A Plague of Wizards Read online

  Szakhandu took Terra on a tour of the palace that was far more inclusive than she could have ever hoped for, from the top of the observation tower down to the dungeon cells. She saw where the meals were prepared and where the palace guards slept. Everywhere she went, she was the object of wonder by the lizzies, since though most of them had seen a human, at least from afar, they had never seen such a small one. The most interesting sights for the girl were the large cages in a well-guarded courtyard containing dozens of little lizzies. They ranged in size from a little over a foot long, to a few that were as large as she was.

  “Some of them are ready to tame,” she said. “How will you manage so many?”

  “We will have to have bigger huts,” said Szakhandu. “Bigger families.” She used the human word.

  The tour ended in the great dining hall, where the evening meal was already being served. Tables were shaped into a large U with diners seated on the outside. The king’s place was in the very center and his wives were arranged on either side. Szakhandu guided Terra along, introducing her to each of them. She had seen Ssu in the throne room. The third wife was Sirris. She was painted all over with white dots. The fourth was Tokkenoht, painted sky blue with yellow symbols. She wore less gold than the other wives, but had an impressive multicolored cape of feathers.

  Terra was directed to an empty chair on the right hand side of the room. Since the chair was stone, it was too heavy to move. It was easy enough to sit on without moving it back, but once seated, it was quite some distance from the food. It also had no back on which to lean.

  “I will serve you,” said Szakhandu, walking away toward a long table, filled with food, next to the far wall.

  “That is a great honor for an undeserving soft-skin,” said the lizzie seated on Terra’s left, a large female. Another female seated to Terra’s right hissed in agreement.

  “Hospitality says much about the hut,” Terra quoted the lizzie saying. Both lizzies started. While they may or may not have heard human traders attempting spin-n-gag, they had certainly never heard a human speak fluently until now.

  Szakhandu returned with a plate of food, which she set in front of the girl. It was filled with fruits, most of which Terra had seen at home. There was also a small piece of roasted fish and a fist-sized roasted bird. Even the unworldliest lizzies knew that humans cooked their meat.

  Terra realized that she was hungry, even though they had fed her a bowl of stew and piece of bread at the trade office. She carefully tasted what had been set before her. Fruit was fruit. Some she like better than others. She was surprised to find that the meat was bland. Other than a smokiness from the cooking process, there was no seasoning at all.

  A female lizzie came around carrying a bonze pitcher, and the girl remembered that she had a bronze cup sitting on the table in front of her. She held it up and the lizzie filled it. Terra took a drink and nearly choked. It was Ssukhas, the alcoholic drink brewed by the lizzies. Those sitting on either side of her hissed mirthfully.

  The girl tried to listen to as much of the conversation around her as possible, but though she caught bits here and there, it seemed to blend together into a single large gurgle. She satisfied herself with seeing instead, particularly the royals seated to her left. She realized that she was being watched at least as much as she was watching, not by the king, who seemed interested only in his food and drink, but by the queens. Szakhandu’s eyes returned to her again and again, while Tokkenoht’s and Sirris’s seldom left her. Only Ssu paid her no attention.

  The girl’s attention was pulled away from the king’s wives by a kerfuffle at the opposite end of the room. Four warriors entered. Though not as elaborately decked out as the nobles at the tables, they wore far more ornately adorned than any lizzie in Port Dechantagne. The four were dragging a fifth lizzie between them. He was a large male too, though very little remained of his body paint and he was bleeding from numerous minor wounds. The group stopped in front of the king and the warriors forced their captive to kneel.

  Hsrandtuss let out a loud gurgle and climbed over the table, knocking half full plates of food onto the floor and knocking over cups of ssukhas. He staggered a little when he reached the other side, but steadied himself.

  “What in the name of Yessonar’s beard is this?” demanded the king. “Can you not go a week, Stahtokkatut, without disturbing my meal?”

  He looked at the guards. “What was he doing that you had to slice him up?”

