"So the Storm Princess brings a Changewind right into down-
town Covanti, the one thing they're powerless against. Maybe
it gets them; at least it scatters them and keeps *em from
thinking much about defensive spells. By the time they got
regrouped you'd have thousands of organized troops inside
the hub against an army still running. Besides, this isn't the
hub—it's the colonies. Jeez, I still remember from my high
school history classes what a siege is. If they take the colo-
nies and then put up a wall like this around the hub in all
directions, the hub'll be cut off. It'll take a while, but no
more raw materials, no more fresh fruit and vegetables. . . .
They'll be eatin' their grapes before they crush 'em. The
demon forces like the Stormriders will protect the rebels, and
there won't be much of an army in there for a breakout."
"Then the sorcerers would have to spearhead the break-
out," Dorion pointed out.
"Uh-huh. And that means they got to leave the hub, right?
So they break out of any side and the other three sides get
invaded. Neat. They'd slaughter every Akhbreed they found
and leave the sorcerers with nothing to come back to. I bet
some of these sorcerers would make deals with them when
that happened. Besides, who says the rebels don't have some
sorcerers, too? Isn't that what Covanti thinks Boolean's up
to? And isn't Klittichom a full-fledged equal?"
Dorion thought about that. "Urn. . . . Maybe I've got the
same disease that those troops do. I can't see a hole in it, but
you make this whole system sound so vulnerable. I can't
believe that it's that easy to break through, or somebody
would have done it by now."
"They didn't have Akhbreed sorcerers on the rebel side
before," Charley noted. "And they didn't have those sorcer-
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM 129
ers running messages and even troops between colonial worlds
or coordinating things, and they never had anybody who
could use the Changewind as a weapon before. No, it's gonna
be a bloody, rotten mess now, and so many are gonna die it
makes you want to puke just thinking about it. Still, if it
wasn't for one thing, I'd just as soon see this rotten system
fall."
"What? Klittichom?"
"Us. If the colonial races are all organized then the
Akhbreed's outnumbered from a hundred to a thousand to
one, and not a one of those other races has any reason to do
anything but hate Akhbreed. If they win, bein' an Akhbreed
is gonna be the worst thing you can be. And we're Akhbreed."
That brought him up a bit short. "Urn, yeah. I hadn't
thought of that."
They might have continued their conversation but there was
me sound of a rider coming, and as soon as Halagar reached
them and dismounted, Dorion could sense Charley vanishing
before a wall of blank blandness. It was amazing how it
happened every time.
"There's no problem moving through," he reported to
them, "but there might be big problems on the other side.
The word is that somehow large numbers of infantrylike units
and mounted units appear to be able to move out from the
worlds of colonial Tishbaal as they come up, and they arc
doing so. It's irregular, but no one can tell if the main bodies
are moving in towards Tishbaal hub, or if they are fortifying
in the null, or in some assembly world. The odds are pretty
good we'll have to make our way through some kind of
colonial force to make it into the kingdom, and probably an
enormous force surrounding the hub."
"But we've got to get in and out of the hub to go west,"
Dorion pointed out. "And if Tishbaal is that bad, imagine
what Masalur will be. And just what we might have to get
through as well."
They had long ago dropped any pretense of assumed names
for the women and Boday was able to speak freely under
Dorion's very loose leash.
"Boday is ready," she proclaimed. "If it comes to a
battle, she will do her part!"
Dorion looked over at her, then back up at Halagar. "Uh-
130 Jack L. Chalker
huh. So the three of us arc going to take on a nurbreed army.
The odds at best may be only a few hundred to one. The pair
of you are mad!"
"There will be gaps and weak points," Halagar responded
confidently. "There always are in the best of formations, and
the border there is quite long, and the guards might be good
fighters but they have no experience. Come, my friends! It's
not as bad as all that. We shall have to forego our pack animal,
however, and that's too bad. Come—let us eat a little some-
thing and transfer what we can to our own mounts and get
some rest. I want to cross entirely in the darkness, when most
are asleep and guards are bored."
