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Authors: Kim Hunter

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #Epic, #General, #Historical

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BOOK: Scabbard's Song
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is a kind, generous and gentle lady. Well, yes, she is, but shes a lot of other things beside. You know she tried to kill me several times. But that was when she was a lunatic, influenced by the moon. Influenced by something, that much is sure. She can have a foul temper on her, when things do not go right. I have the bruises to prove it. Now, dont get your hopes too high! She may have other plans. What if we arrive home and she already has a son picked out for us? Then I shall call him brother. The boy seemed to have an answer for everything. Soldier left it at that. He had to admit he felt good about himself. Imparting happiness had that affect. It filled one with well-being. There was something of vanity in the act of giving too, which did not escape Soldiers attention. But if one could not indulge oneself from time to time, one would be a saint, sure. Now there were two happy people, walking the same path upwards, towards a grotto of a kind. Soldier recognised the type and knew they were nearing their journeys end. He indicated the mound with the earth entrance at each end as they approached it. Sitting in a glade some distance from the grassy mound was the white dragon, the mighty Icewings. She looked composed. Her wings were folded so she cast only a long, lean shadow, from head to long-whip tail. Nevertheless this shadow was as formidable as the silhouette of a raiders long-ship and was filled with virgin snow. A green chapel, boy. You see it? Yes, I see it. The dragon, also. Ignore the presence of the dragon for the moment. She is either the guardian of the green chapel or is there to indicate which end we should take. If she is a guardian we can certainly fool her when we enter, though of course shell be there when we come out. There will be other guardians to pass. A green knight, possibly, or a dog with three heads. One can never tell. What is certain is that we shall enter the chapel. I see, Father. This time he did not correct the boy. First we must discover which is the right end to use. Often one entrance leads to a ghastly Otherworld, while the other goes to such places as the treasure halls of mountain kings. We do not want to spend eternity battling with monsters in a world of ice and snow. We need to discover the trove where the jade mantis, the silver shell and a golden egg are to be found. Silver shell? Golden egg? Ah yes, I forgot, you were not really there, were you? It was all a dream. Those three items are on our list, Musket. We must leave here with all of them, or not leave at all. They will help cure the queen. My mother. Soldier ground his teeth. Not yet, my boy. We must have her agreement to the arrangement before you can say you have come from pauper to prince in one giant leap. Be patient, and try to curb that tongue. I came from humble beginnings . . . The humblest! Yes, and . . . You couldnt have been more humble. All right, all right, but now I discover I have noble blood in my veins, from my last world, so perhaps it was preordained that I become what I am in this world. Who knows what I was, before I became a raven? said the boy, wistfully. A scruffy little hobbledehoy, snapped Soldier emphatically. Yes, but before that? Who knows what kind of baby I was? No one. I could have been a prince put in a reed boat and sent down the river. Or the wetnurse could have changed her own baby for me. Or perhaps I had a twin brother who paid a woodcutter to take me into the forest and lose me. Anythings possible. Look at you. You thought you were just a common thief turned hand-sellers assistant, didnt you? Now you find youre this Sir Valechor, lord of somewhere or other. Were wasting time with this idle chatter, growled Soldier. We must decide which entrance of the green chapel to take. Musket frowned. We must take the right one, of course. That much is obvious. But which is the right one? Why, said the boy, the one with the rabbit shit, of course. Soldier stopped and blinked. He stared at Musket with narrowed eyes. Explain. Well, rabbits wont use the hole to hell, will they? Theyre not silly. They can smell fire and brimstone coming from the wrong entrance and theyll stay clear of that one. To be quite sure we should also look for ducks feathers. Ducks and rabbits often use the same holes. You stick with me, Father, and Ill lead you to the promised treasure trove. Soldier stuck out his jaw. Why would rabbits and ducks use the entrance to a green chapel at all? Musket sighed, as if dealing with a half-wit. Why? Because rabbits like to dig into the sides of banks of soil, rather than go straight down. Its a matter of gently sloping angles and getting rid of the debris, isnt it? Havent you noticed how rabbit warrens are almost always on hillocks and tumps? The other reason they like mounds is because the soil is soft and easy to move, and they will always go inside a larger hole and start from there, because the larger cavern keeps the entrance to the small burrow dry. Wild ducks just use empty rabbit holes for shelter at night and as protection from the foxes while they sleep. I suppose you learned all this as a raven? I never learned it anywhere, its just so obvious to anyone. That remark did not endear the boy to Soldier at all. He tethered Thunder to a tree inside a wooded area, where he hoped