Timura Trilogy - The Gods Awaken Part 41

In a calm voice, Palimak said, "It's working father. One or two more might do the trick."

And then she noticed just how thin and weak the new growth was. Palimak squatted and started mixing another batch of blasting elixir, while Safar fished a second clay jar from his pack.

Their flight through the jungle had been maddeningly slow. Scores of spells had been hurled at them. But each time either Safar, Palimak or Jooli had cast counter-spells, blocking their force.

Once a troop of enormous apes had threatened them, but Sergeant Hammer and the Kyranian soldiers had quickly driven them off with a barrage of arrows, backed by curses as heated as the obscenities the apes had voiced.

But then night had fallen. Just as Biner had surmised, they'd decided to camp out until first light. Leiria had suggested that perhaps they ought to signal Biner to lift them out, but Safar had been opposed.

Gesturing at their bound captive, King Felino, he said, "Someone very powerful is supporting this fellow.

Let's call her Queen X. Although I suspect from the spoor that *queen' is a lesser t.i.tle. Maybe a minor deity. Maybe not. Time will answer that. However, it's my guess that if we involve the airs.h.i.+p before we escape this jungle we'll be giving our Queen X an opportunity to work even greater magic."

He grinned down at Felino, who was tied securely to the large litter they'd used to drag him through the jungle. He was also securely gagged with a dirty strip of rag torn from Sergeant Hamyr's breech cloth.

An indignity the good sergeant had insisted upon. The gag was to keep their prisoner from shouting orders to any of his minions who might have followed.

"Isn't that so, Felino?" Safar said. "Isn't she just waiting for us to let down our guard? And wouldn't she just love to cast her spell-net over the airs.h.i.+p?"

Felino could only grunt through the gag. m.u.f.fled as his response was, it didn't take a great deal of imagination for Jooli to recognize several filthy expressions.

"My, my," she said. "Such language from a king."

Leiria burst into earthy laughter. "I've known some kings better than I like to admit," she said. "And this fellow is nothing when it comes to royal curses."

Her jibe silenced King Felino for the remainder of the night. A silence he'd maintained when dawn broke, poking silvery beams down through the close-set trees.

The remainder of the trip to the th.o.r.n.y barrier had taken surprisingly little time. This was in the nature of journeys, Jooli thought. Slow to get there, quick to return.

Then she and Leiria and the soldiers had taken turns standing in the narrow avenue, hacking at the regenerating growth. While Safar and Palimak conferred on a magical solution.

Jooli felt left out of their endeavors. She was a witch, wasn't she? A d.a.m.ned good witch, even if she said so herself. Why wasn't she being consulted?

And then she realized there was no insult intended. It was merely a father and son attempting to make some sort of personal contact after a long period of mutual fear for the safety of the other.The other thing she noticed was that every once in a while a strange tiny creature would appear on Palimak's shoulder. Apparently none of the others could see it. And even through her own sorcerous lens the creature was quite hazy. Obviously it was some sort of magical creature.

Whatever was going on, powerful magic was being discussed and worked. Despite her empathy for a father and his son, this rankled her even more.

By the G.o.ds, she wanted to be included!

And then, as she stepped back from her latest attack on the thorn barrier to catch her breath and wipe perspiration from her brow, Palimak rose to his feet and came over to her.

Without one trace of condescension, he said, "Pardon, Aunt Jooli, but could you help us with this?"

Jooli was amazed. And honored, in an odd sort of way, that Palimak had added the honorific of "aunt" to her name. Instead of all those dreary royal terms like Your Highness, Your Ladys.h.i.+p, and so forth.

Leiria smiled at her as if she knew what was running through Jooli's mind.

h.e.l.ls, Jooli thought, I'm an aunt to this remarkable young man! What could be better than that?

And then Safar said, "I'm really sorry we've left you out of this, Jooli. The thing is, I recognized your grandmother's hand in this. Her spoor is mixed with that of the deity I call Queen X. And I was reluctant to put you in opposition to your own kin."

He grinned, blue eyes warm and friendly. "Will you forgive me?" he asked. "It wasn't Palimak's fault. He urged, but I resisted. I guess I'm just so much of a family person--being Kyranian and all--that I thought it might cause you pain."

"Nothing to forgive," Jooli said gruffly, surprised at the sudden emotion roughening her voice.

"And if you really need help, I'd be pleased to offer it. Especially if it involves my grandmother. Believe me, there's no love lost between us."

She joined them in their efforts, quickly catching the sense of the spell they were working. And also, after some concentration, she picked up the scent of Queen Clayre's magic--a too-sweet perfume underlying the acrid stench of fire.

