An Ill Fate Marshalling

16

Year 1016 AFE; A Plea from the East

Ragnarson dismounted outside Mist's home in Lieneke Lane, greeted the guard seated on the steps. The man's head popped up off his chest. He snapped to attention. „Good morning, Sire."

„Are you keeping the vandals and thieves out?"

The soldier's face reddened. „It won't happen again, Sire."

„1 know."

„The wizard arrived a half hour ago, Sire."

„Uhm. Upstairs?"

„I suppose. Want me to take your horse, Sire?"

„Just loosen his cinch. Take him over to the park." Ragnarson entered the house. „Varthlokkur?"

„In the cellar. Be right up." Seconds later he came from the kitchen. „I found two portals besides the obvious one on the third floor."

„Leave the one up top. She'll want to visit her kids."

„I did. I shut the others down. Radeachar is out looking for more."

„What about Maisak?"

„Took care of it last night. Found four."

„Think she was planning something?"

The wizard shrugged. „I'd guess they were for communi­ cation while she was getting her plot together. Not that she wouldn't use them later if they were still there."

„How's the baby?"

„Perfect. Nepanthe is up and around, too. We decided to call her Smyrena."

„That's an unusual name."

„It was my mother's. Nepanthe's idea."

„What about Ethrian? Anything?" Ragnarson stopped, startled by the wizard's sudden dark, dangerous look.

„I said let sleeping dogs lie. I've finally gotten Nepanthe off the subject."

Ragnarson decided to forget it. „I've got one problem you could help with. Mist's kids. Kristen has work enough with mine."

„Nepanthe mentioned them this morning. They're her brother's children. We'll take them as soon as she can handle them." He didn't sound enthusiastic.

„All right. What are your plans now?"

„There's Norath. And the treachery here. How I long for the peace of Fangdred."

„So go. Leave it to Michael. Once we cleanse the palace, Norath becomes moot. His interest should have ended when he delivered his assassins."

„I can give Michael a few hints. What about Hammad al Nakir?"

„Michael and I can handle that. My big worry is still Shinsan."

„Uhm. I'm done. Nothing to do but wait for Radeachar."

„Had breakfast? Come on over to Kristen's."

„Thanks. No. I'll get back to Nepanthe."

„See you later, then."

Varthlokkur nodded curtly, a gesture of dismissal. Irked, Ragnarson stamped outside. The guard exploded off the steps, raced to retrieve his king's horse. Bragi growled and grumbled and cursed till he was in the saddle.

Kristen waved from her porch. He turned in. „How're you this morning?"

„So-so. Weren't you going to stop?"

„Hadn't made up my mind."

„Somebody here you might want to see." She gave him a saucy smile.

„She's still here?"

„Sure."

„Isn't that a little... ?"

„I'm going to complain? She helps with the kids, helps with the house, and lends me a crying shoulder. I need one lately."

„I've got Derel and the Baron working on the succession thing, but don't get your hopes up. It doesn't look good. Think you could give the old man breakfast?"

„In bed?"

„I'm not in the mood."

„Figured you for a good mood. Look out there. Is that a morning for grouchy?"

Bragi admitted that it was a beautiful day. A change. It had rained most of yesterday.

„Sausage and eggs do you?"

„With fresh bread, butter, and honey on the side? You've got a deal."

„I'll start cooking."

„Cooking? What do I pay servants for?"

„I like to. I want to. This may not last. I have to keep in practice."

„Humph. I'd think you'd enjoy it while you can."

„Come on. You can break the eggs."

Sherilee found them in the kitchen. „I've got them playing out back, Kris. Bunch of savages." She looked at Bragi with a twinkling question in her eye.

„Morning," he said.

„He's doing his cranky bear imitation this morning," Kristen explained.

„I know a cure for that."

„What's happening to young people today?" Bragi de­ manded. „Women weren't this bold when I was your age."