the white dragon would not be able to penetrate. The next thing was to discover if Icewings was a guardian or not. It would seem unreasonable of her to act as a guide to the green chapel and then prevent those she had led there from entering, but Soldier took nothing for granted. He kept a wary eye on her as he approached one end of the green chapel. She made no move towards him, made no threatening gestures, and seemed actually to lack any menace whatsoever. Soldier inspected the open end of the chapel, which had a hole as large as a cottage doorway in the shape of a pointed arch. The portal was actually made of moss-covered roughly hewn stone. No rabbits dung this end, he said to Musket. Nor feathers. Then its the other end. They walked the length of the mound, which had much the same features as a long barrow or tumulus. It was turf-covered, with one or two rocks jutting from its roof. There were curious burn marks in the grass on the sides of the mound. Soldier guessed these had been made by the smaller fire-breathing dragons. Soldier was half hoping there would be no sign of rabbits at the far end, but he was to be disappointed. Rabbit stools were everywhere scattered like dried blackcurrants in the opening. Here and there, a wispy feather. Musket smiled and nodded at his new father. His new father grudgingly acknowledged a superior brain. One more glance at Icewings told them she was not going to impede their entry to the green chapel. They threw her a cheery wave and went into the darkness of the interior. Soldier said, Musket, now listen to me I have no experience of entering green chapels, but I have met knights who have done so. They tell me that there are things, spirit creatures and earth-lore beings, who will try to accost any intruders. So long as they are ignored we should be safe. Do not acknowledge them. Have no conversation with them. Refuse to be drawn, no matter what they may say or do. Understood? Yes, Father. Good. Once past the initial blackness of the entrance, they found their passage along an earth tunnel lit by torches. Wights and wraiths came as flimsy spectres from the walls and attempted to impede them. Imps dropped in their hair like spiders from hidden cobwebs, tweaking the roots, jumping off again when ignored. Duppies tried to spook them by wailing into their faces and gumming their eyelashes. Musket, ducking and weaving to avoid these creatures, was clearly terrified. Soldier took his hand and led him onward; even when a spectre knight in shining white armour stood in their path, Soldier merely strode through him without a hint of awareness. The pair passed through several empty chambers until they came, finally, to a cavern stacked with treasures. It was a high, wide dome of rock. The walls glowed with an eerie greenish light, which was reflected by the many hundreds of precious gems, gold ornaments, crowns, jade boxes, ropes of pearls, ruby-handled daggers, jewelled swords, coral necklaces, silver brooches, tores, and many other precious if not priceless works of art and wealth. Certainly the sight took the breath away. Soldier and Musket simply stood and stared for a full ten minutes, awed by the glister and glitter of the room. It dazzled the eyes and bewildered the brain. Coins were piled in heaps like so much trash. Illuminated books were lying open, their gold-and-silver-leaf illustrations shining brilliantly. Golden bowls full of diamonds lay scattered around the floor area. Sheaves of jewelled staves stood in stacks. Trunks ornamented with mother-of-pearl and semi-precious stones stood gaping, their edges overflowing with heavy gowns inlaid with precious metals. One object in particular struck Soldiers eyes with great force: a throne fashioned from chalcedony, inlaid with tigers-eye, amethyst, lapis lazuli, cornelian, topaz and jasper. It defied all laws of taste and elegance, being over-elaborate in design and encrusted with just about every gem the earth could offer. It was the throne of a despot, a tyrant with more wealth than discernment. Look at this! cried Musket, glancing down to find he was ankle-deep in emeralds and sapphires. We could be kings of anywhere! We could be, but we are not, warned Soldier. Hard as it is, do not let this display turn your head, son. We must take only what we came for, nothing more. If we leave with a grain of gold dust that is not ours, we will suffer horribly for it. A jade mantis, a golden egg and a silver sea shell, that is what we must find, and all else must remain here. Oh, cried the boy in disappointment. Then he took a step back. Something moved, he whispered, in the shadows over there. His arm went out and Soldier saw amongst the sparkling treasures a glittering monster: a giant green lizard with scintillating red eyes. Its tongue flashed out between strong-looking jaws. Its claws were like the curved knives of hill bandits. A formidable creature indeed. It stepped out of the shadows and into the light, its throat pulsing, its tail swishing. A guardian, muttered Soldier. There had to be one, of course. There may be more. He will watch us as we search for the items we came for. Pay no heed to him. If he attacks, then we can defend ourselves. Now, we must seek our objects . . . Soldier began to move amongst the treasures. As he did so, the great lizard darted forward. Soldier drew his sword quickly, but the monster was not attacking. It stood on a pile of coins, its tongue flickering. Soldier stared at the creature, wondering if it was poised ready to spring, but it was Musket who first realised what the great