The Sorcerer_s Skull

CHAPTER TWO

" I' ll pay the entry fees for you and your friend," offered Huw. " And if you want to journey back to Lummin with Oliana and me, we' d consider it a rare privilege."

Lan heard the sincerity in the man' s voice, but he saw more than friendship in Oliana' s eyes. Such an arrangement could mean only trouble to him. The feeling of obligation wore off quickly, especially if Huw caught sight of Oliana' s real interest in Lan.

" You' re too kind to a stranger, Huw, but we must press on. We' ve got to find our companion."

" She must be very: special," said Oliana. She blinked slowly, her long dark lashes hiding her eyes in a sleepy- sexy manner. The careful circuit her tongue made around her ruby lips convinced Lan that he and Krek must be on their way soon- very soon.

" She is. I owe her much."

" Friend Lan Martak," called Krek. " Come look. They sell the bugs openly. Oh, this is such a fine place. I am glad I insisted we come." The giant spider had discovered a booth near the gateway leading into Melitarsus selling roasted insects. None was smaller than Lan' s forearm, and many dwarfed even the giant grasshopper creatures they' d fought on the road. The spider bounced from one side to the other and, had he the capacity, would have drooled over the selection.

" I' d best take care of Krek," said Lan hurriedly. He shook Huw' s hand and nodded to Oliana, not trusting the woman to any other platonic gesture.

" That you' d better. He' s gathering quite a crowd."

Lan saw the caravan master spoke the truth. The owner of the concession stand cowered back against the stone wall of the city, his tiny charcoal burner untended. A large worm roasting over the coals no longer turned and began to burn.

" Here, allow me," said Lan, elbowing his way through the noisy crowd to aid the concessionaire. He began turning the worm to ensure an even cooking.

" He: he' s with you?" asked the man, not taking his eyes off Krek.

" Yes. How much for the worm turning?" Lan indicated the one already spitted.

" Take it. Free. Just: move along. Please!"

" Free?" piped up Krek in a childlike voice. " My, my, this is a hospitable place. Thank you, friend." A dual clicking of his mandibles caused the worm to vanish. Lan replaced the skewer and slipped the booth owner a small gold piece. The denomination and mintage were of another world, but the metal retained its value across worlds.

As Lan and Krek worked their way from the booth, the spider commented, " I should have charged him for my services. His business has trebled since all saw the high quality of his new patron."

Lan Martak glanced over his shoulder and saw it was true. People thronged to the vendor begging for his wares. Lan shuddered at the thought of all the grubs being toasted and sold. He preferred his food less crunchy.

" Let' s find a stable and arrange for a horse. That mountain is far enough away so that I don' t want to walk to it."

" You need new boots, too, friend Lan Martak," observed the spider. " Those are doomed to an early demise."

The tattered fragments of leather remaining in Lan' s boots convinced him that, while haste was necessary to find Inyx, he had to refit himself before any serious travelling. A horse, food, new clothes- boots! — and a sharpening of his sword and knife headed the list of items required. And he hadn' t forgotten his vow to take a long, hot soak to ease the muscle strain he still suffered. In the past few weeks he had been through a lifetime of danger. His body required some attention now or it would fail him at a critical time in the future. Lan knew with innate certainty that finding Inyx would be a difficult task.

And combatting Claybore presented an even more difficult duty.

He tensed as he thought of the sorcerer, that eyeless skull, and even felt the tides of magic rippling around him in the city. Lan shook off the feeling of: compulsion. Few knew he had entered Melitarsus, and even fewer cared who he was. What magics he sensed were those already existing and weren' t directed against him personally.

" This is a nice place. Streets swept, sanitation advanced, even a few of those things. I suspect Huw will purchase several to replace those he lost." Lan pointed to a chuffing, clanking, smoking wagon powered by steam. A Maxwell' s demon sat trapped in the boiler, selecting hot molecules and keeping them while discarding the colder ones. " Those were becoming common on my world before I walked the Road. At least a dozen of them around town." When Krek only sniffed in disdain, he dropped the subject. He didn' t bother telling the spider how he' d stolen one of the vehicles, promising the demon its freedom in exchange for a little distance between him and the law.

" I see fewer of the vendors selling succulent morsels," complained Krek. " I fear I might vanish unless I dine more frequently." Since he' d met the spider, Lan had noted a fullness developing around Krek' s middle. He believed it came from overeating, but he said nothing. What thoughts went on inside that alien brain he had never figured out. Krek was a friend; Lan left it at that.

