they entered the gates of the fantastic city.
and heard laughter above them…
the gargoyle looked down on the three wretched quivering schoolboys, huddled just inside the gate of the forbidden city, which they at least had had the gumption to cross.
and felt the tiniest twinge of pity, remembering himself when he was just an innocent lad.
for he had not always been a gargoyle, chained by a curse to a stone tower in an abandoned city in the middle of nowhere…
no, he had been a goatherd, little more than a slave, a camp follower on the fringes of the mighty army of corak son of the lightning, who had been massing his followers for almost a decade for a mighty assault on the empire of…
on the empire of…
in his long aeons on the wall of the stone city, the gargoyle had forgotten the name of the emperor - and the name of the empire he ruled - who had been the target of the mighty corak…
but he remembered being a goatherd. and little more than a slave, but a slave under the blue sky of heaven…
treated like a dog and a slave, but “free” to run away if there had been anywhere to run to…
free to run away across the empty desert or to the icy mountains… his master would never bother to chase after him..
most of all, free to dream…
and the master’s voice, a cross between a bear’s and a dragon’s, calling him…
“leander! leander! you little wretch! where are you now? “
for leander , as near as the gargoyle could remember, had been his name in those faraway days on the steppes…
“i am here, master," leander replied, "what is the problem? i have my goats in a group as tight as the lock on the door to paradise. has alexander lost a goat again, and must i retrieve it?”
alexander was the master’s other goatherd, a comelier youth - a much comelier youth than leander the future gargoyle - and the master’s favorite.
the master came up from behind the unsuspecting leander and gave him a stout box on the ear, knocking him to the ground.
leander was used to such treatment and jumped up quickly.
to his astonishment, he looked up and beheld not only the scowling master standing over him with a scowl and a clenched fist, but a figure behind him…
a figure clad in a long red robe, astride the tallest horse the young goatherd had ever seen.
leander looked closer and his astonishment grew when he realized the rider in the red robe was a woman!
a crone of about thirty years, but a woman for all that!
the vast army of corak was strictly disciplined, even on its fringes, and men and women were mostly kept separate. leander had hardly ever seen a woman in his life.
now the woman came closer, and leander guessed from her strange dress that she must be from one of the distant kingdoms in the ice mountains.
“stand up straighter,” the master told the boy, “this woman wishes to get a better look at you. she might wish to purchase you, what do you think of that, eh?”
the master turned and looked up at the woman, who had come closer and now towered over both the master and the boy on her tall steed.
“i told you he was not much to look at,” the master told the woman.
“yes, he looks like a monkey,” the woman replied, “but a monkey is just what i am looking for. i will take him, at the price you named.”
and she tossed a coin to the master. leander wondered where he thought he would get a chance to spend it, but said nothing.
the master took a step toward the boy, as if to give him one last smack, but the woman stopped him. “he is mine now, do not touch him.”
the master withdrew, calling for the other goatherd. “alexander, alexander, you lazy little devil!”
leander thought, perhaps he will now get the thrashings i got.
he felt the woman in red looking down at him.
“am i to follow you?” he asked her. “i do not know if i can keep up with your horse.”
“wait here. a wagon will come by to pick you up. i think i hear it now.”
leander nodded. “are you a queen?” he asked the woman.
she laughed. “not yet.”
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