“Answer your own question, dear Sister.”
Kadiya clasped her amulet tightly in one hand. “I have wronged both Anigel and the Folk—and I have wronged you, too. For this I am sorry, and as the Triune wills, I will do my best to make it up to all of you.”
All agitation fled from her countenance as she let the amber swing free.
“Farseer!” Jagun cried, pointing. “Look!”
Kadiya gazed down at her breast, bereft of speech. Within the gold-glowing pendant was a tiny three-petaled Flower the color of night.
Haramis lifted her cloak. Beckoning Kadiya and Jagun to stand close, she swept out the wings of white fabric to enclose them. “Two Petals of the Living Trillium are reunited,” the Archimage said. “Now it is time to seek out the third.”
She bade her talisman carry them to Derorguila, and the world around them turned to iridescent crystal.
24
The Black Voice emerged from his trance, his face gone ashen. As soon as the Archimage reappeared in Dezaras he had lost his Sight of Kadiya. But he had seen and heard enough.
He removed the Three-Headed Monster coronet cautiously from his brow, secreted it in an inner pocket of his salt-stained robe, and left his cabin. The Master would have to be informed at once about the collapse of his hopes for a war involving the Lady of the Eyes and the Oddlings of Ruwenda.
Orogastus was in the grand saloon of the Raktumian flagship, playing his new Invasion game with little Prince Tolivar on a large table at the center of the chamber. The table was mounted upon gimbals, so that it remained level even though the big galley was heeled over to take advantage of the powerful storm winds driving the fleet southward. Orogastus and Tolo appeared to be sitting upon thin air, floating neatly in place no matter what gyrations the ship made. As the Voice staggered in through the tilted door, bringing a gust of spume with him, the sorcerer read the thoughts that Black’s mind virtually shouted. He then restrained the minion from blurting out his bad news in front of the boy.
“I know what has happened,” Orogastus said, accepting the talisman that the chief of the Voices now handed to him. “It is a setback, but by no means a fatal one. Say nothing of this to our noble allies. Go and relieve the Yellow Voice in his surveillance of our port of destination, taking charge of my Three-Lobed Burning Eye. Pay very special attention to any new players who may come upon the scene—if it is indeed possible to view them. See that the Burning Eye never leaves your possession for an instant. Tell Yellow to join the Purple Voice, instructing our men in the use of the magical devices.”
“Master, I obey.” The wiry little Black Voice bowed and withdrew.
Orogastus put the talisman on the table next to the map, and Prince Tolivar stared at the silvery coronet with keen interest. “My mother never let another person touch that while she owned it. She warned us all that the talisman was bonded to her alone, and if another even laid a finger on it, he would surely die.”
“My Voices have permission from me to use the talismans in descrying and overhearing certain events taking place around the world. I do not have the time nor the inclination to spend all my time on watch.”
The boy reached out a tentative hand toward the talisman. “Would you give me such permission, Master? It would be a great honor.”
“Perhaps, someday.” Orogastus moved the coronet out of Tolo’s reach. “But not now. Do not even think of touching the talismans, lad. They are very powerful and very dangerous. Your mother, the Queen, never knew how dangerous! A half-formed wish, absentmindedly directed through a talisman, can have terrible consequences. The magic may even turn upon the talisman user if improper commands are given.”
“You—you cannot simply order it to do something magical?”
“No. The command must be delivered very precisely, in exactly the proper fashion. To do otherwise is to risk disaster. I allow my Voices only to use the talismans in simple matters, such as the Sight. They know very well not to exceed my orders.”
“They do not always follow orders,” the boy said, with studied casualness. “The Black Voice has been reading the little red book, even though you forbade anyone to open it.”
Orogastus frowned. “Indeed?”
“He takes it when you are asleep. I’ve seen him do it more than once while we’ve been on shipboard. He takes it to the cabin he and the Purple Voice share. Maybe they read it together.”
“That is very naughty of them.” The sorcerer spoke lightly. “Perhaps I shall have to put a spell on the book to protect its secrets. It is a very special book, as I have told you.”
