by Jon F. Merz
“Some of my teachers would probably tell you that they’re convinced I’ve learned nothing in my time with them.” He shrugged. “But the truth of the situation is this: there’s no point in doing anything rash at this point. We need to see what type of man this Kan-Gul is and what he’s done with our friends. If there is action to be taken, it will be only if we’re in immediate danger.”
“I hope you’re right about this.”
Me, too, thought Ran.
The warriors suddenly stopped marching and fell silent. The one who had addressed Ran stepped closer to the fortress wall and placed his withered gray hand on the smooth surface and uttered something unintelligible. Ran could make no sense of the words, but the effect of the utterance was immediate.
The smooth surface instantly slid back and in, revealing a secret entrance to the castle, one no doubt guarded by powerful magic. Ran glanced at Jysal. “Apparently, there is more than one way into the castle.”
“What did that thing say?”
Ran shrugged. “I have no idea. Aren’t you supposed to be the sorceress in training? I assumed you all spoke the same language.”
“Don’t be daft,” said Jysal. “Magic isn’t some universal tongue. There are as many different types and varieties as there are people in the great lands. What works for one sorcerer may not work for another. Each type of magic is unique.”
“Apparently,” said Ran. He had little trust in such things anyway. He trusted his training and his cunning a lot more than he did the arcane words spoken by mages and warlocks. But even he had to admit that the sudden appearance of the entryway was impressive.
Kan-Gul was probably trying to manipulate them psychologically. If they were impressed with his magic before they even met, then that would put them on an unequal level. Ran and Jysal would naturally think of Kan-Gul as being more powerful.
Even if he was not.
Ran grinned. Crafty stuff, but then again, Kan-Gul had probably never dealt with a Shinobujin before. Ran’s teachers had always stressed that deception, manipulation, and clever strategy were far superior to merely wielding a sword or breaking bones. At times, Ran could appreciate that sentiment. But at other times, there was nothing better at solving a problem than simply relying on the folded steel of his curved sword. If that meant he lacked finesse, then Ran was comfortable with that assessment. He could always become more refined, provided he lived long enough.
Kan-Gul was clearly trying to intimidate them. Perhaps that was why they hadn’t been taken with the others. For some reason Kan-Gul felt he needed to impress them, keep them intimidated and cowed by his almighty powers.
Ran had a choice to make: either he could let Kan-Gul think he had bought into it by pretending to be suitably impressed, or he could simply appear bored by the whole thing. One reaction would almost certainly guarantee that Kan-Gul would grow angry, while the other might cause his vanity to swell to the point that he showed a weakness to Ran.
One that he could exploit when the time was right.
The warriors all moved into the secret entrance. Ran looked at Jysal. “Seems rude of us not to accept the invitation.”
Jysal pointed at the castle. “You do realize that once we’re inside, there’s a distinct chance we won’t ever come back out?”
“There’s always that chance,” said Ran. “But then again, there are very few certainties in life. And I’ve always preferred trusting the universe to put me where I’m most needed.”
“You think you’re needed here?”
“I don’t know just yet,” said Ran. “But our friends are going to need my help. Our help, for that matter. And if we stay out here, then there’s truly nothing we can do for them.”
“Well then,” said Jysal ducking into the opening. “I guess we’d better go and see this man Kan-Gul, eh?”
“Indeed,” said Ran. And he, too, ducked into the opening.
It was dark inside. For a moment, Ran’s stomach dropped at the thought that he had misjudged the situation and they’d suddenly stepped into an ambush. Then he heard the wall slide back and out, sealing the entrance from the outside world.
As soon as the wall had closed the entire way, a soft, warm light filled the room. Ran heard something like the snap of a whip and smelled some sort of burning in the air. He looked around but saw only that the gray-skinned warriors were moving away and arraying themselves against the wall on the far side of the room they now stood in.
“Ran . . .” Jysal’s voice was once again quiet.
