Allan COLE - Wizard of the winds

Iraj grinned, remembering. I thought she'd kill me, he said. She made me get down on my hands and knees and clean the mess up. A humbling experience for a future king, that's for certain."

He turned suddenly serious, eyes taking on a far-away cast. But here I am, a king, he said, just as you predicted in Alisarrian's cave."

Safar nodded, remembering.

"And you predicted other things, greater things, Iraj went on.

"Yes, Safar said.

"Tell me, brother, Iraj went on, do you still see those things? Do you still see me as King of Kings, monarch of all Esmir?"

The answer leaped up unbiddena vision of Iraj sitting a golden throne. I do, Safar said softly.

Iraj was quiet for a moment, toying with his cup. Then suddenly he clapped his hands. Leave us! he ordered the women. I want to be alone with my friend."

Leiria scrambled out of Safar's lap and exited the room with her sister warriors. After they'd gone, Iraj remained silent for a time, thinking.

When he finally spoke, there was an edge to his voice"Why didn't you come when I sent for you? I practically begged, which is something I'm not in the habit of doing."

Safar was confused. You sent for me? When?"

"When you were in Walaria, Iraj said. I sent a letter. And a large purse of gold, as well, to pay for your expenses."

"I received neither, Safar said. And if I had, I certainly would have come. He grimaced. Things didn't go well in Walaria."

Iraj searched his face, then relaxed, satisfied Safar had spoken the truth.

"I heard something of your difficulties, he said.

"That's how you came to find me with the circus, Safar said. There are some very dangerous men in Walaria who want my head."

"You needn't concern yourself with them any longer, Iraj said. Walaria paid most dearly for troubling you."

Safar's heart trip-hammered against his chest. What do you mean? he asked.

"Walaria is no more, Iraj answered. I turned it back into a cattle station. He casually refilled his goblet with wine, then poured some into Safar's cup. It wasn't entirely for you, he said. They were fools. They defied me, like these people here in Sampitay. It was necessary to make an example of them.

"Although in Walaria's case, I took some pleasure in dispensing justice. I thought you were dead and I was avenging you."

Safar was horrified that such a thing had been done in his name.

Iraj noted the expression on his face. His face became mournful. I'm normally a soft-hearted fellow who doesn't like to cause pain, he said. It's my father's weakness in me and I have to guard against it. You have to be stern to rule. And much blood must be shed to make a kingdom."

Safar saw moisture well in Iraj's eyes and was surprised at the depth of the emotion.

"But I never knew I'd have to shed so much of it, Iraj said, voice thick.

Then he shook himself and wiped his eyes. He forced a smile on his face.

"You saw that too when we were in the cave, didn't you, Safar? he said. When you foretold my future you seemed sad for me."

"Yes, Safar saidalmost a whisper.

"But it's my fate, so there's nothing to be done about it, Iraj said. This is a terrible world we live in. And I am the only one who make it right. If only people could see into my heart and know my true intent they wouldn't resist me. I will bring peace to this land. I will bring greatness.

"I only wish so many didn't have to suffer first."

Passion burned in Iraj's eyes and for a moment Safar could see his boyhood friend staring out at him through those eyes.

"Will you help me, Safar? Iraj pleaded. I'm not sure I can do this on my own."

Safar hesitated, a thousand thoughts crowding into his mind, competing with one another to be heard. Then, in the middle of his mental chaos, there came a scratching at the door.

Iraj looked up, irritated. In! he commanded.

Two of his guardswomen entered, an old frightened man in healer's garb between them.

"What is it! Iraj barked.

"Forgive me O Gracious Majesty, the healer burbled, this poor worm of a healer trembles in Your Highness presence. He abases himself for daring to"

Iraj waved, cutting him off. Stop driveling, man, he said. What is it?"

The healer bobbed his head, saying, I've come about the woman who was placed in my care."

"Methydia! Safar cried, leaping to his feet. What's wrong with her?"

"I fear she is dying, my lord, he said to Safar, so frightened his legs were about to give way. She calls for you, my lord. You must come quickly before it is too late!"

Iraj saw the torment in Safar's face. Go to her, he said. We'll talk later."

Safar bolted away like an arrow loosed from its bow, the healer tottering behind him as fast as he could.

When he saw her lying on the camp bed, eyes closed, face pale as bleached parchment, the troupe gathered about her weeping silent tears, he thought he was too late. And she looked old, so old he almost didn't recognize her. But as he approached her eyes came open and she was once again his beautiful Methydia.

"Safar, she said, voice faint as a specter's.

He knelt by her side and took her hand, fighting back tears.

"I must look a sight, she said, voice a bit firmer. What an awful way for a woman to greet her young swain."

"You're as beautiful as ever, my love, Safar murmured. Only a little weak from your ordeal."

"You always did lie so sweetly, Safar, Methydia said. But it isn't the time for sugary words. There's no getting around itI'm dying."

Safar clutched her hand tighter. I won't let you! he cried. But as he said it he could feel her slipping away. Stay with me, Methydia! he begged. I'll send for all the healers. I'll make a spell with them, a spell so strong not even the gods themselves could thwart me."

She smiled and he felt her rally, but faint, so faint.

"Let me tell you a secret, my sweet Safar, she said. The gods aren't listening. They aren't listening now. And they haven't been listening for a long time. I know this because I'm so close to death I can see into the Otherworlds.

"And do you know what I see?"

"What? Safar asked, voice quivering.

"The gods are asleep! So deep in their slumber that not even a thousand times a thousand voices lifted at once could raise them."

Safar thought she was raving and he kissed her, murmuring, Nonsense, Methydia. It's only a fever dream you see, not the Otherworlds."

"I wish it were, Methydia said. I wish it were."

Suddenly her eyes grew wider and she struggled to sit up. Safar gently pressed her down, begging her to be still.

"Listen to me, Safar! she cried.

"I'm listening, Methydia, Safar answered.

"Only you can wake the gods, Safar, she said. Only you!"

"Certainly, my love, Safar said. I'll do it as soon as you're well again. We'll wake them together."

"I'm not mad, she said, suddenly stern and with such strength it surprised him. I'm only dying. So don't argue with a dead woman. It isn't polite. Now listen to me! Are you listening?"

"Yes, Methydia, Safar said.

"You mustn't hate Protarus for what was done to me, she said. It was an accident of war, nothing more. Promise me you won't hate him!"

"I promise, Safar said.

"Good. Now I want another promise from you."

"Anything, my love. Anything at all."

"Go with him. Go with Protarus. Help him. It's the only way!"

"Don't ask that of me, Methydia, Safar begged. Please! Too many people are suffering."

"Ease their suffering if you can, she said. But help Protarus get his throne. The throne isn't important. It's only the first step. Protarus isn't important. He's only on the road you must follow. I don't know what's at the end of that road. But you'll know what to do when you get there.

"You'll know, my sweet Safar. You'll know."