was lost and unknown leagues away, as were the handful of people I called family, Amalric being the only real one I cared about. Riches? I supposed I was wealthy with my share of the Antero lands and holdings. But here all I possessed was my weapons, my armor, a few clothes and what was in my warbag.

  A thought struck. No, even here I was rich, at least by my own thinking. I had the respect, the obedience and in a manner of speaking love of all my soldiers. What more did I want, save to serve them well, and keep that love?

  “Just so,” The Sarzana said gently. “If you have a price, gentle Captain, it is beyond anything I can pay. Which is why I wish to incur a debt from you. If I regain my throne, I propose to establish a Guard much like the Maranon women. Its oath will not be to me, nor my descendants, if I indeed chose to have any. Instead, it will serve Konya. I would want such a force above all small concerns of men and the day-to-day rule. I think such a unit might be a great force for stability. I wonder if its greatest strength might be that it cleaves to its own, as does your Guard.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean men who prefer their own, or women like your Guardswomen, or perhaps even those who belong to a single clan.”

  I was instantly seething. “Do you think, Sarzana, that we are what we are because of who we fuck?”

  “No, no, of course not,” he said hurriedly. “I’ve offended, but don’t mean to. What I’m trying to say is that I do not know what makes you and your Guardswomen what they are. But something deep inside says I must find out. Not just for me, but for all of Konya. We need to learn how to serve something greater than ourselves. And that is my request. When you and your women have returned to Orissa, and returned to your duties, would it be possible for me to send two or three of my most skilled ministers and one or two high-ranking soldiers I have in mind, if the barons haven’t murdered them, to spend time with your Guard? I warn you, they will ask the most penetrating questions, trying to understand what you are and bring that knowledge back to me.”

  My anger subsided. The Sarzana smiled wryly. “You see? Just because someone is . . . or has been . . . a ruler doesn’t mean he can’t offend by accident. Perhaps that is why we kings know enough to surround ourselves with silk-tongue agents, so we don’t say the wrong thing and end up starting a war. Again, my apologies, Rali, or, rather, Captain Antero. I shall say no more. But, when the time is right, would you at least consider my request?”

  My anger was gone, and I found myself feeling quite warm. I didn’t say yes, nor did I say no, and after a few more minutes one of The Sarzana’s beast-men appeared with a summons and the lord left.

  I stood looking after him. A most unusual man, especially for a king. A ruler of great nations, but a man who was still capable of making mistakes, and being embarrassed for making them.

  * * * *

  That night, deep in the dogwatches, I snapped awake. Nothing had happened to wake me, but I was as alert as if I’d had more than the normal four or five hours I require and a sharp round of calisthenics and a mile run as well. I dressed quietly, and went out into the village street. I stood indecisive for a moment, then started away from the waterfront toward the long stairs that led to the plateau. I came to the picket-line, and easily slipped past the sentry. She was alert, but the day I, or any of my sergeants or officers can’t be more cunning than our soldiers is the day we’d best consider sheathing our blades and retiring to a room lined with thick batting. I was breaking my own orders, but felt quite safe with my sword on my hip and my dagger sheathed at the small of my back.

  I went up the vast stairs leading to The Sarzana’s plateau as
far as the second landing, where the stairs opened again to the sky. The landing’s railing faced south, and I went to it and gazed out into the night. The moon was only quartered, but there was more than enough starlight to see clearly. Down there, to the left, was the harbor, and the black dots of our ships. Over there were the headlands we’d sail beyond in the next few days, headed away from the pole star. My gaze turned in that direction. At first, there was nothing but the darkness of the ocean, and perhaps a line where the horizon marked the sky and the stars began.

  Perhaps what I saw was nothing more than nightfires, or phosphorescent seas. Perhaps it was a vision. I don’t know to this day and think it best to let the reader, or even you, Scribe, judge what it meant mean, and I’ll restrict myself to what I witnessed with my own eyes. Fires began, low and spattered across the horizon, as if we were traveling across a desert, and brightly-lit cities were no more than a journey of a day or so further on. But then there were more and more of them, and I imagined them to be the lights of the Konyan islands, and knew the archipelago was vaster than I could imagine. Bright, and even brighter they shone, until it was if I was on a height far greater than I was, looking over a valley.

