The Gems of Raga-Tor (Elemental Legends Book 1) (8 page)

Eris frowned. “I should have guessed as much. So what does that have to do with my ability, or inability, in someone’s bed?”

“Because I was thinking that if the Sultan gave you the gem, and then you left with it, the protection spell wouldn’t kill you, because he
gave
it to you.”

Eris laughed, but he was far from amused. His voice dripped sarcasm.

“What am I supposed to do? Wink at the Sultan and hope he’ll hand over the gem for a moment’s flirtation. Or better yet, ask him if I might purchase it with my paltry bag of gold so I can adorn my lovely neck?”

“No. He’s going to give it to you, because you are going to be chosen as the new flower for his seraglio. You will become, briefly, his new bride. This means that he might very well desire you for his bed before the nuptial ceremony has actually been performed. I’ve heard that the stone has been set into a necklace to be given to the lucky woman,” Raga explained.

“A bride! This is absurd. If you think for one moment that I’m going to prostitute myself for this Sultan——gods! The thought makes me sick,” Eris argued. The sword pressed more firmly against Raga’s chest. “I ought to roll your head into the gutter. I’ll wait until his new wench is carried on her palanquin through the city, and then I’ll rip it from her neck. I’ve escaped from city guards many times before.”

“But,” Raga said, trying unsuccessfully to push away the pressing blade, “it will still be palace property. You will die.”

“Maybe, and maybe not. The spell on the green gem isn’t working in my presence, and chances are that one won’t either. I really don’t think you know what will happen. The gods know I don’t. I thought you devils from the Red Vale knew all the rules of spell making.” He pressed the blade ever so slightly more.

“It’s not the spell of a Red Vale sorcerer. I can’t guarantee it,” Raga defended. “You’re still trapped in a corner. It could be months before the wench is allowed into the streets, and who knows if she’d wear such a gem in public. Do it my way and you would only have to stay in the seraglio until the Sultan gave you the gem, then make your escape. It could be only a matter of days. I can forge a mind-bond between us, and then I’ll be able to know how to help you whenever and wherever.”

Damn him
. The man was determined to draw him further into the realm of vile sorcery; into obscene plots that made him consider, yet only for a moment, of throwing himself on his sword and ending it all, but the driving desire for revenge stayed his hand. Besides, his conceit told him, the world yet had need of a man of his abilities.

To Riza’s hell with all of this.
Was he that much a coward to not at least attempt this bizarre scheme? Raga, he conceded, was right on one point. The tedious boredom of waiting days, or months, for the new bride to appear in the streets would allow him time to become involved in some other unwanted perversion.

“You win, old man,” Eris said grudgingly. “I can’t argue with your logic—what there is of it. Nor, at this moment can I think of anything better.”

“Eris, this sword of yours is becoming quite uncomfortable,” Raga complained. “Would you please remove it?”

“Just remember what it feels like, because if you get me killed in this crazy scheme of yours, my shade will follow you even unto the Red Vale and carve out your black heart
,
” Eris vowed. With his free hand, he pushed back a thick strand of ebony hair over his shoulder.

“In jeopardizing you, I defeat myself. Truly, Eris, I want to be your friend. And, being the sorcerer I am, I really have been most patient with you. If I know Charra-Tir, she never gave you even half the chances I have,” Raga-Tor said truthfully and spread his arms.

“Aye, sorcerer,” Eris agreed as another wave of exhaustion swept over him. He crossed the room, tossed the blade on the bed and slumped down. He was so tired. “This is insanity,” he sighed quietly. The beautiful voice had lost all of its rough edges. “What makes you so sure this Sultan will choose me? There will be slavers, merchants and nobles all trying to provide the perfect woman. We may not even get to Reshan in time to even be included.”

Raga smiled briefly and rose to his feet.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get there. As for him choosing you, I have no doubt. When you see yourself in a full looking glass, you’ll understand. If that’s not enough, well, I’m not completely without power,” Raga said as he gathered up his bow. “What more do we need?”

“A little sleep might be nice.” Eris yawned. His eyes drooped.

“I’ve already taken care of that.”