lizard was doing. See, Father! he cried. By that casket. A golden egg! Soldier stared. It was indeed a golden egg. By the gods, he thought, the guarding is helping us. It probably wants us to find the items we need, then leave as quickly as possible. We are violating its domain, polluting its home. This was fortunate indeed. It would seem politic to allow the lizard to dictate to them where they should look for their desired objects. Get the egg, boy. Musket went forward cautiously and picked up the golden egg, which was of the scale of a real wild birds egg. He weighed it in his hand, as if its heaviness was impressive. Then he looked at the object more closely. He became excited and held it up for Soldier to view. Father! he cried. I know the other part of the last riddle now. This is a copy of a cuckoos egg, for it would be in the house of a stranger, wouldnt it? A cuckoo lays her eggs in the nests of strangers, for them to hatch and rear. How clever am I, Father? Very clever? Soldier smiled at his newly adopted son. Extremely clever. The guardian of the treasure led the pair to two more objects: a beautiful jade praying mantis and a silver conch. With these items securely in Soldiers possession, the two mortals began to leave the domain of the giant lizard. However, they had not gone more than ten yards along the tunnel when the lizard came bounding after them, its jaws snapping, its tail thrashing, its tongue lashing. Soldier took one look at the fury of the beast and then turned to his son. What have you stolen? he cried. Did I not tell you? Musket reached into his pocket and withdrew a ruby the size of his own fist. It is so beautiful, sobbed the boy. I want it. I want it. The lizard bounded forward. Soldier snatched the jewel from the childs hand and tossed it towards the green guardian. The lizard caught the ruby in its jaws. It glared at the two mortals, as if daring them to take one more step. After a while it turned on its tail and re-entered the cavern, to spit the gem on to a sparkling pile in one corner, seemingly satisfied that nothing more would be violated. Foolish boy, growled the knight. We are lucky to escape with our lives. A tear-stained face peered up at him in the flickering torchlight. I wanted it. You cant have everything you want. I dont want everything, snapped the boy, angrily. I just wanted that ruby. I am gravely disappointed in you. Soldier turned away, wondering what possessed the child. He was no real father, in that he had no experience of boys of that age. Of course he remembered his own childhood, but that is seldom any use to a man, for the years between create a mellow past where everything is perfect. He would not have stolen the jewel when he was eleven or twelve. He would have followed his fathers orders. A command was a command. Surely the boy had no right to disobey him. No right at all. I dont understand you, he said, heavily. You want to be the son of a queen and her consort, yet you remain a street thief, a guttersnipe. Musket started weeping softly again. He said something in a quiet voice which made Soldier stop in his tracks. What? Speak up, boy. What was that? I said I wanted it for my new mother. I wanted to give it to Queen Layana, so she would love me. If I gave her a ruby like that, she couldnt turn me away when we go home, could she? For a moment Soldier could not speak. When he did, he laid a gentle hand on the boys shoulder and said, Musket, you cannot buy love, my boy but you can be sure I shall tell her that you risked your life to do so.

Chapter Seven

In Zamerkand Queen Layana was waiting anxiously for the return of her husband, not caring whether he brought home a cure for her forgetfulness or not, so long as he was safe and well. In the meantime, tended by her faithful servants Ofao and Drissila, Layana attempted to bring some order and stability to Zamerkand. The fact that she could not remember anything about her former life after being abducted and transported to Uan Muhuggiag meant that she had to rely on her servants to assist her in choosing people she could trust for positions of power. There were those who claimed to know her intimately and those who protested that the former queen her sister, and indeed their father before them, had promised them posts in any governing body of the land. There was nothing wrong with Drissilas memory, and the lady-in-waiting soon weeded out those whom she knew were lying. In fact, there were few the queen could trust. The brother of Kaff yet an old and trusted friend of Soldier, a warrior called Golgath was given charge of the Guthrumite army. Golgath was one of the few Guthrumite soldiers who was utterly loyal to the queen and her husband. Spagg, the trader in hands-of-glory, the severed members of hanged men, to his utter astonishment found himself appointed Keeper of the Royal Purse. He protested. Your Majesty, Spagg spluttered, you cant trust me with a single coin, let alone the purse of the whole kingdom. I trust you, Spagg, and you must trust yourself, said Layana as the court echoed with the indignant voices of those nobles and courtiers who agreed with the market trader. You might run off with a single coin in your pocket, but the wealth of Zamerkand is a little more weighty. Thus she left the treasure chests of the great city in the trembling hands of the new Keeper of the Royal Purse. Zamerkand was indeed very wealthy, or had been before Humbold had come to power. It was somewhat diminished now, due to the disruption to trade and industry which had been caused by Humbolds inept