Authors: Dave Duncan
“Your
sorcery can’t get my words out of me!” Rasha chuckled. “No?”
He
screamed, doubled over, then toppled heavily. Inos felt her feet start to move,
and Kade’s hand tighten on her arm. The day they had arrived in
Arakkaran, Rasha had tortured Azak just like this.
Rap
curled up small, writhed, straightened, spasmed, thrashed as if every muscle
was being convulsed by cramps. He did not scream again, but he gurgled, and
somehow more noise would have made the spectacle less horrible. Nauseated, Inos
tried to look away, and couldn’t. She clenched her teeth in the effort
not to cry out. To appeal to the sorceress would be as bad as appealing to
Azak. Rap! I can’t help! Anything I do will make it worse!
At
last the whimpering thing on the floor fell silent, and was still. Inos
wondered if he had fainted, or died.
“Had
enough yet?” Rasha inquired sweetly. “Want a rest?” After a
moment Rap pushed himself up, leaning on his hands and one hip. His face was
deathly pale and there was a crazy look in his eye as he stared up at the
sorceress. He must have bitten his tongue, for his mouth was bloody; he said
something so slurred that Inos missed it. It was also spoken in a very broad
sailor dialect, but the sense was obvious.
Rasha
laughed. “Very good! But how long can you stand it, faun? “ Her
voice flowed like poisoned syrup in the gloom. “An hour? A week? A
lifetime?”
Again
Rap’s reply was an unintelligible obscenity. “Ready then? You want
to burn some more? “ she asked. And she must have cured his tongue,
because the next reply was at least clearly phrased, if no more polite. Visibly
shaken, Rap clambered to his feet. He swayed for a moment, then lunged forward
as if to attack the sorceress and strangle her. He stopped after two steps,
glaring, but Inos could not tell if he had changed his mind or if Rasha had
blocked him. How could he know that courage and defiance were the worst
possible responses to her torments?
Even
through the gauze of her veil, her amusement showed. “Interesting! You
present an interesting challenge. But we’ll find your breaking point some
other day. This is holding up the wedding celebrations. You’ll talk soon
enough when your sweetheart . . . Oh, I am so sorry! How careless of me to
spill such dangerous little secrets! I mean the sultana, of course. This time
she burns and you watch, faun. “
Azak
uttered a wordless roar of protest, and then reeled back as if kicked by an
invisible horse.
Inos
steadied herself, brushing away her helpers. She opened her mouth to shout a
royal defiance, to tell the old harlot to do her worst, to order Rap to
refuse-and she could not force the words between her teeth. Whether that was
Rasha’s sorcery or her own frailty she did not know, but silent she
stayed. Silent, and already shaking. Never in her life had she experienced
truly great pain. She had seen both Azak and Rap crushed by it, and she did not
think she could be any braver or more stubborn than either of those two.
And
what did it matter if Rasha’s powers were increased? Already she ruled
Arakkaran as she willed.
Glaring
murder, Rap stepped closer to the sorceress, his fingers hooked. She shook her
head mockingly at such folly. “All right!” he shouted. “All
right, you evil old hag!”
“You
will rue ever uttering that remark. Meanwhile-talk!” She turned her head
as -Rap moved close, his face black with anger.
He
went to whisper to her, and stuttered into silence with a gasp. Rasha glanced
around and then frowned at Azak, who was closest.
“You
have sharp ears, Muscles. Go back! Come here, faun.” She marched over to
the deserted front row of chairs. Rap trailed behind, looking broken and
dejected. Azak turned away from the two of them and ran up on the dais. He came
over to stand behind Inos, but he was glowering at the drama, and did not look
at her. As an oven might radiate heat, so Azak still radiated fury. Oh, idiot
Rap!
She
hugged Kade tighter, aware that one of them was trembling. Or both of them.
The
hall was growing so dim now that it was hard to make out the details, but again
Rap had leaned close to the sorceress’s ear. He choked, and again pulled
away. “It still hurts!”
“Tell!
Or I give Inosolan what I gave you! Last chance!” Inos tensed again, mad
with her own helplessness. Azak growled wordlessly. At the far end of the hall,
torches flickered brightly where the guard was lining up.
Again
Rap bent to Rasha. He began to whisper, and stopped with a heart-rending groan.
