In the days when wizards were common and not yet too powerful, the War Horns of Ardhan had been enchanted. They weren't the War Horns of Ardhan then, for this was before Ardhan existed as a kingdom, but the enchantment was strong enough to last through the Doom of the Wizards when the ancient world was ripped asunder, making the War Horns one of the great treasures of the resettlement. When raised in answer to a summons from the crown, the call of the Horns would sound in every corner of the kingdom.

As soon as Crystal was certain all the War Horns had been safely delivered, the queen walked out to the center of the "meadow-that-had-bcen-the-palace"

and handed the kneeling Duke of Belkar his horn. The entire town's population, massed about the edges of the meadow, held its breath as he lifted the ancient horn to his lips and blew.

The note rose piercingly clear and hung in the air. It got into the blood and bones of the people and hung there. "To war!" it called, and the men and women who moved toward the gathering places moved a little faster.

Cei, then Lorn, then Hale, then Aliston; from the corners of the kingdom all the lords answered the call save Riven.

"He travels very slowly, " Mikhail reminded Tayer as they made their way in procession back to Belkar's townhouse, "and is not likely to answer until he's at Riven Seat and has returned his family to the arms of the Mother. "

What young Riven thought, as he moved slowly across the land with his preserved dead and his grief, he let no one know. But after the five horns sounded, he drew even deeper into himself.

The man with the red-gold hair and the brittle blue eyes stood listening within his tower and when it became clear that the sixth note would not be heard, he laughed. Calling a gray-robed Scholar to him, he began to make plans.

"It's probably still not too late to go to Kraydak and surrender, " Lapus said quietly as he and Crystal walked with the rest of the court through the streets. His tone was so matter-of-fact he might have been discussing the raisin buns they'd had for breakfast.

Crystal stopped dead and a minor court official stepped on the train of her gown. She didn't hear his muttered and fervent apologies, for Lapus had kept walking and she had to hurry to catch up. The minor official, thankful he wasn't to be turned into something unpleasant, left the procession at the earliest opportunity.

"I could what?" she demanded of the Scholar when she stood beside him again.

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"Kraydak would then rule Ardhan, of course, but it would avert the war and save many lives. "

"It wouldn't avert anything. They'd fight without me. "

"I merely suggested an alternative. "

"Alternative!" Crystal snorted. The day was hot, the ceremonial robes were heavy and she wanted a cold drink. "Lapus, you say some really stupid things sometimes. "

On a hot summer day the court-the queen, her consort, their attendants, the Duke of Belkar, his attendants, the Elite, the Palace Guard, supply wagons, one Scholar, and the wizard-and seven hundred and fortyone soldiers in the newly formed Ardhan army gathered together to set out for Hale.

"Mother, save us, " Crystal whistled softly as she cantered up to the head of the march with Lapus. "They're bringing everything but the scullery sink. "

"Look again, milady. There, on that large wagon... "

Crystal looked where Lapus pointed and her eyes widened in astonishment.

Touching her heels lightly to the sides of her horse, she rode the length of the column to where the queen stood, going over a lengthy list with someone Crystal assumed was the Quartermaster of the March.

"Mother, " she called. "Is all this really necessary? We go to war, not off on the grand tour. "

Tayer was tired and irritable. Most of the bureaucracy had died in the palace and although the new staff did their best, they had no experience in handling a move of this size. Besides Tayer and Mikhail, only six of the eight surviving upper servants had even seen a grand tour. No one since the time of the Lady had moved the court to war. Work the queen would normally delegate to someone else, she had to do herself.

"Yes, " she snapped, "it is all really necessary. You may be able to conjure food and shelter out of thin air and the Elite may be ready to travel for days on journey bread and water, the rest of us mere mortals cannot. "

Crystal jerked back in the saddle. She hadn't thought her gentle mother capable of that tone of voice.

"But we'll travel so slowly... "

"Kraydak has waited for you for hundred of years, I doubt he'll care about a few more weeks. " Then she turned back to the lists, clearly dismissing her daughter.

Sighing, Crystal turned her horse, about to head back to her place in line, when she noticed Mikhail standing and staring up into the branches of a large oak. Curious, for her stepfather wore the plain gray uniform of the Elite and his troops were some distance away from where he stood, she moved toward him.

"What do you make of those, " he asked as she reined in. He pointed up at three huge crows perched in the tree watching the departure preparations with beady eyes.

