The Gods Awaken

'However, one of the Nepenthe' s crew was badly injured shortly after she took sail. The captain thought the sailor was dying anyway and sent him back.'

Kalasariz wasn't satisfied. That's pretty damned humane, of the captain, don't you think, majesty?

Rhodes agreed. 'Why didn't the captain just let him die?' he asked Tabusir. 'And throw the body over the side. That's what I'd do, rather than risk security.'

'So would I, Your Majesty,' Tabusir said. 'But sailors are very superstitious. Especially this lot. I think the captain didn't want to spook the rest of the crew. Or, maybe it was Coralean. In either case, they thought it best to accept the risk. The injured man looked near as dead. How could they know he'd have a miraculous-and, for them, unlucky-recovery?

'In fact, Majesty, the man was a malingerer and a coward. First, he hears that the Nepenthe is sailing away from Syrapis for parts unknown. Then the Kyranian airship joins them. Coward though he might be, the man's no fool. It's obvious to him that if the Kyranian land forces are willing to part with the airship, something desperate-and quite dangerous-must be in the wind.

'So he injures himself-but not that badly-and takes a potion to give him a fever. So he'd look like he was at death's door. It's an old sailor's trick-well-known to this band of criminals.

'Then the moment he's returned to the fleet he takes an antidote. Recovers. And then goes off with his companions to drink and talk like, well … like a drunken sailor, Majesty!'

Kalasariz mental whispered: Admirable logic!

Rhodes nodded. 'Well done!' he said to Tabusir. He took a heavy, gem-encrusted ring from his finger and gave it to the young spy. 'Take this to the Treasurer,' he said with a wide smile. 'And turn it in for whatever it's worth.'

Tabusir was well pleased. He dropped to the floor and knocked his head against the pavement, thanking Rhodes profusely. Then he took his leave.

But just before the guards escorted him out, he turned back.

'Pardon, Majesty, but there's one other thing…'

'Yes?' Rhodes asked.

'There's a tavern at the port run by a man named Hazan.'

'What of him?' Rhodes wanted to know.

'He's a traitor, Majesty,' Tabusir said. 'And no friend of Hanadu's.'

Rhodes shrugged. 'What do I care what a lowly tavern keeper thinks, or does?'

Tabusir nodded. 'I understand, Majesty. Only … I was thinking … if you were to quietly do away with him … then substitute one of your spies … Well, the tavern is an excellent place for intelligence, Majesty, and…'

He let the rest drift away. It was too obvious, in to his mind, and might bore the king.

'That's good advice, young Tabusir,' Rhodes said. 'I'll think on it.' And he waved a hand, dismissing him.

Tabusir bowed low and exited.

Kalasariz said: I quite like the cut of that fellow. Reminds me of myself when I was just gettingstarted in the spy business.

Rhodes said, 'Should I promote him?'

Yes, yes, Kalasariz replied. An excellent idea. But we should keep him close to us, hmm? He'd beuseful for, shall we say, very personal errands?

The king thought this excellent advice. Then, armed with Tabusir's intelligence, he descended the long dark stairs to consult his mother.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

THE IMPS OF FOREBODING

For several weeks all was peaceful aboard the Nepenthe. The ocean was calm, the wind a sailor's dream. Brutar, the aptly-named captain of the ship, eased off on his men and the crew became less surly and settled into a somewhat more orderly routine.

The sea teemed with life. They sailed through enormous schools of fish, some of which were quite exotic and so colorful it was like sailing through a magical artist's pallet. Reds and greens and yellows flowing by in an endless stream.

Once they saw a huge crocodile chasing the fish and the colors spurted in all directions as they fled its gaping jaws.

The birds became so used to the Nepenthe that they grew quite tame-settling on the rails and mast spars within easy reach. The sailors thought this a good omen and started feeding them by hand.

It became a common but always comical sight to see a burly, scarred ex-pirate cooing over a seahawk as he tenderly fed it bits of biscuit and salt-beef.

Leiria and Jooli kept busy exercising the young Kyranian soldiers who had joined the expedition. Leiria and Palimak had hand-picked the lads, being sure to include Renor and Sinch who had proved themselves in many battles and were corporals now. She'd also brought along Sergeant. Hamyr, a grizzled old warrior with much experience to keep all the lads in line.

There'd been so many volunteers that Safar had assembled the entire army to console all those being left behind. And to remind them that the safety of their families and friends was at stake.

Safar suspected the sight of the twenty crack soldiers being put through their paces by the two magnificent warrior women had a little to do with the more friendly attitude of Captain Brutar and his crew.

Not only was the Kyranian equipment the best they'd seen, but the fighting tricks that the Kyranians displayed were enough to give any potential mutineer pause.

And, of course, there was the ever-present airship hovering over the Nepenthe. Some of the sailors had witnessed Biner and his circus folk in battle in the past-raining death from the sky-and word soon spread that they were to be feared even more than the soldiers.

Every once in a while Safar trotted Khysmet out of the comfortable stable he'd had specially constructed for him. First he'd have the men create a small arena on the main deck, covering the wood with a thick layer of sand to make the footing easier for the stallion. Then, with the help of Leiria and a few of the soldiers, he'd put on a thrilling one-horse cavalry display.

Weaving and bobbing in the saddle, while wielding a wooden sword. Ducking completely beneath Khysmet and coming up on the other side, like a warrior from the great plains of Esmir. Or rearing the stallion back onto his hind legs and letting him paw the air with his steel-shod hooves as if Khysmet were fighting off attacking infantrymen.

It always made for a good show and further strengthened the wary respect the sailors had for the Kyranians.

After awhile Safar felt confident enough to leave the Nepenthe and spend some time with his old friends aboard the airship. Sometimes Palimak came with him, sometimes Leiria or Jooli. But he always made certain that at least two of his commanders remained on the ship to keep watch on the seamen.

Traveling in the airship took him back to the carefree days of his youth when Methydia had rescued him from the desert. He recalled those times while scudding through empty skies like a cloud, watching the world pass beneath his feet. Standing at the rail, looking down at the small, sea-bound figures aboard the Nepenthe. Or simply sprawling on the deck, surrounded by friends and talking over old times and adventures.

The circus folk never forgot their true life's purpose, which was entertainment. They were always rehearsing or trying out new tricks. Sometimes Safar would join them and for an hour or so he could imagine he was one of them again. Sailing across Esmir, staging shows at festivals, fairs, small towns …

wherever the winds took them.

It was only during these impromptu moments that Safar could forget the nature of his mission and the heavy