Accidental Sorcerer (18 page)

He had no choice. No
choice
unless he wanted to start a war right here, right now. Damn damn
damn ...

'Yes,' he croaked. 'We're friends.'

Lional jumped to his feet, arms wide. 'And there you have it! Now, Nerim, Shugat, I expect you're wondering what this means. Well, what it means is
this.
The gods desire New Ottosland and Kallarap to forgive all debts and grievances and henceforth live together as loving brothers!'

Stony faced, Shugat looked from Lional to Tavistock to Gerald to Reg. 'This is what
you
say the gods mean. / say they mean for you to pay us all the money you owe and cease your unholy oath-breaking on pain of death!'

'Oh,' said Lional, disappointed. 'Well. In that case it would seem we've reached what's known as an impasse.' He clapped his hands. 7 know. How about this?' He gazed at the frescoed ceiling. 'Gods of Kallarap hear my plea! If I have wronged you and sinned in your sight, show me your displeasure! Strike
dead
this bird and this lion in a demonstration of your holy wrath!'

Nothing happened.

Very slowly Nerim turned to the silent holy man. 'Shugat? He has spoken to our gods and our gods have answered him. Yet they did not answer
you.
How can this be?'

'It is a trick,' said Shugat. His voice trembled. 'This man is an unbeliever, O Prince. He is not of the Blood or the faith. He cannot have the favour of the Three.'

'I do not understand,' Nerim whispered. Shatteringly close to tears he retreated, leaving Shugat stranded on the crimson carpet with only his staff for support. Then he looked up at Lional. 'Mine brother the sultan, may he live forever, will want - I must explain -' He turned again to Shugat. 'Give me your wisdom, holy man! Tell me what to do!'

Still and silent as stone, Shugat leaned upon his staff like one entranced, blindly staring at the floor.

With a light-hearted leap, Lional bounded from the dais to rest a hand on Nerim's sagging shoulder. 'I have an idea. Why don't you ask the
gods
what you should do? I mean, no offence to Shugat, old chap, but everybody knows what happens when you rely on middlemen and start passing messages along. Bits get misheard, or left out or ... reinterpreted ... and before you know it, what started as "Let's all be friends" becomes "Cut off the infidels' heads" and I don't know about
you,
Nerim, but / think that's taking paraphrasing just a
little
too far.'

Frightened, Nerim stared at him. 'But the gods
never
speak to us directly. Only through Shugat, our most revered holy man.'

'Things change, Nerim,' said Lional, shrugging. 'And we can change with them or we can be left in the dust. I'll bet there are simply
dozens
of things you've always wanted to ask the great Vorsluk. Now here's your chance. Ask away'.'

As Nerim dithered, Reg again pressed her beak to Gerald's ear. 'Do something. Stop him before this gets right out of hand!'

HouP.
he wanted to shout. How do you stop a runaway tram? He'd halt time if he could, turn it backwards, undo the damage he'd unwittingly caused, but magic didn't work like that. Or if it did, he didn't know how.

Where's Monk Markham when I need him?

Unmasking Lional was out of the question. Shugat would likely slaughter the king on the spot ... a scandal that would make Stuttley's look like a rained-out garden party.

But he had to do
something.
Put on the brakes ...?

'Ah ... Your Majesty?' he said. 'Are you quite sure we're worthy of speaking directly to the gods? Perhaps we should all spend a night in prayer and fasting first. The last thing we want to do is offend them with - with - uncleanliness.'

The look Lional gave him was lethal. 'I hope you're not suggesting the Blood of the Sultan is unworthy, Professor. Or
unclean.
That might be construed as a grave insult. Prince Nerim might feel compelled to return to Zazoor with a poor report of our meeting. He might even go so far as to beseech the gods to strike us down in retribution!' He turned to Nerim. 'Pay no attention, old chap. My wizard is merely concerned -
needlessly,
I might add - for your safety. Please.Vorsluk's emissary is waiting.'

