The Crystal Warriors (8 page)

He was already cursing himself for a fool even as he spoke, for he was letting his frustration show. Never show frustration to a commander, Mark realized, or he'll doubt your ability to command in turn.

But Allic only shook his head and laughed.

"Good, good. If you want it, then don't worry, the motivation will be found soon enough."

Allic drained off another goblet and smacked his lips in appreciation. "Good stuff, this pawinda. Laid it up myself nearly eighty years ago, but the two of you don't strike me as connoisseurs of the finer things. You're men of action, and I like that. Life here, with training all the time, must be getting a little boring for you."

Mark felt he had said enough already and remained silent. They had been locked away for three tendays of Haven time. There was a whole world out there and he wanted to see it.

"How about a little mounted patrol this afternoon?" Allic ventured with a smile.

"Excellent!" Ikawa replied. "I've been waiting to try one of your mounts."

"Ride?" Mark inquired.
Oh no,
he thought nervously,
not another crisis.

He knew Ikawa as a Japanese officer took riding as a matter of course. But those things weren't even horses. The creatures called Tals looked more like one-ton Dobermans with leonine fangs.

"Sure," Mark said, gritting his teeth, "sounds just great."

"Fine," Allic said, his face alight with a mischievous grin. "After lunch, have Valdez direct all of you down to the stables. My people have chosen suitable mounts for you. I'll meet you at the east gate about half a turning after that."

Mark had long ago roughly calculated that a turning, or a bell, was almost an hour on his old watch. So half a turning...

Allic stood up as if to signal that the audience was ended, and escorted Ikawa and Mark to the doorway.

"By the way, Varma reminded me that I've neglected one important part of your comfort." He broke into a broad grin.

"Oh, we're quite comfortable," Mark replied politely.

"No, no, if you men are anything like the people of Haven, there is one important detail."

"I can't imagine what," Ikawa replied. "The training is the best, and for creature comforts our surroundings are magnificent."

"Not all of them," Allic said. "Varma, get in here―I know you're listening on the other side of that door!"

The door swung open and the dwarf stepped in. "Only awaiting your command, my lord."

"Gorm meat. You're eavesdropping again."

"I'm innocent, my lord, honest."

"Enough. Do you think you can arrange a little diversion this evening for our new friends?"

"Of course, of course." Varma looked mischievously at Ikawa and Mark. "What will it be, gentlemen, women or young men?"

"What?" Mark roared.

"Well," Varma replied, "I've heard some conversations between your men. Always sex, sex, sex. I don't know what you people do back on your Earth, but on Haven sex is just another form of casual fun. Everybody does it until they make a life pledge to a single partner. And even then..." The dwarf chuckled and looked over at Allic, who roared in appreciation.

"Dozens of women are dying to spend the night with you outlanders," Varma continued. "They think you might know a new trick or two. But Allic here said to wait until you'd all settled in. So what will it be, gentlemen? Women, or perhaps young men, or both?"

"Are you calling me a..."

Ikawa pushed in front of Mark.

"Ah―why don't you just ask some of the girls to stop by tonight," Ikawa said smoothly. He grabbed Mark and hustled him out the door.

"Just one woman for each man, then?" Varma asked as they hurried down the hall.

"More than enough." Ikawa kept a hand on Mark's shoulder until they had turned into a side corridor.

"Did I say something wrong?" Varma asked, looking at Allic. But his master was bent double with laughter as the two outlanders disappeared from view.

"That guy," Mark began, "that guy was calling me..."

"Different people, different customs." Ikawa tried to suppress a laugh. "Don't insult our hosts. They'll catch on to our preferences soon enough."

"Yeah, but I never thought―"

"Don't worry about it," Ikawa said. "We'll tell the men about the party later. We want their minds on the patrol this afternoon."

"Yeah, but..." Then his thoughts turned back to the patrol. Damn, one-ton dogs with foot-long fangs―and why did they have to look like Dobermans?
God, give me strength,
Mark groaned inwardly.

