The Coming Of Wisdom (48 page)

Nor was the god’s riddle much help now.
First your brother
 . . . fine, he had done that.
From another wisdom gain
—that was his new insight into the sorcerers. He had been spurned in Aus, turned the circle back to Ov, earned his army for the battle on the jetty . . . 

Finally return that sword, And to its destiny accord
. But what did that mean? When was “finally”? Destiny? The destiny of the sword might be to lead the tryst, but the sword had never truly been in Casr, so returning it to Casr was not the answer. Was be truly supposed to return it to the Goddess at Her temple there, so that some other leader could have it? He gazed lovingly at that superb hilt, the silver griffon, and the sapphire.
Over my dead body
!

Lead a tryst? Other Chioxin swords had done so. Somehow he felt that the destiny of the seventh should be more than that.

“The tryst?” Nnanji asked again.

“I don’t know.” Wallie sighed. “Maybe we’ll join the tryst—and if we do, then I don’t intend to be assistant quartermaster. I’ll be leader, and you’ll be my deputy!”

Nnanji’s teeth gleamed as he smiled at Thana—fame and glory!

“Or maybe we’ll have to stop the tryst, to prevent a massacre.”

“Stop the tryst!” echoed Nnanji in horror.

It was Cortez versus Montezuma again, a few firearms against a primitive civilization. The smart money went on Cortez. The swordsmen were at about the level of the Greek phalanx, the sorcerers were Early Renaissance—and that was a different league.

One thing was certain: if the tryst of the Goddess’ swordsmen went heads-down against the Fire God’s sorcerers using their traditional tactics, they were going to be devastated. Wallie’s duty—to his craft, to the Goddess, to his own conscience—was clear. He must prevent disaster.

How?

He would have to do some hard thinking before he got to Casr. Four or five weeks’ sailing to Casr . . . unless the Goddess wanted him there by lunchtime. The crew’s smiles were fading, and he could see that his doubts had alarmed them.

He put his arm around Jja and grinned to reassure them all. “Or perhaps the tryst is just a blind to distract the sorcerers, Adept Nnanji, while you and I do something else?”

“Do what, brother?” Nnanji asked, eager to hear and willing to follow his oath brother into hell if he was asked.

“Ah!” Wallie had no idea. “That’s the big question, isn’t it?” He mused for a while, but his mind was a blank. “Answer that one, friend, and you win an all-expense-paid trip for two.”

Nnanji looked puzzled. “To where?”

“To Vul, I suppose,” Wallie said, and then he laughed. “No, that’s just an expression. Don’t take me seriously.”

Wisdom seldom gave answers; it only redefined the questions. He had not known how to lead an army of swordsmen against sorcery. Against technology, though . . . well, that was another story altogether.