“Yes?”
“Your sword.”
Ran looked down and frowned at the sight of his blade missing from his belt. “Well, that’s odd.”
“Odd?” Jysal shook her head and sighed. “You’re entirely unarmed. Kan-Gul can now do whatever he wants to do to us and there’s not a thing you can do to stop it.”
“Has anyone ever told you that you are far too much of a pessimist?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m telling you now,” said Ran.
“Oh,” said Jysal. There was no mistaking the disappointment in her voice. Ran smiled. In her place he might have felt the same thing. But he knew what he was capable of even if Kan-Gul did not. Ran had his own surprises he could play out at his leisure. And they were surprises he doubted Kan-Gul had ever experienced.
The warrior who had addressed them out on the field now came walking back over to Ran. “You will follow me.”
Ran nodded, and he and Jysal fell in behind him. The warrior led them out of the room and down a twisting corridor that sloped ever upward toward a grand entrance pavilion made of white alabaster. Far above them, the ceiling arched and looked tall enough to pierce the very heavens themselves.
“It’s beautiful,” said Jysal quietly. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“Nor I,” said Ran. The spectacle was indeed awesome, and he couldn’t help but feel like this was another act by Kan-Gul to load the dice in his favor upon meeting them.
The warrior led them through the pavilion and into a throne room with blazing braziers at the four corners. In front of them sat a throne made out of what looked like one huge crystal. Ran wondered what the cost of such a thing might have been. He couldn’t fathom it.
“Welcome.”
The voice was different from any he’d ever heard. When Ran turned, he finally got a chance to lay his eyes on the sorcerer known as Kan-Gul.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Ran blinked, and the figure in front of him vanished. Ran whirled around and saw that Kan-Gul had somehow managed to make himself reappear seated on his throne. The smile he wore seemed friendly and inviting enough, but he was doing everything in his power to impress Ran and Jysal with his abilities. Ran narrowed his eyes and stared at the sorcerer, trying to figure out what sort of man he would be.
Judging by the few seconds he’d seen him standing upright, Kan-Gul must have been at least six and a half feet tall—easily a head over Ran. But he was ridiculously thin, and the layers of robes he wore only had the effect of making him look like a skinny man wrapped in a huge amount of blankets. Ran noted that Kan-Gul’s eyes seemed to reflect serious power. They were bright and green and glittered. Ran felt himself drawn to those eyes, pulled into their shimmering depths. He shook himself and turned to Jysal.
She stood transfixed before the throne, a dull smile on her face even as her eyes still radiated life. Ran nudged her, but she didn’t respond. He glared at Kan-Gul. “What have you done to her?”
“We haven’t been properly introduced,” said the sorcerer. “I am the warlock Kan-Gul. You are in my home. And it is my utmost pleasure to welcome you here to my humble residence.”
Ran narrowed his eyes. “I am known as Ran. I hail from Gakur.”
“Gakur? Across the Dark Sea in Nehon?”
“The same.”
Kan-Gul fingered the tuft of hair at his chin. “Interesting. Are you Murai?”
Ran kept his hands near his belt, even though h
e no longer had his sword. “No. I am a wandering warrior.”
“You’re unemployed,” said Kan-Gul. “How interesting. And yet you wear clothes that are in good condition.”
Ran shrugged. “I wear what was on my back when our ship went down at the coast. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Kan-Gul shook his head. “Ah yes, the coastal storms that plague this land are truly awful at this time of year. I must apologize for the tempestuousness of our local environment. I would hope it hasn’t caused you too much suffering.”
Ran thought about the crewmen who had been taken by sharks. But he didn’t say anything about it. They were gone, and nothing Ran would say could bring them back. Better to try to help the others, if they were still alive. “I’m not so concerned about the weather. I’m more concerned about my friends.”
“Your friends?”
“Four of them washed ashore with us. One vanished the first night, one disappeared in the swamp, and two more on the second night.”
