The Gods Awaken

She turned back to her son.

'What horse?' she asked.

Kalasariz felt the king's heart quicken. 'I saw a white stallion there,' he said, still pointing. 'Right in front of the black mare. It was rearing up on its hind legs.'

The queen snorted impatiently. 'I've lived with that mural my entire adult life,' she said. 'And there was never a white stallion in it.'

'But I only saw it a few days ago!' Rhodes protested.

'You were imagining things,' Clayre replied. 'It comes from drinking too much. Which I've warned you about many times. It doesn't do for a king to lose his wits to wine.'

Rhodes opened his mouth to argue, but Kalasariz moved in. Never mind the horse, he advised. Wecan talk about it later.

The king suddenly relaxed. 'I'm sorry, mother,' Kalasariz heard him say. 'I was obviously thinking of a different mural.'

But in his mind was a blazing image of his mother tied to a stake, flames leaping up around her as she writhed in agony.

Very good, majesty, Kalasariz thought-whispered. A most appropriate image. And I'd be pleased tohelp you make that dream come true. But only at the proper time, hmm? We have other businessto attend to first.

As if she had been listening in, Clayre said, 'We have pressing business to attend to, my son. Business I think you will quite enjoy.'

With a flourish she placed a small wooden container on the table. It was made of some kind of rare dark wood-polished and giving off a pleasing scent. It had hinges made of white gold, with a tiny lock also of white gold.

'I made this two years or so ago,' the queen mother said, eyes narrow as she poked something into the lock-a minuscule key, Rhodes supposed. 'About the time you lost your first battle to the Kyranians.'

Her voice dripped with accusation.

The king flushed at the humiliating memory. The Kyranians had presented a much smaller force than had the Syrapians. But as Rhodes and his army had marched into the valley the Kyranians had occupied, the airship had appeared overhead.

It was Rhodesa€™ first experience of aerial bombardment and on nights when memory of the incident kept him awake until dawn, he recalled in vivid and frightening detail the fire raining from the sky. The screams of his men set ablaze. The smell of burning flesh. The shock of realization that his army had turned tail and was running down the hill. Men hurling their shields and weapons away in their haste to escape.

'It wasn't my fault,' he muttered.

'Of course it wasn't, my son,' Clayre said, waving her hand airily, as if the notion had never entered her head.

Then her voice hardened. 'I can understand it happening the first time,' she said. 'There was the surprise of a new and mighty weapon. But it kept on happening, didn't it? Every time you faced Palimak Timura in battle. It was the same old story. He'd draw you into a trap. The airship would show up.

'And once again the Kingdom of Hanadu would suffer a humiliating defeat because the king was too stupid-or too cowardly-to come up with a solution.'

Rhodes burned with fury and embarrassment. Kalasariz said nothing to soothe him, curling himself up in a little ball of indifference just beneath the king's heart. Wisely staying out of the confrontation.

Clayre opened the box and took out a strange multi-colored object. She placed it on the golden tiles in the center of the table.

Rhodes puzzled over it for a moment, then realized it was a diorama of the Kyranian stronghold. It was a perfect replica, from the forested peak it sat upon to the old stone fortress his spies had identified as the place where Palimak and his key people were ensconced. Below the fortress was the village proper, market place in the center, slant-roofed homes spread out on either side.

Rhodes studied the terrain with a professional military eye, searching out the weak points.

Then his frown deepened. 'If this model was made two years ago, mother,' he said, 'then how have you managed to put in details my spies didn't map out until several weeks ago?'

He pointed at the turreted gatehouse guarding the entrance to the fortress. 'That's where Palimak has set up his command post and sleeping quarters. Two years ago it was in ruins. And my spies have only just reported its reconstruction.'

The witch queen chuckled, in that maddeningly condescending manner she had. 'Either my spies are better than yours, my son,' she said. 'Or your spies work for me first-and you-second.'

Clayre gave him an amused look. 'If I were you I'd decide in favor of the former, because the latter would only put you to unnecessary anguish and work. This is not the time to dispose of all your spies, you know. You'd have to train a whole new crew.'

Another chortle. 'And you still wouldn't know if they were yours or mine.'

Rhodes lost all patience. 'What exactly do you want, mother?' he snapped. 'All my young life you said your greatest desire was for me to be king. But now that I'm king you seem to do everything to subvert me.'

Clayre pretended to be shocked at his charges. 'Me?' she mocked. 'Subvert you? My only son? My heart's desire?'

She placed an insincere palm across her shapely bosom. 'Why, I only want what is best for you. I have no other ambition but to see you become king of all Syrapis. Is that not our family's destiny? A destiny I have sought from the moment I learned the story behind that painting?'

She indicated the mural of the mounted king and princesses. The gesture took some of the heat out of Rhodes. Clayre supposed it was because of the strength of her argument. Actually, it was because Rhodes had remembered the white stallion.

Where had it gone? Dammit, he hadn't been drunk when he'd first spotted it! His brow wrinkled as he wondered if his mother had commanded one of her artist slaves to paint the horse out, just to bedevil him.

Kalasariz stirred. Something was going on. Rhodes was thinking about that horse again. And what was this about mural-painting slaves?

Clayre asked, 'Do you recall the tale, my son?'

Rhodes shrugged. 'Yes, mother,' he said. 'I remember it very well.'

'Even so, perhaps I should tell it again to refresh your memory,' she said. 'And also for the benefit of our new friend who resides within you.'

But to Kalasariza€™ disappointment, Rhodes chose this time to dig his heels in. 'If you please, mother,'

he said, 'let's leave it for another time. I've much to do, what with the earthquake. Besides, I'm far more interested in what you intend to accomplish with that.'

He pointed at the diorama. 'How will it help in our fight against Palimak Timura?'

Clayre frowned, clearly irritated at her son's impatience. Then she shrugged, 'Very well,' she said. 'I'll leave the story for another day. As for that model, I'd intended to use it as a focal point for a spell I cooked up with Charize. A bit of magic that would cause the Kyranians no end of trouble and more than a few deaths. With luck, it might have even resulted in the rather gruesome demise of Palimak Timura himself.'

The witch queen sighed. 'But Charize's own death put paid to that plan. As I said before, alone I don't have enough magical strength to perform the necessary sorcery.'

She smiled. 'But that was yesterday's disappointment. Today, the sun is shining brightly and our hopes are reborn. For now we not only have the assistance we require, but a whole new plan to bedevil our enemies.'

'When do you want to start?' Rhodes asked, assuming correctly that his role as host to Kalasariz meant his presence would be needed.

Clayre motioned at the table. 'I'm never one to put off a devilish deed that needs to be done,' she said.

'So why don't we begin now?' She gestured for him to approach the table.

Rhodes obediently moved forward. Then he hesitated. 'There's only one thing,' he said.

'And that is?' Clayre asked.

'Have you forgotten your granddaughter is being held hostage by the Kyranians?' He pointed at the model. 'What if this spell endangers Jooli?'