Wizard's Funeral (3 page)

if her interrogators want a cup of chocolate. Her sons have none of the manners of princes, nor the military training required of the White Prince, nor the administrative skills of a good Rose Prince, nor princely airs and graces, nor love of order. They are crafty, sly creatures, who hoard things unnecessarily against a time when they believe they will be in want again, as they once were. Individually they flout the rituals whenever they can, and each blames the other, for who can tell where the blame really lies? Soldier said, They sound like a tonic to me. But no, cried the raven, for the country is now in chaos! A square, walled city, with neat little houses all in rows, and one family to each house, and four courtyards, and four parks, and eight watchtowers, and sixteen flagpoles, and yet no one now quite knows where to be, and at what time, and who to meet and how to trade with them. The Weights and Measures Department is in disarray, the Committee for Straight Streets has a wiggle in it, and the Council for Right-Handed Workers are all fingers and thumbs. Oh, monstrous twins, with no proper upbringing and a daft mother who sits and eats sweetmeats from dawn to dusk! Both Spagg and Soldier fell about laughing, as they stopped for a lunch of cold pasties washed down with water. After a short lunch they continued, into wolf and bear country, where the occasional jaguar crossed their path. At least in this part of the world they had no need to fear Hannacks, for the bald-headed brigands were as much in fear of wild beasts as anyone else. However, they had to be ever watchful, and lit fires whenever they stopped. The raven left them after the third river they crossed, telling them he would be back, sometime. Three days later they crested a ridge and found themselves looking down on a perfectly square city, neatly walled about. Symmetry was of the utmost importance in the architecture of that place below them, and even the goat tracks on the mountainsides around went in straight lines. The pair descended, Spagg a little more reluctantly than Soldier, since he had never learned to read and write properly, and if he were arrested he would have to rely on Soldier to get him out of trouble. I dont want to be no pincushion, he muttered to Soldier, as they approached the gates. Dont you let em stick me with arrows. Ill do my best, replied Soldier. Halt! yelled a guard on the walls. Tether your animals to the bar on the outside wall and then stand in the white circle and state your business! The pair did as they were told. We are here, cried Soldier, from the middle of the marked area, in order to find one Uthellen, of Zamerkand, mother of a young boy. Why do you want her? Soldier said, grimly, Thats private. The guard disappeared. A little while later two gates opened with perfect precision on a device with chains and weights. Soldier and Spagg entered and were then questioned for three hours by a clerk, who wrote their answers down in an astonishingly slow hand. The quill scraping across the paper hardly seemed to be moving. When Soldier complained about how long the whole interrogation was taking, there was no comment, but his complaint was laboriously taken down in black ink on grey parchment. Soldier decided that if they were ever to finish the interview he would have to keep such frustrations to himself and economise on his answers. The whole charade took place in a huge cellar, the walls of which were lined with pigeonholes, each hole bearing a parchment similar to the one the clerk wrote on now. Finally they were free to enter Bhantans city, of the same name as the country, and seek Uthellen. Being fatigued they went first to a hostelry, where they were given a towel and a bar of lye soap, a bowl of water each, and shown two beds in a room of twenty neat white beds. One at each end of the room, ordered the servant, a young woman, on opposite sides. To balance it up? queried Soldier. Are you laughing at our customs? said the servant, frowning. Because if you are . . . I wouldnt dare. The Bhantan servant was still defensive. Tradition, protocol, etiquette, these are the things that order is formed on. Without order you have confusion. We Bhantans are never confused, because we know who we are and what to do, in any emergency. We are never in crisis. Thats not what weve heard, said Spagg. What about these two new princes youve got? The servant blinked. Temporarily . . . . . . youre in disarray? finished Soldier. The servant blinked again, refused to be drawn, and left them to the simple splendour of their temporary quarters. It was indeed a pleasant enough room, with low ceilings, thick, brown, exposed beams, a tiled floor, whitewashed walls, small windows. Above all it was clean spotless in fact not a speck of dust in the corners, not a cobweb, not a dead fly on any windowsill. And the beds were squared-down at the corners, the starched white sheets like drumskins, the pillows round and hard. Welcome to the Kingdom of the Clean, muttered