“Yet you and this lovely creature were not taken? How interesting.”
Ran had wondered why they weren’t all taken that second night. He was more certain than ever it was all part of some elaborate attempt to intimidate himself and Jysal. Ran shook his head. “I don’t find it interesting. I find it annoying. I want to know what you’ve done with them and why they were taken in the first place.”
“You think I have them?” Kan-Gul leaned back in his throne. “I must say, leveling accusations at your host isn’t exactly the best way to start a relationship. I’m a bit taken aback by your lack of civility, Ran.”
“You are the only person we’ve seen since entering this strange land. No one else could have done it. No one else has the power to do it.”
“And what sort of power would you imagine I have?”
“The creatures in the forest. Those warriors.”
Kan-Gul smiled. “My men. They are called Chekhal. Do you know the word?”
“No,” said Ran.
“It means ‘without soul.’ Those warriors were once living, but now they are not. They have been restored from the dead. Unfortunately, they no longer possess souls.”
“Necromancy,” said Ran. “You should have left them in the ground.”
“Why on earth would I do a thing like that? They are more useful serving me than decomposing and being food for the worms. And with me controlling them, they can satisfy their lust for the flesh of the living.”
“Flesh?”
Kan-Gul nodded. “They do, of course, need sustenance. Not even my magic can sustain them indefinitely. So I send them forth to hunt, and whatever they find, they are entitled to devour, bones and all.”
“No wonder you have no one living nearby.”
Kan-Gul smiled. “Was that a joke?”
Ran shrugged. “More a statement of fact. Did you kill everyone who used to live around here?”
“Me?” Kan-Gul put a hand on his chest. “By the gods, no. But the Chekhal did. It was most necessary for them to be rewarded for their loyal service. And frankly, a bunch of fisherman living on the coast were more of a bother than they were an asset to my little kingdom here.”
“You’re just as guilty of murdering them,” said Ran. “You can’t just put a crime like that off on your undead henchmen.”
Kan-Gul said nothing for a moment, choosing instead to run his eyes over Ran from head to toe. Finally, he shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “And what makes you think that it’s even a crime to kill a worthless human in my kingdom? Perhaps the greater crime is to trespass through my lands without asking permission from me first. Perhaps that is the more egregious transgression. After all, Ran from Gakur, you are in a foreign land. You are a long way from your home, wherever that may be. And as such, you are subject to the laws of the land that you travel through.”
Ran smiled, but he held no mirth in the gesture. “I would ask you to look kindly upon any perceived transgressions that may have resulted from our being shipwrecked on your shore. Surely that will count for something.”
Kan-Gul looked at his hand as if studying his nails. “Tragically, such things as being shipwrecked do not normally enter into consideration of crimes here. I’m afraid my laws are quite stringent. Otherwise, I would have chaos in my court, and I simply could not tolerate that.”
“Your court?”
Kan-Gul waved his hand lazily. Behind him, the room shimmered for a moment. Then a half dozen other chairs appeared. None of them matched the grandeur of Kan-Gul’s throne, but they were opulent enough to suggest that the people now occupying them were aristocrats of some type. Ran eyed them individually and then collectively. There were men and women seated there, each with their eyes locked on to his. None of them said a word. They simply sat there, unmoving.
Every few moments, the air around them shimmered. Ran frowned.
Illusion.
He’d seen this before. The effect was sometimes good and sometime obviously not real. From what he could judge, Kan-Gul had some ability, but not nearly as much as he probably thought he had. Perhaps, Ran thought, his more powerful skills lay in the realm of necromancy instead of illusions.
“Do they talk, or do they just sit there?”
Kan-Gul smiled. “They will speak if I ask them to. If I command it.”
“Otherwise, they will say nothing. They’ll simply sit there until you make them disappear again.”
Kan-Gul yawned. “Sometimes I find their conversation uninspiring. I decided they should only speak when spoken to.”
