Songs of the Dancing Gods (29 page)

“Hmmm … Interesting.” He turned to the aide. “Any Tsipry here?”

The Bentar shook its head negatively. “No, my lord.”

“You seem certain of that.”

“My people may be the sickness he recalls as a child. The artu of the Bentar had a bit of a disagreement with them fifteen or twenty years back. I remember it well; I was very young at the time. I would say that there are very few Tsipry anywhere now, sir, and most would be like this one.”

Always nice to have your inquisitors back up your alibis, Joe thought.

Sugasto cleared his throat. “I see. Sorry to bring up old wounds on such a pretty day. Does the colonel’s presence here trigger hostile feelings?”

“No, my lord,” Joe responded smoothly. “It is a sad chapter because it was personal, but I have been in the position of his people in other cases, so I cannot judge. I fought for Valisandra and the Baron alongside his people as well as my own at Sorrow’s Gorge.”

“Indeed? I was there myself, but I don’t recall you.”

“Uh, pardon, sir, but I do not recall you there, either, but it was a very big battle.”

“Uh, yes,” Sugasto admitted. “And I was a horse of a different color there, at that.”

A black stallion, if memory serves, Joe thought, but he said nothing.

“How is your health today?” the sorcerer asked him.

“Better, sir, but I am still being careful today while my full strength returns. Once my body expelled the offending food, I could sleep.”

“Come, walk with me a bit in this nice air,” the sorcerer invited. “I was going to offer a complete cure, but it seems you don’t need such services. The sun and fresh air aid recuperation better than most other things anyway. Stroll with me, and we’ll reminisce a bit as two old comrades at arms meeting once again.”

And that’s exactly what he wanted to do. Joe knew, of course, that this was also a test, but he couldn’t figure out why Sugasto was being, both so friendly and so conventional in his interrogation. But, of course, he was a master sorcerer, and he would assume that anybody from Ruddygore had been as blocked as he’d block his own people from enemy powers.

Since Joe had indeed fought at Sorrow’s Gorge, it was an easy test to pass.

They walked along, the Bentar, then Mia following, and Joe got almost as much of a kick out of the reactions of the folks they encountered as they walked as Sugasto obviously did.

“So, how come you aren’t on our team now?” The sorcerer asked at last “We can always use good men like you.”

“I hope my lord doesn’t take offense,” Joe responded, “but I am a professional mercenary. I chose the Baron back then not out of old loyalties to king and country, but because I like the work and, if you are on the winning side, it pays well. The Baron lost.”

“Only because of that damned dragon and some treachery on the part of the Council.”

“Indeed, it looked to me at the time like a can’t-lose situation. Since then, I have taken only small commissions from stable local authorities, and done, I admit, some less than honest work between jobs. The girl, there, for example, was booty from a little pirating I did downriver.”

“And in spite of all this, you don’t think we’ll win?”

He shrugged. “It appears as impressive as before, and I have heard of your legion of the dead, which would have been quite useful in the old days, and your powers are legendary. But the Baron was the best in his day, yet not a good gambler in the end. His less than dependable political maneuverings, as you mention, were part of his undoing, and he allowed himself to be beaten by a lesser power who was better at psychology.”

Sugasto stopped and looked at the mercenary with some respect. “That’s an excellent analysis. It is a reason why Boquillas works for me now. Did you know that?”

“No, my lord. I thought he was dead.”

“Not dead, no. Different, I’ll allow, but still with that amazing mind. I am not even certain that Boquillas can die. Consider, he has rejected and fought against Heaven, and he has betrayed Hell. When the soul has no refuge, it remains. The only relevant fact is that I have that mind and that knowledge at my disposal because there’s nowhere else to go. As to the rest, we can fight if we have to, and Ruddygore, alone, won’t find me the sort of ivory tower academic the Baron was—I know him far too well. But I prefer imagination first. I can say nothing more at this time, but if my plan works, we can conquer without war and perhaps without even a face-off, since the chilled livers of the Council would back any victory already won. There would be localized fighting, resistance, and pacification, of course, but no great war.”

“This interests me,” Joe told him, “but what if your plan fails?”