The Prince’s face shone with virtue. “I would never read it without your permission, Master.”
“Good.” The sorcerer made a curt gesture, indicating the map spread before them. “Let us finish the game. Soon I will have to take care of other matters.”
Prince Tolivar hitched closer to the table on his invisible seat, shook the bones, and read them. He moved the red-stained ivory marker representing one of his warship fleets closer to Lakana, the large port city nearest to Derorguila on the Labornoki coast.
“I know what you are thinking,” Orogastus said with a smile. “You want to keep busy any Lakana reinforcements that might come to the aid of the beleaguered capital.”
“Yes. Lakana has fast ships. If it knew Derorguila was under siege by my warships, it would hasten to help.”
Orogastus nodded slowly. “I see. But while this move of yours would be good tactics, it would not be good strategy. Do you know the difference between those two things?”
“No, Master.”
“Tactics are the maneuvers you use to win battles. They have short-range goals. Strategy concerns long-range goals—”
“You mean, winning the war?”
“Exactly! Now, I warned you at the beginning of the Invasion game that your turncoat Laboruwendian allies are not sincere friends of your Raktumian invaders. If the pirates attack Lakana, some—or even all—of the rebels may very well change sides again, because many of them have families in Lakana.”
“But maybe they wouldn’t!” Tolo had a reckless glint in his eye.
Orogastus shook the bones and spilled them. “Let us see. I have as much control of the rebels as you … aha! Got you!”
Prompted by the throw of bones, Tolo’s entire rebel force turned away from Derorguila to defend Lakana, leaving the sorcerer’s loyalists free to repel the dismayed Prince’s divided navy. In five more moves, Tolo found his Raktumian invaders defeated. The capital city of Derorguila, which Orogastus had defended, was safe.
“Next time I’ll win!” Tolo predicted. “When it’s my turn to defend Derorguila. It’s my home, after all. I mean … it’s my home until I move to Tuzamen.”
Orogastus laughed. “And you would try much harder when you were defending your home … Yes. That is one of the unpredictable things about a war. The bravery and fighting spirit of both sides. Even an outnumbered and poorly armed force may win if its heart is greater than that of its foe.”
Tolo eyed the sorcerer shrewdly. “If you really wanted to win—more than anything—how would you do it?”
“Not an easy question to answer, lad. I’m no general. But if you simply want my opinion, I’d say that the most valuable weapon of war is surprise. If I were determined to win a real war at all costs, I would choose to do something unexpected.”
“Do you mean that you would cheat?” Tolo asked, hesitantly.
“By no means. In a real war, the rules are not as restrictive as in a game. Sometimes, there are no rules at all.” Orogastus swept the bones and the red and blue markers into a box of carved horik-ivory. The map that had been their playing board was left in place. “Now you must leave me. Go into the sterncastle lounge for a time. Read some of the books I gave you. I must attend to important business. We are nearly at the end of our voyage, and the great surprise I promised you will soon be revealed.”
“Oh, please tell me where we are going!” the Prince pleaded. ?
??No one but the navigator knows where we are—and he won’t say anything to me. Are we going to Castle Tenebrose in Tuzamen? I do hope so! I want to see all the magical things! Or are we heading back to the Windlorn Isles to punish the wicked natives and take their treasure?”
“Patience! You will find out in good time. Now be off with you.”
The boy dropped out of the air onto the canted, carpeted deck and cautiously made his way through the door leading to the smaller parlor-cabin aft, that had been turned into a temporary library and workroom for the sorcerer.
Orogastus locked the door with a snap of his fingers and sat for a time in silence. Then he placed the Three-Headed Monster talisman on his brow. “Show me the Archimage Haramis,” he whispered.
In his mind a swirling mass of light, a rainbow maelstrom, sprang into being, obliterating his sight of the ship’s saloon. As always, he exerted his willpower to the utmost, commanding the talisman to reveal the Archimage to him, reaching out to her and imploring her to meet him at last, mind to mind. But when the talisman spoke to him, it used the same discouraging formula as before:
The Archimage Haramis will not permit you to descry or bespeak her.
