Scorpio Invasion (13 page)

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Authors: Alan Burt Akers

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy

BOOK: Scorpio Invasion
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He made a face.

“I suppose so.”

This, then, was the plan we followed. Nothing untoward happened and we stashed the voller away out of sight and marched in to the River of Drifting Leaves on which stands Makilorn. Here I stood no nonsense from the ferrymen, indicating to them that I’d been ferried across the river before and would pay only the prescribed price. Because Mevancy had been swindled on this point I called her pigeon, as she called me cabbage.

By our tunics we were clearly foreigners,
[7]
for hereabouts just about everyone wore the yellow or ochre colored gown and cloak of the desert. The heat was oppressive, lying like a leaden blanket, and wind or no wind there seemed always to be dust hanging in the air, flat on the tongue. I directed our steps to the Mishuro villa, for San Lunky Mishuro was one of us, in the conspiratorial business, even if, as a Diviner, attempting to stand aloof from our more devious goings on.

The guard was unfamiliar to me; a silver coin and a curt word saw my message passed in via the Deldar. Very quickly the Deldar returned, calling: “Pass Drajak the Sudden through. The san commands!”

So, in we went into the courtyard under the shade trees and here came Lunky, hurrying along to meet us. He did not look just the same. He had grown, filling his new office as a Diviner, fuller in the face, more assured. “Drajak!” he exclaimed, bustling forward. “Where in the name of Lohrhiang the Unfathomable have you been?”

“As to that, Lunky, I wish I knew. Although, to be sure, Tsung Tan will know.” I gave him the Lahal and added: “You must ask San Chandro for the true explanation.”

Now I was most anxious to know if our plotting had succeeded. I’d been snatched up by that fumble-tentacled Scorpion at the moment when we were escaping with Queen Leone, not having killed her. Now, was Kirsty firmly on the throne, the malefactors put down, everything going to plan?

Quickly Lunky sketched in the details of what had occurred whilst I’d been away. Yes, indeed, Kirsty was queen, and listened with great attention to Chandro. The fortunes of the party led by Shang-Li-Po were cast down. There was trouble in the west, out of Tarankar, and thither Kuong, Llodi and Mevancy had gone. I had half-guessed they’d be off to where the trouble lay; still, I was disappointed to have missed them.

“They have gone to Kuong’s trylonate of Taranik. The queen collects an army to follow them. You will join that army, Drajak?”

He sounded wistful. I said: “Mistress Telsi thrives?”

“We are to be married as soon—” he spread the fingers of his left hand “—as soon as convenient. Affairs press hard.”

I said: “You have your work here, Lunky. Fighting is not the way your life has been ordained.” I did not forget the way he’d tried to protect Telsi, the way he’d ridden back for Mevancy and me.

“To the glory of Tsung-Tan.”He brisked up. I made the pappattu between him and Rollo, and he went on to say that it was time for a meal. Being good Kregans, we did not disagree. We went into the villa to a very fine meal, and Telsi was gracious and charming, and I started to itch at what I considered sinful delays. A fellow has to eat, true, by Krun! But, after that, he must get down to work. I looked at Rollo the Runner in some sorrow; still, the dastardly deed must be done. One thing was sure, I didn’t want him stowing away again.

All work and no play may well make Jack a dull fellow; all play and no work assuredly makes Jack insufferable.

“You will go up to see San Chandro at the palace?” Lunky handed across the silver dish of palines as he spoke.

I shook my head. “I’d like to; but there is no time even for that civility. I must get off to Taranik.” I turned to Rollo. “There will be an invasion very soon, an invasion of a different sort from the damned Shanks. You are hereby appointed liaison officer. You will—”

“I am flying with you to Taranik.”

“You will take care of the Guard Corps. You will explain just who Drajak the Sudden is, and why his name is Drajak.”

Mistress Telsi, half-pouting, said brightly: “Why is anyone’s name what it is? Why, then, Drajak, are you Drajak the Sudden?”

I laughed in a casual way, deflecting the question. “Oh, I suppose I’m too quick at times.”

“Thankfully so,” breathed Lunky.

“I still think I ought to come with you—”

I cut him off brutally. “What clothes do they wear over in the west?” I popped a paline. “In Taranik, say, or Tarankar?”

