In an instant several of the Americans leaped into the air shouting like children kept too long from recess.
Mark looked over to where the Japanese who had failed to fly stood alone. Allic went to his side, and producing a wine sack, he offered the man a drink.
"Some do not have the gift," Allic said soothingly. "Others will learn it as time passes. Do not be ashamed of your fear."
Takeo, humiliated, refused the wine and looked at the rest of the group. Most of the Americans, except for Mark and Kochanski, gazed at him with mocking contempt. And a fair number of the Japanese, who only moments before had been equally terrified, lowered their eyes.
Takeo walked up to Ikawa and bowed from the waist, "I am sorry if I have shamed you, sir," Takeo said, still trembling.
Before Ikawa could reply, the boy turned and bowed to Allic, as well.
He closed his eyes and hesitated for a second. "Banzai!" Takeo screamed. He was over the cliff before anyone could stop him.
"Get him!" Allic cried, and Pina leaped into the air and disappeared over the side.
The others looked over the edge.
"He'll never reach him in time," Kochanski said. They could all see the boy tumbling, and Pina desperately trying to close the distance.
"Jesus Christ," Mark whispered. Then, at the very last second, the boy stopped falling and swept out, rushing low across the landscape.
A cheer went up from the Japanese, and the Americans joined in, as the boy arched up into the sky. Pina came in alongside, ready to help the wobbly flyer as he regained altitude and finally came back to land on the cliff.
The Japanese clustered around him, slapping him on the back as he came up to bow to Ikawa.
"You have Bushido," Ikawa said proudly.
The boy gave him a weak smile, then with a gentle sigh he keeled over―out cold.
The men around him laughed, but there was no malice in their tone as they gathered around and worked to revive their comrade.
"Your kid has guts. I'm proud to be serving in the same group with him," Mark said, coming up beside Ikawa.
Ikawa turned and Mark could see tears in his eyes. This did not fit any notion he had ever formed of the so-called cold-blooded, unfeeling Japanese officer. To save Ikawa any further embarrassment, he turned and walked away.
Allic was obviously delighted by Takeo's courage. Kneeling by his side, Allic touched him lightly on the forehead. Takeo's eyes fluttered open.
"This thing your commander calls Bushido," Allic said, "it sounds like something to be proud of. Come, fly by my side as we return to the castle."
Allic stood up and looked at the men. "I don't know if your commanders told you, but there is a little gathering planned for you this evening back at the castle."
The men looked expectantly at him.
"You see, certain young women have been begging to meet you since you arrived."
There was an electric tension in the air―but in the presence of their lord they were silent.
"There's one girl with flaxen hair that I'm particularly interested in," Allic said, "but the rest are fair game."
"Does that mean we're getting laid?" Walker shouted.
"Interesting phrase," Allic replied, smiling. "We prefer the term 'making joy', but I guess it's the same thing."
"So let's go make joy," Jose cried, and the men broke into lusty cheers.
"Follow me then." Allic laughed, and be rose into the air.
The others followed, shouting happily. Allic turned and flew back down the trail.
Mark suddenly understood where Allic was leading them, and his heart filled with anticipation.
They swooped over the Tals who barked excitedly and galloped behind them as they passed.
Allic turned into the arching tunnel of flame-red trees and the men followed one after the other. Mark broke out of the column, pulling a loop, and then swung into the rear of the line alongside Ikawa.
Side by side they drifted slowly beneath the canopy. The golden-winged birds darted around them, chirping excitedly, their cries mingling with the happy shouts of men who were learning to slip from the iron hand of gravity. The lavender scent washed over them, flooding their senses.
Mark looked over at Ikawa, who flew unsteadily by his side. He smiled encouragingly, wondering why he would feel this sudden warmth for a man he would have killed without a second thought only weeks before.
But for the moment that was forgotten. There was only the ecstasy of flying, and with it the first true sense of a bond, as they floated together through the cool shadow-washed tunnel of red-green light.
