My Son, the Wizard

Chapter Twenty-Two

The sorcerer-commander stood there in her boudoir, but he had changed his camel rider’s habit for a white silken robe with a purple sleeveless surcoat, and a turban of cloth-of-gold. He bowed, touching forehead, lips, and breast. “I greet you, O Fairest of the Fair!”

“I am not fair, but dark!” Mama’s voice trembled.

“Hair like a raven’s wings, eyes like those of a gazelle,” the sorcerer breathed. “I am Beidizam, commander of the forces at your gate… as you know.”

Mama came to her feet in one lithe movement, raising a quivering hand to ward him off. “What do you in my chamber, sir?”

“What should a man of youth and vigor wish, in the chamber of a beautiful woman?” Beidizam breathed.

“Sir!” Mama cried. “You insult me!”

“I certainly did not intend to do so.” But Beidizam’s eyes glittered with contempt as well as lust. “I wish only to give praise where it is due, and to establish a feeling of friendliness.”

“Friendliness?” Mama drew back a little more, eyes wary. “Strange words, for the man who besieges my city!”

“Ah, but though we are enemies, surely we may converse in civil tones,” Beidizam protested, “for it has occurred to me that a conference between the two commanders might be of benefit to us both.” The sorcerer raised a palm to forestall her objections. “Do not deny it… I felt your regard as I sat before my tent, reflecting upon the wizardry of the ancient Greeks. For my part, I have watched you on the battlements, and have seen that, although the Witch Doctor and the Black Knight command with you, it is as often your spells that balk my army as theirs. No wonder, when they are cast by a lady of such loveliness!”

“I am only one castellan of three!” Mama objected. “I cannot answer for all of us! You must speak to us in unison, sir, or not at all!” She frowned. “But surely you know that. Why do you seek me out separately?”

“What man would not seek to be alone with such a beauty?” Beidizam stepped forward and caught her hand. “You are a woman of passions, long estranged from your man… and the ways of the Franks are well known, how they make gods of their women, and the women grow willful and wanton thereby. Oh, the attitudes of the Frankish women are famous, I assure you.” He pressed her hand to his lips.

Mama snatched it away. “But you may not know of the loyalty of Frankish women, of our devotion to our husbands and to the chastity our Church so praises!”

“As you do not know of the skills of Muslim men,” the sorcerer said, voice low and husky, “of how intimately we know women, of the heights of ecstasy to which we… “

A dull thud dammed his stream of talk. His eyes glazed for a moment before he fell.

Mama stepped away from the unconscious man, scrubbing her hand against her robe. “Thank Heaven you were here, Sir Guy! It has been many years since I met a man who so disgusted me with his contempt for women!”

“Tapestries have many uses,” Sir Guy said, “and you were quite clever in drawing his attention so that his back was to me.” He tucked the cudgel into his belt, looking down on Beidizam with distaste. “Much though I mislike striking a man from behind, I must admit it is the only way to capture a sorcerer. Still, considering how greatly he wished to take advantage of you, and how little chance he meant to allow you to refuse, I think I can contain my shame.” He pulled a cord from his waist and knelt to tie the sorcerer’s hands and feet.

Mama took a strip of muslin from her dressing table and handed it to him. “Gag him well, Sir Guy. He must not speak until we wish him to… no, not in any language.”

“Help me!” Luco howled. “I’ve got cramps in all five limbs!”

“Oh, for crying out softly,” Matt said in disgust, and pantomimed untying a knot as he chanted,

Luco relaxed with a groan.

“You could say ‘thank you,’ ” Matt said, irritated.

Luco dared to peek. “Is she gone?”

“Yes, she is gone.” Papa frowned. “What are you doing here?”

With a yell, Luco uncoiled, yanking at the trigger.

Papa and Matt both stood, frowning darkly. “Just what in creation do you think you’re doing?” Matt asked.

Luco stared down at his hands, cupped to hold a rifle that wasn’t there. “It’s gone!”

“You always play air assault rifle?” Matt demanded.

“But it was there just a second ago!” Luco cried, looking about him frantically.

“Wizard,” asked Callio, “what is this contraption?”

“There!” Luco lunged.

Matt caught him and spun him around, tripping him. Luco went sprawling and burst into sobs.

Papa looked down at him uncertainly. “I know you have been through an ordeal of the unexpected, Luco … but to be so unmanned as to weep?”

“He’s in withdrawal.” Matt had other problems, though. He moved slowly toward the thief. “How about handing it to me, Callio? Very carefully.”