The rest of the outlanders were listening to a lecture from Pina who stood in front of a wooden apparatus that held the largest crystal any of them had ever seen.

That sucker must be at least the size of a basketball,
thought Kochanski.

Pina stopped suddenly in the middle of a statement. He nodded as if acknowledging something, and addressed the Japanese and Americans who were listening to his lecture. "Allic has just informed me that after talking to Mark and Ikawa he has decided that you will all go on patrol this afternoon. The fresh air and a change from boring classes should be well received, neh?"

A satisfied murmur answered him.

He smiled and continued, "Now, however, I want to finish my explanation of how our crystal cannon or wall crystals work. They are far too large to be moved about comfortably by an individual and require a much more elaborate aiming device since we use a tighter beam to insure longer range. They are capable of holding a far greater charge than your wrist crystals, so you can pour more and more energy into it, aim, flip the aperture, and fire a blast over a hundred times more powerful then a standard shot."

"Questions? Yes, Kochanski."

"This is all very impressive, but limited in many aspects, including line of sight. If we were to introduce gunpowder you would have the advantage of mortars and rockets in addition to rapid-firing machine guns. Don't you think that would revolutionize warfare around here?"

Pina shook his head and murmured something to Valdez who walked away. Pina continued, "This has been discussed since your arrival and we have decided to delay any development for a while. First, as a sorcerer you never have to worry about running out of ammunition, you just draw in more Essence. Second, your weapons are very finely machined. We can't match such precision without a major expenditure of resources, and we're not sure it's worth it."

"You're kidding."

Valdez had returned with one of the Americans' .45s and handed the pistol to Kochanski.

"Please stand and take a few shots at one of the practice dummies."

Kochanski looked at his companions and shrugged. He walked out a few steps and turned to face the targets. A quick check to insure there was a round in the chamber, and he nicked the safety off, aimed, and fired.

The shot kicked up dust beside the target and Kochanski lined up again, trying to correct his aim.

All the others were watching Pina who had moved in back of him and whose eyes suddenly glowed as Kochanski squeezed the trigger for his second shot.

Nothing happened. Puzzled, Kochanski cocked the hammer back and tried again. Nothing.

Pina then resumed his lecture to a captivated audience. "Finally we decided that all an opposing sorcerer has to do is use a little creativity and change the chemical structure of the explosive to render it totally useless. Mind you, we think it might win a battle or two before it is countered, but we haven't decided yet whether it's worth a long term investment."

Kochanski resumed his seat, feeling like an ignorant child.

"Any more questions?"

Saito raised his hand. "Here, sir. The patrol we're supposed to go on this afternoon made me think of it. Just what will our duties be when we finish training?"

"Well, you never really finish training. I'm seven hundred forty-three years old and I still need improvement in a number of areas. A lot of it is simple. Anger and adrenaline will give any sorcerer enough energy to blast someone else; just as fear and self-preservation will enable your shield to absorb or deflect almost anything as long as your will and strength hold. The rest of your talents can be developed in time. For now, you are warriors."

"Your responsibilities will be guard duty, patrols, garrison duties, caravan escort, and other special assignments. Of course you will continue to develop your skills throughout. You have much to learn."

"I know we're sworn to Allic and all that, but do we get any kind of pay for our services?" Younger asked.

Pina looked at him intently. "You are already lodged in an estate where you have all your food and drink, servants, and clothing provided. But yes, Allic has you listed as drawing pay with the rank of acolyte. If you want cash, simply go to accounting. Most of us just use our communication crystals. If you wish to buy something you call in the details and accounting takes care of the payment. It's all very simple."

L
ieutenant Mokaoto fought for his crust of bread, kicking the larger slave in the mouth and retreating to the full distance of his chains. With a roar the other man bounced up and tried to reach Mokaoto, earning another crippling blow to the throat.

