The Gods Awaken

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

For several weeks all was peaceful aboard the Nepenthe. The ocean was calm, the wind a sailor's dream. Brutar, the aptly-named captain of the ship, eased off on his men and the crew became less surly and settled into a somewhat more orderly routine.

The sea teemed with life. They sailed through enormous schools of fish, some of which were quite exotic and so colorful it was like sailing through a magical artist's pallet. Reds and greens and yellows flowing by in an endless stream.

Once they saw a huge crocodile chasing the fish and the colors spurted in all directions as they fled its gaping jaws.

The birds became so used to the Nepenthe that they grew quite tame-settling on the rails and mast spars within easy reach. The sailors thought this a good omen and started feeding them by hand.

It became a common but always comical sight to see a burly, scarred ex-pirate cooing over a seahawk as he tenderly fed it bits of biscuit and salt-beef.

Leiria and Jooli kept busy exercising the young Kyranian soldiers who had joined the expedition. Leiria and Palimak had hand-picked the lads, being sure to include Renor and Sinch who had proved themselves in many battles and were corporals now. She'd also brought along Sergeant. Hamyr, a grizzled old warrior with much experience to keep all the lads in line.

There'd been so many volunteers that Safar had assembled the entire army to console all those being left behind. And to remind them that the safety of their families and friends was at stake.

Safar suspected the sight of the twenty crack soldiers being put through their paces by the two magnificent warrior women had a little to do with the more friendly attitude of Captain Brutar and his crew.

Not only was the Kyranian equipment the best they'd seen, but the fighting tricks that the Kyranians displayed were enough to give any potential mutineer pause.

And, of course, there was the ever-present airship hovering over the Nepenthe. Some of the sailors had witnessed Biner and his circus folk in battle in the past-raining death from the sky-and word soon spread that they were to be feared even more than the soldiers.

Every once in a while Safar trotted Khysmet out of the comfortable stable he'd had specially constructed for him. First he'd have the men create a small arena on the main deck, covering the wood with a thick layer of sand to make the footing easier for the stallion. Then, with the help of Leiria and a few of the soldiers, he'd put on a thrilling one-horse cavalry display.

Weaving and bobbing in the saddle, while wielding a wooden sword. Ducking completely beneath Khysmet and coming up on the other side, like a warrior from the great plains of Esmir. Or rearing the stallion back onto his hind legs and letting him paw the air with his steel-shod hooves as if Khysmet were fighting off attacking infantrymen.

It always made for a good show and further strengthened the wary respect the sailors had for the Kyranians.

After awhile Safar felt confident enough to leave the Nepenthe and spend some time with his old friends aboard the airship. Sometimes Palimak came with him, sometimes Leiria or Jooli. But he always made certain that at least two of his commanders remained on the ship to keep watch on the seamen.

Traveling in the airship took him back to the carefree days of his youth when Methydia had rescued him from the desert. He recalled those times while scudding through empty skies like a cloud, watching the world pass beneath his feet. Standing at the rail, looking down at the small, sea-bound figures aboard the Nepenthe. Or simply sprawling on the deck, surrounded by friends and talking over old times and adventures.

The circus folk never forgot their true life's purpose, which was entertainment. They were always rehearsing or trying out new tricks. Sometimes Safar would join them and for an hour or so he could imagine he was one of them again. Sailing across Esmir, staging shows at festivals, fairs, small towns …

wherever the winds took them.

It was only during these impromptu moments that Safar could forget the nature of his mission and the heavy responsibility he had to all those who'd agreed to help him. But more than anything, it made him forget how alone he was.

It was a state of being that was entirely his own fault. Ever since his escape from the spellworld he'd kept a careful emotional distance from everyone. Especially from Palimak and Leiria. He made sure he was never alone with either one of them. He wasn't certain why he found this necessary, except that he was edgy about engaging in talk that went beneath the surface.

Safar could tell they were both a little bewildered by this, although they hadn't had a chance as yet to think on it and be hurt.

Sometimes, late at night, he'd think about his dilemma. Pick and poke at it like a child toying with a small wound.

Oh, he loved them both, there was no doubt about that. And there was nothing he wanted more than to embrace his son and be a father to him once again. Or to draw Leiria close and seek her kisses and warm comfort again as he had so many years before when they had been lovers.

But for some reason he felt awkward with them-no, not awkward. That was definitely the wrong word.

What was it then?

And then one night the answer came to him: He felt as if he'd somehow betrayed them.

But why? This made no sense. He'd never done anything to harm them. And would never dream of doing so.

Or would he?

When he thought that, he became fearful. Alien to himself. As if there were another part of him-a part he'd never known about before-that lurked in the shadows … waiting. To do what, he couldn't say.

Except this other part had no love for Palimak and Leiria. And did not want the best for them.

As soon as he thought that he suddenly became very calm. The strangeness vanished and he drank down his wine, feeling whole again.

Odd, how the mind played tricks on itself when the wine was deep and the hour late.

