Allan Cole - Wolves of the Gods

"But he was just a boy," Foron wailed, the wail giving away the fact that Safar's logic had already smashed his own. "There's nothing for him to be ashamed of. We never harmed him."

"Neither did Tio," Khadji growled, "and look what happened to him!"

Cold dread filled the room and the men shivered at the memory of Tio's ravaged corpse.

Safar said, "There only one course. And that's to flee!"

"But where should we flee to, my son?" Safar's father asked, anguished.

Safar bowed his head. "There is a place I know," he said. "A place where we may all be safe. For awhile, at least."

Masura snorted again. "Bah! Why are we wasting our time with this? Read the child Palimak off the village rolls! Banish him! None of you but I had the nerve to make it Safar Timura we're tossing out. But we all agree it'll have the same purpose. Boot out the boy and Safar will follow. Then life can get back to being normal. No more damn demons stalking our hills, no more wolves killing our children, no more anything but sow our crops, tend our goats and face each season with as much cheer as the gods will allow. This is how we've always done things. I see no reason to change. And I sure as hells am not going to listen to foolish talk about leaving the place of my fathers."

A long silence followed this outburst. However, as embarrassed as everyone was by Masura's rude behavior, Safar could sense that most of the men agreed.

Before anyone could speak there came a familiar sound-caravan bells! Everyone stirred. Could this be?

It had been ages since a caravan had visited Kyrania.

A boy burst through the door, shouting, "Caravan! Caravan!"

The Elders rushed outside, Safar at their heels. Doors and shutters banged open as the excited villagers rushed from their homes, blinking at the wondrous animal train rattling into the main square.

It wasn't a large caravan-there were only a few camels and llamas and perhaps six ox-drawn wagons-but it was a magnificent thing to see on such a sorry day with all the banners flying, bells jangling and animals bawling. Everyone knew it would bring news from the outside world. People laughed and shouted, thinking the news must be good, else how had the caravan made it through?

Leading the cavalcade was a huge bearded horseman who rose up in his stirrups to bellow: "Greetings, O

gentle people of Kyrania. It is I–Coralean of Caspan-who once again begs your hospitality!"

The Kyranians became even more excited, repeating the name to their neighbors as if they hadn't heard for themselves. An immense smile split Coralean's big face. He was an amazing sight; armored vest buckled about his rich merchant's robes, an immense sword dangling from his waist, his beard all bedecked with colorful ribbons.

"Coralean's heart is bursting with joy," he boomed, "that his old friends remember him with such kindness. He comes to you out of a wilderness of great trouble and sorrow. There was many a night when he didn't believe he'd live 'til dawn. And there was many a dawn when he doubted the blessed night would come again."

He thumped his mailed chest and it resounded like a ceremonial drum. "But here he is! Coralean, in the flesh! And damned be the eyes of all the devils who tried to strip it from me for their supper."

"What news?" someone shouted. Others took up the cry. "What news? What news?"

Coralean waved the questioners down. "Later, my dear people, I will tell the stirring tale of what has befallen this old dog since last we met." He shaded his eyes, searching the crowd. "But first Coralean must speak urgently with his old friend, Safar Timura. Will someone send for him, please?"

Safar stepped forward, the crowd parting to let him through. "Here I am, Lord Coralean," he said. "It's good to see you after so many years."

Safar was smiling, but he was not as overjoyed as the others. He liked Coralean, owed him much for past favors, but he knew the old merchant too well to trust him completely.

When Coralean spotted Safar he leaped off his horse and engulfed him in a mighty embrace, booming,

"Safar, my old friend! How glad I am to see you!"

He pounded Safar's back, raising dust and a cough. Then he leaned forward and whispered, "You must call the Council of Elders together immediately!

"I bring word from Iraj Protarus!"

Once again the Elders gathered in the Meeting Lodge. This time it was to learn what the future had in store for them.

"Coralean would rather the gods had ripped his tongue from its roots," the caravan master said, "than be forced to speak the words I must say to such dear friends. I am here at the orders of King Protarus, who waits with an army not two days hence. The King sends his heartfelt greetings to all his dear friends in Kyrania and begs forgiveness for the misery caused by his struggles with the traitor, Safar Timura."

"Here now, I'll not have my son spoken of like that!" Khadji protested.

Safar patted his arm, silencing him. "Coralean means nothing by it, father," he said. "Those are Iraj's words, not his." He smiled at the old merchant. "Go on, my friend."

Coralean placed a meaty hand of sincerity across his chest. "I have sons and daughters of my own, so I understand full well that my words are wounding. As everyone knows, Coralean has the softest heart of any man in Esmir. Am I not easily moved to tears by a sad tale? Do I not shower charity on every beggar from Caspan to old Walaria? Why, the list of Coralean's generous deeds for the less fortunate could fill volumes, I tell you. Volumes!"

He looked fiercely about the room as if expecting argument. None came. "Nevertheless," he said. "I would be shunning my duty to you if I softened King Protarus' words, injurious though they may be to my old friend, Khadji Timura.

"The King commanded me to say he has no ill feelings toward the people of Kyrania. In truth, he says he has great love for them and fondly recalls the days when he was a lad and lived among you. He said he means no one here any harm. And he only asks that you lay down your arms and pledge your fealty to him. If you do this, he will reward you all greatly when he visits you with his army. And he will give much gold to the families of the young people who died in Kyrania's service to help compensate them for their great loss."

"What of Safar?" Khadji demanded. "And Palimak? I assume we're supposed to hand them over to Iraj as part of this … this … whole extortion!"

Coralean looked him full in eyes, then nodded. "As you say, my friend. As you say."

There was a touch of bitterness in Safar's laugh. "You've arrived with your message at exactly the right time," he said. "It seems that my fellow Kyranians have decided to exile me. And the boy, too."

Coralean stroked his beard, examining the faces of the other men. "That explains it," he finally said.

"Explains what?" Khadji asked.

"Why no one but yourself protested when I maligned your son," he replied.

Masura broke in. "Excuse me, Lord Coralean, but do you believe King Protarus speaks the truth? Will he spare Kyrania if we do as he demands?"

More beard stroking from Coralean. Then he nodded, "That's certainly what the King promises."

"But did he speak the truth?" Masura prodded again. "Come, my lord, you must have an opinion."

"Why, I have many opinions, my friend," the wily old caravan master said. "Sometimes my opinion is this.

Sometimes it is that. All strongly held views, mind you. Coralean bows to no man when it comes to firm opinions."

Masura was exasperated. "And what is your opinion right now, please?"

Coralean grinned. "That you should seek an opinion other than mine, my good fellow. Better yet, form your own. This is the wisest advice I can give you."