three-year-old in far Esser Rarioch! Oh, how I cursed those damnable Star Lords. For I saw through all the splendid shimmer of power and gallantry in this young man the inner core of harsh bitterness. I thought then that his hatred of his father would make the hatred of Vax as the mewling of a kitten.
Someone at my back said, not loudly but loudly enough for us all to hear, “It is the famous Krozair, Pur Zeg. The son of Pur Dray Prescot!”
“Aye!” shouted Zeg. He whirled past me and the blade switched from my throat. I did not think there were many men who would have been allowed to keep a blade at my throat like that. “Aye! I am the son of Pur Dray Prescot. And if any man speaks the name again, I shall-”
With the old venom cutting through my voice so that my son Zeg swung back, shocked, I said as I had said to Vax, “And do you hate your father so?”
“If the yetch were here I would strike him down without another thought than that of justice achieved.”
I could see Fazhan, who had gone into the knot of Krozairs, talking away and nodding his head and pointing at me. He was a good man. Zeg, who had once been three years old and called Segnik, after my comrade Seg Segutorio, swung back to glare at me in a way I fancied I had seen in my mirror.
“You who call yourself Dak! You do not address a Krozair with fitting respect. Do you not know the Krozairs are the only salvation of Zair? Only we can save you. You have been deserting and have been taken up. You will all hang.”
My men started yelling at this, and then a Krozair Brother, an experienced fighter, stepped forward and spoke privately to Zeg. I had searched each Krozair face and knew none of them. Had one been present in the Hall of Judgment in Zy then I would have had a pretty dance before I won free. But none had. They had all been out aroving the inner sea, fighting-Krozairs. This Red Brother spoke to Zeg and Zeg turned to me and had the grace to say, “I understand you command in Zandikar, and that King Zinna is dead.” And then — and I swear Zeg was a Krozair first, last, and all the time — I saw the abrupt and brutal horror flower in his face.
Before he could agonize too long, I said, “Miam is safe. She is the queen of Zandikar. I am about her business. Cast off your
— if I can get free of a pack of chattering Krozairs and go fight Magdaggians.”
Some of the Krozairs let rip gasps of outraged horror at this. But time
“You speak with a big mouth, Dak.”
“Pur Zeg.” I said the word and savored it. One day he would tell me how he had achieved the coveted
“Z.” If we both lived, that was. “I must go. For the sweet sake of Zair, clear your ship from my bows. Do you want the city to fall?”
He glared; but already men were pushing the swifters free. I shouted a few short, harsh commands, for the seamen of
“I came straight here as soon as I heard the city was besieged. The Dikar was open; but I think you will find it closed by Green swifters by now.”
“Thank you for the warning. Now pull into Zandikar and bid them carry out my instructions faithfully. They are to concentrate in the strong places and resist. You know your brother Drak flies here with an aerial armada?”
His face lit up. Well, that might be brotherly love. It could merely be a warrior’s joy that reinforcements were on the way.
“I will pardon your uncouth manners, fambly, for that great news. But, the next time we meet, I warn you. Keep a civil tongue in your head lest you lose it.”
I said, “Do you mean the head or the tongue or both? Did you not receive proper tuition in Kregish?”
Before he could react, for although he was very quick I think his old father still held an edge there, I bellowed off forward and my oarsmen settled at their looms. There were no longer sixty of them, alas, and I turned from the forecastle and roared back, “are you sailing with us or not? Your swifter has her oars out. If you do not use them in a moment or two we’ll be on our way.”
The Krozairs jumped up onto the bulwarks and ran along the oars and thence along their own oars to their ship. I guessed they were fuming. But Zeg might still suspect our motives and he would wish to be with Miam and where the fighting was to be expected. What he would say when he saw Vax intrigued me.
He shouted a last baleful warning as the ships parted company. “Do not forget what I have promised you, Dak, when you return — if you return.” The words spit into the overclouded sky. “You have the word of a Krozair.”
He had looked resplendent — superb, brilliant — striding down the blood-soaked deck among the corpses, his weapons agleam, his helmet flaunting the brave scarlet feathers, his white surcoat with the coruscating device of the Krzy. He was my son. And all we could do was shout threats at each other. So, and to the vast surprise of my men, I bellowed back mildly. “I’ll be back. And mind you keep Zandikar safe for Queen Miam — Krozair.”
All the same, as we glided on and at last and thankfully plunged into the concealment of the rushes, I reflected that he had been overly mild for a Krozair. I know I have a daunting way with me; but Zeg was of that stamp of young men fanatical about their beliefs. That was clear. I had heard it spoken and had joyed in it. He had gone to the sacred Isle of Zy at a very young age, soon after I had disappeared when he’d been three. He had not had the earlier and wider education of Drak. He was obsessed with his Krozair vows, the Disciplines, the mysticism. The Krozairs had molded him completely — or so I had thought. And yet. .?
The uproar in that open reach of water might easily bring inquisitive Magdaggian swifters. I fancied Zeg would dispose of them smartly enough, and he had taken the swifter we had captured, manned by her ex-oar- slaves. As for us, we ghosted on and soon were able to turn and so make a landing on the mainland.
Here I had to be extraordinarily nasty to Duhrra and the others.
“No, you pack of famblies! I can get through — I hope. But you would all be taken up. Why, you’d start a- yelling Zair at any moment. This is Green work.” And I wrapped about myself the green cloth that I had brought and changed my Red helmet for a captured one sporting green feathers. “See?”
Duhrra said, “I was renegade, also, Gadak.”
“Gadak, is it? That proves nothing. I go alone.”
“Gadak” was the Grodnim name given to me by Gafard when I’d pretended to become a renegade. Duhrra had never got along with “Guhrra.” As for the others- “Take great care on your way back. And tell that fam — tell that Zeg to fight like a Valkan.”
Even if they did not fully understand, they would pass the message. Zeg was known to be a prince of Vallia, Zeg of Valka.
I did not wait for them to shove off but sprinted for the nearest cover. I did not even look back. The land here rose from the Dikars, with their ribbons of shining water, and trended upward and then leveled off. I passed through ruined gregarian groves, and through kools of land where the wheat had been cut down and used by damned Grodnims. Soon the camp appeared ahead, rows of tents, with lines of tethered sectrixes, lines of hebras, the artillery park where a few varters were being repaired. One or two fluttrells flew in the sky and so I walked with a brisk military gait, not running and not slouching. If anyone questioned me, I was a scout returning with information.
The park where the vollers had touched down lay over the other side of the camp. This was the main siege camp; there were others on the other flanks of the city walls. It should be mentioned here that I carried an arsenal of weapons, with reason. I had buckled on the Ghittawrer blade, the device removed. I had belted on a Genodder, the Grodnim shortsword, above that, to the right. The great Krozair blade hung down my back, and the green cape hid the hilt. Also I carried the Lohvian longbow and a quiver of arrows. I might not use all of these weapons; I felt it certain I would use some. When I add that the old seaman’s knife snugged over my right hip, those of you who have followed my story so far will know that was a habitual fashion with me.
At the center and in a cleared space lofted the ornate green and white tent of the king. I walked through the alleyways between the surrounding tents. Gafard’s tent would be nearby. No airboats lifted into the sky, so I was in time. I let out a long breath and stepped past the last tent. Guards ringed the king’s abode and tethered hebras waited patiently. The rast was in conference, then. He had slipped up, the cramph.
I put my foot down to stalk arrogantly on and a voice said, “Why, by Grotal the Reducer! Gadak!
