“He’s not powerful?”
Haplo jerked a thumb toward the cave. “Those mensch in there are more powerful.”
“You astonish me,” stated the dragon-snake, and it did truly seem surprised. It cast a slit-eyed, red-green glance at its fellows. “All our information led us to believe quite the opposite. He is the Serpent Mage.”
“Your information’s wrong,” said Haplo, shaking his head, unable to keep from laughing again at the thought. Alfred, a Serpent Mage! Whatever that was, he wasn’t.
“Well, well, well. My, my, my,” mused the dragon-snake. “This does require some rethinking. But, we seem to have strayed from your original point. I asked what could be done about the Sartan. You, I think, have the answer.”
Haplo took several steps nearer the dragon-snake, ignoring the faint warning glow of the sigla on his skin.
“These three races of mensch get along well together. They were, in fact, preparing to unite to go to war against you. What if we convinced them that they had a more dangerous foe?”
The dragon-snake’s eyes opened wide, the red-green glow turned completely red, was blinding in its intensity. Haplo squinted against it, was forced to shield his eyes from the glare with an upraised hand.
“But these mensch are peace-loving. They won’t fight.”
“I have a plan, Royal One. Believe me, if it comes to their survival, they’ll fight.”
“I see the shape of your plan in your mind and you are right, it will work.” The dragon-snake closed its eyes, lowered its head. “Truly, Haplo, you Patryns deserve to be the masters of this world. We bow before you.”
The dragon-snakes all prostrated their heads in the dust, gigantic bodies writhed in homage. Haplo felt suddenly exhausted, so weary that he staggered where he stood, almost fell.
“Go, now, to your well-deserved rest,” whispered the dragon-snake.
Haplo stumbled off across the sand, heading for the cave where the mensch sheltered. He could not remember ever feeling this tired before, assumed it must be a reaction to the loss of his magic. He entered the cave, cast one glance around at the mensch, assured them they were safe, then slumped to the ground, sank into a deep and dreamless sleep.
The king dragon-snake rested its head comfortably once again on its coils, red-green eyes gleamed.
CHAPTER * 16
SURUNAN CHELESTRA
ALFRED, ACCOMPANIED BY THE DOG, LEFT THE COUNCIL MEETING as soon as he possibly could and began to roam about Surunan. His joy in his newfound realm had been destroyed. He looked at beauty that could no longer touch him; listened to a language that was his own, yet sounded foreign to him; felt himself a stranger in what should have been his home.
“Find Haplo,” he muttered to the dog, who, hearing the beloved name, began to whine eagerly. “How do they expect me to find Haplo? And what am I to do with him if I find him?”
Distraught and confused, he wandered the streets aimlessly.
“How can I find Haplo when even you can’t find your master?” he demanded of the dog, who gazed up sympathetically but was unable to supply an answer.
Alfred groaned. “Why don’t they understand? Why can’t they just let me alone?”
He stopped, suddenly, looked around. He had traveled farther than he had intended, farther than he’d ever been before. He wondered bleakly if his body—as usual—had decided to run away and had not bothered to inform his brain of the decision.
” ‘We only want to ask the Patryn questions.’ Samah’s words, and the Councillor wouldn’t lie to me. He couldn’t lie. One Sartan can never lie to another.
“Why, then,” Alfred asked the dog unhappily, “don’t I trust Samah? Why do I trust him less than I trust Haplo?”
The dog was unable to say.
“Perhaps Samah’s right.” Alfred continued, a prey to misery. “Perhaps the Patryn has corrupted me. I wonder if they have the power to do that? I never heard of a Sartan falling under a Patryn’s enchantment, but I suppose it’s possible.” He sighed, passed his hand over his bald head. “Especially with me.”
The dog saw that Alfred was not, after all, going to produce Haplo on the spot. Panting in the heat, it flopped down at the Sartan’s feet.