The Feline Wizard (48 page)

“We'll have to wait until he finishes with the delegation from Kazakhstan,” Matt murmured to them.

Balkis was quite willing to wait till Doomsday. Anthony scarcely seemed to hear; he stood with head tilted up, gazing with shining eyes at the magnificence around him.

Then Balkis had the uncanny feeling that someone was watching her. She looked up, glancing from side to side, first at the guards before the dais, who stood with spears braced and eyes firmly forward, then up to its top—and saw Prince Tashih standing behind the throne and to the side. He should have been taking mental notes on the formalities he would have to conduct himself one day but was instead looking
down at Balkis with a smile of joy. He caught her look and started to raise his hand.

Balkis shook her head ever so slightly.

Prince Tashih's smile faded; his eyebrows rose.

Balkis nodded toward the bemused Anthony.

Tashih glanced at the young man, gave Balkis a long, speculative look and a grin, then studied Anthony again with curiosity, then with favor.

Balkis sighed with relief. She had been aware of Tashih's resentment, but it seemed to have vanished. She wondered if that had anything to do with Anthony's presence.

Finally the delegation was done. They backed away from the throne, bowing as they went. Guards threw the doors open, and the delegation retreated out of the throne room. The portals closed behind them.

Then Prester John himself was rising from his throne and descending the steps of the dais, the emperor of Central Asia approaching Anthony and Balkis, the Lord of Maracanda holding his arms open wide.

Balkis could contain herself no longer. With a cry of delight and relief, she threw herself into the embrace of the uncle who had been so kind to her, the mother's brother who, with his beaming son, was all the family she had left in the world.

Prester John lowered his crowned head, laid his cheek against Balkis' hair and murmured soothing words as her body heaved and she began to cry.

Anthony stared, uncomprehending, and his hands closed on Mart's arm like talons. “Lord Wizard—what—how— what can this mean?”

“It means that she is his niece.” Prince Tashih inclined his head toward Anthony a few millimeters. “I am Prince Tashih, and I am her cousin.”

Anthony's mouth dropped open. He stared, thunderstruck.

“He saved me!” Balkis cried, deep within the folds of her uncle's robe. “He gave me food when I was lost and weak, he gave me friendship and left his home to bring me safely to you!”

“Then I cannot thank you deeply enough.” This time, Tashih
bowed fully, head and shoulders. “If you have given my cousin safe passage, I can only offer you whatever is mine to give.”

“But—But—it was she who saved me! Who rescued me from a life in which I was despised, who has given me my life again and again!”

“Yes, even as you gave me mine.” Balkis stepped back from Prester John's embrace, wiping away a few last tears. “My uncle, this is Anthony of the southern mountains, without whom I would have died a dozen times before I could come safely home to you.”

“A prince's thanks be upon you.” Prester John stretched forth a beringed hand in blessing. “Ask what you will, and you shall have it.”

Anthony's eyes automatically went to Balkis. She blushed and lowered her gaze—quickly enough so that she did not see Anthony look away again, appalled at his own temerity, or the reddening of his face as he remembered all the kisses he had given—to a princess!

But Prester John noticed. “I see there is more to this tale than the Lord Wizard has told me—though he did bring me word of her safety, and of her escort. Come, let us repair to my private chambers, where I may divest myself of this heavy regalia and sit in comfort to hear your tale.”

“Your private chambers!” Anthony gasped, remembering Hajik saying that only the family and privy ministers had ever gone there.

“You would not expect the emperor of half the East to sit in a public dining room to take tea and hear your tale, would you?” Prince Tashih smiled and reached out in welcome as he turned to follow his father and Balkis. “Come, let us follow them.”

Prester John was tactful enough not to insist that Balkis put on a royal gown. He persuaded Anthony to sit in spite of the fact that he was a mere commoner, “For surely the man who has saved my niece merits the courtesy of reclining at table beside her.”