  “We didn’t. It was the females of his hut.”

  “More trouble in your hut, Stahtokkatut? You beat females and I let it go, because, for all I know, they needed a good beating. Then you beat the hut elder and I had you whipped. Then you start a fight that injures another male’s tail, so I took a piece of your tail. A smarter male would have learned his lesson by now, or at least moved out of my city!”

  The king turned back to the warriors. “What did he do this time?”

  “He killed all the offspring in the hut’s care.”

  Most of the lizzies in the room didn’t react much to the revelation of infanticide in their city, but the four queens all gurgled angrily. Hsranduss glanced over his shoulder with a growl of annoyance. Then his eyes lighted upon Terra.

  “You! Tiny soft-skin. Come here.”

  Terra climbed out of her chair and walked the long way around the table to come up behind the guards and their prisoners. All of the lizzies towered over her. Even on his knees, the prisoner was as tall as she was.

  “I am here, Great King.”

  “Did you understand everything said so far?”

  “Yes, Great King.”

  “Good. What do you think of this situation?”

  “I find it unpleasant.”

  “Unpleasant? That’s all?”

  “The killing of a child is one of the worst crimes possible among my people, but I know things are different among yours.”

  “Yes, they are different, but they are changing.” Hsrandtuss looked down at Stahtokkatut. “Why did you kill the children?” He used the human word for offspring.

  “They weren’t mine!” hissed the prisoner. “I wanted all the females in my hut to have only my offspring, but they mated with other males!”

  “What do you think I should do with him?” the king asked Terra. “In the past it was not a crime to destroy offspring. No one would have given it a second thought. They were always thought of as pests.” He lowered his voice to that only Terra, the guards, and the prisoner could hear. “If I ask my wives, they will insist that he be flayed alive.”

  “There are going to be more such situations among your people,” said Terra. “What you do now will influence actions in the future.”

  The king held out his hand and one of the warriors placed a lizzie sword in it. The lizzie swords were flat and wooden, like cricket bats, but were studded along the outside edges with sharpened stone, sometimes flint, but in this case obsidian.

  “Stand back,” he said, giving Terra a little shove that sent her back several feet and almost knocked her down.

  Raising the sword above his head, the king brought it down on Stahtokkatut’s neck, slicing deep into it and severing his spine. It was a mortal blow, but it wasn’t enough for Hsrandtuss. He put his foot on the condemned lizzie’s shoulder and wrenched the blade out of the sticky flesh and bone. Then he brought it down again, severing Stahtokkatut’s head completely.

  “Get this out of here,” he said, pointing at the body even now leaving a growing puddle of blood on the floor.

  “There is another matter, Great King,” said one guard, as the others removed the remains.

  “What now?”

  “A human was caught sneaking out of the country without paying your share of the gold he found.”

  “Bring him in,” the king ordered. He looked at the girl. “You’re people are half-crazed in their pursuit of gold.”

  “It is valuable,” she said, nodding toward the gold-adorned queens.

  Two of the
lizzie guards returned carrying a man by the shoulders, his feet six inches off the floor. He was dressed in boots, dungarees, and a khaki shirt and hadn’t shaved in some time. Terra looked carefully at him, but decided that she had never seen him before.

  “We have followed your customs with humans who steel from us,” said Hsrandtuss. “We give them a mark of a thief, on the hand, and then exile them, telling them not to return.”

  When the guards and the prisoner were in front of him, Hsrandtuss handed back the sword. Then he walked over to the table and picked up a steel knife, no doubt purchased in trade from Port Dechantagne. He held the tip over a candle’s flame for at least two minutes before bringing it back. The guard grabbed the man’s left hand and held it out. Hsranduss let out an angry hiss.

  “What is the matter?” asked Terra.

  “He already has a mark. He was marked and banished for steeling from me before.”

  She approached and looked at the prisoner’s hand. At the juncture between his thumb and forefinger was a small triangular scar.

  “Hmm.”

  “What should I do now, little human?”

