Lady of the Star Wind (50 page)

Khefer exchanged glances with Ebnar. “If the gods will it—” the younger man started to say, his voice uncertain.
 

Ebnar shook his head.“No. Nor can he hold the city against an indefinite siege, which was to be your next question, I’m sure.”

“The other provinces won’t help?” Sandy asked.

Voice flat, Khefer gave his assessment. “Those who are loyal already stand with him today. The others will remain on the sidelines once the Maiskhan land such a massive army.”

“And if Rothan flees to the Mountaintop province, even if we get there ahead of the Maiskhan on board those ships, even if we keep them out of the plateau, we’ll never be able to break out and mount a successful campaign against them again. Not in this lifetime.” Mark fingered his exhausted blaster, aware that he had nothing more to offer.

“What would you have us do?” Khefer exploded after a long moment. “Are you saying we should surrender? Give up, slink home to the mountains, and grow old under perpetual siege? This isn’t like you. Where has your honor gone?”

Not offended, Mark said, “It isn’t a question of honor, my friend. It’s a question of whether we’re reduced to our last chance.”

“What chance?” Ebnar pointed at the ocean. “The Maiskhan sweep the gaming board with their armada. We’ve no more counters to play.”

“We have one,” Sandy answered him. “The other weapon we brought out of Khunarum.”

“Weapon?” Ebnar stared at her, shaking his head in denial. “What can an ancient weapon do against thousands of fresh troops?”

Sandy unhooked the Mirror of the Mother from her belt. She appealed to Mark. “I’ve never been able to get the mirror to work for major things like this, but I have to try. I’ve got to do something, or this whole war is going to be lost. Today, in a few hours, as soon as those men out there hit the beach and get themselves organized, Rothan’s triumph turns to ashes.” She stared at the mirror in her hand and then at him.

Mark took two steps to stand in front of her, touching her lips with a gentle caress. “We have to believe it will work. We have to know deep in our hearts you’ll be successful. See,” he pointed out, “the farthest ships are raising sails to move on. Someone must have gotten away from the city, gotten word to them. The armada’s going down the coast, probably to land and march to counterattack from the flank—that’s what I’d do. Our window of opportunity is slipping away. We’ve got to do something now.”

“What am I asking the mirror for—blaster cannons? My grandmother’s star destroyers? What can I ask for here and now to help us?” She bit her lip and checked the horizon. “The only thing I can think of seems crazy, but it might work. Haatrin told us the mirror remembers everything it’s ever seen, right?”
 

Eyebrows raised, Mark waited for her to clarify what she was getting at.

“The mirror saw the tidal waves drowning the City of Khunarum. A giant, rogue wave right about now would swamp those ships out there and save the day.” She laughed, a little edge of hysteria in the tone. “What if I could conjure a tsunami?”

“You can do it. I know you can. You have to ask, like the goddess told you. ” Mark took her by the hand, leading her a step or two away from the others, closer to the edge of the temple terrace. “This is what we’re here for. This is what you needed the mirror for. It has to be. Nothing else we’ve done so far matters, other than keeping Rothan alive in the first place, maybe.”

The first ships could be seen moving off into the hazy horizon, going south. She took a deep breath and then squared her shoulders. “All right.” As usual, the mirror’s shining surface reflected nothing but mist. “But what to ask?” She rotated the handle, clicking past the young goddess figure and the older woman of wisdom, bringing the warrior to the top.

Raising the mirror in her left hand, reflective surface facing out to the ocean, she extended her right hand to Mark without looking at him. He took it, placing it on his heart and holding it there, his fingers wrapped around hers.

“You can do this. We can do it.”
 

Sandy nodded, grip tightening on his hand as if she was trying to crush his bones.

“I call upon the Mirror of the Mother—remember what was seen on the final day in the Land of Khunarum, call it forth for me—the earth must quake, the wind must blow, the ocean must rise—now!” Sandy’s voice wasn’t loud, but it was steady and determined.

