Allan COLE - Wizard of the winds

Methydia floated across the room into his embrace.

He burrowed into the warm heart of her. Found the storm and let it loose. For a long time all he knew was the sensation of their love making and the sound of her voice calling his name.

King ManaciaLion of the gods, Future Lord of Esmir, Courageous Protector of Ghazban, Perfect of Zanzair, His Merciful Majestysuffered from nightmares.

In his dreams he was pursued by naked human devils, with their scale-crawling ghoulish skins, talonless claws and thick red tongues that looked like eels grown fat from eating carrion.

He would no sooner slake his royal lust on a concubine and close his eyes to drift off to sleep, when the human hordes would come charging out, screaming blood-curdling cries and gnashing their flat, flesh-grinding teeth. The king would try to run but his limbs wouldn't obey him. He'd stand frozen as the ugly creatures surged forward, howling their hate.

Two tall humans always led the ravenous crowd. One was fair-skinned, with a golden beard and golden locks encircled by a crown. The other was dark and beardless, with long black hair that streamed behind him. The dark one had huge blue eyes that bored into his soul, ferreting out all Manacia held sacred and secret.

The dreams left him shaken and weak. For a long time he tried to ignore them, telling himself they were caused by nothing more than stress from his royal duties. His plans for invading the humanlands had him overwrought, that's all.

The planning was not going well, which added to his agitation. His generals were driving him mad with their overly cautious counsel. They wanted to gather an army so large, with supply lines so deep, that no human force could stand in their way.

At first King Manacia had nothing against this strategy. Overwhelming force was the common sense answer to any military difficulty. But what the generals considered overwhelming, the king soon learned, was always double whatever figure he proposed.

Manacia understood the careers and very lives of his generals and their staff depended on the outcome. The king made no apologies for his feelings regarding failure. He had no use for the weak or the unlucky, purging any and all who were associated with less than total victory. Yet his generals caution disappointed him. Where was their patriotism? Where was their sense of duty to king and Ghazban? You had to take a chance in this life, Manacia thought, or nothing great would ever be accomplished.

When the invasion came it was true the king intended to sorely punish any failure. But in his view the rewards he was offering for success should more than overcome his generals fears.

For some reason they hadn't. The plan was simple enough. Manacia intended to first conquer the regions north of the Gods Divide. The mountain range was a natural barrier that would allow him to work his will, then gather his strength for the final assault over the mountains. True, the ancient maps gave no hint on what route should be taken to cross the Divide. But Manacia was confidentgiven time and absolute rule over the northern humanlandsthat passage would be found. He would find Kyrania, by the gods! Or there were certain lazy, talon-dragging generals who would experience his royal wrath.

To accomplish the first part of his planthe subjugation of the northhis forces would cross the Forbidden Desert and set up a base camp just beyond the edge. Supply trains and reinforcement columns would pour into that camp, while the main force leaped forward to wipe out the humans.

It was Manacia's opinion that surprise would carry the day. Yes, he wanted a large force to mount the invasion. But it needn't be as large as his generals said, or attached to such unwieldy supply lines. No one in the humanlands had even a glimmer that their demon enemies were gathering for an assault. Manacia had made certain of this by refusing any request to send vulnerable scouting parties to investigate the humanlands. He'd already taken too great a chance by sending Sarn and didn't intend to dare the fates by repeating that error.

His generals, however, had seized on this secrecy, saying the blade cut both ways. Yes, they said, the wise course was to keep the humans in ignorance. But that meant the demons would know nothing of what transpired in the humanlands. When the king struck, he'd be cutting at the dark. There was no way of knowing who might return the blow and with what force.

The only safe thing, prudent thing, to do, his generals said, was to attack with a well-supplied army of such size that anyone who opposed them would be doomed.

Manacia's generals were a backbiting lot, always maneuvering behind the scenes to attack their brother officers, but on this issue they were united. In a rare alliance, Lord Fari and Prince Luka also joined together to back the generals.

Fari, kept from probing the humanlands with intelligence-gathering spells, had similar concerns as the military. So did the prince, who as heir to the throne was expected to lead the vanguard of the invasion.

"If I am to have the high honor of carrying your banner into glorious battle, Majesty, the prince said, I want to make certain there is no chance it is sullied or befouled in any way.

"I would fight to the death to prevent that from happening."

"Quite right, too, King Manacia said. My father expected the same from me when I was Crown Prince. And I risked my life many a time for his standard."

Prince Luka placed talon to breast and bowed low, honoring his father's youthful bravery. As he did so, he thought, You cunning old fraud. You cut your father's throat in his sleep and seized his standard. And if I only have the chance, I'll do the same to you.

"You are a constant inspiration to me, Majesty, the prince said, smoothly. And I'll need ten thousand fiends for my vanguard."

The king gave them to him.

After much discussion with his generals, he also agreed that a five hundred thousand demon army would be raisedthe largest force in the history of Esmir. Backing them with war magic would be two thousand wizards, led by Lord Fari.

The preparations were massive and seemed to move on as slowly as the Turtle Gods carried the continents across the seas.

Making the task even more difficult were countless emergencies calling for his armies attentions. Within a single month troops had to be rushed to trouble spots a half-a-dozen times.

Manacia felt as if his whole kingdom was bulging at the seams, ready to erupt.

The feeling was intensified by the nightmares. As troubled night bled into troubled night, the king began to fix on the two human devils who always led the rushthe golden haired one and his blue-eyed companion. They became very real to him and he began to wonder who they might be.

When he could bear it no longer he called on Lord Fari and his wizards for an answer. He tried to make light of the dreams, but he knew he was fooling no one and Fari would mark it down as a weakness.

Starcharts were cast, but proved useless since no chart agreed with the next. With the gods at sleep, the heavens held no answers, although the dreamcatchers were ignorant of the reason for their failure.

Bone cups were rattled, the king had his palm read scores of times. All to no avail.

Finally Lord Fari had a human slave brought forth. He was tortured so his cries would please the gods, then while he was still alivehis belly was slit so the king's wizards could read the entrails.

Manacia watched with much interest as Fari leaned over the moaning victim, sniffing at the gaping wound.

"A healthy odor, Majesty, the old wizard reported. That's a lucky sign."

He scooped up a coil of entrails with a claw.

"Mercy, have mercy, the victim groaned.