Jooli knelt down and brushed aside leaves to make a bare patch of ground. As she talked, she made a sketch with a twig.

"My grandmother likes to use a special table for her magic," she said, drawing the table. "It looks like this ... also, the center is inlaid with golden tiles in the shape of a pentagram."

She sketched in the tiles, making the lines much deeper to give a three-dimensional effect. "Whatever or whoever this deity is that she's made her bargain with, chances are she's been summoned through those tiles."

Jooli looked up at Safar. "If we can break the contact between them--for only for a few seconds, even--we might be able to get through that barrier."

"How do we do that, Aunt Jooli?" Palimak asked.

"Grandmother is a very strong-willed woman," Jooli said. "Even when she's ill, she refuses to acknowledge it. However, there is one thing that drives her mad.""What's that?" Safar asked.

"Capsic.u.m," Jooli replied.

Safar's eyebrows shot up. "You mean, like pepper?" he asked.

"Exactly," Jooli said. "Pepper. The hotter the better. She doesn't even have to eat it. The mere presence of capsic.u.m dust gives her a horrible reaction. She swells up like a balloon, her sinuses desert her and she gets a terrible rash all over body. She's a very vain woman, you know. So the rash probably angers her more than anything."

"I don't have anything with pepper in it," Safar said. He glanced around the jungle. "Maybe we can find something here..."

"It's not necessary," Jooli broke in. She grinned. "When I was a girl and made up my first witch's kit I made sure to include powdered betel pepper in it." She grinned. "It was the best way I knew to keep my grandmother at bay."

Palimak laughed. "That's a great trick," he exclaimed. "If you can't beat them, sneeze them to death!"

Jooli fished out her kit and found a packet of betel powder--it was orange with streaks of yellow. She handed it to Palimak.

"Add this to your next batch of blasting elixir and see what happens," she said.

Still laughing, Palimak did as she suggested, mixing the betel powder into the foul mixture in his portable wizard's bowl. Then he poured it into the small clay container that Safar gave him, jammed in the cork and handed it over to Jooli.

She hesitated. "It's your trick, Aunt Jooli," he said. "You deserve the honors."

Laughing with him, Jooli accepted the elixir. She cleared everyone from her path and held the jar high.

"Take this, grandmother!" she shouted.

And she hurled the jar. This time, the sheet of flame was even higher and hotter than before. A strange giddy sensation overcame Jooli. She had the sudden flash-vision of her grandmother sneezing and was struck with a fit of girlish giggles.

Laughing like a fool, but not caring, she shouted, "Let's go!"

And she charged through the wide opening created by the explosion. The others followed, dragging Felino's litter behind them and laughing with her. Only Safar and Palimak knew what was so funny, but everyone was so relieved they'd finally broken out of that dank jungle that they laughed anyway.

Wheezing and gasping as they trundled out on the beach.

But then they heard the thunder of battle and the laughter died.

And they all looked out to sea, gasping in shock at the sudden realization.

The Nepenthe was on fire. Its deck swarming with soldiers in enemy uniforms, trying to put out the flames.

Surrounding the vessel were three other s.h.i.+ps, all engaged in battle. But it wasn't the Nepenthe they were fighting. Whatever had happened there was long over. One only had to witness the prisoners in Kyranianuniforms crowded into the bow and under enemy guard to realize that.

This battle was going on elsewhere. Huge green flaming arrows--each easily twice the size of man--were being fired into the skies. Battery, after battery of them, shooting off in steady time.

And their target was the airs.h.i.+p, hovering over the Nepenthe and fighting a losing battle. One of the arrows had struck the bow and they could see some of Biner's crew desperately trying to put out the blaze.

King Felino finally worked his gag free. And now it was his turn to laugh.

"You've lost, Safar Timura," he gloated. "Surrender while you can!"

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO.

DARK VICTORY.

Biner was doing his d.a.m.nedest to outmaneuver the enemy fleet, and to extinguish the fire raging in the bow of the airs.h.i.+p. If it spread to the engines the whole airs.h.i.+p would explode.

The ringmaster called on his deepest reserves of calm. Never mind that the show was a disaster, he and his people would continue to perform until the last fat clown provoked laughter and the curtain closed.

His orders were issued in his grand ringmaster's voice. A presentation of things to come for the audience, filled with all sorts of subtext for the performers.

"Turn left," he boomed to the wheelman. Unhurried, but crackling with authority.

"Drop the port ballast," he roared to the port crew, calmly demanding their urgent but measured action so the airs.h.i.+p could rise above the next arrow shot.

