The Crusading Wizard

CHAPTER 21

“What are you doing?” Balkis cried, thrashing about in his arms. “She will need our help against his magic!”

“Not anymore she won’t!” Matt made it through the portal before the screaming started. He bolted across the square, then set Balkis down in the shadow of a marble-fronted building, but it wasn’t far enough—she could still hear the screams, hoarse and ragged. ‘She clapped her hands over her ears and sat trembling.

“Only what he deserved,” Matt reminded her. “You couldn’t know how many people he had butchered, how many he had weakened as the horde charged down, how many he had tortured.”

But Balkis clasped her head, still trembling.

Matt had to bring her out of it. He knelt as the screams faded and said, voice low but insistent, “Prince Marudin. While you have the ring, recite the spell! Free the prince, wherever he is, and you’ll weaken the horde enough so that they might retreat!”

“Do you really think so?” Balkis held out the ring on a trembling finger and began to recite once again in Allustrian—obviously one of the spells Idris had taught her. Matt doubted it had been invented solely for djinn, and wondered what kind of compulsions to obedience Idris had dealt with.

He caught the gist of the spell and could only admire the crafting of the verse—lines of alternating meters with an intricate rhyme scheme, ending in an imperative. No wonder it had freed Lakshmi from the sorcerer’s power … but bound her to Balkis’ spell, with deadly results.

Matt leaned closer. “Lakshmi, too! Command the ring to free Lakshmi, too!”

“I have,” Balkis gasped. “I should have before.”

“Believe me,” Matt said with total sincerity, “it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference.”

Balkis looked up at him with naked, vulnerable gratitude, then looked beyond him, horrified. “She comes!”

Matt turned to look. Lakshmi came striding across the square, long black veil whipping about her legs, angry eyes staring out above the cloth.

“It’s done!” Matt held up his hands to slow her down. “Princess, he’s dust! You’ve had a revenge you didn’t need!”

“Any who seek to enthrall the djinn merit revenge!” Lakshmi snapped. She looked past him and saw the little cat, now black and white, cowering in a comer of the marble. Instantly Lakshmi’s rage evaporated, and she knelt, reaching out a hand and crooning. “Ah, poor mite! Did I so afright you, then? Surely I had not meant to do so! Do not pity that old monster, for he suffered only what he had given, and that much only by his own magic come back upon him, for I turned around the spells that he had cast on others, so that they struck him. Nay, poor child, come hither, for I owe you only gratitude, never harm!”

Balkis began to relax. She stepped forward, nose twitching warily to sniff the djinna’s hand.

“Yes, I owe you my freedom, sweet child,” Lakshmi said, voice soft as velvet. “Never would I seek to harm you. Your enemies perhaps, as I have smitten my own, but never you!”

“I told her that last command she gave you didn’t make any difference,” Matt said, “that if she’d freed you to do as you wished, you’d have done just as you did.”

“Be sure of it.” But there was no anger in Lakshmi’s voice, only gentle reassurance. “He gained what he had given, no more. Indeed, left to my own devices, I should have done far worse.”

Balkis thawed enough to step forward, rubbing her head against the princess’ hand. Lakshmi murmured with pleasure, stroking the black and white fur, then rubbing gently behind the ears. Balkis raised her head, eyes closing for a minute of pleasure, and Matt knew the two had made friends again.

Lakshmi took up the cat’s paw, studying the emerald on her foreleg with a frown. “I cannot take it from you, though dearly I wish I could.”

“Really?” Matt stepped up to look more closely. “Why not?”

“See how its band has tightened to fit her—it knows it is hers now. Never shall she be separated from this gem while she lives, unless she comes across a magic greater than her own.”

“But the old priest’s magic must have been greater than hers!”

“You gave her a wand,” Lakshmi reminded him. “There is great power of magic within her, and the wand strengthened it tenfold. Nay, now the ring is hers by right, and I can think of few I should trust with it more.” She gave Balkis a rather bleak smile. “Or will you, too, seek to command me, little cat?”

“Never!” Balkis mewed indignantly.

Lakshmi laughed. “I believe you, as I would believe few mortals—but then, you are somewhat more than mortal yourself, are you not?”

Balkis gave a mew of doubt.