  The lights flamed, and then, from behind me, from above the plateau, came a darkness, far more stygian than the night, swooping like a monstrous bat toward those sea fires. It swirled and dove, and then, and this was the strangest of all, that darkness was joined by an even more greater gloom, one coming from above. The two joined and dropped, and it was as if a water soaked cloak was cast across spattered kindling, because all went quite black. No, my memory plays me false, for three or four lights flared, as if fighting that darkness, and then they, too, were gone.

  I stood there for long moments, but saw nothing else. Then I noticed a sea breeze. It was chill, and I wondered why I’d not felt it before.

  I went back down the stairs, past the guard, and to my bed, but slept no more, thinking about what I’d seen, without knowing what made it to be marked. I thought of asking Gamelan what he thought, but didn’t. Perhaps my mind whispered that something, once spoken, is known to all, but what is in your heart can remain safely a mystery.

  * * * *

  Cholla Yi decided we were ready to sail. The ships were fully provisioned, and both the sailors and my Guardswomen as fit as they’d ever be. Finally we did hold a conference about The Sarzana, if something so short can be called that. Mostly the discussion was about which ship he’d sail on. Cholla Yi, naturally, wanted the honors. It didn’t matter not to me, other than I felt a slight niggling discomfort at this great lord, who honestly I could hardly say I knew well, even though my guts told me I was a worrywart, and the mercenary admiral being partnered. When the meeting was over, we went to The Sarzana’s mansion and formally offered ourselves as his escort, volunteering to return him to his homelands.

  He was effusive to the point of tears, and behaved as if he were surprised. He swore we’d made a magnificent decision, and be known in history as the saviors of Konya. As for he himself, he could hardly find the words, and he knew that his descendants, and indeed, people who loved freedom everywhere . . .

  At this point, my ears closed, and I exchanged looks with Corais. At least there was one thing familiar about these lands — rulers still emoted noble speeches, full of grand words and magnificent gestures, speeches that went on and on and on. There were many ideas of what brave deeds qualified one for the Guard. Not the least was my own private one — an ability to listen to the biggest fool drone on for hours about the most empty things, while never moving a muscle from rigid attention and keeping your face bright and interested.

  But at last he ran out of kingly things to say, and made a most surprising request: Would it be possible for him to sail on the same vessel as Gamelan? A look of anger flashed over Cholla Yi’s face, and The Sarzana hastened to explain that he felt it his duty to attempt to restore Gamelan’s powers, and wished to be close to him, so their hearts could feel as one. Also, he felt it best if Gamelan was also on familiar grounds, the ship he’d been traveling aboard since leaving his homeland. After that, there wasn’t anything Cholla Yi could say, and so it was agreed.

  I expected The Sarzana to enship trunks and bales and cases full of everything from jewels to furs to magical volumes. There were but five boxes, and each of those could be lifted by one not terribly strong boy.

  Evidently The Sarzana noted my surprise, because he smiled, and said, “When all the world’s been yours, and taken away, you learn what matters and what does not. A man travels best who travels lightest.”

  The night before we were to sail, Gamelan approached The Sarzana, and inquired when he planned to fulfill his promise to free his subjects. I thought I saw a momentary frown, but knew I must be wrong. The Sarzana smiled, and said, “On the morrow. From the ship.”

  And so it was. Our ships had upped anchor, and sat rolling in the slight harbor swell. The Sarzana had insisted the foredeck of our ship be set aside for him, and on it he’d put up eight torches, forming an octagon. He stood in the center of them, and held his hands cupped, as if carrying something weighty. But there was nothing to be seen. He began chanting, but I couldn’t make out his words, nor, when I asked later, could Gamelan or any of the oarsmen or sailors forward distinguish what he said.

