John Dalmas - The Lion Returns

"Curtis," Varia said muzzily, "is anything the matter?"

"It's Tsulgax," he answered.

She sat up as if propelled by a spring. "What?"

"He is right." Tsulgax spoke Yuultal this time. "He killed my father and stealed you." He did not remove his eyes from Macurdy's, or his sword tip from Macurdy's belly. "Get from bed, woman. Clothe yourself for travel. If you disobey me, or make difficulty, I kill your lover. Pin him to bed, then kill you. You follow my orders, you live. And he live for a while."

Carefully and without speaking, she slid naked out of bed. Tsulgax gave her not a glance.

Macurdy had examined the weapon threatening him. Single-edged. But even so, held strongly in a determined hand, with the point already in his skin, there was no chance in hell he could knock it away. The angle of thrust would drive it through his guts and into his chest.

"You think I killed your father?" he asked. "How could I have done that, tied and gagged, with a rakutu sitting by me?"

"It is no difference how. You killed him. I told him in Bavaria you were danger to him. Told him again at Voitazosz. He not believed. Now it is happened."

"You thought that even in Bavaria?"

"I never trusted Nazis. If you get what you want, you kill us all. And destroy gate."

"I was no Nazi. I was their enemy. A spy. The Nazis are dead now. My people destroyed them. We had a greater sorcery than the Nazis and their allies."

Tsulgax snorted. "Farside people no sorcerers. No…" He groped for the word. "No talent." Then he spoke to Varia without looking at her. "You ready to leave, woman?"

"I'm ready to scream," she said.

"Do not. It is no good. At first sound, Lion is dead. Then you. You do what I say, I not kill you."

Macurdy spoke as if Tsulgax's exchange with Varia hadn't occurred. "You loved your father, didn't you?" he asked.

"Don't talk to me about love my father! You love yours? My father always kind to me. To Rillissa and me, but more to me. Me he keeped by him. It all right that I not have hive mind. He kind to me anyway. He tell me, Tsulgax, we be always together, you and me."

"And you think I spoiled that."

"I kill you for it. But not yet."

"What do you have in mind? A fight hand to hand? Or a duel, with sabers?"

Tsulgax snorted scornfully. "Duel too quick. I…"

There was a noise from below, hard to identify. Tsulgax frowned. His eyes flicked aside for just an instant.

Varia heard it too. "Excuse me, Tsulgax," she said. "Shall I wear boots for riding or for walking?"

There was a hard heavy thudding from the stairs, then the hall. Tsulgax frowned, and the saber tip bit deeper as his eyes jerked toward the door. Macurdy tensed, readying himself.

Abruptly two hard hooves struck the door, driving it crashing out of the frame, and Vulkan's monstrous head and neck came through, great tusks clacking. Tsulgax jumped back, eyes wide, saber raised in defense. As he did, Macurdy threw off the cover and gestured. Tsulgax screamed, throwing the saber from him. It landed on the foot of the bed, red hot, and the blanket began at once to smolder. At the same time, Macurdy rolled out of bed, into the knees of the distracted Tsulgax. The rakutu jumped back, drawing his belt knife as Macurdy scrambled to his feet. Another gesture, and the knife dropped to the floor-just as Varia, with all her strength, slammed the rakutu on the head from behind, with a heavy oak stool.

She'd always been strong; given the circumstance, her strength was tripled. Tsulgax fell. Ignoring him now, she stepped to the window and pushed it open. Then without pausing, she dragged the covers from the bed, flames flickering at one end. Wadding them roughly, she thrust them out the window, and they fell to the snowy ground. Then she poured the water pitcher onto the featherbed, which was beginning to smolder and stink.

There were excited voices in the hall. With Tsulgax down, Vulkan withdrew his bulk from the doorway and backed toward the stairwell. Wearing a nightshirt to his shanks, the innkeeper looked into the room. Guests peered in past him, their eyes on Macurdy, who was bent buck-naked over a figure on the floor. Before raising the unconscious rakutu, he removed the winter cap, exposing the ears. They were more than four inches long, covered with fine, curly red hair. The terminal three inches were free, voitulike.

Macurdy turned to the men in the doorway. "It's a rakutu," he said matter-of-factly. "Half-blood voitu. He's the son of the invader's commander, Crown Prince Kurqosz. I didn't know he was still alive. He tracked me down to kill me, for revenge."

He turned to Varia. "I'm pretty sure he's dead. His skull's caved in, and stuff's run out his nose and ears."

Varia looked ill but didn't say a thing. Macurdy dragged Tsulgax into the hallway and talked briefly with the innkeeper, who dragged the wet and stinking featherbed away, returning shortly with one in decent shape, and fresh bedding.

Bidding his host goodnight, Macurdy went back into hus room and closed the door. With three volunteers, the innkeeper lugged the corpse of Tsulgax to the woodshed. It would freeze solid by morning.

The next day, Macurdy arranged with the town magistrate for a funeral pyre for Tsulgax. He also hired the town's principal shaman to preside. When the magistrate asked why, all Macurdy could say was, he'd known the rakutu a long time, and owed it to him.

43 Love Stories

The next day at the crossroads, Vulkan said goodbye to Macurdy. ‹I discern no vectors that require my attention, and I am quite sure the voitik threat is past.› He paused. ‹I will not forget you, my friend.›

Macurdy felt very sober. "What will you do?"

‹I will retire. I am done in the world, and I have been away from home a long time.›

Macurdy nodded. For Vulkan, retirement would involve dying, leaving his body and going-wherever it was he'd go. "Will I see you again?" he asked.

Vulkan transmitted a sense of grinning. ‹Of course. Though I will not be in the guise of a great boar. And you will not be in the guise of Curtis Macurdy. But we will know each other.› His eyes were red and his tusks fearsome, but his gaze was benevolent. ‹Do not dwell on the matter. When the time comes, it will seem entirely natural and good. Meanwhile think of me as I am now. And I will remember you as you are now.›

He turned to Blue Wing, who sat atop a packhorse. ‹And you, my friend… we too shall meet.› Then he met Varia's solemn gaze. ‹As for you, Varia Macurdy, your strength is equal to your beauty. You have undergone much, survived much, and done nothing discreditable. You have my admiration as well as my love.›

Then the giant boar turned and trotted south on the crossroad, his brush of a tail skyward. As they watched, he winked out of sight. Macurdy wasn't sure whether he'd activated his cloak, or if he'd ceased to exist in Yuulith.

After a minute, he and Varia rode on westward, subdued and thoughtful. Their remounts and packhorses followed on the lead rope. Blue Wing flew ahead to scout. It was another cold day, though not cold enough that the horses were frosted with their own breath.

With the peace agreement signed, the great raven network had disassembled. But a precedent had been set, and the experience had enriched the great raven hive mind. Thus Blue Wing hadn't hesitated to relay a message for Varia, to the western emperor at Duinarog. She would, she said, appreciate a letter of credit, and gave her itinerary. Macurdy had already sent a message to Amnevi at the Cloister. He'd like payment for his services, if possible to be picked up at the Sisterhood embassy at Indervars. He'd suggested twenty gold imperials, a remarkably modest claim. He'd already informed her that he had married Varia, Lady Cyncaidh.