The Seer King: Book One of the Seer King Trilogy (19 page)

I heard footsteps up the path from the road, and put my hand on my sword. Out of the gloom came two figures — the old man and the girl who headed the knot of fugitives we’d passed a short time earlier.

Suddenly, beside me were Bikaner and Tenedos, their weapons ready.

“Good evening,” the ancient said. “Although I doubt it to be that. We saw you turn aside, and thought we might, in the name of the merciful Irisu and Jacini, ask a boon?”

The girl stepped forward.

“We are the only survivors of the village of Obeh,” she said. “All our men were either killed or forced into the service of that dog Chamisso Fergana, and our village was burnt, our few treasures stolen, many of us outraged, and our livestock slaughtered for sport.

“We were told only by Chamisso Fergana’s mercy were we allowed life, but this was a temporary gift, and we had best not chance further indulgence but flee at once.

“Now we have nothing but the road, and fear.

“We would ask one gift of you. Could we travel with your party? I sense you are good men, men of mercy, and we could be safe until we reached some settlement.”

“I am sorry,” I said. “But we are sworn to a task, and must travel fast and far.”

The girl’s face fell. “Could we at least take shelter here, with you, for the night?” she said after a pause. “One night’s safety, one night’s sound sleep, just for the babies, would be like the breath of new life.”

I started to say no once more, but stopped, thinking. I turned to Seer Tenedos. He motioned me aside.

“I see you may be thinking what I am,” he said. “These poor people might well provide an excellent cover for us, for the night. If Irshad has magical guardians out, might they not think we are no more than a group of villagers on the move, our men appearing to be part of their band?”

That
was
exactly the thought in my mind. I nodded, and as I did, a wave of warmth came. I’d felt badly enough having to ride past these folk on the road with nothing more than a few coppers to give them; one of a soldier’s duties is to protect those who are helpless.

Bikaner, too, was nodding. “Aye, sir,” he said. “That’s a rare idea. I’ve not liked th’ idea of those poor bastards Wanderin’ the roads with no man t’stand between them an’ a reiver’s pleasure.”

And so it was decided. The young woman, who introduced herself as Palikao, wept her thanks.

“You are most generous,” the old man, whose name was Jajce, said, “and you have given us two great gifts. Not only this night, when all may sleep soundly, but also reminding us that not everyone in this world is evil, and wishes nothing more but harm to the helpless.”

He shouted, and the refugees shambled out of the darkness. We were not completely artless in our trust — I turned my men out, and we patted each of the civilians for arms. Beyond a few small knives for cutting up a meal, they were unarmed.

Just as no one can be more brutal than a soldier, the same man can be the most generous of all mankind. So it was with my men. They took charge of the poor wanderers, made sure each had a bed of straw, patted the infants, and tried to get the children to smile. But they’d seen too much horror, and the best jest or most outrageously pulled face received no better audience than a solemn look. Since we had more than enough food, we were glad to share what we had.

In my hut were Tenedos, Yonge, Karjan, and two others. We had an equal number of the refugees, including Jajce and Palikao.

The storm broke, and the rain roared, but in our huts it was almost comfortable, if you ignored the fleas, the reek of ancient manure, and the smell of bodies too long unwashed — none of which concern themselves to an experienced campaigner.

We were not like turtles, tucked blindly into our shell; the men on watch outside moved in pairs, never keeping the same route as they patrolled around the tiny hill. I checked hourly, and was pleased they remained very alert, although I was unsurprised. We were too deep in enemy territory and there were too few of us to relax.

Tenedos was on the other side of the low fire, listening to Jajce talk about what had happened, trying to winnow through the old man’s memories for information that might aid us when we came on Chamisso Fergana. I leaned back on my bedroll, listening idly. Palikao sat not two feet away from me. I noted, to my considerable surprise, that she smelled quite good, unlike the rest of us unwashed heathens, and wondered what scent she wore. She suddenly turned her attention away from Jajce.

“I cannot listen anymore,” she said softly. “It hurts too much to think of Obeh. All that is gone.”

Her shoulders sagged, and I wished I could comfort her.

