Iron Tongue

CHAPTER ELEVEN

" We can' t outrun them," Inyx gasped. " They close on us, no matter how we confuse the trail."

" This is my country. They will not find us." Jacy Noratumi sounded more confident than he felt. The soldiers had proved more tenacious than he' d thought. When he and the other pathetic few had fought their way through the defensive wall of what remained of onceproud Bron, he had thought to simply walk away, that Claybore would be content with conquering the city.

Leaving his home to the grey- clads had rankled more than anything else in his life. He felt he had given up too easily, yet he saw that Inyx was right in her advice to abandon the city. To carry on the fight, he had to be free to roam, to chevy, to retaliate in whatever fashion came to his fine brain. Dying with his city was a noble gesture, but one which denied Noratumi' s true duty to its citizens.

Revenge now drove him, and Inyx figured prominently in it.

" There are too many of them. I: I think they use seeking magics on us. Lan told me of his home world where they use sniffer- snakes, magically enhanced creatures to smell out prey. They are almost impossible to elude or defeat."

" These are flesh- and- blood soldiers following us," Noratumi said flatly. " As such, they can be killed with a good sword thrust." He demonstrated by slashing at the air above his mount' s head. The animal whinnied and glared back at its rider as if to protest such cavalier behavior.

" We can' t run from them forever. They will wear us down. We need time to establish a base."

The man knew Inyx was right. Without at least a week to find and establish a secure camp in the mountains, they would be ineffective and kept on the run. Sooner or later they would falter and the grey legions would have them at their mercy. From Claybore, Noratumi expected no mercy at all.

" We can double back and try to regain the city, then. Bron is vulnerable. Claybore would hardly expect such an attack."

" The reason he wouldn' t expect it," Inyx said bitterly, " is that it' d never succeed. We need an army. Look. Do you see an army?"

" I see nobility in these refugees. They will fight, if I so order."

" They' ll fight and die, then," snapped Inyx. " Twenty- fewer!are not enough to lay siege to a city. With Claybore' s mages conjuring constantly, they could wipe us out without endangering the hair on a single soldier' s head."

" Why doesn' t he use this vaunted magic to stop us now?"

Chills caused Inyx to shiver in spite of the sun' s warmth on her back. She spent much of her time glancing over her shoulder, certain that the grey- clads had ridden them down.

" He doesn' t need to expend the energy. The soldiers can follow. But I suspect a mage accompanies them to help track us. We have used tricks designed to slow the finest of hunters. None has worked. Can you explain that, if not through the use of magic?"

Jacy Noratumi sullenly shrugged, turning away from the darkhaired woman. He had never met one like her before; she fascinated him with her independence and quick thinking. That she swung a sword better than most of his citizens only added to his admiration of her. He just wished she' d stop harping on this Lan Martak. He' d met the man briefly at the oasis and had seen little in him to justify such loyalty.

Noratumi couldn' t bring himself to believe Inyx actually loved Martak- a mage and a spider- lover! What perversity!

" We must find a base. Soon." When Noratumi didn' t answer, Inyx pressed on, this time voicing what she had hoped he would intuitively understand. " We must make our peace with Wurnna. They can offer the sanctuary we require."

" Wurnna? Never! Those demons would enslave us. Sooner would I throw myself on my sword than even attempt to ally with them."

" Bron and Wurnna have warred long enough. Bron is no more. They can use our aid to save Wurnna. Claybore no longer has to divide his forces. He can bring the full force of his army against Wurnna now. If you want to preserve this world for its native inhabitants- for yourself- this is the only way."

" Better Claybore than Wurnna ruling."

" You can' t mean that." Inyx saw Noratumi' s resolve weakening. She softened her approach, rode closer and reached out to place her hand on the man' s shoulder. " Claybore will never be satisfied with less than total obliteration. His goals do not require anyone living on this planet. He must be stopped. Soon."

" But Wurnna," whined Noratumi. " They are Bron' s sworn enemies. For centuries we have fought one another."

