[Cenotaph Road 02] - The Sorserer's Skull Read online

  “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 all—would 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.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “You’re not drinking. Is anything wrong? Are you ill?” came the anxious words of the serving girl.

  Lan looked at Ria and said, “How can I drink in the wine and your beauty at the same time?” She blushed nicely and turned to show him her profile. He’d tried to determine her age and had failed. Young, definitely, but a woman now. The ripeness of her breasts, the inviting width of her hips, the slim tapering of her graceful legs, all that indicated woman.

  “Do you require anything further?” she asked. A strand of her red hair fell forward across her forehead. Quick, nimble fingers replaced the vagrant mane until her coiffure was again perfect. Dancing emerald eyes teased and hinted at pleasures no mere girl could know. It was Lan’s turn to be confused.

  “I’m stuffed. The food was excellent. I can barely finish this wine the Suzerain so kindly sent me.”

  “What a shame she is not here to share it with you.” The way Ria said the words hinted at erotic worlds Lan only guessed existed. In a way it surprised him that the woman suggested that Nashira had any but passing interest in him.

  “I’d rather…” Lan began, then stopped. His train of thought derailed as he “felt” powerful magical spells whirling around him. Then the sensation vanished.

  “You’d rather be with me?” Ria asked innocently. But there was nothing innocent in the way she lithely rose to pirouette. As she turned, her garments began falling off in a teasingly erotic fashion. Lan got glimpses of snowy skin as her blouse sank down her back. When she turned, she held the blouse chastely over her breasts while her skirt seemed to have a mind of its own and creep up over the flare of her hips. A tiny puff of fiery red hair appeared before Ria spun around again, dropping the blouse to stand naked to the waist.

  “I am not Nashira,” she said slowly, “but I hope I can please you, nonetheless.”

  She turned and squarely faced Lan. He felt urges within his loins that hadn’t stirred for some time. Fighting Waldron and Claybore had taken too much of his time and strength for the more pleasant activities life offered.

  Ria offered the most pleasurable of all.

  She came to him, her skirt slipping to the floor as she moved. By the time he took her in his arms, she was gloriously naked.

  “Love me,” she whispered hotly in his ear.

  He rolled over to rise above her. Together their fingers removed his unwanted clothing. Then he made love to her, gently at first, then building needs until neither could stand another second. In a burst of fiery passion, they consummated their wanton desires.

  Lan soon found himself responding to Ria’s knowing ministrations anew.

  “Look, my friends, behold how a barbarian makes love to a woman!” Nashira pointed to the wall of her immense audience chamber. The characters etched into the pounded gold mural began to writhe and move. The gold quality faded to be replaced by flesh tones. Soon, Lan and Ria moaned and strove ten times bigger than life in front of the crowd gathered before Nashira’s throne.

  “Lusty, isn’t he?” came an effete voice from the Suzerain’s right. “Hmm, interesting movement, that. Do you see how he turned her over so that she came up on hands and knees? Interesting technique, very interesting.”

  “Is that all it is to you, Clete? ‘Interesting’?” taunted Nashira. “You make love like a mechanical. Why don’t you show us what you’ve learned from Lan and demonstrate? On Aludra.”

  A honey blonde smiled and began stripping off already scanty clothes. The woman beckoned to Clete, who stood stock-still.

  “Why don’t you join me instead, Nashira?” the man asked. “All would enjoy that.�
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  “Come, Clete, come and show me. Oh, look at what they do now. That is much more than interesting,” said Aludra, her hands working down the front of the man’s tunic, around his waist to cup firm buttocks. Then she slipped her fingers lightly around to his codpiece. “Not all of this is cotton padding,” she said, her voice now husky.

  All the while, Nashira watched Clete and Aludra—and the others—slowly working themselves up into erotic frenzy. A full five hundred of her nobles had turned out for sport this evening. The attraction was obvious. Few visitors to Melitarsus showed the energy that Lan did. Nashira smiled and leaned back in her throne, her long, slim legs unconsciously spreading as she watched the pair magically shown on the wall. She reached out and silently took a cup of aphrodisiac-laced wine from an expressionless mechanical waiter.

  “Ah, yes, Lan Martak and my little Ria, you are quite an attraction,” sighed the Suzerain of Melitarsus, sipping at the cinnamon wine. She felt a stirring of her long skirts and glanced down. A small lump worked its way upward. She felt hot breath along her naked legs, and shivered in anticipation. Her eyes returned to the screen as her own passions rose, were fed, were tended. She shrieked out her joys, then relaxed.

  She blinked rapidly to clear her vision. Aludra and Clete had long since split up. Aludra and two other women were intimately engaged, while Clete and another woman were slowly warming to one another. All had their eyes fixed on the wall, however. Orgies became so dull after a while. It required a special attraction to add zest to them. The magical eye spying on Lan certainly gave her nobles new life this night, thought Nashira.

  The roar of passion rose from the five hundred—or more—gathered in the audience chamber. She barely heard the child’s voice over the groans and gasps.

  “Can I go now, Mama? Will there by anything else?”

  “No, Kyle, run along.”