" There' s a modest enough caravansary that will be adequate for my needs. I' m sure they can cater some bugs for you." Lan went into the inn, fascinated by the size of the place. While it didn' t expand much on the ground, it rose to a dizzying height of four stories. Ordinary buildings weren' t constructed like that on his home world. Only important edifices, like government buildings, or emperors' palaces, rose above the second story.

" Good day, gentle one," greeted the man behind a highly polished wooden bar. He leaned forward slightly, putting his weight on the bar. " Travelling from a distance?"

" Quite a distance."

" To?"

" I beg your pardon?" Lan' s suspicions flared. What did it matter to this oily clerk where he travelled?

" I require it for the register." He pointed to a small book open in front of him. " The Suzerain requires it." He gave an eloquent shrug that indicated he was but a poor simple servant obeying the capricious whims of a bureaucrat. Lan made him out to be another bureaucrat revelling in paperwork.

" I don' t know the name of the place."

" But you do know which direction you' re travelling?"

" Toward the mountain," cut in Krek. " The big one. The one that is of a decent size on this otherwise flat world."

" The big one?" the clerk asked, puzzled. Then he brightened. " Mount Tartanius? You are pilgrims making the journey, then!"

" Yes," said Lan, not caring what journey the man referred to. All he wanted was a hot tub and time to rest in a soft bed.

" Affix your chop here," the clerk said, indicating a small portion of the page yet unfilled with his fussy writing. Lan obeyed, then hesitated. The clerk smiled and said, " That' s all right. I' ll enter the notation for your friend."

" He, uh, doesn' t need a room," said Lan. " In the stables will be fine."

" A room," said the clerk firmly. " We wouldn' t want to disturb the horses, would we?"

" No, we would not," agreed Krek.

The clerk beamed. Lan sighed. Being back in civilization had some compensations, but it also had drawbacks. He' d have to pay for two rooms to keep the spider from frightening the animals.

Lan Martak had just finished his second long bath of the day and felt almost human again when a hard knock came at his door.

" Who is it?" he called.

" Envoy from the Suzerain of Melitarsus," came the surprising answer.

" One minute," he said, getting into his trousers. He didn' t bother with the ragged tunic or his ripped boots. If the envoy from the Suzerain of Melitarsus didn' t like the way he dressed, that was just too bad. He had no reason to be rousted out like this. He hadn' t even been in town long enough to violate any laws.

" Good day, gentle one," said the envoy, bowing in a courtly fashion.

" What do you want?"

" The Suzerain herself desires an audience with you."

" You mean she wants me to show up for an audience." The difference wasn' t subtle. The envoy ordered him to the palace, or wherever the Suzerain kept her court.

" Not at all. Suzerain Nashira wishes to speak with you and your companion. At your convenience."

" You mean if I don' t accompany you, I won' t be forced along?" The shocked expression on the man' s face told Lan much. This was a request, not an order. " Why does the ruler of Melitarsus want to see me?"

The envoy cleared his throat and nervously averted his eyes. Lan knew then what the answer would be.

" The, uh, spider. It: he: his like has never before been seen in Melitarsus. Smaller varieties, of course, abound, but none so large. The Suzerain wishes to observe him more closely."

" He' s not a zoo beast," snapped Lan. Then, softening his tone, he said, " Krek' s an intelligent being."

" Such is the appeal for Her Highness. She has heard reports of the encounter with the grub merchant."

" Any time I want, we can see the Suzerain Nashira?" asked Lan suspiciously.

" Not just any time, but certainly at your convenience, and if Her Highness is not caught by the press of official duties. She is a very busy woman."

" When would she like us to be there?"

" This evening?" the man suggested. " For a semi- formal dinner?"

" It' d have to be less formal than that. My clothes are a bit the worse for wear and tear."

" The Suzerain understands. Clothing suitable for the occasion will be sent. The third hour after sunset?"

" Fine," said Lan, puzzled. As he shut the door, he said to himself, " This is a more civilized city than I thought. Not only do I get a free meal, I get some clothes- and all for parading Krek around. Not bad, not bad at all!"

The tunic fit perfectly, but the gold threads cut into his flesh and the diamond bits woven into the fabric sent cold shivers throughout his body. Still and all, Lan Martak felt well taken care of. The envoy had chosen the clothing for him, and, while it didn' t suit him as to taste, Lan had allowed the man to foist it off on him. This was the Suzerain' s party.

Krek bounced from one side to the other in a nervous motion that soon got on Lan' s nerves.

" Calm down, will you? They' re not going to eat us for supper. The Suzerain herself invited us. She wants to meet you."

" Meet me? Me, a poor spider from the depths of the Egrii Mountains? On this world, there are not even any Egrii Mountains."