government. However, they still had the long covered waterway, the protected canal which led from the heart of the city to the Cerulean Sea. There lay Guthrum port, crammed with trading vessels, which could once again begin to set sail for the nearby continent of Gwandoland and its island, as well as other distant lands where brave ships might venture. After Spagg had been elevated, far beyond his dreams, a Lord of Thieftakers was appointed, then a new Lady of the Locks, a Lord of the Ladders, and many others. There were none of the old lords or ladies left, Humbold having executed them all when he usurped the throne. A whole new government was formed, some out of nobles and courtiers, some out of people of no former consequence. One or two went, if not from rags to riches, from obscurity to very-important-person overnight. Some were dizzied by the rise. Others, more phlegmatic, took to their new duties as if taking on an apprenticeship to a carpenter or plumber. Captain Kaff and his henchmen were not enthusiastic about the way the city was developing. Several times the one-handed captain had attempted to see the queen, always to be rejected. She remembered none of her former affection for the captain, only recalled that he had led Humbolds army against her and her husband, and was Humbolds instrument. A message demanding audience was returned with the sentence You are fortunate to be alive scribbled on the bottom. This had probably been the work of Ofao or Drissila, but Kaff knew that his days of glory were over and he either had to humble himself or leave. Outside the walls of the city were the mercenary Red Pavilions of Carthaga, a source of comfort to Layana. General Velion was in command in the absence of Soldier and she was a competent and controlled commander-in-chief. Very experienced in the ways of war, especially in Guthrum, she squashed any attacks by the Hannacks or the beast-people before they even reached the borders. She recognised when there was a threat and made pre-emptive strikes on the gathering clans of the barbarians, crushing them within their own regions and territories. Kaff argued that she was violating the rules of war by doing so, but she paid scant attention to anyone trying to tell her how to do her job. She was a seasoned leader. One morning Captain Kaff had a visitor: a vineyard worker from one of the holdings on the Guthrum border. I bring you greetings from the man who was once your friend, said the worker. He is back in Guthrum. Speak plainly, man, said Kaff. Is it Humbold? Yes. Captain Kaff was surprised the outlaw had come back. Humbold has dared to return? He is outside the law and any man may kill him without reprisal. Having fled to safety I expected him to stay there. What does he have to say to me? He says that he has met Soldier, in the Unknown Region, and that Soldier has made bitter the waters from which he drinks. He will not rest until the blue-eyed stranger has been struck down. He asks that you put aside any recent differences between you. He is willing to forgive and forget, if you will join him in his endeavour to destroy your mutual enemy. Kaff laughed, startling the live rat whose torso was screwed into the empty socket of his wrist, making it squirm. Ha! And he expects me to do it? Here? He must be mad. Does he know Ive tried to kill Soldier in a hundred ways and all have failed before now? Why should the next time be any different? I will not stoop to back-stabbing. I still have some honour left. Humbold must work his own miracles, without my help. Tell him to hire himself a murderer to do the assassination, for I will not dirty my hands. No, no, replied the man, no cloak-and-dagger, no shadow killings. Humbold has raised an army in the Unknown Region, from a land called Scintura. They are the Plethorites and the Samonites, from the cities of Ut and Ged. I have seen them for myself. The two cities were at war with one another, but have been promised great riches and spiritual rewards by Humbold and have come together to fight a common enemy. That enemy is Soldier. They sent units to scour the Unknown Region, have placed companies of soldiers on the passes out of the territory, but Humbold does not believe they will get him that way. He believes Soldier has a destiny to fulfil, that he will only be killed in battle. The man paused, clearly uncomfortable with his own speech, which was of great import and uneasy in the mouth of a lowly grape-picker. Humbold says, he continued after being given a sip of wine, that there will be a reckoning between the two contenders for the position of King Magus amongst the wizards. OmmullummO and IxonnoxI will not fight themselves, for fear that the sparks of their battle will fire the world and burn it to a cinder. They will rely on the armies of men to do their fighting. Soldier will of course battle for IxonnoxI. It is Humbolds intention to gather together a great army in support of OmmullummOs claim. He wishes you to lead that army, to be its commander-in-chief Kaff was impressed by the scale of the enterprise. Humbold had lost none of his grandeur. And already he had an army? Are these good fighting men he has at his beck and call? The warriors from Ut and Ged? Humbold says they are not barbarians, like the Hannacks and beast-people, but seasoned soldiers blooded in many battles. Civilised nations with well-trained troops and engines of war. Humbold reminds Kaff that although Soldier has defeated many armies in battle, they have always consisted of barbarian hordes. Now he and his Red Pavilions will be up