How the Mysterious Zerika
Is At Last Introduced;
Which Introduction Is Followed
By Much Discussion and
A Certain Amount of Planning
As daylight brightened the eastern face of Dzur Mountain, Piro awoke with the events of the last several days filling his thoughts, leaving him with some anticipation and a great deal of confusion. After spending some time attempting to understand all that he had learned, he came to the conclusion that it would be better to break his fast first and think later. This decision made, he rose, dressed, and made his way down the hall where, after a certain number of false turns and retracing of his steps, he came at last to the parlor where he had first met the Enchantress. Before he actually entered the room, however, he heard voices, and, being possessed of a great deal of that curiosity which is the birthright of any Tiassa, he paused for a moment to listen.
One voice he instantly recognized as belonging to the Teckla Mica, Tazendra’s servant.
“You see this end,” Mica was saying, “can be used to block or parry an opponent’s attack; even a heavy sword cannot penetrate the wood nor break it—you see marks where some have tried. Of course, to defend against a rapier I prefer to turn it around, holding it in this fashion, because my enemy’s blade can then be caught between the legs, after which, by the smallest twist, my opponent will be disarmed, or else his blade will snap; and, moreover, I am then able to instantly
counter from that position simply by thrusting forward, especially into the face of my enemy.”
“Well, I perceive there is a great deal to this art.”
“Oh, there is, I assure you.”
“And I freely confess that I admire your courage, which seems to be as great as that of a Dzurlord.”
“Well, I admit that, serving my mistress, there are occasions when a good stock of courage is as necessary as knowing how to lace up a doublet.”
“Yes, I understand that.”
“And—but bide, I hear someone coming. I am certain of it, for you perceive, in the sorts of adventures upon which my mistress takes me, sometimes a sharp pair of ears is all that stands between you and a quick, unceremonious demise, and so I have trained my ears to respond to the least noise.”
Of course, the sound he heard was Piro, who, having heard enough, had resumed his course toward the room in which Mica was holding forth. As he entered, Mica, who had been holding a bar-stool, set it down, rose to his feet, and bowed deeply, as did his companion, who was none other than Lar.
“What is this?” said Piro. “Are you instructing him?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Mica. “That is, I was explaining to him the use of the bar-stool, a weapon with which I am not unacquainted.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Piro. “I know of the bar-stool from having heard my father speak of it.”
Mica positively beamed at this evidence of Khaavren’s memory and of his own exploits, and turned an eye upon Lar as if to say, “Here is the proof of all that I have told you.”
“And is that,” continued Piro, pointing to the object in question, “the very bar-stool of which I have heard such stories?”
“Alas, no,” said Mica. “This is a replacement recently acquired.”
“Ah,” said the Viscount. “But I hope, at least, that your previous weapon was given an honorable retirement?”
“In a fashion,” said the Teckla. “It was used to supply a replacement for the lower part of my left leg, which, alas, was lost in the service of my mistress.”
“And of my father, as I recall the story,” said Piro.
Mica bowed his acknowledgment.
Piro then addressed Lar, saying, “You should listen to all this worthy man tells you, Lar, for there is no doubt that my father and his friends should never have survived all of their adventures if they had not been served by clever and courageous lackeys such as our good Mica here.”
Lar bowed, and vowed to himself that he would find an opportunity to display his courage before Piro at the first instant he could find to do so; Mica, at the same time, decided that he would permit himself to be burned alive for the young Tiassa as soon as it could be arranged. The quick-thinking Mica realized, however, that there was unlikely to be a chance for such an activity in the next few hours, whereas it was possible that he would be able to serve him in other ways, wherefore he said, “Would my lord care for klava this morning, as well as, perhaps, something with more substance?”
“Klava would make me the happiest of men, I assure you.”
“Very well, then. Come along, Lar, and I will show you how to brew klava for the young gentleman.”
“Ah,” said Lar. “As far as klava goes, I well know how to brew it. Indeed, it is possible that I could show you one or two tricks regarding the art of which you are unaware.”
“You think so? Well, come, let us see, then.”
And the two Teckla left the room arm-in-arm, leaving an amused Piro to trudge down to the spring-room to wash his face, use his teeth-stick, and take care of certain other duties which everyone, from noble to common, must perform each day. It is just these sorts of matters which are customarily omitted from romances, and they are omitted for the reason that, quite simply, if everyone does them, there is little to be learned from even the most careful study, an opinion to which we fully subscribe. Indeed, we have only included the above passing reference to “morning matters” for the following reasons: first, to demonstrate our awareness that such matters exist and are performed by all human beings; next, to establish that it is not our fear of such discussions that prevents more reference to them, but, rather, our dispassionate judgment that nothing is to be gained by such references; and last, so that, with the above reasons in mind, we need never return to these issues again.
