Songs of the Dancing Gods (10 page)

Irving looked over next to the flag and tried unsuccessfully to suppress laughing. Standing just beneath it was a huge marble statue of a nude man and woman, bigger than life, looking back at them.

“No wisecracks,” Joe warned. “Besides, we’re going to have enough problems remembering that we’re suddenly nobodies here.”

A soldier, with a trim, brown mustache and military bearing, came up to him. “Do you have any papers?”

“No, sir, although we are all citizens of Marquewood. Although my parents were from a far-off place, I was born in, and am going home to, Terdiera; the lady is of Sachalin origin.”

The soldier nodded, then looked at Irving. “You, young sir, are not of Marquewood, surely.”

“My son,” Joe answered hastily. “I travel a lot in my work.”

The soldier looked at Joe, then the boy, then shrugged. “Apparently so. And from where did you journey?”

“High Pothique, entirely. A well-earned holiday, you might say. Now I am returning to my employer.”

“I see. And who might that be?”

“Ruddygore of Terindell, of course.”

The soldier started a bit. “You work for the sorcerer?”

“Legally, no. But he has first claim on my services.”

The soldier nodded and went to Tiana. “You are of Sachalin?”

“I was born in that city, my lord.”

“And what are you to these two?”

“My lord, I am his slave and mistress,” she responded, pointing to Joe.

The response startled Irving. Hell, she was his wife, wasn’t she? But it seemed to satisfy the guy. Maybe it was an image thing, he decided, or one more of them damned Rules.

“Name and family?”

“My lord knows that upon becoming a slave I gave up my name and family. I am called by whatever name my master chooses, and for now he calls me Ti, after the Blessed Goddess.”

“You were acquired in High Pothique.”

“No, my lord, in Marquewood.”

He nodded, then asked a few specific questions about the far-off city, which she answered perfectly and without hesitation, knowing the place well. He seemed satisfied. “Very well.” He wrote something and handed it to Joe.

“This is your customs entry for the horses and slave,” the border guard told the big man. “She seems to be of Marquewood and her accent is right, so I will allow her in free of duty. However, if you plan on leaving the kingdom again with her and returning, you should have her fitted with a nose ring to validate her country of origin or you could wind up paying duty.”

Now the borderman walked back to Irving, who had been watching all this with increasing horror. At least he had been properly briefed for his own questions.

“You are not born here?”

“No, sir, first time. I am of age, and my father is taking me to be trained by the one who trained him.”

The border patrolman walked back to Joe. “All seems in order, sir. Left to Terdiera. You are cautioned that most of the route is Royal Preserve—no poaching.”

“Any problems?” Joe asked him. “The last time I was through the Master of the Dead was working down almost past here.”

“He withdrew his forces northward as far as we can tell upon the sorcerer’s return,” the soldier told them. “Your route should be safe, although there are reports of hidden enemy encampments in these parts and occasional bits of nastiness—-cemeteries getting up and taking walks, that sort of thing. Stay on the road and camp only in and around the towns and you should have no trouble. The Majin fairies have been moved in between Hotsphar and Terdiera as they are loyal and have proven resistant to the enemy’s powers, but from a few miles north of here until perhaps the old tollhouse at Grotom Wood there’s been reports of firesprites and possible banshee presence, so don’t camp in there even after dark. Otherwise, no problems.”

Joe nodded, and they moved through the opening to the crossroads and turned left.

“I wonder what that guy considers a problem?” Irving asked no one in particular.

CHAPTER 4

ON CHANGES AND UNCHANGES

Fairy flesh is essentially immortal (except under Sections 7 and 16 and provisos in Volumes IV and VI as amended) and, once fixed, can never be changed in its character. It is outside the purview of magic. —The Books of Rules, III, 79(b)

THE ROAD TO TERINDELL KEPT GETTING CREEPIER AND CREEPIER as they went.

The road was in excellent shape, and obviously was well maintained, but the landscape quickly became a jungle, with huge trees rising almost too high to see the tops of them, so close together that they tended to block out much of the light and form almost a rooflike canopy over them.

“So this is home sweet home?” Irving asked, looking nervously around. He could believe zombies or almost anything in this place.

“Marquewood’s a huge country, one of the largest in Husaquahr,” Tiana told him. “There are rolling hills and beautiful glades and mountains and river valleys and just about anything you can think of. It’s just that this area, for the next twenty-five miles or so, is swamp and rain forest.”

“Yeah, but it hadn’t occurred to me that we’d be on this route,” Joe said a bit nervously. “I’m never gonna be really thrilled with this region again.”

Tiana dropped back and said to Irv, in a low tone, “It was elsewhere in this region that Sugasto had an encampment. Our souls were snatched from our bodies and taken here and stored there. The changeling Marge was a key to them finding us, but there was no way to tell who was who.”

“Yeah, you told me that. Around here!”

“Farther south, but the same sort of place. What he’d never tell you was that he was placed in the body of a wood nymph and bound by her Rules. It took powerful magic much later to restore him.”

Irv suppressed a loud laugh. “Dad? A girl?”

“Worse. A wood nymph. They are compulsive hussies with the brains of a banana peel. There’s no real memory of our time in the bottles, but he still has nightmares about his time as a nymph. Don’t rub it in.”

Irving felt a shiver creep up his spine. “Man! I hope that don’t happen to me! I don’t never wanna be no girl!”

She stared at him. “Why not? I happen to like it just fine.”

“Yeah? Would you like to be a man instead? Really?”

“No! I like it the way I am!”

“See?”

“What’re you two whispering about?” Joe asked, turning.

“I just filled him in on why you really want to get even with Sugasto,” she told him. At his expression, she added, “He had a right to know.”

