The price of victory- - Thieves World 13 (27 page)

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Authors: Robert Asprin,Lynn Abbey

Tags: #Fantasy fiction; American, #Fantastic fiction; American

BOOK: The price of victory- - Thieves World 13
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Said Melilot: "I didn't notice him enjoying it . . ."

And his little joke sent him contentedly to bed.

Waking, but with eyes still closed, Jarveena abruptly grew aware of another presence near at hand, apart from Klikitagh. She tensed, sliding her fingers beneath her pillow in search of the knife that never left her reach.

It wasn't there. Come to that, neither was the pillow!

She sat up with a jerk, eyes wide in alarm. Melilot's guest room had vanished. This was another place entirely, a long low-ceilinged stone walled hall, wherein she found herself on an oblong padded couch, Klik itagh still at her side. The air was pleasantly warm, pervaded with fra grance from dried herbs sprinkled on a brazier.

Looking down on her, clad in a many-layered cape, was a tall and rather handsome youth . . . but where a normal person's eyes would be, there burned two red betraying sparks. She exhaled with a gasp.

"Enas Yorl!" she exclaimed.

Her voice roused Klikitagh. He came together all of a piece, instantly swinging his legs to the floor—which was spread with soft pelts, sable,
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marten, and sea otter. He cast around for his sword, but there was no sign of it, or of his clothing. Perceiving in the unknown youth a captor and perhaps a rival, he shook sleep from his brain and advanced with both fists clubbed,

Or rather, tried to do so. When he set his foot down a second time, his limbs slowed, as though he were forcing his way through deep water against a fierce contrary current. With vast effort he achieved another step, but that was all; eventually he remained utterly still, balanced ab surdly on his left leg, mouth ajar in a face that had become a mask of fury and frustration.

A MERCY WORSE THAN NONE 141

Jarveena knew how he was feeling. Just so had she been trapped at her first unexpected entry into the magician's palace. Guarded by basilisks, it lay beside and beneath Prytanis Street, to the southeast of the Avenue of Temples.

Except, of course, when it was somewhere else . . .

Licking her lips, for even after all these years it awed her to be in the presence of Enas Yorl, especially naked—there was no point in adding

"and defenseless," for few there were in all of the known world who could withstand the power of such a wizard—she said, "Sometimes I
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wonder why you keep basilisks and yet enforce that spell in person. Do they not jest about the man who kept a dog and barked himself?"

"Who fold you there was no trace of basilisk in me?" replied the seeming youth in mocking tones. "Welcome back to Sanctuary, Jarveena. You were most royally entertained by Melilot the pinchpenny last night. The flavor of those roasted ducks must have been excellent!"

Even as he spoke, his face was slowly altering. His eyebrow ridges in particular were thickening. Meantime his shoulders, gradually hunched. Jarveena knew what such a rapid change betokened. •

"You've been engaged in a considerable magic," she deduced. "Were you indeed one of the shadows that played around the fat one's dining room?"

He inclined his head.

"Can you have been that eager to see me again? Did you wish to find out whether I'd added any more scars to my toll, making more work for you in fading them?"

But these gibes were a mere cover for her nervousness. Besides, Enas Yorl was paying them no heed. He was contemplating Klikitagh with a frown. After a moment he touched the man's temples gently and briefly with his forefingers.

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He said at length, "I heard his story as you recounted it last night. Now I can tell you one extremely curious fact. He does believe, with all his heart, that the curse upon him is unjust. But in my centuries of life—

brief though they be compared to his, of course—I have read, been told, found though experience, that to impose so powerful and durable a spell on an innocent victim is, if not forbidden, self-defeating. It must turn again upon the one who cast it. So say all the best authorities."

"Might there not have been exceptions in the past?" Jarveena ven tured-"Could there not have been ancient powers that since have been forgotten?"

"How can that be so, when Klikitagh has trudged from wizard to enchanter to magician for a thousand years, telling them his tale and

142 AFTERMATH

begging them to strike off the fetters of his life9 There's more to this than meets the inward eye Come' Let us start the day with food "

That was not the usual first engagement she had with the wizard. Puzzled by the change, though not especially dismayed, she ascribed it perhaps to his unwillmgness to engage in the lists of love with a third party present—though she was sure he must have rendered Klikitagh
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blind and deaf and lost to the passage of time

In her heart of hearts, though, she knew it was because he was inter ested much more by the stranger than herself

Turning away, Enas Yorl made a pass in the air and the far end of the immense hall drew obediently closer There stood a table set with bread and fruit and bowls of steaming broth, along with stoups of fragrant wine Assuming a high-backed chair, as though by afterthought he said,

"Oh—clothe my visitors "

Unseen hands wrapped Jarveena in a silken gown, even to the point of fastening its sash She glanced at Klikitagh, a robe of homespun cloth as harsh as sacking fell around his awkwardly posturing frame

"You will not let him join us9" she suggested

"He is feeling neither hunger nor thirst," replied the wizard "Besides, I may need to loose his tongue by conventional means, as Melilot essayed to do last night with scant success How can I, if he has already eaten from my table9"

"But surely . ." she began, and bit her lip

"You were going to say," came the resigned reply, "you have such confidence in my abilities, you fully expect him to be set free by nightfall
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Well, if so he will of course be dead—had that point not occurred to you9

But the outcome is by no means certain Join me' Sit down' Toast your return beneath my roof"

She obeyed, having no alternative The wizard's wine, as ever, was superb Compared to it the best of Melilot's was sharp as vinegar

The food, too, was exceptional, but she found she had little appetite, though Enas Yorl ate briskly enough. He had let slip, long ago, that magic was a tiring business, draining the practitioner of energy as much as any normal kind of plain hard work. Jarveena, however, was dis tracted by the way his face and hidden body kept on changing, as the minutes ebbed away . .

