Like a child in the schoolroom Zazoor dropped cross-legged to the carpeted floor and stared up at him, his face once more calm and composed, all shame wiped away.'The gods are not with Lional.' His smile was fierce.'No. They are not.' 'They have told you this, Shugat?'
'They have.' He raised his staff. 'My words are the words of the Three, of Grimthak and Lalchak and Vorsluk, Holy of Holies, greatest of all gods,' he said, his voice taking on the singsong cadence of holy pronouncement. 'Hear their words and obey or perish in Grimthak's flame, by Lalchak's teeth andVorsluk's talons.'
Zazoor pressed his face to the floor. 'What is their will, Holy Shugat? I will hear it and obey'
'You will ride to New Ottosland at the head of an army' he intoned. His eyes were rolled in their sockets, now, till only a yellow-white crescent remained, and the stone in his forehead blazed like the sun. 'A large army?'
He felt his crescented eyes flicker. 'Fifty men from each village one day's ride from the palace.'
'As soon as the sun sets I shall send the proclamation to each village leader on the swiftest camels,' Zazoor promised. 'And after that, Shugat?'
Slowly Shugat lowered his staff, blinking. His vision returned to normal and the andaleya's incandescence faded. Frowning, he stared at a fading shaft of sunlight then at last stirred and looked down at the sultan. 'After that you wait, Zazoor.' Zazoor sat up. 'For what?'
'For the whisper in your heart. It will tell you what to do.'
Zazoor nodded. Then he said, hesitantly, 'Forgive me, Shugat, but does it not seem to you, as it seems to me, that the gods' pronouncements have of late been more cryptic than once they were?'
Leaning forward, he patted Zazoor's cheek. 'When we are children our parents tell us precisely what we must and must not do, for our understanding is circumscribed and our knowledge of the world incomplete. But when we are grown they nod and say, 'We have taught you well. Go now into the world and remember what you learned at our table.''
'Indeed,' said Zazoor, and laughed. 'You are wise, Shugat, and patient beyond understanding. In the name of the Three I praise you thrice.'
Shugat nodded, acknowledging, but did not reply. His thoughts again were snared in the sunlight, and the memory of a man who yet disturbed him. A touch on his knee; he looked at Zazoor.
'Shugat? What is it? What have you not told me?'
'There was another man in the audience with Lional,' he said slowly. Then he pulled a face.'I say man, but youth is more truthful. A fingerful of years older than Nerim, no more.'
'Ah! The wizard. Nerim said. What of him? Lional has had many wizards since he came to the throne, each gone more swiftly than the one before. Nerim says it's whispered in the palace that Lional lacks the loving touch. Doubtless this one will disappear as quickly as the rest.'
'He is not like the other wizards,' said Shugat. 'From afar I read them and remained at peace. But this one? Power like a bud yet to blossom curls within his breast, and all around him a roiling of darkness.'
Seeing his discomfort, Zazoor rose smoothly from the carpeted floor, his eyes chilled to cold purpose once more.'He is evil?'
'No…' he said, after deep thought. 'Not evil. And yet evil surrounds him…'
Zazoor's frown was suspicious, it sounds most strange. What must I do with this wizard when I find him? Kill him? You say he is not evil but there is fear and doubt in your eyes, Shugat! I see it, plain as a bird in the sky. What is to be done with Lional's enchanter?'
Shugat sighed, i am sorry, Zazoor. On this matter the gods stay silent. I have asked them, for this Gerald Dunwoody fills me with foreboding, but all they will tell me is: wait!
'Then at least tell me this, for I trust in your judgement,' said Zazoor. 'Do you think him a danger to Kallarap?'
Shugat pursed his lips, considering. 'Perhaps. Or perhaps he is more of a danger to Lional. Or perhaps… at the end of the day when the sun has set and the camels chew cud in their stables… perhaps the biggest danger he poses is to himself.' 'As ever you speak in riddles, my friend.'
'The day I speak but plainly' Shugat replied, allowing himself a smile, 'is the day the gods have done with me!'
'A day long hence, I implore them!' said Zazoor, and kissed his fingers to the Three. 'Shugat, will you ride with me back to the court of King Lional?'
His bones were peevish just at the thought, but he nodded. 'I will. The gods decree 1 must return there and see their desires fulfilled. There is a mystery with Lional, his wizard and his blaspheming beasts that I must pierce to the heart lest it poison us all. For good or ill our future lies with them, and in this brewing storm… though why that is I cannot say'
'The ride to New Ottosland is long and slow,' said Zazoor. 'Can we reach it before the storm breaks?'
'Time has no meaning for the Three. I am given power to bend time, that it might serve our purpose and the purpose of the gods.'
'Truly, they are great,' Zazoor whispered. 'Shugat, pray with me.'
Together they knelt before the shrine and prostrated themselves in supplication. What Zazoor heard then, Shugat did not know. But in his heart he heard the whispers of the gods and felt himself complete, and at peace.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
'On!' shouted Melissande, and kicked her suite's unyielding front doors. 'I hate you! Open up right now or I'll — I'll give you woo amp;wormV
It was an idle threat. Not only did Madame Ravatinka not believe in teaching practical applications of magic until Second Year, she also frowned on offensive thaumaturgy. Because witches were ladies, and ladies were nice, and nice meant doing nothing aggressive.
Thwarted, Melissande hobbled to the nearest chair, shoved its occupying books to the floor and flung herself into it, feeling remarkably foolish. The doors were locked. She knew they were locked. Expecting them to miraculously open with a threat made as much sense as looking for one lost shoe in the same cupboard you've already searched six times.
Staring at the doors she chewed her thumbnail, savagely.
Something was very wrong here. Well, more wrong than being cooped up in these wretched rooms unable to do a stroke of work because the etheretic transductors still hadn't returned to normal and Lional had forbidden contact from anyone beyond the palace which meant every meeting scheduled for the past five days had been cancelled and what that was going to do to the Treasury's cash flow and the kingdom's trade balances she couldn't begin to think about without a cold compress for her forehead and a very large glass of whiskey for the rest of her. Oh dear lord how she loathed her brother.
Returning to the doors she pressed her cheek to the timber and listened. Nothing. She took a deep breath. 'Ronnie? Ronnie, are you there yet? Is anyone there? Answer me!'
Silence. Ronnie was gone and no other guard had taken his place. Neither had Bedford responded to her summons via the bell-rope, and he'd been faithfully delivering her meals since this ridiculous incarceration had begun. It didn't make sense.
'Well,' she said to the world at large. 'Bugger this for a barrel-load of monkeys.'
Muttering, she retrieved from her sock drawer the special set of keys she kept hidden there and returned to her stubbornly locked suite doors. Lional wouldn't like it one little bit, her just letting herself out with incanted keys she wasn't supposed to own, but that was too bad. He shouldn't have turned into such an unreasonable bully. He only had himself to blame. She'd get him to see sense once he'd calmed down. That was one of her greatest talents, getting Lional to see sense in the long run. Usually.
Shoving aside that unwelcome thought, she sorted through the key collection until she found the big one with all the curlicues and stuck it in the lock. There was a sharp crack, an acrid puff of smoke and a flash of unbearable heat. Crying out, she let go of the key ring… and watched the incredibly expensive incanted keys melt and dribble down the varnished timber into a sizzling puddle of bronze on the floor. Her jaw dropped.' What?'
