Glen Cook - Reap The East Wind

He was in a gay mood as he surveyed the city walls.

The Day

I DON'T LIKE THIS, Bragi," Varthlokkur whispered. "I've never liked transfers." Serpents the size of anacondas were at play inside him. He borrowed a trick from the enemy and began silently chanting the Soldier's Ritual.

"What?" The King thumbed the edge of his sword. "Why not? What's wrong?"

"They scare me," Varthlokkur admitted. "There's something that lives in the transfer stream... I detected it way back when I was a student. Something huge and shadowy, that snaps up the unwary traveler." Varthlokkur scratched his forehead. His skin was wet and cool. Was he pale as well?

Bragi looked at him oddly. "How often does it happen? Can't be too often or Shinsan wouldn't use them all the time."

"Seldom," Varthlokkur admitted. "Once in ten thousand times. And I haven't heard of anyone disappearing in the last four or five years."

"Those are pretty damned good odds. Whoa! There's the signal, Ch'ien says. Ready?"

Varthlokkur nodded reluctantly. He did not want to make the transfer, but a man had to do what he had to do. He gathered himself together.

Bragi sprang at the waiting portal. The wizard heard an echo of curse and metallic clash, cut off suddenly. Then he was through and in the midst of it himself. He unleashed a spell meant to blind the defenders. The King howled.

"Damn it, I told you to keep your eyes shut!" Varthlokkur roared.

The King shouted, "The doors! Grab the doors!" They were in a great hall of some sort, rather like the ground floor of a public building.

The wizard had no time to sightsee. He applied the flat of his blade to the behinds of soldiers stumbling out of the portal. "Move it!" he shouted. "Over there. Block that hearing charm."

Wild spells ranged the eastern headquarters, caring nothing for allegiances. Priceless tapestries went up in flames. Works of art wrinkled and blackened, or sagged and began to run like wax in the sun.

Lord Ch'ien arrived and took charge of the friendly Tervola. In fifteen minutes the inner headquarters was secure. In five more Lord Ch'ien had made peace with the garrison outside. Shinsan's soldiers avoided becoming involved in the squabbles of their nobility. These men just needed assurance that the headquarters hadn't been invaded by Matayangans.

"All secure here," Varthlokkur said. Lord Ch'ien agreed.

"For now," the King said. "Better see how the other groups did. Varthlokkur, send some messengers."

The wizard grabbed one of Lord Ch'ien's assistants and quickly adjusted several portals. He chose soldiers and sent them through. They were back in seconds.

"Baron Hardle has taken his objective," Varthlokkur told the King. "But Colonel Abaca is in trouble. He dropped right into Lord Kuo's lap."

"We'd better get there before Kuo closes the portals."

"It could be too late already," Lord Ch'ien said.

"The more we talk, the worse our chances." The King charged the portal Varthlokkur had reset. The wizard followed as closely as he dared, the snakes in his gut coiling and writhing once more.

They exited into a vast cavern. The nether end was a den of chaos. Abaca was cornered, making a last stand. Varthlokkur hurled a vicious spell of corruption. A dozen eastern soldiers rotted where they stood. Then he was too busy using his sword to loose more than the occasional nuisance spell.

He was cornered, battling an equally inept swordsman, when Lord Ch'ien announced that Lord Kuo's people had decided to surrender. He dropped his guard, sighed, shook his head. His opponent, a mere Aspirator, smiled weakly. "It's over, Lord."

"Aye. Come here. You're as nicked up as I am." They supported one another as they limped over to where Lord Ch'ien and the King were assembling the prisoners.

Baron Hardle, who had led the third assault team, staggered up to the King. "By God, sire, we pulled it off."

"We sure did." Bragi glowed.

"Better get set for the counterattack," Varthlokkur said. The adrenaline was going. He was tired and his wounds were beginning to ache. He would be stiff soon. His temper was turning foul. "Lord Ch'ien, you'd better get those portals secured." Ch'ien nodded, delegated several men.

Tervola spilled from several before they finished. Spell vied with spell. Blade met blade. Blood ran. Varthlokkur ignored the encounter. Lord Ch'ien could handle it. He was more use to the wounded.

One of Lord Ch'ien's men reported, "These men are from Western Army."

The King frowned, asked, "Hsung's gang? Lord Ch'ien, wasn't Mist supposed to take care of Hsung?"

Lord Ch'ien shrugged. "The best laid plans, and all that, I suppose." And, a few minutes later, after the counterattack had waned, he added, "This doesn't look good. Lord Hsung has recaptured the other two headquarters."

Varthlokkur caught the King's eye. "Careful," he mouthed. Bragi nodded.

"Can we get back into those places?" Bragi asked.

Lord Ch'ien replied, "Not without marching. Across Matayangan ground. They've closed the portals." Then, "Too late anyway. Win or lose, the coup has run its course. We won't waste any more time on it. Matayanga would regain the initiative."

"Damn!" Bragi swore.

Varthlokkur drew him aside. "This stinks of trap. It's all too pat. Lord Hsung knew we were coming. How else could he have been ready to counter? Apparently he couldn't get word to Lord Kuo in time to make the trap work."

The King nodded thoughtfully. "I thought it had an odd smell. Think we're in trouble?"

"I think you'd better send someone to see what Mist is doing. Hardle, perhaps."

"What about you?"

"I have wounded to tend. You want to save Abaca, don't you?"

"Yeah. He's my best soldier. Soldiering-wise."

"Alert the men. Start collecting the wounded near the portals. We may want to disappear in a hurry."

Bragi nodded, went.

Hardle was not gone long. Varthlokkur joined the King when the Baron returned. He reported, "The coup was successful everywhere but where Lord Hsung intervened. Lord Kuo seems to have been killed. Nobody can find him. The Council of Tervola mean to delay taking any position till the war situations stabilize. Lord Hsung is negotiating with Mist. We've won."

"Does Lord Ch'ien know any of this yet?" Varthlokkur asked.

"I don't think so."

"What's the situation in Kavelin?"

"Crazy. Total confusion."

"Don't tell Lord Ch'ien. Bragi, we've outlived our usefulness. Let's get out of here. And don't turn your back on him till you're gone."

"I won't." The King hurried off to inform his officers.

Am I being paranoid? Varthlokkur wondered. Maybe. But there's no sense in taking chances with officers of the Dread Empire. Especially those of Lord Ch'ien's ilk.

The King began sneaking his wounded through portals reset to carry men back to Kavelin. Lord Ch'ien's people paid no attention. They had their hands full taking control of the Matayangan war.

As the wizard guided the litter cases into a heavy portal, he overheard Baron Hardle telling the King, "You're too trusting, sire. Your friend was Chatelaine of Maisak. Was. Now you're dealing with the mistress of Shinsan."

"He's right, Bragi," Varthlokkur said. "She has to live the role."

The King frowned, grumbled, "She still at her house, Baron?"

"She was when I left. Busy as a one-handed puppeteer, trying to keep hold of all the threads."

"Then her fate isn't out of our hands, is it? Varthlokkur, let's go back. Baron, you get the men home."

The wizard followed the King. He stepped up to the portal, closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, stepped. He sensed nothing as he passed through. No great hungry shadow in the distance. Three times through, and not even a hint of the thing he feared. Was it gone?