There was certainly no one else within earshot now, but apparently to speak a
word of power for even one listener hurt about as much as Rasha’s occult
tortures.
Someone
shouted a command by the door, and the squad of family men began to move,
starting down the aisle, at least fifty of them, bringing their flaming
torches. Their boots thumped in steady cadence, and shadows began to shimmy
behind the pillars.
Rap
tried again, and this time seemed to finish what he was saying. Then he reeled
back, doubled over and gagging. “Ah!” Rasha stiffened in triumph
and seemed to grow taller. “Yes, yes!”
She
spun around to face Azak. “Yes! Now I-” Rap straightened, staring
at her.
Inos
gasped and moved closer to Kade-the sorceress’s eyes were glowing red in
the gloom. She tried to speak and produced only a gabble of gibberish. Azak
took a step forward and stopped, grimacing. Now her face and hands were shining
with a ghostly pink light.
Kade’s
fingers bit into Inos’s arm. “Am I mistaken,” she whispered, “or
has her Majesty made a serious error?”
“Too
much power? “ Inos said. “Rap warned her!”
Rap
clapped his hands to his head, as if hearing something inaudible to mundane
ears.
Pale
wisps of smoke trickled from the sorceress’s garments, her head and arms
glowed through the silk. Then she either realized the extent of her danger for
the first time, or else the pain overcame her defenses. She screamed.
The
leading rank of family men stopped abruptly, others ran into them, and the
march fell into chaos. Men stumbled, knocking over chairs, or one another. The
leader roared.
Rasha
whirled around toward Rap and held out her arms. “Take it back!” she
yelled. She staggered forward, and he lurched away in horror. Smoke poured from
her wrists, lighted by the red glow of her hands. She tried to speak again and
the words were lost in an animal howl as her sleeves exploded into flame,
followed at once by her headdress.
The
sorceress blazed then, a human bonfire illuminating the hall and the royal
party on the dais and the terrified faces of the close-bunched guards, whose
eyes reflected her brilliance like the eyes of a wolf pack peering from a
forest. Sparks and smoke roared up to the arches of the roof. Inos saw the
glare through her eyelids; she gagged at the vile stench of burning hair and
cloth.
The
fire dwindled, the light faded into darkness, but the screaming continued, and
Inos opened her eyes again to see. Rasha was still there. Her clothes and hair
had burned away, but she herself seemed to be fighting back, hanging on to her
mortal existence by some supreme act of will or sorcery. There was no fakery or
pretense now, no tall queenly stature or maidenly beauty, only a grotesque
roly-poly figure of hairless flabby skin, staggering around and keening with a
shrill thin note that froze the ears. And the whole of that hideous figure
shone like a lantern with an internal pink light, brightening the gloom of the
hall.
Inos
wanted to run to Rap, and could not bring herself to release Kade. The two of
them hugged and shivered together. The guards were backing away down the aisle.
Again
Rasha tried to appeal to Rap, holding out her arms in supplication. Again he
refused her. She tried to speak, and every word burst from her mouth as a spout
of white fire. She wheeled around in search of someone else to aid her, and her
eyes lit on Azak.
Except
that she had no eyes now. Where they should have been were two dark shadows in
the blaze that was the front of her head. The shape of her skull was visible,
shining through her flesh, and when she spread her arms toward Azak, the bones
were visible also, burning white-hot inside her.
She
tottered forward, one unsteady step at a time, all the way to the dais. Azak
advanced to meet her, holding out a chair as if she were a dangerous animal he
must keep at bay. He halted at the top of the steps, barring her advance.
Again
she tried to speak, whimpers mingled with vomits of flame like a smith’s
furnace. Inos could feel the heat; she thought she made out a few words-”Help,”
maybe, and “Sorcerer,” and perhaps even “Lover,” but
that could have been imagination. The inside of Rasha’s mouth was hotter
than a potter’s kiln.
She
put a foot on the first step, and managed that, then swayed as she tried for
the next. Azak was standing his ground against the heat, all his jeweled finery
sparkling like a dew of blood, his face contorted in revulsion, but the chair
he held extended before him was starting to smoke as Rasha neared it.
“No!”
he shouted. “Go away! Monster!”