against a real army Kaff found himself increasingly interested. It would of course be the last throw of the dice. If he failed this time to kill his enemy and take his queen to his own bed, then all would be lost. Kaff had had many chances, many allowances, but Soldier would brook no more. This treachery, if it could be called such, would be the last. He and Humbold, if the offer were accepted, would do better to die on the field if they could not leave it victorious. Humbold is confident? said Kaff, stroking his chin. He has a large army? I have seen them myself, sire - a multitude, well armed and with many squadrons of horse. Humbold says that with the beast-people and the Hannacks to use as irregulars, there is no army within five thousand miles which could match the one he leads now. But he needs your generalship. He is no tactician, no strategist, he admits. He is a politician. He has already pledged himself to OmmullummO and wishes you to do the same. The half-rat on Kaffs wrist squealed and wriggled. Kaff looked down at the creature and took it to be a sign, a portent that he should accept this offer from Humbold. If he did not and Humbold was victorious without him, he was a dead man anyway. Humbold had not an ounce of forgiveness in his body and would certainly execute any who had stood against him. Kaff could, of course, stand aside from the tumult, but he had never been a man to duck action. He was a doer, not a sit-and-waiter. Especially when he had the opportunity to rid himself of the upstart Soldier, a stranger who had arrived with rags on his back and had risen to become Kaffs ruler. Oh how sweet the day would be when Kaff could wipe Soldiers blood from his sword! Oh how mellow the mood on the night that Soldiers head was finally thrown to starving wolves! Lead the way to Humbold. I am his man. The grape-picker smiled nervously, jingling the coins in his pocket. There is another with Humbold who may be of assistance to you. Kaff stared. And who might that be? He calls himself Drummond and is from the same place as Soldier he is a lifelong foe of Soldier. The workers voice dropped and a certain awe came into it. He has Soldiers eyes. Blue. They are blue like his. This Drummond says he will not rest until Soldier he calls him Valechor is a feast for the worms. This Drummond says he will place himself at the forefront of the battle. He will carve a way through to Soldier himself and cut down the man who killed his clan and slaughtered his bride. The messenger licked his lips. I have seen this Drummond, and he is fierce indeed. His locks and beard are stiffened with cattle dung. He paints his face with strange designs before battle. There are things he calls tattoos, blood-pictures, carved in his arms and on his legs. He wears a bulls skull on his head for a helmet and his cloak is the hide of a bear. He sounds like a barbarian. He looks like one, but is not, being the king of a civilised army in that place from which he and Soldier come. A king indeed? And he is happy to leave his kingdom to come seeking a single foe? There is so much bad blood between him and Valechor he said he would relinquish an empire to get at his sworn enemy. Valechor massacred his clan, leaving not one relation alive. He will have no rest until he can smell the death of Valechor in his nostrils. Some say he was flung here, like Soldier, during a battle. Some say that battle was between the two men, who both lived under witches curses. But whatever the reason for their being here, Drummond will not even attempt to return to his own world until the rotting corpse of the man we call Soldier is fed to crows. I like the sound of this Drummond, murmured Kaff. He shall be the spearhead of my troops. As they left the green chapel, Soldier and Musket came across a square chamber which was piled high to the ceiling with human bones. These were they who had attempted to steal from the treasure. Whether it had been the lizard or some other guardian who had stripped the flesh from their bones was not sure. What was certain was that they had been picked clean. There were no rotting corpses, only skeletons white as ivory. There were no rats or cockroaches, nor any clothes or armour. Simply bones. Skulls were piled in one corner, rib cages in another, leg and arm bones in another, pelvis bones in the last. Spinal columns hung like curtains around the walls. Feet and hands were planted in the floor as if they were expected to grow like flowers. Shades of the old woman at the entrance to the underground lake where Soldier had found his named sword. Musket shivered. Im glad we didnt see this before we went in, Father. Youre not supposed to. The guardians do not care to deter people from stealing. They probably enjoy it when they do. Further up the tunnel they came across another room, this time stacked with weapons. There were some formidable arms in that place, but whatever the bearers skill with them, or his strength, nothing had stopped the guardian from destroying that person. Soldier was glad Musket had had the sense to return the jewel he had taken. He suspected that had his adopted son been older, more of a man, the guardian might not have been so lenient. Outside the green chapel the air was sweet and cool. Thunder was still quietly grazing on the lush green grass beneath the copse of trees. Icewings had gone, leaving a patch of snow where she had sat. Soldier wondered whether she led all of Thegs supplicants to the green chapel. Soldier made a fire while Musket was given the crossbow to hunt a rabbit. The boy came back with