Eris whispered, “Damn you, Raga. Are you the cause of this heaviness in my head?”

“Believe me, you need it. You’ll feel quite well in the morning. By the way, I can’t seem to sense the power of the green jewel. You didn’t lose it did you?” Raga asked concerned.

Good
. Eris smiled. The spell he had traded something quite valuable for was working perfectly. It was a spell that would hide and protect the gem from the probing magics of any sorcerer, and from the eyes of all men except himself. As much as he loathed sorcery, in this instance, it turned out to be a necessary evil.

“No, I didn’t lose it. It’s quite safe. Trust me, Raga, trust me,” Eris assured, giving Raga a most beguiling smile, though he wasn’t aware that he had done so.

Raga nodded and pulled the door open to return to his own room which was only a few doors away.

“You know, it really is too bad it’s you inside that incredible body,” he sighed with a wink. “I really would like to find out what happens.”

Eris grabbed one of the daggers lying on top of the blanket. Raga rumbled with laughter and pulled the door shut just as the hurled weapon flew by.

It struck the wall, hung for a few quivering seconds, and then fell to the floor with a heavy clatter.

“Damn you,” Eris mumbled hazily and fell back onto thick pillows that materialized behind him. Hearing Raga’s laughter echoing in the hall, Eris was compelled into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Along the high plateau of the Rennas Escarpment stretched a wide, and for the lateness of the year, nearly deserted road that connected the northern most edge of the Isthmus of Magir to the continent.

It was the fastest north-south route into and out of the port city of Rennas Baye, and the great bay that was the size of an inland sea, owing to the leagues of flat, desolate gray rock that formed the road across the escarpment. Except for a few scrubby pines growing in strangled stands, or a blade of grass peeking up through the fissure of a rock, the plateau was mostly void of plant and animal life.

Now that summer was ended, the chill autumn winds began their whirling in mid-afternoon and continued through the night. In the early days of winter, only those whose wagons were light dared to cross the barren plateau where sudden, freezing black storms reigned; when the wind howled and sleet scoured all traces of summer passages from the rocky face.

Eris and Raga, cloaked against the chill wind, rode swiftly across the plateau in an effort to reach the downside forest by nightfall.

The forceful winds suddenly died down across the escarpment. Both felt as if a great burden lifted from their shoulders. Their ears rang in the sudden, overpowering stillness.

Raga felt a certain tenseness leave him and adjusted himself in the saddle before turning his attention to Eris.

“It’s five hundred leagues to Reshan’s capital city, you know.”

Eris inclined his head, but didn't speak.

“Five hundred leagues is a long way to go, and even more so if I have to talk to myself the whole way. It’s been two days now since we left Rennas Baye and you’ve hardly said a word.”

Eris pulled a small, sharp knife from a sheath concealed within his saddle. “You should have thought of that before you did what you did,”

“So what would you have me do? Apologize all the way to Reshan?” Raga asked. “I thought a little sleep would do you good.”

“A little sleep I might have overlooked.” Eris pointed the blade at Raga. “But, Verin’s eyes, you put me to sleep for two days. I thought we needed to hurry. How do I know what chicanery you were up to?”

“I thought if you woke up as a man again you might be in better humor. Obviously, I was wrong.”

Eris glared at him.

“Believe me, I did nothing but make preparations. I only used the gold you took from that bastard on the wharf, and not even all of that. I didn’t touch your things, or come near you. You saw that much when you awoke,” Raga explained truthfully.

“So you say. On your honor, no tricks?” Eris rubbed a hand across his chin. A shave was definitely in order.
That was a stupid question. None of them have any honor.

“You have my word. Besides, in a strange way, it even helped to save and further your reputation. Which, as you well know, was becoming suspect.”

“How so?”

“Well, the next morning Kaitay came into your room and saw you there as…as Erisa. How’s that for your female name?”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Raga grinned. “And what a flurry of jealous gossip flew about that inn for half a day. Even your friend, Raj, stuck his head in to see what all the fuss was about. He knows a good thing when he sees it,” Raga explained, with a wink.

