Mage Quest - Wizard of Yurt 3 (34 page)

Read Mage Quest - Wizard of Yurt 3 Online

Authors: C. Dale Brittain

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Fiction

IV

We flew back that night to the circular valey. Joachim and the Ifrit’s wife seemed to be getting along very welL “The Ifrit’s stil testing me,” I told him. “Today I managed to trick a witch into turning some fish she had ensorceled back into people,” but I said no more. The Ifrit stil refused to tel us anything about the others.

But at dawn he snatched Joachim and me up and out of sleep, setting each of us on a shoulder, and flew straight upwards while we were stil halfway between dream and a waking that seemed more desperately unreal than any dream.

“I think I remember now where I put your friends,” he said in a low rumble and reached out his arm. I had just gotten my eyes properly open when the dawn sky around us snapped, flared, and turned over.

I clung wildly to the Ifrit’s hair, my eyes clamped shut. Every angle felt upside down. But in a moment the world straightened out again. As we had flown straight up, we now descended until we hovered a short distance above the valey floor. Directly below us and immediately on the defensive was the rest of our party from Yurt.

Tut down your swords,” Joachim caled. This Ifrit wil not harm us.”

I doubted this myself, but knew that the most Hugo could have accomplished by sticking his sword into the Ifrit’s foot would have been al of our immediate deaths.

They were camped at a smal date-palm oasis which I could have sworn was not in the valey a few minutes ago. Even the horses were there, except for Whirlwind.

“Where have you been?” I gasped to Ascelin and he to us, as the Ifrit set the chaplain and me down. They al looked weary but unharmed.

“Here in the valey,” we al answered together. I glanced up at the Ifrit, who stood watching and smiling, his arms crossed. I knew perfectly wel the others had not been here. But then there was now no sign of the Ifrit’s wife, though we could not have flown a quarter mile of horizontal distance since we left her. It was as though the Ifrit’s magic alowed more than one reality to exist simultaneously within this valey.

There was no time to explore the implications of this, to wonder if the Wadi Harhammi was here too somewhere, hidden by the Ifrit’s magic. “The Ifrit’s taken my magical abilities from me,” I said. “I can’t even tel what’s real anymore.”

“No magic?” said Dominic. “This is going to make it harder.” He turned his ruby ring thoughtfuly on his finger. It stil pulsed slowly with light. “There’s been no sign of the boy and my stalion. We hadn’t even seen the Ifrit again since he first appeared and we were whirled through the air to this oasis. But we hoped that if we stayed here in the valey you’d be able to locate us again if you were stil alive.”

“Do you think your friends are ready for their tests, little wizard?” caled the Ifrit to me.

“I’m ready to ask you if you know what happened to my father!” Hugo shouted back.

“He’s probably dead, whoever he was,” said the Ifrit with a shrug. “Most humans are dead, sooner or later.”

Hugo whipped out his sword again. I could have stopped him if I stil had my magic, but ordinary human reflexes were too slow. Before I could reach him he lunged forward and drove his sword into the spot where the Ifrit’s leg had been a second before.

“None of that!” cried the Ifrit angrily, putting his foot back down and picking Hugo up by the back of the neck. “I may be immortal, but I bleed the same as any of God’s creation!” Hugo kicked and struggled and tried to swing around to stab at the hand that held him. The Ifrit frowned. “You seem to want to fight. Maybe that should be your test. But who should I have you fight? Not me, because I’d crush you at once and that would only be amusing for a few seconds.”

This stopped Hugo’s struggles for the moment

“I know!” said the Ifrit happily. “You can fight another human. How about—hmmm. How about this one?” He seized Ascelin with the other hand.

The prince hung, dignified, from the Ifrit’s grip on the back of his shirt. “We could give a demonstration of swordwork for your amusement if you like.”

“No,” said the Ifrit, peering at him with a frown. “That would not be amusing enough. I know! I’l have you fight to the death.” He set Hugo and Ascelin down. They stood uncertainly, their hands on their hilts. “Go ahead!” said the Ifrit impatiently. “This wil be your chance to entertain me. I want to see what humans do when they are fighting for their lives.”

They glanced questioningly at King Haimeric and at me. “Go ahead and fence,” I said slowly, hoping desperately that a good sword fight would satisfy the Ifrit, that he was not serious about making them fight to the death.

