43
NO more stone-men attacked us; Nzame must have realised the futility of sending small groups against our force. We marched across the stone landscape for five more days, tense but not as despondent as we had been. Behind us stretched sheets of water soaking into the newly wakened earth. The strips uncovered by the water were not yet extensive, but they gave us hope, and every night as we watched Fetizza settle into yet another crack we smiled as the water seeped up about her.
Fetizza seemed totally unfussed by the attention everyone gave her, and hissed and flattened only when the bitch approached. Not that the dog did that very often; she’d already found out that Fetizza could nip fiercely when provoked, and once the frog had almost drowned her in an ankle-deep puddle of water.
The Released continued to improve. We all bathed nightly, and each evening the Released splashed about I could almost see a few more of their fears sliding away with the water.
I wished that the water could have done as much for my fears as it did for theirs. Nzame had not approached me in my sleep again, but I thought he was just biding his time.
Boaz was very quiet. He slept as undisturbed as I, but he was increasingly wrapped in inner thoughts.
On the sixth day after Fetizza had reappeared, we met Iraldur of Darsis.
There was a flurry of movement at the head of the column, and I lifted my eyes.
“Boaz, look! There are men ahead.”
Zabrze rode forward to meet a war chariot pulled by two black steeds accompanied by a group of six horsemen. Even from this distance I could see the glint of chest plates beneath silken scarves, and the wicked curve of free scimitars. The man driving the chariot was more heavily armed than any of his soldiers.
As Zabrze hailed them, the man in the chariot waved at his horsemen, who pulled their mounts back and sheathed their weapons. Then he leaned over to take Zabrze’s hand.
“Iraldur,” Boaz said. “Come on, Tirzah.”
Iraldur was about Zabrze’s age, a fierce looking man with narrowed eyes and an easy familiarity with his weapons and war chariot. He was also patently furious.
“A great army of stone-men shuffles two days’ march to the west, Zabrze. You have harboured this pestilence within your realm, fed it, and yet now you ask for my help in disposing of it?”
“And I thank you for your assistance,” Zabrze said mildly. “For here you are.”
“The only reason I am here, Zabrze, is because this wickedness is nibbling at my people and land as well! Do you realise that now we stand on what was once fertile Darsis land? Grain fields have produced only stone this season, Zabrze, and for that I have you to thank!”
“I am not responsible –”
“You are Chad, Zabrze, for I hear Nezzar has finally tipped completely into madness, and as Chad you are responsible for every piece of excrement every one of your subjects produces. And this particular piece of shit,” he spat on the ground, “is most definitely your responsibility!”
Iraldur spotted us. “Ah! Magus Boaz! Have you come to explain what the Magi have set loose on my country? Have you come to explain to weeping mothers why their husbands are stone and their children are taken to feed the appetite of this –”
Then Iraldur spotted Fetizza in Boaz’s arms and his mouth fell open.
“Much of what has been destroyed can be renewed, Iraldur,” Boaz said, and set Fetizza on the ground. She found a suitable crack and squeezed in happily, emitting a loud sound which I hoped was a sigh of satisfaction.
“On behalf of the Magi,” Boaz continued as Iraldur dragged his eyes away from the frog, “I must accept responsibility for what has happened. The Magi’s greed for Infinity has loosed wickedness, but with your help, and that of Zabrze’s, I hope to put it right. Get me to Threshold, Iraldur, and I will win back for you your land and your people.”
Just as Iraldur was about to reply his eye caught the gleam of water as it oozed up about Fetizza, and the frog croaked and grinned at him.
Iraldur led us to his camp, an hour’s march away. He had set up camp on the stone, he explained, because he was afraid of what might happen if he camped just outside of it and Nzame decided to expand his influence.
“We would all be turned to stone in the winking of an eye,” he said as he waved us inside an extravagantly draped tent. “And I am not yet ready for such a living death.”
Isphet and I accompanied our husbands inside. Iraldur had been surprised to find that Boaz had taken a wife – I think that actually endeared Boaz a little more to him – but was stunned and saddened to find that Neuf was dead.
“I think not to insult you, my Lady Isphet,” he said, “but I had known Neuf since my boyhood, and she was a friend.”
