Abashed, Antar fell to his knees and bowed over his folded hands. Anigel and Kadiya followed his example, as did all of the other nobles and knights gathered round about, and even the royal children and Shiki and Jagun. Word of what was happening passed by swift whispers all through the resting army, and every man knelt in the snow and prayed beneath the heavy sky.
At first, nothing happened save that the auras of the two Archimages intensified. Haramis was enveloped in a corona of glowing gold and Iriane’s shone blue, and where the auras mingled, the magical nimbus was a pure, brilliant green. The green light fountained up, forming an emerald lance that reached the louring stormclouds and spread through them as swiftly as a bolt of lightning.
In that instant, with success within reach, Haramis felt a malign opposition. An evil power was exerting all of its strength to foil the spell. Orogastus! She did not have to descry him to know he was there, fighting against them, striving to prevent the great cold from succumbing to the command of the two Archimages.
The green radiance suffusing the sky paled and flickered and the clouds turned dark once again. The Blue Lady, shocked by the viciousness of the unexpected counterattack, shrank away, ready to disengage from this suddenly perilous act of collaboration.
No, Iriane! Wait!
Haramis reached deep within herself, past the numbing morass of fatigue, and found a thing that was Three as well as One. Wielding it with the last of her strength, she hewed apart the smothering evil with a single mighty stroke. The Threefold dissolved then, but it had done its work. The golden glow and the blue swelled and coalesced once more. Green light engulfed the sky and there was a great clangorous peal, like a hundred giant bells.
Then the green radiance was gone.
Iriane and Haramis stood side by side, shorn of their magical auras, but with expectant faces. A breeze sprang up … and it was not knife-edged with chill as before but warm. From thousands of throats came murmurs of wonder. A bolt of ordinary lightning crackled across the gray sky, branching in all directions, and thunder rolled over the snowy expanse of ruined grainfields where the army rested.
It began to rain.
Blood-warm rain. A great deluge of it, like the cataracts of heaven. Huge smacking drops punched holes in the snowdrifts and ate away at the ice. Rain poured over the uplifted, frostbitten faces of the knights and men-at-arms, thawing their frozen armor. Rain like driving silver lances fell from the sky in torrents, drenching the laughing King and Queen and causing the royal children to shriek and dance for joy. The fronials tossed their heads and whickered with pleasure at the sudden rise in temperature and pawed at the puddles growing beneath their split hooves.
“To Derorguila!” Antar bellowed. He leapt into his saddle and lifted his sword. “To Derorguila!” And he trotted off among the men, who were rising from their knees and cheering so loudly that the thunder and the noise of the stupendous downpour were all but drowned out. Gultreyn and Balanikar and the other nobles also hastened to mount their fronials and prepare the men for departure.
Iriane smiled at Haramis. “Well, it worked. I’m glad. Was that your naughty lover trying to interfere?”
Haramis’s face had gone quite livid from the terrible effort. The rain had soaked her garments through and her black hair was in strings, while the Archimage of the Sea looked as elegant as ever.
“It was Orogastus. Fortunately, he could have no hint of your presence, Iriane. If you attempt Sight of him, beware, for he is now able to use my own descrying to view me—and he may very well be able to do the same to you.”
The Blue Lady laughed nervously. “Well! I think I’ll restrain my curiosity for the time being.”
“Thank you for your help. May I call upon you again if it is necessary?”
“Hmm.” The pale blue brow creased slightly. “Strictly speaking, it isn’t my province to assist you in the affairs of the land. But rain is not that different from seawater, so I was able to stretch a point—especially since the magic was unaggressive. I’ll certainly do what I can for you in the future, but only if it be lawful. Ah—would that we were not so hedged about with rules! They make life so difficult at times.”
She vanished in a small puff of indigo smoke.
Haramis now turned to her sisters, who were gathering their things together with the help of Shiki and Jagun. Kadiya asked: “Do you think we have a fair chance now of reaching the palace?”