“Is it truly dangerous?” Callio held the gun up and peered down the barrel.

Matt caught his breath before Callio could hear the gasp rattle and said, with exaggerated calmness,

“Very dangerous. Put it down carefully, Callio. Just lay it flat on the ground.”

The thief lowered the rifle but looked up at Matt, and the wizard could almost hear the gears turning in the thief’s head. If the thing was dangerous and rare, it should have value… and it might give him some control over the wizards…

“You just looked at your own death,” Matt explained. “If you had happened to push the wrong lever or button while you were looking into it, that gadget would have blown your head to bits.”

With an oath, Callio dropped the assault rifle.

Fortunately, it didn’t go off. Matt caught it up with a sigh of relief.

He pointed it toward the hills, examined it quickly, and threw the lever he thought was the safety. Then he squeezed the trigger. When it wouldn’t move, he finally began to relax… but kept firm hold on the stock and barrel. “It’s this little lever right here, Callio. As long as you push it over to this side, the big lever… the trigger… is locked in place, and the rifle can’t hurt anybody.”

“There is only one magazine in his belt, and none in his pockets.” But Papa held up a small flat envelope between thumb and forefinger.

Matt nodded, but only said, “Probably more of them up on that ridge. I’ll have to go scout for them.”

“I shall,” Callio volunteered. “What are they?”

Matt was tempted… one less chore, one less delay… but decided he didn’t trust the thief farther than he could see him. “Thanks, Callio, but they’re dangerous, too… not as dangerous as the machine itself, but dangerous enough.”

“Oh.” Callio shrank back.

It was galling to realize that Matt probably owed his life to the thief’s acquisitive streak… but he reminded himself that it had been an accident. Callio hadn’t intended to save Matt’s life… it was just that, like a magpie, he felt the need to pick up anything that caught his eye.

Papa was seeing to more immediate problems. “Tell us now, Luco… how did you come here?”

The kid snarled something unprintable about something anatomically improbable.

Papa frowned and turned away, making a gesture over the packet, muttering something under his breath.

“Luco,” Matt said softly.

The kid glared up at him, then stared down the barrel of the assault rifle. For a moment he froze stiff; then he relaxed, mouth quirking into contempt. “Who are you trying to kid, Mantrell? You don’t even know how to work that thing… and even if you did, you’re too chicken to use it!”

“Too good, you mean,” Papa said, frowning. “We are not in New Jersey now. There are no police to arrest Matthew for killing you.”

Luco kept his glare locked with Matt’s, but what he saw there seemed to unnerve him.

Matt nodded slowly. “There’s a war on, Luco. Nobody’s going to count one body more or less.”

“You wouldn’t do it, churchboy!”

“Not kill,” Matt agreed, “but remember your debenture… the last line of the rhyme that killed your cramps, remember?”

Luco eyed him with complete suspicion. “What’s debenture?”

“Well, in your case,” Matt said, “it mostly means I can make the cramps come back at a moment’s notice.”

Luco went very still, but his glare was pure hatred. “Always so high-and-mighty! Always thinking you were better than us!”

“No,” Matt said, “but you did.”

With a shout, Luco shot to his feet and charged at Matt, whipping out a switchblade. Matt stepped aside and swung the rifle; the barrel clouted Luco on the back of the head. He fell and went limp, sobbing again.

“He is not that much of a coward, Matthew,” Papa said before he could ask. “It has only been too long since he has taken his drug.”

“Just leave me alone!”

“Yes, leave you alone for five minutes, so you can sniff your powder,” Papa said, and shrugged. “Why not? Come, Matthew… let us look away for a space.”

Matt stared at him as though he were crazy, but Papa took him firmly by the arm and turned him away, pointing at the hills. “As I remember, he was atop that crest that is a little lower than the two to either side of… “

Luco let out a wordless yell of agony, anger, and panic.

Papa turned back to him slowly. “Yes?”

“They’re gone!” Luco was frantically searching every pocket.

“What… these?” Papa held up a handful of the little envelopes.

Luco stared, mouth gaping. Then with a shout of rage, he lunged at Papa.

Papa danced out of his way; Matt stuck out a foot, and Luco went sprawling. The kid thrashed around, eyes wild, gathering himself for another spring.

“I think we know why you did it now,” Papa said with disgust. He tossed a packet to Luco.

Luco pounced on it, ripping it open, pouring the powder out into his palm, and licking it up.