„They probably were," Kristen said. „You probably were shy."

„Come on... ."

„Want to see the kids?" Sherilee asked. „I'll call them."

„Later. We have things to talk about."

„Give me those eggs," Kristen snapped. „Playtime after you eat."

Ragnarson returned to the palace feeling sated and self-satisfied. What a morning! What a man. Who'd believe he had that much left?

Gales had the duty. „Ho! Majesty. Your man Trebilcock is looking for you. Yeah. Trebilcock."

„Where is he?"

„His offices. Yeah. His offices."

Ragnarson scowled at the Itaskian. His response was gratifyingly nervous. He had been the messenger between palace and Thing while the Estates were pushing their succession law. Josiah Gales was one semi-plausible excuse short of the mercies of Trebilcockquestioners. He knew he was gone if he strayed far from the Queen's protection.

Ragnarson encountered Dahl Haas a minute later. Haas relayed the same message. „Dahl, what do you think of Sergeant Gales?"

„Crude, Sire. But a first-class field soldier."

„Not what I was wondering. More like how deep do you think his treachery runs?"

„Sire?"

„Never mind. Have the kitchen send up lunch. And a quart of apple juice. I'm dying of thirst."

„Yes, Sire. Will you need me there?"

„Not today." Bragi strode down the hall. After a half-dozen paces he halted, looked back. Something wrong with Dahl... . because he wasn't allowed into the inner coun­ cils? That seemed to upset him. Why? He was not that senior. Maybe it was time he gave Dahl something more. He was a man now, not just the child of an old follower. And King's adjutant was supposed to lead to better things.

„Mention it to Michael," he muttered. „We could send him to back-check Inger's people."

Michael was conferring with aides when Bragi arrived. He dismissed them immediately. „You look like hell," Ragnarson said. „What have you been up to?"

„Two days drunk. Aral talked me into visiting some of our old haunts the other night. I'm not as young as I used to be."

„None of us are."

„Did you know he's a big wheel in the underworld?"

„Smuggling. The difference between trader and smuggler is a matter of viewpoint."

„Not just smuggling. The whole spectrum. People on Arsen Street call him sir. People who wouldn't do that for us."

„Interesting."

„Certainly worth remembering."

„Don't let friendship put you in a compromising posi­ tion."

„No problem. Aral's more concerned about that than we are. He's really got his life divided into compartments."

„People say you want to see me."

„Yeah. Got an interesting report out of Sebil el Selib."

„So? Go ahead."

„El Murid has abdicated. Yasmid has taken over. The Throyes thing did him in. Yasmid came in with a roar. Big purge. Military reorganization. Stepped-up attacks against the Royalists. She reformed the Invincibles, disbanded the Harish, and started a cult of her own called Al Dawa. Means The Call. As in call to arms, Derel says. He says she's ignited a fundamentalist resurgence."

„That sounds like Derel. I thought they'd had that pounded out of them."

„A new generation. You can sell the same old snake oil forever if you change the label once in a while. My contact says Al Dawa will eventually replace the Invincibles."

„What'll it mean to us?"

„You've got a bond with Yasmid. Stronger than that with Megelin, now Norath is in Al Rhemish. Derel and I think it should be nurtured."

Ragnarson thought a moment. „All right. Send her every­ thing we know about Norath, Megelin, and Throyes. Any luck getting somebody back into Throyes?"

„Aral will cover it. Some of my sources survived the riots, but I want to husband them. They could get more impor­ tant."

„Sleepers?"

„Yeah. I don't want to waste them. Hammad al Nakir is our main interest now anyway. Right? Shinsan should be no trouble till they settle accounts with Matayanga."

„You're doing better, Michael. I'm more comfortable with you this way. Try to relay that package through Habibullah. He's a friend of Ravelin, more or less."

„Sure. Sire?"

„What?"

„Never mind."

„What is it?"

„Nothing. Forget it."

