Songs of the Dancing Gods

CHAPTER 9 FIFTY WAYS TO LEAVE YOUR LOVER

Joe stood there, feeling pretty stupid. He’d been so convinced, considering the day, that there would be no change at moonrise, that he’d been very sloppy.

“I have seen the objects transferred before, my lady,” he responded, the title coming unbidden. Just as he’d inherited an entire duplicate set of Kauri powers and instincts, and, yes, compulsions, so, too, had the damned curse duplicated not only Mia, but the full deck of Rules governing her as well. “As weres are supposed to exactly duplicate what they are nearest, it can happen.”

“This is madness!” Mia protested. “How can he own himself?”

“Because the ring’s a fake, really part of him,” Marge answered. “He’s not really a slave, he’s just duplicating, imitating one exactly.” She sighed. “So now what do we do?”

“He surely cannot go out like that,” Mia pointed out.

“And I can’t stay in,” Marge said. “After last night I need a recharge and a hotshot in spades, and, Mia, since you duplicated me exactly, so do you.”

“I can do nothing but spend the night here, my ladies,” Joe responded. “There is clearly nothing else I can do.”

“Yeah, and hope that this at least means the curse is no longer out of whack,” Marge responded. “Otherwise, tomorrow daytime, there’ll be two slaves and no master.”

Mia thought for a moment. “Uh, I would not leave this room all night in any case,” she told him. “The town is filled with soldiers and they all have been pressing me to dance, and, you know.”

“Besides,” Marge noted, “you don’t have the collar.”

“I shall behave, my lady,” he responded. How odd to be doing that to Mia! “I shall sit here and worry about the two of you.”

Marge laughed. “Don’t worry about us! We’re.not about to do any snooping tonight. Too hot out there for that! Come on, Mia! Let’s blow this joint!”

Joe watched them go, then went over to the nightstand where there was some barely nibbled-on fruits and vegetables. What a time! he thought grumpily, finishing them off. While doing so, he was suddenly seized with the thought of how unkempt and messy it all was. By the time he was finished, he’d practically scrubbed the place down with the washbasin water and was checking for things to mend. The only thing he could do nothing about was the dishes and the festering food in the chamber pot.

The trouble was, he couldn’t just throw it out the window as he had the dirty water.

It was quite late by this time; all the raucous noises of earlier in the evening had died down, and the town was basically closed. Maybe he could just sneak down…

No, that was madness. Suppose he ran into a bunch of drunken soldiers who wouldn’t take no for an answer? He’d already been the victim of one compulsion he hadn’t wanted to do; he sure as hell didn’t want that.

Why couldn’t I be standing next to Sugasto when a full moon comes up sometime? he wondered, frustrated and upset. Of course, he then would have Sugasto’s potential, but it would be moot, since he wouldn’t have all those years and years of training, practice, and self-discipline to make any real use of it. Still, it certainly would be better than this.

That mess in the chamber pot kept bothering him, though. The accumulated buzzing of the flies alone was enough to drive him nuts. He went over to the window and stuck his head out and listened. Almost dead quiet. The hell with it. I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life. Maybe this is one of them, he thought, but he picked up the trash can, gingerly, then, quietly, opened the door. The hall was dark, the only illumination coming from the reception area downstairs, which was just fine with him.

Quietly, he tiptoed down the hall to the stairs, then started down. The whole downstairs was dimly lit and looked empty. He continued down, feeling it was going to be fine, when suddenly a deep, rich male voice said, “You there! Come here!”

He jumped, turned, and saw, sitting at a table almost under the stairway… Holy cats! It’s Sugasto himself!

At least he didn’t have to stimulate a look of abject terror on his Mia-slave face.

“Come here! Now!” the sorcerer ordered, and he scampered over and knelt, head bowed.

“Yes, my lord?”

The Master of the Dead reached out a hand under the slave girl’s chin and slowly raised the head, studying it. “Where are you going? Why are you up and about at this hour?” he demanded.

“M-my master has been ill,” he managed, never feeling closer to doom than right this second. “I—I am throwing out what his stomach could not take.”

Sugasto looked over at the chamber pot, but not too closely. “Ick! Yuck!” he exclaimed, disgusted. He reached out a hand and the chamber pot flew from Joe’s hand. A bolt of blue-white light came from the sorcerer’s fingers, enveloped the chamber pot, and the entire thing vanished in a puff of smoke.

Joe turned back to Sugasto, suitably impressed, and waited. The man had certainly aged since the last time he and Joe had seen one another. The face was pitted and puffy, the eyes surrounded with lines, the hair mostly gray, and he’d put on a fair amount of weight. Still, there was no mistaking the bastard. The worst part was, Joe realized, if he’d been there, as Joe, with his sword at his side, two inches from Sugasto’s neck, he would have been just as helpless as he was now.

“Where’s your collar, child?” the sorcerer asked, almost kindly.

“My lord, we came only a few days ago out of Marquewood. The collar which my master purchased did not seal and fell away and we have not yet had chance to get another.”

When the only defense you had was your wits, you used what you had.