  “Punishment must follow swift on guilt,” she said. Switching to Brech, she asked the man, “Are you right or left handed?”

  “Why?” he whined.

  “Right or left?”

  “Right handed.”

  “Cut off that hand,” she told Hsrandtuss, pointing to the man’s left.

  “Throw him in a cell,” the king told the guards. “I’ll decide what I want to do with him later.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Terra.

  “We’ve marked and banished a number of your people, but executing or maiming one is not something I will do lightly. Four years ago, I fought a war with the humans for no other reason than that I detained four of them.”

  “It was a war you won.”

  “There was no victor,” said Hsrandtuss, but he flushed his dewlap in pride.

  Terra nodded and walked back around the table to her seat. She ate a few bites of fruit, but she wasn’t really that hungry. She told herself that it was because of all the blood, but her own heart told her it was because she was already homesick.

  When the king left the table, the meal was officially over and all of the other lizzies began filing out. Szakhandu took the human girl by the elbow and led her out of the room and through a maze of corridors to a medium-sized room that Terra recognized, from a description in Cousin Iolana’s book, as a lizzie bathroom. It featured a great tub, some eight feet long and five feet wide, perpetually refilled from an opening at one end. Terra looked down into the water to see that, sure enough, a block of stone had been placed at the bottom upon which she could stand.

  “This is my bath,” said Szakhandu. “We can share it. That is the lizzie way. Or I can leave and bathe when you are finished.”

  “When in Zur,” Terra said to herself, as she began disrobing. “We shall share,” she said to the lizzie.

  When she was undressed, she slipped into the cool water. Immediately, a servant came and carried away her clothing, leaving a stack of soft towels. Another left a dish of some kind of gel next to the water, and a third brought in what looked like a bed sheet and hung it on a peg on the wall.

  “These drying cloths are made by your people,” said Szakhandu, slipping into the water. “They have become very popular here. Use the lalcoa to clean yourself.”

  Terra scooped a bit of the gel, and rubbing it between her fingers, formed a handful of foamy suds, which she applied to her hair.

  “Since you have no other clothes, and I understand humans do not even sleep without their paint and feathers, I have had that large cloth brought. Perhaps you can wrap yourself in it.”

  The girl finished washing herself, all the time keeping an eye on her companion. The lizzie swam in a circle, first near the surface and then down near the bottom. It was a great deal like taking a bath with an alligator. By the time Szakhandu climbed out of the tub, Terra had already dried off and wrapped herself, toga-like, in the sheet.

  The lizzie queen, now denuded of body paint, led her back to the hearth room. Five reptilians were already there. Terra could recognize Hsrandtuss, but while she could tell the females apart without their paint, she doubted that other humans would have been able. They all lay on their stomachs with their snouts pointed toward the fire. Ssu was not on her own sleeping mat, but instead was pressed up to the king’s side with their tails entwined. To their left was Tokkenoht. It was clear, now that her blue paint had been removed, that she had almost perfect emerald skin. Beyond her was Sirris who, without her paint and jewelry, looked like an average female.

  Szakhandu took her place to Hsrandtuss’s right, and Terra’s sleeping mat was the one just beyond that. She noticed as she lay down that both her helmet and her pistol were gone. She decided to ask about them later.

  On the other side of the fire pit were the other three sleeping mats. Two of them, one presumably belonging to Ssu, were empty. A wrinkled old male occupied the third. He too, lay on his stomach, immobile, but his eyes were open and watching. Terra took her spot. Lying on her stomach, she couldn’t have faced the fire like the lizzies, so she lay on her side and used her arm as a pillow.

  “Tsollot,” said Hsrandtuss. “Tell us a story.”

  The old lizzie struggled to get up into a sitting position, but at last he achieved it, balancing on his tail.

  “What story would you like?”

  “Tell us something appropriate for our guest.”