The light grew stronger as the end of the tunnel came into view. Together they flew out of the shadows into the broad, sunlit countryside that stretched to the far horizon.
With a cry of unspeakable happiness, Mark soared upwards, rushing straight towards the heavens. He extended his hand outwards to the sun, as if for that moment he could reach out and touch the light above.
* * * *
Sarnak came into the map room and stood for several minutes reviewing the changes that had taken place since his last visit, several hours before. The map almost entirely filled a large, shallow pit and was so well made that every time Sarnak stood over it he felt like he was flying over the real thing.
Even as he watched, more of Allic's patrols were noted and shifted to their new locations. Macha, who ruled the land of Torm along Allic's southern border, had very heavy patrols out, he noticed.
Ralnath walked into the room. "My lord, I have been checking on Wika's progress with the outlander, as you ordered. Wika is driving him right to the edge trying to make your deadline of three tendays. The outlander is learning, and they already hate one another, as I'm assuming you wanted."
Sarnak raised an eyebrow. "How refreshing to be so obvious. What's my next move, then?"
Ralnath hesitated, cursing his loose tongue, then forged ahead. "You will want someone to befriend the poor lad eventually, learn his true worth, and make your plans accordingly."
Sarnak nodded, said, "The assignment is yours," and turned his attention back to the map. "Allic has finally moved his forces so that we have a clear path to our next target. This move will give Allic more pain than he's had in over fifty years, and could very well send him blasting his way into Madia's land before he's even thought about it."
"Signal Quarth to lead his strike team over the border tonight. I want the attack made at dusk tomorrow. Target: Dirk. And remind him that I want no one left alive."
Chapter 8
"So, how was last night?" Allic asked, looking across the table at Mark and Ikawa. He had been wanting to ask all day, since half the town was buzzing with details of the party, but thought it best to wait until evening when he could share a drink and find out about the previous day's amusements.
There was a moment of embarrassed silence. Mark was not the type of man to share the details of his bed. Upon their return to the castle he discovered that a feast had been prepared in the garden near the bathing pools. The girls had been stunning beyond his wildest imaginings―and the imagination of a bomber pilot could get pretty wild.
Her name was Chloe and it was obvious that she had picked him out long before the party started. Tall and slender, her hair a tawny auburn, she was the female sorcerer he had talked to at the House of Healing, where he had stopped to check on Jose the day after their arrival. It was apparent he had made a most favorable impression because her approach was very simple and direct, leaving no doubt in Mark's mind how the rest of the evening would turn out.
The men had been decidedly nervous at first, especially with Allic present. He had been all courtliness, but once he left with the blonde, the party soon turned into a raucous affair, eventually ending in the bathing area where they went skinny-dipping in the hot spring.
Mark had heard some outrageous stories about the "great Hollywood orgy," as the men were now calling it, but he had barely listened. It had been quite some time since he had sta
yed up until dawn 'making joy'.
Mark looked over at Allic, wondering what to say to his lord. He had had a great time, but the whole thing was still a little bit shocking. Somehow the men had hit it by tagging it a Hollywood party. Things like last night only happened to guys out in California, or to rich mob chiefs on Long Island. It didn't feel quite right somehow.
Mark finally broke the silence. "These―ah, well you see, these young ladies who were with us last night―"
"Yes...?"
"They all seemed like they were from..." and he fell silent.
"I think he means good families," Ikawa interjected.
"Some of the best―nobles or sorcerers all."
"I mean, I don't want to cause any embarrassing situations here," Mark said quietly.
"What's embarrassing?" Allic asked, not helping in the slightest.
"Well, ah, you know."
"No, I don't."
"Well, it seemed kind of wild there. I mean, back home things like last night only happen in Hollywood, what with the girls taking their clothes off and then swimming together in the pool."
"What's this Hollywood? Is it a kingdom?"
"Yeah, you could call it that. But like I was saving, we were kind of loud there, and I'm worried that others in the castle would find out and the girls' families might get upset."
