Free The Sword of Skelos by Andrew Offutt Page A

him.
    The enthroned man gazed with dark, dark eyes at the mage.
    “My lord Khan, the Eye of Erlik is once again on its way south from Arenjun.”
    “What? Good!”
    “I escry that it is in the possession of an Iranistani and that same one who has it of Hisarr Zul… and Isparana.”
    Akter Khan’s face lost a bit of ruddiness. “An Iranistani! Erlik protect! Zafra:
Which of them has the Eye
?”
    The wizard stood before the throne now, at the base of the dais whose steps were carpeted in blue the color of the khan’s over-robe or surcoat. His gaze slewed to the wall behind and to the left of the throne. A sword hung there, sheathed, alone on the wall. Gems flashed on the sword’s hilt. The sheath was supported by two braces that were of gold, or gilded. The mage’s cold snake’s eyes met his khan’s gaze.
    “Alas my lord, my powers are not unlimited. The two travel close together and I can be certain only that the amulet travels with them. Only were they to separate would I know which bears the Eye.”
    “You are well kept, Zafra,” Akter Khan said. “Your chamber adjoins the very throneroom. At your signal I emptied this room and at your gesture I dismissed my vizir! You want for nothing here. I want more information.”
    Zafra felt it wise to bow—however briefly and shallowly. “No man in the world could tell you so much as I already have, lord Khan of Zamboula. This I swear by my beard and my power! The Eye of Erlik gives off an aura, because it is an object created in sorcery. Were it among three persons, though, or even ten, not even the most adept of those famed sorcerers of demon-shadowed Stygia could say which of them held it, until he parted from the others. I have the amulet located, lord Khan. I can keep watch as it approaches. I shall. It is far from us, now. Whichever of those two men has it, we can take it easily once they are near enough. Meanwhile Akter Khan:
they
approach
us
, and we need take no action. I shall watch.”
    “Unless they should swerve to eastward, to avoid Zamboula on their way to Iranistan!”
    “I shall maintain watch, my lord. I believe that they are south of the Road of Kings. Yet should they turn eastward, toward the sea, there is no way we can get men there before them.”
    Akter Khan’s fingers drummed the silver-threaded arm of his chair of state; his nails clicked. “Watch those two, Zafra, and report to me thrice daily, no less. Sooner, if they change direction or you ascertain which of them carries the Eye.”
    “Yes, Khan of Zamboula. Of course. At least we now know that the amulet is again wending its way toward us.”
    “Or toward Iranistan. That must not happen!”
    “They are weeks away, my lord Akter. We will know. My lord need not worry. I will keep you apprised.”
    “Ummm. And still we know naught of Karamek and Isparana! Plague take—Hafar!
Hafar!
Best I make another contribution to the temples of Erlik and of Yog, for surely some god is angry with me and I cannot believe it is Hanuman! Hafar!”
    When Hafar entered Zafra the mage was departing, and the Khan of Zamboula had twisted about to stare at the sword on the wall. He did so several times daily, and Hafar wondered at its meaning for his lord, and at Zafra’s influence.
    Zafra, meanwhile, closed his door behind him and leaned against the panels to stare at the woman who waited. Even as he secured the door, she smiled and let her single garment drop from her in an amethystine puddle at her feet.
    “Chia,” he breathed. “You should
not
come here. Must I take to locking the corridor door?”
    She smiled lazily and flaunted a hip. On it lay a delicate gold chain, which was slung across the lower curve of her deep-naveled belly. It was all she wore now save for her rings, and it, like Zafra’s pendant, was a gift of her lord the khan.
    “But who can stay away?” she asked softly. “Come, and make your Tigress purr.”
    The man most favored by the Khan of Zamboula went to the woman most