Tongue-tied and goggle-eyed, Anthony sat and listened to Balkis telling of her kidnapping, her aborting of the shaman's
spell, her rescue by the Wee Folk, and her convalescence in Anthony's barn. His eyes began to focus then, astonished at hearing how the events had appeared through her eyes. She explained the number of times that her spells would have worked too slowly to save her had Anthony not improvised a final line. There he broke in to protest, and to enumerate the times she had saved him by beginning a verse for him to finish.

“You are certainly comrades in arms,” Prester John said, amused, “and both mighty wizards in the bargain.”

“But I have only begun to learn, Majesty,” Anthony protested, “to learn at her hands.”

“You are nonetheless to be numbered among the natural resources of the realm,” Tashih informed him, also amused.

Anthony noted his smile and turned away, blushing angrily. “Am I so humorous a bumpkin, then?”

“If you do not know your own worth?” Tashih asked. “It is amusing that you are the only one here who does not.”

“I am only a peasant and the son of a peasant,” Anthony protested.

“It would seem you are more,” Prester John said quietly. “It would certainly seem that my niece would not have come home to me without your aid.”

“She has the protection of a most powerful wizard,” Anthony objected, not meeting the emperor's eyes, “one who saved us from the dragon riders.”

“Yes, with the help of two full-sized dragons and your own spell that set the small ones free,” Matt countered. He turned to Prester John. “Might I point out, Majesty, that I only caught up with them a few weeks ago, and Balkis had found plenty of opportunities to get herself killed before then.”

Anthony looked up at that, opening his mouth to object, but Prester John said, “Would you argue with the Lord Wizard of Merovence, the most powerful kingdom of the West? Accept our thanks and believe your own credit, young man, for if the Lord Wizard says you saved my niece, be sure that you did.”

“But she—”

“Yes, I know that she saved you as often as you her, and I
can think of no better example of comradeship than that. But my niece is wearied at last—I see that all this excitement makes her eyelids droop. She is in need of rest and refreshment now that she is come home to me.”

He clapped his hands and half a dozen women entered. Seeing Balkis, their mouths dropped open and their eyes widened; they started to rush forward, then caught themselves and knelt instead. “Mistress and princess! You are returned to us!”

“Faithful companions!” Tears came again to Balkis' eyes.

“Go with them,” Prester John directed. “Bathe, take tea, rest awhile, then come to speak with us again.”

Balkis glanced anxiously at Anthony, who resolutely refused to meet her gaze, face still red.

Matt winked at her and made a shooing motion with his hand.

With misgivings and many backward glances, Balkis went off with her ladies in waiting. She cast one last wide-eyed imploring look back at Anthony as she went out the door, but he still refused to meet her eyes.

The emperor clapped again and four servants came in, liveried alike. They bowed.

“Here are men of your own rank and station,” Prester John said to Anthony, “or at least what you deem to be yours, in spite of our telling you that you are indeed what you have proved yourself to be—a wizard worthy to escort a princess. Go now with these men, whose opinions I think you are more willing to trust than mine. They shall bathe you and attire you as befits a gentleman of the court. When you have rested, we shall meet again, that we may discuss the ways in which an emperor may thank a subject who has served him well.”

“I … I thank Your Majesty.” Anthony rose and backed away. The servants bowed and backed out with him.

Then Prester John turned to Matt, his demeanor suddenly grave. “Now, Lord Wizard, we must speak of justice for the villain who tried to steal and slay my niece.”

“And who tried to tear the realm apart by creating a rift between son and father.” Tashih's eyes glittered with anger. “How shall we serve this upstart, Lord Wizard?”

“Instead of justice,” Matt said, “we might do better talking about the security of the realm. From the sources I encountered, it seems this villain—Kala Nag, as she calls herself— has plans to conquer your empire and do away with both of you.”

“Therefore she began with my cousin?” Tashih asked, an edge to his voice.

