Sean Sarazin was desolate.
Douay was dead, and the secret of the whereabouts of the magical treasures had died with him. Sarazin's hopes of retrieving his ring of invisibility, dragon-bottle and enchanted candle were finished. Thus his hopes of ruling the Harvest Plains in his own right were shattered.
What's more, he could no longer hope to rule even with Lord Regan's help, for, since both Plovey and Farfalla were alert to his ambitions, conspiracy had become too dangerous.
The great game was over.
And Sean Sarazin was condemned to stand at the gates of Selzirk day in, day out, always with one mutineer or another at his side, waiting for the wizards and the Rovac to come past bearing the death-stone they had won from the wizard Heenmor. Life passed, slowly.
Then Sarazin's view of the world began to change.
First, he learnt that Drake Douay was still alive in one of Selzirk's dungeons. On cautious enquiry he found Plovey of the Regency had arranged for Douay to survive.
Why? Sarazin could not figure it out, so asked Jarl.
'Douay doubtless blames you for his torture,' said Jarl. If not you, then certainly me, for I helped teach him the meaning of pain. Plovey doubtless thinks to use him some day as an assassin.'
'Assassination,' said Sarazin, 'plays no part in the politics of Selzirk.'
'It is not traditional,' agreed Jarl, 'but things may change. Particularly if Plovey learns that our conspiracy has been renewed.' 'But it hasn't!' said Sarazin. Then: 'Has it?' Jarl laughed.
'This time,' said Jarl, 'we're going very, very carefully. The less you know, the better.'
So the conspiracy was still afoot. Douay still lived. The enchanted objects could still be retrieved. There was still hope!
But Sean Sarazin was still condemned to the never- ending monotony of gate-guard duty.
In spring, the absurdity of that duty became manifest when terrifying news came from the north. A new power had arisen in Argan. The Rovac warrior Elkor Alish had killed the evil wizard Heenmor, had seized control of the death-stone himself, and had used the power of that weapon to conquer the city of Runcorn.
Now Alish was demanding the surrender of the Harvest Plains. If such surrender was not forthcoming, then Alish would invade – and any army which stood against him would be turned to rock by the death-stone.
Refugees from Runcorn arrived in Selzirk – survivors of a battle which had been fought against Alish. Some had hands of stone, arms of stone, legs of stone. Some had faces partly transmuted to rock. Some died not long after reaching Selzirk. Dead or alive, they were proof of the disaster which threatened the Harvest Plains.
Panic gripped the capital. Many people fled Selzirk. Some committed suicide. There was a great conference attended by Farfalla, the Regency, the guilds and the army – and nobody could see how to stand against Alish.
The Regency now made its nature clear. There were brave men in its ranks – Plovey zar Plovey, for example, who feared little and confessed his fear of nothing. But most members of the Regency were cravens, and this majority passed an Emergency Executive Decree appointing the kingmaker Farfalla as Supreme Warlord for the duration of the war, this appointment to terminate ninety days after an Official Declaration of Peace.
The implications were clear. Since Farfalla now had total command of the Harvest Plains, the shame of surrender must fall upon her. Furthermore, if the invader Elkor Alish decided to execute Selzirk's ruler, then it was Farfalla's head which would roll. Farfalla acted quickly.
'Elkor Alish,' she said, 'is armed with a weapon of wizard make. The heroes who sought to wrest that weapon from Heenmor were charged with the duty of returning it to the Confederation of Wizards. We know the Con- federation wants this death-stone, and would not permit Alish to wield it in his own right. Therefore let us send messengers to the Confederation asking for help from that quarter.'
It was truly extraordinary for the Harvest Plains to seek help from wizards, for that realm had suffered much in the past from the rule of such. However, the times were desperate, so this expedient met with no resistance. 'Send me!' said Sean Sarazin. But Farfalla refused him.
'You,' she said, 'I no longer trust. You will stand guard at the gate. Your people will watch still in case wizards come south. Or spies – spies in the pay of Elkor Alish. That is your duty.'
Then Farfalla recalled Sarazin's brother Celadon from Shin, and it was Celadon she sent south to take word to the Confederation of Wizards. Peguero and Jarnel could not be sent, for they had not returned from Hok. Their fate was unknown, for the army they had led to Hok to fight against the ogre Tor seemed to have disappeared entirely.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
On an afternoon when the spring weather was hinting at the heat of summer to come, Sarazin was sleeping off a hangover in a room built above Selzirk's northern gate when he was awoken by Erhed. 'What is it?' said Sarazin.
'They're coming!' said Erhed, frantic with fear and excitement. 'They're coming, they're coming!' 'Who?' said Sarazin. 'Hearst is coming. Miphon is with him.' 'You're kidding,' said Sarazin.
But Erhed was all sincerity. Sarazin scarcely had time to arm himself and get down to ground level before the Rovac warrior Morgan Hearst came through Selzirk's gates in company with the wizard Miphon. They and their two companions were all mounted. 'He's lost his hand,' hissed Erhed, astonished. 'Who has?' said Sarazin.
'Hearst! That's him! The one with the hook for a hand! The green-eyed one is Miphon. Those other two – one's a woodsman from Estar, the other I don't recognise.' 'We'll know soon enough,' said Sarazin. And stepped forward to challenge the strangers. 'Halt!' cried Sarazin.
Before the strangers could flee or fight, Sarazin's men grabbed the reins of their horses. What now? Were the strangers spies, refugees, enemies, allies? Were they in flight from Elkor Alish or were they in his pay? Sarazin's men were looking at him, waiting for orders. -Plovey must not know of this.
That was vital. Plovey would know shortly, of course. But Farfalla must know first. If these uitlanders became allies against Elkor Alish they must be Farfalla's allies, not Plovey's. You,' said Sarazin to Hearst, 'come with me.'
'Who are you to command me?' said Hearst, his hand already on the hilt of his sword.
Sarazin, who knew the temper of the Rovac from long acquaintance with Jarl, feared a fight then and there. Adopting his most lordly voice, he said:
'My name is Watashi. I'm eldest son of the kingmaker, Farfalla, highest power in the Harvest Plains. Mark me well: I'm the best swordsman in Selzirk, and my blade is faster than yours.' The bluff held Hearst – for the moment.
'I've been here before,' said Miphon. 'Then, Farfalla's eldest son was Sarazin Sky.'
Sarazin was furious. How had the wizard learnt of that pet name? He hated it! Through gritted teeth, he said:
'So men have called me. But names may change with the times. Watashi is my name now, as I have told you. Come.'
And, to Sarazin's surprise, the strangers obeyed, and gave him no trouble as he escorted them to Farfalla's High Court. He had their names by the time they arrived.
On admitting the strangers to Farfalla's presence, Sarazin felt a pang of shame at the manifest poverty of his mother's throne room. It should have been rich with gold, silver, tapestries and ivory; it should have been filled with music and incense, with slaves in silks and supplicants crowding round the throne.
Instead, it was the same old place as ever, with just a few guards in cheap grey, a couple of scribes and a handful of serving women keeping his mother company. To Sarazin's mortification, Farfalla's skin was dyed red. How gauche! He was furiously embarrassed, since the fashion for red skin had already been fast-fading since the year before. Worse – Farfalla was wearing clunky copper earrings and peasant bracelets which belonged to a phase of fashion older yet. -What did I do to deserve such a mother?
Sarazin knew the strangers must be sniggering behind their mask-stolid faces, but suppressed his embarrassment, and, in his grandest style, said:
To the kingmaker, mother of all the peoples, ruler of the See of the Sun, greetings. Here before you stands