"Kraydak's creatures, " Crystal told him without hesitation. The carrion stench from them was so strong she wondered it didn't trouble the tree. She took the reins in one hand and covered her nose with the other. "He's probably using their eyes. "

"We'll see about that, " Mikhail rumbled. He waved three archers out of the ranks and they trotted over to his side.

"Do you see those birds?" he asked them.

They did.

"Do you think you can hit them. "

The eldest of the three stared at Mikhail in disbelief. "Meaning no disrespect, milord, but we could hardly miss if we threw the arrows by hand. "

Mikhail grinned and stepped out of their way. "Be my guest. "

The three strung their bows; each put an arrow to the string, and let fly. The arrows traveled about three feet and then burst into flames so intense that they fell to the ground as a light shower of ash.

"Again, " Mikhail commanded.

The same thing happened.

The archers stood shuffling their feet nervously. They didn't like fighting wizardry, especially when it was so obvious that they couldn't fight it. As one, their lips moved in a brief prayer to the Mother and they turned to stare at Crystal. Easily readable on their faces was the memory of the words she'd spoken to the assembled army the night before: "Remember, you won't be fighting the wizard, I will. "

Crystal moved her horse forward until she sat almost directly under the tree, never taking her eyes off the crows. They stared back, three triangular heads turned to one side so they could each watch her with a bilious yellow eye.

"One chance, Kraydak" she. called, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin defiantly. She was acutely conscious of being observed by Mikhail and the three archers. "Recall your servants or lose them. "

"Caw, " replied a crow derisively.

"If that's the way you want it, " Crystal said and her eyes began to glow, "then burn. "

For a very little while nothing happened-the wizard stared at the birds, the birds stared at the wizard-then suddenly all three crows ignited and disappeared within sheets of flame.

One of the archers cheered as Kraydak's spies were reduced to greasy smears on the tree branch.

"Now that's more like it, " Mikhail laughed, slapping Crystal's leg affectionately. "Well done. " He coughed and waved his hand about to clear the noxious smoke, heavy with the smell of burned feathers and cooked crow. "We'd better get out of this stuff though, if we want to be in any shape to travel."

Crystal rode back to the head of the column in a much better frame of mind.

She'd easily broken through the protective spells that Kraydak had wrapped around the crows. This was what she was meant to do, what she had been trained for. She would have been even happier had she thought Kraydak cared.

The archers returned to their place and told their mates of how the princess had let that murdering wizard know who ruled in Ardhan. The story spread and grew, becoming less accurate but more morale-boosting with every telling.

When the army finally got underway, it traveled as slowly as Crystal had feared. The queen, Mikhail, and the Duke of Belkar, accompanied by their standard-bearers, rode in front. Crystal and Lapus followed, the former letting her mind wander, the latter watching her expressions from the concealment of his cowl. And then came the remnants of the Palace Guard and the surviving Elite, both already recruiting from the body of the army. And then the army of Ardhan, cavalry leading infantry-an order the infantry heartily wished reversed, horses being horses. And then the wagons. And then, behind them all, a crow. Who looked as bored as Crystal felt.

The company kept to the King's Road between Belkar and Hale. It was not the most direct route, but it was the easiest.

"After all, " as Crystal said with quiet sarcasm to Lapus, "there are the wagons to consider. "

The first night, when they camped, the Quartermaster of the March escorted Crystal to her tent. He ignored her protests when she saw its size, and held open the flap for her to enter.

A curtain divided the tent into two parts. The outer section had been set up as a sitting room and furnished with several ornate pieces of furniture.

Crystal recognized the large divan with the clawed feet as coming from the Duke of Belkar's townhouse. With a sigh she lifted the curtain and froze. In one corner of the second room was her bed from the townhouse with a fresh change of clothes laid out on the counterpane. In the other was a steaming bath smelling faintly of lilies of the valley, and waiting beside the bath was her maid.

The girl dropped a brief curtsy and managed not to giggle at Crystal's expression.

"Mother!" Crystal protested, barging into the queen's tent after a very unprincesslike dash across the camp. "No one takes their maid to war!"

"Queens and princesses do, " Tayer told her calmly. And that was the end of that.

