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in her eyes, a swift betraying gleam of sympathy? I was not sure.
But she said: Zankov may overrate himself. But he is one of us. You are a southerner a clansman
prince.
If I were. And is that all? That the Prince Majister is a stranger?
Aye! said Firn, looking at me with scathing contempt. Her red hair looked marvelous. She breathed
deeply and unsteadily. A stranger. A stranger to Vallia for all of the time. A no-good calsany, a rast who
betrays those who love him.
The bewilderment would not leave me. I looked around them, at those lovely faces, all flushed and
bright-eyed, all staring accusingly at me. Contempt, hatred, disgust all were written clear on those fair
faces ringing me.
I shook my head.
Zankov held his throat, croaking, trying to speak and unable to force out a sound. The marks of my
fingers glowed in livid weals.
I ll go, I said. And I will go peacefully. By Vox! But if I really were this Prince Majister then I truly
think I d begin to feel a little sorry for myself.
I did not. But I wanted to test still further the way the wind blew. But no one responded.
Trylon Udo had summoned male guards. He did not know it; but that was a mistake. Had he done so
before, I might be away from here now, cleaning up a blood-splattered sword. As it was, I had said I
would go peacefully, and so I went. Spear points ringed me as I started off. It was left to Udo to have
the last word.
The reports are true; and yet I harbor a doubt. He was speaking to Zillah and Jodi. Prescot is a Hyr
Jikai only through the proclamations; he is a puffed-up image, we all know that. And yet
He took the spear smartly enough, Udo.
Yes, well, that is a common trick. Guard him well. You have a great prize there, for the Princess
Majestrix will pay an emperor s ransom for him. That is well known.
I heard a gasp at my back, and I turned. The girls tautened up instantly; but I raised a hand to calm
them. I decided not to let the trylon have the last word, after all.
It is well known, Udo. Do you know also that she will have your head and your tripes into the
bargain?
And with that I, Dray Prescot, Prince Majister of Vallia, did my best to stalk out.
Fifteen
Of San Guiskwain the Witherer
They tied me up as they would tie up any common criminal and chucked me into a narrow wooden
stockade by the town wall. Captive I was a captive once more. Well, by Zair, I ve been captive
before on Kregen and plenty of times since that occasion in Hockwafernes. Being a Captive of Kregen is
an occupational hazard to a wild leem of a fellow like me. Or so I am led to believe.
The guards were prattling on about the great news the trylon had brought and how on the morrow the
tremendous ceremony would be performed and all the promised and looked-for supernatural powers
would come to the assistance of the Hawkwas.
Male and female guards took turn and turn about to stand watch outside the wooden cell.
The thongs broke free after a bur or so. I stretched and felt the blood tingling. They didn t know me,
then. . .
So far I have spared you the innumerable aphorisms widely current upon Kregen attributed to San
Blarnoi. He was either a real person of wide learning or a consortium of misty figures of the dim past.
Either way, many sayings are attributed to San Blarnoi. He is a fount of wisdom, both superficial and of
deeper significance, and among the many maxims are to be found one or two to fit almost any situation.
Some are merely of the order of: San Blarnoi he say. . . Others are Christmas Cracker mottoes in
scope. Some give a little comfort or insight.
It was Filbarrka na Filbarrka who first told me of the saying that I used now. Filbarrka, as you know, is
that wide and marvelous area south and east of the Blue Mountains that is zorca country supreme. I think
there are few finer zorcas bred on Kregen anywhere else. Filbarrka ran the area. He was not a Blue
Mountain boy. His name and that of the land were as one.
Anyway, in his bluff, red-faced, cheerful way he d once cautioned me: As San Blarnoi says, waiting is
shortened by preparation.
I had the remainder of the day to wait through. It was clearly useful to be able to spend that waiting time
in this prison cell as a captive, out of mischief. If this sounds paradoxical, it is; but it was, nonetheless for
that, true.
So, unwilling to break out at once, I perforce followed San Blarnoi s dictum and prepared myself in the
only way left. I thought. I pondered the problem.
Dayra would arrive on the morrow. And on the morrow the trylon would produce his miracle that would
make his army invincible. He was well known in the occult areas, and had a wizard in his employ, not a
Wizard of Loh, who was one of these renowned Northeast Vallian sorcerers, a Hawkwa necromancer.
Natyzha Famphreon had spoken of them, calling the ghastly practitioners Opaz-forsaken
corpse-revivers.
Brooding in my cell it occurred to me I might wisely pay a visit to the ceremony on the morrow. Dayra
must come first. But from the guards conversation I learned further disquieting information as the day
wore on. The rumor of the arrest of the Lord Farris on treason charges was confirmed. And, with him,
other men I would have sworn loyal to the emperor had been imprisoned. I had distinguished company
as I languished in prison. Also, an army had landed in the south, west of Ovvend, and was marching on
Vondium. This news caused me grave concern. That the army had come from Pandahem seemed reliable
information. The emperor had marched out to destroy them. Everyone awaited the outcome. There had
been only a slight panic in Vondium. I chafed. But, this close, I had set my thoughts and desires on
Dayra, and I was not prepared to change my direction now.
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