Spagg. Just one question where do I spit? Not if you value your life, said Soldier, flinging himself, boots and all, onto his bed. You must learn to respect the culture of other societies. Prissy missy! Spagg, get up the other end of the room. Hurry on, its quite a hike. Ive claimed this end. You would. Spagg trailed all the way down the long hostel until he found his bed in the far distance. Later, when they had eaten and rested, a male servant came to tell them that Uthellen awaited without. Soldier hurried out to meet her. Uthellen, he cried, taking both her hands in his, you still have the bloom of maidenhood upon your cheek! Liar, she said, with a wisp of smile. In fact, she looked older than he would have guessed, with grey streaks to her hair and lines to her face, though she was still not more than thirty-five years of age. However, her complexion looked ruddy enough, not pale and wan as it used to be, and she seemed fuller of figure. In fact her maturity had brought with it a different kind of beauty: the type of loveliness that caused a man of experience to choke on regret. Soldier guessed those comely age-lines had been caused by care and worry for her bastard child, who had been in danger every minute of his life until now. As he looked at her now, held her soft hands in his own, his heart was once more torn asunder. He loved his wife, it was true, but he had to tell himself that with strong conviction as he beheld this other woman. Uthellen was very dear to him. He had managed - the gods knew how - to keep himself from falling completely in love with Uthellen, who was as pure and lovely within as her outward looks promised. It was sheer force of will which kept them apart, not any natural feelings. If they had both followed their natural desires they would be infidels by now. And the boy? He has been given a name, Ixonnoxl. A perfect palindrome, sighed the Bhantanian servant in satisfaction as he was passing by. Such beautiful symmetry in the world of wizards. And he is no longer a boy, Uthellen continued, smiling. He is eighteen now. Youll meet him in a little while. Have you come to take us to Guthrum? Thats the idea. Well need an escort though. Do you think the Bhantans will supply us with one? I have no doubt of it. He noticed a wicker basket under her arm. What have you there? She smiled. Fruit. A traditional greeting gift to a friend. I bought them at the goblin market. Im glad you regard me as your friend. Spagg came down from the other end of the room. Food, eh? Id rather it was the haunch of roasted pig, but fruit will do for now. The three of them sat down to eat. There were quinces and sharp bullaces, bilberries, swarthy-looking mulberries, dewberries and sweet peaches, barberries, gooseberries and bright red cherries, medlars, plums and apples. They began eating, the juices running down their chins. Soldier could feel them doing him good, filling his veins with sunshine. Uthellen explained that no one gathered such luscious fruit as the goblins of Blackdown Wood. We just met a bunch o goblins, muttered Spagg. They was nothin but villains and thieves. Theres goblins and goblins, just as there are different shades of mortals, explained Uthellen. What a feast, said Soldier, impressed by the variety. Is this all for the three of us? What about Ix Ix . . . Ixonnoxl? He is out in the woods, beyond the city. Soldier looked up, alarmed. Wed better find him, he cried, jumping up. I havent yet told you why were here. HoulluoH is dead. Your son has been chosen as the next King Magus. He may be in danger. Whats he doing in the woods? Practising wizardry. Oh, he cant have been chosen, Uthellen said, distressed. Hes not ready for anything like that yet. Hes only just beginning to master his skills. Hes not yet mature enough. Hell need to gather more wisdom. Surely theres another wizard, a much older and wiser one who takes precedence over my son? HoulluoH proclaimed with his dying breath that the next King Magus would be the son of a woman called Uthellen. Whats the matter, why are you crying? Its not just because hes young and inexperienced, is it? Theres something else. Uthellen choked out the words. I shall lose him. Lose him? muttered Spagg, who hated women crying in front of him. You cant lose im. Everyone knows where the King Magus lives. In the Seven Peaks. She stared at him fiercely. Once he becomes King Magus hell be lost to me. What does the most powerful wizard in the world want with a mother? Hell be out of my reach. She broke down, sobbing again. Hes only eighteen. I dont want him to go. The insensitive Spagg cried, Well, them wizards live moren seven hundred years, dont they? Hes got a bit to go yet. Youll have turned your own toes up long before hes due for the box. She means go away, Soldier said. Look, Spagg, you and I are going to have to fetch him from the wood. Now, before something happens to the boy. Come on, lets go. No grumbling. Im not in the mood for it. Ill come too, said Uthellen, composing herself I know where to look.

