Safar snapped his fingers again, returning him to dumbness.
"Don't bother with your lies, Safar said. I've spoken to my father. I know what's going on here. And I know you're responsible."
He leaned closer, face inches away from Kalasariz. For your sake, I hope I've made myself clear."
Kalasariz choked on an answer rising up in his frozen throat. Another snap of the fingers and it burst out.
"Yes! Very clear!"
"I'll decide whether to continue to let you live after you've helped us with the demons, Safar said. How many pieces of you remain to enjoy that life is entirely up to you."
Some of Kalasariz craft returned to him and with it, boldness.
Still, he stumbled on his first attempt. I can do more than rid Kyrania of the demons, AcoI mean, my friend."
Safar seemed amused. You almost called me acolyte, didn't you? he said. Odd, isn't it, how things change? The grand become small. He gestured at Kalasariz. The small become grand. He touched his breast.
Kalasariz recovered from his mistake. He smiled that old thin smile.
"Yes, it is odd, Lord Timura, he said. But you see how easily I can change with the events? Your new title comes flows smoothly to my lips, sir. And I must say it fits very you very well."
Safar chuckled. You're good, Kalasariz. I have to admit that."
The spymaster moved for that gap. Good enough, Lord Timura, to be of immense value to your king. I know the demon court well. I know King Manacia, Prince Luka and their Grand Wazier, Lord Fari. I know their weaknesses, which are legion, and other important things as well.
"King Protarus might be very angry with you if something happened to me and he missed such a great opportunity."
"Oh, it's an absolute certainty that Protarus would want to hear all these things, Safar said. Preferably from your living lips, rather than a dry report I made after I tortured the information from you.
"But understand this, Kalasariz. The king and I are friends. Close friends. If I killed you I would go to him and confess my error. Then I'd excuse myself, saying, But I couldn't help it, Iraj!
He paused, chilling Kalasariz with his easy grin. I call him Iraj in private, you know. And he calls me Safar. Just like when we were boys playing together."
Then he went on, Anyway, I'd say, I couldn't help it, Iraj! I had this sudden hate for him. I wanted his blood to answer for his crimes against me and my family. Then I'd hang my head in shame and wonder aloud if my mistake was so grave that it might cost us many more lives to win the war.
"And you know what he'd say? He'd say, and Safar deepened his voice to sound like Protarus, 'Well it couldn't be helped, Safar. I'd have done the same thing in your place. When blood cries, it must be answered. Come, my friend. Let us send for the women and strong drink. We'll mourn your failings like men should. We'll get drunk together and pleasure ourselves until dawn!
Kalasariz stomach burned as if lava had flowed into it.
Safar laughed at his discomfort.
"You see how it is for you? he said to Kalasariz. You understand your position."
"Yes, Lord Timura, Kalasariz said, barely controlling the quiver in his voice. I understand quite well."
He heard a rustle in the woods and saw several soldiers step out behind Safar. They wore the uniforms of Protarus men.
Then he noticed the soldier leading the group was remarkably handsome.
No… beautiful! And it was a woman, not a man.
She came up to Safar. That was magnificently done, Lord Timura, she said.
But her voice was low and the way she spoke revealed that she called him by more loving names in private.
She gave Safar such a look of adoration it crept past Kalasariz numbness and lit his cunning.
Adoring women, he thought, can be very dangerous.
Both to the enemy of the man who'd earned that devotion.
And to the man himself.
Kalasariz raised his cup in a toast. My friends, he said, this night is just one more proofno matter how smallof King Manacia's grand vision of a united Esmir."
He glanced around the open air banquet area. Rough board tables were spread across a freshly mowed lawn. Immense mounds of food were heaped on the tables, with jugs of heady Kyranian wine running down the center. Demons, scores of demons, sat before the tables, fixing him with their yellow eyes. Cups lifted expectantly, waiting for him to end his toast.
"Even here in far Kyrania, he continued, a human sits among his demon brethren, supping and drinking. An equal among equals. A mortal"
"Oh, finish the damned toast, Kalasariz! the big demon sitting beside him growled. I'm thirsty!"
"Yes, well, uh, Kalasariz faltered, UhHere's to King Manacia! Long may he reign."
The demons shouted approval, downed their drinks and turned back to their tables, refilling goblets and stuffing their maws with steaming food.
Nervously, Kalasariz slopped wine in his cup and downed it in one quick gulp. Hidden under his clothingnext to his skinwas the stone idol, so warm with anticipation it was almost hot. Once in awhile he even heardquite faintlyGundara's excited hiss of Shut up, shut up, to his twin. Kalasariz had been warned that any suspicious action would bring the little Favorite boiling out to punish him.
Moving through the tables were human slaves, heads low, platters high, going from demon to demon to offer more delicacies. The demons ate greedily, as if all the free food supplied by Kalasariz in this spontaneous banquet had made them more ravenous than normal.
"Would the master wish more wine? murmured a voice at his elbow. It was Safar, dressed as a slave and bearing a jug. The other humans in the banquet area were his soldiers posing as slaves, all waiting for the signal to strike.
"Yes, please, Kalasariz said, offering his cup. It was refilled and Safar bowed humbly and stepped back.
"Why are you so polite to him? the demonwhose name was Quanasked. Are you drunk?"
"No, no, I'm not drunk, Kalasariz said.
"That's your problem, then, Quan said. You're distracted by a low level of spirited fluids. That's why you're spoiling our slaves, instead of giving them good solid blows for asking, instead of anticipating.
"Your cup was empty. He should have filled it!"
Quan turned to Safar. Do the same to me, you little human worm, he said, and I'll bite off your head."
"Yes, exalted one, Safar said, bobbing his head. Thank you, exalted one."
Quan turned back to Kalasariz. You see? That's how it's done!"
"I'll remember that, Quan, Kalasariz said. It's good advice."
A beautiful slave girlLeiria in disguisemoved along his table, bearing a tray of roasted kabobs. They smelled so delicious Kalasariz almost forgot the danger he was in. As she approached, hot kabob grease sputtering and splattering, his mouth filled with water.
He reached out a hand to grab a spear as she went by. Safar stepped between them, raising the jug and then leaning over, pretending to top up the wine cup.
"Don't eat the kabobs, he whispered, then withdrew.
Kalasariz suddenly found his mouth had gone dry thinking about what he'd almost done.
Beside him Quan munched with much gusto. This is delicious, Kalasariz, he said. You should try it!"
He waved the spear of savory meat beneath Kalasariz nose. The delicious odor, magically enhanced, was so powerful he nearly forgot himself again. He snatched his hand back just in time.
"I wish I could, he said, making a mournful face. It does smell wonderful. But I'm forbidden to eat lamb this month. My religion, you know."
All over the banquet area the other demons were gobbling down the kabobs, smacking their lips, wiping their chins and shouting for the slaves to bring more.