Wizard's Funeral (15 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Here above the southern continent of Gwandoland, the stars were now visible. Soldier thought about this, as he trudged along the single dirt track which led to Uan Muhuggiag. It could mean that OmmullummOs power was localised. That he could only control the northern continent, and perhaps only the bottommost corner of that continent. Or it could be that the wizard had not bothered extending his magic to encompass Gwandoland, since perhaps he did not need to terrorise the nations across the water. To get to him, to remove him, they had to cross the sea and a landscape he controlled, and therefore he did not need to waste his time and energy. The long, yellow-crusted track wound across rugged country. A wind was rising steadily, increasing in strength, swirling the dust. Hot air wafted from the east. Clearly a change in the weather was in progress but Soldier paid little attention. His heart was heavy. All he wanted to do now was find his wife. As to the fate of Zamerkand, that was in the lap of Humbold. His imperial forces might hold the city, or they might not. There would be traitors ready to open the gates to the enemy. On the other hand, it was not a city which could effectively be besieged. It had a covered canal to the sea, through which supplies could be brought. Unless the barbarians secured the other end of the canal, they could wait for ever for Zamerkand to capitulate. Through the eddying sand Soldier could see a copse of trees ahead, throwing moonlit shadows over the dirt road. As he came nearer to the copse a rider entered the black bars of shadow from other side and rippled through them. He had what appeared to be an owl on his shoulder. They were heading directly for Soldier, on the same side of the road, though at a leisurely pace. Soldier gripped his sword hilt, ready to draw if necessary. One did not trust strangers in open country at night. But the rider made no attempt to reach for a weapon. The horse was walking steadily, the riders face to the front. He was swathed from head to toe in hunters garb, the only opening a strip across his eyes, so that he could see where he was going. Soldier stepped to the right to allow the horse passage, since the rider did not seem inclined to deviate from his course. The two passed each other without a word. At the last moment Soldier looked up to view the strangers face in the moonlight. Then rider, steed and owl were past him, the hooves of the mount clumping on the hard-dirt road. Soldier walked on, the encounter etched in his mind, as the wind strength increased. Sand began blasting on his back. He hunched his shoulders and thought about looking for shelter. There was a group of rocks off to the right of the road. He decided it would be wise to shelter there until the storm had passed. By the time he reached the rocks visibility was down to a hundred yards. Then he stopped, suddenly, a realisation hitting him. He whirled and stared back at the road. This action coincided with the stealthy movement of the rider, who was retracing his route. But the scene was indistinct, the shape blurred by darkness and sand. Soldier had difficulty in separating form from backdrop. Obviously the same revelation had struck the rider before it had filtered through Soldiers brain, for the horseman must have turned his mount long before the light had dawned on Soldier. The pair of them were now aware and the rider had returned, no doubt armed, hoping to surprise Soldier from the rear. After this sighting all was lost in the whirlwind blast of a full-blown sandstorm, something Soldier had never experienced before. He found a crevice between two rocks, unfurled his cloak and made a makeshift tent to keep out the dust and grit. All the while he was there he wondered about the rider, swathed in cloth, and who might be under those wrappings of fabric. Twice during the early part of the night his scabbard warned him of a nearby foe, but nothing came of it, and as the darkness moved towards dawn the warnings ceased. Several hours later, after the storm was over, Soldier left the clutch of rocks to look for the rider. There was nothing to be found. All trace, all tracks, had disappeared. Soldier continued his journey and reached Sisadas two days later. Finding the tavern he discovered that not only was Spagg still in residence, but Golgath was there, too. They seemed overjoyed to see him alive, thinking he had gone down with others in the battle. Soldier briefly recounted his escape to the sea and its crossing, then told of the sorrow and grief he found in Carthaga. Finally he brought his narration to an end as Spagg handed him a cup of wine. He quaffed it, gratefully, before turning his dark-ringed eyes on them again. My friends, said Soldier, gripping their hands. What a terrible day. Spagg nodded, looking Soldier up and down. Youve had a time of it, thats certain. Look at you. More dints an dents in yer armour than in my old