Joe shrugged, but he was clearly angry at her for doing it. He was just realistic enough to know that you couldn’t undo something once done.

Irving thought it would be a good idea to change the subject.

“Hey—back there you said you was Dad’s mistress and slave, even. You’re his wife, ain’t you? Why the other line?”

“Not only under the Rules, but under the law, we’re not married anymore,” she explained. “We just consider ourselves married. The one who married him is different from me. Officially, legally, and under the Rules, I’m somebody else. So is he, for that matter. That dizzy nymph ran off in his old body and this one, which looks the way he originally looked, was actually a magical transformation. Under the Rules, I’m of the underclass—the class of the masses, like the people in those towns, and serfs, and slaves. I was not married within my class in proper fashion, but instead I am a dancer who dances before crowds for money. That places me in the same category as a trained animal who performs in the square for coppers for its owner. An animal has no rights at all, let alone the right to marry. An animal can only be wild or owned.”

“Yeah, but—slave! You ain’t no animal! You’re just a person bein’ treated like an animal!”

“Joe has explained to me how terrible that idea is to you, which is one reason we never brought it up, but it is like the thing we discussed about women’s dress here. This is not only a different world, it exists stuck in a different, earlier time and way of thinking.”

“But keepin’ slaves is wrong! It’s evil!”

“There is a lot of evil in both our worlds, some practiced by very good people. You must learn to think differently. There will be no revolutions here to change things like this. Not ever. Things can only become worse. Now that you know, you should be aware that I will be telling everyone here that I am Joe’s slave. It is vital to me that I do so. Being someone’s property is the only protection I have here.”

“Come again?”

“Otherwise, you see, I am nothing at all, without status or position of any sort, and, therefore, anyone could do anything with and to me that they felt like. As his slave, I am protected under law and the Rules because of his property rights.”

This kind of thinking made Irv dizzy. Still, it suddenly occurred to him that this put her indiscretions of the night before in this new light. “But, if he gets mad at you or somethin’ he could sell you or even just give you away!”

“That is so,” she admitted, “but we are married in our own minds, and I think I know him better than that.”

“Couldn’t he just give you your freedom?”

“No, that’s not permitted. If he freed me, renounced me, or sent me away, I would still be without status and unable to be anything other than I am. I can only survive as someone’s property. It is the only way I get some measure of independence.”

“Come again?”

“He is my owner, not my puppeteer. I am as independent as I can get away with.”

This was too much for the boy. If they weren’t married anymore, then she wasn’t cheating on him last night, and, likewise, he could have all the flings he wanted and not be cheating on her. But he still didn’t like it. Slavery was evil; when it was the good guys who kept slaves, what did it take to be a bad guy? He had been with them many months now, and he was only discovering what they already knew.

“What was that bit about a nose ring?” he asked her.

“He means a small ring that would be inserted through my nose, of course,” she told him. “Each nation has its own unique alloy for making them, all done by fairy folk, of course. In addition, it carries a spell which identifies the owner and all previous owners. They’re usually not worn unless ownership is transferred—sort of a bill of sale, as it were. You notice how the guardsman barely questioned the two of you but went to some length to determine I really was of Marquewood?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Because I had no ring, he wanted to make certain that Joe wasn’t smuggling me in. I hadn’t even thought of it before, but I’m very glad he was so easy on us. A stickler for the law might well have confiscated me!”

“You gonna get one of them rings put in?”

“I’d rather not,” she replied honestly, “but I think I’ll have to. I don’t want to take a risk like that again. I tried not to think about getting one, since the idea of having something in my nose sends chills through me, but, all of a sudden, I keep thinking about all the nasty possibilities without one. Without Joe around, I have nothing to prove that I am his. Slavers could steal me and sell me to anyone with impunity! And the law would back them up!”

They rode in silence for a while, and that wasn’t much better, since he wasn’t getting things sorted out at all, and the lack of conversation made the dark, junglelike swamp even darker and more menacing. Aside from the noise of the horses moving along the road, all other sounds came from the dense forest, and those noises included strange hoots, weird screeches, growls, grunts, and other sounds hard on the nerves, made all the worse because you couldn’t see what was making them.

He noticed that Tiana wasn’t anxious to get her run in around here, either.

“Let’s pick up the pace a little,” Joe suggested. “I’d like to be out of here before dark.”

This was good for a while, but horses couldn’t be pushed forever without some water and breaks. As the afternoon went on, the low light that filtered down angled lower, causing a sinister, creeping dark to pervade slowly, the hot, humid air as still as death. It was also nearly impossible to tell what time it was; they didn’t seem to have watches in this world, either, and under this jungle canopy it was nearly impossible to tell where the sun was in the sky. In these latitudes, the sun went down like a stone somewhere around six-thirty.

“What happens if we don’t make it out of this mess by dark?” Irving asked nervously.

“It’s too damp to find anything useful as a torch,” Joe replied, frowning and looking around. “We’ll be blind as bats once the sun sets if we don’t clear it, and the only thing I’d rather not do than spend a night here is ride blind. We’re just gonna have to push the horses and hope.”

But within another twenty minutes, it seemed to grow darker still, and from the tops of the great trees there came a rushing noise as some strong winds picked up, and then there was the sound of thunder.

So dense was the canopy that for quite some time no rain fell on them, although the air was so thick and heavy it made them wet just riding through it. Finally, though, it filled the upper reaches and began running off, not as rain but more like the buckets of giants being emptied on top of them. They were forced to stop, not only because of their own problems but because it was dangerous for the horses, and they could only find as dry a place as they could up against some big trunks, hold the horses, and wait it out.