Other people noted Safar's forced solitude. One of them was Jooli.

She found herself powerfully attracted to this strange man with eyes as blue as the seas they sailed upon.

Back at the Kyranian fortress she'd seen the young women approach him, but to no avail.

At the time it had puzzled her that Safar was able to resist their advances. On the other hand, she didn't sense that he preferred men or boys over women.

Not that this would've seemed odd to her. In Syrapis, there were many men who quoted the old saying:

"Women are for babies, boys are for pleasure."

Just as there were many women who sang the merry little tune: "It is our duty, misses,/ to breed amighty army;/ but we save our best kisses/ for our sisters who bliss us;/ and know all men to bebarmy!"

Since they'd met, Jooli had given Safar no indication of her interest. After all, it would be unseemly for a royal person to express such sentiments-unless she was certain they'd be returned.

However, during the early weeks of the voyage, when she'd consumed more wine than normal, Jooli had found herself pacing the deck outside her stateroom as restless as a she-tiger in season.

She kept thinking how handsome Safar was. The dark, curly hair. The boyish grin. The startling blue eyes beneath mysterious brows. The ripened lips. The strong neck and torso. And those cursedly graceful legs, revealed when he carelessly crossed them and his tunic rode high.

Adding even stronger spice was the magnetic aura of his wizardry. She'd never met anyone who possessed such powers. To embrace a man like that would be like embracing a storm. Witch joined to wizard loin to loin. The images were a sleep-disturbing aphrodisiac of the worst sort.

One night she encountered Leiria on the deck, who was doing a bit of pacing of her own. Immersed in her own hot-blooded thoughts, Jooli at first didn't recognize the similarities of Leiria's symptoms.

Casual talk soon turned more personal. "I'm not one who impresses easily," Jooli said. "But I've certainly grown to admire Lord Timura."

"There's much to admire," Leiria agreed. "Good people are never disappointed when they come to know him better. You can't go wrong if he gives you his friendship."

Jooli nodded. "I thought as much." She hesitated, then, "I'll be blunt," she said. "Woman to woman, I find it strange that no one shares his bed. Is he some sort of priest who has taken a vow of celibacy?"

Leiria smiled. "Nothing like that," she said.

Jooli frowned. "He has no wife?"

"No."

"No one he's betrothed to?"

"Never in his life."

Jooli hissed with exasperation. "What's wrong, then?" she asked. "Every man of his rank and prestige I've ever known had whole harems to pleasure them."

Leiria's eyes took on a faraway look as she thought about this. Absently, she said, "Safar could have that as well." Then she nodded, as if coming to a conclusion. "But he's definitely a one-woman man."

Then Jooli noticed moisture forming in her friend's eyes when Leiria added, "He found that woman a long time ago. But she died."

"If you mean Methydia," Jooli said, "I've heard that tale from the circus folk. But I also got the idea that although he loved her-and she loved him-it wasn't a permanent thing. An older woman … a sorcerous mentor … a passing fancy for the two of them."

"That's true," Leiria said. Her voice was soft, memory going back over the years to her first meeting with Safar. Then, so faint Jooli could bare hear her: "Although I didn't realize that in the beginning."

Leiria's eyes hazed over as her mind flashed back to that time so many years ago…

When Leiria awoke she found herself nestled in the crook of Safar's arm. Ever so gently, he wastrying to disentangle that arm. Feeling warm and loving, she smiled at him. Pulling him closer,wanting to give him more of what they'd enjoyed all night. But Safar was tense. She sensed thathe felt like he was betraying another.

Safar disengaged from her politely, but firmly. "I have duties to attend to," he said.

At first Leiria pouted. Then she giggled and got up, saying, "I mustn't be selfish and take all your strength, my lord."

Faint as his answering smile was, Leiria loved it. The intensity of her feelings surprised her. Not long before she'd been the warrior concubine of King Protarus. How could she fall in love with another so quickly? Embarrassed, and confused, Leiria arose hastily and pulled on her clothes.

But she couldn't help but comment, letting words flow without guard. "You called out another woman's name in the night," she said.

Leiria made certain her tones were light, but she couldn't hide the hurt. She saw Safar's eyes flicker, sensing her pain. And she loved him all the more because of that.

Safar said, "I'm sorry."

Leiria forced an oh-so-casual shrug. "I don't mind," she said. "It's good that your heart is faithful."

She kept her head down to hide emotion, pretending to concentrate on her harness and weapons. She said, "The king has ordered me to comfort you and guard you with my life."

Then Leiria raised her head and she couldn't help revealing the tears welling in her eyes. "The king orders," she said with deeply felt conviction, "but I do it gladly."

She straightened, every inch a royal warrior. She said, with all the conviction she could muster: "I will guard you and I will be this other woman for you for as long as you like."

Leiria almost took her leave with that. But she found there was one more thing it was important for her to say. "Perhaps someday," she said, desperately fighting to keep her voice from trembling, "It will be my name you speak instead of … hers."