Matt watched, shaking his head, face somber. Once, very long ago, Luco had been his friend. Then he had started listening to the older boys, and had started smoking marijuana. Not too long after that, he had started beating up Matt. His heart twisted with sorrow for the nice kid Luco had once been, the good man he might have grown up to be.

“Perhaps you can heal him here, Matthew,” Papa said softly, “but not back there, and you cannot heal our old universe. Magic does not work, there.”

Matt frowned. “You mean that’s what Luco’s trying to get?”

Luco cursed violently.

Papa turned, raising his eyebrows. “Yes?”

“It didn’t come on, you old swindler! It didn’t do anything!”

“No, nothing,” Papa agreed. “Magic works in this universe, Luco. I took the kick out of that packet. If you want it back, you’ll tell me who brought you here, and how.”

“You bastard!” Luco was trembling now. His eyes were bloodshot. “I’m getting strung out! You said you’d give it back to me… give!”

“Ah, but I’m a storekeeper now.” Papa sat on his heels, just beyond Luco’s reach. “I don’t give anything away.”

Luco bellowed and sprang at him.

Papa leaped to his feet and stepped aside. Luco went sprawling in the dirt and began sobbing again.

“No, you cannot take it from me,” Papa said. “You want something, you pay for it.”

Luco reached for his pocket.

“Not money, no,” Papa said. “Information.”

“All right, all right, anything! Just give me the packet!”

“First the answers. Question One: Where did this new drug come from?”

“From Groldor! Word is he moved in with a gang of his own, a bunch of cavemen with AK-forty-sevens, and put the drug out on the streets!”

“Groldor?” Papa frowned. “I thought the drug boss in our town was Cracker. Didn’t he object?”

“Sure, man! This new stuff, Magic, makes you forget about crack and even heroin!”

“So it satisfies the old cravings and plants a new one,” Papa said. “What did Cracker do?”

“Hit Groldor with everything he had. Word is it was short and hard… by the time the cops got there, only two bodies were left, and they were each holding the gun that shot the other guy. Groldor’s smart and clean.” He shivered, only partly from withdrawal.

“Yes, I remember reading about the ‘gangland duel’ in the newspaper,” Papa said. “So he took the territory, and the gangs decided not to fight him.”

“Why should they, when he cut them in?” Luco asked. “Gave each gang its own stash to sell… but he drew the lines, told ‘em where their selling territory ended and the next gang’s began. The Tics got greedy and jumped the Sangers, but Groldor’s muscles showed up and beat them both into the ground.”

He shivered again. “Bastard knew when and where the Tics were going to jump, even though the Sangers didn’t!”

“Almost as though he could read their minds,” Matt said grimly.

“So nobody tried to poach anybody else’s customers after that?” Papa asked.

“Course not, man! Two Tics died, and died hard!”

“But all the gangs did good business.”

“Fantastic, man! Groldor made ‘em keep the price down, said it’d sell more, and it did! Addict on one dose, just like crack. You feel great for an hour, okay for a day, but when you wake up, you gotta have more!”

“So you’re in good shape long enough to steal enough to pay for tomorrow’s dose,” Papa interpreted. “I

haven’t heard of the police arresting anybody, though, Luco. Why is that?”

Luco laughed. “Stuff’s not on the banned list, man! Nowhere near! I don’t know what it is, but word has it the cop labs can’t find anything but salt! Cops can’t touch ‘em! Can’t touch Groldor, can’t touch his muscles, can’t touch the gangs, can’t touch the buyers!” Luco gave them a shaky grin. “This Groldor is one smart dude.”

Matt shuddered at the hero worship in his voice.

“Only salt, but it takes you to Heaven and dumps you into Hell.” Papa looked up at his son.

Matt nodded grimly. “This Magic is magic, all right, or made by it.”

“Yes, or my spell would not have rendered it useless,” Papa said. “Does that not also mean it was made in Merovence?”

“Made in Merovence, and Nirobus found some way for this Groldor to take it to our universe and keep the magic working.” Matt’s eyes widened. “So the link wasn’t just between universes… it was between me and my old neighborhood! That’s why it was so easy for me to get home! Sorry, Papa… it looks as though I’ve unleashed this monstrosity on all of you!”

“Not you,” Papa snapped, “but someone who exploited you.”

Luco grinned. “Not hard.”

Papa turned back, and for a moment, the look he gave Luco was pure poison. He had to look away for a moment to recover his composure. “If it was made in Merovence, and Nirobus is keeping a channel open, our magic should be able to affect it even in New Jersey.”