“That must lead to some great conversations.” Ran pointed. “I think one of them is getting ready to fall asleep.”
Kan-Gul glanced over at the shimmering figure of a heavyset man on the end. Then he looked back at Ran. “Perhaps he did not get enough sleep last night.”
“Perhaps,” said Ran. “Good rest is seemingly very hard to come by in your lands.”
“No doubt exacerbated by sleeping on the beach.”
Ran nodded. “I’ve had better rest than what I got laying on sand.”
“No doubt.” Kan-Gul spread his hands. “You are more than welcome to spend the night here in my castle. I can assure you that your rest will be more enjoyable than any you have had of late.”
Ran felt certain that any sleep he got in this castle would probably be his last. “You’ve taken my sword from me.”
“Indeed,” said Kan-Gul. “I’ve found that weapons tend to complicate otherwise enjoyable conversations.”
“What have you done with my blade?”
“It is safe, have no worry. I do know that people from Gakur tend to be very protective of their swords. Some, I’ve heard, even believe they are imbued with the souls of their creators. And many tell me that the blades produced in your country are among the finest anywhere throughout the world.”
“The blades are indeed exquisite,” said Ran. “As for the blades holding souls within them, I find that many people tend to be more superstitious than practical about such matters.”
“You don’t believe that a sword can hold a soul?”
“I believe that a sword can cut. That it can take a life as surely as it can protect a life. I believe that a finely made blade is one of the best things a man can own in this dangerous thing we call life. But otherwise, I have little use for superstitions and legends.”
“You are a pragmatist, then?”
“I believe in what I can see. What I can feel.”
Kan-Gul smiled. “In that case, here.” He waved his hands.
Ran felt the reassuring presence of his sword in his belt and let his left hand drift to the scabbard. “Thank you.”
“It is a trifling matter.” Kan-Gul waved his hands again, and the members of his court vanished. “We have more important matters to discuss anyway.”
“Why did you get rid of the court?”
“They were boring me,” said Kan-Gul. “Besides, I can tell you never bought into the illusion.”
Ran
smiled. “It was an admirable attempt.”
“But you saw through it.”
Ran shrugged. “I see through many things. But that doesn’t mean I see all there is to see.”
Kan-Gul folded his arms across his chest. “You are an intriguing man, Ran from Gakur. I have met others from your lands, yet none have impressed me the way you have.”
“Flattery?” Ran cocked an eyebrow. It seemed beneath the sorcerer to pay him such lip service.
“Think of it more as a compliment,” said Kan-Gul. “Perhaps an acknowledgment that you are not nearly as boring as many of your countrymen.”
Ran shifted, aware that he’d been standing during the entire conversation. “You’ve had many here in your court?”
“A few. One very recently, in fact.”
Could he be referring to Kancho? Ran frowned. “My friend who went missing was from Nehon. He’s Murai.”
“Is he? Interesting. Did you know he was also most ungrateful for my hospitality? He kept insisting on his freedom and how he would strike me down if I did not let him and the others go, and on and on and on. I must say, it got extremely tiresome dealing with him.”
“He is Murai,” said Ran. “They tend to be rather inflexible about such things as that. Did you take his sword as well?”
“I did.”
Ran nodded. “No doubt that made him all the more agitated. Murai do not like to be without their swords even during lovemaking.”
Kan-Gul chuckled. “Is that how they are? Truly?”
“So I’ve heard,” said Ran. “But I am not Murai, so I can’t say for certain.”
“Well, regardless,” said Kan-Gul. “He is now locked up elsewhere and doesn’t really matter to the extent of our conversation.”
“He is still my friend,” said Ran. “And I would see him released, if you would grant such a thing.”
Kan-Gul yawned again. “There will be a time and place to petition me about granting freedoms, have no worries. But for now, we have other important items to discuss.”
“Such as?”
“Such as the state of this lovely woman you are traveling with. Who is she?”
