The Warrior Returns - Anteros 04 (19 page)

His men shouted good-humored jeers and mock compliments.

The king looked at me, his beard split by a sardonic grin. "You see how honored we are?"

This brought another thunderclap of jeers and laughter. I let it wash over me, keeping a calm smile fixed on my face as if all were normal.

When they were done, I said, "I hope you won't take offense, Your Highness, but until this voyage I'd never heard your exalted name."

The king frowned, his heavy brows dipping over his forehead like two longboats nearly colliding in heavy seas.

"Never heard of King Magon?" he thundered.

"No, Your Highness," I replied. "As you said, I come from far off."

"And I suppose you've never heard of the Ice Bear King?"

I glanced up at the carved bear head on his throne, then shrugged. "Not until recently, Your Highness," I said. "I was told he was a legendary monarch in these regions. Hundreds of years ago."

Rather than getting angry, Magon smiled at my answer.

"You see how it is, boys?" he said to his men. "You see how those rich stuff-robes on the outside he about us? Legend, huh? Hundreds of years gone, huh?"

His warriors shouted drunken insults at the unnamed "stuff-robes."

Magon turned back to me. "King Magon," he said, "and the Ice Bear King are one and the same." He thumped his chest. "You're looking at him."

I dipped my head in a slight bow. "I'm honored to be sure, Your Highness," I said. "Thank you for enlightening me."

"But you're not amazed?" the king asked.

"Amazed, Your Highness?" I said. "Why should I be amazed?"

Magon frowned. "Why, to see a living legend in the flesh!"

I shrugged. The king's frown deepened. Shrugs were the property of the monarch in this court.

"Sorry if I somehow gave offense, Your Highness," I said, not sounding very sorry at all. "If I expressed amazement, it would be a lie whose only purpose would be to curry favor from the throne. After all, I only just learned you existed. Just as you only recently heard of me. So we come to this meeting as equals in ignorance."

The king's humor was restored. He wagged a finger at me. "Not that equal," he said. "I know quite a bit about you, Lady Antero."

"I'm relieved to hear that, Your Highness," I said. "For if you know about me, you know the innocence of my purpose."

King Magon barked laughter. "Innocent?" he bellowed. "You hear that, boys? Did you hear what the witch said?"

His men rumbled appreciatively.

Then the king's mask of humor vanished. "Do you deny that you traveled down here to exploit my kingdom?" he thundered. "That your city—this
...
this Orissa place—is in league with my enemies? And your allies?"

"I have no allies, Your Majesty," I said. "Nor does my brother. We're merchants, not officials of state. And our purpose is to trade, not conspire."

"If trade was your wish," the king said, "then why didn't you come to see me? To ask permission, pay tariffs and duties and whatever."

"How could I, Your Highness?" I said. "I'd never heard of you, remember? And now that you've raised the subject of duties and permissions, why, the whole thing has just become simpler. We can open up talks now. Work out some kind of agreement I can take home to get my brother to approve."

"It's a little late for that, isn't it?" the king said.

"How so, Your Highness?"

"There's blood between us," he said.

"A tragic error on both sides, Your Highness," I said. "I'm sure we can reach some kind of compensation agreement to help the widows and orphans of my men. Along with a suitable apology from you that such a terrible—although unavoidable—accident occurred. After all, we wouldn't want such a thing to sour future relations between us.

"So, if you'll just return my men to me, Your Highness, we'll put all behind us. Work up a little trade pact between you and the Anteros. And we'll be on our way. We'll need credit, of course. So we can buy a ship from you and return home. But mutual credit is the sort of thing usually set up in any trade agreement. And I'm sure that if you've learned anything about the Anteros, it's that their credit and word is sound."

"Just like that"—the king snapped his fingers—"and all is forgiven and forgotten?"

"Why not, Your Highness?" I said. "It's the way of civilized people."

"Are you saying we're
not
civilized?" the king rumbled.

I made my brows arch in surprise.
"Me,
Your Highness? I never said such a thing, sir."

"But you implied," he said, "that if I didn't agree I'd be no better than a savage." He looked at his men. "Isn't that what she said, boys?"

His warriors shouted agreement.

"You see?" he said to me. 'There are no savages here."

"Good," I said, deliberately misinterpreting and twisting the scene. "Now that we've settled that matter, Your Highness, I'd be pleased if you'd reunite me with my companions immediately. So they, too, can rejoice in the news that they are in the gentle hands of such a wise and civilized king."

The king flushed heavily, his features purpling above his ragged white beard. As I looked more closely at him, I thought his face seemed younger man the whiteness of his hair implied. His skin was coarse, roughened by the elements and heavy drink. But his brow was relatively unlined, the scratches at the corners of his eyes faint

Then he said, "We, er, have other matters to discuss first
Then
we'll talk about your men."

I acted surprised. "I'd be a poor commander, Your Highness, if I didn't put my men above all other things." I glanced around at his warriors, sweeping their faces with an amused look. "I can see from the loyalty and devotion of your own men, Your Highness, that you agree with such matters of soldierly honor."

The king sputtered, but then covered his angry confusion by draining another cup of wine.

"And after I see to my men, Your Highness," I said, "I'd like to presume to raise another concern—a concern, I think, that is a danger to both of us."

"Danger?" he said. "How am I
endangered?"

"There's a gang of bandits in your kingdom, Your Highness," I said.

He reacted massively. ''Bandits? What bandits?"

"Why, the ones who attacked my trading posts," I said. "They're a murderous group. Monsters of the worst sort. Our people were killed in their sleep."