A buzzing, hot, electric shock ran from Sandy to him, through his body to his feet, rooting him to the spot. His heart started pounding in an uneven rhythm. A definite quiver ran through the massive granite blocks of the terrace under his sandals. He heard shouting behind him but didn’t dare divert his attention from what Sandy was attempting. Anyone other than his beloved was on their own now, as far as he was concerned. Stones at the edge of the terrace heaved and collapsed away from the construction site like it was a crumbling cookie as the ground shook with increasing tremors. He wrapped his free arm around Sandy’s waist, bracing her against his body, keeping her upright with difficulty.

“I demand waves. I demand nothing less than the giant, earth-killing waves which swallowed Khunarum.” Sandy spoke louder and faster now. Her hand clenched around the handle of the mirror. “I command you to bring me those same waves, here and now, today!”

“The water’s pulling back!” The sight was so wrong, so abnormal, it made Mark dizzy. The ocean receded, yard by slow yard, leaving behind fish by the thousands to flop on the wet sands. “Lords of Space, you’re doing it!”

He heard voices behind him, cursing, praying, exclaiming, but he remained focused on supporting Sandy with whatever she might ask of him.

Far out to sea, a shape reared itself sluggishly upward, filling the entire horizon. In the blink of an eye, it raced toward them, a monster wave, growing ever taller as it came, foaming at the crest.

Sandy stayed locked in her stance. Winds howled around them. Sea foam blew. Mark couldn’t see the beach any longer, for all the sand and the mist and foam. A belated concern as to whether their group was safe crossed his mind, but it was far too late to take any other action or relocate now. The forces she’d unloosed through the mirror were awe-inspiring. He retreated, one step at a time, drawing her with him. There was no escape as the wave came inexorably onward.

“Link arms, link arms!” Ebnar yelled, getting his meager forces to form a human chain, holding on to the heavy ropes attached to the massive building blocks, and to each other. The Nakhtiaar soldiers grabbed Mark and Sandy and pulled them closer, trying to offer some protection from what was coming.

The Maiskhan ships were swallowed, struggling to climb the face of the impossible wave, or else turning broadside to it and disappearing under the millions of tons of force, broken to splinters and kindling in the blink of an eye. He felt sorry for the enemy soldiers and sailors, but no one would have suffered for more than a second.

The wave filled his entire field of vision, coming at them. Mark knew they were going to drown, swept away. He fought the wind to gather Sandy into his arms, so she wouldn’t see their doom, but she shoved him to the side.

“I command you to stop!” she screamed, her words ripped away in the howling gale. She flipped the mirror over, pressing it to her chest, facedown. “The task I set you is done. Enough! Enough, be still!”

The wave broke against the sides of the half-finished temple but didn’t crest it, to Mark’s utter amazement. The impact of millions of gallons of water sent shudders through the tons of stone, but the mound and terraces had been well built, and only a corner of one lower tier shattered, floating away in the current. Then the water receded, washing the entire area around the base of the pyramid clean to bedrock.

Moments later, the ocean was peaceful, gleaming in the sun, back in its proper place. Small sets of normal waves formed and came in to break against the sloping beach in the distance. Of the Maiskhan armada, there was no sign, not even debris.

Drawing apart, Mark stared at Sandy, wide-eyed, afraid to even touch her.

She laughed, shaking her head. “You asked me to call on the mirror, remember? The gods told us it was a fearsome weapon.”

“Holy Lords of Space, I had no idea what we were unleashing. Are you all right?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Sandy gave him a serene smile. She ran her hand through her disheveled blond hair to restore a semblance of order, and blushed. “I’m better than fine. I’m pregnant.”

“What?” His brain refused to process the message for a moment.

“I ran the test this morning. I thought I was. I
hoped
I was, and the test results confirmed my intuition. We’re having twins.”

He caught her in his arms again and swung her around while the soldiers cheered.
 

