Ah! “You had best explain that remark.”
A tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows. “Rap came to see you once, long ago. Apparently he detected power being used within the palace, although he never mentioned that to me. I assume that you had some sorcerous assistance in your climb to power?”
“You know how I detest sorcery.”
The quirky smile returned briefly. “You were always good at evading questions. All right, how much do you know of the present situation?”
“What should I know?”
“Rap and Shandie sent you letters.”
“I never received them.”
The frown returned, stronger. “That’s strange! The messenger was reliable, I was told. Well, they wrote to you last winter. Things have changed . . . If you have sorcerous counsel, you must know that the imperor in Hub is an imposter. You must know that Zinixo, the former warlock, has overthrown the wardens and calls himself the Almighty. And you know that my husband is leader of the counterrevolution.”
“Ah, Rap! He is still alive, then?”
“As far as I know,” Inos said cheerfully. The pearl dulled briefly.
She hopes so, Furkar whispered. She is not sure.
Unaware, Inos continued with apparent confidence. “The mundane world knows nothing of this. The fake imperor has withdrawn forces from the frontiers. You see your chance to invade. So, doubtless, do Dwanish and Nordland. Guwush will rise in revolt. That is the plan.”
A woman talking military strategy! Why should this obscenity, this perversion, make Azak’s blood race so? How dare she lecture him? He struggled to hide his rising fury. “And the payoff?”
“The Almighty will step forth to reveal himself as savior of the Impire and smite you all.” Furkar had mentioned this possibility.
“You know what he did to the goblins?” Inos added. “You are suggesting I postpone my campaign?”
“I would, if I were you.”
“If you were me, you would not be here.”
She smiled another of those heart-stopping smiles. “True. But you do see the risk? It is the only possible explanation for the Impire’s present vulnerability.”
“No, it isn’t!” Azak said grimly. “Yes, I know about the Almighty. I rejoice to see the wardens overthrown. I rejoice to see the imps suffer—and I think dwarves do, also. And jotnar and goblins, too. The Almighty is a dwarf. I think he is telling us we can now take our revenge for all those centuries of aggression!”
Clearly she had not considered that explanation. It shook her. When she spoke again, she was far less confident. “Then why did he destroy the goblin horde?”
“And all those legions, also? That was hardly the act of a savior, loosing dragons on the legions! I think that both massacres were merely a show of strength to impress the free sorcerers. It was followed by orders for them to enlist, as I understand.”
Inos nodded, biting her lip.
Azak chuckled. “I remember that misshapen runt as well as you do, and I am an excellent judge of men. He is spiteful, vindictive. He is malevolent. I say he revels in the mischief he can create.”
“That’s worse,” she muttered. “Evil for evil’s sake?”
Ha! She could not disagree when he pointed out the truth. He had bested her arguments as easily as he could overcome her physical strength if he chose to do so. The prospect was enormously exciting. None of his women ever put up a convincing resistance, even if he ordered them to.
“The Impire is vulnerable, Inos, as it has never been. It lies before us, naked and helpless. It is weak and we are strong. We can inflict what hurt we want and take any satisfaction whatsoever, any retribution we choose for past humiliations. It is mine to take!”
And so was she.
Her green eyes narrowed as she appraised the threat. “But what of Thume, Caliph? What happens in the Accursed Land? Many armies have invaded Thume in the last thousand years, and they have vanished without a trace.”
“Not all of them. Some have marched through without harm, seeing not a living soul. Yes, I have sorcerers to aid me. I lead a well-disciplined force that will do no damage to whatever spirit rules that land. We seek only to pass through and be gone. It is a risk, but one I have determined to take.”
“I think you are crazy,” she whispered.
He laughed. Crazy? He would show her what crazy was! His laughter grew louder, echoing through the chamber. She cowered back in her chair, and that amused him even more. “Perhaps I am,” he said when he recovered his breath. “But you should not apply the standards of ordinary men to me. I am one of the great figures of history.”
She seemed to have shrunk. She must know what he was thinking of now. ”What did you do with the others who were captured with me?”
“Threw them in a dungeon.”
“A shielded dungeon, I presume?”
He nodded. “So there are sorcerers among them?”
He glanced quickly at his magic ring, but her reply did not darken the pearl.
“Yes. And they are worried about the Covin’s scrutiny, so a shielded dungeon may seem like a welcome refuge to them.”
“Rap himself?” Dwarves, goblins, one jotunn, one imp—there had been no report of a faun, but he might be disguised.
“No, not Rap.”
Furkar: She is holding something back, Majesty!
Let her! It could not matter. Her associates could lie in that dungeon until they rotted. When he returned, Azak would investigate them. Until then, Evil take them!
Silence fell, silence broken only by the hum of insects. Dawn could not be far off, and he should sleep. Already the panoplies would be starting the first preparations-cooking food, harnessing the draft animals. He really ought to sleep, and put off whatever satisfaction he might find in this woman until another night. But why should he? His strength had not deserted him yet. He was thoroughly aroused now. Nineteen years ago he had begun this war because a woman had been stolen from him. Now he was ready to consummate all his plans and preparation by invading the Impire, and lo!-here she was, within reach. Utterly in his power. How wonderfully appropriate!
“You say you were on your way to Thume?” Green eyes studied him, and then she nodded.
“Then you shall go to Thume, and in a style befitting your station. You will go with me, as you went there before, but this time at the head of many tens of thousands.”
She frowned, seeming to consider the matter as if his words had been an invitation and she had a choice. “I trust you will not be expecting me to share your tent, Azak?”
Oh, that was superb! She had style. She would be worthy. “You will do whatever I say, like everybody else.”
“It will not be my preference.”
“No? Will you choose death before dishonor?”
She colored at the mockery and raised her chin in pathetic defiance. ”No, I do not expect to become suicidal. If you make advances, I shall not submit willingly, and I warn you, Azak Ak’Azakar, that my husband is a sorcerer and will hold you to account for your treatment of me.”
He sprang to his feet. “’Threats? You dare to threaten me?” He moved swiftly around the desk, shivering with joy and anticipation. “No one threatens the caliph!”
She rose, but he reached her before she could run. He grabbed her robe, hauled her to him, folded her in his arms. She struggled, but she was only a woman, small and puny. Not even a djinn! He crushed the breath out of her, caught her hair, twisted her face around to his. He sniffed the scent of her fear, saw the sweat shine on her forehead. No pretense now. Real, real fear.
“Threats?” He was panting and salivating so hard that speech was a real effort. “No one has threatened me since the night my wife was stolen from me. No more threats now, Inosolan?”
“Let me go, you brute!” She twisted vainly.
“Oh, that is trite, really trite. I would have expected better of you. Now let us see some passion!” He pushed his mouth on hers, crushing her even tighter.
She kicked at his shins and bit his tongue. He howled at the sudden pain. She squirmed, she screamed at him.
Bitch! She would scream to more purpose in a moment. He was past speech, past caring, more inflamed than he had felt in years. He took the neck of her gown with both hands and ripped it open. He forced her down on the desk and held her there easily with one hand on her chest, ignoring her efforts to punch and kick. She struggled uselessly while his other hand tore away her garments, exposing her breasts, her belly, then her thighs. Revenge! Justice! He would tame this yellow-haired bitch if it took him the rest of the night. Let her flatfaced sorcerer lover undo it then.