Hatred still shone in Luco’s eyes, but the craving was too strong. “All right! The old dude blindfolded me and started me walking. I got dizzy and almost fell down, but he held me up and kept going. When he took the blindfold off, I was up in those hills, and he was pointing at you and handing me the rifle!”

“What old dude is this?” Papa asked, voice soothing.

“The one who dishes out the dope to Groldor! The one with the two-thousand-dollar suits and the five-hundred-dollar hats!”

“What kind of beard?” Matt asked.

“Real neat! No hair on his cheeks, just mustache and jaw! Why the hell do you want to know that?”

“Does he have a name?” Papa asked.

“Nirobus!” the kid snapped.

Matt stood still, feeling a shock wave pass over him. It was one thing to guess correctly but quite another to have that guess confirmed.

“Why, Luco?” Papa asked, very softly indeed. “I was always good to you. Matthew never hurt you, though Heaven knows he had reason. Why did you scare away my customers? Why did you try to kill us?”

“Nobody puts me down on my own block!” Luco snapped.

“Envy and revenge, then. That’s not enough. Why else?”

“Why? Why do you think? ‘Cause this Nirobus guy told us he’d give us a lot of dope if we did it!”

Papa nodded. “And he gave you a good stiff dose before he sent you here, yes?”

“Not a lot, no! Just enough to make the shakes quit! He told me he’d kill me if I took any more before I killed you!”

“Lakshmi was right, then,” Papa sighed. “You are of the hashishim.”

“What you talkin’ about, man?” Luco shouted, on the verge of panic. “I did it, I told you what you wanted! Gimme the Magic!”

“Yes, all right.” Papa sketched a design in the air and chanted in French. Luco stiffened, eyes widening… but the pupils shrank in those eyes, shrank to pinpoints. Then the eyelids closed, and Luco went limp, trembling, but sighing in bliss.

Matt turned away, revolted. Papa joined him. “He is thin, Matthew, and his face is so painfully hollow!”

Matt nodded. “The drug is letting Nirobus drain his life energy any time he wants… slowly and steadily.”

He shook his head, tasting bile. “Sometimes I hate being right.”

“It is even as you said,” Papa sighed. “The new drug showed up in the neighborhood, and suddenly the gangs were no longer fighting each other… they were terrorizing the neighbors instead, feeding on their fear and anger, so that Nirobus could feed on it through them.”

“What did the news say, Papa? Was it happening all over, or just in our neighborhood?”

“All over, Matthew… in all the big cities. The police were delighted at first, because the gangs stopped fighting, and there were fewer muggings. Then the robberies began to increase again, and the police were worse off than ever, because the citizens once again began to live in fear.”

“And they wonder why people move to the suburbs!” Matt shook his head.

Papa glanced at Luco. The trembling had stopped now. His stare was vacant, and his lips were parted in an idiotic grin.

“We must watch him,” Papa said. “So, Matthew. This drug, you think you can neutralize it completely?”

“Sure, same as you did,” Matt said, “but so can Groldor. As soon as the fix stops fixing, he’ll figure out what went wrong and sing the counter-enchantment.”

Papa frowned. “So you say we must immobilize this Groldor before we disenchant the drug?”

“Only sensible thing to do.”

“Will not Nirobus merely send another sorcerer? Or promote one of Groldor’s henchmen?”

“I think the henchmen are just local thugs, hired on,” Matt said slowly, “and sure, Nirobus will send a replacement, but it will take him a while to find one. He may even have to train one. I could be wrong… he could have a dozen sorcerers waiting in reserve… but I think the only ones he has are already assigned and on duty, one in New Jersey, one with the besiegers at Bordestang, and the rest with the Mahdi and his army.”

“Have you reason for thinking this?”

“Only intuition.”

“And intuition is not to be lightly dismissed, even in our home universe, and even less here,” Papa said.

“In any case, we must go home to deal with this Groldor, must we not?”

Matt swallowed, feeling the fear rise. The thought of facing a drug lord with his private army was bad enough, but to have to do it in a universe where he didn’t have his magic to protect him…

Then he remembered that a few spells had sort of worked in New Jersey, and that Nirobus had to keep the magic channel open. He should be able to figure out how to draw on Merovence’s natural forces to make magic work in New Jersey, and if any place ever needed it…

“Yes, Papa. We have to go home.”