“Then tactics change. We lose nothing. That is the beauty of it. Uh—by the way, speaking of Ruddygore, how does it happen that your girl has one of his rings in her nose?”

He’d thought long and hard about that question. “I haven’t the vaguest idea,” he responded. “And I’m afraid you’d have to ask her original owner in Hell. I had no idea whose it was, only that she’s mine now.”

“Ah, that explains it, then. The old fart always was a real hypocrite. Have you ever met him?”

“Once, my lord. He was an impressive sort of man, as I recall.”

“Indeed he can be that. He could have ruled all Husaquahr and probably would have, had he not that trick of escaping into the Other World for his pleasures. It diverted him from greatness into moralizing and preaching, only it is he who determined what is good or bad according to his present moods. To him, this is all just a game, and everyone other than himself is just a game piece, to be toyed with, played with, even sacrificed. He is so ancient now and has played these games so long that he plays now for the game’s sake, without any goals or purposes in mind. I could never accept that sort of thinking. One plays a game to win. Don’t you agree?”

“I do not fight to lose, my lord,” he responded.

Sugasto laughed. “Well said! Ah—I know your stomach may feel its bruises, but will you risk lunch with me?”

“In truth, sir, I feel like a starving man.”

They went to a huge tent pavilion where a galley had been set up. It was full of officers when they arrived, but, to the mutual amusement of Joe and Sugasto, almost all of them miraculously finished eating and got out of there when they entered.

“Now that’s the fun of it.” The sorcerer chuckled. “If your own side isn’t terrified of you, what right have you to expect that your enemies will be?” He paused, then stared straight at Joe. “But you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“There is fear, which is unreasoned, and that I do not have,” Joe lied. “But there is also respect, which is both reasoned and earned, and that I have for you in great abundance.”

The answer really pleased the man in black. “You are delightful! In truth, sir, you are the first nonmagical human being I have been able to talk to like this in years! Ah, let us eat. Take care, sir, that your stomach not rebel, but eat with confidence. Either my armies eat only the best or they eat the cooks!”

“My stomach has survived worse than a bad piece of meat,” Joe responded. “I will not let it cheat me of a decent meal.”

Sugasto laughed. He looked over at Mia. “Girl, come over and sit on the ground beside me here a bit.”

Mia looked nervously at Joe, who nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Yes, Master,” she responded, and went around to Sugasto’s side of the table.

It was unusual for a sorcerer, male or female, to take much interest in sex except as another, sometimes required, tool of the trade. Joe couldn’t figure out whether that was it, or whether it was the personal slave concept itself that turned the man on. It might just have been that, having had Boquillas around in Mahalo’s body for so long, he just wanted a woman around who was always respectful, obeyed orders, and kept her mouth shut. Joe could see by Mia’s eyes that she was far too terrified to have such thoughts herself.

The meal was not merely good, but excellent, and Joe had to wonder if this sort of fare was what the officers usually got. Somehow, the day the general showed up for inspection, you always got filet mignon instead of old army boot.

“So you are on your way to Tsipry,” Sugasto said over wine. “A pilgrimage, of sorts, I take it?”

Joe nodded. “Yes, sir. I have funds at the moment, I have no pressing need of employment, and I always promised myself that I would do it. I have no memories of it that I can call true and I want to see it once.”

“That’s in the Upper Lakes district, if I remember,” the sorcerer replied. “Cold up there, even this time of year. With summer waning, autumn on its way, and the need to divert resources, I’ve been playing with a little spell. Boquillas worked it out for our own people, but it’s rather simple, once you know it. It insulates against weather, sort of in the same way much fairy flesh does it for them, yet, like them, you can’t see it or know it’s there. The only problem is, it seals in what is there as well, so you can’t add much of anything, either, and it plays hob with hair. Not practical for most people, I fear, but slaves like your girl, here, are perfect. We’re going to distribute it and have all the slaves treated this way. It dispenses with the need for those idiotic hafiids even in subzero cold and for sun protection in the tropics, reducing the cost to food alone. With your permission, I’ll do you a favor.”

Joe could hardly refuse in any event. He watched as the sorcerer turned the kneeling Mia toward him, then made a few hand passes and ran his hands over some of her body at a very slight distance.