“Hmmm… Make a note of that, Quod,” the sorcerer commented, and for the first time Joe saw that the sorcerer was not alone. With him was a Ben tar officer, looking meaner and oilier than most of them already did.

“Of what, sir?” the officer asked.

“I think I made a mistake on the regulations. I like this plain, unadorned look. If restraints are needed, they can use shackles. No collars from now on. Get the word out. No jewelry or such of any kind.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me, child,” the sorcerer said, turning back to Joe, who had remained on one knee, “how do you like the new fashion in slaves?”

“My lord, it is not for such as I to like or dislike.”

“Well said. Don’t worry about returning thus to Marquewood. By this time next year, this will be the fashion there as well.” He reached out suddenly and put his hand on the slave’s bald pate. “Do you know that just by doing thus I could remove that which is you and put it in that little bottle there?”

“N-no, my lord.”

“No?” The sorcerer seemed genuinely surprised. “Do you not know who I am?”

“No, my lord. I have no doubt you are the greatest of all sorcerers, but I concern myself only with serving my master.”

He let go of the head and Joe had to suppress his feeling of intense relief. But the hand continued down the body, not missing what on any but a slave would be considered private parts.

Sugasto stopped that suddenly, then reached up and touched the nose ring. “Hmmm… Odd pattern. This is no common magician’s product. The way it’s done, it almost seems like… Who put this ring in your nose? And where?”

“My lord, I do not know the names. A big town in Marquewood. The ring was purchased there.”

“The one who put the ring in—was he a big, old man with a flowing white beard?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“I thought so!” He took Joe’s face by the chin and held it up, as if looking at a bust, and studied it. “I could almost… No, it would be inconceivable. Still—how ill is your master, girl?”

“He is recovering well, my lord. It appears to have been a touch of bad food. There is not much here. He was sleeping well when I left him.”

Sugasto nodded. “Very well. If he’s well enough to ride tomorrow, you tell him to come to the military camp outside of town. You tell him the Master of the Dead commands his presence. Can you remember that?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“At midday tomorrow. They will be expecting him. You come, too.”

“Yes, my lord. I will tell him. “Oh, great!

“You get him there. Tell him that if he does not appear, ones will come for him, and he might well not have to worry about bad food again. Understand?”

“Y-yes, my lord.”

“I like you, girl,” the sorcerer commented, continuing in the gentle if patronizing tone of voice he’d used aff along. “It would be child’s play to alter that spell in the ring…”

Joe again fought momentary panic. What if Sugasto just took him, now, like this, and he changed back tomorrow morning? Worse, what if he didn’t change back?

“Go on back up to your master, girl,” the sorcerer said at last. “But don’t forget to tell him when he wakens!”

“I swear I will tell him, my lord!”

“I know you will.” He patted Joe on the rump. “Okay, now, off! I have work to do here!”

Joe didn’t need any more urging. He was off and up the stairs as fast as possible and back into the room. His heart was pounding like mad, and he stood there, back against the door as if barring it with his body against intrusion, for quite some time.

“Sugasto? Here?” Marge could hardly believe it, and really didn’t want to. “You don’t suppose he’s still in the place, do you?”

“I would doubt it, my lady,” Joe responded. “I heard a large number of horses leave some time ago, although it was quite late. He would be riding with ah honor guard, even if he needs no protection himself.”

“Well, that’s something,” the Kauri commented. “You’re sure he didn’t suspect? Not that you were Joe, but that you might be Mia?”

“He saw some resemblance, my lady, that was clear, but he has never seen this body before and would be going on descriptions alone. Possibly, had I had hair and Marquewood slave dress he would have made the connection.”

She chuckled. “Just like his kind to have their petty little perversions get in their own way. Still, you’re lucky. With a wave of his hand, he could have put you in a trance and made you spill everything. It was a close call.”

Joe nodded. “Still, my lady, he is not free of all suspicions, or else why would he command our presence later on? He saw Ruddygore’s signature in the slave spell in the nose ring. I do not think he believes me to be anything other than I seemed, but he will be far more critical of the barbarian. Even worse, what if the curse does not lift at sunrise? Then his people will come later on and find two slave girls here. It is certain then that this would quickly become my permanent condition.”

“Surely you aren’t gonna keep that date anyway! Why, you’d be riding of your own free will right into the enemy camp! One slight misstep and he’ll have the both of you!” She looked at the great sword Irving, hanging in its scabbard on the bedpost. “You’ve got a disguise, but what about that thing?”

“My lady, unless I had to call it by name to summon it to my hand, I could call it ‘George’ or ‘Trenton,’ for that matter. And if I needed to summon it, there would be little point in pretending any way.”

“What if the Baron is there?” Mia asked worriedly. “He, or she, or whatever he is these days, has seen us. The disguises might not be good enough to fool him.”

“Well, my lady, he, or she, wasn’t with Sugasto last night. I have thought of the possibility that this meeting is to do just that—let Boquillas have a look at us. It cannot be dismissed as a possibility. But doing anything but obeying is unthinkable. It is a day’s ride over a single road to the border, if that would stop them. Otherwise, he has an army of men and fairies around here. We are as trapped as if we were in his Hypboreyan lair.”