Descending from the half-finished pyramid, Mark and Sandy took their time. Captain Khefer and Ebnar shouted orders to the newly freed slaves and soldiers. At the base, the two officers formed the motley crowd into ragged columns and then began marching along the pitted and broken remnants of the muddy road toward the city.

“Nothing will ever grow here again, will it?” Sandy gazed around as she walked. “The salt water will have killed even the roots.”

“Perhaps such an outcome is best,” Captain Khefer answered. “The ocean waters wiped away all the evil the enemy sought to plant here, on the soil of our country.”

“True enough.” She sighed, leaning heavily on Mark’s arm. “I’m so tired.”

“We’ll take it slow, I promise,” Mark said. “And I’m sure Rothan will send us help.”

“Or come himself,” Khefer answered. “Reinforcements arrive!” He pointed at the far-distant city. Mark counted a substantial number of chariots on the way to meet them.

“Do I hear trumpets?” Sandy asked.

“The sweet sound of victory,” Mark answered.

A few moments later, he had confirmation when the chariots swept up to them, under the command of Nemiah.

“What’s news?” Mark yelled.

“The city is taken!”

A great cheer rose from the former slaves and the soldiers.

“When the king moved to attack the walls, the gates were thrown open and soldiers loyal to him came forth.” Nemiah provided more details as the noise of the cheers quieted. “As soon as we were sure we weren’t walking into a Maiskhan trap, our king and his troops marched triumphantly into the city and occupied the palace. We are to take you to him there,” Nemiah said. “My orders are to accomplish the trip with no delay. The king is impatient to have the Lady of the Star Wind and her consort at his side.”

“What happened to Farahna?” Mark asked.

“She wasn’t found, my lord.” Nemiah seemed to take it as a personal failing on his part.

“She escaped?” Mark was somehow not surprised. The one time he’d been a prisoner in front of her, he’d gotten the distinct impression of a clever, consummate survivor. He would have been more amazed if Farahna had allowed herself to be captured.

“Not good,” Sandy said.

“No, not at all,” Khefer agreed. “One piece of bad news mixed with the good. Let us make haste to the palace.”

As many as could crowded into the chariots Nemiah had brought, leaving the rest to continue their march under the command of one of Ebnar’s former officers. The procession entered the wide-open gates of the city to the sound of cheers from crowds on the walls and lining the streets. As the chariots swept along the central avenue toward the palace in the distance, people threw flowers at them, cheered for Rothan, and wept. An unbroken line of soldiers from the allied provinces formed a barrier between the street and the crowds.

“So different today than when we were marched out with Hutenen’s casket, remember?” Mark said to Sandy.

Tossing her head, Sandy laughed. “This is much better.”

Rothan stood on the steps of the palace, waiting for them. He was still garbed in his dusty, stained uniform, but wore the golden Crown of Khunarum on his head. Surrounding him at a respectful distance were General Intef, the other leaders, a gaggle of priests, Sapair, and others. Mark recognized most of them, but a few faces were new to him.

Guards from the allied forces were positioned at each entrance and along the walls.

“I hope Rothan plans to be cautious about accepting allegiance from anyone who worked for Farahna,” Mark said to Sandy. “We’re all going to have to be careful and watch ourselves in this place. Inevitably, there’ll be traitors and turncoats left in the crowd, hoping to stay under the scanners.”

“Yes, but Sapair and Ebnar will know most of them, which helps,” she answered. “Rothan’s never going to be a trusting soul again—he’s made that amply clear.”

“No. Anyone who hasn’t ridden with him to this point will have a hard time being accepted into the inner circles of power.”

“My most loyal courtiers, I welcome you to our palace, now and forever under the sway of the true gods of Nakhtiaar. Victory is ours!” Another cheer went up from the assembled nobles and soldiers as the king greeted Sandy and Mark and their companions.

Rothan led the way to the throne room. Today there were no musicians and no dogs. A crowd of officers, nobles, priests, and others prostrated themselves as the royal party walked by. Rothan showed no hesitation as he ascended the towering throne before giving permission for the assembly to rise.