Allan COLE - Wizard of the winds

Then Safar heard his friend interrupt Gubadan with a question. Tell me, master, Iraj said, do you think a man as great as Alisarrian will ever rise again?"

The priest shook his head. Impossible, he said. The gods blessed him with more qualities than is ever likely to be repeated. Gubadan shrugged. There will be other conquerors, of course. Esmir has always been a divided house and it cries out for unification under one throne. There were conquerors before Alisarrian and others will follow. But they'll always rule under his great shadow."

Safar noted Iraj seemed upset at this answer. But the youth shook it off and pressed on. May I ask you this, master? he said. Do you think any of those future conquerors will rule the demon lands as well? They were once part of Alisarrian's kingdom."

"Empire, not kingdom, lad, Gubadan corrected. But to your question… once again I must answer with a negative. Only a human such as Alisarrian could rule the demons. To begin with, besides being a mighty warrior and leader, Alisarrian was a powerful wizard. Powerful as any demon sorcerer. As you know, few humans possess magical ability."

Safar shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"And this ability tends to be weak compared to that of the demons, Gubadan continued. The greatest human wizard I know of is Lord Umurhan who heads the university in Walaria. And powerful as he is, even Umurhan would admit he'd be hard pressed in a match with a demon wizard. Humans have always used superior numbers to defend themselves against the demons. Just as the demons have used their great magic to stave off humans.

"But Alisarrian was strong enough to break that stalemate and conqueror the demons. Why he didn't slay them all is in my opinion one of his great mysteries. He could have rid all Esmir of their foul presence, but he chose not to. For what reason, no one knows. His empire might have lasted to this day if he had done otherwise. It is the one area of his character that has disappointed me."

For Gubadan to admit his hero had a flaw of any kind was a remarkable event. It so disturbed the old priest he quickly ended the diversion and to the groans of all the students, he returned to the boring lecture on the distant constellations.

A few days later Safar and Iraj were strolling by the ruins of the old fort, stopping to watch younger boys playing soldier on its last remaining wall.

Remembering the interest his friend had shown, Safar pointed to the fort, saying, Supposedly Alisarrian himself ordered this built when he came into our valley."

Iraj shook his head. I don't think so, he said. Look at how poorly it's placed. He pointed at a hill a short distance away. If an enemy took that hill the fort would be within even a poor archer's bowshot. Alisarrian would never build such a thing. He was too good a general."

Safar looked at the rising ground stretching out from the ruins with new eyes and saw how vulnerable any force gathered inside would be.

"It's more likely, Iraj continued, some fool tried to oppose Alisarrian from that fort. And was easily overwhelmed."

"There are tales that say you're right, Safar admitted. Those same tales claim he made the whole valley his fortress, with strong guard posts in the passes and hidden caves where supplies and additional weapons were stored."

Iraj looked at Safar, eyes glittering. Have you ever seen such things?"

Safar nodded, saying, Many times. While grazing my father's goats in the mountains. There's one place in particularvery high up where you can see a great distance. The boy shrugged. The grass is poor, but I like to go there and think."

"Take me! Iraj urged. I must see this for myself."

Safar was sorry he'd spoken. The place he had in mind was a private retreat where he went to nurse the wounds of youth. Many a tear had been shed there in solitude and many a dream conjured.

"Maybe later, he said. The snow is still too deep just now."

He hoped his friend would forget, but each day the sun shone warmer, the streams swelled with the melting snow and Iraj pestered Safar to take him to his secret place. Finally, the next time it was Safar's turn to watch the herds he agreed to take Iraj with him.

At first Gubadan fussed about letting his charge out of sight for the weeks the boys would be gone.

"What will Iraj's family say, Khadji, he protested to Safar's father, if something should happen to him?"

"They'll be just as angry with you if he drowns while swimming in our lake, Safar's mother broke in. Despite her first suspicionsnatural to the cloistered people of Kyraniashe'd warmed to Iraj and now even defended the orphan prince to the others.

"The mountains are as natural to Kyrania as that lake, she said. Let the boy go, Gubadan. Herding goats is not so dangerous an adventure."

"It's knowledge, not danger I'm after, Master, Iraj put in. I want to see for myself where the great Alisarrian crossed these mountains."

This argument won the day and soon the two young men set out for the high pastures. They were overly laden with supplies, thanks to Gubadan's concerns, and they had to take a llama to carry all the clothing, blankets and food stuff pressed on them. Stirred, no doubt, by romantic dreams, Iraj took along the scimitar his uncle had given him when he left home. He was also laden with a short bow, an ample supply of arrows and an ornate dagger he said his father had bequeathed to him.

Safar carried his sling, a small shot bag of clay missiles made in his father's kiln and a sturdy staffall he'd need to stave off the occasional pack of hungry wolves intent on goat flesh. He laughed when he saw Iraj struggling under the burden of so many weapons. There's only trees and rocks up there, he said. But if they should attack we'll be ready."

Iraj grinned, but his eyes were serious. You can never tell, was all he said.

The skies were sparkling when they set out, the lower ranges green with new life. Safar picked up handfuls of fallen cherry blossoms to brighten their tea when they camped that night. The boys tarried for awhile at some of the higher huts, clustered among a grove of arrow trees, exchanging gossip for almonds and fat pheasants. The people were glad to see them and it was apparent to Safar that from the way they stared at Iraj they were more interested in this strange youth than in news from below.

One of the girls walked with them for a time, eyes shimmering in admiration of Iraj's tall sturdy figure and handsome looks. She turned back when they reached the trail leading to the pasture where the goats were grazing. She called after them to stop by her home when they returned, promising her mother would feed them well.

"I think she loves you, Safar teased. If you had asked she'd have crept into the bushes with you and let you pull up her dress."

"I was tempted, Iraj admitted. It's been too long since I hip-danced with a woman."

Safar was surprised. The other village boys boasted frequently of their conquests but he knew their claims to be lies. He'd heard his sisters and mother joke about young men who were foolish enough to think any well-raised Kyranian girl would lessen her bridal price by dallying with themunless marriage was the intended result. Sometimes a caravan would be accompanied by prostitutes bound for distant pleasure halls. But their carnal interest was stirred by fat men with fatter purses, not poor, skinny-legged boys.

But when Iraj spoke Safar knew it was no empty boast.

"Are your unmarried women in the habit of bedding anyone who asks them? he asked. No offense intended. It's just that such things are frowned upon in Kyrania. The only reason that girl would have gone with you is she thinks you're rich, as does her father. And if you'd opened her legs her father would soon be talking to Gubadan about a wedding date."