The Feline Wizard (50 page)

One of those infantrymen had blond hair, a uniform a little too small for him, and a marked southern accent. He stood out like a sore thumb among the black-haired, golden-skinned Maracandese, but he wasn't the only outlander; there were hundreds of soldiers from Prester John's tributary states.

“What manner of stones are those in the golden crosses?” he asked the soldier next to him. “They look quite ordinary tome.”

The man looked up at him in surprise, then laughed outright. “You are an outlander, and newly come! Know, then, that each of the first ten crosses holds embedded in its gold a marvelous gem that can work magic of the sort soldiers love.”

“Martial magic?” Anthony frowned—for of course it was he, determined to defend Maracanda, and the woman he loved but knew he could not have; if he died protecting her, so much the better, for without her there was no reason to live.

“The first stone can freeze the very air, and certainly enemy soldiers,” the trooper told him. “The second can heat their weapons till they are too hot to hold—or broil the soldiers themselves in an instant. If the enemy uses ice or fire as a weapon, the third stone can reduce either to an even temperature. The fourth can flood with light everything within a span of five miles; the fifth can cast darkness as far.”

“Amazing virtues,” Anthony said, eyes wide. “What can the others do?”

“The sixth and seventh are unconsecrated; the one turns water to milk and the seventh to wine, which is greatly to be valued by any soldier. The eighth, ninth, and tenth are consecrated; the eighth will cause fish to congregate, and the ninth will compel wild beasts to follow one. The tenth, when it is sprinkled with hot lion's blood, will produce a fire that can be quenched only by sprinkling it with hot dragon's blood.” He grinned. “That standard is ours.”

Anthony peered up at the huge cross, frowning. “But I see no stone there, only a gaping hole.”

“What!” The soldier stared, horrified. “It is so! How can this be? Who can have stolen it? Why has no one seen this before?”

Good questions, Anthony thought, especially the last. More to the point, how was it he had seen it gone when no one else had? He could only think that his bath in the Fountain of Youth had given him the ability to see through glamours—either that, or Balkis' magic was rubbing off on him. He shied away from that notion; thoughts of Balkis hurt, and deeply.

“Captain!” the soldier cried. “The stone! The stone that starts and quenches fire is gone!”

The alarm went up and Matt was there to investigate within minutes. They lowered the cross. He glared at the hole a minute, then said, “Yep. It's gone, all right.”

“But who could have stolen it?”

“One of those crawlie enemies we were worried about.” Matt looked around the ranks reflectively. Anthony ducked behind another soldier and pressed his helmet down farther over his telltale hair.

Matt turned to the captain again. “While their ambassador distracted us, a fellow snake got into the treasury somehow.”

“Ridiculous!” the captain snorted. “What manner of thief would penetrate a royal treasury and steal only this one stone?”

“A snake with a mission ” Matt told him.

In fact, they later found out he'd guessed correctly—the snake had tunneled into the treasury, stolen the stone, and filled the tunnel in on the way out. The palace engineers were able to plug the hole more permanently—before any human thieves could develop ideas. Prester John also made the treasury
serve double duty as his mongoose breeding pen from that time on.

A cry went up. Turning to look, they saw a wedge of snake-people striding toward them across the plain, wearing only their scales. Without their robes, they seemed somehow obscene, their fronts too sickly a green, their backs too mottled, their limbs far too slender for the strength they held. Behind them marched an assortment of creatures of such ugliness and menace that half the soldiers cried out and hid their eyes. Only when their sergeants assured them that the mere sight of the monsters did not turn them to stone or burn out their sight did the quaking troopers dare look again.

With a flinten face, Prester John rode out to meet the embassy with a hundred horsemen around him.

The snake-folk came to a halt. The one at the point of the wedge grinned, tongue flicking out in insult, and said, “We meet again, O Prince of Fools.”

“So it is you, the emissary,” Prester John said. “Speak what you have come to say before I unleash my troops upon you.”

“Only this, O King of Folly! We have your flame stone and a pride of lions caged by it. If you do not surrender at once, we shall hurl it afire into the center of your city and let it burn everything within your walls to cinders!”

Prester John paled, for he knew the power of the stone and knew it could prove as devastating as the snakeman claimed. Still he met threat with threat. “Know that we have powerful magicians to avenge such an action—and we know the name of your tyrant!”

“Only her public name. Her true name remains hidden,” said the snakeman. “You may know it by this evidence—that ‘Kala Nag’ is a Hindu name, O Ignorant One, and the goddess is of the high steppe. Further, ‘Nag’ is masculine, and the goddess is very, very feminine. No, you cannot hurt her, even if your magicks were strong enough.”

“A craven act indeed!” Prester John said indignantly.

The snakeman's eyes flashed with anger. “A prudent act, and you lacked such prudence yourself. We know how slow you human folk are to decide such weighty matters, so we
shall give you until sunset—but when darkness falls, if you have not surrendered, your city shall light the night!”

He wheeled and stalked away. The wedge opened to let him through, then reformed behind him and arrowed through a lane that opened in the midst of the monsters. The wedge drove through, and the monsters turned to follow. The whole assemblage moved away across the plain.

Prester John turned and called, “Let all wizards appear before me!”

Balkis called for a horse and rode down to him at the gallop. Soldiers looked up, saw the white robe with the purple cloak and the golden coronet on her brows, and stepped aside, bowing as she passed.

By the time she came, half a dozen lesser wizards had assembled around Matt and Prester John. She looked around, forlorn. “Where is Anthony?”

“Yes, where is Anthony?” Matt repeated in a voice that could be heard a hundred feet away. “We need him sorely now, for your spells are far stronger with him to complete them, and if this situation doesn't call for new verses, I don't know what does!”