“Thus far, only small companies of Tuzameni warriors are assaulting it,” Haramis replied. “The pirate forces are engaged elsewhere in the city with easier—and richer—objectives. Yes, with the roads clearing and the great cold held temporarily at bay, I think you now may hope to gain the palace.”
“Will you stay with us, Hara?” the Queen asked, looking up from adjusting the wet cloaks of her two children. The rain continued to cascade down unabated. “Will you protect us on the march to the city?”
The Archimage did not answer immediately, seeming to be lost in thought.
The King came riding back. “Still not in the saddle, ladies? Shiki! Jagun! Bring mounts for the Queen and the Lady of the Eyes and the royal children, and prepare one for the Archimage also.”
The two aborigines ran off. But Haramis now said to the King: “I am wearied unto death. There is no danger facing you on the road to Derorguila. I must sleep at least a few hours so that my energies will be restored. I have strength enough left to transport myself to the palace. If you and Anigel wish it, I can take you two along with me.”
“I must remain at the head of these men,” Antar replied. “But I would be grateful if you would take my wife and children to the safety of Zotopanion Keep. Anigel can tell Marshal Owanon the good news about the coming reinforcements.”
“Antar, I want to stay with you—” the Queen cried.
“We may have to fight our way into the palace compound,” he reproved her sternly. “I cannot spare warriors to guard you. The Archimage’s plan is a sound one. I implore you to accompany her.”
Reluctantly, Anigel agreed. She called the Crown Prince and Princess to her, and Haramis spread wide her cloak.
But when the Queen and the children were huddled close to her, the Archimage suddenly said: “There is still room … Kadi! You come also. We three Petals of the Living Trillium should not be separated at this critical time.”
Kadiya opened her mouth to object. But Haramis went on: “We cannot look to the Archimage of the Sea for active help in the fighting to come. I will need the wholehearted aid of you two. Without your support, I would never have been able to fend off Orogastus and bring on the rain. But our Trillium union was a fleeting one and not a firm conjunction. We will have to do better if we hope to defeat the sorcerer and his allies once and for all.”
“I pledge you my troth unto death,” Kadiya asserted stoutly, taking her place beneath the cloak.
But Anigel seemed oddly distracted. “The great cold,” she murmured, looking up at Haramis. “It is not really gone from all our land, is it! Only banished temporarily from this small region.”
Haramis nodded reluctantly.
“Then how,” Anigel asked, “can we possibly win?”
King Antar said to her: “In three hours or less I shall be in Derorguila—and with these additional troops, our chances are much improved. My darling, do not be despondent!”
Haramis closed her eyes. The King had not understood the import of his wife’s plaintive question, but Haramis had. She did not know the question’s answer, nor at the moment did she care. She wanted only to rest. With great difficulty she called to mind a crystal image of the royal withdrawing room in Zotopanion Keep.
“Farewell!” called the King. “We will join you in a few short hours, the Triune willing.”
The crystal scene turned to reality.
Haramis dared to breathe again. They had been transported safely. The children began to chatter while Kadiya and Anigel stepped away, letting the cloak fall. The chamber was chill and dreary, for the fire
had gone out, and they were all soaked to the skin. Haramis wondered if she might still have a small modicum of magic left …
Yes. A great blaze began to roar in the hearth. Her garments and those of all the others became dry and warm. Anigel, Kadiya, and the children cried out in awed appreciation.
“I will summon the servants,” the Queen said to the Archimage, “and they will prepare my bed for you straightaway.”
But Haramis had caught sight of a cushioned couch. She went to it and lay down, falling instantly into dreamless sleep. The amber within her talisman glowed so wanly that it seemed hardly alive at all.
“Master! Master! Awaken!” The Purple Voice took hold of one flaccid silver-gloved hand and pressed it to his forehead. “Master, come back! Live, dear Master! Ohhh … Dark Powers, restore him!”
Orogastus groaned and his body, which had fallen to the floor in the royal saloon of the flagship, began to stir. The Purple Voice hastened to unfasten and remove the sorcerer’s star-mask, then propped cushions beneath his head. “Don’t just stand there, boy!” the minion admonished Tolo. “Get brandy!”
