The Tower of Fear
Authors: Glen Cook
The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you without Digital Rights Management software (DRM) applied so that you can enjoy reading it on your personal devices. This e-book is for your personal use only. You may not print or post this e-book, or make this e-book publicly available in any way. You may not copy, reproduce, or upload this e-book, other than to read it on one of your personal devices.
Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author’s copyright, please notify the publisher at:
us.macmillanusa.com/piracy
.
Contents
The Players in the Many-Faced Game
The Witch entered the temple as the men met. She gasped, unable to believe even now that she saw it. How had the man gotten through the citadel’s defenses? What man could have earned such great power?
Clouds of light and shadow contended. Larger than life, figures turned in an almost formal, elegant dance around the slice and dart of flashing mystic blades.
The shadow was overpowering the light slowly, consuming it, but she did not see that in her fear for the man she loved. She saw only that an enemy was trying to kill him and that enemy was a great enough wizard to have penetrated the citadel’s impenetrable defenses. She screamed, all reason fled before the prospect of loss. “Nakar!”
Startled, the shadow turned her way.
The light struck its blow.
… and so begins a tale of doom and wizardry that brings us all, in the end, to
The Tower of Fear
THE PLAYERS IN THE MANY-FACED GAME
Qushmarrah—The conquered city where events take place
THE QUSHMARRAHANS—
Called
veydeen
by the Dartar tribesmen, the literal meaning of the word being stone-sitters. Applicable to any city dwellers
Aaron Habid—A carpenter and war veteran
Laella—Aaron’s wife
Arif—Aaron’s older son
Stafa—Aaron’s younger son
Raheb Sayed—Aaron’s mother-in-law
Tamisa (“Mish”)—Aaron’s sister-in-law
Taidiki—Aaron’s brother-in-law, now dead
Billygoat—Aaron’s friend and co-worker, who caulks the seams in ships
Naszif bar bel-Abek—a metalworker and war veteran
Reyha—Naszif’s wife, Laella’s best friend
Zouki—Naszif’s son
Nakar the Abomination—a sorcerer, now dead, who ruled Qushmarrah in the name of the god Gorloch
The Witch—Nakar’s wife
Torgo—a eunuch serving the Witch
Azel—a professional killer, talented and deadly. A man of many faces
Muma—innkeeper and associate of Azel
Ishabel bel-Shaduk—professional criminal and child-taker
The General—Leader of the Living, the Qushmarrahan resistance to the Herodian occupation; khadifa (colonel or chieftain) in the quarter called the Shu
General Hanno bel-Karba—the Qushmarrahan national hero
Colonel Sisu bel-Sidek—the General’s adjutant and heir, khadifa of the waterfront
Meryel—woman shipping magnate, supporter of the Living, and bel-Sidek’s lover
Colonel Salom Edgit—khadifa of the Tro quarter, caught between greed and honor
Colonel “King” Dabdahd—khadifa of the Astan quarter, a bootlicker
Colonel Ortbal Sagdet—khadifa of the Hahr quarter, more gangster than patriot
Colonel Carza—khadifa of the Minisia quarter, a fanatic
Colonel Zenobel—khadifa of the Shen quarter, a fanatic
Hadribel—second-in-command in the Shu quarter
THE DARTARS
Desert nomads, mercenaries acting as auxiliaries to Herod’s occupation forces
Yoseh—a young warrior just in from the desert
Nogah—Yoseh’s older brother, leader of his band
Medjhah—Yoseh’s older brother
Mahdah—member of Yoseh’s band, a cousin
Kosuth—member of Yoseh’s band, a cousin
Juba—member of Yoseh’s band, an adoptive cousin
Faruk—member of Yoseh’s band, a cousin
Melchesheydek—Yoseh’s father, something of a rogue
Fa’tad al-Akla—called the Eagle, commander of the Dartar mercenaries
Joab—captain of Yoseh’s company and an old friend of Fa’tad
Mo’atabar—sergeant of Yoseh’s company, related to Joab
THE HERODIANS
Called
ferrenghi
by the Dartar tribesmen, the literal meaning of the word being outsider, stranger, enemy. In contemporary usage specifically someone whose allegiance lies with the imperial city, Herod.
General Lentello Cado—conqueror of Qushmarrah, now military governor and commander of occupying forces
Taliga—General Cado’s brother-in-law and batman
Colonel Bruda—Herodian intelligence chief in Qushmarrah
Marteo Sullo—civil governor of Qushmarrah
Annalaya—a witch brought to Qushmarrah by Sullo
Cullo—Aaron Habid’s supervisor at work
Ala-eh-din Beyh—a wizard, antecedents unknown, whose successful attack upon Nakar the Abomination made possible the Herodian conquest of Qushmarrah
OTHERS
Chorhkni, Suldan of Aquira—permanent threat on the eastern boundary of the Herodian empire
THE GODS
Gorloch—an ancient, ferocious deity long abandoned by most Qushmarrahans
Nakar—an angel in Gorloch’s pantheon, associated with death, from whom the sorcerer Nakar adopted his name
Azel—a messenger demon associated with the angel Nakar
Aram the Flame—a gentle, compassionate deity whose cult supplanted that of Gorloch
God—the Herodian deity, ferocious, jealous, contradictory. Extension of his cult is the excuse for Herodian conquests
Prolog
The smoke was oppressive. It crept south into the Shu from the Shen, where sorcery had birthed fires when the invaders breached the Gate of Winter. It brought chaos. Within it combatants recognized neither friend, foe, nor fleeing civilian. Men struck now and wept later. Animals careened around in panic. The heavy overcast turned back the light of day and worsened seeing.
