Wyaela te Fihar picked up her mantle and moved it into the spot vacated by Hablit. Then she sat on the cushion he had left. None questioned her right. Vidik's Siirn had abandoned his oath—and now Vidik Zsed would follow a new Siim.
Now Gordt te Raa took out his ceremonial dagger and held it crosswise on his palm. All conversation ceased, save for Danaer's hurried instructions to Malol. He had not hoped that affairs would move so swiftly, and now he must guide the Royal Commander with little forewarning. Malol laid his hand upon the knife, pressing Gordt's palm, binding himself in sacred pledge to the goddess of the Destre-Y.
"All we vow, then Argan witness," the Siirn Rena said solemnly. In unison with him, the chieftains and priests and all their servants chorused those words. "Her fire will shrivel our minds and souls if we break this faith or shame Azsed. Honor upon honor, Argan, ruler of wills. Witness! Blood by blood, stirrup by stirrup, now—we are one!"
Malol te Eldri stumbled along in recitation of the oath, and no one laughed as he dealt with the Destre tongue.
When it was done, Gordt te Raa flashed a rare wide smile, a warrior scenting battle. He added his own pledge then, with joy. "Argan, taste the blood of a Markuand army."
BoGOTANA^s Furies
"They are so few, and most of them have never known war," Lira said sadly. She stood beside Danaer on the fort's banquette, looking down on the drill field outside the gates. A confusing array of men rushed about, trying to follow the orders they were given. Dust rose in a gritty cloud, but fortunately the wind was kind and carried the worst of it away from the sweating soldiers.
"Older and wiser heads command them. Lira." Danaer straddled the crenel rail and pointed out particular details as the conscripts were trained in lance-work. "These troops will form part of the units the Royal Commander will send to Deki..."
"Under your Captain Yistar."
"He is much honored to be chosen. Straedanfi is experienced in battle," Danaer assured her. "While Nurdanth and Malol and Gordt te Raa assemble our main forces, Yistar will do them proud at the siege of Deki."
Lira caught his arm, begging Danaer to step back to safety ©n the banquette. Amused by her concern, he agreed. She had asked him to help her climb the ladder to the lookouts' post, and he had been more than willing to serve as her escort. Since the Destre council, a six-day ago, she had spoken to him often.
She toyed with the streamers of her headband as she walked back along the catwalk to the ladder. Danaer followed her closely, though he did not dare to behave as boldly as he might with a woman of his own people. If he were not so intrigued by the Sarli's attractiveness and nature, he would not have presumed this far—not with a wizard's apprentice! That still troubled him, yet he continued to seek her company.
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"Deki will be a brutal encounter," Lira said, half to herself. "The Royal Commander admits he has little hope the city can be saved. The forces of Markuand are already too solidly entrenched on the Clarique banks across the river from Deki."
"But Yistar's reinforcements will give Malol and Gordt the time they need."
Lira smiled, and Danaer guessed she knew all these things. She would know many things he did not, perhaps military secrets not even the officers had learned, till Ulodovol's wizard web deigned to reveal them. Then Lira grew morose. "You will go with Captain Yistar's caravan?"
"Ai. Shaartre and I and some of our units are already assigned. Most of the men will be these new, unblooded conscripts fresh from Kirvii, though. When we cross the Vrastre, they will have need of my scouting; Gordyan and some of his men will accompany us, but..."
Lira nodded, aware of that part of the alliance's workings. The Siirn Rena was sending his most trustworthy minion and a number of warriors to guarantee the safe passage of the supply wagons through to besieged Deki.
Shouts from the gate interrupted their conversation. "Pre-sent!" rang out, but it was too late for such formalities. Five dusty soldiers on lathered, staggering horses galloped past the palisades and into the courtyard. Danaer and Lira peered down and said with one voice, "Branra!"
Branraediir indeed was with the small band; it was obvious he had ridden twenty times the distance his companions had journeyed. Bareheaded and begrimed, Branra spurred his black for the rocky fortress which housed headquarters. Startled soldiers gawked, snapped to attention, then broke into spontaneous cheers as Branra passed them. All knew of Branra's mission, and many had thought they would never see him alive again.