And then Leiria fled.

Leiria came back to the present, feeling Jooli's eyes on her. "The woman's name was Nerisa," she said.

"Safar loved her and she died tragically."

She shrugged. "What's more tragic is that Safar believes it was his fault. Just as he thinks that he is to blame for Methydia's death."

"Is there any truth to it?" Jooli asked.

"None at all," Leiria said. "But Safar's like that. He takes on guilt faster than anyone I've ever met."

Jooli eyed her. "You're in love with him, too," she said.

Leiria blushed. She said, low, "Yes. We were … lovers once."

"And he sent you away," Jooli asked, "because of his guilt?"

Leiria wiped an eye. "No, I sent him away," she said. "Or I left, at any rate. But it was because of his guilt, yes."

"And now you wished you hadn't?" Jooli asked.

Leiria only nodded.

"What are you going to do about it?" Jooli prodded.

Leiria shook her head. "Nothing," she said. "What's done is done."

Jooli put a hand on her shoulder. "Sister," she said, "thank you for keeping me from making a big mistake."

She looked Leiria straight in the eye. "Let me return the favor by giving you a word of advice. You are wrong, sister. You were wrong then and are wrong now. And when the right time comes, be sure to correct the mistake. And you'll both be happier for it."

Then she turned and walked back to her cabin. Leiria stared after her, too surprised to answer.

"Something's wrong with my father," Palimak said.

He was lying on his bunk, arms behind his head, the two Favorites perched on his chest nibbling sugar rolls and cheese.

Gundara belched. "Of course there's something wrong with him," he said. "He's a master, isn't he?

Masters always have worms in their brains." Another belch. "Present company not included, of course."

"Speaking of worms," Gundaree said. "I found a nice fat one in a biscuit the other day. It was dee-lish-shous! Better than old cheese."

"You're such a disgusting thing," Gundara sneered. "How can you stand yourself?"

"Worms, worms, worms," Gundaree said.

"Stop it!" Gundara shouted. "You're making me sick!"

"Big fat juicy ones," Gundaree continued. "Worms in your sweets. Worms in your sugar buns. Worms, worms, worms!"

"Shut up, you!"

"Don't you say shut up! You shut up!"

"Shut up, shut up, shut-Ouch!"

Gundara rubbed his backside. Palimak had just given it a stinging flick with his finger. "Why'd you do that?" he whined. "I wasn't the one talking about worms."

"And I didn't say shut up first! You-ouch!"

Now it was Gundaree's turn to rub his tender behind.

"Do I have your attention now, boys?" Palimak asked.

The twins muttered, "Yes, Little Master," while rubbing their rears.

"Now, I was talking about my father," Palimak said. "There's something wrong, but I can't figure out what it is. Ever since he got back, he's been acting … well … I don't know…" He shrugged … "Strange, I guess."

"Seems the same to me," Gundara said.

"Me too," Gundaree agreed.

"Why are you asking us, Little Master?" Gundara wanted to know. "We don't care how people act.

People are people, which is pretty stupid."

"Yeah," Gundaree said. "People are sometimes stupid one way. Sometimes stupid another. So it's all the same to us. Stupid is stupid. What more is there to know?"

Palimak sighed, trying not to become impatient. He fed them more sugar buns and cheese to shut them up.

"I was talking about magic," he said. "Could something have happened to him in that spellworld that somehow affected him?"

Gundara shrugged. "Sure, it could have," he said. "But it didn't."

"How do you know?" Palimak asked.

Gundaree snickered. "There he goes, just like people. Acting stupid."

"I'm also part demon," Palimak reminded him.

Gundara belched loudly. "What's the difference?" he said. "Stupid with fingers, or stupid with talons. Still stupid."

"All right," Palimak said. "I'm being stupid. But if I'm so stupid, how am I supposed to know unless somebody tells me."

Gundaree giggled. "That's our job," he said. "Stay with you always and tell you when you're being stupid."

"Not that you ever listen," Gundara said. "Lots of times we say, a€?Run, Palimak, run! Run for your life!'"

He gave Palimak an admonishing look. "But you don't run. And someday they're going to catch you.

Mark my words!"

"I'm marking them," Palimak said. "But you still didn't answer my question. Why am I being stupid about my father?"

Gundaree gave a long and weary sigh. "Because, Little Master," he said, "if something magic was going on we'd know it, right? And so would you. You're a wizard!"

"But you're both better at that kind of thing than I am," Palimak said. "Much better. The witch who made you gave you heightened powers so you could protect your masters." He pointed at the door. "Why, if something that meant me harm was walking toward this at cabin this very minute, you'd both know. And warn me. Right?"

Gundara shuddered. "Something's coming, Little Master!" he suddenly squealed.

"Stop fooling around," Palimak said, getting irritated. "I'm serious about this!"

"And so are we!" Gundaree cried. "Look out, Little Master, here it comes!"

And at that moment Palimak heard a heavy body thump against his cabin door.