"And jumpy and likely to shoot first and ask questions
afterwards," Dorion added grumpily.
Halagar shrugged. "There is grave risk from here on in,
but you knew that going into this. I would certainly prefer
being shot to being captured by these sort of people, though.
There is still time to call this off, if you do not want to make
the journey."
Dorion sighed. "No, that's not really an option for us. All
right."
"Well, then, is there anything in your magic that might be
of help? A spell to disguise us to look like whatever they look
like, for example, or to charm us against bullet and sword?"
"I don't think you can depend on magic," Dorion finessed
as carefully as he could. "For one thing, those that you ask
require much preparation and paraphernalia, long incanta-
tions, that sort of thing. Not to mention that I'd have to know
what we were supposed to look and act like. No, the odds arc
I'll be far too busy dealing with any precautionary magicks on
their side to also handle us. You'd need a true sorcerer to do
it all."
"Fair enough. I did not really expect much help from that
quarter,'* Halagar responded, in a tone that made Dorion
unsure whether he'd been insulted or not. "Very well," the
mercenary continued, "we improvise."
The Klutiin guarding the extreme western sector were spread
thinly and certainly not expecting anything. They were tall,
thin creatures, particularly ugly to Akhbreed eyes, with mot-
tled yellow and olive skin resembling that of an exotic snake,
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM 133
a pair of deep-set black eyes, and a thin and very long
proboscis that shot straight out from their faces and then
angled down. They had forbidden, semi-automatic rifles slung
over their backs, but seemed more comfortable and at the
ready with their tribal spears, which they held in their hands.
The stretch of border was as mist-covered as the rest of the
null, perhaps a bit deeper as the border range was nearby, but
it wasn't difficult for Klutiin sentries to see and hear horses
coming towards them. They were a good thirty yards apart at
this point, walking back and forth, more a warning line than a
barrier, with a company encampment back near the true and
"real" colonial border of Tishbaal, whose worlds changed
slowly but with eerie regularity behind them. Clearly they
weren't there in strength or with intent to build and attack
Covanti; they were, rather, a psychological deterrent, visible
through the telescopes and binoculars of the Covantian Akhbreed
soldiers far across the eternal mists of the null, and intended
to be. A deterrent, and if need be, a holding action in case
Akhbreed troops from Tishbaal's neighbor should come to the
aid of their sister kingdom to the northwest.
When they heard the eerie stillness of the null broken by
hoofbeats, the sentries were startled, and rather than raise an
immediate alarm or go for their rifles, they went out of habit
to their warrior stances with the spears.
"Riders'" one called out in the harsh guttural language of
the Klutiin, but perhaps not loud enough. Almost instantly he
heard a cracking sound and was gasping for air, pulled back
and down by a leather whip expertly entangling itself around
his neck, and he vanished beneath the mists.
The sentries on either side turned, unsure whether or not
their comrade had been downed or simply had slipped on the
spongy, soft, wet null surface. A moment later a figure
wearing the sickly yellow tribal robes climbed unsteadily to
its feet, shifted the rifle on its shoulder, and again assumed
the readiness stance with its spear.
The one closest to the other frowned, as if sensing some-
thing wrong, but not being certain just how to cope with it.
There was a sudden pull on his own neck from the back and
he went down, a cry muffled by a knife swiftly and profes-
sionally cutting his throat.
Now, suddenly, the horses were visible, heading for the
332 Jack L. Chalker
spot right between the recently fallen pair. The sentries fur-
ther on now gave the cry of alarm and began to hurry towards
the spot where the horses would cross, but Halagar on the one
side and Boday on the other swung their newly acquired rifles
on them and cut them down with short bursts.
Dorion, riding Halagar's horse with its special saddle with
Charley in front of him, slowed just long enough for Boday
and Halagar to quickly mount the two riderless ones he led,
and then they kicked the horses' sides into the fastest possible
speed and headed for the true border as shouts and shots and
flying spears showed up all over the place.