"He .v,.,a he would come back in time to go with Captain Yistar," Danaer said, then whistled admiringly at the nobleman's feat.
"I must go," Lira exclaimed, hurrying to the ladder. Danaer sprang to steady the thing till she touched boot to earth. Together they walked across the yard. But Danaer was brought up short by a hail from Yistar. Lira went on, favoring him with a parting smile.
"You saw the Lord Lieutenant? Good! We will go and see what he has to report, and make preparations to begin our trek," Yistar said. "That is, assuming you are still alive when the journey starts." Danaer blinked and tried to frame a reply. But the Captain went on. "I quite appreciate the joys of lusty young manhood and the charms of a pretty woman, especially the sort a sorkra must possess. But you will kindly take some care, and quit perching on rickety railings, Troop Leader. That is a four-length drop to the drill field. I have spent too much time and effort on your training to see you break your neck impressing women."
"It ... it will not happen again," Danaer promised with a sheepish grin. Yard idlers and grooms and camp followers had overheard the lecture and were smirking at ojB&cer and scout.
"See it does not." Yistar ignored the onlookers, leading the way rapidly into the headquarters building. Danaer found the rooms and halls crowded with what seemed to be all the combined staff of Nurdanth and Malol. Like Yistar, all were hurrying to the main chamber. There Branra was the center of a commotion. Everyone was talking at once. Danaer looked about curiously, but neither Lira nor her wizard master was present. The absence of those two on such an occasion puzzled him.
Branra was speaking excitedly to Malol, pulling papers from a scuffed leather pouch, pointing out passages in the writings. Someone gave him a cup of wine and the young nobleman tossed it down, totally without the delicacy expected of a courtier. He was amazingly enthusiastic for a man who had ridden half the land and back.
As Branra paused to ask that his cup be refilled, he spotted Danaer. "Azsed! To me!" Aides and junior officers edged aside to give the soldier room to come close to Branra. The Royal Commander's protege flung
an arm familiarly about the taller man's shoulder. "Hai! Have you ever met Stethoj of the Killing Arrows? No? Now there is a true warrior, an admirably bloody man. Trust him, but never fight him, if you have a choice. And the range of those Tradyan arrows! You must see them at the hunt—or in battle!"
"We hope we shall," Malol said gently, nodding to General Nurdanth. "But not aimed against us."
"They will cut down the Markuand like weeds! He is sending ten tens of his archers to us—to Gordt te Raa, to take part in our alliance," Branra exulted. He gulped more wine, choking in his haste.
Danaer now understood that Branra suffered the near hysteria of exhaustion. Considering the vast territory he had spanned in his epic ride, and the dangers involved, how could he not know weariness?
"The . . . interference we dreaded?" Nurdanth asked softly. Few of the aides could have heard him, but Branra did, and so did Danaer. He remembered the masquerading rioters and the finding that spies within The Interior plotted to destroy this alUance of army and Destre.
Branra dismissed the General's worry lightly. "Nothing of consequence. We were ready for them." In his dark blue eyes there was that same glow of blood fever Danaer had seen during the riot. If there had been assassins, they must have been bested, perhaps slain by Branra's famous sword.
"My Lord Commander," an aide called. The man was at the door, and he glanced behind him uncertainly.
"
What is it?" Malol said, intent on Branra.
"It is ..."
"Another messenger." Lasiirnte Kandra brushed by the flustered aide and all sound died. Kandra entered like the Destre royalty she was, her kirtle bright with jewels, her green demiskirt a lush velvet, and the tola-belt slung around her hips, a priceless tapestry picturing her rank. Further, she wore her weapons—a glittering bronze-bladed dagger and a ceremonial sword that must have been made for a wealthy lord, who sheathed it in gold and emeralds. Slowly, very
conscious of her power, Kandra moved through the room.
Some of the staff surreptitiously tidied their uniforms or struck poses. Alone, of the officers who had not met her, Branra did not play the mooncalf. As a foe of the Destre-Y, he had heard of Kandra's ability to spellbind with her beauty, and he was forearmed. Kandra smiled graciously as she paraded among the aides, stunning them the more.