' Silence, oath-breaker]'

Nerim took one look at Shugat and his upraised staff and shrieked, then flung himself face-down on the carpet, hands clapped to his ears. A split second later the audience chamber shuddered as crack after crack of thunder exploded beneath the frescoed ceiling. Two window panes shattered and one of the chandeliers plummetted to the carpet in an explosion of blue diamond splinters. From the crystal in Shugat's upraised hand writhed a white-hot whiplash of light.

As Tavistock heaved to his feet, roaring, and Lional, shouting, grabbed at his mane, Gerald threw himself behind the throne. Reg tumbled to the floor beside him.

'God,
Reg!
Say
something! Quick, before he kills Lional!'

'Let
him kill Lional!' she yelled.'It'll serve the mad bastard right!'

'No! If Shugat kills Lional there really
will
be a war, even if Rupert has to draft his vampire butterflies! Go
on\
Whatever happens after that
can't
be worse than this!'

'That's what you think!'

Heart pounding, he inched his way out from behind the throne to see what was happening. Shugat advanced towards Lional, the whip of light lashing back and forth, seeking contact. Lional let go of Tavistock and faced the holy man, lips curving in a strange smile. His hands came up, as if to ward off death ...

'Speak, Reg! You have to!
NowV

With a furious curse and a cackling cry she launched herself into the air. '
Vorsluk! Vorsluk! Vorsluk speaks!'

'Look, Shugat!' shouted Nerim and pointed, still prone on the carpet.'The gods are with us!'

Shugat's mouth fell open. The whiplash of light abruptly died, the rolling thunder stopped and the audience chamber ceased its shaking. Turban askew. Nerim staggered to his feet and stared at Reg as though he'd never seen a bird flying in his life. Lional, still smiling, lowered his hands.

At the far end of the chamber the doors flew open and a cohort of palace guards tumbled in, ceremonial pikes flailing.

'Your Majesty!' cried the chief guard. 'Are we under attack?'

'No!' said Lional. 'Get out, you fools, and close the doors!'As the guards retreated in confusion he turned his attention to Reg. 'Oh, mighty Vorsluk, great god of Kallarap,
speak
to us! Reveal your sacred will!'

Still flying, Reg let out another wild cackle. 'Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye! Mighty are the deeds of Vorsluk and also Lalchak and Grimthak! Great is their power and just their retribution! The Three watch over all, understand all, judge all. Patience will be rewarded. Events shall unfold as the Three desire. Attend your duties and be obedient.'

'Aiieeeel'
cried Nerim.'The god speaks!'

Shugat stayed standing, clearly shaken but stubborn to the last. 'That - that - is not how Vorsluk speaks to me.'

As Reg, panting, landed on the back of Lional's throne, Nerim managed a shaky bow.'King Lional, the gods of Kallarap have favoured you mightily. I shall return to mine brother the sultan, may he live forever, and -'

'Silence,
Nerim!' Shugat shouted. 'You are dazzled by trickery, like a child in the bazaar! The gods do not -'

'Iam no child!' Nerim retorted. 'I am the sultan's brother! His Blood, and his emissary in this land. Did you not tell Zazoor the gods
wished
you to come here? This is why! So their will might be revealed!'

The crystal's fire woke briefly as Shugat shuddered. 'Now
you
explain to me the will of our gods?'

'No, no, Holy Shugat!' Nerim gasped, his momentary defiance wilting. 'But do you not teach the Three are omnipotent? All that is come to pass here
must
be their doing ... mustn't it?'

Shugat stilled. Gerald, stranded on the dais, hauled himself back onto his feet and held his breath, not daring to look at Reg. Three feet distant Tavistock shook his maned head and grumbled.

Lional said brighdy, 'Of
course
it must. Dear Shugat, can you think that
I
am not amazed? I never
dreamed
your gods would come to us. They never have before. But here they are and we must obey'

Saying nothing, Shugat pressed the crystal back into his forehead. Nerim, nodding, said, 'Yes, O King. That is our sacred duty.'

