the worst order. And may all the mother dogs of the world forgive me for slighting them.'
Meanwhile, Sergeant Hamyr was having a few quiet words with Renor and Sinch. When there was a lull in the conversation, he said, 'Me and the lads here,' he said, 'crave tha€™ honor of first blood.'
He turned to Leiria and saluted smartly. 'In other words,' he said, 'we'd be pleased to be in your troop, Cap'n, when the gates open in the morn.'
Leiria laughed aloud, her dismal mood swept away by the bright prospect of battle. 'Consider it done, sergeant,' she said. 'We'll all go out together and give King Rhodesa€™ scrotum a good squeeze!'
There was laughter all around, even from Queen Yorlain, who at first struggled mightily to keep her serene dignity. But eventually she giggled, then tittered, and finally exploded in earthy guffaws.
Drinks were poured and toasts were made. Iraj/Safar laughed and drank along with the others-but the whole time each man was considering much deeper thoughts.
Both were finding the war parlay immensely interesting. Their interest, however, had little to do with the nuggets each person in the group had to offer. From Leiria's proposal of a surprise counter-attack to Coralean's idea of false negotiations.
There was an internal understanding that was beginning to take root in each man.
Iraj realized he was deferring to Safar on all matters involving personalities and magic. While Safar instinctively gave way when Iraj was discussing military tactics and strategy.
As the conference reached its climax, to be followed by false pre-battle levity, each man became more impressed with what could be accomplished when they cooperated with one another-without hesitation, or second guessing.
Although neither man asked for a renewed truce, they ceased their internal struggle with one another. Iraj hoisted a goblet of brandy and drank it down. And Safar found himself enjoying the drink, along with the peacefulness that followed.
Then Iraj's attention was gradually drawn to Leiria. Her color was high with excitement, eyes dancing.
And then, to Safar's alarm, he felt heat rising in the body Iraj controlled. Legs that had once belonged to him, but now were no longer his to rule, moved toward Leiria.
Leiria looked up as Iraj/Safar approached and through the eyes Iraj provided Safar could see hope and love and pain and fear, all mingled together.
She dared a trembling smile of greeting and Safar could feel words that were not his own ghosting up for Iraj to speak. He did not have to wait to hear them to know they would be soft words, sweet words, and all of them traitorous to the core.
Prisoner though he was, Safar suddenly became aware that he still had a few small powers over the body that had once been his. He frothed up a bitter concoction from his belly and as Iraj opened his mouth to speak, acid flooded into the back of his throat.
Iraj felt the strong bile rise and it was all he could do not to spit. He swallowed hard, tried once again to speak, but only found more acid waiting to be coughed up.
And Safar said,
He left Iraj no choice but to turn away. But through his enemy's eyes Safar saw Leiria's face fall and the hurt shoot through her as she thought that Safar had spurned her.
Although he could no longer see her reaction, he knew that most likely darkened as Iraj turned his attention on the lovely Queen Yorlain.
Again he felt the lust rise-even stronger than before. Yorlain smiled up from her throne, eyes full of equal heat and the promise of parted lips pressed together and twined bodies tossing on and on throughout some fated night to come.
Smooth, seductive words came into Iraj's mind-so full of must that Safar could practically hear them spoken aloud before they were uttered.
At the same time Iraj clamped on a more powerful physical control to prevent Safar from blocking him and spoiling his fun.
Except, as Iraj bent low to murmur his words, Yorlain's eyes suddenly hardened.
And she said, loud for all to hear, 'You and your people are most clever, Highness. But there is far more to be concerned about than this coming battle with the barbarian, King Rhodes. In the scheme of things, he is nothing compared to with what is about to commence.'
As she spoke there was a rumble beneath them strong enough to make the castle sway. And from a distance there came another, stronger rumble, followed by a short, explosive blast.
Then silence. A silence permeated by the gas stench of the volcano coming to life.
Yorlain said, 'Did you forget the dance, Lord Timura? Did you forget the agony that awaits us all?'
And Iraj/Safar replied,
For a moment a frown spoiled Yorlain's beautiful face. Then she recovered and her features became blank.
'Two kings are required,' she said, 'to halt the doom Lord Asper has predicted. I see you-King Safar Timura. But I don't see the other king you promised. Dare I think that you might be lying to me? And if so, to what purpose? For you will die, along with me, your friends-and, indeed, the entire world.
'What say you to that, Safar Timura?'
At Safar's suggestion, Iraj bit back a sneering regal reply. He shrugged as if unconcerned.
'I told you before, Your Highness,' he replied, 'the other king will be with us shortly.'
Yorlain laughed, 'Come now, Majesty,' she said. 'You're toying with me. Why don't you admit it? Why don't you come right out and confess that
Then her eyes started to glow and at the same moment the room darkened so that the only light was that cast by her eyes, framing Iraj/Safar like footlights in a theater.
Outside came another rumble and explosion and the volcanic stench grew stronger.
Safar and Iraj found themselves suddenly frozen by her eyes. And from some place close by they heard drums and horns and the rhythmic slap of bare feet dancing in sand.
Then they felt their wills draining away as they heard ghostly voices lift in song:
Her lips the moon;
Surrender. Oh, surrender.
Her eyes are stars,
Her heart the sun;
Her sex a rose;
Surrender. Oh, surrender.
Night and moon. Stars and Sun.
Honey and rose;
Lady, oh Lady, surrender.
The others in the room heard nothing but the rumble of the volcano. But they were transfixed by the strange sight of Safar standing frozen in the pool of light cast by the queen's shining eyes.
Then the area around his body started to shimmer and his form became hazy, less substantial.
Palimak suddenly realized what was happening. He leaped to his feet, drawing his knife.
At the same time the Favorites caught the deadly magical scent and shouted a warning.
But Palimak was already driving forward-sprinting past the startled onlookers.
And then he grabbed Yorlain by the hair and slit her throat!
She fell to the ground, flopping horribly. But not one drop of blood came from the gaping wound.
Leiria cried, 'What have you done, Palimak?'
He didn't need to answer-for in the next moment there was a loud thunderclap and the ghostly figure of the Goddess Lottyr rose from Yorlain's corpse.
All her many mouths howled fury, poison dripping from her sharp fangs. Her six arms waved violently as if she were going to attack.
