Perilous Seas (7 page)

“Perchance!
“ Azak said equitably. “Then I shall merely ask that they remove my
curse, so that I may marry your niece. That matters more to me than all the
kingdoms in Pandemia. “

There
was a pause, when Inosolan should have agreed, and said nothing.

Kadolan
reached for another arrow, and there were only two left in her quiver. One of
those she must not use, so she tried the other. “But to anger a sorcerer?”

“Personally
I should like to disembowel him with a gardening fork! “ said Inos. “Horrid
old fat fool, messing around with my mind! I am not going to hang around here
so that Rasha and Warlock Olybino can marry me off to a goblin. Can you get us
out of here, First Lionslayer?”

“Your
wish is my command, my love. “

“Are
you coming, Aunt?”

Kadolan
sighed. “Yes, dear. If you insist,” she said, and she left the
other argument unspoken. For weeks that giant young djinn had been wooing
Inosolan as best he could, but for a Zarkian male to be seen spending time in
the company of a woman, and especially his supposed wife, was to risk seeming
unmanly. Thus Azak’s courting had been seriously handicapped. Now he
would have Inosolan all to himself, from dawn to dusk, uninterrupted. True, he
would still be hampered by his inability to touch her-what a blessing that
curse was!-but she would have his undiluted attention.

Inos
had been handling him very well. She had neither spurned nor encouraged. She
had been tactful and kind, promising nothing, committing to nothing. The poise
she had learned so well at Kinvale had stood her in good stead so far. But she
was very young; she was homeless and friendless, and in great need of support.
Alone with Azak for an entire month or longer, could even Inos continue to
resist his logic, his persistence, his undeniable charm?

Kadolan
was not a gambling person, but she knew a long shot when she saw one.

Day
dawned through a strangely undesertlike fog. It might have been a cloud, for by
then the travelers were already high into the hills.

Departure
from Tall Cranes had been a very educational procedure. Inos had listened in
fascination as Azak reduced both hamlet and caravan to utter confusion.
Although the visual detail had been obscured by darkness, she had been able to
make out enough from the sounds alone.

The
famous Code of the Lionslayers had proved to be much less reliable than the
proverbs about not trusting djinns. Gold and promises had worked their usual
wonders. Although she did not hear the actual words of treachery, Inos could
guess that exiled princes would readily succumb to offers of future royal
status in the court of Arakkaran--even though they had no reason to expect Azak’s
pledges to be any more reliable than their own oaths. However he did it, Azak
prevailed and Elkarath was betrayed.

If
the villagers had guards of their own posted, then the lionslayers dealt with
them-Inos preferred not to know-but probably the foxes had not expected danger
from the chickens. Most of the men were absent, anyway.

The
camels had been freed of their hobbles and bells, and driven from their
paddocks. By dawn they might be anywhere. The rest of the livestock-mules,
cattle, horses, even poultry-had also been chased out into the night. Some had
tried to follow the fugitives for a while, but had eventually given up. The
lionslayers had loaded their familes and taken off south, to Ullacam. When the
old sheik awoke, he was going to have much to keep him occupied-marooned and
defenseless amid a very hostile population. No one was going to be starting a
pursuit for quite some time.

Mules
would be better than camels in the mountains, Azak had said, so it was from the
back of a mule that Inos greeted the dawn. A mule was not a smooth ride, but
the tough little beasts had climbed and climbed and climbed without protest.
Already Tall Cranes was a long way back and a long way down.

The
night wind had gone, or else it was confined to the valley and the mule train
was now above it. A pearly glow filled the air, and she could smell dampness
for the first time in weeks. Delicious! The mules’ small hooves clopped
on a smooth stone surface.

“A
road?” Inos said.

Azak
and his mule loomed large and dark at her side, just foggy enough to hint that
they were not quite corporeal. His red-bearded smile was visible now, but she
had been hearing it for some time in his voice.

“The
road to the city, certainly. We have been following it for an hour. It comes
and goes. See?” The paving vanished below a bank of sand.

Inos
twisted around and confirmed that Kade was in view now also, although misty.
She waved and received a wave in reply. Wonderful old Kade! Inos herself sat
the lead mule of a string of four, with her aunt bringing up the rear. Azak had
kept his mount free, and rode ahead or alongside, as the terrain dictated. Even
mules did not argue with Azak ak’Azakar.