They took off their goafs-hair robes and slid their shields onto their arms. Hugo removed his earring and they both tied back their hair before strapping on their helmets. Only their eyes showed as they exchanged the ritual taps of the sword that begin a tournament duel. They took a few moments to get the feel of the sandy surface, circling each other slowly, then Hugo suddenly lashed out and landed a blow on Ascelin’s shield.

I had often seen Hugo practicing his swordwork, but could never remember having seen Ascelin in the tournament ring. He was extremely good. He had al the moves, the sudden thrusts, the ability to catch a sword either on his own sword or his shield, the quick turn to avoid a blow. When they had fought for ten minutes he was stil not even breathing hard. Hugo didn’t have anything like Ascelin’s height or experience, but he was twenty years younger and even quicker.

I’d never been trained in swordwork myself, yet I could stil appreciate how they managed to rain an impressive number of blows on each other, with sharp swords at that, without ever hurting the other.

Their shields rang again and again; their armor flashed in the sun. Even tournament sword fighting was intended to make the other fighter drop his blade and yield, but these two could have been engaged in a dance, ready to keep on indefinitely.

“Stop!” shouted the Ifrit and thrust a fist into the sand between them. They stopped.

“You aren’t realy fighting,” he said.

Hugo puled off his helmet and mopped his brow. I’l fight harder if you’l help me find my father, if he’s stil alive.” The Ifrit dismissed this. “I’m not interested in whatever relatives of yours might or might not be alive at the moment. I already said I want you to fight to the death.”

“And what do you offer in return?” I caled up to him, though I was afraid I already knew the answer.

“I don’t ‘offer’ anything,” said the Ifrit angrily. “I

don’t know why you humans always seem to feel that Ifriti exist to grant your foolish wishes. Maybe I want you to grant me wishes for a change! I want to see an exciting fight where you know you’re going to the.”

Joachim tried to say something, but it was no use. The Ifrit snatched up the four of us who were not fighting, two in each hand. “Say you’l fight properly or I’l crush these friends of yours now.” Ascelin’s eyes grew dark. “Of course I’l face death for them.”

The Ifrit smiled and set us down on the far side of his foot from Hugo and Ascelin. The king coughed and clung to Dominic for support.

“So, you are ready to sacrifice yourself,” said the Ifrit to Ascelin, sounding pleased. “But it won’t be amusing if you just stand there and let this hot-headed little man kil you. You,” to the king. “Order one to kil the other, and the other to defend himself.”

King Haimeric bent his head. “I cannot order either one to do that. You can do what you like to me.”

I had a nightmare feeling of paralysis, facing events moving far too fast, but if this was a nightmare I should have waked up long ago.

“I’m not going to kil you before you’ve had your turn to amuse me,” said the Ifrit irritably to the king. “You two warriors! I want one of you to kil the other one, now! I don’t care which one. But I do know how to make it more interesting. I’l give the winner the chance to live a little longer.”

“And then?” said Hugo cautiously.

“And then I wil kil him as punishment,” said the Ifrit with satisfaction. “Slowly, maybe over a week or two. I think I wil kil him both slowly and painfuly.” They both looked at me. Just because I had once known western magic, they seemed to think I had some sort of insight into Ifriti. Al I could do was shake my head. “He means it.”
V

Hugo seemed to be working his way from misery over his father to indignation and anger. “So he’s not going to let either of us go, no matter what we do? He wants to watch one of us the by the sword, and the other one by torture?”

“That’s certainly what he says.”

Ascelin turned sharply and puled his helmet back on. “Defend yourself just enough to keep the Ifrit happy,” he said to Hugo in a low voice. “We’re both dead anyway. I’l kil you as quickly and painlessly as I

can.”

“But—” Hugo puled his helmet back on as wel and raised his sword. His voice was holow from inside the helmet. “That means you’l let the Ifrit torture you!”

“Shut up and obey me,” said Ascelin roughly. His first blow caught Hugo unprepared and sent him staggering.

But the young lord recovered quickly and swung up his shield. “You’re not my prince!” he yeled. “I don’t have to obey you!”

“Yes, you do,” said Ascelin grimly, landing another blow. “That’s right, appear to defend yourself. I’l try to make this quick.”