Inyx didn' t need Lan' s magical powers to understand the nature of the struggle. They fought one another; they also needed one another. The external threat hardened resolve and allowed cohesion of culture and purpose that wouldn' t have existed otherwise. If either had triumphed, that would have required new territories to be explored and exploited and conquered. Both Bron and Wurnna had enjoyed and profited from the local conflict. With Bron no longer in the matrix, Wurnna' s rulers faced what had been, until recently, unthinkable. They fought a foe capable of actually destroying them.

" Give me another idea."

Silently, Jacy Noratumi reined toward the notch in the mountains leading to Wurnna. The sag of his shoulders told of his lack of enthusiasm for the journey. At times being a leader carried burdens too intense for any man.

" The refugees come," said Iron Tongue.

Lan nodded. He, too, had sensed their approach through the tortuous mountain trails. Since Rugga had gifted him with both a bracelet and necklace of the power stone, he found it easier to use his magical abilities. Casting spells, minor and major, no longer tired him as it once had. He marveled at the powers he had accumulated and now exercised; the power stone freed him from physical exhaustion. His magics opened vistas into the universe that dazzled him. At times he felt exultation rivaling any god' s and at others he became humbled at the task ahead of him. These powers weren' t for his personal use. In some way he didn' t yet understand, Lan Martak traced back the source of the magic to his home world. The Resident of the Pit had touched him and caused the burgeoning of latent magical powers within his breast.

Duty and pleasure. Those magics provided both. He had to use them for betterment along the Cenotaph Road- and that meant countering the evil Claybore had wrought.

" Jacy Noratumi is with them," he said. Lan didn' t mention Inyx' s accompanying the small band. The less Iron Tongue knew of his personal life, the less power the ruler of Wurnna had over him.

" Bron is lost. I shall enjoy seeing Noratumi sweating in the power- stone mines. He has taunted me in the past. Now I shall laugh."

" We need them- and not in the mines. How many were killed during Claybore' s last attack?"

" No mages."

" No mages," agreed Lan, " but fully half the population of Wurnna perished."

" Slaves. A few citizens."

" Many," insisted Lan. " You need even a paltry handful of refugees to swell your ranks. Defending the city requires men and women acting because they want to and not because they fear being enslaved."

" We will talk with them," came the soothing words. Iron Tongue used the full power of his tongue. Lan paled slightly, then countered the effective magics with deadening spells of his own before he agreed with Wurnna' s ruler.

" Noratumi wants us to meet them outside the walls," Lan said.

" How do you know this?" demanded Iron Tongue.

Lan didn' t answer. That he had received this communication from Inyx came as revelation and relief for him. His new powers showed him that they wouldn' t have to be apart again. While distance might separate their bodies, their minds could remain in contact. The flow was blurred and indistinct now, but he knew it would grow with practice. He wanted it to grow. He needed the dark- haired warrior woman more than he had thought possible.

A small hand signal from Lan stopped Inyx a dozen paces away. She flashed him a puzzled look, then studied Iron Tongue. Understanding slowly dawned on the woman. This was the man Claybore sought; this was the man with the magical tongue; this was the source of the misery and suffering on this planet.

" Iron Tongue," said Jacy Noratumi without preamble. " I seek asylum for my people."

" Only thirteen of them." A sneer twisted Iron Tongue' s lips. " The mighty ruler of Bron governs only refugees." He laughed cruelly and the sound echoed off the mountains and rumbled down the canyon toward the spot where Claybore' s troops had once made their camp. Only death remained there or beyond, where Lan' s ebony dragons had devoured human flesh.

" You do little better," snapped Noratumi. " Wurnna crumbles bit by bit. How many of your citizens are left?"

Iron Tongue started to lie, then tempered it when he saw the expression on Lan' s face.

" Enough to survive."

" Inyx claims we can unite against Claybore."

Iron Tongue turned his attention to Inyx. The woman returned his bold stare without flinching, even though something curled and writhed deep within her. Iron Tongue was a man of infinite cruelty. His very gaze threatened to strip away her humanity. When he spoke, he humbled her. She wanted to fall to her knees and worship him.

Only Lan' s level tones pulled her out of the spell cast. Her vivid blue eyes widened as she grasped the full importance of both name and power possessed by Iron Tongue.