On the subject of returning, to which we just made reference
in the previous sentence, young Piro returned to the sitting room to find a cup of perfectly prepared klava awaiting him, with not only heavy cream and honey, as he preferred it, but also a dash of vanilla, which he especially loved. In addition to the klava, there was as well a basket of steaming muffins, along with jars of butter, honey, and various sorts of preserves set out before him, leaving only the difficulty of deciding which of the delicacies to try, and which he would have to, with regret, leave unsampled, as his appetite, though as large as that of a youth should be, was not unlimited.
As he ate, he was joined by Tazendra herself, who called loudly for Mica, who had disappeared into the kitchens while Piro ate. The worthy servant emerged and quickly provided his mistress with klava and biscuits, upon which she gorged herself in such good style that for some time there was no conversation.
When Piro felt himself satisfied, he stretched out and gave a sigh. “Well,” he remarked, “I believe that, with one more cup of klava, I shall be ready to restore the Empire.”
“That is well,” said Tazendra between mouthfuls. “As for me, well, I require a few more biscuits and, after that, by the Horse, I think I will be ready to assist you.”
“Then, my good Dzur, after you have finished, we should set off and do so.”
“How, do you think so?” said Tazendra seriously.
Piro, who had been attempting a jest, became confused when Tazendra failed to comprehend, and so he cleared his throat and said, “Well, perhaps we should await the others.”
Tazendra nodded and said, “Yes, that would be best, I think, because in my opinion, well, Zerika would not wish to be left out.”
“Ah, in that circumstance, we should wait by all means.”
“I am glad that you think so.”
Lar, proving his worth as a servant, appeared to see if anything was needed just as Piro finished his klava. Lar vanished and, for reasons of which the historian must confess his ignorance, Mica appeared a minute later with the requested drink, prepared exactly as Piro preferred it. It was soon after this that the Enchantress herself appeared. Piro and Tazendra rose and
bowed to her. She acknowledged the salute and said, “Where is Kytraan?”
“Sleeping late,” said Piro.
“Well, it is time he should be woken, there are plans to make to-day.”
“Ah! Plans!” said Tazendra.
“Exactly.”
Tukko appeared at the door and looked at Sethra, who gave a gesture with her eyes and head, to which Tukko responded with a nod and left again. A short time later, Kytraan joined them at exactly the instant that Lar appeared with his klava. The Dragonlord moaned softly, sipped his klava, and closed his eyes. Then he opened them, cleared his throat, and solemnly announced, “Good morning.”
The others wished him a pleasant morning in turn and then Sethra rose and said, “Await me here, if you please,” after which she made her way out of the room.
“Well,” said Kytraan. “What are we doing today?”
“Making plans,” said Tazendra.
Kytraan shrugged. “Well,” he said.
“I wonder how soon we will leave,” said Piro.
“Leave?” said Kytraan. “Pah, we just got here.”
“That is true,” said the Tiassa. “I was merely wondering.”
“I have been known to wonder,” said Tazendra.
There being nothing to say to this, they all fell silent and concentrated on klava and, in some cases, muffins, until the Enchantress returned. When she did, she paused in the doorway and said, “My friends, there is someone I wish you to meet.”
Kytraan, Tazendra, and Piro all stood and waited. Sethra stepped aside and said, “Here is the Lady Zerika, of the House of the Phoenix.”
As the named Zerika entered the room, two of the three bowed. That is to say, Tazendra gave her a bow as befit a Princess of the House of the Phoenix; Kytraan presented a courtesy as befit one who might well be the next Emperor; Piro began to bow, stopped, raised his head, and, with his mouth hanging open, cried out, “Zivra!”
The Phoenix in question gave Piro a shy smile and said, “Well.”
The author hopes that he has, on this occasion, caught the reader off guard; that is, the notion of the reader being as astonished as, in fact, was Piro, would indicate that the narrative we have the honor of placing before the reader is, in at least this way, an accurate reflection of the events of history in their unfolding. We concede, however, that it is very possible that the reader has been in advance of us, and has known all along who was concealed behind the name Zerika. If this is the case, we must nevertheless insist that, if the reader knew who was about to appear under the mantle of the Phoenix Heir, then at least Piro did not.
In response to the exchange we have just mentioned, Tazendra turned to him and said, “How, do you know the lady?”
“And by a different name?” added Kytraan.