Qushmarrahan, Dartar, and Herodian alike prayed for rain. Rain might quench the fires and cool the killing insanity.
Qushmarrah was lost but its men fought on. While Nakar lived they dared not surrender.
The surrounding horizons were clear. It seemed the city was circumvallated by walls of light. The clouds grew rapidly darker nearer the heart of the city. Above the acropolis, over the citadel of Nakar the Abomination, those were black as the breath of Hell. The citadel’s tower pierced their low bellies.
Lightning shattered darkness. Thunder crushed the uproar in the streets. A hundred thousand smoke-teared eyes looked toward the sorcerer’s stronghold. Clouds above began to swirl, to stream inward, forming a whirlpool in the sky, a celestial maelstrom.
An end-of-the-world flash and crash rattled the city to its foundations.
The rains came. They fell in torrents like none before witnessed by man.
* * *
The sorcerer sat on his dark throne, amused. He would wait a while longer before he crushed the invaders. They would perish in agony, every one, Herodian and Dartar traitor …
Something moved in the shadows at the far end of that last temple of Gorloch. He sprang up, robes flying, eyes wide. He did not recognize the man but knew what he must be. “You!”
“Yes, High Priest.” There was soft mockery in the voice. The man wore peasant garb. He was too tall to be Herodian, too dark to be Qushmarrahan. The breath of the desert informed his voice but he was no Dartar. “Another has come.”
Nakar relaxed. They came and they came but he devoured them all. “I should have suspected.” He chuckled. “Cado has been unnaturally lucky.”
“Not my doing, wizard. Cado’s genius, your failings, and human frailty.”
The sorcerer sneered. “The fire is come. It will scour away the weakness of Aram. Herod’s triumph will turn in her hands, like an adder. Gorloch will stand forth in his glory again. Come. I grow impatient. I will destroy them after I finish you.” He laughed. “Come, little dog of the desert. Let it be done between me and yours. You are the last.”
“No.” The man’s slow advance did not falter. “There is another training already. Always there will be another somewhere, hidden from your eye, till you are driven from the world and torment it no more.” A dagger flashed in his hand. It radiated power.
Fear touched the sorcerer for an instant. Then the rage came. He
would
sweep them out of the path of destiny. “Gorloch, attend me!” He hurled himself toward his challenger. They met before the great idol, beside the altar where thousands had screamed their last that Gorloch might be pleased and his apostle Nakar might live forever.
* * *
The Witch entered the temple as the men met. She gasped, unable to believe even now that she saw it. How had the man gotten through the citadel’s defenses? What man could have earned such great power?
Clouds of light and shadow contended. Larger than life, figures turned in an almost formal, elegant dance around the slice and dart of flashing mystic blades.
The shadow was overpowering the light slowly, consuming it, but she did not see that in her fear for the man she loved. She saw only that an enemy was trying to kill him and that enemy was a great enough wizard to have penetrated the citadel’s impenetrable defenses. She screamed, all reason fled before the prospect of loss. “Nakar!”
Startled, the shadow turned her way.
The light struck its blow.
Nakar’s bellow shook the fortress. He lurched into his enemy, clawing at his attacker’s throat. Their struggle flung them against the altar.
The Witch wailed. She had killed him with her interruption. While they yet fought, before death claimed its prize, she wove her greatest spell ever, binding them in timelessness. Someday she would bring back the man she loved, when she found the way.
She finished. In pain, as she collapsed, she cried, “AZEL!” The summons rolled through the citadel but there was no answer. Nakar had sent his right hand far away, to work his will in another land. There would be no help.
It was too late. For now.
* * *
The avalanche of rain faded as fast as it had come. The clouds blew away from Qushmarrah like the souls of men newly dead. Throughout the city men began to lay down their arms. Nakar was gone.
* * *
In the Shu the stillness yielded to the cry of a newborn. And a moment later its cries were joined by those of another entrant into the lists of life.
The war ended. The wheel turned. A new story began.
1
The boys came up Char Street in a mouthy pack. The hazy turquoise of the bay backed them. There were twenty of them, ranging from three to eight years old. The pretend they were playing reflected their parents’ private rejection of history. They were soldiers returning victorious from Dakes-Souetta.
Their rowdiness caught the old woman’s ear. She looked up from her mending. A scowl deepened the wrinkles webbing her dark leather face. She thought their parents ought to whip some sense into them.
One of the boys kicked something the size of a melon. Another raced forward, snatched it up out of the dust, shook it overhead, and shouted.
