Lady of the Star Wind (51 page)

The king conducted a ceremony of thanks, including blessings by various high priests but cut the assembly short, to the visible surprise of many in the room.

“General Intef, commander of my armies, has his orders concerning the search of the city for Maiskhan stragglers and other fugitives,” Rothan announced. “Tomorrow we’ll begin the work of installing my court and designating officials. I’ll publicly recognize those in my army who distinguished themselves in the battle, and rich rewards shall be theirs. I’ll take the oath of fealty from nobles, priests, scribes, and judges. Proper sacrifices will be made at the major temples. Tonight, however, I wish to consult with my inner court. All others are dismissed.”

The crowd bowed, buzzing with muted conversation. People filed out of the throne room under the implacable gaze of the soldiers. In this inner sanctum, the guards were all from the Mountaintop or Mikkonite forces. Rothan descended from the throne as the soldiers closed the huge gold-leaf-encrusted doors behind the last stragglers.

“Congratulations.” Mark clasped his friend’s outstretched hand and was drawn into an exuberant hug. Rothan pounded him on the back.

“It wouldn’t have happened without you and your Lady. The city yielded itself to me with no great effort on my part, thankfully. There was no need to fight house to house or burn large swathes of the buildings, as I’d earlier feared might be required. And the wave summoned by the Lady to crush the Maiskhan navy more than fulfilled the prophecies.” He grinned at Sandy. “But the victory isn’t secure while Farahna remains alive. There’s no sign of her, her son, or her closest Maiskhan advisers and guards. Come, Sapair has prepared a more private room so we can strategize. We must talk about what to do next in our hunt for my enemy.”

Rothan led them through a series of corridors and antechambers, arriving eventually at a good-sized dining room where a lavish dinner awaited. There were no servants in the room, and the guards saluted and left as soon as the group entered. The doors closed behind them.

“The food?” Mark paused as he reached for a plate. It smelled delicious, and he was starving, as his rumbling stomach would attest, but he was wary, remembering what had happened to the original Hutenen in this very palace.

“Every morsel of this mouthwatering meal came from our supplies, brought from home. The food was prepared and watched over by General Intef’s servants,” Sapair answered. “I’m well aware of how careful we must be with the king’s safety, my lord. And yours.”

“Sorry, no offense meant.” Selecting a roll, Mark took a bite.

“None taken,” Sapair assured him. “I’m relieved you perceive the potential dangers. Merely because the city declared itself for Rothan doesn’t mean all the traitors have been removed. We must remain vigilant.”

“As long as I live,” Rothan agreed. “And my son too will have to exercise caution when he sits the throne. There’ll always be those who seek to get ahead by doing evil.”

Sitting at the head of the table, the king removed the heavy golden crown, setting it beside him with an audible thunk. He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thing weighs on me as if I wore the very sun. My head aches.”

“I can do something to help,” Sandy offered. She checked with Sapair. “Have my medical supplies been brought from the camp on the other side of the river?”

Ebnar and Sapair had been having quiet words off to the side of the room, but the chief official snapped to attention as he heard Sandy’s question.

“I’ll have them brought to you now.” Sapair issued an order to one of his administrative minions standing by, and the man left at a run.

“Please, you’re my dearest friends and closest advisers. We don’t stand on ceremony in private. There are no eyes to see us abandon protocol tonight.” Rothan waved his hand. “Sit, eat while we figure out how to find Farahna. Sapair, Ebnar, I command you to join us at the table as well.”

As he held Sandy’s chair for her, Mark asked, “Can you use the mirror to show us where Farahna is? Or did you burn out the magic for now by delivering the tidal wave?”

“Good question. I can try asking for information.” Sandy removed the mirror from her belt and stared into it. She left her chair and walked over to show the mirror’s face to Rothan. “I think you need to see this.”

The others moved to cluster around and peer over her shoulder.

“It’s Farahna, all right,” Khefer said.

“But where is she?” Rothan asked, his voice puzzled. “In a tunnel or a cave of some type?”