Chapter Three

They found Ixonnoxl in the wood, talking with fairies. Soldier was not fond of fairies. He seemed to be attractive to a particular kind of that race of creatures: fairies known as drots, who bit into flesh and lapped the blood of mortals with their rough little tongues. However, the wizard-boy dismissed his fairy friends and joined his mother, Soldier and Spagg. I know why you have come, he said, nodding to Soldier. And to his mother, Im sorry. I have been called. Its not what I wanted. I know mother, but its my destiny. He drew a deep breath. However, Im not yet ready. HoullouH has died too soon. I must have more time to prepare myself. The funeral must take place before I can be installed as King Magus, that will give me a little more time to prepare myself, mentally, for the position I must occupy. First I must go to Zamerkand, where I was born, to meet with other magi. They will be journeying there, even as we speak. The inauguration must take place in the city of my birth, presided over by the Fraternity of Wizards. This was all news to Soldier. You know all this for a fact? Ixonnoxl stared at Soldier with those penetrating eyes. I can guess what you are thinking. Youre wondering about my powers now. Have I the gift of far-sight? Can I tell what others are thinking? Can I conjure legions of demons, jinn, genies or giants, to defend me? The answer is, no. I am almost as defenceless as the day I was born. I can do nothing more than a magicians tricks at this time: raise the dead, walk on air, bring on an eclipse. My great powers will come to me all at once, within the space of a second, at my inauguration. Until then I am as vulnerable as any of you. Soldier said, Im alarmed to hear this. Youre under my protection until we reach Zamerkand. I think the sooner we start out, the better. News will travel the land of the death of HoulluoH. There will be those out there seeking to take advantage of the situation before the inauguration. We must be on our way. I agree. Soldier was amazed at how much the boy had changed in physical appearance since the last time he had seen him. Then Ixonnoxl had been an awkward-looking - almost deformed -gangling, angular youth, all pointed elbows and sharp knees. Now he had a remarkable physique: muscular; finely-shaped; strong, straight bones. Soldier had been convinced he would grow up to be a hunched, wizened man, yet here he was, a tall and handsome creature with a body like a warrior. The transformation from duckling to swan was astonishing. Ixonnoxl saw him staring. Its only a matter of perception, Soldier, he said, smiling gently. You see me as a lion where you once saw a baby ostrich, but I make myself appear as I wish. The youth needed to be disregarded and even pitied. The man needs to be feared. One body is as useful as another to me. I have no need for good looks, strong muscles, but they intimidate those mortals around me. Even you. Soldier acknowledged this to be true. As they walked back to the square city, Spagg whispered to Soldier, Were made! A wizard the King Magus, yet -is a friend of ours. Well be rich, you and me. Well have it coming out of our ears, eh? Well crush our enemies like ripe plums underfoot. He actually chortled out loud. Just you wait, Captain Kaff, eh? Well have him deboned and baked in an oven - fed to that raven of yours. Chancellor Humbold? Why, well throw him into the sewers. Ill be chancellor instead. In fact, Ill be Lord of the Royal Purse and Keeper of the Towers, too. You sure you wouldnt just settle for being queen? said Soldier, sarcastically. Hadnt thought of that, Spagg replied, rubbing his coarse hands together. Ill make you Warlord of Guthrum if you like. Very generous of you. When they entered Bhantan, the city was having a crisis. A courtier had kissed one of the twin princes on the cheek early that morning. Unknown to that prince, the courtier had red dye on his lips and had left a mark. It had now been proved that the twins swapped robes and left the palace each by the exit designated for the other. Protocol had been flouted. Culture had been smashed. Custom had been destroyed. The twin princes had been playing games with Bhantans traditions! This was the most serious crime someone from Bhantan could commit. Its nobles were horrified, sickened to their stomachs. Its citizens reeled. A thousand years of perfect ritual has been thrown away, cried the First Lord of the city, to a wailing populace. We have been betrayed by these two urchins in royal robes. Treacherous creatures, lower than lizards! I say they must be banished, sent out into the wilderness to live amongst the wolves and their kind. Away with them! The two princes, not more than fourteen years of age, stood on the steps of their palace and regarded the mob with contempt. The Rose Prince waved a hand at the speaker, as if wafting away his words. The White Prince stared at the First Lord with raised eyebrows. We are the rulers, said the White Prince. We