“He is not here,” Balkis said dolefully

“Yes, he is not here!” Matt trumpeted. “I can't blame him, actually—he isn't a subject of this land, after all. Why should he care if Maracanda burns and all of Asia and Europe are conquered by a monster, because Prester John's army is all that stands between Kala Nag and world conquest?”

The silence stretched out, broken only by Balkis' sobbing gasps as she struggled to suppress tears. Matt wondered if he had laid the guilt trip on too heavily.

A curse came from the ranks, and a soldier taller than most yanked off his helmet and shoved it and his spear into the hands of the startled trooper next to him. Then he came striding up to Matt. He bowed to Prester John and said, “Command me, Majesty! I would have preferred to fight for you like the commoner I am, but if you deem that I may defend better as a wizard, I am come!”

“Oh, Anthony!” Balkis breathed in melting tones, but he
hardened his face and kept his gaze on the emperor. Hers showed great sorrow; then she composed it and squared her shoulders, every inch a princess.

“Our course is clear,” Prester John said. “We must have the firestone back before the sun sets. Who shall go to bring it?”

“I, my lord!” Prince Tashih nudged his horse forward. “I shall take our doughtiest warriors and mount a sally into the midst of their fell army! Only send me one wizard to deflect their magic!”

“I!” Anthony said instantly. “Let me accompany the prince!”

Balkis cried out in fear, and Prester John's brooding gaze rested on Anthony. “They who go to retrieve this stone shall be courting death.”

“I care nothing for my own life,” Anthony said stubbornly, and Balkis restrained another sobbing gasp.

Prester John only continued his weighing gaze, though, and Matt thought he understood the emperor's reasoning. Anthony was suicidal, it was true, for he was so much in love with Balkis that he didn't want to live if he couldn't be with her. He was sure that she was far above him—but he also had the frantic hope that he could prove himself worthy of the hand of a princess. Like so many young men, Anthony was after glory and was willing to die trying to gain it.

“Very well, then,” Prester John said, “you shall accompany the prince.”

“No!” Balkis cried, as though it were torn from her. “He wishes only to die, for he feels I have betrayed him!”

“I shall do all that I may to keep the prince safe,” Anthony said stubbornly, still refusing to look at her.

“Think you this battle can be won by armed men?” Balkis cried in exasperation. “Deflect their magic! They are permeated with it, every one of them! What else could give a snake the size and form of a human? What else could support those monsters in life? If you charge into their mass, you shall all die, no matter how many wizards charge with you—and we shall still lack the stone, be even weaker with no wizards left, have to surrender all our force to that obscene goddess or watch Maracanda burn!”

Anthony's face was stone, but Matt said quietly, “She has a point.”

“She has indeed.” Prester John's gaze rested on his son with pride and elation. “My greatest glory is you, my son, for you are willing to risk certain death to save your people.”

“But their deaths will not save the people!” Balkis said angrily. “They will only slay
me!
”

“If my elite guard cannot bring back that stone,” Prince Tashih said stubbornly, “none can.”

“I!” Balkis cried.

“No!” Anthony wailed. “You will sacrifice yourself!”

She turned to him, suddenly intent. “Do you care so much for a mere cat?”

“Mere!” Anthony cried. “You are the only real friend I have ever had! If I fought my brothers for you, would you not think I'd care?”

“If you care for the cat,” she said, “do you care more for the woman?”

He stared at her, at a loss.

“Do unicorns and mussel shells mean nothing?” Balkis asked, her voice low.

Anthony seemed to deflate even as his face came alive. Then he seemed to swell again as he smiled, stepping closer, giving the impression of touching her even though he was afoot with his arms at his sides and she was mounted. “The cat can be only a friend,” he breathed. “The woman, I would hope, could be much more.” Then his eyes widened and he stepped back, horrified. “But I forget myself, forget my place. Princess, I am your humble servant! My life is yours! Command me as you will!” He dropped to one knee.

Balkis cried out in distress and leaped off her horse to kneel facing him, hands on his shoulders. “No! Not like this! I do not want you for a servant!”

Anthony looked up, eyes wide with hurt.

Matt stepped in quickly. “What's the matter, princess? I thought you did want his life with yours.”

Balkis turned to him wide-eyed, then turned back to xnthony, grinning wickedly. “Very well, foolish man! You have offered
me your life and I shall have it! But first, come and seize that stone with me!”

There before their eyes she dwindled and shrank, arms lengthening, hands and feet turning into paws, nose and mouth thrusting forward into a muzzle, ears moving to the top of her head and gaining points, tail sprouting and growing. There she stood, a cat like any, but with a purple back and tail, a circle of gold around her head, and a white belly.

In spite of his stubbornness, Anthony smiled fondly and reached down. “I shall never be alone again, shall I?”

“Never, silly man!” the cat meowed. “Now finish a verse forme!”

“But not with lion's mane!” Anthony cried.

Matt winced.

It worked anyway. Even Prester John gasped with amazement as the Balkis-cat grew, swelling, until her head was on a level with Matt's and she was as large as a horse. The real horses screamed in terror and tried to bolt; their riders barely managed to hold them still. A few soldiers, more courageous than the rest, ran forward to hold their bridles.

“Come, man, and ride!” Balkis challenged as she crouched before Anthony.

Grinning, he said, “You forgot the saddle,” but leaped up on her back anyway, crying, “A sword!”

Three officers leaped to offer theirs. Anthony took the first as Balkis stood up, very carefully, and in a basso meow chanted,

Anthony cried:

They shimmered and disappeared.

“Lord Wizard, after them!” Prester John cried in panic. “Do not let my niece face such deadly danger alone!”