" You said you were a Webmaster. Doesn' t that make you some sort of nobility?"

" Nobility?" shrilled the spider. " Far from it. I ran from my lovely Klawn after our mating. I forfeited my claim to any nobility with that cowardly act. I should have allowed her to devour me, to cocoon me for our hatchlings' first meal. What right have I to meet with nobility? My offspring may starve because of my failings."

Lan sighed and ignored the piteous whinings. He stared in frank admiration at the room in which they waited. The walls were frescoed by an artist of great talent. Every character seemed alive, eyes burning with emotion, their motion merely checked, the scenes intellectually involving and thrilling to study. On the floor lay a rug of a strong, fine weave that crushed delicately as Lan paced over it. As he walked, a tiny fragrance of pines rose to tease his nostrils. Gentle music reached his ears, music caused by his light steps on the rug; the combinations of feel, scent, and hearing beguiled him with the ingenuity. The furniture was on the sparse side and appeared too fragile for any significant weight; Lan decided against sitting in the antiques. The carved wood door had been polished to a luster approaching a mirror' s, and the door lever might have been wrought from the finest of gold leaf. Lan couldn' t wait to see the rest of the Suzerain' s palace.

" This way, gentle ones," came the almost- whispered words of the chamberlain. He bowed as Lan and Krek passed him.

Lan hesitated as he passed. His arm had bumped into the chamberlain' s. Cold metal instead of flesh ran under the lush velvet tunic. Seeing his reaction, the chamberlain smiled and said, " I am a mechanical. The human servants are reserved for more: personal duties."

" Totally mechanical?" asked Lan, frowning. The man- the mechanical- reached up and caught a corner of his face. He stripped back enough of the false flesh to reveal metallic bone.

" Totally mechanical," confirmed the chamberlain. " While it limits many things, it does relieve humans of tedious duties."

" I can imagine," said Lan, glancing back at the chamberlain. A slight clanking sound was the only indication that the servant wasn' t completely human.

" By the Great Web," muttered Krek. " To spin a web here! It would be an act of daring and skill second to none."

The hall' s vastness awed Lan. A four- story hotel had seemed extravagant use of time and material; it would fit into the chamber with space to spare on all sides. The vaulted ceiling of the hall vanished into the distance. He fancied tiny clouds formed their own weather patterns in the immense distance where the groined arch met. Pillars of alabaster supported the roof, and an opalescent material formed the floor. The entire audience chamber told of immense power and wealth- and, thought Lan, a rare quantity among rulers, great taste.

The pair clicked and walked along the floor to the far end of the chamber. At the raised throne sat a small child of indeterminate sex, hardly more than six or seven years of age. Lan' s eyebrows rose at the idea of so young an urchin ruling Melitarsus.

" He' s my son, gentle one," came a lilting voice from Lan' s right. He turned and again felt awe rising. The woman swirled past in a diaphanous gown that appeared to be spun of storm clouds and lightning, shifting, changing, rolling with vibrancy and power. The dark billows flowed in such a fashion that creamy skin was exposed as she moved; brilliant flashes of light were emitted from the deepest recesses of the fabric. A single strand of pearls circled the woman' s throat. Other than this, she wore no jewelry.

" You are the Suzerain Nashira?"

" I am. And you are Lan Martak. And this is Krek of the Pinnacles, Krek- k' with- kritklik." How such an alien name flowed so easily from a human mouth amazed Lan. He' d tried for some time to properly pronounce Krek' s name- and he' d repeatedly failed.

" Nashira," said Krek, bending all eight legs and forming a brownish lump in the middle of the gleaming opal floor. " You do this weak, pitiable one too much honor by your presence."

" Nonsense, it is Melitarsus that applauds you. I' ve heard of your exploits with the caravan, and your heroism. The least I could do was learn your name."

Lan frowned slightly. He couldn' t pronounce Krek' s full name, so how had Nashira learned it? Before he could pursue this line of thought, the woman spun about. Her dress opened slightly at the neckline from the motion and exposed a flare of lily- white breast that took Lan' s mind off such erudition on the woman' s part.

" Food. We must eat. Run along and play, Kyle."

" Do I have to, Mama? I want to watch the spider."

" Well, only if you behave." She smiled fondly as the child nodded, wide- eyed. " He' s so good. He' ll make a fine ruler for Melitarsus one day."

" You' re so young, that day must be far in the future," said Lan, trying for his most gracious of compliments.

" I' m older than I appear, gentle one, but thank you. Now, food. For all of us!"

Krek' s mandibles clacked in a ferocious manner when he spied the delicacies prepared for him. An entire table had been laid with half the members of the insect kingdom.