" She is my friend," said Lan, glad that Rugga had remained behind in Wurnna. Still, Iron Tongue would make certain this datum got into the other woman' s hands. He played political games constantly, jockeying for advantage- it wasn' t enough to possess supreme rhetorical skills in a city of mages.

" So? She is welcome in Wurnna." Iron Tongue smiled insincerely as he said, " and so are our brothers and sisters from fallen Bron."

" For them, I accept," said Noratumi. " For myself, however, I prefer to stay outside the walls of your city."

" Jacy, we need you. We need your talents. You are the tactician we need," pleaded Inyx, gripping his sleeve and tugging slightly. He never looked at her.

" I will not enter that city. Not while he rules it."

Lan and Inyx exchanged looks. The nonverbal link between them formed but their confused thinking prevented any but general emotion from flowing. Inyx inclined her head slightly, indicating she desired a private conference. Lan nodded. While it wasn' t vital that Noratumi close ranks with his mortal enemy, it suited Lan' s own plans if he did so.

Plot. Counterplot. He was beginning to conspire with the best. He and Inyx walked away a few feet to talk.

For what must have been a minute, neither spoke. They were content simply staring at one another. Lan reached out and tentatively touched Inyx' s cheek, almost afraid she might be an illusion sent by Claybore to torment him. If she were a wraith, Claybore outdid himself. The cheek flushed under his touch and turned warm. Strong fingers gripped his wrist and pulled him closer, her red lips coming to his. Eyes flashing with desire, she started to kiss him.

" Wait," said Lan. " This isn' t the time. Once we are in the city, then we can speak."

" Speak?" she mocked. " Is that all you want to do? It' s been an eternity since we saw one another."

The silent communication that had been sparked now flared into a full two- way flow of information. Along with it came emotion undeniable to the woman of what Lan Martak felt for her.

" Lan my darling, I shouldn' t tease you like that. I: I know how you feel about me."

He swallowed hard and held her close when a tickling sensation started at the borders of his mind. Claybore launched a new attack.

" We must get inside Wurnna' s walls soon. The power stone helps protect us."

" What of their mages?"

" Most are dead. Most of the ordinary citizens- and slaves- are dead, also. I found in your mind the last moments of Bron. Are these the only survivors?" He indicated the haggard band of refugees resting in their saddles.

" As far as I know, these are the only ones to escape. They had no way of deflecting the magics Claybore hurled at them. If Wurnna had been more sympathetic, there might still be two outposts against Claybore."

" How do we persuade Noratumi to join forces with Iron Tongue?"

Inyx shook her head and said, " I see no way. He fears, and legitimately, that Iron Tongue will enslave him. The truce might cover the common survivors of Bron, but never a leader. Jacy is wary of all sorcerers, you included, Lan."

" I suspect there is more to it than that," he said dryly.

She looked at him sharply, but said nothing. Inyx almost blushed, something she had not done since before her marriage to Reinhardt. The bits and pieces of information she had read in Lan' s mind corresponded to those he had gotten from hers. She did not know if she was prepared for such intimacy. Of body, yes, but of mind? That was a step beyond any she had taken.

" What will we do? I sense Claybore' s attack is close."

" You feel it, through me? Interesting." Lan' s mind took in the datum and continued on, constructing various schemes and discarding them as he went. " I must talk with both Noratumi and Iron Tongue. They will either agree or cut one another' s throats by the time I am finished."

He and Inyx rejoined the others, upper arms brushing as they walked. Lan rejoiced in the woman' s nearness. They had been apart far too long. The brief sojourns with Rugga had counted only as political dealings in his mind, just as Inyx' s dalliances with Jacy Noratumi fell into the same category. He almost smiled to himself. He had outgrown petty jealousy, the jealousy that had precipitated his departure from his homeworld when one of the grey- clads had murdered his lover. But was this newfound maturity worthwhile? He had come to think in terms of temporary alliances, what was to be gained from the politics of the flesh.

Lan decided it was. His love for Inyx only deepened. And, if the brief rush through her mind was any indication, the soft emotion was shared.

" Noratumi, Iron Tongue," he said. He motioned for the two leaders to join him. With small twitchings of his fingers, he wove a spell that dulled Iron Tongue' s persuasive powers. He found it impossible, as yet, to completely negate the tongue' s enhancements, but he didn' t need that at the moment.