“The Horse! I nearly think I do,” said Piro. “We grew up together, and were friends for most of my life, which life has, perhaps, been short by the standards of history, but it is the only life I have known.”
“Well,” said Kytraan, “this at least explains why you, of all people, should be summoned by this mysterious Phoenix.”
“Yes, that is solved, but many other things are not.”
Zivra—or, as we should properly call her, Zerika—said, “It is true. But come, embrace me, my friend. I have been anxious to greet you for some time, but have been kept busy by a stern taskmaster.” These words were accompanied by a glace at the Enchantress, who acknowledged them by bowing her head.
Piro came forward and embraced his friend, saying, “Forgive my astonishment, but—you! A Phoenix! And a Princess!”
“Well,” said Zerika, “I tell you plainly that it astonishes me as well. Indeed, I must remind myself of it each day, and still sometimes wonder if this last week has been a dream from which I might wake at any time.”
“But tell me, if you would, how this happened? You perceive, the last time we spoke, there was some worry that you were to be sent off to be married.”
“And so I was, my dear friend,” said Zerika. “But married, not to a man, but rather to the Orb—if Fortune so favors us that we are able to retrieve it.”
“Oh, as to Fortune, well, I have no opinion about her whims. But my friend Kytraan and I will do all we can, and I should be astonished if the Lady Tazendra were to do less. And yet, I should still like to know—”
“And you shall, my friend. Come, let us sit together, as we did in the old days with our other friends, and I will explain my history to you.”
“That is exactly what I wish,” said Piro, sitting down and giving her his full attention. The others also sat down, except for Sethra, who excused herself and promised to return in a short time. As Zerika sat, Tukko appeared beside her with a steaming mug of klava, after which the servant disappeared.
“To begin then,” said Zerika.
“Yes, yes,” said Piro. “By all means, begin!”
“The story is, my friend Piro, that it was your father who convinced my father to send my mother out of Dragaera City, and she only barely escaped the Disaster. As it was, she hardly survived my birth, although whether it was childbirth that took her, or plague, or brigands, or some other cause entirely, I don’t know. But I know that Sethra Lavode was aware of me, and, although she will say nothing, I suspect it was by her hand that I eventually came to my foster parents in Adrilankha.”
“Do they know who you are?”
“No,” said Zerika. “Sethra tells me they are entirely ignorant, knowing only that I am an orphan, and that they were to surrender me to the Enchantress should she ever call for me.”
“Very well, they were ignorant. What next?”
“Why, I was raised as their child until Sethra Lavode deemed the time was right, whereupon she sent for me, which I heard about just as I told you some weeks ago, and which you might remember.”
“Remember! How, do you pretend I could forget?”
“Then, upon the morning when I was to set out, I was given the direction in which I was to travel.”
“Well, it is good to have a direction. And then?”
“And then, in only three or four hours, I met with a companion upon the road.”
“Well, it is good to have a companion.”
“Oh, she was jolly enough, I promise you.”
“Well, and then?”
“And then, after traveling for two days, she revealed that she was, in fact, Sethra the Younger, and had been sent to bring me to Dzur Mountain.”
“Well, so you had a strong hand beside you in case of danger. Apropos, did you meet any?”
“A little. But, as you said, I had a strong hand nearby.”
“And so you arrived?”
“Yes, in good time: it took us only eight days!”
“That is good time!”
“And since then—”
“Well, since then?”
“I have been learning.”
“But, what have you been learning?”
“What else but how to survive the Paths of the Dead?”
As these words were pronounced, Piro was unable to repress a shudder, yet he kept his emotion off his countenance. He turned and caught Kytraan’s eye as he said softly, “We are really going to do it.”
Kytraan nodded to him as if the same thought had occurred to him at just that moment. For her part, Zerika said, “Yes, I believe that we really are.”
Tazendra said, “The Gods! After all of this, I hope so!”
Piro smiled as big a smile as he had, perhaps, ever smiled, and he said, “My dear Zivra—that is to say, Zerika—well, I had thought we might never see each other again, but instead, we not only see each other, but we are about to have an adventure! Together! What could be grander?”
“I could not agree with you more,” said Zerika, smiling in her turn. “And, moreover, an adventure in which the issues at stake are sufficiently important to satisfy a Dzurlord!”
“Oh, I agree with that,” said Tazendra.
“As do I!” said Piro.
At this moment, the Enchantress came through the door once more, this time in the company of Sethra the Younger, and carrying several rolls of parchment. She walked up to the long table at the far end of the room, and, setting aside most of the rolls, opened one of them and spread it out, using several nearby cups as weights to counter its natural tendency, caused by many years existing in a roll, to curl up on the ends.