'Exactly' said Lional, and perched on the edge of the dais. Still grumbling, Tavistock joined him. The grumbling became a pleased rumble as Lional petted his face. Gerald watched Nerim's awestruck expression and felt sick all over again.

I'll never undo this damage now. Not ever. Wliat a bloody disaster ...

Eagerly Nerim said, 'You say the gods wish us to be friends? Then we are friends!'

Lional frowned. 'Well, I thought we already
were,
Nerim. I've always felt nothing but affection for the Kallarapi nation. How could I not after six happy years getting to know its sultan in the rough and tumble fashion of schoolboys everywhere?'

Nerim blinked, and glanced at Shugat for some kind of guidance. But Shugat was once more a man in a trance, silent and uncommunicative. Eyes dull and hooded, supporting himself upon his staff, he appeared weary to the bone, all the fire in him burned to ash.

'I am sure mine brother the sultan, may he live forever,' said Nerim, with a last worried glance at Shugat, 'will be pleased to hear you say so, O King. And with the gods' help I know we can put our misunderstandings behind us.'

'Of course we can,' said Lional.'Tell me, Nerim, Zazoor hasn't gone and found himself a wife lately, has he?'

'A wife?' Nerim shook his head. 'Alas, O King. The gods have not yet seen fit to choose a woman worthy of such an honour.' He flickered another glance at Shugat and lowered his voice. 'It has been a matter of some concern. Perhaps, O King, since you have the gods' favour, you could speak to them on our behalf?'

Lional smiled, his ringed fingers threading through and through Tavistock's gold-dusted mane. 'What a lucky coincidence, Nerim. As it happens the gods have already made their wishes known to me.'

'They have?' said Nerim, incredulous. 'Truly O King, the gods of Kallarap are great! Who is the woman?'

'Someone you've already met,' said Lional, one arm draped possessively across Tavistock's shoulders. 'Someone very close to my heart.'

Gerald pressed a hand to his roiling guts. Oh
God.
Not
Melissande ...

Reg flapped from the throne to his shoulder.
'Criminy,'
she muttered. 'He can't be
serious,
madam'U go
spare ...'

Nerim looked confused. 'Yes? And this someone is ...?'

'My sister!' said Lional, impatient.'The princess!'

'The princess?' Nerim echoed, and turned again to the holy man. 'Shugat, did you hear? The gods wish for the sultan, may he live forever, to take Princess Melissande as wife!'

Shugat said nothing.

'I knew you'd be pleased,' said Lional, beaming. 'I know
I'm
pleased.'

Nerim swallowed. 'Er - I fear the honour is too great, O King ...'

'Nonsense,' said Lional briskly. 'It's what the gods want, Nerim. And we've already agreed that what the gods want the gods get.' He laughed. 'Nerim, Nerim, don't you realise what this
meansT

'No, O King,' Nerim whispered. 'What does it mean?'

Hell's bells and buckets of blood!
cried Gerald inside his aching head.
That's what it means]

'It means we'll be
brothers,
Nerim!' Lional crowed.'You and I and Zazoor. Oh. And Rupert of course, unfortunately. On second thoughts, let's forget Rupert, shall we? It'll be you and I and Zazoor! One big happy family, with Melissande playing mother. Isn't that just wonderful? Aren't the gods
divine?'

know, Professor, I liked you much better when you were diffident and ingratiating. Recall, if you can, that I am your
king!

'You're not
my
king! I'm Ottoslandian, we don't have kings! And after what just happened I can see why!'

Lional sat up. 'I'm warning you, Professor. You're on very thin ice.'

7'm on thin ice?
I
am?' Choking, he took a stamping half-turn around the dais. 'And what do you call that little stunt
you
just pulled, Your Majesty?
I
call it tap-dancing on a melting ice floe! Have you forgotten that Sultan Zazoor has an
army?
And don't you understand that when he figures out he's been had he's going to introduce us to it? Intimately?'

'I suggest, Professor,' said Lional, coldly, 'that you moderate your tone."