"Put some soap into that water, sir!" he bellowed to the captain of the fire-fighting team.

And the fire captain quickly, but without panic, added soap to the water barrels that fueled the hoses his men were playing over the leaping green flames. It seemed a long time, but soon thick suds shot out over the fire, quenching it.

Biner heard Khysmet trumpet from the aft section of the s.h.i.+p. The great stallion was housed in a temporary stable, waiting for his master's return. The excitement of the battle, plus his concern for Safar's absence, had worked the horse up into a fury and he was kicking at the wooden part.i.tion that held him.

To his relief, he saw Arlain running to the stable to calm the animal. Khysmet was much enamored of the dragon woman and would be sure to respond to her gentle ministrations.

He turned back to the task at hand. "Bombardiers, are you ready?" he shouted to his attack crew.

The signal came back that the sacks of magical explosives were set in their bays. The formula for the explosives had been worked out by Safar during their final flight from Esmir. Palimak had later added a trick or two of his own, guaranteed to devastate the most hardened enemy.

These explosives had been the key to the Kyranian occupation of their little piece of Syrapis. During Safar's long exile in the otherworld of Hadinland, it had been up to Palimak to lead the way against all those hostile forces.

Biner had been shocked when he'd realized that hatred seemed to be the natural state of things inSyrapis. This was an emotional environment he'd never understood. In his mind and experience, people--and even demons--were all the same. An audience was merely an audience. Most were sweet, but some were sour. And turning sour to sweet was his life's work.

He was a gentle giant in a dwarf's body. Short of stature, ma.s.sive in girth and especially in heart, he believed down to his very bones there was no audience he'd ever met whose spirit couldn't be transformed--if only for two hours--into goodness.

And so the vicious, hateful att.i.tude of the natives of Syrapis completely mystified him. Although he'd performed before thousands, possibly tens of thousands of people in his career, the Syrapians were like no others he'd ever met.

Arlain and the other circus performers felt the same and so although they were fighting for their own survival in Syrapis--as well as for that of the Kyranians--they despised this new, anti-human role they were forced to play.

Now they were being called upon to play that role once again. The Nepenthe had been overwhelmed by an enemy force. Biner had immediately recognized the uniforms of the attacking soldiers as being those of Hanadu, the kingdom ruled by Rhodes.

Biner could only guess why Rhodes had followed the Timuras to this far-off place. He supposed the king's purpose was to block Safar's mission to Hadinland. Why Rhodes should want to do this, however, was a complete puzzlement.

The only thing Biner knew for certain was that he had to stop Rhodes. At the moment the only way he could see to accomplish this was to bombard the longboats carrying the enemy troops. To bombard the Nepenthe itself would be useless, and would endanger the lives of the Kyranians still on board.

However, the huge fire arrows being launched by the three enemy s.h.i.+ps were doing a d.a.m.ned good job of keeping him from that objective.

His maneuvers were designed to carry him above their reach, yet still be close enough to a.s.sume some accuracy. To maintain his calm, he imagined the action as raising a diving platform to its maximum height, while still giving the acrobat a good chance of hitting his watery target.

He was studying a group of longboats cl.u.s.tered near the Nepenthe as a possible target when he heard Khysmet whinny his shrill cry. A moment later Arlain came rus.h.i.+ng up.

"Over there, Biner!" she cried, gesturing wildly toward the sh.o.r.e. "It'th a thignal from Thafar!"

Biner swiveled his gla.s.s in the direction she was pointing. And there, rising from the beach, he saw a green flare. Fearing some new trick to draw his attention away from the battle, he backtracked the flare's path until he came to a small group of people standing near the water's edge.

One of them was clearly Safar.

"Hard about!" he shouted to the crew. "Set a course for the beach!"

Leaving his friends to tend to the battle, Safar spent just enough time with Khysmet to let him know his master was back for good.

Then he hurried to Methydia's old stateroom, where Jooli guarded their bound captive, King Felino.

While waiting to be picked up by the airs.h.i.+p she'd hastily briefed Safar about her magical observations inthe arena.

"They seemed obsessed with the number six," she'd said.

That was good enough for Safar to make some quick deductions. Suddenly, he was quite certain of the ident.i.ty of the mysterious Queen X.

In the cabin he gave Jooli a stick of magical charcoal and directed her to draw a six-pointed star on the deck, with Felino at the center. Each star point, he also told her, should bear the likeness of one of the animal warriors they'd faced. A lion to start with, followed by a jackal, an ape, and so on.

Jooli quickly caught on to what he intended and got to work.

Meanwhile, Safar flipped through the pages of the Book of Asper for clues to the proper spell.