  I gasped, as I saw a torrent of creatures coming down the village streets from the plateau. At first I thought he’d invoked the ghosts of those slaughtered villagers, but then realized I was looking at his beast-men. None of us had realized how many of them he’d created, although we should’ve been able to, knowing how many servitors any palace requires. I couldn’t say how many there were — Corais estimated five hundred, Polillo thought more, Ismet less. Most of them still wore the odd court clothing The Sarzana had made them wear.

  The Sarzana kept chanting, and his arms moved further and further apart, as if what he held was growing. His chanting grew to a shout, and the torches flared and flashed myriad colors. Overhead, hawks, eagles and other birds swooped, and the calm sea frothed and dolphins and fish leapt high. He cast his invisible burden, the “gift” of freedom, up and out, and the torches flashed and died without ever a wisp of smoke. Above us, the formations of birds shattered, and the sea in front of the village was calm and empty.

  But there wasn’t any calm in the village — the beast-men had gone into a frenzy. They were ripping, tearing, shredding their clothing, until they were naked, if beasts can ever be naked.

  Polillo stood next to me, and said, under her breath, “It looks as if Sarzana’s servants maybe weren’t the cheerful volunteers we thought, hmm? They look pretty damn’ ungrateful, if you ask me.”

  I heard a snicker from Corais. “Worse than a mustering-out party after a war,” she said.

  I suppose I should’ve reprimanded them, but certainly didn’t. I still remembered The Sarzana telling us about the spells he’d used to “prepare the ground,” and again when he’d told us how grateful these creatures were.

  No one, beast or man, is grateful for chains, no matter how silken they are.

  * * * *

  The wind came fresh from astern, and we had no need to row beyond the headlands. As our ships caught the first ocean rollers and bowed obeisance to the sea-gods, and I smelt the clean salt air, we spied something odd: Sailing across our course, from headland to headland, was a flight of swans. They swam swiftly, white curving amid whitecaps.

  “Now, there’s an omen a’ good,” I heard a sailor say. “Th’ voyage’s bound to bring us luck an’ send us home.”

  I found my fingers crossing, and felt some dark hesitations that’d been growing the past few days vanish.

  * * * *

  We sailed under fair skies with favoring winds for almost two weeks, bearing south by southwest. Not only were sailing conditions good, but all of us, freshened by our time on land, were more cheerful and willing to work together, sailor as well as Guardswoman.

  On the fifteenth day after leaving Tris
tan, we sighted the first land. I was shouted on deck just after I’d finished dinner, and was teaching some of the newer soldiers how to redo the serving on crossbow strings, and heard the halloo. Without waiting on ceremony, all of us pelted on deck, eager to see what lands awaited us. I’d made sure all of my Guardswoman were quietly told what Gamelan had been told by The Sarzana — we were sailing into hostile seas, and must be prepared for anything.

  An island rose from the water ahead of us. There’d been heavy mist all that day, and we’d sailed close before the fog lifted and we saw it. The Sarzana was already on deck, on the quarterdeck with Stryker. I joined him there.

  “This is one of three islands,” he told me. “I’m not sure which, precisely, but it doesn’t matter. All of them are garrisoned by the barons’ forces, and their own natives are evil-natured. Our course is just as I wished.”

  Then he said, “Captain Stryker, if you will send signals to the other ships for them to assemble?”

  Flags fluttered, and the other ships pulled close to hear The Sarzana’s wishes. He voice was magnified magically, but it didn’t have the echoing, trumpet sound to it that such sorcery usually produces. Instead it was calm and soothing and as personal as if he stood near every man and woman. His instructions were we must bend on all sail, and pray we were not seen by anyone, least of all another ship.

  I went to the tafrail and watched that humped island sink out of sight as we sailed on. Gray-green, ominous, and jungled, it did indeed look menacing.

  For the next three days we sailed as if we were pursued. The Sarzana had cast wind spells to help our passage, but, or so I was told by Captain Stryker, was afraid of casting a foul weather incantation to cover our passage for fear his sorcery would be “heard” by some of the baron’s magicians.

  The Sarzana had changed his habits. Now he kept to himself in the cabin Stryker had given up, and when he appeared on deck made it very clear by his manners that he wished no company that wasn’t most important.