'To hell with my tone!' he retorted. 'You've spent the last hour playing fast and loose with a foreign power's religious icons! You forced Reg into impersonating one of them and manipulated
me
into upholding the lie! I don't have enough fingers and toes to count all the rules I've just broken! And you tell me to
moderate
my
tone?'

Lional sighed. 'I must say, Professor, you disappoint me. What I have done, sir, is solve the punitive Kallarapi tariff crisis, thus rescuing New Ottosland from certain bankruptcy and thousands of my subjects from suffering,
and
I've taken the first steps in consolidating a lasting alliance with our Kallarapi neighbours while incidentally saving

Melissande from the tragedy of spinsterhood. All in all, it's been an excellent afternoon's work. I deserve congratulating, not scolding.'

The man was serious. He really thought what he'd done was
praiseworthy.
Oh, dear
God ...

'And what about Mel- I mean, Her Highness?' he said, suddenly exhausted. 'What if she doesn't want to marry the Sultan of Kallarap?'

Lional looked baffled. 'What she wants is irrelevant. The Melissandes of New Ottosland have always married to further the interests of the kingdom.'

Which may be true ... but he wondered if anyone had thought to remind the current Melissande of that. 'All right. What if the sultan doesn't wish to marry the princess?'

'Oh, I don't think that's very likely,' said Lional, carelessly. 'Not want to marry a young woman in the prime of her child-bearing years, capable of giving him a fistful of sons to carry on his quaint camel-breeding empire?' He shrugged. 'I admit Melissandes not exactly
beautiful.
But you know what they say, Professor. All cats are grey in the dark. Really, you mustn't fret so. You'll give yourself indigestion.' A lazy smile. 'Besides. Zazoor will do whatever his gods tell him to do. In that respect he's as gullible as his gormless little brother.'

If there'd been something handy he would have thrown it at Lional and the consequences be damned. 'But, Your Majesty,
think.
What if Shugat wasn't as convinced by our little charade as he led us to believe? What if he takes a moment on the way home to stop for a chat with his gods and the gods say "Wedding? What wedding?" What do you think is going to happen then?'

'My dear Gerald ...' said Lional tartly. 'Calm yourself. Shugat is nothing but a moth-eaten old man with delusions of grandeur. And as for the gods of Kallarap ... surely you've worked it out by now?'

'Worked
what
out, Your Majesty?'

'The gods of Kallarap don't exist!'

Gerald stared.'You don't know that!'

Lional let out an exasperated groan.'I'll tell you what I know, Professor. I know that when Shugat asked his gods to kill me, they didn't. And when I stood here and invited them to strike me down in my stockings, nothing happened
againV

'Actually, you invited them to strike down Reg and Tavistock.'

'Mere detail,' said Lional. 'What
matters
is there was no striking of any kind. Which leads me to one of two conclusions. Either the gods don't exist or they approve of what I'm doing! Either way, I win.' He smiled.'And Zazoor loses.'

On his shoulder, Reg heaved a sigh and scratched the back of her head. 'You know,' she mused,'I hate to admit it but he's got a point.'

'There.
You see?' said Lional. 'Even your little feathered friend agrees there's nothing to be concerned about.'

Reg sniffed.'Well, I didn't say
that!

Lional sat back. 'I think, Professor, you need a little quiet time to reflect upon this momentous occasion. Given your excellent assistance I shall overlook the tone and content of your recent remarks.
This
time. Don't feel obliged to join me for dinner. I shall look for you in the morning. We'll go hunting."
'Hunting?'

'Yes indeed,' said Lional, nodding. 'I'll see you in my private stables at seven, Professor. Just you, I think. No need to rob Vorsluk's emissary of her beauty sleep.'

'Sarky bastard,' muttered Reg. 'I'll give him beauty sleep ...'

'Hunting,' said Gerald. Oh, lord. He'd thought Melissande had been joking about that. Arid just when he thought things couldn't get any worse ...

'Don't be late,' added Lional. 'I can't abide unpunctuality. It puts me in
such
a bad mood.'