“Come,” she said to the others. “I have here several maps. Let us plan our campaign.”
“There can be no more doubt about it,” said Piro, rising and going to the table.
They clustered around the map, and Sethra put her finger down and said, “We are here.”
“Are we?” said Tazendra. “And yet—”
“Well?”
“Your finger is pointing to a place on the table, rather than on the map.”
“Yes, my dear. That is because Dzur Mountain does not appear on this map. But, were the map only a little longer, it would, and here is where it would be. Do you comprehend?”
“Oh, yes, only—”
“Well?”
“It is a shame they make maps so short.”
“Yes, that is true, my dear. But, to continue—”
“Yes, yes. By all means, continue.”
“We are about midway between the Adrilankha River and the Eastern River. Either would be suitable for a southward journey, but, as it happens, you will be going north.”
“And then?” said Piro.
“Well, it means you cannot take the rivers. At all events, you cannot take the Adrilankha River, because it is too swift for upstream travel. While it is true that the Eastern River is slower, there are too many places where you should be required to carry such boats as you had. You would save no time in that way.”
“Well,” said Kytraan, “but are there roads?”
For answer, Sethra moved her finger to a spot near the edge of the map. “There is a road through the jungle, here, that crosses the Eastern River here, at a good ford. The road then turns east toward the Shallow Sea, but if you continue north to this spot, you will reach a place where you will find a road running through the jungle until you arrive at the market town of Wilder, and that will put you on the edge of the Pushta, where horses can travel in any direction without regard to roads.”
“Well, and our direction?” said Tazendra.
“North and little east. You may meet a tribe of cat-centaurs near there, but they are rarely hostile unless given a reason to be.”
“We will give them no reason,” said Zerika.
“That is best,” said the Enchantress. “You continue northward, then, until you get to the mountains, here.”
Tazendra started to speak, but then shrugged. Sethra said, “Yes, I know, I am on the table once more. But this time, you perceive, I have another map.”
“Ah!” said Tazendra. “Another map!”
“Exactly.”
She rolled up the first map, and opened another, which was smaller and appeared to be older, but upon which the details were still clear and easily understood.
“As you can see,” she said, “you will be skirting the Eastern Mountains, but not entering them. You must be especially careful in through here, for brigands in those mountains are particularly fierce.”
“We will be careful,” said Kytraan.
Tazendra shrugged, as if to say that the notion of confronting brigands did not bring thoughts of care to her mind.
“Here,” continued the Enchantress, “you will once more pick up the Eastern River, and you will remain with it upon your left hand until here, where you will cross it once more.”
“But, how will we cross it?” said Zerika.
“Oh, as to that, well, there was once a bridge, but it may now be gone.”
“And then?”
“Well, in that case, you may need to find boats, or to fashion rafts. But you will then be near the lower slopes of Mount Klassor, which is heavily forested, and so you will have no trouble finding wood.”
“Apropos,” said Kytraan, “we ought to bring axes.”
“Very well,” said Piro. “I agree with the need for axes.”
“What next?” said Zerika.
In answer, the Enchantress rolled up the map, and unrolled another, the largest of the three.
“Here,” she said, “is where you yet again cross the Eastern River. It is, you perceive, only a score of miles from there until you reach the feet of the Ash Mountains. You continue,
then, until you reach this point, where you will ascend until you meet the Blood River, which you follow into Greymist Valley, and, thus, to Deathgate Falls.”
“Well, and after that?” said Piro, who wished to speak to show that these names did not frighten him.
“After that, well, Zerika will descend and, we hope, emerge again with the Orb. You will then return to Dzur Mountain.”
The Enchantress straightened her back and said, “That, then, is the route I propose. Do any of you have any questions?”
Piro cleared his throat and said, “Well, there is, in fact, one question that occurred to me while you were speaking.”
“If you ask it, well, I will attempt to answer.”
“This, then, is my question: In describing the route we are to take, you seemed to use the word you a great deal.”
“Ah, you noticed that?”
“I more than noticed it, I remarked upon it.”
“Do you know,” said Tazendra, “I had observed this circumstance as well.”
“But then,” said the Enchantress, “that is merely an observation. Is there, then, a question as well?”
“Oh, certainly. And a most significant question at that.”
“Well then, ask it.”
“I am about to do so.”
“Very well.”
“Does this use of you indicate that you will not be accompanying us on our journey?”
“Yes, exactly,” said the Enchantress. “You have understood precisely what it means.”
“It is remarkable,” observed Tazendra, “how much can be communicated by so small a word.”