“That’s a point. Ah, sunrise!”

For a moment, Joe felt real fear when nothing happened, but Mia hadn’t changed, either. Marge had seen the first light of dawn, but it was another two or three minutes before any part of the sun made it over the horizon.

Joe was Joe again. He let out an ecstatic “Yippee!” and banged one fist into the other. He turned to them and said, “If I’m gonna go, I’d rather be as me. It looks like his snare spell just scrambled the curse for a night, which is a real relief.” He looked over at Mia. “First things first. I have to get some clothes on, and then we’ve got to find a bolt cutter.”

“Huh?”

“The spell gave me the ring but not the collar. Sugasto saw me—Mia—without it. In fact, he decreed them off right then and there. If she’s got one on when we meet him, that’ll be a tip-off right away.” He turned to Mia. “Remember, for some reason he took a real fancy to you. Play it cool but don’t overdo it. I don’t want him to order me to hand you over to him.”

The idea alarmed her. “What would I do, Master, if he did?”

“Almost anything’s possible this afternoon. If he does, then go. We’ll find you. Hell, if I could get us both up there, on him, I’d do it and save us a real journey. But I’d rather we do it together, and not as prisoners of the enemy.”

“I’d think, once you get that collar off, you’d better try and get some sleep,” Marge grumbled.

“The hell with sleep. He’s expecting a man just getting over food poisoning anyway, and he knows Mia was up and about most of the night.”

“Yeah, but it seems to me that you need a clear head.”

“Very little sleep is needed during the were periods. It’s as if you slept while the other form was awake. Don’t ask me about it—look it up sometime.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“You’d best sleep outdoors today. Let them come in and do routine things in the room. They might well send somebody to search it anyway. If we don’t come back, you can’t do much. Return and tell Ruddygore. If we do, come again at dusk. We’ve still got one more night of the moon.”

“Well, I don’t like it, but okay. In case moonrise comes before you get all the way back, but it’s clear, come to the back window as whatever you are. I’ll figure it out. If they take you, they’ll come and get all your things and I’ll know: If nobody comes, not even the hotel people, I’ll know that, too.”

He nodded. “Good enough.”

Getting the collar off was a hell of a lot harder than he thought it would be and took the better part of two hours and a lot of finagling to do it without cutting, burning, or strangling Mia.

He got ready in his new buckskin outfit, even though it was still mild out. It had the best image, and an image, with the beard and other disguises, different from the one they’d be looking for. Thanks to the Rules, all people here tended to categorize folks much stricter than they did even back on Earth.

As they rode out toward the camp, though, he was more worried about himself than about Mia. She’d shown time and again how cool she could be under pressure and she wasn’t under the same kind of cloud that he was. Mia had proved herself last night; now Cochise was on trial.

Although he’d always thought of the Bentar as birds of prey, they looked more dinosaurlike in the full light of day. He presented his old pass to them from the entry station. They glanced at it, then nodded. “You are expected. Straight on to the flagpole, then the second building on your right.”

And now, in the full light of day, they rode straight into the heart of the enemy force.

The building wasn’t hard to find, and they were actually early. He thought it better to be early than late. A nervous-looking human officer told them to wait outside until called, and they did so.

Mia sat, looking at all the activity, then suddenly frowned, then got up, somewhat excited. “Look, Master! A flying horse with wings!”

He looked where she was pointing and, sure enough, there it was, all stately-looking, right out of the old myths and legend books. A huge, pastel pink stallion, not too different in coloration from Marge, with enormous birdlike wings, circling to land. Its rider appeared to use no bridle and, indeed, sat back a bit, almost tied on, feet straight out across its back so as not to interfere with the wings. It didn’t look comfortable to Joe.

“Impressive,” he said to her. “I’ve never seen one before, except in the picture books and on gas station signs, but I guess they had to exist somewhere around Husaquahr. Everything else does.”

“That is the sort of steed we need for a journey such as ours, Master,” she noted. “Far better to have wings, but if we cannot, that would do.”

He agreed with that. He had actually considered making time by traveling during these three nights of the moon as a Kauri, but Kauris weren’t very strong, and they could have taken little with them—nor, indeed, could any of them have so much as touched Irving. The iron in the great sword would have burned both him and Mia severely and would have killed Marge.

Still, he wondered how many of the flying horses were around here and if they served a primary military function. Many of the more experienced officers and noncoms here would have been on the losing side at Sorrow’s Gorge, and he didn’t remember any there.

The door opened behind them, and he and Mia arose and turned, expecting to see the office flunky calling them in. Instead, it was the Master of the Dead himself, followed by his Bentar flunky, the latter looking much the worse for wear. Joe knelt, and took his sword, still in its scabbard, and touched the hilt to his forehead in salute.

“Come, come! Get up, sir!” the sorcerer said, the wind catching and rippling his black robes. “I’m not the king, and it’s a beautiful day.” He breathed in and out several times. “Good, fresh air and sunshine. I get so little of it these days that I want to savor it when I can. You are…?”

“Cochise, my lord,” he responded. “Cochise of Tsipry.”