" Your pardon, Suzerain," Krek said, his large dun- colored eyes focused on the platters presented for his approval. " I must honor you by doing justice to such fine food."

Nashira smiled as the spider began eating the grubs, worms, and insects fried, dipped, and spiced for him.

" Our other dishes are somewhat more enticing- to humans." She seemed unable to take her eyes off Krek, however, as she and Lan sat at a nearby table. Lan blinked hard as he " felt" magics surround him; the spells came from nowhere, seemed to be everywhere.

" This is a most progressive city, Suzerain," said Lan, trying to draw her attention away from Krek. " I noted you don' t even use the royal ' we' when referring to yourself."

A dainty hand made a motion of dismissal.

" Such things are beneath me. Being Suzerain carries heavy burdens. My subjects, my loyal subjects, require continual work on my part. Taxes must be spent wisely."

" They seem to be," cut in Lan. " Melitarsus prospers."

" You like it here?" she asked, for the first time interested in him. Lan stirred uneasily. More than a faint touch of magic now flowed through the conversation. His magic- sensing ability " itched," but not enough to make him wary, just curious.

" The city is unparalleled in my travels. And it' s ruler is the most gorgeous I' ve ever seen."

Nashira laughed lightly and said, " You flatter me. I' m not all that pretty. But beauty is in the eye of the beholder. If you name me lovely, then I must be."

Lan Martak basked in the warmth of her smile. While the woman was pretty, he had encountered lovelier ones. Zarella. Perhaps even Inyx. He felt a pang of regret. Staying in Melitarsus looked so attractive, but his duty lay elsewhere. Every day, every hour he delayed, might put Inyx into greater danger.

" Stay in our fair town and sample all we have to offer."

" The temptation is great, Suzerain-"

" Nashira," she corrected. " I don' t stand on ceremony. We are very casual in Melitarsus."

" Nashira," he said. " But Krek and I seek a lost companion. We think she might be headed for Mount Tartanius."

" Mount Tartanius? She' s a pilgrim, then?"

" No." Lan felt reluctance to tell even this charming woman of the Cenotaph Road and Claybore' s existence, yet he must. But to ruin the mood:

" Oh," said Nashira, " then she must also walk the Cenotaph Road. There' s been some activity atop Mount Tartanius that draws the pilgrims. They think a new road has been opened there now. It' s a matter of faith with many of the cults that a cenotaph will provide the interworld travel they require from their religion."

" I' ve walked the Road," Lan said slowly. Nashira knew about the Cenotaph Road. Lan felt a surge of magic, then a slow fading, almost as if spells were being allowed to decay of their own accord.

" And followed adventure, you and Krek. Tell me, is the spider as mighty a fighter as he appears? He is frightful in the way he gobbles down those insects."

" He is stronger than any ten men, but he seldom fights."

" What?" Surprise, a hint of anger? " Why not?"

" He is a peaceful being. Like most spiders, he is more content to sit and wait rather than initiate."

" I see."

Nashira said nothing more, and silence fell. When Lan had eaten his fill and had begun to feel uncomfortable with the lull in conversation, he spoke.

" This has been a wonderful evening, Nashira. Thank you very much."

" Do come again tomorrow. For lunch. Yes, I' ll be free of all my courtly duties by noon."

" We must ride on."

" To Mount Tartanius?"

" To find our companion."

" Well, Lan, this is difficult for me to say, but that wouldn' t be wise." Seeing him tense, Nashira hurried on with her explanation. " The grasshoppers you defeated on your arrival to our world are swarming between here and the Sulliman Mountain Range. No two travellers are likely to survive the journey until fall chill brings a killing of the insects' food sources."

" We must try."

" Allow me to prepare an escort for you, then. An armed guard of company strength might win through."

" You are too kind."

" No, I just want you to agree to lunch tomorrow. Is that such a large price?"

Lan Martak felt magics flowing about him, but he couldn' t decide if they were arcane or more secular. His silence lengthened uncomfortably.

" I insist," Nashira finally pressed. " One doesn' t argue with the Suzerain of Melitarsus, does one?"

While Nashira' s tone was light and joking, Lan felt a sharp bite to the words. No one ruled a city- state the size of Melitarsus without having at least an undercurrent of steel. Otherwise, a puppet sat on the throne while the real power resided elsewhere. Nashira ruled Melitarsus benevolently from all that Lan had seen, but she still ruled.

" Oh, yes, Lan, do accept Mama' s offer," Kyle piped up. The child' s wide- eyed innocence convinced Lan.

" Only until you have the troops assembled to guard Krek and me on our way to Mount Tartanius."

