Scorpio Invasion by Alan Burt Akers Page A

Right?”
    He favored me with a little smile. “But, think of the glory, the pomp, the prestige! That would make any man’s blood rise.”
    “It is very clear you have no understanding of me—” I began. Then I hauled myself up. That little smile played over his face, crinkling his lips. Oh, yes, he was a wise one! He was searching me out, was testing me. The truth was, he remained a Wizard of Loh. I’d offered him employment, or, more correctly, had offered to become a client. He wanted to know my feelings and my attitudes to power. As he was perfectly entitled to do.
    Slowly, I said: “Have you ever heard of a Wizard of Loh called Phu-Si-Yantong?”
    He lost the smile at once.
    “He betrayed the most sacred teachings of Whonban. Oh, yes, he was known. Now he is dead.”
    “Thank Opaz. And, yet, I always searched for some good in him.”
    “My teachers, also, looked. I do not think any was found.”
    “Well, then. He stands as an example. Yet I continue to choose to believe he was not wholly evil—”
    With all the arrogance of youth he snapped: “That is mere foolishness.”
    “Perhaps.”
    He turned away to stare over the side at the horizon. I felt — I hoped — my replies had answered the questions he must have answered.
    I said: “I’ve been stuck with this job of being a high and mighty emperor. Believe you me, by Vox, the moment the job is done I’m throwing in my hand. I have other things to do—”
    “Better things?”
    “In certain contexts, of course. In the context of the Shank invasion, those better things must wait. It’s a damned duty thrust on me.”
    “When we have accomplished our adventure together, I shall be happy to study in Vallia with San Deb-Lu-Quienyin.”
    “Dondo!”Which is a way of saying: “Good!”
    Again he changed the subject. He picked up one of the arrows, twiddling it between his fingers. “It is an acknowledged fact that the best fletchings are made from the blue feathers of the king korf of Erthyrdrin.” He gently smoothed the rose red fletchings made from the zim-korf of Valka. Farris knew my predilection in the matter of arrows and had stowed away these Valkan shafts for me. Brown and white feathers were more common, still, in the Vallian Army’s arsenal of shafts. “These are not stained red. What is their origin? For, by Lingloh, they are very fine.”
    I told him, and added: “Even Bowmen of Erthyrdrin have been known to praise these over their own — sometimes.”
    He went on to say that the bow I’d given him was very fine, and waxed quite warm over its qualities. I didn’t say that since the Archery of Vallia had been controlled and inspected by Seg only the very very best would suffice. I admit I looked forward with keen anticipation to Seg’s reactions to this young feller-me-lad and his ambitions to become a Bowman of Loh.
    That made me realize I’d have to be very firm with dear old Seg. There was no doubt Rollo’s course in life must be steered in the thaumaturgical direction. He could be a Bowman of Loh as an avocation as much as he liked. And, of course, that brought me up all standing. What right had I to dictate what Rollo, or anyone else, should do with their lives?
    Just because I was this blasted Emperor of Paz? Rather, that I might become this confounded Emperor fellow in due time.
    I said: “Steer over to the west, then. We’ll try a run along near the coast. Keep your eyes skinned.”
    “Oh, I will, I will. I don’t want to be a slave of the Shanks.”
    “I’d have thought a Wizard of Loh could contrive something to avoid that fate.”
    He gave no answer as the voller curved away through the streaming mingled radiance of the Suns.

Chapter ten
    Flying at a middling height we skittered along the coast of Chem.
    The twin suns continued to pour down their mingled rays of ruby and jade from a cloudless sky. When the clouds formed in this part of Kregen they did so with regularity and severity. The sky would turn black. The