“Ah! You are Valisandran by birth, then.”

“Yes, my lord, by birth but not for a very long time. I was orphaned young. There was a sickness that went through my tribe, and many of the young children were sent south in hopes of avoiding it. Truly, I have not been back since, which is one of the reasons for this journey.”

“Hmmm… Interesting.” He turned to the aide. “Any Tsipry here?”

The Bentar shook its head negatively. “No, my lord.”

“You seem certain of that.”

“My people may be the sickness he recalls as a child. The artu of the Bentar had a bit of a disagreement with them fifteen or twenty years back. I remember it well; I was very young at the time. I would say that there are very few Tsipry anywhere now, sir, and most would be like this one.”

Always nice to have your inquisitors back up your alibis, Joe thought.

Sugasto cleared his throat. “I see. Sorry to bring up old wounds on such a pretty day. Does the colonel’s presence here trigger hostile feelings?”

“No, my lord,” Joe responded smoothly. “It is a sad chapter because it was personal, but I have been in the position of his people in other cases, so I cannot judge. I fought for Valisandra and the Baron alongside his people as well as my own at Sorrow’s Gorge.”

“Indeed? I was there myself, but I don’t recall you.”

“Uh, pardon, sir, but I do not recall you there, either, but it was a very big battle.”

“Uh, yes,” Sugasto admitted. “And I was a horse of a different color there, at that.”

A black stallion, if memory serves, Joe thought, but he said nothing.

“How is your health today?” the sorcerer asked him.

“Better, sir, but I am still being careful today while my full strength returns. Once my body expelled the offending food, I could sleep.”

“Come, walk with me a bit in this nice air,” the sorcerer invited. “I was going to offer a complete cure, but it seems you don’t need such services. The sun and fresh air aid recuperation better than most other things anyway. Stroll with me, and we’ll reminisce a bit as two old comrades at arms meeting once again.”

And that’s exactly what he wanted to do. Joe knew, of course, that this was also a test, but he couldn’t figure out why Sugasto was being, both so friendly and so conventional in his interrogation. But, of course, he was a master sorcerer, and he would assume that anybody from Ruddygore had been as blocked as he’d block his own people from enemy powers.

Since Joe had indeed fought at Sorrow’s Gorge, it was an easy test to pass.

They walked along, the Bentar, then Mia following, and Joe got almost as much of a kick out of the reactions of the folks they encountered as they walked as Sugasto obviously did.

“So, how come you aren’t on our team now?” The sorcerer asked at last “We can always use good men like you.”

“I hope my lord doesn’t take offense,” Joe responded, “but I am a professional mercenary. I chose the Baron back then not out of old loyalties to king and country, but because I like the work and, if you are on the winning side, it pays well. The Baron lost.”

“Only because of that damned dragon and some treachery on the part of the Council.”

“Indeed, it looked to me at the time like a can’t-lose situation. Since then, I have taken only small commissions from stable local authorities, and done, I admit, some less than honest work between jobs. The girl, there, for example, was booty from a little pirating I did downriver.”

“And in spite of all this, you don’t think we’ll win?”

He shrugged. “It appears as impressive as before, and I have heard of your legion of the dead, which would have been quite useful in the old days, and your powers are legendary. But the Baron was the best in his day, yet not a good gambler in the end. His less than dependable political maneuverings, as you mention, were part of his undoing, and he allowed himself to be beaten by a lesser power who was better at psychology.”

Sugasto stopped and looked at the mercenary with some respect. “That’s an excellent analysis. It is a reason why Boquillas works for me now. Did you know that?”

“No, my lord. I thought he was dead.”

“Not dead, no. Different, I’ll allow, but still with that amazing mind. I am not even certain that Boquillas can die. Consider, he has rejected and fought against Heaven, and he has betrayed Hell. When the soul has no refuge, it remains. The only relevant fact is that I have that mind and that knowledge at my disposal because there’s nowhere else to go. As to the rest, we can fight if we have to, and Ruddygore, alone, won’t find me the sort of ivory tower academic the Baron was—I know him far too well. But I prefer imagination first. I can say nothing more at this time, but if my plan works, we can conquer without war and perhaps without even a face-off, since the chilled livers of the Council would back any victory already won. There would be localized fighting, resistance, and pacification, of course, but no great war.”

“This interests me,” Joe told him, “but what if your plan fails?”

“Then tactics change. We lose nothing. That is the beauty of it. Uh—by the way, speaking of Ruddygore, how does it happen that your girl has one of his rings in her nose?”

He’d thought long and hard about that question. “I haven’t the vaguest idea,” he responded. “And I’m afraid you’d have to ask her original owner in Hell. I had no idea whose it was, only that she’s mine now.”

“Ah, that explains it, then. The old fart always was a real hypocrite. Have you ever met him?”

“Once, my lord. He was an impressive sort of man, as I recall.”

“Indeed he can be that. He could have ruled all Husaquahr and probably would have, had he not that trick of escaping into the Other World for his pleasures. It diverted him from greatness into moralizing and preaching, only it is he who determined what is good or bad according to his present moods. To him, this is all just a game, and everyone other than himself is just a game piece, to be toyed with, played with, even sacrificed. He is so ancient now and has played these games so long that he plays now for the game’s sake, without any goals or purposes in mind. I could never accept that sort of thinking. One plays a game to win. Don’t you agree?”