Isphet inclined her head graciously. No doubt she would encounter more such surprise in the future.
Iraldur waited until we were comfortably settled, and then turned back to Zabrze. “Tell me.”
Zabrze looked about us, then back to Iraldur. “There are four within this tent with stories to tell, Iraldur, and it is best for you to hear them all. You said this stone-man army is two days to the west?”
Iraldur nodded.
“Then you have this evening to spare to listen. No, wait. How great a force do you have here?”
“Six thousand men. As many horses.”
“Then we shall dispose of these stone-men easily enough, and I think you shall be surprised to see what we do with them. Patience. These tales are important.”
Iraldur stared at Zabrze, then he nodded curtly. “Very well.” He waved at a servant, and we were served chilled fruit juice spiced with something that momentarily made my head spin, then gave everything in the tent a sharper edge.
“Boaz?” Zabrze asked quietly. “Will you begin?”
Iraldur sat and listened without comment as first Boaz, then Isphet, me and, lastly, Zabrze, told our tales. The Prince waved the servant forward every so often, replenishing our glasses, and only interrupted to clarify a point, or, when I spoke, to ask if he could see the Goblet of the Frogs and the Book of the Soulenai.
I sent word to Holdat, and he entered just as Zabrze finished his tale, and handed me the book and goblet. I passed them to Iraldur.
“It is a remarkable tale you tell,” he said, and he looked at me, then Isphet. “Slaves become Necromancers and then the wives of Princes and Chads.”
Isphet held out her wrists. “Then chain us again, Iraldur, if you think we deserve it.”
“I do not criticise, Isphet,” Iraldur said. “Over the years I have heard many philosophers argue that slaves are the only ones within a society who exist in a true state of nobility. Today, perhaps, I have seen the truth of that theory.”
Isphet’s mouth twisted bitterly. “I doubt these philosophers have ever been slaves themselves, Iraldur. I have never yet met the slave who has revelled in the nobility of his or her existence.”
“Win me back my people,” Iraldur said very softly, “and I will oil and kiss your feet myself.”
“Will you help us, Iraldur?” Zabrze asked. “We have two days before this cursed stone army reaches us. I cannot deal with it on my own. Will you help us?”
“Yes.” Iraldur closed the Book of the Soulenai. “Yes, I will.”
I thought to sleep well that night, but I was wrong.
Nzame came to me in the form of the handsome black-eyed man, standing again in the summer fields of Viland.
“Stone-men are but a fraction of the power at my disposal, foolish girl. Ten thousand I send to meet you, but I can as easily generate ten thousand more, and then ten thousand more to follow them. Can you deal with that many? Will you spend your life laying hands on that many? Can you survive that great a challenge?”
I thought that if I ignored him, if I turned away, he would tire of the game.
But my legs were stone to my thighs, and I knew I would age and die before Nzame grew tired of the game.
“I know what Boaz intends to do, Tirzah. Do you? Do you?”
I could not help myself. I looked up.
“He thinks, Tirzah, to wrap me in his power and drag me through to Infinity. His power? Ha!”
Nzame’s laughter rang about me, then he stopped as suddenly as he had started.
“But even if he should succeed, Tirzah. Even if he should succeed. There we would be, trapped together in Infinity. Imagine. Your lover and me, locked in our own Infinity. It would not be your sweet embrace he would feel, but mine. For eternity, Tirzah. No escape. My embrace.”
“No!”
“Yes! Tirzah, think. If he comes to me either he will succeed, or he won’t. Which would be the preferable outcome, Tirzah? Would you prefer Boaz to fail…and die? Or would you prefer him to succeed…and spend Infinity in my embrace?”
I began to sob, twisting my body about, wishing I was free to run through the fields away from these taunts.
“Is he a good lover, Tirzah? Shall I enjoy Infinity in his embrace?”
Then suddenly my legs were free, and I had my wish. I turned and ran as hard as I could, barefoot through the soft grass and flowers.
Nzame’s laughter rang after me. “Which would you prefer, sweet Tirzah? Which? I shall make sure that it happens. What is it you wish for your lover? Death? Or…?”