  “Some years ago,” the old lizzie began, “far to the west of here was the small village of Hiisierra. Hiisierra was a prosperous town, built on a crossroads. It traded with many other cities as far away as Tsahloose. The old king, Hisstandik, was a good king and a good warrior. He survived many battles, but was killed by a crocodile. His chosen successor was a handsome young warrior.”

  “I know who it was,” whispered Ssu.

  “Quiet, you,” said Tsollot. Then he continued.

  “The new king decided to trade with the soft-skins, who then, were new and not very numerous. Because of this and his other wise decisions, Hiisierra flourished. But it was not the only village in the region. Hiisierra had a traditional rival—Hiikhuu. Hiikhuu had a new young king too, a young tough named Tokkentott.”

  Tsollot groaned as he changed his position.

  “Sirris, go rub so oil on Tsollot,” demanded the king, but Tsollot waved her off. Finding a new position, he started his story again.

  “Tokkentott wanted to trade with the soft-skins too, but he didn’t understand them, and only made them angry. So instead, he attacked the traders returning to Hiisierra and stole their trade goods. This made the young king of Hiisierra very angry, and rightly so. It could have started a war, but the king had a better idea. He took five of his bravest warriors and snuck into Hiikhuu on a night with no moon. They recaptured all the trade goods that had been stolen. But better than that, the young king stole a female from Tokkentott’s own hut—the most beautiful female in the world.”

  “She was not the most beautiful female in the world!” growled Szakhandu, and Sirris gurgled in agreement.

  “She was the most beautiful female in the world,” insisted Tokkenoht. “But the king was not so young as the story would indicate.”

  Ssu hissed in indignation.

  “Why do all your stories cause discord at my hearth, old one?” asked Hsrandtuss.

  “It is not the story, Great King. It is the contentiousness of females.”

  “He is right,” said Tokkenoht. “That story was told most correctly.”

  “You were the female stolen from Hiikhuu,” noted Terra. “And the young king was Hsrandtuss.”

  “As I said, young is not really a good word.”

  “Handsome though,” said Sirris.

  “Brave,” said Ssu.

  “Fat,” said Tokkenoht.

  “Shut up, all of you,” said Hsrandtuss. “Can’t you see the tiny
soft-skin is sleepy?”

  Chapter Seven: Stands Up Tall With A King

  Knowing that she had lived a privileged and easy life, Terra expected that the lizzies would get up earlier than she would, so that upon rising, she would find herself alone in the hearth room. That wasn’t the case. She was the first one up. She stood and stretched, surprised also that, even with no pillow and practically no mattress, her back was not sore. As she stood wondering where her clothes might be, she heard her stomach growl. She didn’t remember seeing a laundry, but she did recall seeing where the food was prepared, and she thought she could find it. So, wrapping the sheet around her, she started off in search of something to break her fast.

  It didn’t take her long to find the kitchen, where there was no one about. Looking through several large pots along the wall, she discovered a cache of dragon fruit. She had eaten the red and green pokey orbs before, but found them bland and not very filling. Continuing with her search, she soon discovered a kiwi, a green melon, and thank Kafira, some strawberries. With a bronze knife that had been left sitting on the counter nearby, she cleaned and cut all the fruit, making herself a little salad. She used the hollowed out melon rind as a bowl.

  Holding the makeshift container in one hand, she used the other to pass the pieces of fruit to her mouth. She ate as she walked back to the hearth room. Along the way she passed several servants going here and there. The palace was beginning to come to life. In fact, when she arrived back in the hearth room, all of those who had been asleep, were now awake. Ssu and Sirris were up and gone. A servant was helping old Tsollot out of the room. Both Szakhandu and Tokkenoht were in close consultation with Hsrandtuss.

  “There you are,” said the King when he saw Terra. “Some were afraid you had run away or gotten lost.”

  “No,” said the girl.

  “What do you have there?” He waved for her to approach.

  She held out her fruit salad for his inspection.

  “Look at this,” the king said to the two queens. “She made a bowl out of this melon. This is why humans are so dangerous. They are always coming up with something new.”