The
Rasha thing raised its face to the sky and uttered one last, loud,
ear-splitting howl of despair, and the word was clear: “Love! “ It
came out as a long jet of white fire squirting upward, and that cry of
resignation seemed to burst the mortal bubble. The strangely resistant flesh
exploded into flames, and for the second time the sorceress blazed as a
bonfire-hotter and brighter than before, as her very substance burned away in a
roar of sparks and fire. Azak dropped his shield, covered his face, and backed
away.
For
a moment the skeleton alone remained, standing on the first step, miraculously
balanced, and every bone shone hot as the sun. Then it collapsed, even as it
also was consumed in an upward rush of flame and ash.
The
hall was plunged into silence and darkness. Inos could see nothing except a
greenish afterimage of a skeleton and the stone glowing briefly red where its
feet had rested, two faint footprints fading fast. The marble cracked like
thunder.
“Bring
those lights!” Azak roared, and the family men sprang to life. Two of the
torchbearers hurried forward to brighten the scene.
Eyes
recovered slowly, but soon Inos could make out the night sky framed in the high
arches, their stone traceries speckled with stars, the faint curve of vaulting.
Within the dancing yellow glow on the floor, nothing remained of Sultana Rasha
but a stain of lime on scorched marble and a cracked step. And a nasty, burned
smell.
“She’s
dead,” Rap said in a thin voice. “Quite dead. I felt her die. I
felt my power come back!” He walked forward and peered at the step.
“Free!”
Azak threw back his head and bellowed the word so the echoes boomed. He
brandished fists in the air. “Free of the harlot! Free to be sultan at
last!”
“I
thought she was to be your aide-de-camp?” Kar muttered the question so
softly that Azak likely did not hear him.
But
Inos did, and it confirmed what she had suspected. Rasha would have been in
charge of occult defense in the coming war. Azak had bought two sultanas. Gone,
now, all gone ...
Azak
gestured, and the family men hastily advanced, then spread out in a cordon in
front of the chairs. He pointed at Rap. “Bowmen! If that man speaks one
word without my permission-shoot to kill.”
With
six arrows aimed on him at point-blank range, Rap shut his mouth and kept it
shut. He tucked his thumbs in his belt and rolled his eyes ironically at Inos.
He looked much happier than he had a few moments ago. But of course-Rasha was
dead and Elkarath had not returned, so far as Inos knew. Whether he was a mage
or only an adept as he claimed, Rap was senior sorcerer in Arakkaran. Her brain
struggled to accept that idea. Rap?
“I
have a couple of questions, prisoner! “ Azak barked. “Azak!”
Inos pulled away from Kade and hurried across the dais, her train rustling
heavily after her.
Azak
turned to face her, glaring. He put hands on hips. “You dare to plead for
this felon?”
“I
certainly do!” Inos snapped. “He is no felon. He rid you of the sorceress,
didn’t he?”
“No.
She rid me of herself.”
“Then
you need a replacement advisor in occult matters. I will vouch for Master Rap’s
loyalty. He is honest and trustworthy.”
“Loyal
to whom? No, I shall have no hateful sorcery within my kingdom. He dies!”
Rap
had killed guards, invaded the palace, disrupted the royal wedding, stolen
Evil, made Azak look foolish. Any one of those would be a capital offense in
Arakkaran.
“Azak!
“ She fell to her knees.
His
face darkened in fury. “What is this man to you, Sultana?”
“Nothing!
Merely a childhood friend and a loyal retainer of my late father’s. May
not I ask this small favor as a gift from you upon this, our wedding-”
“Silence!
Do not begin your married life by incurring my displeasure, wife. In Zark it is
unseemly for a married woman even to know another man by name, let alone take
his part against her husband’s wishes. Princess Kadolan, conduct your
niece to the royal bedchamber.”
Inos
choked, speechless. She ... she could not even find thoughts adequate, let alone
words. The man she needed was the Azak of the desert, the lionslayer, but she
did not know how to summon him in the place of this city tyrant.
“Majesty?”
Kar strolled forward, his usual small smile just visible in the dancing flicker
of the torches.
Azak
grunted.
“Your
Majesty, if this man truly was sent as a messenger by Warlock Lith’rian,
then putting him to death might possibly be unwise. His arrival has rid you of
the sorceress who was both a burden to you and who seemed destined to become an
Olybino votary. His Omnipotence of the South may have foreseen these events. “