“Let her bespeak me, then!” The sorcerer demanded. “Tell her there is still time to prevent the terrible bloodshed that will begin on the day after tomorrow in Derorguila. She can be the instrument of peace if she will only listen to what I have to say—”
She knows what you would say and rejects any concord between you.
“Damn the woman!… She cannot read my mind! What I would propose is new! Talisman, beseech her at least to hear what I have to say. Then if she must reject me, let her do it face-to-face!”
The Archimage Haramis will not permit you to descry her, nor will she bespeak you or meet with you face-to-face until a time of her own choosing.
Orogastus groaned and cursed, tearing the talisman from his brow. The spinning colors vanished, and he saw again the gilt and painted paneling of the Raktumian flagship’s saloon. He sighed.
The Queen Regent’s portrait, which had hung above the sideboard in the place of honor in the ship’s largest chamber, had been replaced by a simple seascape. King Ledavardis did not want his unlovely features adorning public places. Orogastus frowned as he recalled how the young man had refused to cede command of his pirates to the Tuzameni warlord Zokumonus. He intended to lead his eight brigades himself during the attack on Derorguila.
The Goblin Kinglet would have to be carefully watched throughout the upcoming assault—and not only for signs of weakness or treachery. If he should die or be seriously wounded, the Raktumians would probably fly completely out of control. Between the volatile buccaneers and the slippery turncoats, this invasion was going to be touch and go. Orogastus knew he was as yet unable to command great magical prodigies with the two talismans. He could use them to defend his troops and spy out the movements of the enemy; but he was less confident of their offensive potential. He would not win this war with the Three-Headed Monster or the Three-Lobed Burning Eye.
Nevertheless, of the ultimate outcome the sorcerer had no doubt. The defenders were too greatly outnumbered to prevail—and he had the magical weaponry of the Vanished Ones on his side, while the Two Thrones had only Haramis.
Damn her! Why could he not thrust her out of his mind once and for all? His great design had no need of her. He had no need of her!…
“If she refuses to join me, then she will have to die with all the rest,” he told himself aloud.
He sat for some minutes marshaling his composure. Then he asked the coronet to show him the position of the Ruwendian forces who had gone to the relief of Var, helping to drive off Zinora and its pirate allies. That conflict was over now, and the successful warriors of Ruwenda were on their way home.
On the map before him, a scatter of glowing dots materialized along the Great Mutar River, down south in the vast Tassaleyo Forest that formed the indeterminate border between Ruwenda and Var.
Good enough. There was no possible chance that they could come to the defense of Derorguila.
He next oversaw Lord Osorkon and his rebels, and was satisfied to find them hidden in a spindly woodland some sixteen leagues west of the Labornoki capital city. Their presence was kept secret only by murdering the poor charcoal-burners who inhabited the place, together with a few luckless travelers who had chanced to pass along the byway that was the forest’s only thoroughfare. The presence of the lurking army would not remain undetected much longer, however. Even if Haramis did not discover them, it was only a matter of time before King Antar would think to question the absence of Osorkon and his provincial lords from the mobs of armed men and knights streaming in to defend Derorguila.
Ah, well. It looked as though matters were progressing as satisfactorily as possible. The Raktumians would have to be alerted to the possibility of loyalist ships coming upon their flank from Lakana, but that was easily done. Orogastus laughed out loud. Another useful piece of intelligence gleaned from innocent Tolo! The boy had also let slip some valuable details of the fortifications around the palace. Haramis would no doubt try to defend her sister with magic, but in the end Queen Anigel, Crown Prince Nikalon, and Princess Janeel would either be captured or die, and so would Kadiya if she chose to make a stand with her sister.
With the lot of them executed, Antar slain in battle, and the loathsome Lord Osorkon dealt with as he deserved (one could never let turncoats live), little Prince Tolivar would be the only living heir to Laboruwenda. It would become a docile vassal-state to Raktum … for so long as it pleased Orogastus to humor the Goblin Kinglet.