Saul had to admit he could look pretty scary when he wanted, and he really wanted to now. When Beidizam awoke, he saw a bearded, longhaired, blade nosed face hovering over him with a gloating grin, lit only by the flickering flames from a brazier below it. The sorcerer stared, frozen with fear for a moment, then turned purple with rage, gargling curses through his gag. His arms lurched and spasmed, trying to gesture… but they were tied securely behind him. “I don’t like men who harass women.” But Saul’s eyes gleamed with anticipation. “I love seeing them punished, though.”

Beidizam froze at the leashed mayhem in Saul’s eyes. The Witch Doctor lifted a poker from the brazier, it glowed cherry red Saul spat on it, listened to the hiss, then shook his head with regret “Not hot enough yet.”

He stuck it back into the coals and turned to the appalled sorcerer, saying, “You see, we have a few questions that need answering. Not that we mean to hurt you, of course… at least, nothing permanent we hope unless it’s absolutely necessary, of course.”

He slid a hand under Beidizam’s robe and squeezed his leg, gently but in exactly the right place. The sorcerer went rigid, cawing with pain. Saul let up instantly, but explained, “That was very gentle… just a demonstration. If I’d really clamped down, you would have been in agony for hours, even after I let go. The ancient Greeks and the modern Arabs have learned a lot about anatomy, but the people farther East know a lot more… at least, in some respects.”

Beidizam bleated incoherent protests through his gag. “I know, that’s pretty crude… just main force, no magic to it.” Saul picked up a thick piece of rope. “This one’s a bit more subtle.” He began to recite nonsense syllables in a sonorous chant, making sure it had both meter and rhyme, as he slowly and carefully began to tie a series of knots in the length of cable. Beidizam’s eyes bulged, he knew the spell, or one much like it. He howled frightened protests through his gag, struggling furiously against his bonds. “Oh, don’t worry,” Saul told him. “This won’t hurt a bit… not me, anyway.”

The door opened, letting sunlight into the chamber, and Mama cried, “Witch Doctor! What do you do? You are a healer, not a destroyer!”

“Well, there’s some truth in that,” Saul allowed, “but nobody knows how to hurt so well as a healer, so…

“No!” Mama stepped up and snatched the rope from his hands. “This man may have sought to dishonor me, but he is a man, after all, not a beast!”

“You’re entitled to your own opinion,” Saul said stiffly.

“Leave torture to they who seek to advance the cause of evil!”

“Just a little one,” Saul pleaded.

Beidizam howled as the muscles in all ten toes suddenly knotted. “That is unworthy of you!” Mama scolded Saul. “We persuade, we do not torture!” She pushed him aside and sat on the hard cot, yanking off Beidizam’s shoes and massaging his toes while she sang in Spanish… a lullaby, a soothing tune.

Beidizam groaned with relief and Saul, standing against the wall, glowered with irritation. “I must apologize for my friend,” Mama said “He was perhaps even more incensed by your overtures than I was.” After all, Beidizam didn’t know who had knocked him out… let him believe it was Saul. “Do not think that I do not appreciate the compliment.” Mama smiled, projecting the image of the demure maiden blushing with pleasure at flattery. “But I spoke truly in telling you of the loyalty of Frankish women, a loyalty that any Muslim would treasure in his own wives. I must remain true to my marriage vows, after all, as my religion requires… by my hope of Heaven, I must! With that Faith to strengthen me, I will keep faith with my husband through all trials. I would not betray him even if I wanted to.” She smiled, letting Beidizam glimpse all the tenderness and desire that thoughts of Ramon could evoke in her. “But I do not want to, because I do love my husband, am more in love with him than when first we wed.”

Beidizam gazed at her, spellbound… literally He couldn’t know the Spanish of her universe, couldn’t know that the song she had sung while she massaged his cramps was really a spell that would transmute his lust into awe… not love, but making him look on her as though she were a statue on a pedestal.

“Come, let me free your mouth… you must be parched.” Mama bent forward to untie his gag. Her nearness made him shiver, but as the gag came away, he turned on his side, coughing, working his mouth. All sympathy, Mama held out a goblet. He sipped, then remembered that he was in the house of his enemy and muttered a charm as he gazed into the wine. “It will not change color,” Mama assured him. “There is no drug in it, no poison. That would be rude treatment indeed for a guest! And our guest you shall be, for I shall see you housed and served according to your station, as soon as you are recovered from Saul’s harshness.” She glanced up at Saul, irritated. “It was most unkind of you, really!”