The Prince’s instructions in kingly etiquette had been strangely interrupted, and he had witnessed an amazing magical struggle while sitting paralyzed on King Ledo’s traveling throne. Orogastus had taken a brief respite to descry King Antar, and he had evidently discovered some kind of threatening magical activity going on. Bathed in a green radiance and with his eyes shining like two white beacons, he had seemed to wrestle with invisible demons, crying out and slashing at them with his talisman. And then he had collapsed. That the sorcerer could be vulnerable was an astounding new notion to Tolo, and one that bore much thinking upon.
The boy made his way unsteadily to a sideboard, slopped some liquor into a golden goblet, and brought it to the Master’s assistant. “What happened?” Tolo asked. “Is he hurt?”
“Magic,” the Voice said shortly. “The Archimage Haramis began to perform a colossal feat of magic—changing the weather. The Master happened to descry the event unfolding and attempted to forestall it. But … he failed. Most unaccountably.”
“Failed,” Orogastus repeated in feeble tones. His eyes fluttered open. The Voice pressed the cup of brandy to his lips and he drank a sip or two. His voice was both dazed and bewildered. “Only by chance did I think to oversee King Antar and find that the weather about the turncoat army was about to be changed. I assumed immediately that Haramis must be accompanying the force, even though I could not confirm her presence with my Sight. I exerted all of my power to maintain the cold so that the reinforcements would be hindered from reaching the city.” He grimaced in sudden pain. “But I could not. And in the last moment before my defeat, I saw—I saw—”
“What, Master?” The Voice loosened the clasp of the sorcerer’s heavy cape, eased his position, and helped him to another swallow of brandy.
“I saw Haramis. And … who was it? The other two Petals of the Living Trillium, certainly. But it almost seemed as though there was another as well.” Orogastus shook his head. “But who?” His brow knit and he muttered an imprecation. “My wits are as useless as a bowl of curds!”
“Can you not resummon the blizzard?” the Voice asked. “You command the storm! The icy winds obey you, bringing ruination and despair to your enemies! Surely after you have rested and regained your strength—”
Orogastus held up his hand. “My Voice, I have led King Ledavardis and the other gullible Raktumians to believe that the devastation of Laboruwenda by the great surge of inclement weather was my doing. But with you there is no need for me to dissemble. Yes, I can command small storms, and bring down lightning, and generate whirlwinds, and create gales to speed our ships. But to cause widespread havoc through persistent bad weather is beyond me—just as it is beyond the Archimage Haramis herself. The truth is, I do not know why the climate has gone berserk. I thought briefly on the puzzle from time to time, but put it out of my mind since the tempests furthered my own plans. But this present failure of mine … I cannot understand it! In our earlier magical jousts today, Haramis and I seemed rather evenly matched. Then she became much fatigued and withdrew following our rupture of the harbor blockade. She should not have been able to win our encounter!”
“How do you account for it then, Master?”
“She received help from her sisters. Of that I am certain. But Queen Anigel’s trillium is still blood red, and so the Living Flower lacks its full potential. And yet I was overcome.”
Orogastus pulled himself into a sitting position. He took the cup from his minion’s hand and drained it, then coughed and pressed his knuckles to his brow. “They conjured warm air and rain. Only in a localized area, south of Derorguila. The army of provincials will move quickly to the city now, damn them, and try to join the troops inside the palace. We shall have to go ashore immediately and take charge. The Goblin Kinglet and his men will want prodding to divert them from their plundering and back to the business of war. And I must take back my second talisman from the Yellow Voice. I will need both of them to conquer Haramis.”
Again he groaned as he got to his feet, then seemed to notice Prince Tolivar for the first time since he had been stricken.
“Leave me for a moment, my Purple Voice, and take the boy. Have a boat readied to ferry us ashore. We shall need my Tuzameni bodyguard. And be sure to bring the star-box. If I do manage to find and defeat Haramis, I must take possession of her talisman immediately.”
