but his heart’s in the right place. I hate to admit it, but
I’m actually starting to like him.’
Kalten looked around nervously. ‘Where is he now?’ he asked.
‘He’s out hunting. When we were knocking around those
cities by the lake, we persuaded him not to eat people. We got
him started on dogs instead. He really likes them, but there
aren’t any dogs here in Natayos, so he’s out in the woods probably
chasing elephants or something.’ Then something
flickered at the corner of Ulath’s eye. ‘What in God’s name is
that?’ he exclaimed.
‘What?’ Kalten asked, looking around in bafflement.
‘There’s somebody made out of rainbows coming around the
side of the building!’ Ulath gaped at the clearly defined shape
approaching. The many-colored light was dazzling.
That’s Xanetia,’ Sparhawk explained. ‘Can you actually see
her?’
‘Are you saying that you can’t?’
‘She’s invisible, Ulath.’
‘Not to me, she isn’t.’
‘It must have something to do with the peculiar time you’re
in, my friend,’ Bevier suggested. ‘You’d better let her know that
you can see her. It might be important some day.’
The shimmering rainbow stopped a few paces away.
‘Anakha,’ Xanetia said softly.
‘I hear thee, Anarae,’ Sparhawk replied.
‘It pains me to tell thee that I have failed,’ she confessed. ‘The
mind of Scarpa is so twisted that I cannot wring coherence from
his ‘thought. I did gently probe the minds of some of his followers,
however, and I must sadly advise thee that thy Queen
is no longer here in Natayos. When our enemies did discover
the subterfuge involving young Sir Berit, Zalasta did spirit thy
wife and her handmaiden away under cover of darkness. I shall
endeavor to glean their destination from the thoughts of others
here, an it please thee.’
Ulath’s heart twisted with sympathy at the look of sudden
despair that came over Sparhawk’s face.
They ran easily in their endless regiments, tall and lightly armored,
with their bronze limbs glowing in the cool grey light. The
towering King Androl ran smoothly at the front of his army. It
was good to be on the move again, and the prospect of battle
was exhilarating. Battle was meaningful, and one could actually
see results. The absence of his wife had thrust a thousand petty
administrative chores on Androl’s unprepared shoulders. It was
so frustrating to make decisions about things he didn’t really
understand and not to see any immediate results that would
have told him whether or not his decisions had been correct.
Once again the King of Atan thanked his God for giving him
Betuana for his wife. They made a good team, actually. The
Queen was very skilled with details. Her mind was quick, and
she could pick out subtleties and nuances that frequently
escaped her husband. Androl, on the other hand, was made for
action. He gladly let his wife make all the tiresome decisions,
and then, when it was all settled and they knew what they were
going to do, he took charge of carrying her decisions out. It was
better that way, actually. The King of Atan was fully aware of
his limitations, and he knew that his wife forgave him when he
occasionally overlooked something. Ffe hoped that he didn’t
disappoint her too much.
Her suggestion – she never gave him orders – that he take
the bulk of their people to the south end of Lake Sama in preparation
for a grand battle at Toea was exactly the sort of thing
Androl truly loved. Here was action, simple and uncomplicated.
The troublesome decisions had all been made, the enemy had
been identified, and all the boring details had been swept out
of the way. He smiled as he led his army into the last outcropping
of mountains some fifty leagues to the southeast of Tualas.
Betuana’s message had hinted that the battle at Toea would
be a titanic one, a grand clash at arms with struggling armies
stretching for miles and the ring of sword against sword reaching
to the skies. He would make her proud of him.
The route through the outcropping mountains led up a long
ridge-line, through a narrow notch and then down into the deep
gorge of a turbulent stream that had gnawed at the rock for
eons.
King Androl was breathing a bit heavily when he crested the
ridge-line and led his forces through the notch. The wasted
hours spent conferring with Ambassador Norkan had taken off
Androl’s edge. A warrior should never permit himself to be
lured away from the practice-field or the exercise yard. He
picked up the pace as he led his army down into the narrow
gorge, running smoothly along the south bank of the rushing
mountain river. If he was out of shape, his soldiers probably
were as well. He hoped that he could find a suitable place for an
encampment at Lake Sama, a proper encampment with enough
space for training and practice and those necessary calisthenics
that honed warriors to the peak of fitness. Androl was sublimely
confident that any opposing force could be overcome if only his army were
fully trained and fit.
‘Androl-King!’ General Pemaas shouted over the sound of the
turbulent stream. ‘Look!’
‘Where?’ Androl demanded, half-turning and reaching for his
sword.
‘At the top of the gorge – on the right!’
The Atan King craned his neck to peer up the sheer cliff-face
to the rocky brink high above.
The King of Atan had seen many things in his life, but nothing
to compare with the vast, monstrous form rearing suddenly
above them on the rim of the gorge.
The thing was glossy black, like polished leather, and it
had enormously out-spreading wings, jointed and batlike. Its
wedge-shaped head was accentuated by blazing eye-slits and a
gaping mouth that dripped flame.
King Androl considered it. The problem, of course, was the
fact that the towering creature was at the top of the gorge while
he stood at the bottom. He could turn and retrace his steps,
running back up the gorge to the notch and scrambling around
the rocks to reach the rim; but that would give the thing plenty
of opportunity to run away, and then he would have to chase
it down in order to kill it. In his present less-than-perfect condition,
that would be very tedious. He could always climb up
the cliff, but that would still take time, and the creature might
very well see him coming and try to flee.
Then, amazingly, the large being at the top of the gorge provided
the solution. It raised its enormous arms and began to
slash at the top of the cliff with what appeared to be fire of some
kind.
Androl smiled as the cliff-face began to topple outward, tumbling
and roaring down into the gorge. The silly beast was
accommodatingly providing the means for its own destruction
How could it be so stupid?
King Androl adroitly dodged a tumbling, house-sized boulder,
carefully assessing the rapidly growing slope of rubble
piling up at the base of the cliff.
The beast actually intended to attack. Androl laughed with
delight. The creature was stupid beyond imagining, but he did
have to give it credit for courage – foolish courage, of course,
but courage nonetheless. All the universe knew that Androl of
Atan was invincible, and yet this poor dumb brute meant to pit
its puny strength against the greatest warrior since the beginning
of time. Androl looked speculatively at the steep, growing slope of
rubble, ignoring the cries of those of his soldiers not nimble
enough to avoid being crushed in the avalanche rumbling down
upon them. Almost high enough now. Just a few more feet.
And then he judged that the steep slope had grown high
enough to give him access to the stupid creature roaring and
flapping its wings high above. He dodged another boulder and
began his rush, scrambling, dodging, leaping, as he swiftly
mounted toward the doomed beast above him.
When he was almost to the top, he paused, drew his sword,
and set himself.
And then with a savage war-cry he rushed up the remaining
slope, ignoring the momentary flicker of sympathy he felt for
the brave, misguided creature he was about to kill.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ a burly Dacite wearing a
shabby uniform tunic and holding a long pike demanded as
Sparhawk and Kalten pulled the wobbly cart with two large
barrels in it around the corner of the building.
‘We’ve got a delivery from Senga for Master Krager,’ Kalten
said.
‘Anybody could say that.’
‘Go ask him,’ Kalten suggested.
‘I wouldn’t want to disturb him.’
‘Then you’d better let us past. He’s been waiting for this wine
for quite some time now. If you keep us from delivering it, he’ll
really be disturbed. He might even be disturbed enough to take
the matter to Lord Scarpa.’
The guard’s face grew apprehensive. ‘Wait here,’ he said, then
turned and went along the back of the building to the heavy