set the custom, as we may, said the Rose Prince. Ours is the rule of law in the land, they followed up in unison. Ours is to say who is banished and who is not. The mob were uncertain. Who to follow? The First Lord who knew all the rules? Or the princes, who were as they said, the legitimate rulers? It was all very confusing. Periwigged judges, prelates, courtiers, all stood behind the First Lord. Their choice had been made. A nurse and a mother stood behind the twins. They had no choice. It is our birthright, cried the twins, in unison again, and we will see to it that our gardens are turned into parks for the use of the populace. We shall build a theatre, four-square in the poor quarter. We shall distribute coin amongst you, and bread and wine ... That did it. There was a great roar of approval from the mob. The officialdom was not to be thwarted, however. Cavalry had come quietly up side-streets, their horses hooves padded with blanket. They now surrounded the square and awaited the order to charge. The streets would run with blood if the mob did not disperse. Soldier and his friends were just entering the city gates as the people were making their way to their homes, grumbling and arguing. The twins had lost. They had gone into the palace to pack their bags and steal as much as they could from the royal apartments, before being ejected through the city gates. In his capacity as Captain of the Eagle Pavilion in the Carthagan Army, Soldier managed to obtain an audience with the First Lord. This great personage had other things to worry about, but he listened and eventually gave Soldier a cavalry troop to escort Ixonnoxl across country, to the borders of Guthrum. Soldier thanked him on behalf of Queen Vanda, and preparations were made to leave the city. The cavalry troop rode in a perfect square with Ixonnoxl, his mother, and the Guthrurmtes with the supply wagons in the centre. It was all a bit too formal for Soldier, but he deferred to the cavalry lieutenant. These were not his troops to command, but those of a foreign power. Soldier would have preferred to send outriders to the flanking hills, and front and rear, but the lieutenant said such measures were unnecessary. He said he knew his own territory and there was nothing to fear, especially in this region. They passed the two young princes, as they trudged through a valley dragging a sack of silver cups and plate along with them. The lieutenant did not know whether to salute or ignore the deposed rulers, and in the end he compromised with a curt nod. Uthellen asked if the travellers could join her in one of the wagons but the lieutenant refused, saying that he had orders not to assist the princes in their flight from Bhantan. I ought to confiscate that silver theyre carrying, said the lieutenant, who was not an unkind man, but I cant help feeling its little compensation for what theyve lost. If youve ruled a country, I suppose youre entitled to take something of it away with you. Uthellen said to Soldier, Well, Im feeling sorry for them. Theyre just young boys after all, children brought up amongst the dregs of the city. You cant blame them. They might have grown up to be very wise and able rulers, if theyd been given time and training enough. I agree, said Soldier, but I think the lieutenant is right on this occasion. We cant afford to take any risks with your sons welfare. We must keep this journey as simple as possible. Taking the princes along with our party would complicate things and put two people with unknown intentions inside our circle, young as they are. You cant think the princes would betray us? I have no idea, and I dont believe we should experiment. Uthellen accepted this, though her kind heart suffered at the thought of those walkers, dragging their loot over desert and mountain, perhaps running short of water and supplies. On the third day they were coming out of a mountain pass in their usual square formation when they were attacked by Hannacks. Soldiers magic scabbard sang out, but he could not see from which direction the danger was coming. In fact the so-called barbarians of Da-tichett had made kites out of human skin and flew down from the heights into the centre of the square. The Bhantan troops had been trained to fight forces bearing on them from the outside. They were utterly confused by having an enemy attacking them from within. The Hannacks, their bodies gleaming with slippery oil, wielding war-clubs, long knives and sickles, cut into men and horses with no quarter given. The Bhantan lieutenant was one of the first to die, with a sickle through his heart. He lost his scalp just a few moments later, to a warrior whom Soldier managed to dispatch before the severed pate had rested on the bald head for more than a second. For a while it was just hewing and hacking. There was no finesse about the fighting skills of Hannacks. They killed anything on two legs, with as much energy and noise as possible. They wore the skins of former