Sabazel by Carl Lillian Stewart

Author:Carl, Lillian Stewart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: amazons
Publisher: Lillian Stewart Carl

* * * * *

The storm blew itself out during the night, and the sun rose into a sky that was a taut, transparent blue membrane arching smoothly from horizon to horizon. A cold clean wind rang through the vault of heaven.

Bellasteros came at midmorning. A shout went up from the sentries; an answering shout reverberated through the encampment, gathering force, becoming an avalanche of sound.

The great warhorse was well ahead of the others. It pranced across the road and up the path to the gate, its hooves throwing clods of mud into the air as if distributing gold coins to the peasantry. It curvetted to a stop, jingling its harness. Bellasteros stilled it with a quiet word.

His eyes were bright chips of adamant, his mouth was crimped in an arrogant smile. His look fell on the troops that lined the embankment, the knot of men before the gate, the peering squatters by the caravanserai, and all voices ceased. The harsh cry of a raven echoed down the wind.

In one fluid movement Bellasteros pulled the sword Solifrax from its scabbard and thrust it into the air. It flared with an almost audible crack of lightning, brighter than the sun. The warhorse reared, its forefeet pawing the air. As one the Sardians cheered, the squatters fell prostrate, and the imperial officers made the deep formal obeisances due not only an emperor, but a god. Surely some of those same officers would report the king's new power to Bogazkar.

Patros rushed forward to take the reins of the horse, grinning. “Well done, my lord,” he said.

Bellasteros slipped the sword back into its sheath and leaped from the horse. “And you, too, well done,” he said. “My thanks for the warning. Adrastes tried to kill Danica; sorcery, Patros, of the blackest hue.” Patros’s brows shot up; hastily he smoothed his expression. Bellasteros strode forward, crimson plume and crimson cloak streaming behind him.

Mardoc's eyes and mouth hung open, set in awestruck worship. With a start he remembered to bow. “Welcome, my lord,” he stuttered. “Welcome indeed.”

So you are impressed with my new toy, Bellasteros said silently. Aloud he said, “My thanks. General. I am pleased to return.”

And there, an eddy in the wind, the tall dark figure of Adrastes Falco. Those glittering eyes cut deep, too deep; play it well . . . Bellasteros feigned astonishment. “Your Eminence! What brings you here to the edge of the world?”

The priest inclined his head. “I come only to serve my king in his hour of triumph.”

“Very good! Come, I will explain our strategy.” Bellasteros swept by, returning the nod, deflecting the stare, leaving Adrastes to scuttle hurriedly, like an awkward lackey, in his wake.

Patros turned the horse over to a page and slipped through the crowd to Bellasteros's side. “My friend,” the king exclaimed, clapping him on the shoulder, “I have seen some strange places since we last met. Surely Harus holds his wings outspread over me.”

“Surely.” said Patros.

Mardoc shook himself, shouted a few inconsequential orders to

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