Wolves of the Gods

nest of blind monsters. Charize had claimed to be the protector of the master wizard's bones.

Harsh-voiced memory recalled the monster queen's song:

'We are the sisters of Asper,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We guard his tomb, we guard his tomb,

Holy One … '

Safar stared hard at Queen Hantilia, all his magical senses alert for the lie behind her subject's song. But there was none to be found.

Gripping the saddle, Palimak leaned back as far as he could to see around his father's bulk. The sweet voices of the great choir made him feel sorry for Hantilia's people. He didn't know why the chant should make him feel that way. It just did.

He listened as the chant continued its circuitous quest:

'It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We take the sin, we take the sin,

Holy One.

On our souls, on our souls,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

No one else, no one else,

Holy One.

It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady … '

Then Queen Hantilia saw them and her smile broadened. She gestured with a crystal-topped scepter and the acolytes' voices faded to a whispered, 'It is our fault, it is our fault … ' on and on without stop.

Hantilia gestured again and the crowd parted to make a long avenue leading to her throne. Safar noticed there were crushed flower petals strewn over the path, scenting the air with their sunny corpses. He slipped off Khysmet and hitched Palimak forward into the saddle, then he took up the reins and led horse and boy down the flower-strewn avenue to meet the Queen,

When he reached the steps leading up to the throne he stopped and bowed low, tugging at Khysmet's reins, who dipped like a veteran parade horse. Palimak surprised himself by instinctively going with the current and he made his own pretty bow from the saddle.

Hantilia applauded, saying, 'My! What manners! You must have been an elegant sight at Iraj Protarus'

court, Safar Timura!'

She nodded at her whisper/singing acolytes. 'I wish you had time to teach them what real manners are,'

she said. 'Unfortunately, my court has always been so small and unimportant that my subjects never received much practice.'

Safar made a small bow, but said nothing. It was the sort of royal statement wanting no comment.

Hantilia was merely setting him at ease and it would be the height of rudeness-an implied insult to her people-to agree.

The Queen turned to Palimak who was not used to royalty at all and was a little frightened by this imperious being. Moreover, with Khysmet between him and the ground he was nearly at eye level with Hantilia and he had shyness to add to his fears for being such an obvious target of scrutiny.

The Queen said, 'You must be Palimak. I've been looking forward to this meeting for quite some time.'

Her smile broadened. 'For one so young,' she said, 'you cut quite a dashing figure on that horse.'

Palimak just stared at her, blushing and feeling like a goggle-eyed, frozen-tongued babe. Her voice was warm and friendly, her manner seemed genuine. But the atmosphere had unnerved him-all those beings whisper/chanting, ' … We take the sin, we take the sin,/Holy One.' Except they stretched out the

'Holy One' so it was 'Hoo-llyy Won-ahh.' With a long hum stretching the 'ahh' even more so itall sounded like a funeral.

He felt a stir in his tunic pocket and Gundara piped up, using his magical voice that could be heard by no other. 'Don't be stupid, Little Master. She's only a queen. And not a very important queen at that!'

'Our queen was much grander,' Gundaree added. 'Much, much grander.'

'Even she had to get someone to wash her dirty underwear,' Gundara said. 'Just like any normal being.'

'No one is so royal,' Gundaree put in, 'they don't need to change their underwear.'

Palimak started to giggle, then came unstuck. He dipped his head, and in the manner of a courtier he touched fingertips to his brow, then his breast, saying, 'Your Majesty is too kind!'

Delivered in his high boy's voice, feet dangling many inches from Khysmet's stirrups, his little speech stirred laughter in the Queen. She covered with a cough, so as not to embarrass the child.

'Fine manners seem to run in the family, My Lord,' she said to Safar. 'You raised him well.'

'Thank you, Majesty,' Safar murmured.

The Queen's attention was still fixed on Palimak so Safar said nothing more. The exchange between them gave him time to cast a few sniffing spells to see what Hantilia was up to. So far he'd had little success.

'It's a pity your mother couldn't see you now,' she said to the boy. 'She'd be very proud.'

Once again Palimak's tongue froze. He gaped at her a moment, then managed to stammer, 'Y-y-you kn-kn- knew my mother?'

'I believe so, my dear,' Hantilia said, demon eyes glowing softly. 'Although I can't be certain, the resemblance is amazing.'

Safar forgot about his spells. He was as riveted as the child. Neither one noticed that the voices of the chanters had risen slightly. Singing, ' On our souls, on our souls/Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.'

And Palimak blurted-'My mother was human?' For some reason he'd always imagined his real mother was a demon.

The queen shook her head. 'No, but even so, my dear, you are quite like her. Your eyes … the shape of your face … all very much the same. The more I look at you-even though she was pure demon-the more certain I become.'

Hantilia leaned forward, examining him closer. She settled back in her throne. 'Yes, I'm quite sure of it,'

she said. Then: 'We called her Baalina.'

'Baalina,' Palimak said, rolling the name around, fixing it in his mind. 'Baalina,' he said again-but firmer.

Then he looked at the Queen, expectant.

'She was the daughter of one of my royal attendants,' Hantilia continued. 'Everyone knew and admired Baalina. She was not only a great beauty, with many suitors for her hand, but she was also a very powerful and promising young sorceress.'

She turned to Safar. 'She was with us when the Oracle appeared and bade us to begin this journey.' She sighed. 'We had no experience with the road, you understand. Many of my people were lost during those early days. Including the Princess Baalina.'

'Then you don't know what happened to her,' Safar said. Although he was intensely curious-Baalina's talent for sorcery explained much about Palimak's extraordinary abilities-Safar asked the question more for his adopted son than for himself. The boy clearly wanted to know, but was afraid to ask.

'I can't say,' Hantilia replied. 'Although we heard several rumors. The most reliable was that she had been rescued by a young soldier. A human soldier. The story was that they fell in love. A child was conceived and born.' She nodded at Palimak. 'You, my dear.' She frowned, trying to remember if there were any other details. Finally, she shook her head. 'That's all I know.'

'You mean, they could still be alive?' Palimak asked, voice trembling.

'No, my dear,' Hantilia said, kindly as she could. 'I don't mean that. All the tales I heard agreed on at least one thing-they died in some tragic incident. That, and the fact that the child was somehow rescued.'

She smiled at Palimak, saying, 'And now we know that's true, don't we, my dear?' Palimak nodded. To say