" You' ll love this little place I' ve set aside for you," the woman continued. " You' ll stay the night, of course." Her long, flowing dark hair caught the summer sun and sent back highlights of blue amid the black. In that moment, she reminded Lan a good deal of Inyx. Lan felt guilt at the thought of spending still another day in Melitarsus when he should be out seeking Inyx.

" I can only stay overnight. After lunch Krek and I must be on our way to Mount Tartanius. If the pilgrims can make it through the ' hoppers, then we can, also."

" Oh, Mama, look, look!" cried young Kyle. The boy pointed as Krek devoured the last of his meal. " See how hungry the spider is! None can stop him, none!"

" He is powerful. Look at the mandible action. Those can surely slash a man in half with one cut." The feral light in the lovely woman' s eyes dimmed as she turned to Lan and said, " Your friend is needed here. He does the work of a dozen guards against the grasshoppers."

" Come, Lan, see the palace where Mama wants you to stay. I' m sure you' ll like it." A tiny hand gripped his and pulled him along.

" Palace?"

" Kyle exaggerates. To him, anything larger than his quarters is a palace." The Suzerain trailed along behind, her billowing gown showing off her long, trim legs and the swell of her womanly breasts. Lan glanced behind him occasionally to drink in her beauty. She moved with such precision and grace that it was impossible to keep from staring. Nashira didn' t mind; if anything, she basked in the attention.

" Here, Lan, isn' t it marvelous?" The child stood and pointed.

" That' s where you want me to stay?" Words choked in the man' s throat. Kyle' s estimation had been on the conservative side. This wasn' t as much a palace as it was a small portion of Paradise. The neatly cropped lawns swept out for a mile behind. Trees dotted the landscape, and a small stream meandered across the meadows. The lushness of newly trimmed grass rose to bring back memories long buried in Lan' s mind. Only in the distance did he see anything to spoil the illusion. The stone wall around the city- state gave the lie to limitlessness.

But the building itself shamed even the parklike qualities Lan admired so much. The walls were of finely wrought silver and gold; on closer examination he saw some artisan had spent considerable time creating scenes and stories. As he walked along the wall, a mural detailing the history of Melitarsus unrolled for his amusement. Some of the characters were bawdy, some sedate, all magnificently done.

" You like the outside, Lan? The inside is even nicer," cried Kyle. The boy pulled him along like a captive balloon.

" I don' t believe this. It: it' s magnificent." Lan' s words barely touched what he felt. Everything about this building exceeded his wildest dreams. He took a deep breath; he' d possessed great wealth once before, and it had almost ruined him. The gold and jewels changed him, made him into something he wasn' t. It required long practice to be wealthy without becoming arrogant. Nashira obviously had the practice; he didn' t.

" I shouldn' t," he said.

" But Lan, it' s only for the night. You leave in the afternoon," she said, her words honeyed and enticing. " We wish to leave you with only good memories of the city."

" I have fine ones already. I know Krek does. He is nearly bloated from dinner. But this!" Lan spun and studied the walls, the floor, the frescoed ceiling. The statuary of the finest marble, the busts of bronze, the oil paintings of extreme delicacy and craft, the very building itself was a masterwork. Ten mechanicals silently bowed, treating him as if he were the ruler of Melitarsus. He had the feeling all he had to do was snap his fingers and anything- anything at allwould be delivered to him.

" It' s our guest house. Seldom is it used," said Nashira. " We reserve it for only the best."

" Like you!" chimed in Kyle.

" I' ll stay. For the night."

" Good. You have these mechanicals. Simply call for them for anything you require. And there are human servants, also, if you prefer a more personal touch. Many guests are put off by being served by artificial beings." Her long, slender fingers lightly brushed his cheek. " But do enjoy yourself, Lan. Please." He felt both the erotic touch and the electric thrill of a magical spell. Then both Nashira and Kyle silently left.

" This is truly a sumptuous palace, friend Lan Martak," came the spider' s familiar voice. " Have you seen my quarters? Marvelous! I' ve already begun spinning a sleeping web between the ivory posts. Most comfortable."

" Too comfortable," mused Lan, as he glanced around him. The place was more like a museum than a dwelling, yet Nashira had said it was a guest house. It hardly seemed plausible that an itinerate like himself merited such quarters, yet here he was. And there had been the flash of magic.

He shook his head. Perhaps the beauty of the room had been enhanced by simple magical spells. It wasn' t unheard of. Perhaps no gold gleamed so brightly nor artist painted so brilliantly, unless aided by small magics.

It didn' t matter. He' d enjoy himself. For the night.