“Be sure that you are.” Lakshmi reached down to stroke the cat. “A thousand thanks for this fair rescue, sweet one! Three wishes shall be yours when this turmoil is done—three wishes and more, if I can free my Marudin!”

“He may be free already,” Matt said. “While we were waiting for you, she chanted a spell to give him his liberty, no matter where he was.”

“Let us hope the ring had so much power as that,” Lakshmi said fervently. “If indeed it has, we shall be ever in your debt, little cat.”

Balkis looked up wide-eyed. Then her look turned calculating.

Lakshmi laughed and scooped her up to hold opposite her face. “Aye, think what you can do with such a friendship, think of the wishes for which you shall ask, ponder long and carefully—for once a wish has come true, you shall have to live with it.”

Matt found that even a cat’s face could develop a thoughtful frown.

“Come, now!” Lakshmi said, all business again. “Let us take to the sky and see what effect this action has wrought upon the battle we passed on our way hither! If the horde was winning because of the magic of its sorcerers, then the slaying of this dotard should have turned the tide in the Caliph’s favor!” She began to grow, catching up Matt as she went.

In minutes they were high above the battlefield, and sure enough, the horde was retreating. The Caliph’s troops followed, but cautiously, wary that the barbarians might turn their own tactic upon them—retreating at full speed, waiting until the defenders had broken ranks to pursue, letting them get close, then suddenly turning on them and cutting them to shreds. Knowing that, the Muslims advanced without breaking their battle line.

“I see him!” Lakshmi cried. “Marudin! He rises above the battle, he fights for the Caliph!”

Sure enough, Matt could see a huge turban growing huger as it both rose and swelled, with a burgeoning set of shoulders beneath it. Prince Marudin rose high, scooping boulders from thin air and hurling them against his erstwhile masters.

“I must go to help him! Down, you two, where it is safe!” Lakshmi dove back toward the city. Matt cried out, then clung for dear life. So did Balkis—sinking her claws into Matt and yowling every foot of the way.

Lakshmi shrank as she descended, so that it seemed to be only a normal-sized woman who set them down in a back alley, then leaped into the sky again.

“Impetuous, isn’t she?” Matt tried to hide his shaking by kneeling down and holding out a hand to Balkis. “Care to ride for the first few blocks?”

Balkis spat and raised a claw.

“I know—I wouldn’t trust anybody’s arms after a trip like that, either.” Matt rose again, leaned against a wall for a minute, then started down the alley toward the little square at its end.

There were women around the well, but their water jars were mere excuses—they were all chatting with excitement about having seen a djinna descending toward the city, disappearing, then flying away from it. There was speculation about Lakshmi being a weapon of the Caliph in the battle the barbarians were even then fighting, some guesses as to why she might have come otherwise, more guesses as to why she would have left so quickly, but no real information. Matt kept walking, but glanced back—Balkis was just coming out of the alley, with seemingly lofty indifference to the world of mere humans, but Matt was sure that if the women mentioned anything about the missing children, the cat would know it in an instant.

He crossed the square and went up the opposite alley; Lakshmi had dropped them at the western gate, so as long as he headed east, he should come closer to the city’s center. As he reached the end he heard an attack—yowl and turned back to see a young woman in black veil and white under-robe seem to sprout from the pavement. A huge tomcat let out a caterwaul of dismay and sprinted for cover. Balkis allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as she shrank back into the form of a cat.

Matt came to an actual street, not another mere alley, and followed it north until he came to another street that met it at something resembling a right angle. He turned east again and kept going. There was gossip and speculation all around him—from porters carrying loads, merchants engaged in heated discussion on street corners, women walking along chatting with one another. The topic was the battle, and that the djinna must have been a sign that it was coming closer to the city. Speculation was rife—what would the barbarians do if they lost? Would they take revenge on the citizens? Or would they ride out the eastern gate and never be seen again? The consensus was that they would barricade themselves within the city and defend it against the Caliph’s siege.

No one mentioned two small kidnapped children, or anything that would give the barbarians leverage against the djinn.

Every now and again Matt glanced back and saw the little black and white cat trotting along, weaving her way between people’s feet, ears pricked up, listening with interest. He was quite sure he had the right cat—you didn’t see too many felines with an emerald ring around one foreleg. The sight was reassuring, but Matt doubted she’d learn anything he hadn’t.

