but very happily married to Lol Polisto in all ignorance that her real husband was not dead, was generally regarded as being dead. Seg thought so. I cleared my throat. “Seg is unhappy, yes… But that does not mean you will be.”
“It does not. If I am to be a kov I would like to take over Seg’s kovnate of Falinur. They are a bunch of rogues who deserve to be brought into a better understanding of life.”
I was astounded. Then it was my turn to laugh. “I have spoken to Seg about his kovnate. He remains a kov. But, Turko, you have the lands and the titles and are the Kov of Falinur.”
“Right,” he said, and I did not miss the ring in his voice. “I thank you for this, majister. There will be changes. And the first will be to alter that damned miserable ocher and umber checkerboard schturval.[4]
Those colors for your kovnate clothes and symbols are depressing. I shall border each square with a nice thick line of cheerful red.”
“Quidang!” I said, and thus mocked him in turn.
He was filled with a bubbling confidence, which both amazed and heartened me. I had been totally unsure how he would take to the idea that he was no longer to stand at my back in battle with his shield. I had wondered how he would receive the comical notion that he should be a kov, with titles and estates and cities owing allegiance to him. He seemed to be thriving on the latter idea, and I, shrewdly I suppose, surmised he had not given up on the former and would seek to stand with me in battle as always. Korero would have to be handled, too…
So, as we found the hidden voller and all climbed aboard, I felt that the future for the midlands of Vallia looked brighter than it had for seasons.
We took off and soared away, heading for the islands of Vallia and what was left of my empire. And, at the thought, I suddenly felt a coldness, and stupidly longed to be down the Moder with all the Monsters and menace… By the Black Chunkrah! A few footling fun and games around passages and secret doors and ghoulish weirdies seemed then to be children’s pastimes beside the job facing me in Vallia and all of Paz. Again and again I had tried to throw off the yoke, and always some stupidity in my own nature forced me to resume the burden. The single decisive fact impelling me to go on was simply this: that I had been called on, chosen, fetched by the people of Vallia to lead them in their way of life and their struggle for freedom.
My comrades were individual people, with strong characters and minds of their own. If, sometimes, it sounds as though I ordered them about willy-nilly, this is not so. Each one was a personality, a real living, breathing person, and if I fail to bring them vividly alive to you in these tapes, then the lack is mine, the loss yours, for, by Zair, they are a bonny bunch!
Now Turko said to me, “I see you fly due west. So you do not intend to chance the mountains?”
I shook my head.
“This voller may not let us down as those cranky rubbish heaps from Hamal so often do. But the mountains offer a risk we do not have to accept.” I looked at him. “Anyway, I’ve a mind to fly over Rahartdrin.”
I had told him how we had lost contact with so many of the outlying provinces and islands. Rahartdrin, the large island off the southwest of Vallia, was the kovnate of the Lady Katrin Rashumin. As a friend of Delia’s, her welfare concerned me. No news had come out of that part of the empire, and all our spies had either reported failure or had not returned.
Turning north off the west coast of Pandahem, we soared on over the southern reaches of the Hobolings and struck out across the Sea of Opaz. The whole distance was above seven hundred dwaburs and we estimated should take us the best part of three days, as the flier was not of the fast variety. We took turns to conn the helm and stand by the levers, Saenci catered splendidly, and we bustled through the skies of Kregen in fine style.
The strategic concept of having to stop for fuel, and have coaling stations conveniently scattered across the world, was one with which I was at that time unfamiliar. Vittles and water were the limiting factors in a journey time. The silver boxes, the vaol and paol, with their mix of minerals and gas, upheld us and drove us on, so there was no need to make any halts.
Out over the Sea of Opaz, the islands of the Hobolings dropped astern; looking for the dawn and then a few burs of sunshine before we reached Rahartdrin, I stood at the controls and felt the lightness of spirits on me. I felt more free then I had for ages, and this despite the ponderous weight of the problems facing me at home. Going back to Delia; that was the answer. So I stood there and snuffed the night air and Deb-Lu-Quienyin appeared at my side.
His ghostly form glimmered spectrally against the side of the voller. I could see the canvas stitching through him.
He gestured. Commandingly, he pointed two points off the starboard bow. Darkness shrouded the sea, with the massed glitter of the stars above and the Twins fast sinking in the west. Then he stabbed his fingers into the air, five fingers, and his mouth framed the word “Bur.” The Kregan bur is forty terrestrial minutes long and there are forty-eight of them to a Kregan day.
I moved the controls and the voller swung onto the heading Quienyin indicated. The Wizard of Loh smiled, and pushed his turban straight, and disappeared.
Well, I said to myself, lucky Andrinos and Saenci had not witnessed that supernatural manifestation. I felt the chill. Yet how splendidly different this apparition from those with which that egomaniacal cramph Phu-Si-Yantong favored us!
Turko came on deck at the change of course. He yawned.
“In about five burs’ time, Turko, we shall see something interesting. The suns should just about be up by then.”
He looked at me. “What-?”
A brief, a very brief, explanation had to suffice.
“And this Wizard of Loh. You will no doubt kick Khe-Hi-Bjanching out as you-”
“Now, Turko!”
But he was smiling, and as we sailed on he launched into a summary of his plans for his new kovnate. I listened. I fancied the recalcitrant folk of Falinur were in for a shock. Turko had seen how Seg’s methods had failed to impress. As I listened I realized that Seg had attempted to do things in the way he knew I would approve, without force. Turko was prepared to bear down that much harder — well, by Vox! So was Seg; but he had genuinely attempted to apply the new principles we all wanted to bring to the hard and harsh world of Kregen. There was a lesson here. But, I knew, I would not give up my plans, even if, from time to time, they were temporarily set back.
As for Quienyin, this visit proved to me he had been accepted in Vallia, and for that I joyed. I broke the bad news about Falinur with a little lift of that mockery subsisting between us. “Oh, and Turko. The ex-pallan, Layco Jhansi, has taken over in Falinur. We will have to send him packing first.”
Turko glowered. I had told him of the treachery of Layco Jhansi, the old emperor’s chief pallan. “I find it odd, to say the least, Dray. Vallia, the island empire, divided up into a parcel of warring factions. Odd, damned odd.”
“Odd but true. We hold Vondium and much of the south and midlands. But we must patrol these artificial frontiers, and hold strong reserves in loci where they can march instantly to any threatened point. And the flutsmen drop down anywhere, for they are returning to Vallia in increasing numbers. The world regards Vallia as doomed and as merely a fat prize to be sucked dry. Oh, and we have good friends in Hawkwa country, up in the Northeast.”
“And Inch and Princess — I mean Empress — Delia? The Blue Mountain Boys, Korf Aighos, they would not take kindly to these rasts stealing from them. That is certain. And the Black Mountain Men. Inch’s kovnate must have fought.”
“They both did and have kept themselves relatively clear of the vermin infesting our land; but it is mighty hard.”
He had received the news that our island of Valka had been cleaned up with joy. “I expect fresh regiments from Valka to join in the struggle,” I told him. “The job is immense.”
“Right. So between Inch and me, we can squeeze this traitorous Layco Jhansi until he squeaks.”
“You have yet to win Falinur back.”
“I’ll do that.”
He did not say that the gift of the kovnate was a poor gift, seeing it was occupied by usurpers. I felt fresh resolve in him, and knew the wise thing had been done here.