the game, highly excited with his success. They roasted the meat over a slow fire. While they were eating, the sound of beating wings was heard overhead. Soldier looked up. The white dragon was returning. Down the hill aways, a haggard-looking warrior was trudging along the snowy road she fashioned. The man was tall and handsome, with well-fitting armour, but he looked weary and careworn as he approached the green chapel. Dust was in his hair and on his eyebrows and lashes. More on his sandals. He dragged a sword along the ground which made a snaking mark in the dirt with its point. He smiled wanly at the two eaters. A green chapel? Have you been in? Is an onyx horse there? Soldier shrugged. There is much treasure inside. I saw no carving of a horse, I must admit. But that is not surprising, considering the amount which is piled in the cavern. Still, it could be there? Oh yes. Then I shall enter and seek to find it. Do you know which end? We took that one and were successful, said Soldier, pointing. The knight, for such he seemed, was about to enter when he suddenly hesitated on the brink. Soldier said, You dont trust me? Forgive me, sir, but I have met with many strange obstacles on my journey to this place. Theg does not wish to make this easy for me. Seven labours have I had. You just might be the eighth. Tests there have been, almost without number, including a fairy who sought to detain me on a cold hillside with her loving ways and summer wine. That is where I lost my charger and had to proceed on foot. I assure you, sir, said Soldier, holding up the three items he had come for, that these were taken from the chapel just a few minutes ago. Hes right, said Musket. We just came out. But if you dont believe us, look for the rabbits
droppings. They wouldnt go into the wrong end, now would they, being able to smell brimstone easy as pie. The knight stared around the entrance. No, boy, you are right - there are signs of rabbits at this end, which gives your advice credence. I thank you both. Before the warrior finally went in, Soldier said, You know only to take that which you have come for? Of course, I need nothing else, friend. Good. I just thought to warn you. They continued with their meal. Icewings, that fabulous beast of the skies, flew off again. It seemed there was considerable traffic in human visitors and she was a busy dragon. Some time later the warrior came out of the green chapel. To the astonishment of the two diners they saw he was labouring with a huge load: dragging a life-size carving of a horse. It must have taken immense strength to get the statue out of the treasure room and along the tunnels. They went to help him with it the last few yards, setting the beautiful carving on its feet near the trees. It was indeed a wondrous work of art, with attractive patterns flowing through the onyx. The contours the muscles, the marvellous hoofs, the mane and tail had been carved and polished by a genius. The eyes were a glistening brown. The mouth, the nose were noble. The ears were pricked and shapely. A blood horse, a racer with fine lines, must have been the model for this statue. I thought you meant a small carving, like the one we have of the praying mantis, said Soldier. No, no. I meant this one, said the knight. Isnt she a beauty? He stroked her smooth rump as if she were a real horse. I have dreamed of owning this, possessing this though I mean to exchange it for something someone better. She has haunted my dreams since I was twelve. Now Theg has granted my prayer and allowed me the quest to her stable. I shall die happy. A man may live for ever and not own such a treasure. Yet yet, he looked wistful and yearning, I shall give her up. Yes, that is my intention, it is true. After all, this is but cold stone and my heart yearns for the warmth of love to touch it, to enter it and possess me. For what use are things if one has to live without love? I do intend to give her up, that is certain. But his tone indicated he was anything but certain. Soldier could see the pride of ownership in his eye. When Musket went to stroke the neck the knight started, as if to intervene and prevent the boy. He was jealous of anyone else touching the statue, that much was sure. May I ask who or what she is for? It was Musket who had spoken, otherwise the knight might not have answered. However, he did so with surprising frankness. I am charged with taking this to the Sultan of Kurkush, where I intend to ask for his daughters hand in marriage. The sultan loves his toys and I love his daughter, so we should both be happy. I am to bring this prize this wonderment, this fantastical horse, he sighed, as if in longing, back to the sultanate. My lord the ruler of Kurkush set this task for all would-be suitors and I am the only one who has not failed. I have to return to Kurkush, of course, but that should be easy now that I have my prize. Toy? repeated Soldier. You mean ornament, of course. No, I mean toy. Watch. With his face suffused with the light of joy, the knight swung himself up into the stone saddle. Immediately the horse came to life, kicking out with its hind legs, prancing a little, tossing its mane. The knight walked it round, for the other two to admire its form, then spurred it forth. The charger swept away, gracefully, down the hill, bearing the good knight on its back. At the bottom of the slope it reached such a speed as to enable it to take to the air. There it galloped, climbing high up into the blueness above, the knight waving to the pair below. They watched it go higher and higher, up