“Very similar to ours. Desert robes — oh, I see!” Lunky gave my tunic a stare. “Yes, that would not do.”

Telsi bustled about and outfitted me and, as Zair is my witness, I thought of Thelda and her busy bustling ways, and sighed, and came back to the present. Rollo was sulking. I knew very well I would have to slip away. Well, I’d had enough practice at that game, avoiding the fanatically loyal attention of my lads in the various jurukker regiments.

Rollo’s fascination with my Guard Corps did not surprise me. Any body of folk of that nature hold and demand interest.

In the course of conversation one thing Rollo said interested me. His opinion, from what little he had already seen of Tsungfaril and Makilorn, was that these people were far less apathetic than those of Walfarg. This did not cheer me up. By Zair! These people needed a sharp pointy stick applied to their rear ends to get them moving in ways outside their own obsessions with going to their paradise of Gilium. There was no secret that Queen Kirsty’s army would be almost entirely mercenaries.

That sharp pointy stick would be applied — mercilessly — by the Shanks.

Lunky offered Rollo the hospitality of the Mishuro villa. “This is somewhat different, my fine feller-me-lad, from our time in Hinjanchung.”

“That is due to the generosity of you and your friends. Still—” he waved an airy hand. “Still, I shall not be staying here.”

I compressed my lips. Well, he would have to be dumped, that’s all.

In the event that was exactly what I did. I ascertained more information about the west, brought myself up to date on what the current situation was — all of which will be related in due time — and that evening slipped quietly out of the Mishuro villa by a well-remembered back way.

Silver paid my passage across the river. I was at the cave and bringing the voller out long before Rollo, even had he realized I’d gone — which a cunning half-lie had prevented — could have followed.

With that leaping spring of a fine flier under me I soared up into the night sky of Kregen, fleeing due west in the streaming golden pink radiance of She of the Blushes.

Chapter twelve

Through the apple green and rose pink of a splendid Kregen morning the voller soared on westwards. A voice at my back said: “So there you are!”

Slowly, I turned from the controls to look back, slowly, for the boiling fury inside me had to be contained. He stood there, not smiling and not frowning but wearing a sorrowful expression designed to cut me to the quick. His lower body shimmered and was not fully realized. His upper body seemed to float lopsidedly about and small curly blue flames lapped it in a waver of fire.

“You beastly, ungrateful, conniving hulu! You — you—” He could not go on. He was panting. His lupal projection showed that clearly enough.

The relief must have showed on my face, for just as I was about to speak he burst out: “By Lingloh! I see you are overjoyed to be rid of me!”

In a voice perhaps harsher than I meant, I said: “You have a job to do. I did not ask you to come adventuring with me. But as you have volunteered yourself for the task then you must buckle down to all of it.”

“Oh, yes! I am to wet-nurse a gang of your jurukkers whilst you go flying off into wonderful adventures—”

He saw the lash of genuine anger in me as I ripped out: “So you really think I want to go flying off like this?” The bitterness in my words made his lupal projection flinch back. “Don’t you think I’d far rather be at home, like any sensible person?”

He recovered himself from that blast of bitter anger. “Perhaps. Not everyone wants to skulk by the hearth—”

“You have a great deal to learn, Rollo. I just pray you stay alive to learn it.”

All the same, there was truth in what he said. The trouble was not so much that I was flying off into some kind of adventure, as that I did not have Delia to share the excitements with me. That I’d never dream of taking her with me now, into the perils I foresaw ahead, was beside the point. Adventure, as I have said, is great on your own, when you can expand the chest and breathe the wonderful air of Kregen — even if down here in Tsungfaril a slick of sandy dust seemed always to film your tongue. And adventure with a few blade comrades is splendidly fine. It is the quality and intent of this so-called adventuring that dictates its values.

Maybe he saw some of that in my face, for he said somewhat surlily: “I intend to stay alive to my full allotment of seasons, thank you.”

His image began to break up. As he’d admitted, his command of his own kharrna was still erratic. His kharrna would, one day, under the tutelage of Deb-Lu, become the powerful force it was in my comrade Wizards of Loh and then, like them, he could project his image in so concrete a form as to fool onlookers that he really was there.

“Remberee—” he called, and I replied as the last vestige of him winked out.

