His magic sense screamed.
" I hate to burden you with further demands on the city' s resources, but Krek and I really must press on. What is the chance of getting the escort you promised?"
" Escort?" she said, swirling away. Her dress shifted colors like a rainbow. A flawless naked back turned to Lan. She studied him from over her shoulder. The man wondered how the dress stayed pressed so intimately to the front of her body when there was no support behind.
" Soldiers. To escort us to Mount Tartanius."
" Oh, yes, those men," she said. As she moved, the colors of her dress changed from bright oranges and reds to more sedate greens. Wedges of black formed and powered through the pastels, replacing them totally. It was as if the dress altered with her mood. Even as he watched, colors flowed into new hues, took on different configurations, some patches of the dress even becoming transparent. Lan almost choked when strategic portions of the dress turned clear, but the clarity of the view of Nashira' s most intimate parts clouded, turned opaque, and began shifting through an artist' s palette of colors.
Lan shook himself. The sensation of being trapped threatened to panic him.
" The hospitality you' ve shown is second to none," he heard himself say, almost as if another spoke. The feeling of distance within himself grew. Panic mounted. Magics flared brightly all around him. He tried to warn her of Claybore. All he uttered was, " I can' t fault you on even the smallest of points."
" Then stay!" she cried. " Stay in Melitarsus. We need more men like you."
" I do nothing," he protested. " That' s the problem. I: I do nothing at all."
" I can make you a lord of the city. Your fighting prowess is obvious. How would you like to be deputy commander of the watch? It carries both prestige and great duty. You would be second in command of the army, next only to General Clete n' Fiv."
" No, Nashira, please."
" I can' t make you commander. That wouldn' t be the least fair to Clete."
" I' m not asking for that. I just want to continue on to Mount Tartanius."
" You' re no pilgrim. What' s there you can' t find in Melitarsus? Some woman? If Ria displeases you, select another!"
Lan Martak felt a surge of cold insight. If he expressed desire for Nashira, that meant his death, yet the woman used sexual charms on him, teasing and taunting. Even as she spoke, portions of her dress became crystal clear again, portions showing the furry nest between her thighs, the pink- capped mounds of her breasts. The sexual message clearly served as an inducement to stay, yet the ruler of Melitarsus remained aloof, untouched, untouchable. She would give him anything to keep him, anything but herself.
The contradiction confused him.
" The escort. Do we get it?"
" Oh, Lan, you are so stubborn. Be on your way. But let the spider remain, if he so chooses."
This took Lan by surprise. It had been Krek who had given him the impetus to come and confront Nashira. The woman' s tone told him that she fully expected Krek to remain behind if he decided to push on to the mountains. He couldn' t think of a single thing that bound Krek to this city, to this woman. The spider preferred the mountains where he could range as he had as a hatchling, as a Webmaster. Melitarsus offered nothing but a tiny room in which to spin his webs.
" He' d come with me."
" Why not let Krek decide for himself?"
Nashira sounded too sure of herself for Lan to debate the issue.
" You have no qualms about letting us leave, if we both choose to do so?"
" Of course I do!" she protested. " The ' hoppers are deadly this year. Your devoured carcasses would be found by the side of the road come fall. I like you- both of you. That' s the last thing I' d want. Stay, Lan, stay here. Enjoy all Melitarsus has to offer, at least until the autumn chill kills off the grasshoppers."
Lan Martak sensed magic building all around him. The audience chamber wavered slightly. He saw Nashira as if through a heat shimmer. His senses jumbled, reminding him of the instant/ eternity he' d spent in the white foggy limbo between worlds. The colors of the woman' s dress blazed brilliantly now; her pungent perfumes made his nostrils flare; oceans roared in his ears. He felt a power growing within him, growing from a tiny seed within his mind, turning into something stronger, more vibrant, more commanding.
" Kyle!" the woman said sharply.
Lan felt the magical power used against him slacken. He almost fell to his knees when it vanished entirely. Pale and shaken, he stood before Nashira. The expression on her face combined anger and pride. Peering out from around her skirts like a much younger child stood Kyle.
" You appear faint, Lan. It' s nothing I said, is it?"
" What?" He slowly recovered. His senses returned to normal, and the compelling flow of magic around him ebbed. " Sorry, my mind wandered elsewhere."
" That is sometimes dangerous. If your mind wanders, you might be tempted to join it."
Lan said nothing.
" Go, my good friend, relax in your quarters. Take a soothing bath. Tell Ria I' ve ordered the physician to send you some medicine. You' ll be hale and hearty before you know it."
" All should be cared for as Krek and I are," said Lan, bowing slightly.
" All should be as stimulating as you and the spider are," said Nashira. Her laughter followed him out of the audience hall.
Lan Martak ducked down an alley, fear clutching at his throat. He didn' t think they' d seen him. If they had, a half- dozen swords would have been sheathed in his body by now.
He' d left Nashira' s palace, distraught by all that had occurred. The visit hadn' t produced the hoped- for results. She had given him no promise of troops to escort him and Krek through the ' hopper infestation; Nashira had promised more than any mortal could hope for in a lifetime. All the parts of this puzzle failed to come together. If Krek were right and the Suzerain maintained no army outside the walls of the city- state, she could supply a score of troops- more!without diminishing her defense capabilities.
That didn' t fit, nor did the surge of magic he' d felt just before leaving her presence. The woman lied when she said that magics weren' t used by the rulers of Melitarsus; he' d felt ephemeral spells inside the chamber from the very first audience. No spell, however, had been so strongly antagonistic as the last one.
And he didn' t think Nashira had been responsible for it.
But Kyle? Lan tried to remember what mages he' d known had said about magic. That it required long years of study he knew. Never had he heard of a sorcerer as young as Kyle. Even native ability had to be trained over decades.
He' d wandered the streets of Melitarsus pondering all this when he' d bumped into a grey- clad soldier.
Only quick reaction had allowed him to twist into the alley and run for his life. The pounding of feet behind him told Lan all he needed to know. The startled soldier had only caught a brief glimpse of him, but he knew Lan. The way he called out to his companions proved that beyond any possible doubt.
Claybore still wanted him, still had men tracking him.
Finally eluding the grey- clad soldiers hadn' t been easy, but he knew the city better than they. Panting, heart racing, he leaned against the city wall and observed.
While the number of the grey soldiers inside Melitarsus wasn' t large, it was obvious these were scouts. Before the end of the summer the city would be overrun with them. Melitarsus would fall, just as a hundred other cities had. Lan remembered how they' d insinuated themselves into his hometown, how Kyn- alLyk- Surepta had turned traitor, sold out to them, become a ranking officer.