The match with the Panthers had been on Ragnarson's mind since he'd conned the judges into a postponement. „What're they saying about the Guards-Panthers match?"

Trebilcock was baffled by the switch. „People are mad about the delay."

„How about the betting?"

„What betting? Nobody will go Guards. Not unless you give them three goals."

„How about to win?"

Michael looked more baffled. „Name your odds. You could get ten to one anywhere."

„How come?"

„The word is, Charygin Hall took steps. I hear they've paid off some of your players."

Bragi grinned. „Aral into gambling?"

„It looked like it."

„Here's what I want. I'll have Derel release a hundred thousand from the treasury. Sneak it to Aral. Have him pass it to his people and get all the bets he can against us. Have him hold the bets. None of this word of honor I'll pay if I lose. I want him to go after the high rollers in the Estates and get every crown he can."

„Are you sure? Our finances are so bad ... the whole Thing would turn on you. That's betting the longest shot... ."

„If he needs more to cover all the bets, let me know. I'll even make loans if I have to."

„Why? Why risk everything on a ball game?"

„We're going to win, Michael. The take will retire a few debts. We owe almost two hundred thousand nobles. If we average five to one return on a hundred thousand crowns, less say five percent to Aral as commission, we'd retire a quarter of it. If we drive it higher, and get the barons to bet big, we can strip them of a lot of their wealth. And wealth is power."

„In other words, you're going to backstab them for what they pulled when we weren't looking."

„There. You're starting to see it. Another debt we're going to pay."

„How can you be so sure you'll win? The experts say you'll be lucky to score two goals. The Panthers are taking this one like it's the match of the century."

„I'll win because I have to."

„Suppose word gets out and the odds plunge?"

„That's what Aral gets his commission for. If we win. The more we win, the more he makes. Right?"

Michael smiled. „I like it. Basically. I'll work on it. Though it hardly seems meet work for a secret service."

Ragnarson scribbled a note. „Give this to Derel. Your first hundred thousand. And authorization to draw more. Tell Aral to keep his pigeons from talking to each other. I want to hit those bastards hard."

He was angry. He hoped some deep-seated, unrealized rage was not compelling him to undertake totally foolish risks. There was no guarantee his plan for winning was not subject to prior detection.

„One more thing, Michael. Find out who was paid off."

„You'd better believe. I'm riding this one with you."

Prataxis read the note a fourth time. „He's out of his mind."

„I want to talk about that," Michael said. Derel gave him a hard look. „Really. He's getting weird. Playing too many long shots."

Prataxis leaned back in his chair, folded spidery fingers under his chin. „Tell me about it."

„Look. The thing with Mist. We lucked out."

„He's a lucky man."

„He's been a lucky man. Luck turns. Then there's this girl. He's making no secret of her. She's staying at his country house."

„An ancient and revered custom."

„I know. I'm a little prudish. But so are these Kaveliners. They won't care that he's got a leman. Who doesn't that can afford one? What'll shock them is, he's keeping her there where his kids can see it. That's a big deal here. We're from farther west. We don't see it that way. But... ."

„Enough. I agree. I've dropped a few hints. He doesn't listen anymore."

„Now there's this. Betting the whole treasury on a ball game. It's plain crazy. There's no way he can win. It's like he's trying to destroy himself."

„He's cagey. Some ways, he has fewer scruples than a Tervola. Captures is for cheaters. My guess is, he'll outcheat the Panthers."

„Oh, he'll win on the field. I'm talking about off it. We can't keep this quiet. Suppose he does fleece the Estates? They're going to smile about it? What'll people say about him risking public moneys?"

„So don't do it."

„You kidding?"

„Actually, yes. I do hope to get out of Kavelin with a whole skin once my work is done."

„So what do I do?"