Able to eat in momentary peace, Mokaoto choked down his food. He knew he was barely hanging on to his sanity. Weeks of living in these pits had tried his reason to the utmost. The room seemed to stretch on forever in the dim light, and scores of others were chained as he was, living in their own filth.

It was Ikawa who had brought him to this, Ikawa the traitor. Without realizing it, Mokaoto began to scream his hatred and frustration, his cries joining the moans and shouts of all the others.

And his body began to glow as the Essence responded to the draw of his subconscious needs.

Sarnak, who stood unobserved in the shadows, left the stench of the dungeon and walked back out into the morning air. With a smile he turned to his pit master. "You say he's been showing the Essence ever since his arrival?"

"Yes, my lord. It is still weak, but every day it grows. I would have thought by now that it would have reached its limit. If he ever realizes that he could use it as a weapon he would be dangerous. He's almost insane with rage, a danger to us all."

"Leave me. You have done well to break him so quickly."

As he continued to walk the battlements in contemplation Sarnak motioned to Ralnath. "I see a use for Wika at last. You will go to him and tell him I planned to execute him, but that you begged me to give him another chance."

Ralnath nodded as Sarnak continued, "I need this outlander developed and trained quickly and Wika will have the responsibility. Tell him that you judge that hatred will temper the outlander's metal even more quickly. If Wika can force him to pass through the trials in three tendays I will spare his parents and siblings. Otherwise their heads will join those of his wife and children."

"You make the judgment as to Wika's fitness for this, Ralnath."

Ralnath smiled in appreciation of the plan, and asked, "His crystals, my lord?"

"By all means return Wika's crystals to him. But you will make sure that both his offensive and defensive crystals are secretly flawed."

"Understood, my lord."

"And one more thing."

"My lord."

"The offworlder will need to focus his initial hatred. When you feel the time is right be sure that he believes that his imprisonment is Wika's fault, and that I was not even aware of how he was taken, for Wika kept it a secret."

Smiling, Ralnath withdrew, hoping that Sarnak's anger over the previous failure was no longer directed at him, and that Wika alone would pay the full price.

* * * *

The Americans and Japanese stood uneasily in front of the stables.

"You must clear your minds of all fears," Valdez said quietly. "These Tals are from Jartan's private breed, and the family line has served his house for over five thousand years. The Tals are proud of their heritage and would die before harming any of Allic's warriors. But they have complete contempt for any coward that sits upon their back, so show some courage."

Cursing a steady streak under his breath, Kochanski held himself under rigid control as a Tal was brought before each of the outlanders.

Christ, what a monster,
he thought, and was stunned when a thought was projected into his mind.

*I am Nar-Talon, of Dar-tal's line. Very strong, good fighter.*

"Uh, I'm Stan Kochanski, U. S. Army Air Corps," Kochanski responded, and the others looked around at him as if he was crazy.

"Look guys, the thing talked to me," Kochanski said defensively. "Honest!"

"Ah, bullshit," Goldberg replied even as a trainer brought one of the Tals up to his side.

"Hey, what was that? Who the hell was talking?" Goldberg cried, stepping back.

"Batha was merely introducing himself," the trainer replied, looking at Goldberg as if he were an ignorant peasant without any manners.

"What?"

"Tals are intelligent creatures," Valdez said in an exasperated tone. "I told you that before we came down here, but you laughed at me."

"But he spoke in my mind!" Goldberg looked warily at the Tal next to him.

"Precisely," Valdez replied, as if to a group of idiots. "You don't just ride a Tal, you become a battle partner with him. He's an extra set of eyes, and though limited, an extra brain that can help make decisions in the heat of combat. Tals can speak telepathically with whomever they please. Treat them with respect and affection and they'll be loyal until death. In the months to come each of the Tals will choose the man it prefers, and then you'll be a battle team."

"You mean they'll pick one of us as a partner?" Kochanski asked.

"Yes," Valdez said wearily. "You don't want to be atop a Tal that doesn't like you. They want a partner they can trust."