“I am covered with rue,” Saul said, all repentance.

“He is overly concerned for my safety,” Mama explained, “and was overcome with anger, that is why he acted so rashly.” Then she frowned “But it must be extremely wearying, coming so far to assault a town that is no threat to you! He must be quite a villain who set you to the task.”

Beidizam stiffened “Our Mahdi is no villain!”

Mama stared “Was it the Mahdi who sent you to besiege us, then?”

“It was!” Beidizam exclaimed, then saw her skepticism and relented. “Of course, I was one of those who raised him up to be Mahdi in the first place… but it is nonetheless he who commands!”

“Commands in war,” Mama qualified. “Will not the real sage govern, when the Mahdi is done conquering?”

“Sage?” Beidizam grinned, confidence restored… he knew something she didn’t know after all. “Say rather, the schemer! Yes, Nirobus seeks to conquer all the world, and will use the religion of Allah to that end as easily as any other. All he cares is that all be unified under one rule.”

“His?” Mama asked. “Why not? He can be sure of his own motives, at least, and can trust himself.”

“Can you?” Mama asked “As long as I do his bidding, yes.” Beidizam shrugged. “And why should I not? He will give me power over a fifth of the world, I will govern with only Nirobus himself above me! Why should I not do as he bids me?”

Mama frowned “And what will you do with this fifth of the world?”

“Be sure that there is justice for all men, no matter their rank,” Bei dizam told her. “Be sure that there is peace… that no man raises his hand against another, or steals his wife or goods, that every merchant can go safely from Ibile to Lacuna, or even Allustria, with no fear of bandits.”

“Is that all?” Mama smiled as though at a shared secret “Will there be no wealth, no luxury, no harem?”

“Well, of course ” Beidizam grinned “The ruling of a fifth of the world is a heavy burden. Will I not deserve some comforts to console me?”

Saul snorted. Mama frowned at him, but he only said, “Rank has its privileges, huh?”

“But of course.” Beidizam returned the gloating grin that Saul had given him so shortly before. “What is he like, this Nirobus?” Mama asked “Fair in his ludgments, mild in his speech and manners, and courteous to all,” Beidizam told her. “He is a sage in his way, but is far more practical than that.”

“Young or old?”

“Mature,” Beidizam said judiciously “His hair and beard are gray, as are his eyes. To speak truly, he looks more like a Frank than a Moor.”

“Does he indeed?” Mama turned thoughtful. “Be sure he is no traitor, though!” Beidizam said quickly.

“He could not be a Frank… his Arabic is too perfect, his Berber too homely!”

But Mama had considerable experience in the learning and teaching of other languages, and knew that educated foreigners frequently spoke a language better than those born to it. She didn’t say so, of course, only smiled and changed the subject. “I must go now, Lord Beidizam, but I shall send men to conduct you to chambers far more pleasant than this.”

Beidizam frowned. “Must I remain your prisoner, then?”

“I would prefer to think of you as a guest,” Mama said, “but yes, you must remain with us… and I must ask you to speak to no one, most especially not to recite a spell.”

Beidizam gave her a sly grin. “I will not promise you that… nor should you trust me if I did!”

“As you say,” Mama sighed, and sang a little song. Saul frowned, recognizing the language for Latin, but understood only one word, repeated several times. “A pleasant ditty,” Beidizam told her “Is it your farewell for me?”

“Only until noon tomorrow.” Mama rose from the cot. “I shall visit you once every day… we shall eat the midday meal together, unless I am called away. My servants shall make you comfortable I trust your stay with us shall be a pleasant one.”

“As pleasant as it can be, when I cannot be about the work for which I burn,” Beidizam said sourly.

“Nevertheless, it is better than the company of your bloodthirsty friend there. May I hope that you will take him with you when you leave?”

“Of course Saul, please come with me.” Mama went to the door and passed out. Saul paused for one last murderous shark-smile at Beidizam, then went after Mama.

As he closed the door, he said, “Nice work. You did a great job of charming him… literally.”

“Why, thank you, Saul,” Mama said, with a polite flutter of the eyelashes. “But I should take no credit for it… it is more a matter of talent than of accomplishment, you know.”

“Well, yes, but you certainly had the skill to use that talent.”

Behind them inside the cell, Beidizam grinned in the ruddy light of the brazier. The foolish Franks had left him bound, yes, but with his lips free! There was no gag, and did a sorcerer ever need more than words to escape a prison? Softly, he began to chant an ancient Arabic verse.