“She seems to be operating according to some sort of prophecy that Balkis is one of a pair who can stop her conquests—but only if the two are joined.”

“That would be, of course, my niece and her mentor, yourself,” Prester John said grimly.

“If that's the case,” Matt said, “I can always be with you quickly, if you need me—and the threat this Kala Nag poses is scarcely immediate.”

Prester John shook his head. “It is wisest to deal with enemies before they feel ready to attack. Let us call up our army and march southeastward into barbarian lands, that we may besiege this quondam goddess in her lair.”

Matt sighed and set himself to planning.

Dinner that night was the usual ceremonious affair, with Prester John listening closely to a religious debate between a Nestorian prelate and a Greek Orthodox patriarch.

Anthony, seated beside Balkis, said little or nothing, watching wide-eyed and eating token mouthfuls, completely overawed. Balkis tried to draw him into conversation, of course, but he answered her questions with short sentences, not looking at her eyes. In desperation, she asked Prince Tashih if he had
succeeded in translating any more of the poetry of Tu Fu and Li T'ai Po, and the prince responded by reciting several verses. That caught Anthony; he listened in rapt attention, but when the prince had finished, he said only, “They were masters. May I read more of this poetry, Your Highness?”

“I shall delight in having copies made for you,” Tashih assured him.

“I shall thank you deeply,” Anthony said.

“You already have,” Tashih replied.

Then the conversation lagged again. Finally Balkis was struck with inspiration. “I wish we could discover who polluted the fifth oasis, Anthony.”

“Do you?” he asked, startled. “Surely that is of no moment now!”

“A polluted oasis is of great moment to us,” Prince Tashih said, frowning. “We seek to guard the pilgrims who journey to us as best as we may.”

“We do indeed,” said Prester John. “Where was this oasis, young man?”

“In the midst of the Sea of Sand,” Anthony replied. “Our guide Panyat led us from oasis to oasis—he had traveled with a caravan the year before—but when we came to the fifth, we dared not drink the water.”

“Why not?” Matt asked. “What was wrong with it?”

“It was full of snakes.”

Suddenly he had their full atention.

“Snakes?” Matt asked. “What color?”

“They… they were black,” Anthony stammered.

“What matters their color?” Balkis asked.

“The has-been goddess who ordered our kidnapping calls herself'Kala Nag,' ” Matt explained. “It means 'Black Snake.'”

Balkis gasped and exchanged a horrified glance with Anthony.

“We shall have to ask of the pilgrims who came after you if it was still polluted,” Prester John said, scowling, “and if it is, we shall have to send a force to clear it. How did you endure without its water?”

“We came to an oasis Panyat did not know,” Anthony answered.
“It was most strange, for whenever we sipped water, its flavor had changed.” He exchanged a warm glance of reminiscence with Balkis. She returned the smile, her heart leaping— but Anthony suddenly remembered at whom he gazed and looked away, seeming almost frightened. Balkis' heart twisted; she fought back tears.

“I have heard of such a pool.” Prester John tensed. “Though rumor has it that its flavor changes with every hour, not with every sip. Did you bathe in it?”

“Bathe?” Again Anthony glanced at Balkis in surprise, but quickly looked away. “Why—yes. Of course,” he said quickly, “we turned our backs and watched the desert while the other bathed.”

“Of course.” Prester John's eyes burned. “Know, young folk, that you have bathed in the Fountain of Youth.”

Anthony stared at him open-mouthed, then exchanged a brief, shocked glance with Balkis.

Prince Tashih's face lit up. “Majesty, we must go there without delay! You must bathe in it so that you may rule over us forever!”

“It would avail us nothing, my son,” Prester John said with a rueful smile. “We would not find it—no, not though we searched for the rest of our lives. The fountain reveals itself to very few and is rarely seen in the same place twice.” He turned to his niece and her escort. “Did you look back at the fountain after you had left it?”

“We could not,” Anthony said helplessly. “It was gone when we awoke.”