It was a dismissal. Gerald bowed, jerkily, and made his escape before he forgot every last oath he'd ever taken as a wizard and turned King Lional the Forty-third into a toad.

Nerim sat in an overstuffed armchair in the palace guest quarters' salon and shivered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so afraid.

It was hard to say which scared him the most: the fact that for the first time in his life he'd been in the living, speaking presence of the gods ... or that in the half hour since he and Shugat had returned to their suite the holy man had refused to utter a single word. Instead he remained motionless and cross-legged on the floor under the window, eyes closed, hands in his lap.

From birth every Kallarapi knew his people were the gods' chosen. Never once had Nerim doubted it. Some of his earliest memories were of sitting on Zazoor's knee in the private temple of their father the sultan, may he dwell with the gods in perpetual peace, listening to Shugat pronounce the desires of the gods.

Shugat, whom the gods now refused to answer.

When he and Shugat had left Kallarap it had been in the safe and sure knowledge the gods were sending them to give New Ottosland's king one last chance to honour his sacred oath and pay to them the tariffs required by treaty. Shugat had said so. Shugat had said the gods were enraged by King Lional's refusal to follow the path laid down by his honoured ancestor King Lional the First. He'd said this was a sacred mission to restore the honourable bonds of mutual obligation between Kallarap and New Ottosland. He'd said the gods would
reward
them for doing their holy duty.

Shugat had said
twthing
about weddings and new alliances and the gods revealing their presence to the New Ottosland king. Surely he would have mentioned it if the gods had told him about any of that? So ... what was going on?

Had Shugat somehow offended them? Had his refusal to acknowledge their presence in New Ottosland turned them against him? And if that were true what did it mean for the rest of Kallarap? If Shugat had sinned did it mean the punishment must fall upon all Kallarapi? Upon
Zazoor?

Nerim barely stifled his cry of grief and terror. Flinging himself from the armchair to his knees before the ominously silent Shugat, he held out his hands in desperate entreaty. 'O Holy Shugat, I beseech thee ... speak to me! Are we forsaken? Are we abandoned? After a thousand years of protection do the Three now belong to
New Ottosland?

Shugat's eyes snapped open. They were black as night and blazing with the heat of countless suns. Startled, Nerim fell backwards. So ferocious was the fire in Shugat's eyes that he scuttled behind the safety of the armchair and cowered there as the holy man stared and stared at nothing he could see.

At long last the leaping black flames died and Shugat's eyes were his own again. The old man stirred. Flexed his fingers in his lap and nodded his bald head in answer to a question only he could hear. Using his staff to help him, he got to his feet.

'Come, Nerim,' he said.'It is time to go home.'

Because he was too angry to wait for a native palace guide and subsequently made every wrong turn it was possible to make, sometimes more than once, it took Gerald forever to get back to his suite from the king's audience chamber. Slamming open the doors, he stormed inside.

'Dammit!' he shouted, stamping about the sun-dappled foyer. 'Dammit, dammit,
dammitl
That bloody man! That insane, megalomaniacal, off-his-rocker,
bastardY

Reg jumped off his shoulder and perched instead on a handy chair back. 'Careful now, or you'll do yourself a mischief And close those doors before somebody hears you and repeats what you're saying to our little blond friend!'

Whirling, he gestured wildly at the open doors; they slammed shut so hard the hinges nearly buckled.

'What am I going to do, Reg? What the
hell
am I going to do?'

Reg sighed and stretched one wing above her head.'Well, for starters you're going to calm down.'

'Calm down?
How can I calm down? You were there! You saw what happened! If word of this gets out I am
finished]
I am sanctioned into the middle of next
century]
And most likely I'm in
gaol]'

She sighed, and stretched the other wing. 'Stop panicking, Gerald. Word isn't going to get out.'

'You don't know that!' he shouted. 'Good God, with
my
luck five minutes after the Kallarapi delegation unsaddles its last camel there'll be a report on its way to the Department!'