„I can't help you." Prataxis pursed his lips thoughtfully. „You're right. He's getting strange. We have to rein him in. We have to convince him, first, that he's not favored of the gods, and, second, that he can't keep laughing in the face of fate. What's happening is, he's got a touch of that old royal megalomania. Since he wasn't raised to it, it's taking some odd twists."

„Can we educate him? He hasn't learned from his lapse with the succession."

„Uhm." Prataxis rose. „Let's get you that money."

„That's it? Go ahead?"

„What can we do?" As they neared the doorway, Prataxis mused, „His biggest error may be the way he's handling his wife." He looked Trebilcock directly in the eye.

„You're onto that too, eh?"

„It's pretty obvious. It's just as obvious that he knows. And he's doing nothing. Nothing."

„Think somebody should act for him?"

„That would be between a man and his conscience. Maybe. If the somebody could be sufficiently circumspect. But not right away. Let it ride a while."

Michael nodded. He respected Prataxis's political sense. Timing was everything.

Since returning from Al Rhemish he had been trying to come up with a way to carve out this cancer without getting carved himself. Maybe Varthlokkur would help... .

Bragi was having dinner when Dahl intruded, apologizing profusely. He bore a note. Bragi read it, frowned.

„What is it?" Inger asked.

„Mist is back. Wants to see me. All right. Bring her up, Dahl." The woman arrived a few minutes later. She looked older by a decade. „Been rough?" Bragi asked.

She nodded. „Could you spare a meal for a tired old woman?"

Inger gestured. A maid departed. Bragi eyed Mist uncer­ tainly. He'd planned on a heart-to-heart with Inger. Mist's appearance had killed the chance. Something always got in the way.

Or was he just finding excuses?

Mist sagged into a chair uninvited. „I'm exhausted."

„You asked for it." Ragnarson frowned. This was out of character. What was she up to? „Excuse me if I'm blunt. What're you doing here?"

„Looking for help. Again."

„I thought you got what you wanted."

„It's that mess in the east, Bragi. I didn't know how bad it was till I got a closer look. Now I know why the Tervola are spooked. It could mean the end of the world."

„Come on!" Inger said. „That's too much to swallow."

„You haven't seen it. I have."

„Start at the beginning," Ragnarson suggested. „All I know is what you've already told me. All Varthlokkur will do is threaten me about shooting my mouth off to Nepanthe."

So Mist told a tale about her predecessor, Lord Kuo, having had a presentiment about the great desert east of Shinsan. He had sent men to investigate. They had wakened some force terrible and ancient, that acted through a creature who called himself the Deliverer.

„Armies of dead men?" Ragnarson murmured in horror. „It raises up the dead against the living?"

That was the heart of it. The force behind the Deliverer empowered him to raise the recently dead to lead in battle. Those fighting him had to do more than battle: they had to keep their own fallen from coming under the Deliverer's sway and had to burn his casualties too, lest they be reanimated again and again. To Bragi it sounded like a struggle that could not be won by the living. A parable of the inexorability of death.

„It's a Trolledyngjan draug tale come true," he said. „Terrible. But why do you come to me?"

„Because when he's done with the empire the Deliverer will come for you."

„I don't understand," Inger said. „I missed something. You two know what you're talking about... ."

Bragi said, „Mist claims this warlord of the dead is Ethrian. Mocker's missing son. Nepanthe's son."

Mist said, „And you killed his father, Bragi. The real power that makes the Deliverer run is his obsession with revenge. First the empire, then you. Then the rest of the world."

„I think I understand why Varthlokkur doesn't want Nepanthe to find out. If what you say is true."

„It's true. Something in the east saved Ethrian from the Pracchia, made him over, and gave him immense power. I think it lost control. I saw him, Bragi. There is no describing him in words. He's like a natural force gone made. And if he isn't stopped it'll be the end of the world."

Inger croaked something. Bragi groaned. „I believe it. I don't want to, but I do. Look at Mist. She's scared silly. A princess of the Dread Empire terrified."

