Temujin gave up trying and fell to the sumptuous meal. From all that he had heard of the green lady of Zangrimar, Kirin would not be the first man who had fallen under the dazzling spell of her seductive loveliness.
The feast, he was reluctantly forced to admit, was superb. A succession of young female slaves, dressed much in the same manner of abbreviated garment as the girl Caola had worn, presented an assortment of delicious dishes from which the guests lazily selected their portions. Great platters of chased gold, electrum, silver and sparkling chaya bore succulent roast moon-ox, broiled shynx with Vegan cloves, rare Pharvisian snow-tiger steak, steaming dumplings in herb gravy, and all manner of fantastical pastries and delicacies crusted with sugar and preserved fruits and jellies.
Temujin fell to with a hearty appetite and downed an enormous meal, washed down with a succession of beverages. There were the green wines of Shazar and Bellerophon, and rich red-golden ales from Netharna and Chorver, and fiery purple Valthome liquor, and chilled goblets of sparkling neol, and yet others to sample. The queer wines and liqueurs of half a hundred worlds were here for the asking.
Chewing a savory slice of Chadorian venison in rich spice-cream sauce, Temujin resigned himself to captivity, with the thought that if all prisons served so regal a fare as this, few men would seek freedom!
Azeera engaged Kirin in conversation. Generally, the thief had a suave and witty way with women. But this radiant and mysterious creature filled him with awe. He could hardly take his eyes off her, or stop listening to the honeyed and seductive music of her warm, purring voice. She exuded a heavy intoxicating aura of sexual allure that was almost overpowering. His eyes clung to her slim bare arms, to the rich curve of hip and thigh, to the sleek, ripe globes of her swelling breasts. He hardly tasted the food or the exquisite wines that were set before him.
Despite her allure, the Earthman strove to keep his wits about him. It seemed obvious that the Witch Queen used the power of her body, the spell of her voice, and the dark sorcery of her eyes to conquer men, and he battled against these seductive magics with all the manhood within him. He found himself wondering at the lovely girls who served the feast—only a woman confident of her own superb beauty would dare surround herself with such charming young slaves. He dwelled upon the insolence implied in this kind of over-weening self-confidence. It suggested a clue to the nature of Azeera; perhaps even a flaw in her defenses. If he could resist her blandishments, disdain them…
“Let me ask, my lady, for a simple answer to a simple question,” he proposed bluntly. Anything to end this verbal parrying and to get to the point. “My companion and I are curious as to your reasons for forcing our ship down on your world.”
Her almond eyes glinted with jewelled fires.
“Very well, then,” she said softly. “A simple answer it shall be. I, too, want to hire you to steal the Medusa.”
He started, but controlled his reaction, hoping that his astonishment was not visible on his face. Before he could think of something to say, she continued.
“Let us abandon all this subterfuge,” Azeera said. “I need you for the same reason Trevelon needs you. Only to a thief of your calibre do I dare entrust so vital a mission. A lesser man might falter and fail, attempting to penetrate the magical defenses that guard the Iron Tower from intruders. Failure can be fatal to my plans, for it will alert the Death Dwarves and the watchers of Trevelon. There can only be one attempt on the Medusa, and I dare not risk failure.”
“What is it about this jewel that makes it so important to so many people?” he mused. She pounced upon the question as a cat might pounce upon a small rodent who had thoughtlessly exposed itself.
“Ah, so the wise men of Trevelon did not tell you that secret, eh?” she laughed, eyes bright with witch-fires of mockery. “I wonder that you trust the grey philosophers, since they obviously do not trust you. Well, I will hold no secrets from you, Kirin of Tellus. The Medusa is the most important thing in the Universe. It is the key to power. With it, one may stretch out his hand and pluck the star worlds like gems to form an Imperial coronet.”
She rose, and the room fell silent. Slim and unbearably lovely in the shimmering gown of metallic silver, she stood like a statuette cast by a master hand from precious metals.
“Come with me, Kirin of Tellus, and I will put into your hands the Secret of the Universe. Come with me … if you dare!”
Her voice rang through the silent vastness of the hall of sphinxes like a war horn, summoning legions to victory. The sirenic witchery of her voice reached out and stirred to life something deep within him, a central core of emotion, a hungering after heroic deeds, a lust for fame and glory, whose existence he had never suspected. He thrilled to the ringing music of her voice and the dark fire within her slanting eyes, and rose numbly to his feet although the fat little thaumaturge plucked feebly at his arm and sought to stay him. He brushed the hand aside impatiently, shrugged off the half-heard protests of the little man. Glory summoned him to high, heroic deeds of valor! And he must respond.
“Lead on, lady,” he said huskily. “And I will come with you…”
Together they left the hall.
Across the dais, seated at a long low table, the shadowy form of the bald Mind Wizard, Pangoy, of Nex, watched them go, with sardonic eyes and a slight mirthless smile that did not hide the bitter agony in his heart. The woman had found a new toy to play with, to mold to her purpose, to fondle for a time, before she cast it broken in the dust…
His eyes narrowed. Not for nothing had the Witch Queen studied the twin arts of semantics and sonics. Her voice became a tool and a weapon of extraordinary subtlety and power. Already the Earthling was enslaved…
6. THE HEART OF KOM YAZOTH
It was a titanic sphere, seven times the height of a man. A silvery mesh formed the substance of the colossal globe that floated on pressor beams above the floor of the black marble chamber. The mesh of wires were woven with such fineness that they were all but invisible to the sight; only in their mass were they visible. Hence, the sphere seemed as a cloudy globe of dim grey mist, shadowy, insubstantial, awesome.
“I call this the Space Mirror,” Azeera said. “I know not what the Ancients named it, but the term will suffice. It was the first of the great treasures I drew from the hidden Vault of Time wherein its masters sealed it a thousand years ago. It is one of the mightiest accomplishments of the science-magic of the Carina Imperials. Through the power of the Mirror, one can gaze at events taking place in any part of the Universe, on any world, no matter how remote from us here. No walls can resist the probing gaze of the Space Mirror. No councils are so secret that I may not eavesdrop upon them through the magic of this misty sphere. Behold!”
She pressed her jewelled ring against a column of milky crystal that rose from the ebon floor. Light flared! The silver mesh glowed with eerie luminance. Shadowy grey turned to a swimming sea of infinitesimal sparks of star-like light that throbbed brighter and brighter until they formed a whirling ball of silver fire. Then the silver globe flashed with a thousand hues… rose-pink and coral, peach gold and palest azure, a velvet blackness wherein emerald sparks burned like cat’s eyes, shimmering mists of opal and mauve spun through with threads of rich crimson flame. And the colors wove into a tapestry that blurred, steadied, and crystallized into a vision so complete in every detail that Kirin shrank back a step, as if he stood before a yawning door through which a mis-step might hurl him to spinning worlds below.