"Are you accustomed to serve as your lord's courier, my lady Kandra?" Malol seemed astonished that the Lasiirnte had come alone, and so richly garbed, as for festival.
"When I choose to do so. We always spy upon the fort. We know who leaves, and who returns—if it be of great importance." She looked narrowly at Branra. "You did in truth counsel with Stethoj?"
"Yes, Lasiirnte. He will come. He sends a hundred archers before him, and he gathers more of his hunters even now."
"Ah! Then I will match your good news with some of my own. Your route to Deki lies open and clear. The army column may travel at all speed." Kandra patently enjoyed the stir her announcement created.
"Vidik's chieftain will not hinder us?" Nurdanth wondered. "Hablit swore to traffic with the enemy wizard ..."
"One slinking cur cannot maim an entire herd. Azsed is law, and Hablit forfeited his honor. He hides out on the Vrastre, a hunted beast. We will run him to ground and sever his brutish existence soon. Do not fear him." Kandra's scorn was tangible, the worse that Hablit had dared insult her in his parting oaths. "Under Wyaela's chieftainship, Vidik will welcome the army bloodlessly."
One of the junior officers expressed his fellows' disbelief. "It is true, then? A woman rules Vidik and all its tribes?"
Kandra laughed at him. "Does this astound you? But we have heard that lit hold women in low regard. Even your Ti-Mori must go to the island kingdom to prove her worth as a warrior."
"Wyaela will be a splendid ally, I am sure," Malol te Eldri said judiciously, making amends for his aide's foolishness.
Danaer felt strangely apart from the others, at one with Branra in this regard. He could not say what left Branra unmoved. For himself, there was some aura about Kandra which would not let him worship her as others did. What was it? He should not be immune to that heat that most men knew whenever Kandra was present. Perhaps it was her rank, for he was Destre, and was awed to be so close to the famed Lasiimte. Yet men of the Destre were also entranced by Kandra's beauty, as he had witnessed. HabUt had slandered her, but there had been some truth in his words. For such beauty, used in such a way, was a promise of sexuality —a sexuality Kandra had no intention of offering to any man but her wedded lord. But the promise was there, nevertheless, a weapon far more potent than her little dagger or pretty sword.
He looked at her with odd disinterest, his mind drifting to . . . Lira. Danaer tried to hide his surprise at that thought. Was the sorkra's unique charm a shield against Kandra's power? If Kandra worked magic upon men's hearts and lusts, was not Lira also a worker of magic?
Danaer did not relish that idea, wanting to remain his own man. Then, as he continued to watch Kandra's game with the smitten officers, a new sensation filled his being. He felt a terrible sadness, a tinge of awful grief.
He shook his head and the moment was gone. But he remembered the sadness most vividly and was deeply troubled.
Kandra had been enjoying the attentions and compliments, but now she turned to Malol and said, "I must bring you other news, not so happily. From Deki."
"My wizards inform me of—"
"Deki is our city, my lord, and perhaps our riders are a match for your Branraediir," Kandra said with some pique. Like all Destre, she did not hke to beheve that wizards could hear things ordinary mortals could
not, outracing the swiftest roans and the best horsemen. "Laril-Quil is about to fall. Lorzosh-Fila says a flood of Clarique come into Deki now, and bum their boats behind them. Soon the Markuand need waste no forces against the cities of Clarique; they may turn full to assault upon Deki."
"Inform the quartermaster to double the provisions the caravan will take," Malol instructed his aides. "Assign extra wagons to the column. Lady Kandra, your news is most disheartening. But we thank you."
"I am your ally, Siim. And we have sworn to deal honestly with you."
Quite abruptly, Kandra left. Her soft Destre boots were noiseless on the stone floor. The rustling of her mantle and the tiny clink of the chains which held her dagger and sword were her only sounds of departure. Her leaving sucked life from the room.
"Such unseemly haste," Malol marveled.
"Azsed protocol, partly," Branra said dryly. He finished his wine, then v/ent on. "They leave before the welcome sours. I assure you I did not linger over my going, once my mission to Stethoj was completed. My reception in his Zsed was stiff at best, gained only through Gordt te Raa's safe conduct. One does not challenge a truce to the breaking point by overstaying ..."