There was no way to choose or determine which colonial
world they would enter, although they'd delayed their attack
until a border came up that seemed relatively unfortified and
smooth enough for the horses to make a clean run inside. It
was a strange-looking fairylandlike forest of the deepest greens
imaginable, with lush vegetation but with some clear open-
ings, and, most important, only one border fence, set in from
the null.
Halagar and Boday stopped after they reached solid ground,
turned, and began shooting at the disorganized but very angry
soldiers now rushing towards them from all directions. Dorion
pulled up at the fence, saw that it was mostly just barbed wire
like it had looked through the binoculars, and began hacking
away at it with a sharp sword. He cut three of the four main
strands away; the bottom one was just too low for him to
reach and not also fall off or cause Charley to fall off. He
urged his horse through the breach and it cleared it.
Boday turned, saw the opening, then broke off and headed
towards it as well, leaving Halagar to lay down some fire.
When she made a small jump through, he turned in the saddle
and followed.
The null was out of sight in a moment, but the trio rushed
on for a bit until they felt safe to slow down and await the
others. Dorion in particular didn't want to lose Boday and
Halagar in this stuff, and he certainly didn't want to have to
yell to find them. There was no doubt in his mind that a
heavily armed and very nasty patrol would be sent after them
on the double.
Boday, still wearing the tribal robe, caught up to him and
stopped, then pulled off the robe, and threw it away. "Smells
WAR OF THE MAELSTROM 133
horrible," she commented. "Like it lined the sty of a hun-
dred sweating pigs."
Halagar joined them in another minute, a broad grin on his
face. "Now, that worked rather well, didn't it?" he said with
evident satisfaction. "Rank amateurs, even for colonials."
"Almost too easy," Dorion agreed, "although I did sweat
a little right in there. Anybody hurt?"
"I've got a scratch where a bullet winged me, but it's
nothing more than that," Halagar replied. "You?"
Boday was scratching all over. "Boday fully believes that
the soldier was not the only one inhabiting that robe!"
That gave them a bit of a laugh, although it wasn't funny to
Boday, and Halagar jumped down and examined the horses.
"No shots—I doubt if they've trained much with those rifles,
if at all. Not a single one put their weapon on automatic fire,
which would have done us in but good at the fence. Still, we
came through that one pretty well."
"Yeah, and, just think, we have three more of those to
go," Dorion said grumpily, "If we were lucky this time, how
many times can we afford to do that?"
"Not many," Hatagar agreed. "But we'll have to take
each one as it comes and solve it somehow. Best by stealth, I
think, and trickery, rather than directly as here. We also have
to get from here to there. If that was all the force they really
are putting on the kingdom borders, then their main force
must be elsewhere. It is inevitable that we will run into it
sooner or later. I certainly wish I knew just what they were up
to, though." He thought a moment. "Perhaps not so much
holding off Covanti or threatening it as perhaps securing a
vital area for other activities, like bringing in more troops by
whatever method they've found for doing it. We shall have to
watch our backs." He looked around. "Dorion—have you
ever seen or heard of this colonial world before?"
"Beats me," the magician responded. "There's far too
many to ever keep track of."
"I don't like being in these woodlands not knowing what
might lurk here," the mercenary noted. "Let's find a reason-
ably open area and camp here for now. In the day, we'll head
east towards the main road and follow it as much as possible
without risking ourselves unnecessarily. 1 dislike moving by
day, but in a strange world with an enemy about it is better to
134 Jack L. Chalker
risk being seen, rather than not see what is lurking for you.
From now on, though, everyone keep a watchful eye and ear
at the ready. We want no surprises."
"You*re going to camp here?" Dorion said nervously.
"They'll be all over here in a matter of minutes'"
Halagar chuckled. "I think not. They can't know any more
about most of these worlds than we do, and they can't spare
many, if any, troops to go off into this darkness looking for
us. Oh, they'll send a patrol or something that we can hear
two leegs off, and they'll clomp around for a bit and make
like they are doing a major job, but it'll be half-hearted and I
doubt if those unlucky souls will really even want to find us.
No, they'll just send a message forward that some folks
stonned the tine and trust to those further on to take care of
us."
"Yeah, that helps a lot," the magician responded glumly.