'Oh,
Gerald!
Enough with the hysteria! Shugat could just as easily go home and tell his sultan "Slight change of plans, sunshine. Put on your prettiest turban, you're going to a wedding!" So how's this for an idea? Why don't we wait to see what happens before you start picking out a fetching prison ensemble?'

He groaned, still pacing.
'Wedding.
Oh
lord.
Melissande's going to
kill
me.'

Reg tipped her head to one side consideringly. 'Not necessarily. The wretched girl might be secretly in love with Zazoor. This could be the best news she's had since she heard about sensible shoes.'

He stopped pacing.'You think?'

Reg sniffed. 'Well ... no. But at the rate you're going you'll be throwing yourself into that fountain to drown and I can't see me pulling you out in time. Not with my arthritis. And anyway she won't blame you. How can she? None of this is
your
fault. Lional's not
your
barmy brother.'

'Trust me, that won't make any difference!' he retorted.'I was there and I didn't stop it! Of
course
it's all my fault!'

'Well, you heard what His Raving Majesty said. It's a question of duty. She might not like the idea of marrying Zazoor but she is a Melissande and -'

'Oh Reg, come on!' he said, and started pacing again. 'Can you see her meekly trotting off to live the rest of her life in a
tent?
Leaving Lional here with no-one but
Rupert
to keep him in check?'

Reg deflated. 'Damn. Now you've got a point.' Then she brightened. 'I know,' she said, cackling. 'Maybe we'll get lucky and old Shugat'll stir Zazoor up for an invasion and when the sand settles there won't be any Lional left to explain away or cause any more grief!'

'Regl
That's a
terrible
thing to say!'

She snorted. 'Maybe, but are you going to tell me the idea doesn't give you a happy tingling feeling?'

Possibly it did but that wasn't the issue. 'This isn't about getting him
killed.
I'm a wizard, not an assassin.'

'I know, I know,' she said, placating.

'God!
He pressed the heels of his hands against his aching temples. 'What the
hell
am I going to do?'

'Call that Markham boy.'

Abruptly tired of pacing, Gerald slumped into the nearest chair. 'Why? The last person I can tell any of this to is Monk.'

'Of course you can't! You can't talk about today to anybody outside this foyer!' said Reg. 'But you do need to find out if he's tracked down any of those other wizards yet. They might be your only hope for keeping Lional under control!'

Of course. He'd forgotten all about his predecessors, and asking Monk to track them down. This damned place was getting to him ...

'I got your message,' said Monk from the uncertain depths of his crystal ball. 'And I've started tracking those wizards' whereabouts. Bottomley's one of ours, I should hear something about him soon but -' Then he scowled. 'All right. I know that look. What's gone wrong now?'

Draped across his workshop bench, Gerald swallowed. 'Nothing.'

'Don't you try that "nothing" mouthwash with me, Dunnywood! I can read you like a book and the page I'm looking at has "Trouble" written all over it. What's going on?'

'I
told
you, Monk.
Nothing!
he insisted. Then added, as his friend's expression scrunched warningly, 'Much. Nothing I can go into right now.' He dragged his fingers through his hair. 'Let's just say its not easy being court wizard to His Sovereign Majesty King Lional the Forty-third of New Ottosland and leave it at that, eh?'

'Uh huh,' said Monk, unimpressed.'Fine. Just so long as you haven't gone and transmogrified anything else!'

With an effort, he made his voice cheerful. 'No. No, I haven't done that.'

'Good!'Then Monk's ferocious scowl cleared. 'Look, Gerald, if the job's such a stinker chuck it in. Come home. I'll hide you in the cupboard till everyone's stopped talking about Stuttley's. Honestly, there's bound to be a fresh scandal any day now.'

He sighed. 'I wish I could, Monk. But it's out of the question. Things around here have got a bit ... complicated.'

'Complicated?'
Monk slapped his forehead, aghast. 'I
knew
it! Didn't I say I can read you like a book? Ha! I can read you like bloody
hieroglyphics,
mate!' He groaned. 'Complicated means politics, doesn't it? Go on, doesn't it? God, I
hate
politics.'