Escape!
Freedom!

Boulders
and a few scraggy bushes appeared out of the fog, paid their respects, and
withdrew to the rear like a procession of courtiers. The light was growing
brighter, the fog drifting. A few minutes later, the pavement was back again.
After a furlong or so, the mules reached a gully where it had been washed away,
but Azak found it again on the far side.

He
was very pleased with himself. He had reason to be. The current confusion in
the Oasis of Tall Cranes did not bear thinking about-meaning that it was very
enjoyable to think about. Revenge!

Weary
as she was, not having slept all night, Inos could still convince herself that
she was thinking more clearly than she had done in weeks. She said so. “I
feel as if my mind has been wrapped in a blanket! Sleazy, deceitful old man!
Everything feels sharper and clearer.”

“Then
you agree to marry me?”

She
parried with a jest, and won a laugh. Azak seemed to be feeling the same sense
of relief she did. He was flippant and high-spirited. He was totally unrecognizable
as the saturnine sultan who had ruled a palaceful of ferocious princes by brute
terror. He was in love.

She
had seen the same transformation happen at Kinvale, although never on quite
such a scale. A man in love reverted to boyhood. He rediscovered fun and
frolic, and cheerfully played the fool in ways he would never otherwise have
considered. She had seen a normally lordly tribune leap into a fish pond to
recover a lady’s hat. Temporary mating plumage, the girls had called it
among themselves. It suited Azak. It made him seem much more credible as a
husband in Krasnegar. But how long would it last after the courtship was over?

And
he was very persistent. Even at dawn, on a mule, after a sleepless night,
heading into unknown dangers, possibly being pursued by an angry sorcerer, Azak
was busily wooing. He badgered, and he deflected every objection. “Tell
me! “ he said. “Describe these customs that you find so
unacceptable. “

“Murder,
for one thing. I know you poisoned your grandfather ... how about Hakaraz and
his snakebite? Did the snake have help? “

“Certainly.
Asps do not infest royal apartments from choice, and there were six of them.
The one in his boot got him.” Inos shivered. “How many brothers
have you killed?”

“Eighteen.
Do you want to know about uncles and cousins?” She shook her head, not
wishing to look at him. The mules were back on the made road again, and the
surrounding slopes were coated in rank brown grass, wet with dew. The air was
cold yet.

“Do
you wish to hear my reasons?”

“No.
I’m sure you had reasons. And I know that it is the custom of the
country, so they couldn’t complain that they-”

“Complaints
were some of the reasons.” He was mocking, and yet serious, too. “But
I shall have no relatives around in Krasnegar to vent my barbarous impulses on.
It just isn’t as much fun with commoners, somehow.”

“Oh,
Azak! I know you don’t do it for fun, but ... Oh, Azak! Look!”

The
fog swirled as if bowing farewell, and withdrew like a drapery. Sunlight blazed
hot and bright. Inos stared up in amazement at a rugged mountain that filled
the sky, seeming to overhang her; and yet the craggy hills directly ahead were
sizable in their own right. Then, even more dramatic, the crumbled yellow
landscape seemed to waken like a sleeping dragon and transform itself before
her eyes into the ruined city that was their immediate goal. Cliff became wall,
peak tower, gorge gateway. And Kade cried out.

Azak
wheeled his mule even before Inos had hauled hers to a stop. She dropped the
reins and scrambled off its back, suddenly aware of stiffness and stabbing
aches. And she was not a quarter of Kade’s age! How could she have been
so thoughtless as to drag the old lady up here without any decent respite?
Keeping her up all night ...

By
the time she had limped back to the fourth mule and her aunt, Azak was
dismounting a short way farther back, and Kade was full of apologies. She had
dropped her breviary, was all.

Well,
if she could attempt to read and ride a mule at the same time, she was in not
too bad a shape.

“We
must take a break, though,” Inos said. -

Azak
nodded agreement as he returned with the missing book, leading his mule.
Although his mule was larger than any of the others, in the light of day he
seemed absurdly huge alongside it, like a man walking a dog.

The
sky was blue, the sun hot, and sunward the land tumbled away in scrawny ridges
to the hazy immensity of the desert. Inos had a sudden heady sensation of being
a bird. The view was breathtaking. She was amazed at the height they reached
already, at the vastness of the world spread out before her.