Everything was going to work out so beautifully. And it would even be legal.
Orogastus nodded with satisfaction as these thoughts and others passed through his mind. The world had never been more ripe for his domination. Boy-Kings in Raktum and Zinora, and soon in Laboruwenda as well. Senile monarchs in the Isles of Engi, and a dithering twit on the throne of Var. Imlit and Okamis were republics governed by feckless merchants, while the rich southern nation of Galanar was ruled by an aging woman whose only heirs were silly daughters. Sobrania, with its hard-nosed barbarians, would take a bit more muscle to subdue, but in time it would also fall … and the known world would finally be at his feet.
Then there would be no magic he might not accomplish! If the third talisman did not come to him at once, it would eventually. The Society of the Star would finally rule, after twelve thousand years of waiting.
The Star …
Its new members would have to be completely loyal to their Master.
Orogastus now frowned as he recalled what Tolo had said about the Black Voice’s surreptitious reading of the little red book. Although he made light of the matter to the little Prince, the sorcerer had been deeply troubled at this hint of insubordination on the part of his chief acolyte. Black, for all of his puny stature, was the most able of the Voices, the one most suited for near-immediate induction into the Society of the Star. But was his submission to the Master truly wholehearted? And what of the loyalty of the Yellow and Purple Voices?
Brooding, Orogastus came to a reluctant conclusion.
It was no longer possible for him to postpone what had to be done. Before the turmoil of the war began, he would have to determine once and for all whether the three Voices were truly faithful to him—or whether they had allowed discontent and jealousy to poison their convictions.
He put the coronet back on his head and called the acolytes to him.
The Black Voice, the Yellow Voice, and the Purple Voice came hurrying into the saloon. The wind had diminished and the great ship now rode on an even keel. Black, who had been using the Three-Lobed Burning Eye to survey Dezaras as well as Derorguila, was quick to tell his Master that the Uisgu villagers were agog at the mysterious disappearance of Kadiya and Jagun.
“Some fear that the two have been abducted by you, Master,” the Black Voice said to the sorcerer. “We know this is impossible—and the inesca
pable conclusion is that the Archimage has somehow spirited them away.”
Orogastus rose from the table and began to pace to and fro, considering this unwelcome possibility. Might Haramis have learned such an impressive trick? He knew nothing at all of what she had been up to for the past twelve years. But if she could transport people magically, why had she not rescued Antar or the children earlier? Why had she not transported Ruwendian soldiers to assist in the defense of Derorguila? Orogastus knew better than to ask his talismans for the answers to these questions. They were adamantly silent concerning every aspect of the Archimage and her affairs.
The Black Voice was continuing his report. “I saw no trace of Lady Kadiya in Derorguila. But, of course, if she is under the magical protection of the Archimage, she would be as invisible to my Sight as the White Lady herself. Master, this incident could be of the gravest import. If the Archimage can spirit people away, might she not take the Queen and the two older royal children from Derorguila during our attack? That would frustrate your scheme to have Prince Tolivar become the heir to the Two Thrones and surrender Labornok and Ruwenda to you after the deaths of the other members of the royal family.”
“I think not,” the sorcer replied, after some thought. “Even if Anigel did escape death, she would be helpless to prevent our victory. She is no warrior like her sister Kadiya. We can always give out news that she and her children have perished, and Laboruwenda would have capitulated long before the Queen could issue a denial or scrape up a new army to oppose us.”
“You are undoubtedly right, Master,” said the Purple Voice. “Not even the Archimage can turn away a force of thirteen thousand men.”
“If she could,” the sorcerer said with a smile, “she would have done so long before now. Within another hour this fleet will be in position off the coast of Labornok. Lord Osorkon’s men are already poised to strike. All that remains is the final coaching of our Tuzameni warriors, who will use the weapons of the Vanished Ones. We will proceed with the original plan to attack Derorguila on the day after tomorrow … And that brings us to my reason for summoning you, my beloved Voices.”