"I'd hate to be on the wrong side of one," Goldberg responded.

"Aye, their mouth is a mean one, to be sure. Why, 'e can rip a head off with a single bite," a stable hand said, affectionately stroking a beast on its muzzle.

Private Matsumoto stepped forward from the assembly and approached the Tal directly in front of him. He rubbed the Tal's flank and to the surprise of everyone placed his arms around its neck and gave it a hug.

"I had a dog back home," Matsumoto said softly. "How I've missed him. And now I have a friend again."

The trainers, who obviously held the same affection for the beasts, smiled approvingly.

Without another word Matsumoto vaulted into the saddle and leaned forward, patting the Tal on the shoulder.

"His name is Onta-Talon," Matsumoto said happily, "and he claims he can outrun all the others in this pack. So let's see!"

With a whoop of delight Matsumoto hung on as Onta broke into a run and charged out of the stable. The other Tals, having heard the challenge, approached the men with loud growls and short jumping movements, like oversized puppies eager to play. Their growls echoed and roared, and their leaps shook the stable.

"Well, let's go, Nar-Talon, or whatever your name is!" Kochanski cried as he grabbed hold of the pommel and swung himself into the saddle. The others, struggling both with their courage and the Tals, finally gained their saddles as well.

Kochanski grabbed hold of his peaked flying cap and waved it in the air.

"Hi-ho, Silver, away!" Kochanski roared as he galloped out of the stables in hot pursuit of Matsumoto, with the rest of the pack thundering behind him.

"Damn fools," Valdez mumbled, shaking his head.

* * * *

"My lady, a messenger hawk has returned to the aviary."

Patrice turned from the window and looked at the young witch standing before her.

"Let it in, then leave us."

Bowing low the girl backed to the door and held it open. A small hawk fluttered into the room and landed on the windowsill beside Patrice.

It was such a beautiful creature, she thought, extending her hand to lightly stroke its breast. It was a special breed, a secret known only to herself and a handful of servants in the court. Not even her uncle Jartan knew of this little sideline of interest that she had developed.

Bending low she fixed the creature with her gaze and stared into its unblinking eyes.

If anyone had been in the room they would have seen a light shimmer from her hand encircle the bird, so that its bright red wings and dark orange body seemed to glow with fire. For several minutes she held it with her gaze, then smiling, turned away.

"So my impetuous cousin thinks his new allies can be safely let out of the castle. Now we can begin to play the game. He has too many of them already, and I think it's time the wealth was shared."

* * * *

"Magnificent, simply magnificent."

Mark brought his Tal alongside Ikawa's and eased into a slow canter.

"Did you say something?"

"It's just I never could have imagined anything as beautiful, as stunning as this," Ikawa replied. "I thought Fuji in the springtime, still snowcapped, with the cherry blossoms around it, was paradise. But this..."

Mark leaned back, relaxing a little bit after the hard gallop of the last half hour.

Comfortable ride now, sire, stay slow?

He still wasn't used to a voice in his mind. The Tal turned its head and looked back at him with an appraising gaze.

"Ah, yes, that's fine, Gukha-Tal," Mark said out loud.

The Tal fell into an easy stride. Mark realized that the creature undoubtedly knew his anxiety and was responding by giving the gentlest ride possible. He leaned over and patted its flank. The creature growled softly, like a playful dog.

The wild beauty of Allic's realm spread itself around them. A high ridgeline, which they had been climbing for the last half hour, dominated the view in front. Turning in his saddle, Mark looked back down onto the open, fertile plain. Derosa trees dotted the countryside from horizon to horizon like great elms, their spreads a hundred or more feet across, and covered with blossoms. Deep red was predominant, but the colors shifted in some groves from pale pink through burgundy. The warm air was awash with a heady scent like lavender and new mown hay.