“I do not fight to lose, my lord,” he responded.

Sugasto laughed. “Well said! Ah—I know your stomach may feel its bruises, but will you risk lunch with me?”

“In truth, sir, I feel like a starving man.”

They went to a huge tent pavilion where a galley had been set up. It was full of officers when they arrived, but, to the mutual amusement of Joe and Sugasto, almost all of them miraculously finished eating and got out of there when they entered.

“Now that’s the fun of it.” The sorcerer chuckled. “If your own side isn’t terrified of you, what right have you to expect that your enemies will be?” He paused, then stared straight at Joe. “But you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“There is fear, which is unreasoned, and that I do not have,” Joe lied. “But there is also respect, which is both reasoned and earned, and that I have for you in great abundance.”

The answer really pleased the man in black. “You are delightful! In truth, sir, you are the first nonmagical human being I have been able to talk to like this in years! Ah, let us eat. Take care, sir, that your stomach not rebel, but eat with confidence. Either my armies eat only the best or they eat the cooks!”

“My stomach has survived worse than a bad piece of meat,” Joe responded. “I will not let it cheat me of a decent meal.”

Sugasto laughed. He looked over at Mia. “Girl, come over and sit on the ground beside me here a bit.”

Mia looked nervously at Joe, who nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Yes, Master,” she responded, and went around to Sugasto’s side of the table.

It was unusual for a sorcerer, male or female, to take much interest in sex except as another, sometimes required, tool of the trade. Joe couldn’t figure out whether that was it, or whether it was the personal slave concept itself that turned the man on. It might just have been that, having had Boquillas around in Mahalo’s body for so long, he just wanted a woman around who was always respectful, obeyed orders, and kept her mouth shut. Joe could see by Mia’s eyes that she was far too terrified to have such thoughts herself.

The meal was not merely good, but excellent, and Joe had to wonder if this sort of fare was what the officers usually got. Somehow, the day the general showed up for inspection, you always got filet mignon instead of old army boot.

“So you are on your way to Tsipry,” Sugasto said over wine. “A pilgrimage, of sorts, I take it?”

Joe nodded. “Yes, sir. I have funds at the moment, I have no pressing need of employment, and I always promised myself that I would do it. I have no memories of it that I can call true and I want to see it once.”

“That’s in the Upper Lakes district, if I remember,” the sorcerer replied. “Cold up there, even this time of year. With summer waning, autumn on its way, and the need to divert resources, I’ve been playing with a little spell. Boquillas worked it out for our own people, but it’s rather simple, once you know it. It insulates against weather, sort of in the same way much fairy flesh does it for them, yet, like them, you can’t see it or know it’s there. The only problem is, it seals in what is there as well, so you can’t add much of anything, either, and it plays hob with hair. Not practical for most people, I fear, but slaves like your girl, here, are perfect. We’re going to distribute it and have all the slaves treated this way. It dispenses with the need for those idiotic hafiids even in subzero cold and for sun protection in the tropics, reducing the cost to food alone. With your permission, I’ll do you a favor.”

Joe could hardly refuse in any event. He watched as the sorcerer turned the kneeling Mia toward him, then made a few hand passes and ran his hands over some of her body at a very slight distance.

“There,” Sugasto said. “Now, within the normal extremes of nature, she’s as protected as a nymph. Just keep her like this and all you’ll need do is feed her. In fact, you’ll have to. As our experiments with this on some of our undead show, the spell rejects anything not within its field. Otherwise, there are no side effects. A little gift, in hopes that once you make your pilgrimage, you’ll return and sign on with us.” He snapped his fingers and the Bentar aide, who had not eaten—they were, if Joe remembered right, eaters of carrion and sometimes freshly killed prey—snapped to attention.

“Give me some paper and a stylus,” the sorcerer instructed, and it was quickly gotten. Sugasto scribbled something on the paper, then made a pass over it. The writing, which, although in the ideographic Husaquahrian alphabet, had been rather primitive scrawls actually seemed to wriggle around on the page as if composed of tiny snakes, forming then absolutely perfect characters that looked like woodcuts. He made another pass, and Joe recognized the seal of Hypboreya when it faded in in sort of a gray color. The paper was then handed to Joe.

“Take that with you,” the sorcerer told him. “It is a safe conduct good for sixty days throughout my realm. It should ease problems in travel and make things easier. It will also get you better food, I suspect. After that, I hope we will learn that you have joined us completely. I believe we can offer a very high commission to one like you. You could wind up a military governor someday. I wish I could offer you quick passage to the Lakes, but little goes to and from that area, and we have other needs.”

“I thank you, my lord, for your extreme, unexpected, and unwarranted generosity,” he responded, hardly able to contain himself. This was better than he could have hoped. “I admit, though, to looking longingly at one of the flying horses you have. Why weren’t they in our old battles?”