The Voice bowed. “I obey, Master.” Tolo hastened after him.
Orogastus drew the Three-Lobed Burning Eye from its scabbard, reversed it, and held it upright by the dulled blade. “Talisman, answer me true.”
The black lobe holding the silvery Eye opened wide. I will do so if the question is pertinent.
“Who were the persons who assisted the Archimage Haramis in conjuring the warm rain?”
The Lady of the Eyes, Kadiya. And the Queen of Laboruwenda, Anigel.
“Yes? Yes? I know there was a third! Who was it?”
The Archimage of the Sea, Iriane.
“By the Bones of Bondanus!” the sorcerer cried. “Another Archimage? Can it be?”
The question is impertinent.
Orogastus swore pungently. “Tell me true: How many Archimages are there alive?”
One of the land, one of the sea, and one of the firmament.
“How may I see and converse with them?”
At the present time none of them wishes to converse with you, nor will they let you have Sight of them. At some future time, if it suits his pleasure, Denby, the Archimage of the Sky, might possibly converse with you. Right now you do not interest him.
Orogastus bit back another curse and spoke in a voice of great suavity. “Convey my warmest good wishes to Denby, the illustrious Archimage of the Sky. I humbly await his pleasure.”
It is done. The Eye closed slowly.
For a few moments more Orogastus thought furiously. Then he sheathed the talisman, took up his cloak and mask, and made ready to go ashore for the battle.
29
The fighting at the Derorguila waterfront had ended by the time that Orogastus, Prince Tolivar, and the Purple Voice approached in a small boat rowed by a dozen heavily armed Tuzameni warriors.
The virtually empty ships of the invasion force crowded the docks three and four deep, forcing the sorcerer and his party to scramble over them to reach the quay. On shore was a scene of the wildest confusion, upon which a gentle morning rain was falling. Acrid smoke filled the air, and the fast-melting snow was filthy with soot and blood and strewn with the bodies of invaders and defenders alike.
At the water’s edge the wooden catapults that had been positioned to repel the pirates burned briskly in spite of the drizzle, the gory remains of their operators scattered amidst unused piles of rock-ammunition and overturned pots of pitch. Also in flames were those wharf buildings where the Laboruwendian defenders had made their first stand. More corpses, both Raktumian and Laboruwendian,
clogged the narrow alleys among the warehouses. Most of these huge structures stood with doors wide open and windows smashed. Numbers of Raktumian seamen were hauling out booty and piling it at the dockside. Cast-off bolts of costly fabric, torn-open bales of fur, boxes of expensive knickknacks, and emptied bottles and kegs of liquor scattered helter-skelter testified to the plundering that had gone on earlier when the main body of the pirate army had passed through. Following the sorcerer’s order to King Ledavardis, the Raktumians were now streaming to join their Tuzameni allies in besieging the palace.
While four of the bodyguard went off to find a cart or some other conveyance for their master, Orogastus paused beneath the stone porte cochere of Derorguila’s Bank of Commerce to go into a brief trance. For the first time since his indisposition, he felt strong enough to bespeak his Yellow Voice at length.
When his silent conversation had been completed, the sorcerer’s face was grim. “Queen Anigel is in Zotopanion Keep with her sister Kadiya,” he told the Purple Voice. “Yellow says that the two royal children are there also, and they have let slip that the Archimage is also in the keep, sleeping off her exhaustion. Awake or asleep, Haramis remains hidden beneath the concealing spell of her talisman. But for the time being she will not actively oppose us, and we must move swiftly to take advantage of the situation.”
“That is excellent news!” the Purple Voice said.
“The bad news,” Orogastus rejoined, “is that King Antar is fast approaching from the south with his army of some three thousand. There are two thousand defenders within the palace grounds—mostly knights and the cream of the enemy men-at-arms. If they are reinforced by the King, we shall have a devil of a time prying them out without severe losses. Our Tuzameni troops just outside the palace have been under devastating crossbow attack from the bastions. The brave fellows are holding fast in spite of heavy casualties, but we must hasten to assist them.”