Part 10 (2/2)

Chapter 5.

The coming of Princess Chienna to the Pougoi village did not awaken Aybas. He had been unable to sleep since he had seen the Star Brothers preparing for a sacrifice to their beast.

He lacked the courage to ask if they intended to sacrifice the princess herself. He told himself that even if he possessed the courage, it would make no difference in the end. He had made clear Count Syzambry's wishes many times over. If the Star Brothers ignored both him and the count, there was nothing to do but bear word to the count.

Bear word to the count, and then swiftly take himself out of Syzambry's reach. The little lord would not thank the bearer of bad news any more than would most ambitious men.

Gongs, drums, and that hideous wooden trumpet signaled the coming of the warriors. The common battle trumpet of the Border Kingdom was an offense to the ears. What the warriors of the Pougoi used was beyond Aybas's powers to describe.

Would he ever hear an Argossean flute-girl or a Nemedian lyre-maid again? Would he even hear the wailing pipes and thudding drums beating for the march of the Aquilonian foot on a bright autumn day? He doubted it.

He also doubted that he would accomplish much by feeling sorry for himself, save to fuddle his wits at a time when he needed them clear.

Taking a deep breath, Aybas pulled his cloak about him and stepped into the village street.

Heads were thrusting out of doors all the way down to the valley. A few folk even stood in their doorways, staring into the darkness. Aybas saw some of these make gestures of aversion as he pa.s.sed. He wondered if the gestures were against him, against the Star Brothers, or simply against whatever ill luck might come to the Pougoi through meddling in the affairs of kings and counts.

Aybas had long since realized that these hill folk were more longheaded than Count Syzambry realized. No amount of gold could silence their tongues or blind their eyes. If the count gained what he sought, he would have a reckoning with the Pougoi as well as with the other hill tribes they had preyed on for a generation to feed their wizards' pet.

A stand of spiceberry hid Aybas, as it had hidden Wylla and her father two nights before. From within it, he stared out across the rocky fields of barley as distant fireflies grew into crimson-hued torches.

The pungent reek of the herbs the Pougoi used in steeping their reed torches made Aybas sneeze.

This drew no attention. The warriors of the Pougoi marched up to the wizards, and the leader raised his spear crosswise in both hands.

”Hail, Brothers of the Stars. We bring what we have sought. Bless us now.”

It did not sound like a suppliant coming before a priest. It sounded more like a captain commanding something he would take if it were not given freely.

Aybas would not pray that the Star Brothers take offense and quarrel with the warriors. Such a brawl would end Count Syzambry's hopes by ending the life of the princess, if indeed it was she within the covered litter. Aybas's reward would die with her, and so might he.

The fall of the Star Brothers might also unleash the beast. The creature might rampage through the hills, devouring all in its path, with neither men nor magic able to bind or slay it.

One by one, the Star Brothers nodded. As the last bearded head bobbed on the last thin neck, the princ.i.p.al Brother raised his hands. A globe of fire, vermilion flecked with gold, sprang into being between them.

It turned wizards and warriors alike into figures of blood and shadow.

The Brother with the globe raised his hands higher. The other Brothers began a chant that Aybas had never heard, and he liked it even less than the rest of the wizards' music.

The globe leaped into the air and rose higher than the top of the dam, higher than the uppermost pinnacle on the tower of the greatest temple in Aquilonia. It screamed as it soared, a scream that seemed to come from a living throat, a scream that the beast echoed.

Then the globe was no more, and fire was raining down on the warriors.

Gold and vermilion mingled in the fire, and the warriors raised their faces and weapons to it.

The fire descended upon the warriors. It turned their eyes and mouths to pools of fire. To Aybas, it seemed that the Pougoi warriors were now some man-shaped breed with cat or dragon blood, or both.

Their weapons did not turn to fire. They rose from their wielders'

hands, as gently as soap bubbles, glowing softly. Aybas watched, breathless, as they ascended, rising almost as high as the globe of fire had done.

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