neetha Napew - Spellsinger

candles and the crystal candelabra overhead, as an equal with the others. For

Kesylict possessed an extraordinary reservoir of common sense, an ability most

Plated Folk lacked. It was for this that the Empress valued him so much, as a

counterweight to the blind drive of the General and the intricate machinations

of the Sorcerer.

"We've heard about your distress, Majesty," said the General tactfully. "Is it

so important that you must summon us to council now? The critical time nears.

Drill and redrill are required more than ever."

"I wish, though," responded Eejakrat in a voice that was almost a whisper

between his mandibles, "I could persuade you to wait at least another year,

General. I am not yet confident enough master over the Manifestation."

"Wait and wait," grumbled the General, skulls tinkling against his thorax.

"We've waited more than a year already. Always building, always preparing,

always strengthening our reserves. But there comes a time, good brother, much as

I respeet your learning, when even a soldier as unthinkingly devoted as those of

the Empire grows over-drilled and loses that keen edge for slaughter his officer

has worked so long and hard to instill in him. The army cannot retain itself at

fever-ready forever.

"Probably we will overwhelm the soft ones by sheer weight of numbers this time,

and will have no need of your obscure learning. You can then relax in your old

age and toy with this wonder you have conjured up. The final victory shall be

ours no matter what."

The General's voice trembled at the thought of the Great Conquest awaiting him,

a conquest that would alter forever the history of the world.

"Even so," said the Sorcerer softly, "you are glad to have both my old age and

my wonder in reserve, since in twenty thousand years we have shown ourselves

unable to defeat the soft ones, despite all our preparations and boastings."

As always, the General was ready to reply. Skrritch waved a knife-studded green

arm. The movement was slow to her, awesomely fast to her attendants. They

quieted, waited respectfully for what she might say.

"I have not called you here to discuss timing or tactics, but to listen to a

memory of a dream." She gazed at Mordeesha. "In dreams, General, it is Eejakrat

who is master. But I may want your opinion nonetheless." Obediently the General

bowed low.

"I am no jealous fool, Majesty. Now, of all times, we must put aside petty

rivalries to work for the greater glory of Cugluch. I will give my opinion if it

is asked for, and I will defer to my colleague's ancient wisdom." He nodded to

Eejakrat.

"A wise one knows his own limitations," observed a satisfied Eejakrat. "Describe

the dream, Majesty."

"I was resting in the bedchamber," she began slowly, "half asleep from the orgy

of mating and conversing with my most recent mate preparatory to his ritual

dispatching, when I felt a great unease. It was as if many hidden eyes were

spying upon me. They were alien eyes, and they burned. Hot and horribly moist

they felt. I believed they were seeing into my very insides.

"I gave a violent start, or so my attending mate later said, and struck

violently, instinctively, at the empty air. The cushions and pillows of my

boudoir are flayed like the underbellies of a dozen slaves because I struggled

so fiercely against nothingness.

"For an instant I seemed to see my tormentors. They had shape and yet no shape,

form without substance. I screamed aloud and they vanished. Awake, I flew into a

frustrated rage from which I have only just recovered." She looked anxiously at

Eejakrat.

"Sorcerer, what does this portend?"

Eejakrat located a clean place amid the royal droppings and rested on his hind

legs. The tip of his abdomen barely touched the floor. Minims, foot-long

subservitors, busied themselves cleaning his chitin.

"Your Majesty worries overmuch on nothing." He shrugged and waved a thin hand.

"It may only have been a bad hallucination. You have so much on your mind these

days that such upsets are surprising only in that you have not experienced many

before this. In the afterdaze of postcoital subsidence such imaginings are only

to be expected."

Skrritch nodded and began to clean her other eye, shooing away the distraught

minims. "Always the soft ones have managed to defeat us in battle." General

Mordeesha shifted uncomfortably.

"They are fast and strong. Most of all, they are clever. We lose not because our

troops lack strength or courage but because we lack imagination in war. Perhaps

my imagining is, after all, a good sign. Do not look so uncomfortable, General.

You are about to receive the word you have waited for for so long.

"I believe the time has come to move." Mordeesha looked excited. "Yes, General.

You may inform the rest of the staff to begin final preparations."

"Majesty," put in Eejakrat, "I would very much like another six months to study

the ramifications of the Manifestation. I do not understand it well enough yet."

"You will have some time yet, my good advisor," she told him, "because it will

take a while to get so vast an enterprise in motion. But General Mordeesha's

words concerning the morale and readiness of the troops must be acknowledged.

Without that, all your magic will do us no good."

"I will give you all the time I can, wizard," said Mordeesha. "I wish your

support." His eyes glittered in the candlelight as he rose to a walking

position. He bowed once more.

"By your leave, Majesty, I will retire now and initiate preparations. There is a

great deal to do."

"Stay a moment, General." She turned her attention to the sorcerer. "Eejakrat, I

like not rushing the wise ones among us who serve with you in this great

undertaking. We have been defeated in the past because we acted without patience

or stealth. But I feel the time is right, and Mordeesha concurs. I want you to

understand I am not favoring his advice over yours." She looked at Kesylict.

"I am neither general nor wizard, Majesty," the Minister told her, "but my

instincts say, 'act now.' It is the mood of the workers as well."

Eejakrat sighed. "Let it be so, then. As to the dream-hallucination, Majesty...

there are many masters of magic among the soft ones. We can despise them for

their bodies but not for their minds. Perhaps I am paranoid with our plans so

near fruition, but it is not inconceivable that the shapes you think were

watching you were knowledgeable ones among the soft folk. Though," he admitted,

"I know of no wizardry power strong enough to reach all the way from the

warm-lands to Cugluch and then penetrate the Veils of Confusion and Conflict I

have drawn about the Manifestation. Nevertheless, I shall try to learn more

about what occurred.

"If that happened to be true, however, it means that the sooner we act the surer

we shall be of surprise and victory." He turned to the General. "See, Mordeesha,

how my thoughts give support to your desires against my own hopes. Perhaps it is

for the best. Perhaps I grow overcautious in my old age.

"If you are ready, if the armies are ready, then I will force myself to be ready

also. To the final glory, then?"

"To the final glory," they all recited in unison.

Skrritch turned, pulled a cord. Three servitors appeared. Each carried a freshly

detached, dripping limb from some unfortunate, unseen source. These were

distributed. The four in council sucked out the contents of the arms by way of