“And where she is, she’s in a good mood, laughing, not worried about getting captured.” Mark tried to get a closer view over Sandy’s shoulder.

“Indeed, her jovial mood is a bad omen for us.” Rothan drummed the fingers of one hand on the table.
 

“There are no such caves or tunnels in the city or at the harbor,” Khefer stated with confidence. “I’d have found them and used them for my own purposes a long time ago if there were. I explored some strange and remote places while I was spying.”

The images faded into the perpetually churning gray mists of the mirror.

Resuming their seats, the gathering returned to dining.

“This palace was originally built by survivors from Khunarum, right?” Mark took a serving of roast fowl, giving Sandy the most succulent portion and ladling sauce over it.

“Yes. What does the history of this place have to do with finding Farahna?” Rothan asked, pouring wine.

“Remember the palace in the Lost City? Riddled with tunnels. Why wouldn’t the people from Amaraten build the same kind of thing after relocating here?” Mark explained the logic behind his theory. “Sapair, have you ever heard of such tunnels?”

“Nothing more than rumors, my lords. What ancient building is not rumored to harbor a secret passageway or two?”

“We were building them into the cursed Maiskhan temple, I can assure you,” Ebnar added, spearing a piece of fruit and adding it to his plate.

Fists clenched on the table, Rothan was the picture of frustration. “She can’t be allowed to flee. If she’s alive, the Maiskhan will continue to use her as a claimant to my throne. She’ll be their centerpiece for fomenting rebellion.”

“She could be anywhere,” Mark said. “The mirror never gives much hint as to the surroundings.”

“No, even if I ask it again, we’ll get much the same picture,” Sandy agreed. “Sorry.”

“We could search for weeks and not find her, Your Majesty,” Ebnar ventured. “She and her companions will stay on the move if she’s smart.”

“He’s right, there’s no time for searching,” Sandy thought out loud. “But what if I ask the mirror to show me specifically where she
will
be? Maybe tomorrow at sunset?”

“The mirror hasn’t seen the event yet, Sandy,” Mark said. “How can you ask for a future view?”

“There’s a theory about time circling around on itself, like a giant snake.”

“Like our old nemesis Sherabti?” he asked, rubbing his wrist.

“But if the theory is true, then the mirror has seen the future and the past,” she said.

“Do you believe it?”
 

“It’s worth a try.” She gave a small laugh. “I’m beginning to think the mirror’s only limits may be what I think it can and can’t do.”

“After today’s tidal wave, I’m inclined to agree.” He was still in awe of the miracle his beloved had wrought with the mirror’s help. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“Let me try this for you?” Sandy checked with Rothan for his assent.

“Of course. Far be it from a king to refuse the Lady of the Star Wind, who wields such power,” he said with a wide smile. “After what you did today, destroying the Maiskhan armada, Nakhtiaar owes you anything you might request, and I’ll gladly grant it.”

Sandy raised the mirror, the crone facing her from the handle. “I ask to see the future,” she said in a conversational tone, as if talking to the goddess. “I ask to see where the evil one will walk tomorrow evening as the sun sets.”

There was a flash of red light from the mirror. A life-size image projected into the center of the room. Sandy came close to dropping the mirror. “Well, seems I’ve learned a new trick.”

“Does anyone recognize the place?” Mark remembered that brevity was the most inconvenient aspect of visualizations from the mirror.

He watched Farahna walk onto a beach in the ruddy sunset. A fat sun rode the sky inches above the horizon, its much smaller binary a dot close by. Maiskhan soldiers surrounded the deposed queen. A small boat could be seen rowing toward the beach, while a larger ship rolled in the troughs of waves offshore.

“I know where it is! I recognize it,” Khefer yelled.

The vision winked out.

“Sorry.” Khefer apologized as everyone turned to glare at him. “But I do know the cove,” the captain assured his listeners. “I recognize the rock formations. It’s to the west of the harbor.”

“She’ll be there at sunset tomorrow.” Sandy put the mirror in its soft, padded pouch at her belt.