Mist admitted it. „You're right. It's got me so scared I can't think."

„And Varthlokkur knows all this."

„Probably. There is little that escapes his notice."

„Uhm. He knows. Maybe even more than you. But he wants to stick his head in the sand because Nepanthe might be upset. I can't put up with that. Let's go see him."

They found Varthlokkur in the castle library, reading an ancient book he closed too quickly when he noted Bragi's approach. He looked dismayed when he noticed Mist. „What is it? What do you want?" His voice threatened to squeak.

„I think you know. Tell him, Mist."

Mist repeated her story. The wizard's expression grew more and more distressed, then gradually hardened. Before she finished, he interrupted. „The answer is no. Find another way. I've finally gotten Nepanthe satisfied that her son is dead. As he is, in his way. Leave him in the grave."

„How about sending the Unborn?" Bragi asked.

„No. Aren't you listening? I won't help. Neither will Nepanthe. You deal with it yourself, woman. Bragi, I've warned you. You tell Nepanthe about this... ."

„I don't plan to. You're going to do it."

„You're not thinking rationally," Mist said. „What if I can't stop it? And the Council tells me there's a good chance I can't with the resources available. Then what? Where do you go to hide when the bulwark of Shinsan is gone? The Deliverer will find you in the Dragon's Teeth themselves."

Varthlokkur spat, shocking Ragnarson. „I'm going to protect my wife... ."

„I think that's what she's asking you to do," Bragi said.

„My way. Ragnarson, recall what the Thing did. With that law in place you're a dead man if you don't have me."

„Damned stubborn ass. What the hell is it with you? You want trouble with me? You know I don't stand still when people try to twist my arm."

„You'd better."

„I got along without you before I met you. I can live without you now." Ragnarson was getting heated. The wizard had been from the beginning.

„Stay away from my wife. Mist, the Deliverer is your damned problem. Ethrian is dead. And I'm going to keep it that way."

Mist smashed a fist into a stack of bookshelves so hard a dozen volumes tumbled to the floor. „You're not only being bullheaded, you're being stupid. Don't you understand? He won't stop with Shinsan."

Bragi took her arm. „Come on. We're wasting our time. He's gone goofy." He headed for the door. Over his shoul­ der, he said, „I'll remember this."

For a moment it almost seemed Varthlokkur would stick out his tongue.

Outside, Mist asked, „What now? There's not much hope without him."

„You and me, I guess. Maybe I can do something to reach the boy inside this Deliverer. Come on. I'll have to explain to Gjerdrum and Derel so they can cover my ass while I'm gone."

Mist's fright had lessened. She looked at him appraisingly. „In more ways than one, no doubt."

„Eh?"

„Why do I have a feeling my children are sudden hos­ tages, just in case this is a scheme to separate you from your base of safety?"

„Because you're a practical woman familiar with the way politics work. You're my friend, but what does that have to do with the course of kingdoms and empires?"

„It could be a nicer world."

„Derel and I have been trying. Nobody wants one. Unless they are in charge."

„Josiah, I asked you to lay low. You'll get us all hung, coming here."

„My Lady, this was too important to ignore." He told her of the confrontation in the library. „So now he's going off to Shinsan to confront this Deliverer personally. They're with Prataxis now. You needed to know."

„Maybe. Probably. Thank you. Now get back to your post before you're missed."

Gales bowed slightly, departed. He could not conceal his injured feelings.

Inger was scared. This looked like a gods-given opportunity. ... It was too soon after the victory in the Thing. That wound had not scabbed yet.

She paced, trying to balance risk against gain. „Damn it! All right! You can't win if you don't play." She seized a cloak, pulled it tight around her, concealed her hair and face inside its hood. She slipped out unnoticed by her servants, hurried toward Nepanthe's apartment.