“The pegasus? They’re tough to tame, hard to ride, and fragile as all hell. There’s less there than meets the eye. They wouldn’t last minutes in a battle. We use them to speed orders and maintain communications links around the empire. They’re not good for much more. Sorry—there’s only two in this entire military district.”

“I was not trying to impose, just commenting.”

“Well, I understand. It’s a long, long way to Tsipry,” he noted. “Now, it has been a genuine pleasure, sir. I have much to attend to and you must excuse me, but I feel certain that we will meet again.”

“As do I, sir,” Joe responded, rising. He gestured to Mia, who got up and scampered after him.

As soon as they were away, a Bentar officer approached and bowed.

Sugasto looked at him. “Well?”

“A considerable number of coins, the usual clothing one would expect of one coming from the south, including loincloths, and the remains of what appeared to be bronze ornamentations, a rather elaborate beltlike contraption that makes noises when moved or put together whose function we cannot fathom, although it appears innocuous, and the usual saddlebag materials. Nothing else, my lord.”

“Hmmm…” the sorcerer said, thinking. “That man is one of the most dangerous nonmagical men I’ve ever met, but he does seem to be precisely what he claims.”

“You had many ways to plumb his very soul and beyond, my lord. If you still have doubts, why didn’t you use them?” the aide asked him.

“Partly because someone that strong has strong magical allies who could shield him, and partly because, to get through those, I would have most likely destroyed someone who might be extremely useful. There was also this very odd sense of fairy about him when I initially probed him that defied explanation. The girl had it, too, last night, which is why I found her so intriguing, but then she didn’t have it today. It’s the damndest thing… But he’s a mercenary all right, and a good one, and she’s definitely a properly bound slave, as both seem to be. Still…”

“If he passed all the conventional tests, why do you still doubt him?” the aide asked.

“Because, while I know I have never laid eyes on that man in my life, I could swear, after talking to him, that I’ve met him before, even spent some time with him. It’s just a feeling; there’s no rational basis for it, but I can’t get it out of my mind. Perhaps it will come to me, sooner or later, or I’ll find some good way to divine it without having to pay a price to a demon.”

“But you gave him safe conduct, my lord!”

“Northbound, yes. Where can he go that isn’t ours? As I suspected, he was illiterate. He never even tried to read the safe conduct, which is a natural act of any literate person. It is valid, but it also states that, if he tries to leave the empire, he is to be arrested using all necessary force.”

“Still, my lord, you permit a potential spy of high capability to roam freely behind us?”

“Let him look. He won’t be difficult to find. He has deep, genuine affection for that girl, perhaps even love of some kind, and she worships him as a dog worships her master. A big mercenary with a naked slave girl in the north won’t exactly be unnoticed. The same spell that protects her binds her to me. If the spell is removed, she dies horribly. If it is not, then at any time I wish I can command her as easily as I work my will upon the dead. I can summon her soul to me, no matter where she is. No, gentlemen, I don’t believe we have much to fear by giving him a little rope.”

Joe used his abilities of fairy sight to examine the pass and found nothing there. It was just what it said it was. Of course, he had no guarantee it was really a safe conduct, but that would be easy enough to test.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, that sure turned out better than it had a right to,” he noted.

“Yes, Master.”

“But?”

“No, it is not that, Master. I have thoughts again of the flying horse.”

“Forget it. You heard what the man said. No use pushing our luck.”

“But there is one night of the full moon left, Master! The longest, just about all night! If one of us could somehow be next to that creature at moonrise…”

“Hmmm… I see what you mean. It might carry us and our supplies a pretty fair distance by dawn.”

“Then you will give me permission to do it?”

He looked around. “There’s got to be thousands of lonely men on this base. I’m not gonna leave you here for hours and hours just on the off chance you might get in there. Too dangerous.”

“Master, I am but your property, your tool. It is my function to try this if it is possible.”

“No, if anybody tries it, it should be me. I can bluff my way around for a while if this pass is any good, and I weigh more than twice what you weigh, so more could be carried.”

“Master, someone must get everything together and ready. I cannot leave without you. They would notice. Your safe conduct is nothing for me. And if I left carrying your sword, if I could, it would be noticed. But if you left, they would hardly remember the slave you came in with. I am the only one. And as you will change, too, probably to Kauri, you will be able to fly as well. But you must remember to wrap all things iron securely and only what we need and what the two of you together could lift.”

He frowned. Damn it, it did seem worth a try, and since they wouldn’t really be stealing anything, nothing would be missed. And, so long as she was not caught and managed to get away, two big “ifs,” even if it proved impractical, it wouldn’t be that much of a problem.

“You really think you can do it?”

“Master, the worst that happens is that I get caught and must be a tearful slave who lost her way. Otherwise, I shall simply become one of these men, or a Bentar, or something similar and nothing is lost. Yes, I believe I can do it.”

“All right, then. Let’s test out this safe conduct and go see the pegasus. If you can give everybody around the slip and hide nearby, it’s on. Otherwise, you get on your horse, which will be left there, and you come out with me.”

She nodded.

When you act like you have nothing to fear, it’s amazing how easily you can move around restricted areas. They were stared at, now and again, but they reached the area where the flying horses—or, as they discovered when they got there, more properly flying horse—were kept before anybody even tentatively asked for their authorization.