Suddenly, the cat picked up its pace, running to catch Matt’s leg with a claw. “Ouch!” he said, looking down, but Balkis ducked into an alley and looked back to meow at him. Matt took the hint and stepped after her, but the little cat ducked behind a mound of trash and began to grow. Fur became cloth, and her body stretched in some very odd ways. Matt turned his back, feeling queasy and watching the street.

“I have had a thought.”

Matt looked down at the black-veiled teenager, marveling at the way she had arranged the extra cloth in the white robe to veil her head as well as her body—probably just as well, considering that the veil was rather translucent. “I’m interested. What thought?”

“That this ring is tied to djinn.” Balkis held up her right fist. “Perhaps it can show us the path to a djinni.”

“You mean a very small djinni?” Matt felt a burst of excitement. “It’s worth a try. Got a spell handy?”

“I do not know one,” Balkis confessed.

“Let’s see what I can do.” Matt stared at the ring as he searched his memory, and came up with:

“Of course, it’s tuned to you now,” Matt explained. “Probably doesn’t do any good for me to recite it.”

“As you say.” Balkis stared at the emerald and recited the verse. When she was done, she said, “It grew warm as I spoke, but now it cools.”

Matt wondered about crystal matrices and computers. “It was absorbing the spell and adding a new … call it a sensitivity. Try it for direction. Tell it who you’re looking for. Why don’t you start with Prince Marudin? At least we know which direction he’s in.”

“It will do for a test,” Balkis said, doubt in her voice. “Ring, show me where Prince Marudin flies!” She turned slowly toward the west. The ring began to glow, brighter and brighter as it came to line up with the western gate. Then, as Balkis continued turning, the glow faded.

“It works!” An idea lodged in Matt’s mind. “Try the same thing with Lakshmi.”

“But we know she fights beside her prince!” Balkis objected.

“Yes, but in finding her, it might become sensitized to the two of them, and when you combine them …”

“Which their children have!” Balkis nodded. “I begin to understand why I was sent to you. Ring, waken your inner light when you are nearest the Princess Lakshmi!” She began to tum backward. Again the ring glowed most brightly when it pointed due west, then faded as she went on to the north.

“We can’t program it any better than that,” Matt said. “Try for the kids now.”

“Program?” Balkis looked up, alert and hungry for knowledge.

“Telling it what to do,” Matt explained. “Try.”

“Ring, glow when you discover the direction in which the children of Princess Lakshmi and Prince Marudin lie!” Balkis commanded, and held the ring out at arm’s length as she turned again. It began to glow as she neared north, glowed more and more brightly until, when she pointed it toward the northeast, it glowed so brightly that Matt marveled it didn’t burn her finger—but she seemed to feel nothing, only kept turning. The glow started to dim, and died away by the time she pointed due east.

“Northeast,” Matt said, musing. “Well, that’s what we had guessed—but it helps to have it confirmed.”

“It helps mightily to know they are still alive!” Balkis said fervently.

Matt looked down at her, surprised, and saw a very real dread there in her eyes—one she hadn’t dared recognize until she had proven it baseless.

“Yes,” Matt said slowly, “that is good to know.” Suddenly, he wished the ring were sensitive to his own kids. He had never let himself consider the possibility that they might be dead, but he knew the reputations of kidnappers. As soon as he had some time alone, he’d have to try a scry.

“What lies in the northeast?” Balkis asked.

Matt shrugged. “The Mongols’ homeland, and Arjasp.”

“Nay, there is more than that.” Balkis frowned. “There must be, for I feel it pulling at me when the ring glows brightest.”

Matt stared down at her, wondering, and was about to offer an idea when a crash sounded in the distance. They turned, staring down the broad avenue, and saw that the western gate had boomed open, spilling barbarian horsemen into the city from which they had ventured to attack the Arabs.

“They are routed!” Balkis cried. “The Caliph has won!”

“That is good,” Matt said. “But this isn’t a good time for a pretty girl to be watching, veiled or not. How about stepping back into the side street?”

“Wisely thought.” Balkis retreated behind the comer of the wall, and Matt stepped over between the street and the girl. A minute later a black-and-white cat strolled out between his ankles, tail twitching as she watched the warriors come trotting down the broad avenue. As they passed, Matt caught snatches of conversation, liberally interspersed with cursing.

“That traitorous djinni!” one warrior brayed. “How dare he turn upon us in the thick of battle!”