“I suppose for someone like you, it might not have appeared much,” she said. “But I was happy. I was betrothed, and my husband-to-be and I had just begun our trial conjugality. Then, one day, a week before Chamisso Fergana’s savages came and destroyed Obeh, he announced he had determined to become a soldier, and, in spite of my tears, left me, promising he would return in two months, with great wealth.

“I cared nothing for that. I just wanted him.”

She looked directly at me, her gaze not shy.

“He should not have left,” and her voice lowered, “just when it was so … wonderful.”

My loins stirred.

“It is hard,” she went on, “trying to sleep in the cold, in the wet.” Her hand stretched out, brushed mine, and her finger ran down the wool facing of my bedroll. “Your sleeping robes look very warm.”

She smiled, and stretched, and somehow her robe became slightly disarranged, and I saw smooth, bare leg, and a momentary flash of darkness above her inner thigh.

Her flesh was clean, and on her ankle she wore a gold circlet.

Lust took me and shook me, and I almost could have taken her then, but forced myself to be calm, to wait until the fires were banked and we would settle down to sleep. Yonge and Karjan were already snoring. Then would come pleasures such as I’d never seen.

I looked at Tenedos, and saw his eyes start wide. I came back to myself a little, and looked at what he was staring at.

Jajce’s small pack sat between him and Tenedos. It had fallen on its side, its flap open.

Coiled inside was a long silk cord, gleaming yellow in the dying firelight.

Tovieti!

Shit! The spell broke, my cock shriveling as if it had never wanted Palikao’s false wet warmth, and the foolishness, brought on by their magic, that had allowed us to permit strangers, no matter how innocent looking, to come into our midst, was gone. I looked at Palikao, to see if she’d sensed the change, but she was staring dreamily at the fire. Her bare foot crept out and caressed my booted ankle.

Hells! I wondered if they’d already struck in the other huts, and if my men were now sprawled in death, my mission ruined before it could even be launched. The spell we’d been ensnared in was complete — my sword belt lay all the way across the hut, and Tenedos’s lay beside it.

The seer saw I’d noted the cord. I saw his brow furrow in thought, then his hand slip to his side, and pick up one of the long leather thongs used to bundle his sleeping robes. He then looked pointedly at me: Do something!

I suddenly sat bolt upright, coughing uncontrollably. Both Jajce and Palikao pretended concern, and Damastes used my diversion to reach across and, in a flash, touch the leather to the silk strangling cord. His lips moved, and he ran the leather through his fingers, coiling it to and fro.

My coughing spasm eased, and I reached for a canteen, to continue the charade, when Palikao spoke, very calmly:

“They know who we are.”

Her hand dove into her robe, and emerged with that deadly cord. I threw myself on her, trying to pinion her hands, and it was as if I was in the ring, wrestling the strongest opponent I’d known. Palikao had greater strength than any man I’d ever fought, including professional strong men at local fairs, and she easily broke her wrists from my hold, down to my chest, and pushed, and I went spinning away, through the firepit, embers flying, to sprawl on the other side.

She was on her feet, cord in her hands, a look of savage glee on her face, coming toward me, and now I heard shouts of surprise and horror from the other huts. Jajce was standing, his own cord ready, when Tenedos began to chant:

“Hear me

Hear me

You are one

We are the same thread

We serve one master

We have one master

There is one master.

Hear me

Tum, Tum

Obey me

Bind, bind

Bind and hold

You must obey

You must obey

Bind, bind,

Bind and hold.”

The yellow cord in Palikao’s hands writhed, came alive, as if it were a snake, and twisted its way around her wrists, twisting, turning, knotting, holding, and she struggled vainly, and then fell. Jajce’s own cord was tying him, and again I heard shouts from outside, but these were from women and children as Tenedos’s magic turned their craft against them.

Palikao tried to get up, her strength now no more than it should have been, but I was up and across the hut, reaching for my blade, then it was out, and I had its point at her throat. “I’ve not yet killed a woman,” I said. “But there is a first for everything.”

She stared up the long steel at me, saw truth in my eyes, and ceased struggling. I wondered if she would have killed me before or after we made the beast with two backs, but had no time for rumination.

“Karjan!” and my Lancer was beside me, his own weapon out. I looked about the hut. All of the Tovieti were safely bound by their own cords. I darted out, into the night, and checked my men.