"As long as we're dragging the tub along with us, I suppose I might as well bathe in it. And actually, " Crystal admitted to Lapus as they traveled, "I'm even getting used to the maid. "

Lapus almost smiled. "They may make a princess of you yet. "

"No. " Crystal's mouth set in a hard line and a green light flared in the depths of her eyes. "I am a wizard. I have to be. "

"Then you had best learn to be both because, as you well know, you are also the only heir to the throne. "

And Lapus told her the story-which she'd heard many times from the tutors she and Bryon had shared as children-of how the seven dukes and their people had come out of the North after the War between the Wizards and the Dragons destroyed their lands. They had settled in the land that would become Ardhan.

Quarrels had erupted and holding went to war against holding, duke against duke. When much of the land had been made waste and many people had been killed, the dukes came to their senses and were horrified at what they'd done.

They cast lots and one among them was set up as king over them all, to be a judge, an impartial arbitrator they could bring their quarrels to instead of solving them by the sword. Then the land was divided into six relatively equal provinces which were given the names of the six remaining dukes; Belkar, Cei, Lorn, Aliston, Hale, and Riven. The king gave his name to the land but he would claim no province as his own, all and none of the land was his. The dukes planned a town where each would have a house, a capital city with a palace from which the king could govern. Again they drew lots, this time to choose the province in which the King's Town would be located, and Belkar lost the draw. From that first king came all the Kings and Queens of Ardhan in an unbroken line. The Ducal Houses might branch, but the Royal House stayed true.

The Royal House was the glue that held Ardhan together. It was the country's focus, its stability, and Crystal was the last of the line.

"If I lose, " she sighed, "it won't be a problem. "

"But the prophecy says you may win, " Lapus reminded her. "What then?"

What then, indeed? Would she be willing to give up her power and be a princess for her people's sake? Would she even be able to or would the ways of wizard and princess be fighting within her forever? The weapon the centaurs had forged had nothing of the princess about it; could she hope to win with her powers thus flawed? She had a lot to think about as the army plodded toward Hale.

As the heat of the water worked its magic on muscles stiff from another day in the saddle, Crystal let her head fall back against the edge of the tub and her eyes drift closed.

Oh, you have quite definitely won this point, Mother, she thought, languidly moving her hands through the scented liquid.

"Shall I wash your hair, Highness?"

Crystal managed a nod and then sighed with pleasure as strong hands lifted the sodden mass of silver hair, added soap, and began to massage her scalp. For this, she decided, I would almost agree to be princess. She gave herself totally over to the skilled ministrations of her maid and let her mind wander where it would.

Contented and relaxed, nearly asleep, she felt the fingers change their motion and the pressure against her head became almost a caress.

"Time to rinse. "

With no more warning than that, her head was shoved below the surface of the water.

"What... "As bathwater sucked into her nose and mouth with her involuntary gasp of surprise, Crystal fought to remain calm. She didn't struggle; she continued the motion of her attacker, sinking down to the bottom of the tub and out from under those hands. Then she twisted and rose, eyes blazing, to face her enemy.

"Very good, " said a voice not her maid's, yet issuing from her maid's mouth.

The girl's brown eyes had turned a brilliant blue. "And very nice. "

Crystal clamped down on her power, releasing it now would only hurt the girl.

Realizing the direction of the second comment, she snatched up her robe and put it on, ignoring the fabric floating about her legs.

"Get out!" she commanded, dragging a sleeve across the water streaming from her nose.

"As you wish, milady. " The girl bowed mockingly and turned to leave the tent.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Get out of Anna!"

"Anna?" Kraydak walked the maid's body back to its position by the bath. "What a pretty name. " He picked up the mirror that lay on the bed and studied the face he wore. "So is she. Pretty. " Features blurred and she wasn't any longer. He turned to Crystal and a lift of now scraggly brows said clearly, your move.

Carefully, biting her lip in concentration, for she had neither the older wizard's training nor his years of experience, Crystal rebuilt what Kraydak had torn down. She knew she did exactly as he wished, that, for reasons of his own, he tested her, but she couldn't refuse the challenge and let Anna suffer.

Better her pride take the blow than an innocent girl.

Kraydak merely watched in the mirror, his eyes amused. "Very good, " he said again when she finished, and caused Anna's head to nod approvingly.

Crystal flushed with pleasure at the tone of warm praise and then was immediately appalled as she realized it. "What... what are you doing here?" she managed at last in a voice neither as forceful nor as self-assured as she would have wished.