Varthlokkur eased into his quarters. He lighted a candle, sat, tried to continue his research. The calligraphy kept slipping out of focus. It had been an hour since the scene with Bragi and Mist. He remained shaky, and a little embarrassed, a little ashamed. And a whole lot torn. Part of him insisted they had been right. That he was being foolishly selfish.

A shadow fell across his lap. „Nepanthe! How come you're out of bed?" Fear hit hard. She had dressed herself for travel. She had the baby bundled. „Oh, no," he mur­ mured. „Why?"

„You lied to me, Varth. Ethrian is alive. He's at a place called Lioantung, in Shinsan. And something has been done to hurt him. Mist was here today about him. I'm going with her when she goes back."

She had her stubborn face on. The wizard knew there would be no dissuading her.

„Did they tell you what your son is now?"

„Did who tell me? What?"

„Ragnarson and that Shinsaner witch."

„I haven't seen either of them. What have they got to do with it?" Anger fed anger. „You can come or stay as you please. But don't try stopping me."

„All right! We'll go!" Varthlokkur shouted. There was an hysterical edge to his voice. „Bragi, you cut your own damned throat. I'll sit back and laugh when the wolves pull you down."

Mist's shoulders slumped. Her beauty seemed to have deserted her. „It seemed the best hope, confronting him with his mother. He's still a child. The shock of having her see him the way he is. ... I thought it might bring him out of it."

Ragnarson grunted. He ran a whetstone along the edge of his sword. „Maybe. And maybe if he's got the big hate on for me I can do it my own way. What happens if I kill him? Will he rise up again, too?"

„I don't know." She tinkered with the portal she was preparing. „Five minutes."

Ragnarson grunted again. Outwardly, he was calm, a soldier about to enter battle for the thousandth time. Inside, he was in turmoil. Self-doubt raged. He was not sure he could do the necessary if the Deliverer could not be shocked out of his madness. Guilt about having slain the father still nagged him. Could he strike the son? Especially when the threat was less immediate and apparent?

Mist still had some convincing to do.

„Look."

He looked. He saw Varthlokkur and Nepanthe approach­ ing. The woman was determined. Varthlokkur moved jerki­ ly, like a marionette, lost within himself, face angry stone.

Nepanthe said, „We're going with you." The wizard said nothing at all. To him they did not exist.

„Just in time," Mist replied. „The gateway will open in a minute."

Bragi tried cracking a joke. Mist looked at him oddly. Nepanthe and Varthlokkur kept their eyes fixed on the portal. Bragi tried again. He could not get a smile. Not even from himself. „The hell with you all, then."

Nepanthe twitched. Varthlokkur did not respond that much.

„Time," Mist said. „I'll go first. You second, Nepanthe. Then Bragi and Varthlokkur and that." The Unborn had drifted into the room, its infant face alert and diabolic. Mist stepped forward and disappeared.

Ragnarson paced. Was this some grand trap meant to eliminate himself and Varthlokkur, Shinsan's dearest foes?

Nepanthe tightened her grip on Smyrena and stepped into the portal. Fighting butterflies, Bragi pocketed his whetstone, raised his sword, and stepped up to the mark. I'll charge through, he thought. They won't expect that.

He jumped.

Mist and a single Tervola waited on the far side. Ragnarson flew across the room, tripped over rubble, plunged headlong. His sword slipped out of his hand. He scrambled after it, conscious of stares, feeling sheepish. „Better safe than sorry."

Mist smiled and shook her head. The Tervola's face was concealed behind his mask, but his stance betrayed patro­ nizing amusement.

Varthlokkur came through the gateway. He looked around intently but said nothing. He joined Nepanthe. The Unborn popped through seconds behind him.

The Tervola nearly jumped out of his boots. Bragi chuck­ led. Mist said, „Easy now. It's all right." The Tervola had his fingers up twisting the initial gestures of a spell. „Take us to Lord Ssu-ma."

