Wolves of the Gods

queen.'

'I swear it,' Iraj said huskily. As he spoke he felt a strange sensation burn through his body and knew a magical pact had just been made. This was one promise he'd have to keep.

Sheesan smiled, eyes aglow with victory. 'When the time comes to confront Lord Timura,' she said, 'you must make certain that your Spell Brothers are close by. The casting will not only free you, but kill them, as well as Timura. Do you understand?'

Thrilled at the prospect of all his enemies being destroyed at one blow, Iraj nodded eagerly that he did.

'Go on,' he urged. 'What's next?'

Laughing, the witch drew Iraj into her arms again and they made even wilder love than before. When they were done she bathed him with cool water from a forest stream. And when Iraj was entirely human-too spent from lovemaking to be overcome by his shape-changer's side-she taught him the spell.

He was amazed at how simple it was.

Leiria watched the horizontal smear of light inch toward her. The smear broadened and deepened as it came, like a slow moving storm creeping along the earth.

'No doubt about it,' she said to Safar. 'It's Iraj. The way he's going he'll be on to us within a week.'

The two were crouched on a hill overlooking a swift moving river crossed by a sturdy bridge wide enough for two large freight wagons to pass with room to spare.

'He's moving more quickly than I expected,' Safar said. 'With an army that size I thought the most he could do was keep pace with us.'

'It's because he's marching all night,' Leiria said. 'I was on a campaign with him once when he used that trick. We'd set out at dusk and march until late morning. Then hole up in the afternoon to rest. Surprised the hells out of the enemy when we showed up at his door two weeks before we were expected.'

'Why didn't you tell me about that trick before?' Safar asked, a bit exasperated.

'You had enough worry on your mind,' Leiria said. 'Besides, there's nothing we could've done about it.

We're going as fast as we can. Scary stories wouldn't make us move any faster.'

Safar sighed. 'I suppose you're right.' He studied the horizon a little longer. Then, 'How long can he keep that kind of thing up before he exhausts his army?'

Leiria shrugged, then gestured at the approaching light. It was bright enough now to obscure the lower heavens. 'In this case,' she said dryly, 'he's in little danger of that.'

'Let's do our best to give him a nice long rest,' Safar said. He pointed at the bridge. 'Remove it and his engineers will need at least a week to bridge the river. From the map of this area, there's no other place to cross for miles.'

'And I suppose O Great Wizard,' Leiria teased, 'that you have some amazing magical spell that will do the job.'

Safar laughed. 'Absolutely,' he said. 'I call it fire. Perhaps you've heard of it? It's especially effective on wooden bridges.'

'My, haven't we been jolly lately,' Leiria said. 'If I didn't know better I'd say there was a woman involved.'

When he didn't answer Leiria looked up sharply and caught him blushing. He muttered something unintelligible, mounted Khysmet and cantered down the hill to the bridge.

Leiria puzzled over this as she hurried to catch up to him. Had she somehow stumbled on a little secret?

But that didn't make sense. Where would he meet a woman way out here?

Gundara and Gundaree were perched on a keg of honey, sucking on their fingers while they watched Palimak fuss over his masterpiece.

'Looks like a dog,' Gundara said. 'If you put some ears on it, that is.'

'It's not a dog,' Palimak scorned, 'and it doesn't have any ears because I haven't made them yet.'

Nevertheless, the next thing he did was form small pointy things on the odd-shaped lump of clay.

'Oh, now I understand,' Gundaree said. 'You're making some sort of an animal. Yes, now that I look at it that way I can see four legs, a tail, a neck, and I suppose that's some sort of head, right?'

'With ears,' Palimak said, showing him.

'The ears were my idea,' Gundara sniffed. 'Pretty stupid dog, if it didn't have ears.'

'I detest dogs,' Gundaree said. 'Filthy creatures. Always sniffing around our little home.'

'Remember the one that made water on us?' Gundara said.

Gundaree shuddered. 'Like it was yesterday, instead of six hundred years ago.'

'It was seven,' Gundara corrected.

'Six,' insisted Gundaree. 'I remember because our master was-'

'I told you,' Palimak broke in, 'that it's not a dog!'

He held up the object. 'It's a horse! See?'

Both of the Favorites studied the object, scratching their heads.

Finally, Gundaree said, 'I can see why you asked for our help. I hate to say this, Little Master, but your skills as a sculptor need a bit of honing.'

'I still say it's a dog,' Gundara said. 'A big black dog.'

'Maybe a little more green than black,' Gundaree said.

'All right, it's a greenish blackish dog,' Gundara said. 'But it's a dog just the same.'

'I don't care what you say it is,' Palimak scolded. 'I thought horse when I made it, so it's a horse. I even put a horse hair in it from Khysmet's tail.'

He picked up a sharp twig and poked holes in the clay for eyes. He examined his work and nodded in satisfaction. 'All I have to do is write my name on its stomach,' he said, flipping the clay over and sketching the letters with the stick.

Palimak plumped the 'horse' down on the wagon bed. 'Now, we can make it pretty,' he said. 'Make it so he can't help himself when he sees it and he'll just have to pick it up! Then he'll flip it over…' Palimak demonstrated, turning the clay so the belly and writing was exposed. '…And when he spots my name he'll read it aloud.'

'And that's when the surprise comes in?' Gundara asked.

'You guessed it!' Palimak said. 'That's when the surprise comes in!'

Kalasariz watched the engineers hoist the last timber in place and start to nail it down. In an hour or so the bridge would be complete and the army could march again. As he considered the rough but sturdy structure that spanned the raging river, he couldn't help but feel grudging admiration for the king.

Not long ago, when the scouts had returned with the news that the bridge had been destroyed, Kalasariz thought the task was hopeless and the canny Safar had foiled them once again. To his amazement, Iraj had been vastly amused.

'It's good see you in such humor, Majesty,' the spy master had said. 'Enlighten me, please, as to its source so I can join in your laughter.'

'Safar just made a mistake,' came the reply. 'He's playing to my strength.'

'To your strength, Majesty?'

'Yes, to my abilities as a general. And there's no man or demon who can match those.'

Then without further explanation he'd shouted to an aide, 'Call the chief of engineers! Tell him his life depends on how quickly he obeys my summons!'

A few moments later a badly frightened old demon had stumbled into the tent to get his orders.

That had been four days ago. Now Kalasariz watched that very same demon crouch with the work crew, closely overseeing the finishing touches. What Iraj had done was order the bridge built while they marched. Freight wagons were cleared out for the carpenters to work and the bridge was built in parts and by torchlight as the army moved on through the night. By the time they'd reached the river it was nearly done and only a little more time was needed to erect it over the stumps of the old stanchions the previous bridge had stood upon.

Kalasariz heard horses approaching from the other side of the bridge and looked up to see a group of weary scouts coming in to report to their officers. It was ironic, Kalasariz thought, that the first group to cross the new