The room was hushed. The king glared at me, furious. But for some reason he was intent on keeping up the pretense.

"I've just come here," he said. "I don't know anything about such things. My capital is on the sea and many leagues away. You're lucky I was touring my kingdom. Otherwise I wouldn't have been here to stop my people from killing you. We don't trust strangers much, I'm sorry to say. You were all armed and, frankly, lurking about Seems pretty suspicious when you think about it.

"Damned suspicious. Don't you think, boys?"

His men muttered darkly. Magon turned back to me. A stern kingly frown furrowing his brow. "Why didn't you just come up to us and state your business?" he asked.

I raised a hand, pleading ignorance. "We were lost in the fog, Your Highness," I said. "I don't even know where I am now. What city is this? What is your kingdom called?"

'The city is Koronos," Magon said. "My people mine rare metals here. The kingdom is Lofquistina. Which means Land of the Bears in our ancient tongue."

"Thank you for enlightening me, Your Highness," I said. "When I return home, I'll praise your name and your kingdom to my people.

"Now, here is how I come to be in your realm. My family had established two trading posts near the sea some weeks' march from here. We dealt with only the local people, trading for furs and things.

"If we were in your territory, I apologize. The people there are wild folk and perhaps didn't think to tell me who their king was. But we were new to the area and I'm sure we'd have learned of this oversight soon and come to you with proper gifts and ceremony to beg your largesse."

"You say these two outposts were attacked?" the king asked. He acted shocked. I kept wondering why he continued the lie.

"Yes, Your Highness," I said. "And they were clearly cowardly assaults whose purpose was plainly to rob my people." I spat.

"Murderous pirates," I said. "An honest opponent who resented our presence would merely have demanded we leave. If we'd have been so foolish as to refuse, there'd have been a fight. But it would have been an honest dispute. And there'd have been no shame in the action. Although we'd all mourn those who fell."

"And then what?" the king asked abruptly. "What happened after you visited your trading posts and found them destroyed?"

"I only went to one post, Your Highness," I said. "I'm only guessing the same thing happened to the other. I've seen some evidence of that. But I can't know for sure."

"Go on," the king said.

"We were caught in that great storm that surely bedeviled Your Majesty, as well," I said.

The king nodded. "Yes. I know which storm you mean."

"One of our men," I said, "was taken captive. An Evocator, like myself. He was put on a caravan. When the storm was over we followed the caravan trail. On the way we found the body of our Evocator from the other post. He'd been killed. Tortured first, I might add. Must be the same group of bandits, Your Highness. For who else would torture and kill a helpless man?"

The king glowered but said nothing.

"From there, Your Highness," I said, "we continued following the trail. Hoping to rescue our comrade. We were engaged in that pursuit when we became lost in the fog and stumbled upon your people. And unfortunately alarmed them.

"Perhaps you could help me learn the whereabouts of our friend, Your Highness," I said. "From the signs I saw before we became lost, he's somewhere in this region. His name is Searbe. Lord Searbe."

The king leaned to the side and whispered in the ear of his tall aide. The aide whispered something back. The king nodded while he spoke, looking at me the whole time.

It was then that I discovered where the magical buzz was emanating from. Just beyond the king—at the edge of the curtained platform his table rested on—was a graceful musical instrument sitting upon an ivory stand. It was a wondrous lyre, beautifully curved and with delicate strings that glistened in the torchlight.

The king finally spoke, and I had to drag my eyes away from the lyre.

"It seems we do have your friend," he said. "He's safe. And well."

"I'm relieved to hear that good news, Your Highness," I said. "I can be rejoined with dear Searbe when you bring me the rest of my men.

"Or tell me where they are, Your Majesty. I shall go tend them this instant. You needn't trouble yourself with issuing a lot of tiresome orders."

The king jerked back, the skin around his beard purpling. He stammered. "Oh, uh, you couldn't do that, uh
..."

"I'll bring them back to this hall," I said. "And we can all join in the feasting. What a great moment to celebrate. Our rescue by such a great king. I have a troubadour among my men. A marvelous balladeer, Your Highness. I'm certain he'd be honored to make us a song about this great event."

I turned in the direction of the lyre, widening my eyes as I pretended to notice it for the first time.

"Why, he could even play the new ballad on that lyre, Your Highness," I exclaimed.

As I did so I jabbed my finger to indicate it, shooting a spark of seeking magic from the tip. It struck the lyre and I felt the burn of returned sorcery and snatched it back.

I smiled at the king, bland as could be. "You
do
like lyre music, don't you, Your Highness?"

Before King Magon could answer, the lyre suddenly began to play. The strings trembled as spirit fingers swept over them and glorious music sounded through the king's feast hall.

Then a blinding light blasted from the lyre, filling the room so completely that all color was washed away.

The music swelled louder still, and I looked toward the lyre, shielding my eyes as best I could.

Now the instrument was a great fountain of light, strings thrumming faster, music and light pouring all around and through us.

Then the lyre became a bird with marvelous glowing wings and a widespread tail filled with all the colors of the rainbow. The bird shimmered as the music continued to play, its wings beating in slow, steady time.

Then the music stopped and the feast hall dissolved around me, and I suddenly found myself standing in a room rich with tasteful carpets and pillows and tapestries.

King Magon was stretched out on the deep pillows of a low-backed couch. A large white bearskin hung on a wall behind the couch, framing him.

I looked about. There was no one else in the room. But I felt a presence and glanced at the curtained alcove next to the bearskin. As I looked, the curtains parted and a woman emerged.

She paused, gripping the curtain edges for just a moment, posing briefly so her beauty could be appreciated.