"Oh, I just came to see how you were getting along. " He smiled a dazzling smile with Anna's mouth. "To let you know I need not rely on messengers but can be at your side in an instant, turning friend to foe. " He looked her over, eyes lingering on breast and hip, the curves pressing damply through the thin cotton of her robe. "Now that I've got a good look at you, however, a few other ways of passing the time come to mind. But alas... " Anna's hands fluttered along her body. "... I find myself woefully ill-equipped. "

"Well if things are so woeful where you are, maybe you'd better go back where you came from. "

"Throw me out, " he told her, spreading his arms in a gesture of surrender.

"You can do it. I can feel the power you command. "

Deceiver, the centaurs had named him. Lies, they said, fell from his lips in numbers too large to be counted. But this time, did he speak truth? Was he so far extended, his power spread so thin she could, if not defeat him, at least cast him forth? The temptation to find out was very great.

"No. If I throw you out, I'll destroy Anna, burn out her mind. "

"So? You don't particularly like her. What difference would it make?"

"It would make me no better than you. " Her chin went up and her eyes narrowed. "I won't stoop to your tactics to win. "

"You won't win, child. " His voice was stern. "You haven't got what it takes.

Winning means sacrifice. You aren't even willing to sacrifice this... this... nonentity to get me out of your tent. You amuse me, Crystal. " Again his eyes stared through her robe. "You fascinate me. But you are no danger to me. " He smiled one last time and the brilliant blue of his eyes began to darken.

"Until the battlefield. " Suddenly the eyes turned brown again and Anna collapsed to the carpet.

Some hours later, Anna woke with no memory of her subjugation. Although mortified by the thought, she was willing to believe she'd fainted. Thankful that the girl had not been hurt, Crystal was still more relieved that she wouldn't be spreading panicked tales of the enemy's assault throughout the army.

Crystal herself told no one of Kraydak's visit. When nothing could be done-and nothing could-why add to the weight of worry? She had a fair idea of the power it took to so manipulate another's body and while it frightened her-for it offered further proof of just how great a power was his to command-it reassured her as well. He was too canny to deplete his reserves again as the battle drew closer. A wizard did not survive as long as Kraydak had by taking foolish risks.

But even as she comforted herself with this, even as she breakfasted, mounted, and moved one day closer to Hale, she scanned the eyes of everyone she met, knowing they just might be a certain uniquely chilling shade of brilliant blue.

No cheering crowd lined the road, for only fools and madmen cheer a war, but stragglers joined them daily and those who stayed behind looked up from their work to watch them pass.

Crystal felt the young woman's eyes on her from the moment the girl became visible by the side of the road. The intensity of the stare drew a throbbing line of power between them. Slowly, as they rode closer, features began to develop; average height, slightly plump, with honey colored hair worn short and curly. The original bright colors of her clothes were faded with many washings and she was barefoot. She stood with her feet apart, holding her elbows in large capable hands. She ignored the rest of the march, never moving her gaze away from Crystal.

When Crystal was close enough, she threw herself into the heart of the green fires. And surprisingly, because she had an anchor those fires couldn't touch, she pulled herself out again.

Crystal received a kaleidoscopic vision of the young woman's life. Chickens figured prominently. Chickens and a man with a square jaw, a broken nose, and black brows that drew a line straight across his forehead. He was holding a chick, still damp and helpless from the shell, holding it, protecting it. Then it was a child who had his father's brows but his mother's eyes. Then it was a spear.

The exchange took only a few seconds. Crystal wanted nothing to do with it, she was responsible for the whole faceless mass of them, wasn't that enough?

But asked, she saw no way to refuse. She nodded once.

The girl nodded as well, then spun on her bare heel and headed home across the fields.

"A princess does not stare at her subjects, " Lapus informed her.

The mood shattered. Crystal tucked the black browed man safely away in her memory and turned to the Scholar.

"You've been promoting the princess a lot lately, " she said wearily. "Have you been talking to my mother?"

"The queen is anxious for you to do your duty. "

"Don't tell me about my duty, Scholar, " the wizard growled. "I spent six years learning it from better teachers than you'll ever be. " She gripped the sides of her horse so tightly that it turned its head and snapped at her knee, knowing full well she was not asking it to change its pace.