At last she could contain herself no longer She burst out, "Old friend

—if I may call you so—what drew your interest to Klikitagh9"

"Old friend9" Enas Yorl repeated, wiping lips that now were broader and flatter than before, beneath a broader, flatter nose and beetling brows "Why, there are few so kindly disposed to me as to call me friend at all—and that, of course, is by design' Nonetheless, I'll not hold your

A MERCY WORSE THAN NONE 143

choice of words against you'" He gave a harsh laugh and drained his
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goblet

"Know, then, that it was much despite my will I guard myself from sentimental ties that might bind me to this world, hoping for the day when I myself can be released by death I would not care to overlook the chance of escape because I regretted leaving anyone, or anything, be hind . " He seemed oddly reluctant in his speech, as though making a shameful confession

"Nonetheless I have developed a certain attachment to yourself There is, admittedly, an element of sensuality involved, that apart, however, I prefer to keep it on the level of—shall we say9—respectful admiration Few who have so much reason to devote their lives to seeking revenge break away from their obsession, you have done so "

"Because the taste of vengeance was not sweet," Jarveena muttered

"It turned to ashes in my mouth "

"Even so, even so ... Reverting to the point when I discerned that you had taken up with a companion, I rejoiced I watch you sometimes m my scrying glass, you know "

"I didn't'" she said, startled "I don't know whether to be flattered, or

—Never mind' Continue'"

"As I say I rejoiced, hoping that our attachment would thereby be
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weakened Despite my best intentions, though, I grew curious concerning him what manner of man, I asked myself, could win Jarveena from her wild, her willful ways9 Inevitably, in the moment I found out, I was ensnared "

"I don't see— Oh'" Jarveena leaned her elbows on the table, goblet cradled in brown hands "If he is truly innocent, the curse on him must be stronger than the spells that bind yourself Break his, and you may find the way to break your own "

"Did I not know you to be ungifted in that area, I might well say you read my mind "

There was silence between them for a while At last Jarveena looked him straight in his unhuman eyes

"What are you going to do9"

"I have already begun You would not know what day it is today, the calendar that counts it has been long disused But it was necessary that you and he should come here now—not yesterday and not tomorrow Otherwise one would have had to wait a quarter year "

"You conjured up the wind that delayed our ship'"

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"It was imperative "

"Then you must think there's a chance'"

144 AFTERMATH

"Of freeing Klikitagh? Perhaps. First, though, I must learn the reason why the curse is on him."

"But you said already that he doesn't know! So how—?"

"Wait." The magician raised one hand which no longer matched his handsome youthful countenance—not that he was so handsome any longer, either. "What I said was that he honestly believes it was put upon him unjustly. That does not mean there was no reason for it. I assure you, even a thousand years ago no one would have undertaken such a work without a reason. Klikitagh may indeed be innocent; if so, there is a great and long-outstanding blame to visit on the perpetrator of a crime against him. Or, more like, descendants of those who benefited by its perpetration."

"But how can he not be innocent, having sworn by—? I waste my breath. You must already know."

"Indeed I do. That is perhaps the most remarkable aspect of the mat ter."

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Enas Yorl rose. "Now I must further the business. Time is wasting."

"May I wait? May I be of assistance?"

"You may not," The wizard's tone was final. "You will go hence about your own affairs. About now Melilot is rising, and he will be eager to discuss your trip. He will display great reluctance to mention Klikitagh, and you yourself will give the fellow not a second thought, save perhaps to hope occasionally that I can rescue him. Until sundown. At the mo ment when the sun cuts the horizon, you may return. Approach the entrance on Prytanis Street; address the basilisks by name—I'll teach you how—and they will let you by. If the work is not complete by dark, it will have failed."

"But these winter days are so short!" Jarveena cried.

"That is precisely why you must go now. It lacks less than an hour of dawn. Be on your way! No, wait! There's one thing more."

"Yes?"—as she turned to obey.

"No need to bring your customary fee. Reserve that for my final on slaught on your scars. It is enough that you have given me my greatest challenge in a hundred years of weary life, the first of all that holds out hope for me ... Begone!"

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And she was gone, with further words unspoken on her lips.

All transpired as had been promised. Jarveena spent the morning clos eted with Melilot, snatched a brief lunch, and in the afternoon went to the wharf where goods that she had purchased with the money he ad vanced her had been disposed in tidy piles: here, bales of cloth; there, jars of wine and oil; over there again small chests of spice, ingeniously

A MERCY WORSE THAN NONE 145

carpentered, that had a resale value of their own when empty. A certain portion being set aside for her, he paid her due commission on the rest. He might at one time have dreamed of cheating her, as he was used to cheating everybody else; her friendship with the powerful magician Enas Yorl prevented that. Besides, there was an additional advantage. It was not done to steal what Jarveena or any other associate of Enas Yorl's left on the wharf before it was transferred to guarded warehouses. Or not done more than once, at any rate . . .

"Well, that concludes our business for the day!" said the master scribe heartily, handing his compendium and his account scrolls to a boy-in waiting. "And in good time, what's more; it isn't even sunset, quite. Now I'm athirst. Shall we adjourn to yonder ale house and sample their mid winter brew? Unless, that is, you're eager to rejoin your man and find him different lodging for tonight—"

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