Allan Cole - Wolves of the Gods

Then they pulled apart. Safar's father seemed about to say something-lips opening, a clot of words gathering to be blurted. The moment passed and he shook his head.

"Tell the Oracle she'd better treat you right, son," he said. "Or she'll have another Timura to deal with!"

"I will, father," he said.

Safar took Palimak's hand and they turned and walked to where Leiria waited with Khysmet.

"Biner and Arlain send their apologies," she said. "They're busy rigging out the airship and loading up the gear."

"Make sure they take those packs I set aside for them," Safar said.

"They were loaded first," Leiria replied. "I watched them do it myself."

In the distance they heard Sergeant Dario curse the laziness of an errant soldier. Safar smiled.

"Sounds like you have everything else in order, too," he said.

"Dario and I are being extra hard on everyone," she laughed. "We both figure they had their fun in Happy Land. Now it's time to whip out the rest of the softness in them."

"After all these months," Safar said, "I can't think of anyone who's still soft."

"Neither can I," Leiria grinned, "but you tell that to Dario! He thinks everybody's too soft. I swear, when he dies they'll make a special rank for him in the Hells. Tormentor in chief, or something."

The two of them laughed. Palimak joined in, although a little weakly since he wasn't quite sure what they were laughing at. From what he'd seen of Dario he deserved the title, so where was the joke? There were some drawbacks to getting older and Dario, he'd decided, was definitely one of them. He shuddered when he thought of the day he'd join the older lads in training under Dario's baleful eyes and snarled insults and orders.

He snapped his fingers, saying, "I'm not worried about this Oracle at all!"

Safar and Leiria stared down at him. "What did you say?"

Palimak blushed, realizing he'd spoken aloud. He shrugged and gave the child's universal answer:

"Nothing."

Leiria gave him a hug. "No matter what happens," she said, "I want you to remember Auntie Leiria's First Rule of Soldiering-When In Doubt, Find A Big Rock To Hide Under."

More laughter, final good-byes, and Safar swung into Khysmet's saddle. He hoisted Palimak up behind him, blew Leiria a kiss and wheeled the horse to trot away.

Leiria stared after them, wondering if she'd ever see them again.

There was not a soul to be seen as Safar and Palimak rode toward the city. The fields were empty, the farm house chimneys cold.

When they came to the gates there was no one to greet them, much less challenge them, and when they entered the city it seemed more like a great mausoleum, with only ghosts to watch as they passed by shuttered windows and closed doors.

"Where is everybody, father?" Palimak asked, unconsciously whispering.

"I don't know," Safar said.

Then they heard faint music and even fainter voices lifted in song. The sound was coming from Hantilia's silver palace.

Safar nodded toward the sound. "I expect we'll have our answer soon enough."

He tapped Khysmet's reins and the horse turned toward the palace, hooves clip-clopping in eerie time with the song.

They paused at the open palace gates. Inside were hundreds upon hundreds of red-robed Caluzians-so many the Queen's grand courtyard was filled to the overflowing. Her acolytes made a great circle many beings deep and in the center was Hantilia-most regal in her Asper robes and golden crown perched above her demon's horn. She was sitting upon a glorious throne made of ivory studded with many colorful gems. It had a sweeping back rising to form the symbol of Asper-the two-headed snake, wings spread wide as if ready to strike.

Hantilia sat calmly, a beatific smile on her face, as her subjects sang:

"It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We take the sin, we take the sin,

Holy One.

On our souls, on our souls,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

No one else, no one else,

Holy One.

It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady … "

It was a haunting chant that stirred deep emotions in Safar, although at first he didn't know why it should hold any meaning for him. Then he remembered the vision in Asper's tomb where Queen Charize had reigned over a nest of blind monsters. Charize had claimed to be the protector of the master wizard's bones.

Harsh-voiced memory recalled the monster queen's song:

"We are the sisters of Asper,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We guard his tomb, we guard his tomb,

Holy One … "

Safar stared hard at Queen Hantilia, all his magical senses alert for the lie behind her subject's song. But there was none to be found.

Gripping the saddle, Palimak leaned back as far as he could to see around his father's bulk. The sweet voices of the great choir made him feel sorry for Hantilia's people. He didn't know why the chant should make him feel that way. It just did.

He listened as the chant continued its circuitous quest:

"It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

We take the sin, we take the sin,

Holy One.

On our souls, on our souls,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady.

No one else, no one else,

Holy One.

It is our fault, it is our fault,

Sweet Lady, Lady, Lady … "

Then Queen Hantilia saw them and her smile broadened. She gestured with a crystal-topped scepter and the acolytes' voices faded to a whispered, "It is our fault, it is our fault … " on and on without stop.

Hantilia gestured again and the crowd parted to make a long avenue leading to her throne. Safar noticed there were crushed flower petals strewn over the path, scenting the air with their sunny corpses. He slipped off Khysmet and hitched Palimak forward into the saddle, then he took up the reins and led horse and boy down the flower-strewn avenue to meet the Queen,

When he reached the steps leading up to the throne he stopped and bowed low, tugging at Khysmet's reins, who dipped like a veteran parade horse. Palimak surprised himself by instinctively going with the current and he made his own pretty bow from the saddle.

Hantilia applauded, saying, "My! What manners! You must have been an elegant sight at Iraj Protarus'

court, Safar Timura!"

She nodded at her whisper/singing acolytes. "I wish you had time to teach them what real manners are,"

she said. "Unfortunately, my court has always been so small and unimportant that my subjects never received much practice."

Safar made a small bow, but said nothing. It was the sort of royal statement wanting no comment.

Hantilia was merely setting him at ease and it would be the height of rudeness-an implied insult to her people-to agree.

The Queen turned to Palimak who was not used to royalty at all and was a little frightened by this imperious being. Moreover, with Khysmet between him and the ground he was nearly at eye level with Hantilia and he had shyness to add to his fears for being such an obvious target of scrutiny.

The Queen said, "You must be Palimak. I've been looking forward to this meeting for quite some time."

Her smile broadened. "For one so young," she said, "you cut quite a dashing figure on that horse."

Palimak just stared at her, blushing and feeling like a goggle-eyed, frozen-tongued babe. Her voice was warm and friendly, her manner seemed genuine. But the atmosphere had unnerved him-all those beings whisper/chanting, " … We take the sin, we take the sin,/Holy One." Except they stretched out the

"Holy One" so it was "Hoo-llyy Won-ahh." With a long hum stretching the "ahh" even more so itall sounded like a funeral.