“That’s better,” said the Ifrit with satisfaction, watching with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why you humans always raise so many objections to everything.” They were both realy fighting now. Al I had ever seen, close up, was tournament fighting, but even I could tel the difference. Their swords flashed faster than I could folow and their feet churned up the sandy soil. It would have been thriling if it was not so terrible. Ascelin slowly backed Hugo toward a boulder, using his superior height and reach to ful advantage. But the younger man ducked under what looked like a fatal thrust and landed a glancing blow on Ascelin’s arm as he darted away.

Ascelin stopped and looked at him. Blood seeped slowly onto his sleeve. “You aren’t listening, Hugo.”

“No, you aren’t listening! If this Ifrit s already kiled my father, I don’t care what he does to me! I’l try to make this quick, Ascelin.” Without answering, Ascelin sprang forward. Their swords rebounded with great clangs from each other’s helmets. Blood and sweat were dripping from them both now. I thought sickly that at least neither one of them would stil be alive for the Ifrit to kil slowly. Joachim was murmuring under his breath again.

“Hugo!” said Ascelin, stepping back for a second. “Stop defending yourself! I know you don’t like this, but it’s for your own good.” Hugo didn’t give him a chance to finish before he was on him, swinging his sword wildly. “I told you I’m not going to obey you! This is my quest, for my father, and you’ve been bossing me the entire trip, but you can’t do it anymore!”

Ascelin caught Hugo’s sword tip in his shield and gave a sharp jerk, wrenching it from the younger man’s hand. But as he drove his own sword forward, Hugo dropped, roled, grabbed his sword again, and bounced back to his feet behind Ascelin. The prince whirled just in time. I turned my head away, unable to watch.

“Ifrit!” came a below from beside me. “Ifrit! You must make them stop!”

It was a voice, loud and ringing, I could never recal hearing before. But when I turned I saw it was the king.

Hugo and Ascelin were both so surprised that they stopped, twenty feet apart, eyeing each other warily.

“Sire?” said Dominic cautiously.

King Haimeric, as slight and white-haired as ever, glared up at the Ifrit, trembling like a leaf in the wind but completely determined. “Al I can offer you is myself, but I’m not going to let you make them kil each other!”

“And who do you think you are, little man?” said the amused Ifrit, lifting him on his palm to face level.

“1 am King Haimeric of Yurt.”

“Yurt,” said the Ifrit softly, and the color drained from his dark cheeks. Tve heard of Yurt.”

“If you’ve heard of Yurt,” said the king determinedly, “then you know it is a kingdom where no one, not even criminals, is put to death.”

“I was told,” said the Ifrit, stil very softly and as though he had not even heard this remark, “to watch for people from Yurt.”

“And what were you supposed to do with us when we came?’ demanded King Haimeric.

“I wasn’t supposed to kil you,” said the Ifrit unhappily. “Or at least not right away,” he added, brightening.

“Then you can’t make my warriors fight to the death,” said the king firmly.

“I guess not,” said the Ifrit glumly. “You, little warriors there! Stop kiling each other.”

Both Hugo and Ascelh* colapsed where they stood, dropping their shields and swords and reaching up for their helmets with trembling fingers.

“How did the king do that?” I said to the chaplain as we rushed toward them. “I couldn’t have changed the Ifrit’s mind even if I had al my magical abilities. Maybe I’ve been using magic as a crutch al these years.”

Joachim gave me what might have been a smile. “If so then I’ve been using religion the same way. Each of us has to use the abilities we are given, and Haimeric is a king and born to command.” Dominic and I helped the fighters remove then-armor; Joachim found the bandages and Ascelin’s salves. The two were bruised al over and nicked and bleeding on the parts of their bodies not protected by mail. None of the cuts were deep, but there were enough that I thought they both would have an impressive colection of scars—that is, if they lived long enough for the cuts to heal. Hugo fel asleep while we were stil bandaging him.

“Christ,” said Ascelin, his head between his knees. That kid’s good. Why wouldn’t he let me kil him cleanly?”

“Be glad he wouldn’t,” said Dominic. “At least you’re both stil alive—for the moment. Stop twitching and let me get this bandage tight.”

“I remember now,” said the Ifrit slowly. “You people of Yurt have a secret. I’m supposed to make you tel me. Or maybe you’re supposed to give something to me.”

“What kind of secret?” the king asked.

That’s what I’m asking you!”

It was hard enough trying to deal with an unpredictable and enormously powerful magical being without dealing with a stupid one as wel. “If you let me have my magical powers back,” I caled up, “I think I could tel you.”

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