“It was the djinna who bewitched him!”

“Nay,” cried a third soldier, “for he turned upon us ere she came!”

“Flay the sorcerers!” bawled a fourth as his foam-flecked pony rode by Matt. “They made him tum upon us! They called the djinna to aid him!”

“Cannot our own sorcerers hold the Arab magicians at bay?” howled a fifth. “Let them practice their spells upon one another!”

“Nay!” cried a sixth. “Let us practice our archery and our lancing upon them!”

“I don’t like that kind of talk,” Matt told Balkis. “Once they start shooting magicians, who knows where they’ll stop?”

Balkis mewed agreement.

Then came a barbarian on a tall horse, far taller than the Mongolian ponies, though his features were those of the khans. His armor was gorgeous, his helmet chased with gold, and his temper absolutely foul. “I shall have their heads!” he bellowed. “What sort of incompetent sorcerers has the high priest given me, that they cannot keep control of their own djinn—nay, even with the very lamp that held him!”

“At least they kept the five lesser spirits leashed,” called a younger and somewhat less splendidly costumed man beside him.

“Only five!” the general roared. “Only five minor djinn against two Marids! How can they think to preserve us from such might?”

A man in midnight-blue robes rode behind him, protesting, “It is a spell beyond our ken, O Khan! Only the Arab priest himself could counter it!”

Then they were gone, riding on down the street, but Matt felt claws in his calf. “Ouch!” He looked down, ready to scold—and saw the emerald glowing, a glow that faded even as he watched. Balkis looked up at him and meowed impatiently.

Matt took the hint and lifted her up to his shoulder. She set the leg with the ring under his headcloth to hide it and said into his ear so that no one else would hear, “It glowed when that sorcerer passed! Can he be a spirit disguised?”

“Possible,” Matt said slowly, “but it probably just means that he still controls five djinn.”

“If that is his specialty,” Balkis said, “perhaps he knows where to find two very small djinni.”

“He might at that,” Matt said, following her thought about Lakshmi’s children. “Excellent idea, Balkis. Let’s just saunter along after that crew.” He strolled down the street, not seeming to hurry, but actually eating up the ground at a very good pace. He was impressed with Balkis’ intelligence. Obviously she had more going for her than a saturation in magic.

“Perhaps they are bound to the mosque,” Balkis offered.

“I was kind of thinking that, too,” Matt said. “After all, if they’re going to blame it on the old high priest, they’ll want to chew him out right away.”

“And they will find him dead.”

“Should be an interesting sight,” Matt said. “Let’s go have a look.”

They arrived minutes too late—the general and his aides were boiling back out of the mosque, faces gray. “Slain!” one cried.

“I have rarely seen so many wounds in one man,” cried another.

“Aye, even in battle.” The general shuddered. “And his guards burned to cinders! What can have happened here?”

“Magic,” said his chief aide, his face grim. “Magic far stronger than his—but how can such be possible?”

They were silent, considering the question. Then one warrior offered, “Ahriman is displeased with us.”

“As well he might be, for this loss in battle!” But the general now looked frightened.

“Shall we abandon the city?” another aide asked. “We can slay all its people as offerings to Ahriman before we go.”

“There is not that much time, if we are to retreat,” the general said, scowling, “and if we are to stay, we shall need the services of the people. Let them live; we shall hold them hostage in case the Caliph besieges us.”

“But should we stay or go?”

“Our sorcerer has not come out,” the general said grimly. “No doubt he seeks to placate Ahriman, to learn what the god wishes of us. Let us wait to hear his answer.”

Matt stepped back into the shadow of an alley and told Balkis, “That means we have to take him out the back way, if there is one.”

“And make one if there is not,” the cat agreed.

Matt lifted her off his shoulder and down to the ground. “You stay here while I go in and bring him out.” He slipped the wand out from under his robe. “Use this if I don’t.”

“Use it yourself,” the cat snapped. “If you would not beard the high priest without me to help, you should not dare his minion!”

Matt sighed. “Everybody’s gotta get in on the act. Okay, we saunter around to the back of the mosque as though we’re going home. Ready?”

“Lead on,” Balkis replied.

Matt stepped out and strolled down the street, hoping the officers would be so involved in trying to fix blame that they wouldn’t see him.

Behind him, he heard a shout.