Bragi walked through the city in a state approaching shock. Lioantung, Mist called it. Dead Lioantung, he thought. Never had he seen such destruction. Fire had gutted everything. In some places brick and stone had burned, or melted like candle wax. The remains were strewn as if by an earthquake. Bones and fragments of corrupt flesh were thoroughly mixed with the rubble. The stench was overwhelming. Twice their guide used a minor spell to destroy particularly noxious clouds of flies.

„About time somebody used the Power for something practical," Bragi joked. Mist looked at him askance. He muttered, „Gods, this place is depressing. What the hell happened?"

„Ethrian happened, that's what. Varthlokkur. Do you believe me now?"

The wizard ignored Mist.

„What's that?" Bragi asked, indicating a pillar of smoke to the south.

„The legions burning their dead so Ethrian can't use them against us. Come on. We have to hurry."

The meeting with Eastern Army's staff was exactly what Ragnarson expected. The Tervola nearly exploded when they learned who he was. Only the calming presence of the army commander, a Lord Ssu-ma Shih-ka'i, kept their fury leashed.

Bragi responded positively to Shih-ka'i. The man didn't belong with the usual run of Tervola. Short and wide where they were lean and tall, he had a mischievous sense of humor. His mask represented an enraged boar. Mist said he sprang from peasant pig farmer stock. „Tell him he looks like an honest soldier," Bragi told Mist.

She translated. Shih-ka'i responded. Mist said, „He says you'd find him more stubborn than Lord Ko Feng." The woman and army commander engaged in a long exchange which betrayed occasional flashes of heat. Bragi guessed Shih-ka'i was dubious about her plan to bring Ethrian face to face with his mother. Mist apparently convinced him. Shih-ka'i led them back into the tortured streets.

Bragi watched Nepanthe closely. She drifted through the ruins with gaze firmly fixed, her face pallid. But near Lioantung's north gate she got the shakes. She paused to retch into the gutter. When Varthlokkur tried to comfort her, she waved him off. „I can stand it. I always could. I'm a real grown up person."

Rebuked, the wizard resumed his air of aloofness. His inner turmoil was reflected only in the agitation of the Unborn, which bobbed and flitted like a moth with indiges­ tion.

Lioantung was enough to gag a maggot, Bragi reflected. „Mist, this should be frozen in time. Made a memorial. Bring every would-be warlord in here and make him live with it for a week."

Mist answered with a weak smile. „It wouldn't do any good."

„Probably not. Human nature."

Shih-ka'i took a white flag from a soldier and headed out the gate. He set a brisk pace. Bragi hurried to stay close, so as not to seem less determined. These dread creatures in black had to be shown he was fearless. He laughed at himself. Human nature.

Ahead, an emaciated creature in rags rose atop a hum­ mock, ran his hand through his hair. A woman in white, who seemed fuzzy around the edges, helped him stand. He gestured. A panther, a bear, and a forest buffalo quickly joined him, assuming guardian stances. Mist and Shih-ka'i exchanged a few words. Mist told Nepanthe, „There he is."

That derelict is my godson? Bragi thought. That's the monster who wasted Shinsan's eastern provinces?

The boy looked ghastly, looked almost as dead as the corpses which supposedly fought for him.

Shih-ka'i halted. Bragi stopped beside him. Mist and the wizard stopped too. Nepanthe never slowed.

„Ethrian?" she said. „Look. See? This is your sister. Her name is Smyrena."

Bragi almost exploded from tension laughter. The incon­ gruity of it! And yet, how better to shock Ethrian back to reality?

Torment filled the boy's eyes. He started blubbering. „Mama. I thought they killed you. I thought they killed you."

Nepanthe held the baby in one arm, put the other around her son. „It's all right. It's over now, Ethrian. It's all right. You can come home."

The air was still, but... something was wrong, Bragi thought. The woman in white... her clothing fluttered as if stirred by a rising wind.

Suddenly, the beasts rose and loped away. Ragnarson sighed. He hadn't relished facing them.

