John Dalmas - The Lion Returns

Macurdy nodded. "That's probably what Vulkan had in mind when he took up with me. Lord knows, life was easier for him before we got together."

Jeremid grinned, the same irreverent grin Macurdy remembered, but now it was to Vulkan he spoke. "Is that right? I thought you were the boss now."

‹What Macurdy does is up to Macurdy,› Vulkan answered. ‹He makes his own decisions. My function is to support him. I inform as needed, and advise without insisting. I point things out.›

Jeremid laughed. "And on the side, gut an occasional troll." He cocked an eye. "I notice you left the bigger one for Macurdy though."

‹I attacked the one I felt I could defeat. And Macurdy is the more formidable of us. I trust you noticed.›

Teremid's expression changed. "Huh! I guess he is at that!" He turned to Macurdy. "You even call down lightning."

"Now don't say that! That's something I sure as hell didn't do."

"I leave it to Vulkan," Jeremid said, and looked at the giant boar, hulking in the dusk beside the porch. "Did he or didn't he?"

‹I believe you witnessed his fireball. Had the lightning not struck, he'd have cast another, no doubt striking the troll in the chest or head. In which case it would have gone down. It was already dying, but they die hard. They have great vitality, and fight as long as they have life.›

Jeremid laughed again. "You didn't answer my question."

‹Neither did I lie. Sometimes, however, I do not tell all I know.›

Jeremid grinned at the giant boar. "You sound smarter by the minute. Now I'll tell you two something. As a rule, I don't lie either. But when I tell the story of what happened today, I'm telling it that the Lion of Farside called down lightning from the sky to kill a troll. Obliterate a troll! And that's why I'm alive. Arnoth will back me up. He saw the fireball and experienced the lightning.

"And believe me about this: that story will spread all over Tekalos within ten days. In a month, six weeks, they'll know it in Oz, and in the Silver Mountain, and across the Big River in the Marches. By that time the trolls will be the biggest ever seen, all three of them. When it comes time to raise another army, that should help." He paused. "And if you need an experienced commander…"

Macurdy looked long at him, wondering how he deserved such friends. "Thank you, old pal," he said. "I intend to. I'd be a fool to reject your offer."

After Jeremid went to bed, Macurdy sat on the porch again and talked with Vulkan. "Seems like I don't treat you the way I ought to," he said, "but I don't know how to do any better. You do all the carrying. And when I'm lying on a feather bed, you're lying on the ground, or at best in hay. When I was with Omara, you were alone in a shed. While I eat a nice meal, you wait around to be given a sheep, or grub in the woods or a marsh, rooting up skunk cabbage or cattails. It doesn't seem right."

‹My dear friend. First of all, I am used to being physically alone. It has been my way of life. Having a human companion is a new experience for me in this incarnation. As for the rest of it… I am a bodhisattva, incarnate in the body of a very large-most would say monstrous-wild pig. In fact, in important ways I am a wild pig, and have been one for centuries. Rooting up skunk cabbage, cattail, and various other tasties, or devouring entrails, is natural for me. I enjoy them. And wild swine are well adapted to sleeping on the ground. Sleeping on hay is a luxury, one I can both enjoy and do without. I appreciate your concern, but it is misplaced, I assure you.

‹Now I suggest you go to bed. I am off to the forest. This rain should stimulate the emergence of certain mushrooms I find highly toothsome.›

15 Secrecy and Skullduggery

After three long days in the saddle from Teklapori, Omara had arrived at the Cloister well after dark. She'd slept till midmorning, then gone to her office long enough to check in with her aide. From there she went to Sarkia's apartment, on the same corridor as their offices.

Sarkia was awake, she was told, had been bathed and oiled and was having "breakfast." No doubt the usual beef broth and pureed vegetables or fruit, Omara thought. She chose to wait, rather than interrupt. Shortly the Dynast's attendant came out with a tray, two small cups, and a pair of spoons. Seeing Omara waiting, she stopped.

"There's been no apparent change in the Dynast's condition," she said.

"Good," Omara answered. There was never apparent change, on a day-to-day basis. Death was the only abrupt change that feeble body could accommodate. But looking back two or three months, one could see the deterioration.

She went into the Dynast's bedroom, which for three years had also served as office and audience chamber. "Good morning, Your Grace," Omara said, speaking loudly and clearly.

The bony, nearly bald head turned on the pillow, just enough that Sarkia could see her visitor. "Good morning, Omara." The voice, though weak, was surprisingly clear. "The embassy's courier reached me two days ago. What did Macurdy look like?"

"There can be no question now of the dominance of his ylvin inheritance, Your Grace. He is physically unchanged except for some interesting scars. Some years after you removed our post in Evansville, there was a major war-a worldwide war-on Farside. And he of course was in it, and survived."

"Hmm." The Dynast's eyes no longer saw clearly, but it was her psyche that studied Omara's aura. Her eyes merely helped focus her attention. "Where are the scars?" she asked.

Calm rational Omara blushed, and the old woman laughed softly. "I trust he remains fully functional. It would be a shame to lose him as potential breeding stock. One might hope he'd father as many litters as his uncle. On Varia if possible, or on you if she lacks the good judgement to have him again." Sarkia paused. "Or better yet on both of you."

From Sarkia that was a lot of words at once, Omara thought. "In a sense, that's what I've come to report. Macurdy planned to leave Teklapori a few hours after I did, bound for Duinarog, to see Varia. I took the liberty of telling him what you once said about Varia succeeding as Dynast here, with him beside her as her consort and deputy, and military commander. He promised to tell her."

"But he was not enthused?"

"Not enthused, but not antagonistic. He will tell her, but I doubt he will argue for it."

Then she told Sarkia about the giant boar, and summarized what Vulkan had said about a threat from across the Ocean Sea. While Omara spoke, the old Dynast lay silent, her eyes closed. Her aura, though, told Omara she was fully awake. It was a blessing she heard so well.

Not till Omara had finished did Sarkia speak again, her eyes still closed. She totally ignored what Omara had said about a great boar, and a threat from Hithmearc.

"To meet Varia," she mused. "We must ensure they decide in our favor. Did Liiset mention his sons to Macurdy? Of how, on my orders, she'd cultivated respect in them for Varia and himself?"

"I think not. He and I spent considerable time together, and I believe he would have mentioned it if she had."

The fragile old head turned slightly toward Omara again, and the lipless mouth smiled. "It is well that you have a relationship with him. It should improve us in his eyes. And I see it pleased you. I trust you pleased him as well." Omara colored again, slightly. "I see you did," Sarkia said.

"Well. Now what you must do is send their sons to Duinarog, as fast as they can get there. To meet their mother and father, and urge them to come here. That will make the difference. That will persuade them."

Sarkia no longer looked at Omara; it required too much effort. Her eyes were open, but directed toward the ceiling now, unseeingly. "They must leave early tomorrow," she said, "and travel fast. I want them there when their father arrives. Write them orders of what they're to do, not in detail, but in principle. And no one-especially Idri!-must learn of this. The mission must be concealed. Even the boys must not know, till after they have left."