“Well, but,” said Piro. “You perceive, your presence would be useful during our journey.”
“Oh, I understand that,” said Sethra.
“And then?”
“Alas, it is not possible.”
“Not possible?”
“Or, rather, not advisable.”
“And yet—”
“If you succeed—that is, if Zerika manages to acquire the Orb—there will be certain forces who will learn of it at once.
Indeed, it has been only with complex and subtle illusions—and some amount of luck—that they have been held away to this point, and when the Orb is gone, these illusions will necessarily go with it. From Dzur Mountain, I may be able to thwart them.”
“Ah,” said Piro, who had the feeling that he would not be able to understand a more comprehensive explanation, and accordingly didn’t ask for one.
“‘May’?” said Zerika. “You say you may be able to thwart them?”
“Yes, exactly,” said the Enchantress.
“Well, but—”
“Yes?”
“What if you fail?”
“Oh, if I fail—”
“Yes?”
“Then, no doubt, they will destroy you, take the Orb, and subjugate our world.”
“And yet—”
“It is nothing to worry about, my dear Phoenix.”
“How, nothing to worry about?”
“Not in the least.”
“Well, but why should I not worry?”
“For the best reason in the world, my dear: because nothing can be done about it.”
“Well, that is a reason, at all events. And yet—”
“Well?”
“I am not reassured.”
The Enchantress shrugged.
“But after all,” said Tazendra carelessly, “they can only kill you once or twice.”
Zerika turned on her quickly, saying, “Madam, I beg you to believe that it is not my life that concerns me; thanks to Fortune I was not born entirely deficient in courage. What concerns me is my mission. You perceive, to me has been given the task of restoring the Empire—the Empire, do you understand me, madam? I think the task is of sufficient importance to be worth a few questions to see that it does not fail. If you disagree, well, say so plainly, and then we will consider what to do about it.”
Tazendra, for her part, looked at the Phoenix with something like a glint in her eye, and said, “I hope to the gods I was not questioning your courage; do you be as kind in not questioning my loyalty. Therefore, if we have now reached an understanding, I beg you not to stare at me with those twin fires that are blazing behind your eyes, but show me a little kindness as befits one preparing to lay down her life for you as well as for the cause to which we are all dedicated.”
Zerika rose and bowed to Tazendra, saying, “I’m sorry if I have misunderstood you, and, well, if I haven’t, I cannot stay angry with you in any case; you know how grateful I am to have your strong arm for support.”
“But then,” said Kytraan, “if the Enchantress—” here he bowed to the lady thus indicated, “—is not to accompany us, well, perhaps it would be good to know who is.”
Sethra Lavode nodded. “That is a good question,” she said.
“Do you think so?” said Kytraan. “Well, then I am pleased.”
“Yes,” said the Enchantress. “It is so good a question, in fact, that I will answer it.”
“Ah. Well, if you will answer it, I will listen, and I think my friends here will listen as well.”
“I hope so. Here it is, then: In addition to Zerika, we will have you, Kytraan, and you, Piro, and Tazendra.”
“Well, yes,” said Piro. “But is that all?”
“By no means. You will also have your lackeys.”
“Well, but no one else?”
The Enchantress shrugged and said, “If a Dragon, a Dzur, and a Tiassa cannot deliver a Phoenix to Deathgate Falls, then I fail to see how any others could help.”
Kytraan said, “You believe, then, that more would not help?”
“More would be an army, and, as such, would call attention to itself.”
“Attention?” said Zerika.
“There are a score of warlords who dream of re-creating the Empire with themselves as Emperor. Some of them would yield to Zerika, upon learning of her ancestry and goals. But others, perhaps, would not.”
Zerika nodded and said, “Very well, I understand.”
“Then,” said Tazendra, “we have our troop, and we have our destination. What else remains?”
“Well, we must pick an auspicious time for a departure,” said Sethra the Younger, who, according to her custom, had said little.
“That is always good when beginning a journey,” agreed Tazendra.
“Well,” continued Sethra, “I have done so. I cast the cards this morning.”
“And?”
“The day after to-morrow, at the stroke of noon.”
Zerika shrugged. “That is later than I should have liked to set out, but if is auspicious, then, well, it cannot harm us to have as much of Fortune working with us as we can.”
“That is my opinion as well,” said Tazendra.
“Then,” said Kytraan, “we at least have plenty of time to prepare what we will need for our journey.”
“And to rest before we begin,” said Piro.
“And to study the maps,” said Zerika.
“And to sharpen our swords,” said Tazendra, “because I should be more than a little astonished if we do not need them.”