“There,” Sugasto said. “Now, within the normal extremes of nature, she’s as protected as a nymph. Just keep her like this and all you’ll need do is feed her. In fact, you’ll have to. As our experiments with this on some of our undead show, the spell rejects anything not within its field. Otherwise, there are no side effects. A little gift, in hopes that once you make your pilgrimage, you’ll return and sign on with us.” He snapped his fingers and the Bentar aide, who had not eaten—they were, if Joe remembered right, eaters of carrion and sometimes freshly killed prey—snapped to attention.

“Give me some paper and a stylus,” the sorcerer instructed, and it was quickly gotten. Sugasto scribbled something on the paper, then made a pass over it. The writing, which, although in the ideographic Husaquahrian alphabet, had been rather primitive scrawls actually seemed to wriggle around on the page as if composed of tiny snakes, forming then absolutely perfect characters that looked like woodcuts. He made another pass, and Joe recognized the seal of Hypboreya when it faded in in sort of a gray color. The paper was then handed to Joe.

“Take that with you,” the sorcerer told him. “It is a safe conduct good for sixty days throughout my realm. It should ease problems in travel and make things easier. It will also get you better food, I suspect. After that, I hope we will learn that you have joined us completely. I believe we can offer a very high commission to one like you. You could wind up a military governor someday. I wish I could offer you quick passage to the Lakes, but little goes to and from that area, and we have other needs.”

“I thank you, my lord, for your extreme, unexpected, and unwarranted generosity,” he responded, hardly able to contain himself. This was better than he could have hoped. “I admit, though, to looking longingly at one of the flying horses you have. Why weren’t they in our old battles?”

“The pegasus? They’re tough to tame, hard to ride, and fragile as all hell. There’s less there than meets the eye. They wouldn’t last minutes in a battle. We use them to speed orders and maintain communications links around the empire. They’re not good for much more. Sorry—there’s only two in this entire military district.”

“I was not trying to impose, just commenting.”

“Well, I understand. It’s a long, long way to Tsipry,” he noted. “Now, it has been a genuine pleasure, sir. I have much to attend to and you must excuse me, but I feel certain that we will meet again.”

“As do I, sir,” Joe responded, rising. He gestured to Mia, who got up and scampered after him.

As soon as they were away, a Bentar officer approached and bowed.

Sugasto looked at him. “Well?”

“A considerable number of coins, the usual clothing one would expect of one coming from the south, including loincloths, and the remains of what appeared to be bronze ornamentations, a rather elaborate beltlike contraption that makes noises when moved or put together whose function we cannot fathom, although it appears innocuous, and the usual saddlebag materials. Nothing else, my lord.”

“Hmmm …”the sorcerer said, thinking. “That man is one of the most dangerous nonmagical men I’ve ever met, but he does seem to be precisely what he claims.”

“You had many ways to plumb his very soul and beyond, my lord. If you still have doubts, why didn’t you use them?” the aide asked him.

“Partly because someone that strong has strong magical allies who could shield him, and partly because, to get through those, I would have most likely destroyed someone who might be extremely useful. There was also this very odd sense of fairy about him when I initially probed him that defied explanation. The girl had it, too, last night, which is why I found her so intriguing, but then she didn’t have it today. It’s the damndest thing … But he’s a mercenary all right, and a good one, and she’s definitely a properly bound slave, as both seem to be. Still …”

“If he passed all the conventional tests, why do you still doubt him?” the aide asked.

“Because, while I know I have never laid eyes on that man in my life, I could swear, after talking to him, that I’ve met him before, even spent some time with him. It’s just a feeling; there’s no rational basis for it, but I can’t get it out of my mind. Perhaps it will come to me, sooner or later, or I’ll find some good way to divine it without having to pay a price to a demon.”

“But you gave him safe conduct, my lord!”

“Northbound, yes. Where can he go that isn’t ours? As I suspected, he was illiterate. He never even tried to read the safe conduct, which is a natural act of any literate person. It is valid, but it also states that, if he tries to leave the empire, he is to be arrested using all necessary force.”