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of Djanduin. As far as mortal mind and hand could contrive, I left the kingdom of Djanduin, of which I
was sovereign, in good heart and good hands, and looking forward to golden days.
The airboat I had bought and had provisioned was a small two-place flier. Over in my island of Hyr
Khor I had found a strange and scarcely self-comprehending willingness to help. As their new Kov I was
both suspect and welcome, for the old Kov, besides being a violent man, much given to breaking heads,
had been impious and a leemshead, and a ravisher of the young girls of the island. I convinced the people
of Hyr Khor that although I was no angel, and no simpleton, either, I was prepared to let them make their
own lives, saving that they must always remain friends with the people of Uttar Djombey. There was
some grumbling, I have no doubt, but on the surface the scheme worked well. So it was to Hyr Khor I
went for a last farewell and to collect my flier.
My plan was simple. I would fly from Djanduin, across Gorgrendrin, over the back hills of Migla, and
out over the Shrouded Sea to the place where I had last seen Delia. I fancied the Star Lords would
permit this.
It was with a light heart I called Remberee to the people of Hyr Khor. They waved their great swords of
the islands, and I took off into the morning suns-light.
Remberee!
Remberee, Kov Dray Prescot, King of Djanduin!
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The scorpion
The little flier lanced through the bright clean air of Kregen.
There is a coolness and sweetness about the air of these latitudes of Kregen. Because of that
extraordinary width of the temperate zones of Kregen beneath Antares the climate as far south as
Djanduin is perfectly suitable for comfortable living, not as hot as, for instance, northern Havilfar, by any
means, but nowhere near as cold as the gray waters south of Thothangir. Between the Yawfi Suth and
the Wendwath and the back mountains of Migla there lies a broad tract of country, sometimes fertile,
sometimes less so, seldom truly inhospitable. The western areas are the ancestral homes of the peoples of
Herrelldrin and Sava. The Gorgrens in their aimless meanderings over the vast inner plains had come
down to the west and had occupied Sava and Herrelldrin and Tarnish, which lies to the south of the
Tarnish Channel. Between the somewhat undefined eastern limits of the Gorgrens lands and the back
hills of Migla lies the country of Yanthur.
It was over this area, in a place where spiny hills made of the landscape a miniature tree bark in
appearance, that the flier chose to go wrong.
I cursed.
I was well used to airboats breaking down in Vallia and Zenicce; I had formed the opinion that they
were built with some kind of weakness which was obviated in those models built for sale in Havilfar. This
was a voller purchased from a Hamalian yard and delivered to express orders of the King of Djanduin.
For this airboat to go wrong boded ill for someone.
And that someone was likely to be me.
I touched down in a lonely valley where a narrow fast-running stream poured in a silvery tinkle over
sandstone rocks, and where violet and yellow flowers clustered. The lower slopes of the hills on every
side were covered with trees, and their crests, too, were tree covered. The voller touched down and
skidded wildly across rock and grass and ended up embedded in the low-sweeping branches of the
tamiyan trees. The shaking released a cloud of yellow petals that pirouetted in the air and spread, shining
in the suns.
I just sat there for a moment, and thought of the journey ahead of me. Until I reached a place where I
could hire or buy fresh transport, I must perforce walk. I had walked before to reach Delia; I would do
so again.
A laccapin, one of those monstrous flying reptiles of Havilfar, cruised by high above, its tail extended
well aft and looking barbed and angry. I was about to climb down from the flier by way of the tamiyan
branches, keeping my eyes open for any unwelcome beasts, when I saw the gorgeous gold and scarlet
bird come flying into my view, just beyond the edge of the tree branches.
All the time of my enforced exile in Djanduin I had not seen the Gdoinye, the magnificent
scarlet-and-golden-feathered hunting bird of the Star Lords. The remarkable bird is the spy and
messenger of the Everoinye, and I know that great things are afoot when it heaves in sight.
It perched on a branch and squawked at me.
I rubbed my hand over my chin. This was a period, in Djanduin, when I had shaved carefully, leaving
only my fierce old moustache.
I smelled trouble.
What do you want, bird of ill omen?
An onker, Dray Prescot! As ever was! the bird shrieked in jovial abuse at me.
I prepared to argue my case to the Star Lords through the bird s mediation. I do not seek to break
your interdiction upon me, I said. I spoke firmly, as though I meant business, which I did, Zair knows. I
shall meet my comrades in the voller after they have searched for me, and they will suspect nothing, for
this voller will be sunk in the Shrouded Sea. Then I cracked a fist against the wooden-framed hull. If,
that is, I can get the Makki-Grodno beast to working again.
The Gdoinye cackled.
An onker, Dray Prescot! There is work for you to do
I froze.
No, I said. I spoke calmly. Remember, I had been a king for three Terrestrial years. No, I cannot
work for you until I have seen my friends again.
You dare not argue with the Star Lords, Dray Prescot.
I think I shall.
The scarlet and gold raptor ruffled up its feathers and dug its vicious claws into the tamiyan bark.
To refuse would bring down great wrath on your head.
I had a bow in the voller, along with food and supplies and other weapons. Now I lifted the bow, and
with a practiced jerk strung it, for it was the familiar compound reflex bow, and nocked an arrow. I
aimed the steel head of the arrow at the Gdoinye.
Once, a man called Xoltemb, a caravan master, said he might cut down any man who raised a shaft
against you.
Onker.
If I loose, would the arrow slay you, Gdoinye, or would it merely pass through air? Are you real?
There is work for your hands in a place to which you would wish to go. This voller you bought and
others do you remember Tyr Nath Kynam ti Hippax?
I remember, I growled, for the memory was still sore in me. Tyr Nath Kynam had been a valued
member of the Djangs who had been rebuilding the country. Coper, who as Pallan of the Vollers, had
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