Allic threw back his head and laughed. "Most of their families encouraged them. Your Chloe is Pina's daughter. And I must say, Pina was delighted."
"Pina allowed that!" Mark cried. "And he calls himself a father?"
"One of the best," Allic said evenly, as he poured another round of drinks. "Look, Mark Phillips, it sounds like the people of your world have some problems. Here our young people are encouraged to freely associate and to make joy. There's no stigma to that."
"But what about children and such?" Mark asked lamely.
"What about it? You must have noticed that people here live longer. Even those without the Essence normally reach a hundred. A good sorcerer such as yourself can make a thousand, maybe twelve hundred years. Self-rejuvenation is not difficult with the power."
"Now, if we didn't have some forms of control," Allic continued, "there would be far too many for the land to feed. The mugata root solves that problem. A woman or man merely has to make a tonic from the root once a month and childbearing is prevented. Besides, here it is considered very bad form for a person to have more than two or three children. Someone who has more is considered selfish. Unless of course you are a sorcerer or demigod."
"Why is that?"
"Because every parent desires a child to be born with such powers. One sorcerer in a million comes from the common people without the Power. Now, if one parent has the Power of the Essence, the chances increase significantly. If both parents have the Power, the chances are even greater. Therefore, those with the Essence are encouraged to have any number of children, for it is only through sorcerers that the strength of our realm is maintained and our people protected. In my entire realm there are only four hundred; and there are less than a hundred who can use the power in battle and are pledged to me. That is why your arrival was so important. That is why your celebration of last night was viewed by all with favor."
"But what about this sleeping around?" Mark asked, still unsettled by it.
"Healthy, clean fun. How else do you know who your chosen mate will be? Once you have found one special person, many take a vow of oneness. When it comes to the bearing of children, this is very important, for every child should know both his parents, and both parents should take responsibility for raising their child. To do otherwise is viewed here as behavior worthy only of contempt. Parents who do not do the best for their children are shunned by the rest of the community."
Well, damn, it did seem reasonable, Mark thought. And after six months of abstinence in China, and twenty-five years in chaste America, it was paradise.
His only concern now was facing Pina. Somehow fathers of women he slept with always made him feel uncomfortable, especially the father of a girl he had met at an orgy.
Their conversation was interrupted by a cry in the hallway. Yarma burst into the room without bothering to knock.
"My lord, a message has just come in! Dirk reported that he was coming under attack, and then there was silence."
Instantly Allic stood, an expression of growing anger tightening his features.
Several of Pina's sorcerers burst into the room, Valdez leading the way.
"What's this?" Allic roared.
"It's true, sire," a sorcerer replied. "The report came via a message crystal which was overloaded and jammed. They must have come in using a spell of protection, for we've sensed nothing amiss here."
"Who's attacking him?"
"Unknown, sire," Pina replied.
"Damn all to hell," Allic screamed, smashing his goblet on the floor. "I want everyone, every damned sorcerer in this city to report to the courtyard in one turning."
"But my lord," Pina interjected, "all the sorcerers?"
"You heard me," Allic roared. "One turning. Mark, Ikawa, your people too."
"But their training," Valdez protested. "They're barely pass the apprentice level. They don't even have proper offensive crystals yet."
"Damn it! I said everyone! Valdez, suit them for combat. The hell with the ceremonies, I want them armed with offensive crystals right now. They can learn how to shoot them in battle."
"Shouldn't we leave some men behind to protect the city?" Valdez asked quietly, obviously attempting to inject a note of rational calm. "This whole thing could be a subterfuge."
Allic stared coldly at the men before him. "The city can take care of itself," he said, his voice chilly and low. "That's Dirk out there, and by all my powers I'm bringing everyone with me. Do you understand?"
Mark could feel the tingle of fear in the room. He was used to Allic as an almost jovial character, but there was no lightheartedness now. Anyone who crossed Allic at this moment, might very well end up dead.