enemies as tattered cloaks. Their helmets were often made from the skulls of defeated foes. Their battle screams were horrifyingly loud because they themselves were almost deaf, having ears the size of cockle-shells. Soldier fought desperately with his warharnmer; cracking skulls, spiking heads and bodies. His scabbard saved him many times, from an attack from the rear or on his blind side. But eventually the Hannack reinforcements swept down from the hills on wild horses. These smashed through way through the remnants of the Bhantan cavalry, and carried off the wagons within the square. Some of the barbarians remained to kill the wounded and take hair and beards. Bhantan cavalry horses were gathered in. These would be sold to other tribes, since the Hannacks only rode hairy-ankled ponies of a stocky breed. Soldier seemed to be the only survivor. He was hemmed in by knives and clubs. Then his opponents lost interest in him, seeing their comrades gathering in the spoils. They left to pursue plunder in the shape of weapons and horses. This primitive culture was unconcerned with their own dead: they left them on the battlefield as food for carrion. Finally a Hannack on a horse came charging across the square. He swung a scapula-bone-club on a leather thong from his wrist. Soldier felt the blow strike his head as the war-club glanced from his temple and he fell into a black pit. When he came to, Soldier found himself surrounded by wolves. The beasts were devouring the bodies of the dead. Instinctively they had stayed away from him, knowing he was still breathing. Why risk attacking live prey when theres meat a-plenty? They slunk away from him as he groggily found his feet. He staggered beyond the fighting area to where a stream was cutting through the turf. There he washed his wounds and drank his fill. After a long rest he felt he could at least go on. There was despair in his heart, however, for Uthellen and her son had been in one of the two wagons taken by the Hannacks. What am I going to tell the queen? he cried. What indeed? He whirled round to find the raven sitting on the fork of a dead tree. You? Must you always plague me at times like this? Plague you? I heard there was meat to be had and came as quickly as I could. I am a carrion bird, after all. You heard? Word travels on the wing. Oh, said Soldier, relieved. You dont mean they know of this in Zamerkand already - the people. The raven clicked his beak. Youve been in a row, havent you? Youve been in a dust-up. Dust-up is hardly the phrase. Soldier sat on the bank of the stream with his head in his hands. Im a disgrace to the red pavilions. Ive lost the very person I was sent to guard. He looked round, quickly. Spaggs gone too. Dead I expect. Thats no loss. Tell me something important. Why wasnt I watching? Archers could have picked off those kite-men, if we had seen them coming from the skies. Well, lets just sit here and feel sorry for ourselves, shall we? Soldier stared at the raven through narrowed eyes. I was betrayed, he murmured. Thats it! Well, dont look at me. I havent betrayed anyone since I told my mother my older brother was a cuckoo and she threw him from the nest. You were never a fledgling, snapped Soldier, coming to his senses, you were an infant child, changed into a bird by a witch. What was her name? Glegnose. Unless you lied about that too. No, no -just testing. Im in no mood. Oh, gods alive, what am I going to do? I cant attack the whole Hannack nation on my own. Ill have to go for help, which means admitting my failure. The queen will never let me go out after the boy again. Shell send that idiot Kaff Youve got to go home, none the less. Hello, whos this? The bird was looking at the pass. Soldier turned and saw that the twins had caught up with him. He waited for them to come up alongside him. Whats happened here? said one twin. Had a row? Had a bit of dust-up? Soldier gritted his teeth. Theres been a battle. Oh, the other twin said, nodding. And just you left alive? Thats lucky. Or something else. What do you mean, or something else? The raven whispered in Soldiers ear, He means cowardice. Im no coward, he said, whirling on the twins. Look, I was struck on the head. Soldier began to gather some things together, as the two boys sat and watched him. Soldier found some goatskin water-bags which had luckily escaped punctures. He filled four of these up from the contents of others. Then he gave one to each of the twins and slung the other two over his own right shoulder. Youd better come along with me, he told them. Itll be safer. Where are you going? asked one. Zamerkand. Thatll do, said the other, but dont think were sharing our treasure with you. You can keep your treasure, Soldier said, Ive no desire for any of it. My wife is Princess Layana. Ive wealth enough. All I require is my identity, which Im sure youre not carrying in that sack. This answer mystified the boys and they shrugged at each other, before trailing on behind their new