Mother and son started toward the city.

Ethrian hurled his mother aside. A dark nimbus formed around him. The air crackled. Shih-ka'i bellowed. Varthlokkur caught Nepanthe before she fell. Ragnarson drew his sword, crouched, growled like a cornered beast.

Nepanthe shrieked at Ethrian. The Tervola tackled the boy, clamped fingers round his throat. From the corner of his eye Bragi saw movement on Lioantung's wall. He whirled, saw a long shaft arcing across the sky. Timing! he thought. His sword hammered the air above Shih-ka'i.

The Tervola bounced to his feet as Bragi pulled the broken spear from the earth. He said something which must have been a thank you, turned to the boy.

It all became confused, Bragi couldn't tell what was real and what was illusion: The woman in white apparently didn't exist in the flesh. Something equally fleshless appar­ ently possessed the boy. Mist and Shih-ka'i did a lot of yelling at one another. Ethrian kept trying to shout and Shih-ka'i kept stopping him. The woman in white kept helping her partner's enemies. At one point Varthlokkur spoke at length in the language of Shinsan. Then a great black cloud exploded from Ethrian, rushed upward in an oily pillar. At its base a glistening dome formed. And Mist said, „The devil in him has been forced out."

Baffled, Bragi stared up the pillar of black smoke-stuff. „I don't understand what's going on."

„We've won. We've conquered the Deliverer."

„I still don't understand. You said that before."

„I didn't... ."

The earth trembled beneath them. Maybe he couldn't understand everything, but he could sense that great forces were contending. He would have to be content to take Mist's word for the importance of the confrontation.

„It's over," she said. „Let's leave Nepanthe alone for a while. It was a slim hope, but she lost. Hell." She started toward the city. The Tervola was hurrying thither already, probably to find out about the shaft that had come within a whisker of killing him. Bragi walked beside Mist. She tried to explain.

Varthlokkur hovered uncertainly between his wife and Mist, finally halted two hundred yards from the site of Ethrian's fall. Bragi glanced back once, saw the woman in white fade away, saw Nepanthe standing tall and brave beside the gleaming dome. „I hope it comes out for them," he said.

„Who knows? He's too damned stiff-necked for his own good. And she has to learn... ."

Nepanthe shrieked. Bragi whirled. The dome had van­ ished. Nepanthe was down on the earth, clutching a body, shouting for Varthlokkur. The wizard raced toward her.

„Good gods," Mist murmured. „He's alive. He survived. I don't believe it. He survived the exorcism."

„What exorcism?"

„The ghost woman did it while... ."

„She never made a sound."

Mist chuckled weakly. „You didn't hear her? Then your witch blood isn't as thick as you claim. Come on. They need to be alone for a while."

„You can be halfway decent when you want, you know that?"

„Is that a compliment? Don't kick it around where the Tervola can hear it. I'm a princess of Shinsan now."

„Speaking of which... well, I was supposed to get my caravan people turned loose. Remember? Hsung hasn't come through. Michael says he's gone back to his old ways. We were supposed to get along, I thought."

„Lord Hsung is something of a problem. I'll straighten him out. Or get rid of him." She indicated the wall over the gate. Lord Ssu-ma was up there. „A dead man under Ethrian's control shot that spear. I have to run back to the war with Matayanga. Stay close to Lord Ssu-ma. Some of his staff would love to stick a knife in you. I'll see you in a few hours."

But Ragnarson didn't see her again. She went on to be Princess of the Dread Empire, and he went back to being King of Kavelin. To being King of a Kingdom where the news of his falling out with Varthlokkur quickly spread. To being King of a troublesome witch's cauldron almost eager to boil.

He never did understand everything that had happened before the walls of Lioantung. But he did understand what it had cost him.

The threat he never fully appreciated had been removed at the price of Varthlokkur's support. He sometimes won­ dered if ever he would be sure he had gotten a bargain.