“My point exactly. Anything could have happened with all those people poking about.”

“Do you think after putting up with you long enough to convince you to come with me, I was going to let something happen to you. By the time they returned, I had put a little illusion spell around you so they thought you were gone,” Raga said.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Fine. I'll accept what you say. But don’t ever do anything like that again, unless you tell me first and even then, I’d sooner tell you to go to hell,” Eris said as he brought the small blade close to his neck.

“
What
are you doing?” Perplexed, Raga watched Eris drop his head back.

“Shaving.”

“Are you crazy? You’re riding a horse. You’re going to slice your neck wide open. How am I going to get my gems back if you slip and kill yourself?” Raga suddenly felt an irresistible urge to scratch the beard covering his throat. “Why can’t you wait till later when maybe you’ll have water and soap? That blade isn’t even close to a decent razor.”

Smoothly, Eris made the last pass up the side of his neck. With three quick flicks of his wrist he removed the stubble from under his chin. He turned to Raga with the particularly disarming smile that was unique to him and said, “Calm down, sorcerer. I’ve been doing this for a long time. A soldier doesn’t always have the time, or the luxury, of soap and water to get the job done.”

He started on one cheek.

“Neither does a scoundrel on the run,” Raga quipped. Nervously, his eyes followed each quick stroke. “What if your horse trips? If you don’t want a beard, though I can’t see why not, then how about a little spell to—”

“No! I do just fine on my own,” Eris interrupted, touching up a spot or two he missed. “Look at my face. Do you see any scars?”

“No, but—”

“Of course not. I never slip. And if the horse stumbles…”

Eris let the explanation hang. He spread out his empty palms. The tiny blade had disappeared back into the saddle.

Raga frowned. “That still doesn’t mean it can’t happen."

“Then worry about it when it happens.” Eris squeezed his mount’s sides. The horse sprang forward eager to run. “Come on, Raga,” he shouted over his shoulder. “Give that nag of yours some oats and let’s be off this rock before the wind blows again.”

“Willful child,” Raga grumped. He adjusted himself again in the saddle, and then spurred his mount to catch up with the vibrant green and black of Eris and horse as they raced as swift as the wind across the plateau’s gray rock.

Ulna Karahm, the lush garden city and capital of Reshan, lay as a gleaming pearl shining white against the warm, golden sand of a desert beach. Tall palms rose as green minarets from the tropical gardens enclosed within thick, city walls.

From their vantage point high on a sand dune, Eris and Raga looked over the walls into the unusually well-organized city. Seven natural springs supplied the inhabitants with the water to sustain life in this arid region of blowing, shifting sand. Growing around six of the springs were magnificent gardens full of fruit trees, exotic flowers, and broad-leafed plants that gave shade to the weary, as they came to fetch the clear, cool water.

The seventh spring was not visible and Eris knew with certainty that he would see it once he was inside the expansive palace, which was built in the very center of the city; an inconvenient location for making good on their escape should it come to that.

In the distance, several leagues to the north of the city, was a gray-brown cluster of tents. In the cool quiet of the morning, the travelers heard camels bellowing and goats bleating as the shepherd boys gathered the animals to take them to feed on patches of scrubby plants.

“In many ways, that is the real Reshan,” Raga said, pointing to the tent village.

“Then what need have they for a Sultan?” Eris asked.

“Aside from being a moderator between the nomadic tribes and merchants, or between the tribesmen themselves—truly, I’ve never seen a group of people who argue amongst themselves as much as they do—the Sultan is the head of a very large, well-disciplined army that patrols this vast desert,” Raga told him.

“What have they to trade except sand and goat cheese, much less guard with such an army?” Eris asked, gazing across the endless dunes.

“You surprise me. I was sure a rascal such as you would have heard the stories about Reshan.”

“I’m not fond of deserts, so I avoid them.”

“Dismount and follow me,” Raga said.

Eris followed Raga several paces from the barely discernible road they were following. The sorcerer held out his hand, palm down, and closed his eyes. Slowly, he turned in a circle. Eris laughed at the picture he made.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing?”

“Shh, I’m listening.”