into the clouds, the knight looking pale and woebegone now that he was ascending to the heavens on his onyx charger. The sun shone brilliantly on the stones yellowy-white and brown patterns, until it was finally a speck, like some soaring hawk, and they lost sight of it. Wow! cried Musket. Why didnt we come and get a horse like that, instead of a silly egg, insect and seashell? We could hop home on the back of the mantis. Musket made a face. But, said Soldier, an idle thought entering his mind, you could have a good idea there, Musket. Now, put down the golden egg. Do you want to become like that fellow and fall in love with the object instead of the subject? Soldier mused. Did you see his eyes? Avarice was there, as green as that jade mantis and growing fiercer by the second. Ill wager you the sultans hand never touches that horse. The princess will be palely loitering, lingering by her window, many an hour, a day, a month, waiting for that knight to return and claim her hand. Hes off to his own place, to covet his treasure, which Theg will soon take back once she sees his intentions are not pure, his love has turned to greed, his hands are sticky. Mark my words, young Musket, gold is only gold. A ladys love is priceless. Huh! Musket snorted. So you say. They struck camp. Soldier then told his newly adopted son what he was about to do. You are going to get an earlier wish. Im going to call on the birds of the air to make a magic flying carpet for us. In this way we do not have to repeat the dangers of the return journey. You and I will travel swiftly and surely over the mountains, valleys, rivers, lakes, forests and swamps, back to Zamerkand. No more chasms or dark dreams for us! No more drot fairies biting through our socks! We are homeward bound on a raft of feathers. Yes, yes! cried the boy, putting the golden egg into Soldiers satchel. Here we go, through the azure skies, keeping company with clouds. Soldier called on the birds of the air. They flocked to his cry, every manner of feathered creature with wings. When they heard the task, the smaller birds the robins, tits, finches, blackbirds, thrushes and their kind begged to be excused. The large birds, they said, would be more suitable for the work. And so it was the herons, swans, cormorants, eagles, falcons, cranes, storks, egrets and their kin who all gathered in one square to make a carpet. On this carpet the two humans lay, arms stretched out, legs akimbo. Thunder was set free, to graze at will in and around the green chapel, where the grass was luscious and cool, clear becks flowed nearby. Armour was left on the grassy slopes. The only weapon taken was Kutrama, sheathed in Sintra. The precious objects the two had taken from the treasure cavern were safely in the satchel around Soldiers neck. They had to travel light, due to the fact that the birds could not fit tightly together in the middle of the raft. They had to have free air space around them in order to use their wings. Thus the two humans had to spread themselves and trust to their carriers not to part, or they would fall through the middle. They rose in the air, climbing on a cool ascent to a height which would carry them over mountain peaks. It was a frightening experience for Soldier and Musket, for their feathered carpet seemed flimsy and fragile beneath them. Yet they distracted themselves with the wonder of the patchwork beneath them. Over green and brown landscape, over blue waters, they flew. The wind lifted their hair and caressed their bodies. The sun warmed their backs. Under and around the pair the wings creaked and swished, the strong swans with slow, deliberate strokes, the falcons quick but powerful in their means. Look, Musket! cried Soldier breathlessly, as they crossed the chasm at a dizzying height. I can see the centre of the world down there. I think Im going to be sick, was the reply. They crossed alps with snowy heads and descended lower when these dropped down to the brown plains. It was a fascinating experience, even for the troubled Musket, whose human form had lost its zest for the flying he used to do as a raven. He would remember this journey for the rest of his life and fib a little in the retelling, saying how glorious it all was and how he felt nothing but a great rush of joy coursing through him to be once again swooping and soaring through the blue. When he was not looking down, the boy stared at the beady eyes of the birds whose faces were closest to his own. He gulped at the hooked beak of the eagle which kept turning its head to gleam wickedly just inches from his nose. Still, the boy knew that this was a unique time. His feathers were gone, but he flew again. Never again would he travel through the air, unless shot from a siege catapult, or thrown from battlements. When they flew over the large valley which contained the twin cities of Ut and Ged, Soldier was amazed to see it was empty of fighting forces. There were only farmers working out in the countryside rice paddies and a very few people in the streets of the cities. There were no armies down there, battling back and forth. Had the sieges ended? Had the two martial cities of Ut and Ged finally come together and declared a peace? Soldier hoped so. Yet it seemed eerily deserted, as if the armies had been snatched up by some force and planted elsewhere in the universe. Had some whirlwind passed through and taken them with it? Or some supernatural power? It was indeed puzzling and Soldier had a bad feeling about it. Once they had crossed over the marshes which separated the known world from