Joe whipped out the safe conduct, and the man who made the challenge blanched and lost all his belligerence. Sugasto was right about one brag: his army was scared stiff of him.

The pegasus was grazing, much like any other horse, the huge wings folded up and at its sides. Joe stared and stared at it and couldn’t for the life of him figure out how something this large could fly without a jet engine, but he’d had much the same feeling about Kauris, too. Not that the pegasus was a big animal; disregarding the wings it was actually a bit smaller than it looked when flying, perhaps more like a circus pony, complete with hairy hooves, although the legs looked impossibly thin, so thin that it was almost easier to believe it could fly than to believe it could stand up for long on them. Incredibly, aside from a long rope tied around its neck on one end and to a post on the other, there was no apparent stable or pen for it, and there seemed nobody around to ask.

“You really think you can do this?” he asked her, worried.

“Yes, Master, I do. There are plenty of shadowy places near the buildings there, and tall grass and rocks.”

“Like as not the guy’ll come back and fly it away. Then what?”

“Then I will return to you as something else.”

They walked away from the pegasus and toward the shadows from the nearest building, which appeared to be some kind of livery supply or maintenance shed. In a moment, they were in back of it and out of possible sight against the back of a hill. After a minute or so, he knew they’d not been seen.

He stood there a moment, looking at her. She was hairless and naked and plain-looking, a hairless little eunuch…

He grabbed her suddenly, and kissed her the way neither he nor any other man had ever kissed her before, the kind of kiss you know only in your dreams. Suddenly, he released her, whispered, “Don’t fail me,” and walked back out into the open, leaving her standing there, totally speechless.

She would never fail him, she knew. She would die for him first.

“You left her where to do what?” Marge almost shouted at him. “How could you? Her life versus maybe two weeks time?”

“It was her idea. She came up with it and she just about pleaded to do it.”

“With maybe twenty thousand horny guys around and Sugasto, for Christ’s sake! Not to mention the Bentar!”

“I know, I know.”

“Yeah? You ever thought that, if she actually does make the change, she’s gonna need almost a runway to take off in, galloping the whole way? And when she gets up there in the dark she’s gonna have some big, leather-winged goons just waiting to pounce? You think a horse can fly like a Kauri?”

“No, I hadn’t thought about some of those things, and thanks for giving me more things to worry about,” he responded.

“Then why in hell did you let her do it?”

He stared at his old friend and comrade. “Because I thought she could,” he said simply.

She stared at him. “Holy cats! You’re in love with her! Oh, great! What an odd couple you two make!”

He sighed. “You’ve been a fairy too long, Marge. You don’t plan these things. Since we left Terindell, she’s been a whole different person. And, no, I know what you’re thinking—it’s not the kinky bondage stuff. I’d do away with that in a minute if the Rules allowed it. It’s beyond that sort of crap. Throw it away. Ignore the slave thing. She’s been a partner, tough, has more guts than any man of any status I ever met, as smart as anybody I know, and in just a short week she’s become my indispensable left arm. She’s got all the qualities I loved in Ti, only more so, but without the qualities that kept us apart. I don’t know another person who wouldn’t have been destroyed by what’s been done to her, yet the more she was stripped of everything, the stronger she’s grown. The laws, the Rules, and the sorcerers took everything people think they desire from her, stripping her down to her core, and that core’s proved already to be somebody remarkable. ”

She stared at him. “Boy, you got it bad.” Still, she had to admit, he had a real point. That girl was beginning to look like somebody who, were it not for the slave business, would take Husaquahr by the tail and shake it.

The odd thing was, had she not been a slave, she probably would never have revealed or even known how good she was. She’d be somebody’s wife, or maybe a political manipulator or something like that, depending on where she was, but she’d never have been forced to test herself and would never have been willing to take the kind of chances she took. When you had nothing, not even your dignity, you also had nothing to lose. With no inhibitions even possible, and with her brains and resourcefulness, Marge thought, she was probably more dangerous than anybody, even Joe in a rage.

“She’s not gonna look any better, either,” Marge pointed out.

He shrugged. “I married my first wife because she had the most stunning looks of any woman I’d ever seen. She had the soul of a viper—if she has a soul at all. With Ti, it was not only her looks but her education, her background, her breeding—all the stuff neither I nor my first wife had. I may be slow and ignorant, but even I eventually learn. I guess it was because everybody always prejudged me by my looks. This is a primo lesson in how unimportant that crap really is. Boquillas was one of the best-looking, dashing, charismatic men I ever met. Sugasto was kind of a pretty boy, too, when we first met him. It’s what’s behind the face and eyes that count.”

“Well, okay, Lover Boy, we’ll talk more about this some other time,” the Kauri said at last. “If she’s that good, and we don’t have your iron wrapped, the money secure, and all the rest of the junk ready to go, and she gets here, we’re gonna fail her.”

“Good point,” he admitted, and started work.

“You aren’t even worried about her?”