Somewhere
down there in that jumble of rock was the Oasis of Tall Cranes, full of enraged
brigands and a very angry sorcerer. Doubtless the local men knew of this road
and would follow as soon as they had recovered their livestock, but so far the
sorcerer had not reacted. He had not called the fugitives back to him. He might
have lost them, or they might be beyond his range already.

But
a rest, and hot tea, and food ...

“Which
God?” Azak murmured politely, thumbing through Kade’s breviary. “Travelers?”

“Humility,”
said Kade.

Without
hesitation, he expertly flipped the pages and found the place, but as he handed
back the book, he raised one copperred eyebrow. “And why should you
choose to invoke Them, ma’am?”

Normally
Kade deferred to Azak as thoroughly as any Zarkian woman would. This time she
met his mocking gaze with a royal confidence of her own. On muleback, she was
almost at his eye level, which no doubt helped, and perhaps she no longer
wished to play the Mistress Phattas role, for there was no deference in her
ice-blue eyes as she replied. “Because I am convinced we have made a
terrible error, your Majesty.”

He
flushed. “I trust that you are mistaken! “

“I
hope I am. I pray that I may live to apologize.”

Azak’s
red eyes flashed anger, and he turned away, yanking his mule’s reins.

Someone
slapped Rap’s face to get his attention. He was still bound, crammed in
on top of some angular sacks and under a bench. He could not feel his feet at
all, and his hands were only more anonymous lumps twisted underneath him. Day
and night were a blur, as if he had been lying there for weeks, unwanted
baggage on Blood Wave. Even in the taiga, he had never felt so cold. His head
throbbed from the effects of the blow that had felled him as he boarded,
although he had detected the ambush in time to dodge and avoid some of the
impact. Gathmor had not been so lucky, and he remained an inanimate bundle
jammed in beside Rap.

The
storm roared unabated. Kalkor had set sail into the middle of it, with brazen
insanity, and Blood Wave had been whirling around like a feather ever
since-standing on her bow or her stern or her beam ends, never still. She
groaned and creaked under the battering, but an orca ship was as near to indestructible
as a jotunn raider himself. Even in the dark, Rap had been able to see the
waves, and from his low vantage they had been green mountains, taller than the
mast. They were still coming.

“Water!”
he croaked. The only water he had tasted had been the rain on his face mingled
with the salt spray that drenched him and everything else aboard every few
minutes.

Then
he recognized the hairy giant kneeling over him. “What’s it worth,
Stupid?” His sibilant growl was familiar, too. That voice came with the
nightmares.

“Water!”

Darad
thumped a fist on Rap’s right eye. Cold and numb as he was, the pain was
unexpectedly overwhelming. For a moment it blocked out the whole world,
crushing, deadening, nauseating. Lights blazed around in his head.

When
his mind cleared a little, the jotunn was grinning his wolf grin, the big
canines emphasized by the missing front teeth, top and bottom. “Andor
told you he’d find a way to get you off that stupid little tub. Well, we
did, didn’t we? I did!”

“Friend
of yours, is he?” Rap croaked. “Kalkor an old friend? “

Darad
nodded, leering. He was ugly as a troll, and almost as big. With any other of
the sequential five it was possible to argue, but Darad was too witless to be
distracted.

“And
he was willing to do me a favor!”

“How’d
you meet up with him?”

“Luck,
Stupid. Just luck. My word makes me lucky, see? Yours doesn’t! You’re
mine now, faun. A gift from Kalkor! You’re going to tell me your word. “

“I
don’t know-” The other eye was thumped now, harder. Oh, Gods! That
was worse.

“Thinal
thinks you do. That’s good enough for me. “ Darad raised a thick
finger and stroked his goblin tattoos. “You’ll talk.”

Rap
had recognized Darad among the raiders. That was the main reason he had rushed
forward like a maniac to denounce Kalkor-he had known then why the jotnar had
come to Durthing. But some of his madness had been the remains of his own
killer anger. Without that he might just have run away, and he would have
escaped, unless he had lingered to help the women and children. He had been
within seconds of beating Ogi; now he was getting what he deserved for losing
his temper.