mums saucepans. Clothes in rags an tatters. Half the continent stuck to yer hair, the rest of it on yer face. You need a good barf in oils, you do. Some nice scented water. I would suggest a young lady to go with it, but I know you and your funny ways savin yourself for you wife, or whatever. Soldier shook his head. Ive had a time of it, thats sure. But when it all comes down to it, I ran. I ran away. A warrior stays with his comrades and falls with his pavilion. Yet I ran. The battle was over, Golgath said, firmly. Do not reproach yourself. No good could come of remaining on the field to be hacked down by those barbarians. There was a retreat. Your leader had fallen, command had broken down, the day was lost. Still, I ran. Well, you need to rest now, said Golgath. Were all heavy of heart. At least the city didnt fall. Kaff is holding it. Its under siege, of course, but the canal remains open. Thats how I got out. My brother called me seven kinds of a coward, but I knew if you lived youd make for here, and I decided I had to be here too. Soldier gripped his fist and looked away, full of emotion, so that the other two could not see his face. Soldier was exhausted, but he wanted to talk. He lay down on a couch in the corner and let Spagg take off such pieces of his armour as were easily removed. I passed a stranger some nights ago, on the road from Carthaga. Golgath said, And? I stared into his face, illuminated by the moonlight, as we passed each other. Further along the road I realised what Id seen. Then a dry storm blew up, and blotted out every visible thing. I think the stranger came to the same revelation, a little before me - he was riding back when the sand obliterated all sight of him. Spagg was staring, open-mouthed. Golgath nodded. And what had you both seen? He was a ghost, said Spagg, an he wanted to eat you. No. Blue eyes. He had blue eyes. I thought you was the only one in this world with blue eyes? said Spagg. You sayin this strangers from the same place as where youve come from? I dont know, replied Soldier, wearily. If he is, I think we are enemies. Its just a feeling, but its strong. Now I must sleep. Im sorry, my friends, but Ive been awake now for . . . He never finished the sentence. Spagg drew a blanket over him and put a finger to his own lips, but Golgath needed no warning to be quiet. The Guthrumite warrior left the room and went below, to drink, to ponder, to consider. Hawk stooped on the raven. Black bird swooped away, going down to the troughs beneath. The wind was raising the tops of the waves and a white sea was running. It was dangerous down there, close to the surface where predatorial fish could leap out and snatch birds from the air. The raven had seen it happen, to gulls and fulmers. They vanished down the throats of sharks or barracuda in a flurry of feathers: one moment flying free, the next taken beneath the water to be eaten. The hawk threw up out of his stoop and went high, keeping above the raven, but now less eager to fall on it. Ha! Worried youll misjudge, with the water so close, scoffed the raven. Didnt your master invest you with special powers, great courage, recklessness? Youre no match for a bright raven. The raven knew that the hawk had been sent to kill him. OmmullummO had commanded the destruction of all ravens in the world, the complete annihilation of a species. Raptors of all kinds - eagles, falcons, hawks - had been given the task. This goshawk had followed the raven out to sea, at its own peril. Ravens, however, were survivors. There would be a slaughter but no massacre. They were wily birds, many of whom would avoid the destruction called for them. In and out of the watery peaks flew the raven, keeping a wary eye on his pursuer above. Both birds were becoming tired. Already they had been mobbed by gulls when crossing the coast. Sea birds do not like land birds extending their territories. Such an unusual act unites them and they put their squabbles aside in order to mount a concerted attack on the invaders. The goshawk and the raven had been chased well out to sea before the gulls eventually gave up and returned to the beach. Spume and spindrift flew into the face and feathers of the raven. Soaked, he was heavier than before, and struggled to keep his course. The hawk had fallen behind, but now caught up again, flying high above but just to the right of the raven. Small islands were now visible ahead. The raven would dearly have loved to have landed on one of them, caught his breath, gathered his strength, before the last push for Gwandoland. However, he overflew these patches of sand and rock, knowing that the hawk would fall on him as he tried to find a perch. Finally, a larger piece of land came into view. It was the continent at last. The hawk came down now and tried to imitate harrier tactics, zipping across the wavetops and swerving into the ravens flight path. But this raptor had not the skill of his cousin the harrier. It needed the power gained from a high stoop, the