“Worried sick,” he admitted. “But if she wasn’t my slave but my partner and equal, a mercenary or Amazon or something like that, I wouldn’t have hesitated and you wouldn’t have anguished about it.”

“Yeah, okay. You handle the sword, remember. And wrap it securely.”

He nodded. “I’ll do the iron first. The rest I’ll let you get to, since I want to go down and settle the bill.”

“Holy cats! You’re gonna pay this dump?”

“Sure. I don’t want any blemishes on the record. And if they know we intend to set out before dawn, they won’t wonder why they never saw us leave.”

“Well, I just hope your pegasus can carry everything. Us, too. We’re great for sprinting and medium flights, but these wings won’t match the kind a flying horse would have.”

“The guy I saw flying the thing looked about average. What’s a Kauri weigh, anyway?”

“Dunno. Haven’t had to worry about a scale in years now. Fairy construction is very different from human, though. I’d say forty pounds, give or take. Just a wild guess. Still, it means not having to worry about straps and seat belts.”

“Easily within limits, even with this stuff.” He picked up the newly bought hafiid, then tossed it. “Won’t have to worry about that, thanks to Sugasto. I wish we had a decent magician along, though. I’d love to know if he added anything nasty to that spell.”

“I can read some of it,” she told him, packing away. “Hey— you better take care of that bill now, or you’re either gonna have to fly it down or she’s gonna have to carry somebody the size of the manager.”

“Good point,” he admitted, took out some money, and left the room.

For Mia, the waiting was the worst part. Not because it was so boring in and of itself, but because she had nothing to do but think. Why had he kissed her like that? Why had he kissed her at all, let alone with such—such passion. They had made love, yes, but when they thought themselves married, it had been fun but, well, ordinary. And the last time, it was an act of kindness, she knew, to help her forget her shearing. This one kiss had been different, almost, well, electric. It had been hours now, and she still felt tingly and turned on. It wasn’t the sort of thing that could be so convincingly faked—well, after living with him for months now, it wasn’t something he could fake, she knew.

It couldn’t be physical. The shearing and the removal of all adornments made her looked like an eleven-year-old eunuch.

She was finally snapped out of her confused thoughts by the appearance of a large red-bearded man in furs and horned helmet coming toward the pegasus. The man looked particularly odd because it was still fairly warm out, and he had to be sweltering in that outfit. The reason for his garb was apparent when he went to the shed and started assembling the gear and taking it over to the pegasus.

He’s going to fly off! Too soon! Too soon! she thought, disappointed beyond words. This was all for nothing, just folly.

A soldier approached the man, saluted, and said, “Are you certain you want to risk it? You might not make it until after dark, and you know how bad the pegasus’ night vision is.”

She hadn’t thought of that, either!

“Oh, ya, ya. No problem,” the fur-clad man responded. “Ve only go little ways. Besides, is still full moon.”

And, sure enough, he prepared to go. She watched with a mixture of sunken heart and total failure as the man created his strange saddle, strapped in, rode the pegasus, albeit uncomfortably, as a horse out to the main road, checked something—the wind, she realized, seeing a flag on the shed—waited, then kicked the steed into a gallop, going faster and faster down the road, and, suddenly, those great wings just spread out and the flying horse lifted, flapped a number of times, gained altitude, and then picked a direction and was off. The soldier, too, watched him go, then shut up the shed and secured it, then walked off.

Now what? she wondered to herself, looking around. The sun was very low on the horizon, the shadows long, but it had not yet set, and she would have close to an hour of darkness before moonrise. Some cover, yes, but there were a lot of people—and others—around. Where to go?

Even if she could evade these soldiers and make the front gate, it would matter little. It wasn’t so much the distance, as taking total pot luck on what she’d become. A horse wouldn’t do—it would be considered a stray or runaway and kept there, maybe tied up. She had thought soldier or Bentar, but now she remembered Sugasto’s spell. The were curse usually didn’t affect spells, which was why the ring remained. Sugasto had said that she not only didn’t need to wear clothes, she couldn’t. A naked soldier of whatever race, particularly with a ring in his nose, wouldn’t be much of an improvement over now.

It had seemed so simple a few hours earlier. A lot had somehow seemed so simple a few hours earlier.

What around here could she become that would both allow her to escape this place and also be of some use? She had to find it fast, if it was here at all. The sun was setting, and the moon would surely follow. Not even a Sugasto could change that.

Joe and Marge both knew they’d have to allow some time after moonrise for Mia to make her escape, if, in fact, she had been successful.

Joe, once more a Kauri, waited with Marge for something, anything to appear.

“If she pulled it off, great,” Joe said worriedly. “But, right now, I’d just settle for her getting back here as anything.” He went over and stared out the window into the darkness.

Suddenly this huge face descended as if on a lift until it covered the entire window. Leathery nostrils flared, and two mean black eyes peered out from a skull that seemed made of molten rock.

Having no place to flee, Joe stepped back suddenly and did what he probably would have done even as Joe. He screamed.

Marge, literally on the back wall of the room, got hold of herself and looked at the monstrous face of the nazga.

“Hold it, Joe!” she shouted. “That damned thing’s got a tiny little ring between the nostrils!”