By the grace of Panoan and Isa, none of my men were injured. They’d all fallen deeply asleep, and woke to chaos. Evidently the deaths of Tenedos and myself were to mark the beginning of a general slaughter. I told them what had happened, and who these “innocents” actually were, and ordered them into full fighting readiness. The team outside, on guard, had seen and heard nothing until the shouting started. I put a second pair out to back them up, and returned to Tenedos.

Karjan had pulled the Tovieti into a line along one wall. Their feet were now tied with conventional rope. Their eyes blazed helpless anger.

“Now what do we do?” I asked Tenedos.

“Kill the shit-heels, rip their gods-damned guts out slowly,” Yonge snapped, still shaking from the terror.

I waited. Tenedos thought carefully on the matter.

“No,” he finally decided.

Palikao laughed mockingly.

“Do not mistake me,” the seer said. “I have no objection to your death. Know that, woman.” He stared at her, and she nodded reluctantly. Tenedos took me aside.

“I think,” he said, “no, I know for sure that my magic is sufficient to bind them for at least two days. Also, I don’t think any of them are magicians themselves. What sorcery they used to fool us is vested in those cords, or perhaps they have been given an amulet to use. I didn’t sense their spells because all my awareness is reaching out toward that cavern, waiting for Irshad’s magics to search for us.

“I said we wouldn’t kill them because we want our men ready for battle — not shaking from having murdered babes and women, no matter how bloody-handed they might be.”

I agreed, and, quite frankly, was and am not sure I could have given the orders for such a slaughter.

Tenedos turned his attention back to Jajce.

“I propose to let you live, because the god I serve is stronger, as is my magic.

“But I am new to this land. What
is
your god?”

“We serve no gods,” Jajce said. “Gods, from the vanished Umar to the lowliest piss-souled hearth godlet, are all part of the Wheel, the Wheel we are going to shatter for a New Way.”

“Break by killing all?”

“Break by killing all who do not join us,” Jajce said flatly. “Kill them, then when they return from the Wheel, kill them as babes in arms, kill them in their wombs until the Wheel collapses from the weight of all the souls it carries. My own group has killed over a thousand, sometimes pretending to be woeful refugees, sometimes occupying an abandoned village and telling travelers we are its residents.”

“All men, even gods, serve someone,” Tenedos said. “Whom do you obey?”

“Our leaders,” Jajce said, looking uncomfortable.

“Thak,” Palikao whispered.

“Silence, woman!” the old man snapped.

“Who is Thak?”

Palikao pressed her lips together, said nothing.

“Thak, eh?” Tenedos said. “Is he human or otherwise?”

Once
more, no reply, and I knew we would get none.

“One question you might answer,” Tenedos said. “I understand you are permitted to keep whatever you loot from your victims, correct? And that if you kill enough, you Tovieti will live in the palaces of the rich, and so on and so forth. Correct?”

Jajce nodded. “That is the truth.”

“What laws will you live under in that golden time?”

“We shall need no laws,” Jajce said firmly. “Just men behave justly.”

Tenedos lifted an eyebrow, bent, and picked up one of the strangling cords.

“I see.”

An hour later we rode off into the night. “You s’pose,” Bikaner said quietly, “they’ll work their way out of th’ ropes ‘fore they starve?”

“I would imagine,” Tenedos said.

“More’s th’ sorrow,” Karjan said. “They ne’er would’ve given us mercy.”

We rode on in silence.

Before dawn, we chanced leaving the road for a nest of rocks, and chanced an hour’s sleep, watch-on, watch-off.

At first light, we moved on once more.

It rained steadily all that day. The track was deserted.

The villages we passed were either ruined or shut tight against the elements. We saw no man or woman all that drear day as the road climbed into the hills.

Through the rain and the mist hanging like curtains, we dimly saw a great mountain, black, wet, and evil.

“There,” Seer Tenedos said, “there is the mountain I ‘saw.’ In it is the Tovieti’s cavern.”

T
HE
C
AVERN OF
T
HAK

The mountain, about three miles away, looked like a god-child had built it of sand, and then haphazardly carved away with a spoon. The nearer side would be the easiest to climb, although its slope was steep enough, which meant it would be the most heavily guarded. I could see, even through the rain, where a trail had been cut out. The trail led about two-thirds of the way up, where the entire mountainside had a nearly symmetrical scoop out of it.