impetus, to give it the impact needed. The hawks deadly claw needed speed and weight behind it, to deliver the killing blow. So the raptor climbed for one last attempt at a stoop to kill, the waves beneath regardless. The raven watched out of the corner of his eye as the hawk got to halfway up its climb. Its efforts had become strained, its ascent slower and slower, until it seemed to had come to a stop, hanging there in the cobalt blue. Then the raptors wings simply folded. It plummeted down, past the raven, into the sea. Exhausted, the hunting bird struggled in the water, flapping occasionally, the life going out of it. Then the inevitable happened: a mouth full of sharp teeth rose from beneath and ended its pains. A single grey feather was left floating on the surface. So much for you, you lump of claw and beak! The raven gratefully flew over the shoreline, again pursued by gulls for a while, then found a tree in which to roost. Ive got a message from Ixonnoxl, said the raven. He wants you to know that hes in a safe place. He regrets the battle, but says once hes installed as King Magus, the wild tribes of the north will once again be contained. He cant promise no wars, of course, but he does expect to limit the extent of their destruction. Anything more? The raven scratched his head with one of his claws, an athletic feat that had the three humans wide-eyed with admiration. Oh, yes, hes glad you escaped with your life and wishes you well in your quest. Soldier nodded. He trusts you with the knowledge of his whereabouts, does he? Just because Ive betrayed you once, doesnt mean Im going to do it again. No, but we realise youre capable of it. There was some acid in Soldiers tone, as he added, He trusts you with the knowledge, but doesnt trust me. Im the messenger. Ive got to know where to deliver the messages. Listen, you keep bringing up this business of my treachery, well, let me tell you, I risked my life to bring that message to you. OmmullummO sent a hawk after me bloody-minded thing it was too, wanted to rip my guts out - and this is all the thanks I get? Spagg asked, What happened - to the hawk? I saw it off. Dropped like a stone from the sky. Couldnt stand the pace. Its clogging the digestive tract of some shark by now. If anyone ever asks you which is the stronger bird, hawk or crow, you tell em that crows are wizards when it comes to stamina, and hawks are crap. I thought you were a raven, Spagg said, puzzled. lam a. raven, but ravens are of the crow family, explained the raven, eternally patient with ignorant humans. What the hawk lacks in stamina, Im afraid you lack in intellect, my friend. Hey! cried Spagg. The raven was thanked again for his message, fed, and sent on his way. Soldier was still depressed about the battle, but he was coming to terms with the defeat. He felt selfish for worrying about his own concerns when his wife was imprisoned somewhere, perhaps suffering under the cruel hand of a despot. It was time to do something. Golgath had arranged a meeting with the Soldan of Ophiria. Spagg remained at the tavern while Soldier and Golgath were taken by a guide to an oasis out in the desert. It was the first time Soldier had been on a dromedary. You have to roll with the animal, explained Golgath, just as if you were on a boat. Im trying, replied Soldier, not at all happy with his mount, but when he rolls right, I have a tendency to roll left. This floppy lump doesnt help. I keep slipping backwards. Youll get used to it. Soldiers camel turned his head to look at this inept rider he had on his back, then purposely spat a great wadge of cud at the nearest hovel. It struck with great force, splattering on the door. The furious occupant of the dwelling came to the window, looked out, and gave Soldier a gesture which could not be mistaken, whatever the culture. Soldier felt inclined to return the signal in kind, but Golgath warned him against it. Youll end up in a brawl and we have work to do.1 It was a bright day as they approached the shimmering oasis. Then out of the palm trees came a great, golden monster, shining so brilliantly it hurt Soldiers eyes. It had a great long trunk through which it bellowed as it ran, full tilt at the approaching camels. The guide took off immediately, leaving his two charges at the mercy of the attacking elephant. They could do nothing, having little control over their beasts, and simply sat and waited for the inevitable. The inevitable turned out to be better than they expected. The elephant came to a halt in front of them, still bellowing and stamping its feet. They could see now that it was made of brass, covered all over in strange symbols, and its eyes blazed with artificial wrath. On its back was a wonderful brass howdah, truly a work of art, with lattice windows and four splendid flagpoles flying colourful pennants. Like the elephant itself, the howdah was polished to a brilliance which made the watchers squint. Close to, they could see that the metal hide of the elephant