the previously Unknown Region, there was danger. The barbarians of Falyum and Da-tichett, separated from Guthrum by the Kermer Pass and Mount Kkamaramm, were hunters as well as raiders. They lived on the game they could track down. Thus a huge flock of large birds attracted the attention of archers, who fired arrows up at the passing raft of swans, herons, storks and others. The hunters were amazed, of course, to see such a sight, but this didnt stop their mouths from watering or their bow fingers from twitching. Happily, the raft was too high for the arrows, which fell back down and endangered companions of the archers who had fired them. Eventually they were over Guthrum itself and Zamerkand came into view. Soldier was looking down at familiar sights from an unusual angle; Musket, however, had seen it all before from this viewpoint. This did not prevent him from becoming excited. He pointed things out, saying, Look, theres the canal and See how the Green Tower sparkles in the sun from up here. The carpet of birds dropped them some miles from the city, fearing more archers, this time crossbowmen with bolts. Soldier and Musket thanked their feathered friends for the ride and set out to complete the journey on foot. They arrived amongst the Red Pavilions at sunset, weary but pleased with themselves. On being informed of their approach by sentries, Velion came out to meet them. She and Soldier gripped one anothers arms in greeting and salute. Please send a messenger to the queen and tell her that I have returned safely and will join her as soon as I am able. Velion left to see this was done and returned a few moments later. How have things been in my absence? asked Soldier. Quiet here, but there have been developments elsewhere. I shall bring you up to date soon, but you look as if you need to rest first. All right, so long as they are distant problems. Serious, but yes, distant. General Velion turned her attention to the boy at Soldiers side. And who is this tadpole? she said, smiling at him. I am Soldiers son, said the tadpole. Tell her, Soldier. Soldier sighed. He is correct. Velions eyebrows rose more than a fraction. My, my, General, you have been busy up-country, havent you? How long have you been gone? A decade, I assume, since this stripling is at least ten summers old. And what is the queen to say of this slide from the virtues of matrimony? Soldier smiled grimly. Yes, very funny, General but you are in for another piece of startling news. Remember my talking raven? Velion groaned. How could I forget that blight on the bird world. Is it finally dead? I for one would not be sorry, for its chatter used to drive me to distraction. Now that it has gone, I have to be truthful. I came within a centimetre of strangling the creature myself several times. This is he, said Soldier, placing a hand on the boys head. His name is now Musket and he is my adopted son. Velion went quiet for a few moments and then stated, As for myself, there were times when I quite liked the company of that bird. Too late, said Musket grimly. You have offended me. Oh dear. I am desolate. Musket folded his arms and turned away from the amused generals, as they regarded him with twitching mouths. The pair remained in the Red Pavilions encampment, outside the city walls, until they had washed and changed their clothes. Musket was handed a cut-down robe which Soldier had been given by the senate in Carthaga: a prize taken from a defeated sultan. It was of black silk, a colour the boy was still very much attached to, even though he was no longer a raven. There was a red edge to the robe which gave it a little flare and Musket paraded himself in front of Soldier and Velion, accepting their compliments with easy grace. Is it possible to make a prince of this wart? said Velion. He seems almost human now weve removed most of the grime. Of course that snub nose reveals his peasant origins, and those ghastly freckles, but we might be able to disguise these defects with the skilful use of kohl. Once we teach him not to spit or pick his nose we might have something we can parade in public without inviting the disgust of the general population. Musket glowered at Velion, who simply laughed. Later Soldier and Musket wove their way between the watchfires of the sentries and entered the gates of the city. A guard tried to block their entrance, not recognising his rulers husband. Soldier commended the fellow on his competence, but informed him of who he was. A sergeant-at-arms was called and this man, appointed by Golgath, the new commander of the Imperial Guard, recognised Soldier immediately. He began reprimanding the sentry, but Soldier said the man was to be praised for his attention to duty. Once inside Zamerkands walls, Soldier could see these city streets were thriving once again. There were people trading under lamplight, with market stalls everywhere. Soldier looked for Spaggs hand-of-glory stall, which normally stood on the corner of the market square. It was gone, which perturbed him, for Spagg never shut up shop. The pair walked on, through the hubbub and the thronging shoppers, exiting on the far side of the market. There Soldier almost bumped into his former employer and erstwhile travelling companion. Spagg, not recognising Soldier in the shadows, gave the fellow a haughty look and ordered him and the urchin to step out of the way of an official of the queen, or suffer the consequences. Soldier did so without comment. The ex-trader flowed past, nose in the air. Spagg was

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