Without another word the assembled men and women bowed and filed out of the room.
"Get your men quickly," Pina whispered as they stepped into the corridor.
"What the hell is going on?" Ikawa asked, coming up by Pina's side.
"Looks like a raid on one of our border marches. Happens a couple of times a year. Usually just a bandit group hoping to pick up a couple of crystals as loot from a dead sorcerer. Occasionally it's a skirmish with one of our neighbors. But there have been far too many of these of late. There's been a lot of tension on our borders and we all fear that one of these incidents might be the start of something worse."
"Who is Dirk?" Mark asked.
"An old and trusted march man. Dirk has been in service to Allic for nearly a hundred years."
Pina stopped for a moment and looked at Mark and Ikawa.
"He's also Allic's son." Turning, Pina ran up a side corridor and disappeared.
The room was crowded with the Japanese and Americans being briefed by their respective commanders on the forthcoming action when two sorcerers entered carrying large cases.
Silence fell as Derson and Jeen opened their cases on the table. The husband and wife team was in charge of Allic's treasury and crystal vault. Ander, Allic's First Sorcerer of the army, came in behind them.
Jeen spoke first as Derson continued to organize the contents of the boxes.
"We have been ordered to give you your full allotment of crystals. There isn't a lot of time, so shut up and listen."
"These crystals were all made by the House of Master Craftsman Richur de Mornya," Derson interjected. "He does superior work; Allic has been dealing with him for over a thousand years."
"Bear in mind that these crystals are owned by Allic and are being loaned to you by your liege lord. If lost, you are held accountable and can have up to thirty years service added to your contract. Guard them as closely as they will guard you."
"You talk of them as if they were alive," scoffed Gi
orgini.
Derson looked up and replied, "There are those of us who believe that certain crystals do have a very rough sort of sentience. We believe that the Elder Gods grew them in the ancient days for their own unfathomable purposes. However, they are only found in one area of Haven: Jartan's Crystal Mountains, which is the source of his wealth and the reason for contention by any others of the gods and their descendants."
"Crystals are our most precious commodity; they are passed from generation to generation. They are the spoils of battle, and the bottom line of any treaty or trade agreement."
"Sounds like Jartan has a choke hold on the rest of the world. How come he isn't emperor or whatever?" asked Younger.
Ander smiled at Younger. "A good question, but too difficult to answer quickly. The gods have agreements among themselves, and Jartan trades freely with other realms to ensure long term economic growth."
Jeen cleared her throat and Ander smiled, saying, "Jeen's reminding me of my tendency to lecture."
"To return to our subject: You will find your blast crystals have the improved spirel cut, and your shield crystals have the standard brilliant cut. These offer far more refinement than the ones you used in training."
"We will also give you belts with other standard crystals, including communications, creativity, farseeing, healing, and others. Please take your old basic defensive crystal and put it in one of the slots on your belt. Your new shield crystal goes in the wristband on your left hand." He started to pass out the belts and wristbands.
Jeen spoke up. "I suggest you ignore all but the offensive, defensive, and communications crystals for now. Those are the ones that will save your life. Now, out to the courtyard for some quick practice before we go!"
* * * *
"Close it up there. Hurry, damn it, hurry. It's just on the other side of this hill!"
Pina banked away from the formation of Americans and Japanese and swooped up to the head of the column.
Mark was straining to keep up speed, but he was damn near exhausted. They had been flying for several hours and he soon realized that to fly full-out, hugging low to the ground, took every bit of his concentration and strength. He estimated that they were flying at well over sixty miles an hour, and but for the protection of his crystal shielding the wind would have buffeted him into numbness long ago. Larna, the larger of the twin moons, had set long ago, and only the light from Rega guided them across the open savannah and low rolling hills. The rich farmlands of the escarpment were now an hour or more behind them. The crisp air of the high plateau had been replaced by the sultry heat of the savannah, and it was as if the descent had brought them into another world.
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