Jean Lorrah - Wulfston's odyssey

“Are you all right?” Wulfston asked as he approached her. She nodded vaguely, staring down at the man.

Her right hand held Chaiku’s face buried in her left shoulder, muffling his frightened sobs. Her eyes held an expression Wulfston could not discern, a strange mixture of fear and anger.

Suddenly Zanos and Astra were there, she kneeling over the prone form, he protectively standing over her and scanning the curious onlookers. “He’s dead, Wulfston.” she announced, looking up at him sadly.

“His neck is broken.”

“I didn’t mean to strike him so hard,” he muttered, fighting down a sick feeling. He hadn’t misgauged his powers that badly since adolescence. He looked at Chulaika. “What was he shouting?”

She blinked. “Death to the enemies of Z’Nelia.”

“Lord Wulfston, I think we should return to the ship,” Astra said as she rose. “I don’t like what I’m Reading from this crowd.”

“I agree,” Chulaika said quickly. “This man may have friends.”

Wulfston had to agree. He let Zanos lead the way out of the marketplace, hand on the hilt of his sword.

The trek back was long and silent. Only when the ship was in sight did Wulfston relax enough to ask Zanos about the Madurans he had sought in the marketplace.

“There’s a small colony of them on the island,” Zanos replied quietly. “A storm enabled them to escape the ship carrying them to the mainland slave markets. Since no ships from here travel to Madura anymore, they are cut off from their homeland. Considering what Astra and I saw of Madura under Maldek’s rule, I told them it’s just as well.”

Captain Laren and some of his crewmen were loading supplies, and the Night Queen put out to sea before nightfall. Wulfston gathered Zanos, Astra, and Huber for a private conference in the cramped quarters that were the only private accommodation available to the Lord Adept.

Astra used her powers to make sure no one was eavesdropping-particularly Chulaika.

“I’m even more suspicious of that woman now,” Wulfston said tightly. “All her answers seem to be truthful, but something tells me that what she does not say is much more important than the information she’s given us. “

“Well, ‘ Astra said doubtfully, “I don’t think she could have lied about what that man with the knife was saying. He was obviously out to kill Chaiku, Chulaika, and you.”

“Perhaps he was a hired assassin,” Huber suggested, “sent by Z’Nelia.”

“If he was,” Zanos commented, “he was a poor choice. It’s very hard to sneak up on prey when you’re drunk.”

“Besides, no one knew we would stop on Freedom Island, ” said Wulfston. “No-wait. Sukuru and his people knew we would stop there because they did.”

“Coujd Z’Nelia’s allies have captured them?” Zanos mused. “Made them reveal that we were coming?”

Huber doubted it. “Even if someone Read it from them, Sukuru and his crew are only a day or so ahead of us. We’re still four days from Africa-not enough time to put an assassin on the island.”

“Unless he was already there,” said Astra. “And what if he was a Reader himself? These people have no Code to stop them from invading people’s privacy. If that man picked up Chulaika’s thoughts and realized that she was Z’Nelia’s enemy, he could have attacked her without thinking. Maybe he was jus.t drunk enough not to realize he had no chance against us.”

Wulfston said, “If that’s so, then I’m even more worried. An ally or servant of Z’Nelia’s so far from the mainland… just how far does her power extend?”

The language lessons continued, but Wulfston found it harder to concentrate. And he did not sleep well.

On the third morning, Zanos said to him, “You’re like the fighters I used to train for the Aventine arena.

Some of them would be restless for days before an important match.”

“And how did you help them relieve their tensions?” Wulfston asked.

“Sometimes,” the Maduran said wryly, “I’d send them to Morella’s House of Pleasure.”

Wulfston gave him a look of mock annoyance. “I don’t think that applies here.”

Zanos chuckled. He knew the Lord Adept was virgin-sworn until he found the woman who would provide his heir. “Sorry. Seriously, though, you need to get your mind off what lies ahead. When they were too tense, I would often set my gladiators a new challenge, something they’d never done before.

For example, you are a powerful Adept. I might challenge you to combat, with the stipulation that you not use your powers to win.”

Wulfston looked at the powerfully muscled Maduran. As an Adept, he much overmatched Zanos, but without the use of powers- “I wouldn’t know where to begin. I’ve never even learned to use a sword.”

“I had to keep my powers secret in the Aventine Empire,” said the ex-gladiator, “so I had to learn. “

“Perhaps you should teach me swordplay,” said Wulfston. “I may well have to hide my identity in order to get close enough to rescue Lenardo. “

“No,” replied Zanos. “The sword has many forms, each with its own style of combat. I could not possibly teach you enough in a few days to do you any good. But there is something that is useful anywhere in the world: the tactics of hand-to-hand combat.”

Wulfston stared. “Wrestling? With you ?” Zanos must weigh at least a third more than he did. “Without Adept powers I’d never dare come within reach of an enemy of your size!”

The Maduran’s massive chest muscles rippled with his laughter. “I’ll show you some tricks of combat strategy and the use of strength. Like you, I’ve learned to work with nature. But Adept combat sometimes goes against that principle.”

“You mean because most Adept combat is a matter of powers and stamina. Drain your enemy’s strength before he can drain yours.”

“Exactly. Novices in the wrestling pit think the same way: wear down your opponent with brute force.

But the seasoned fighters learn to turn an opponent’s weight and strength against him. Let me demonstrate… Ho there, Telek!” he called to a tall, muscular deckhand who was watching from near the stern. “I’ve heard you’re pretty good at fighting.”

The crewman gave Zanos a lazy smile. “I’ve been in a brawl or two,” he conceded, casually moving toward the gladiator.

Wulfston did not have to be a Reader to sense the anticipation rippling through the crew and some of the other passengers. Like the Lord Adept, many of them had noticed the looks of appraisal passing between Zanos and Telek. As the two largest men aboard, strangers to each other, it would be natural for them to speculate. Zanos did it out of habit, since judging men in the gladiatorial arena had been part of his profession.

Telek’s reasons were another matter entirely. Wulfston had overheard several crewmen boast about his fighting prowess.

“I need your help to show something to Lord Wulfston,” Zanos said to him. “Just some basic fighting moves.”

Wulfston did not much care for the oily smile that Telek gave in response, but he remained silent as Astra appeared at his elbow. The Reader’s confident smile told him to trust Zanos.

In size and musculature, the two men were almost identical. Telek’s deeply bronzed skin and sun-bleached hair contrasted, though, with Zanos’ exotic coloring. The sailor stripped off his shirt, cast it aside, and stretched.

The two men faced off, each taking a basic wrestler’s stance. A ring of spectators formed around them as the fighters began circling. After several feints, they smashed together, each seeking a superior hold.

Telek found it first, twisted his huge bulk, and tossed Zanos over his right hip.