“And we’ll be there to greet her,” Rothan vowed. “We must post guards there now, tonight, in case she should emerge from hiding earlier than the mirror foretells.”

Khefer left his seat and saluted. “I’ll see to it at once, Exalted One. I’ll go myself and take my own charioteers, men whose absolute loyalty we can trust.”

Sallea left her chair to join him. “I’ll send Lakht aloft to search out the place and keep watch with you as well.”

By late afternoon the next day, the king and his inner court, along with a detachment of soldiers from the Mountaintop province, arrived at the beach and hid from view, joining Khefer and Sallea. The mouth of the cave was well camouflaged by brush and a large flat rock, but Mark had no trouble recognizing the location shown to Sandy by the mirror.

He was relieved they didn’t have to wait long before a Maiskhan ship sailed over the horizon and prepared to drop anchor. Djed was first to see the vessel with his keen archer’s eyes. He pointed it out to the rest of them. Mark checked it out through his distance viewer. “Maiskhan, all right. Damn! We have to get them out of the picture. I don’t want anyone else coming to this beach party tonight. And the mirror showed us a small boat coming ashore, remember?”

“What do you propose?” Rothan asked. “As you remind me constantly, I have no navy.”

“Sandy, do you think you could get the mirror to conjure a strong wind?” Mark asked. “Not a gale force, but close to it, to push them out to sea and keep them there?”

She kissed him on the lips. “We’ll soon find out. I did do dust devils while we were staying at Rothan’s home in the mountains. This would be similar.” She picked up the mirror, lined up the younger goddess with the reflective faceplate, and made her request.

“I don’t think it’s working,” Khefer said hesitantly as a moment or two passed and the air remained dead calm.

No sooner had he spoken than the sails of the ship puffed out with such force the vessel came close to heeling over, picking up speed as it rode the waves. The captain tried to maneuver, tacking in various directions, but the wind in the sails pushed him inexorably toward deep water. The wind adjusted to match each new trick the Maiskhan tried, and in a few moments, the vessel had sailed from view.

“Wow, I’m exhausted.” Sandy sat on a handy log with a thump, rubbing her temples and nearly dropping the mirror.
 

“Worse than the tidal wave?” Mark came and massaged her shoulders as she leaned against him with a grateful sigh.

“Kind of, because I had to sustain the request for wind myself. The tidal wave took on a life of its own yesterday. All I did was ask for it. Then I think some force beyond my abilities gave the mirror a power surge.”

“The gods,” Rothan said. “It must have been the true gods, working through the mirror and you.”

“Shh, I think I heard something.” Khefer made a violent hand gesture. He pointed at the rock and brush concealing the mouth of the tunnel. “Movement.”

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for,” Rothan said with immense pleasure. “Now Hutenen will be avenged. We must greet her and her Maiskhan soldiers properly.”

“Hang back here, Sandy, please.” Mark unsheathed his sword.

“No problem. I’m a doctor, not a fighter.” She held him for a heartbeat as he brushed past her with Rothan and the others, taking positions in concealment, just shy of the beach. “Not unless I have to be.”

Calm as he always was in a combat situation, Mark crouched low in the brush with the others. The flat rock shifted sideways. A Maiskhan soldier stuck his head out of the tunnel, peering around, sword and shield at the ready. The man ducked inside for a second and then walked out, followed by six more Maiskhan. An officer strolled onto the sands next, brushing his shoulders as if to remove cobwebs or dust.

“Gaddaf, their commander,” Mark hissed at Rothan.

Brow furrowed, Rothan swore. “I remember him.”

The officer scanned the horizon with narrowed eyes. “It appears the ship is late, Great One,” he announced in a loud voice. “But it is safe for you to come out here to wait.”

Farahna strolled out of the tunnel, carrying one of the fat dogs, another yapping at her heels. She seemed as calm and collected as ever. Her dress was impeccably draped, gleaming white, her jewels lavish. She had her customary makeup on. “Build a fire while we wait. And make me a place to sit. Cook something. I’m hungry.” Her petulant tone carried easily to the watchers.