"The princess is your duty as well. "

"I'm tired of duty!" The cry was from neither the wizard nor the princess but from Crystal, who was seventeen and so full of duty that there was little room left for her to be just herself. She looked at Lapus in horror, not believing what she had said.

For a second the reflection of the wizard flickered in Lapus' eyes and pity took its place. But only for a second.

"For some of us, " he said flatly, retreating into the depths of his cowl, "there is no choice. "

"For some of us, " Crystal repeated just as flatly.

Except for the sounds of hoofs and leather and a thousand marching men, the next few miles passed in silence.

She did indeed have a lot to think about as the army wound through field and forest on its way to Hale, but not all of it was distressing. Bryon invaded her thoughts more often than she was willing to admit. And each time he did, she felt the path of her future widening. The centaurs would not have approved. A couple of times, and this puzzled her greatly, Bryon's cheerful grin was replaced by the scowling face of the young Duke of Riven.

"Riven doesn't even like me, " she muttered to her horse's ears.

Her horse, very wisely, refused to become involved.

As the deformed little man in the blue and gold livery entered Kraydak's sanctuary, the screams stopped abruptly. He stood just inside the gold lined door and waited. Once the screaming ended, his master would not be long. He waited patiently, ignoring the soft, moist sounds coming from the inner room.

When Kraydak emerged, his blue silk tunic and wide flaring breeches were spotless, his red-gold curls tumbled softly about his face, and his generous mouth curved in a satiated smile. His left hand was red to the wrist but that was undoubtedly due to the bloody bundle of skin he carried. Behind him, on a low bench in the center of the inner room, lay what appeared to be a fresh side of beef with long golden hair.

The wizard tossed the bundle to his servant-who caught it awkwardly (the only way his twisted body allowed him to do anything)-and the blood disappeared from his hand.

"She lasted longer than most, " he said approvingly as the heavy wooden door swung shut behind him.

The servant-whose name had been among the first things taken from him-clutched the bundle tightly, spattering the costly carpet with thickening globs of red, and arranged his features into what stood for an ingratiating smile.

"There is good news, milord. "

Kraydak settled himself behind his desk and raised an eyebrow. The servant shuffled forward.

"Kirka has fallen, milord. The plague has done its work. "

"Did you doubt that it would?" And the servant's twisted body convulsed in pain.

"No, milord!" The pain stopped and the servant straightened as much as he could, dampness spreading down the front of his breeches. "The young and the strong survived, just as you said. Their tongues have been removed and they are being marched to the mines of Halda. "

"A long march from Kirka. "

"Yes, milord. "

"Unlikely more than a few will survive the march. "

"Yes, milord. "

"A pity. Still, there are always more slaves. "

"Yes, milord. "

"And you will join them if that skin hardens enough to crack before you get it tanned. "

The servant glanced down at the bundle in his hand, which was indeed beginning to stiffen, and began to shuffle backward to the door. He was reaching for the handle when the wizard stopped him.

"You forgot to thank me, " said Kraydak softly, "for the pain. "

"Forgive me, milord!" Had he been able to rise from them, he would have fallen to his knees. "It was exquisite pain, milord. Thank you. Forgive me. "

"This time. " Kraydak smiled. "But always remember, I made you what you are today. "

The servant had only dim memories of a time when he had been a strong and brave warrior, the captain of an army that had dared to oppose Kraydak's might, but he knew what his master told him was true-for his master always spoke Truth.

"Thank you, milord. I remember. " And he scurried away.

Kraydak steepled his fingers together and sighed. Kirka had fallen like all the other cities and countries before it. So much for Kirka's vaunted healers.

He bent over the table and made a brief notation, a small bet with himself on how many survivors of the plague would actually make it to Halda. Not that he really cared; all his hopes now rested on the wizard-child and the battle that approached in Ardhan.

"And what I shall do when that's over, " he said to the air, "I have no idea.

" He had survived the Doom.

He was the greatest wizard ever. Nothing could touch him. He was indestructible. He would live forever. He was very bored.

His thoughts strayed back to the inner room and the low stone bench. He smiled and his blue eyes blazed as he went back to play with what lay upon it.

The servant had been very wrong when he assumed that life stopped as the screaming did. His own experiences should have taught him otherwise. There were ways to prolong the torment indefinitely and for what Kraydak had in mind, skin would have only gotten in the way.




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