"Of course. And now I have another duty for you to perform, Lieutenant." Bewildered by Malol's commanding tone, Branra at once set aside his cup and stood to attention. "You will retire to your quarters and sleep. If I see you before sundown, you will trade ranks with the Troop Leader here."
Branra relaxed, grinning. Then Malol announced he wished a private conference with Nurdanth and Yistar, and the others were quick to take their leave. In a few minutes Danaer was back outside the building, blinking in the sunlight. He had taken a few steps toward his barracks when his name was called. This time the voice was feminine, and much more welcome than Yistar's gruff hail.
Lira was standing on the steps of a little balcony outside the room she shared with Ulodovol. Danaer met
her there, responding to her tug on his arm. Together they sat on the topmost step. "I will hear of this from Shaartre," he said with a smile. "Here on a sorkra's very doorstep."
She was pensive, and Danaer quickly dropped his attempt to amuse her. Lira traced patterns in the dust on the step. "Kandra brought you news of the battle at Laril-Ouil?"
Taken aback, Danaer said, "But Malol said his wizards had not yet informed him of that."
"We will, soon." Behind her, the drape of the door was open a trifle, and Danaer could see Ulodovol bending over a bluish flame. The old wizard rocked to and fro, his eyes closed, his white hair wild and unkempt. His lips moved, but Danaer could not hear what he was saying, for which he was grateful.
"And we had hoped not to become deeply involved," Lira said with a bitter little laugh.
"In the war against Markuand? But I thought your Web was of white wizards, who ever worked for good."
"And is war good? At first we agreed to advise the King and the Royal Conmiander, no more. But these Markuand, the wizard genius who guides them—" She broke off, clasping her hands at her breast, her large eyes filling with tears.
"Lira?" Danaer put his arms about her, wanting to ease this agony which seemed to be torturing her. She began to moan, speaking aUen words in a sibilant speech. It was not Sarh, but perhaps some wizard language. Danaer resisted the urge to flee, refusing to leave the woman in such anguish. Gradually Lira's pain eased, and she ceased mumbling those eerie phrases.
Danaer felt cold, though they sat in bright sun. He guessed at what had happened. "You have seen to Deki? To Laril-Quil?"
"Hunger and death, Danaer. Oh, to see children dying of hunger! We must help them." She sighed and smoothed her gown over her knees. "At least Branra achieved his goal..."
"With your protection?" Danaer studied her face. "Did you guard h
im against magic? Did he confront
both assassins and the evil sorcery of Markuand—as I did?" Lira did not answer, but there was a gleam in her eyes that suggested he touched the truth. "And did Branra also hear leaves and jewels where there were none?"
Lira was startled by those questions. But before she could say anything, a frantic scream cut the air. Ulodovol, crying for help!
"To me! To me! My Web—aid me!"
Danaer and Lira raced toward the Httle room. But a single stride across the threshold was all that Danaer could make. He froze in place, his hand on his sword, his jaw dropping.
The chamber swarmed with monsters!
Clawed hands appeared out of nothing—disembodied. Fangs and venomous horns and bulging eyes . . . monsters and demons whole and in pieces, and evil beyond comprehension.
Everywhere at once!
Ulodovol was in their midst, the brazier overturned and blue flame licking at the stone floor and his feet, like a many-headed snake. The elderly wizard gesticulated wildly and flung words of conjury at the slavering things surrounding him, holding them at bay for heartbeat by heartbeat—countermanding this magic.
Bravely, Lira ran to him, kicking aside blazing embers, stamping on the smoldering cloth of her master's hem. Without hesitation, she placed herself back to back with Ulodovol, her own sorcery echoing his as the demons ringed them both.
Danaer's blood pounded with superstitious terror. Then he read Lira's own fear, despite her courageous defiance. He cast away his natural dread, finding strength he did not know he owned.
Drawing, Danaer began to strike out at the gibbering abominations, slashing right and left with all his sinew.
These were no fog demons! The sword struck, and to Danaer's shock, he felt a resistance—though not flesh and bone. Howls battered his ears. A filthy gray-purple spurt of . . . blood? . . . splashed his tunic and hands and the walls of the chamber.
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