The fields were laid out checkerboard fashion. The crops appeared to be primarily grain, but here and there an ancient well-ordered vineyard was evident, the arbors heavy with fruit. There was some mechanization in the form of reaping machines pulled by oxlike creatures and occasional water- or wind-powered mills, where wagon-loads of grain were waiting to be ground and logs were ready to be cut. In all of this there was a sense of organization and pride in labor that was well done. In many ways it reminded Mark of old Currier and Ives prints of American farms in a simpler and happier age.

They passed through small, well kept villages of whitewashed houses made of masonry and split timber, peaked with brilliant tile roofs that more often than not were laid into multicolored designs of winged birds or swirling geometric patterns. The houses, large and comfortable looking, were decorated with intricate wood carvings depicting pastoral scenes.

The farm holders and villagers were a healthy lot, not at all Mark's image of medieval peasants. The men wore loose fitting trousers, open shirts, and broad-brimmed straw hats. The women who worked in the fields wore trousers as well, while those in the villages were dressed in bright skirts embroidered with arabesques. Almost all the women wore loose peasant blouses pulled in with a small waist cincture or corset.

Their eyes were bright and they called out cheery greetings to Allic, who returned their cries with a happy wave. He stopped occasionally to inquire about the crops or accept a beaker of wine, and Mark could not help but notice Allic's easy relationship with his people. There was a note of deference, to be sure, but it was the deference of a proud people who respected their leader and expected respect in return. No bowing and scraping: these people were yeomen, not serfs.

The outlanders were a source of curiosity, and when walking their Tals, a number of shouting, laughing children would run by their side. From more than one second floor window a young woman, and sometimes several, would lean out in their low-cut blouses and shout suggestive offers.

The Americans responded in typical fashion, and by the time they left a village behind, the children were already imitating their wolf whistles or shouting outlander slang.

Soon they had left the last village behind, as the trail led into the forest. It seemed they rode through a tunnel of green and sun-soaked red, the derusa trees creating a canopied tunnel that appeared to stretch forever. The path beneath their feet was strewn with fallen blossoms. The outlanders rode as if in a trance, soaking in every detail.

The forest was alive with great flocks of small birds with golden wings and lavender bodies that wheeled and darted around them, chirping rhythmically in an ever-varying song.

Many of the nobles in town kept a dozen or more of the birds as pets, since each one would respond to a call from the other by singing on a different note so that a group of them would weave an ever-varied tone poem. Its effect was hypnotic when just a dozen were singing, but out in the wild the gentle calling of hundreds seemed a symphony of changing harmonics.

As they emerged from the forest onto the high crest of the ridgeline, more than one of the riders looked back longingly at the magic they had just left behind.

But the view that now confronted them was even more breathtaking.

As far as the eye could see, the countryside was alight with the shimmering red-greens of the forest, checkered with the neatly arranged fields, orchards, and vineyards of Allic's people. Far away to the south and west, as the countryside swept downward, they could almost see where areas of cultivation reached the edge of the escarpment, which dropped away for thousands of feet down to the open savannah of the distant horizon. Far to the east was another ridgeline which marked the edge of Sarnak's realm, the distant mountains a shimmering dark blue line against the afternoon sky. Looking down and to the north, they could see the city of Landra, its great temples, palaces, and manor houses laid out along both sides of the river, all of which was surrounded by the shimmering limestone walls.

"Not a bad looking fiefdom, is it?" Allic asked, his pride obvious.

"I never thought I would see anything more beautiful than my homeland in the spring," Ikawa replied softly. "But now I have; it will hurt beyond measure when finally I leave this place."

"Let's not talk of leaving now," Allic said. "You still owe service to me, and I brought you here because I wanted to show you something. Please dismount."

Following Allic's lead, the Americans and Japanese dismounted, talking excitedly of the wonders they had seen.

"Would you men come with me," Allic called. "Don't worry about your mounts, they can take care of themselves."

The men fell in behind Allic, following him up a narrow, winding path that cut between a series of rounded boulders.