" I have decided. I will never set foot inside those walls." Noratumi' s words fell monotone, determined.

" What makes you think you would be welcome?" said Iron Tongue. " Your people are needed. You? Ha! You are a worthless leader who lost your city- state. What else but failure can you bring to Wurnna?"

" All our skills are needed," Lan said patiently. He tried to analyze why Iron Tongue' s words carried such magic. In dim ways he began to understand and use a weaker version of the spell. " Wurnna needs the numbers. Noratumi' s people need a new home."

" Only until Bron can be rebuilt."

" That requires Claybore' s defeat. Work for it, Jacy. With Iron Tongue."

" I will not be a slave in his power- stone mines."

" Who' d want a lazy snake like you? It wouldn' t be worth the whip leather to beat you."

The two leaders glared at one another. Lan cut through the mounting hatred.

" A truce. Temporary, until Claybore is routed. Iron Tongue, do you agree not to enslave Jacy?"

" Only if he works in the mines of his own free will. Without the stone, we cannot triumph. You know that. You came to the same conclusion."

" Will you, Jacy, work freely in the power- stone mines if it means victory?"

" Yes, but you are promising something that will never be delivered, Martak. The spiders prevent easy access to the mines. Even with my people, we are too few to fight and mine."

" If I grant free access to the mines, will that satisfy you both?"

" A treaty with the spiders?" scoffed Iron Tongue. " Impossible."

" Will you agree to all we' ve talked about, if I can do it?" Lan wrenched the reluctant nods from both men. He heaved a deep sigh and indicated the narrow dirt path leading back into the safety offered by Wurnna. The magical pressures mounting indicated Claybore forged another massive offensive. He needed the vast reserves of power stone within the city to feed his own defenses.

Juggernauts of prodigious power- all illusory- smashed against Wurnna' s defenses for twenty solid hours. By the time Lan, Iron Tongue, and the remaining sorcerers had reached the point of exhaustion, so had Claybore. The offensive slowed and finally vanished.

" How long, Lan?"

" I don' t know," the young mage told Inyx. " Claybore might start up again at any minute. He is almost as powerful as all of us within the walls. The power stone is all that feeds our defenses now."

" Can' t you use that little grimoire of yours to find a new spell that will stop him?" She pointed to the brown leather, brass- studded book Lan had dropped on a nearby table. He had been given the book of spells by a dying mage atop Mount Tartanius.

" I' ve looked. Some of the spells come easily now. I used several to send the black dragons into Claybore' s soldiers- and I hadn' t even remembered seeing them until Iron Tongue and the others worked with a modified version. I changed the spell slightly another time, but Claybore now counters it easily. There' s so much I don' t know!" He came to the point of frustration- caused tears. He had come so far, yet the path stretched to infinity before him. Claybore had spent centuries learning his magics. Lan Martak was a newcomer to this form of battle. He had unwillingly entered an arena where a strong arm and a quick sword meant nothing.

" Try to relax. Don' t force yourself to the brink of exhaustion."

" And you have just the remedy for that, I take it?"

" Of course I do."

Her lips crushed into his even as her hands wandered along his muscular body. For a moment tiredness seized him and he almost told her to stop, then he drew down and found almost limitless strength in the bracelet of power stone he wore. The change from lethargy to vitality took Inyx by surprise, but it was a nice surprise.

Her fingers laced through his brown hair and he rolled over and between her inviting legs. The expression on her face as he began the ages- old rhythm added to his energy more than any magic locked within a power stone. They merged and became one in body and soul, using their newly found rapport, soaring, exploring new and exciting realms that finally exploded in a wildly satisfying finale.

Long after Inyx had slipped off into sleep, Lan lay beside the woman, his arms about her gently breathing form. When he fell asleep, the dreams he had feared came. Once more Claybore invaded his innermost thoughts and brought evil visions.

Laughing, the fleshless skull of the dismembered sorcerer taunted him. When Lan Martak awoke in the morning, he had slept but not rested. He had witnessed what Claybore plotted all night long.