Just for a moment, when he’d first spoken, I’d thought he’d sneaked aboard as he had before. I let out a breath. Even then, even then, it would have been childish of me to have been surprised. Wizards of Loh could perform prodigies of sorcery, by Zair!

Flying on smoothly through the wine-rich Kregen air I passed over territory that looked distinctly uninviting. Now I was flying over true desert. For dwabur after dwabur rolling sand dunes stretched to the horizon in every direction. This was your genuine Sahara desert, right enough.

A touch on the controls sent the flier climbing. Higher up, that flat dusty taste on the tongue vanished, the heat diminished — although not by much, by Krun! — and conditions improved. As far as I could see the rippling dunes of unsullied sand stretched away to the horizons.

From Makilorn due west, after passing Orphasmot, the only centers of settled habitation were the oases. I flew past two in relatively quick succession, Claransmot and Hanjhin, and then the desert showed nothing until I reached Taranik. Here I felt it necessary to descend to enquire after my friends.

The appearance of an airboat in this cut-off place aroused tremendous interest not unmixed with a quantity of religious superstition. Only for a few moments were vague fears that I might be mobbed by a panic-stricken and vindictive mob viable; then the Crebent Kuong had left in charge shouldered through the mob. He was a fine-looking man with a mop of black hair, a robe more bright yellow than ochre, and a large sword hanging at his side. His face showed the lines of care and authority. Quickly I made the pappattu and was able to give this T’sien-Fu news, for they were awaiting momentarily the arrival of the next caravan. He expressed regret that Queen Leone was dead, and in so hideous a manner, and said that he had heard of Kirsty, the new queen. He shook his head in ignorance of the whereabouts of his Lord, Trylon Kuong, knowing only that Kuong had gone to Makilorn. He’d never heard of Mevancy nal Chardaz, or of Llodi the Voice.

Although the absence of Mevancy was annoying, I felt relief that I wouldn’t have to go through the same rigmarole with her as I’d had to suffer with Rollo. Crebent T’sien-Fu pressed me to accept the hospitality he could offer. As for the oasis of Taranik itself, do not imagine one of those little palm fringed water holes of the desert. The place was called an oasis because it was just that, a source of water in the desert; it stretched around a lake for something like twenty five by twenty miles. Taranik with its regular cultivated fields and herds of animals was much more like the great oases on the Silk Road of Central Asia.

In addition, and pleasantly enough, the people tended to wear brighter clothes than the utilitarian ochre desert robes. Their houses of stucco with thick walls and small windows reflected the tented dwellings of these folk when they’d been nomads. This made me think that the desert must have been the result of severe climatic disturbances. No nomads would be very happy wandering about the desert over which I’d just flown. Truly, the marvels of Kregen are never ending.

Many of the girls wore headdresses of silver coins threaded together. I gathered these were their dowries, handed down from mother to daughter. They were called, not altogether accurately, reedkhansixes, and the bright coins enhanced the bright liveliness of the maidens’ faces. There was a distinctly more brisk feeling here than back in the main areas of Tsungfaril.

All the same, I felt it would be criminal of me to stay, even for a short visit. Regretfully, I declined Crebent T’sien-Fu’s kind offer and climbed back into the flier, observing the fantamyrrh as I did so, thinking that this simple everyday act would help to demystify airboats for these people. With the shouts of “Remberee!” ringing in the air, the voller sprang upwards and I shot her into a steep climb towards the west.

As I have remarked before, all of Kregen is not hostile and horrible; there are friendly simple folk to be found all over that marvelous world.

The desert waste to the west became, if it were possible, even worse.

Towards evening, with Luz and Walig declining ahead of me in sheets and streamers of flame, viridian and crimson vying to paint the sky in a welter of colors, I made out on the far horizon a dark streak all across the land. At the same time I realized that to obtain this flung paint-box of color required clouds. There were clouds ahead. And, if I was not too mistaken, that dark line, rapidly broadening as I approached, must be vegetation. As though to confirm on the instant those thoughts, the declining suns touched with streamers of fire the course of a river wending from the north across my path towards the south.

The geographical situation here, then, would be a reasonably usual one. On this eastern bank of the river — whose name I had been told varied along its length and was here called She of the Sundering — the desert would form a sandy fringe; on the western bank the irrigations and cultivations would begin.

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