She rose and returned to her chair, nodding slowly at Genevieve, who was holding her cup beneath her veil, slowly dripping its contents onto her soft inner robe, where it wouldn’t show. They had raised their veils, but she had not. They had drunk their tea, but she was wary of it. It had a strange smell.
Shortly thereafter, a serving person came to tell Genevieve that the harpta was waiting. So was Aufors.
They returned in silence to the gate of the residence, and then, seeing the lizard proceed through the city gate, they ran as if with one mind to the slit atop the stairs and from there watched the handlers and the giant beast going down to the sea. There the lizard was divested of its harness and allowed to dive into the waves.
“Ah,” Genevieve said. “It’s aquatic! Of course it is! Just as the lizards on Haven. There’d be nothing for it to eat here, on land. It must eat seaweed!”
“What happened?” demanded the Marshal, as he came up the stairs.
“Nothing,” she said. “They talked a kind of gibberish. We didn’t walk in the garden at all. We just sat and talked incomprehensible nonsense to one another, except that one of the wives said two intelligible things. She said that they had new babies, their third—did I forget to say there were three wives present?—and this entitled them to be candidates to go to Galul …”
The Marshal paled at the mention of Galul. He turned away. Over his shoulder he asked, “Did they give you anything to eat or drink?”
Genevieve had noticed her father’s reaction. “Yes. They gave me tea …” She let her voice trail away, for some reason not wanting him to know she had not drunk it.
The Marshal nodded as though with satisfaction. Aufors urged her to rest and followed her into their rooms.
“You started to say something about the tea they gave you, then you stopped. Why?”
“It was a strange question for Father to ask, did they give me anything to eat or drink. And then, he reacted strangely when I mentioned Galul. I just … suddenly wanted to keep it to myself, that’s all. The fact that he and the Prince told the Mahahmbi I was here after making such a thing out of keeping it secret is confusing, and I’m sure today’s invitation doesn’t mean what they think it means … or …”
“Or?”
“Or,” she said bleakly, “they both know what it means, but they are not telling me. Us.”
“How much did you drink of the stuff they gave you?”
“None. I didn’t like the smell of it, or the fact that they acted drugged, though I think we should keep that between us. I pretended to drink it while I dribbled it onto my inner robe, hidden by my veil. Most of it dried on the walk back.”
“Let me have the stained robe for a while,” said Aufors, his eyes narrowed. “Assuming it was a drug, why would they have wanted to drug you?”
She laughed, a very chilly laugh. “And why do I suspect it may be a good idea to let my father think they succeeded?”
He said bleakly, “And the Invigilator. He and your father have grown very close, lately.”
“Next time I see Awhero, I’m going to ask some questions.”
She did not see Awhero that night, for the warren beneath the house was empty, and though she planned to sneak away early on the following morning, events moved rather too quickly to allow it.
First, into the bedroom where Genevieve lay beside the chortling baby, Aufors entered with an announcement: “Here’s your robe, love. It’s a little damp around the neck. I soaked some of that tea out of it, I want to know what it is, but the only analyzer is on the ship. We used it to check the well water for purity, remember? So, since I’m going out to the ship, the doctor and the nursemaid want to go along to send messages home to their families. Will you be all right here alone for a while?”
“I’m not alone, Aufors. Father’s here.” She said it with a wry, ironic smile.
Aufors shook his head very slightly. Her father was here, and so was the Prince, but that did not mitigate her being alone. Still, the com-man was in the house, together with the three guards and the household servants.
Aufors had not been long gone when a messenger arrived to invite the Prince, the Invigilator, and Colonel Leys, to go hunting with the Shah. The Prince and Invigilator announced themselves pleased to go. While the Prince put on riding clothes, he gave anyone within earshot a short lecture on the hunting birds of the Mahahmbi. Though the escort said repeatedly they could wait for the Colonel to return, the Prince refused to delay. He did not give any weight to Aufors having been invited, as he had always felt that others valued him as he valued himself. If he, the Prince, went, no more could be desired. Gloved and veiled and walking in an important manner, he and Rongor went out into the desert, where they mounted the preferred horses and rode away.
As was usually the case when Delganor and Rongor were elsewhere, the whole household relaxed—too soon, for a representative of the Shah arrived almost immediately to invite “The Colonel’s woman” to walk again with the wives of the Shah in their garden. The Marshal agreed all too eagerly, and the man said he would return for the Colonel’s wife at once. Since the nursemaid hadn’t returned, the Marshal appointed the off-duty guardsman to watch the child and announced to Genevieve that she was to accept the invitation.
Though the sun was already high, moving toward the hottest time of a fiery day, Genevieve nursed Dovidi, put on the proper shoes and the proper robes, including the robe Awhero had given her, regardless of the dampness around the neck. Though she was soon dressed, the messenger did not immediately return, and soon the Marshal grew impatient.
“That man should have been here to fetch the woman some time ago,” he remarked to the courtyard at large. “I’m going to find out what is holding him up.”
“Do you know where he is, sir?” asked one of the guardsmen.
“No doubt I’ll find him at the palace, and you two can come along to be sure we get there unhindered.”
Full of impatient mutters, he left with both the remaining guards. Dovidi was asleep, and Genevieve left him under the eyes of the third guardsman while she went out onto the balcony. The house was oppressively silent, as though it were totally vacant, though Genevieve assured herself that Aufors had not been gone long and there were others still present. The staff was there, along with the cook and the communications man, all in the small courtyard. She went to the stair top to look out through the wall-slit toward the ship and its auxiliary, surprised to see them surrounded by antlike movement and the red sparkle that identified the laser cannons. At the distance she could not see what was happening, though a gust of wind brought the sounds of shouting and screams …
Before she could react, someone scrambled on the stairs behind her, and she turned to see Awhero scuttling up toward her, robes thrashing and tangling around her skinny frame. She gasped, “Lady, they’re coming to kill you, now!”
The words made no sense. “Who? Awhero, what are you talking about?”
“Your father’s taken. Shah Arghad has him and other two men at palace. There is fighting by airships. Now Shah’s men come for your blood. Yours and child’s. They’re coming!”
She tottered. The world filled with blood, a sea of blood, and she choked at the smell of it. Whose was it? Where had it come from? And then it was gone, leaving her as her visions always left her, shaking and weak.
She faltered, “Coming for Dovidi? How did Arghan know about the baby?”
“Your father tell him.”
Her mind tumbled, refusing to believe. “I’ll get Dovidi. We’ll go to the ship …”
“If you take him, you both be killed. Fighting out there on sand, where ship is. No way you can get there. No. I take babe, my people take him, we dirty his face and say he one of us….”
“Take me, too …”
“You too tall, too pale. The Shah’s women, they heard you, they know you.”
“Where? Where shall I go?”
“Remember song of Tenopia. They won’t think you go that way, inland,
no. Your only chance! Take your man’s cloak, there by gate. Take these rags, disguise. I take baby-boy, you go like Tenopia!”
“Tell Aufors … tell him where I went,” she cried.
Awhero scrambled toward the baby’s room as Genevieve stumbled down the stairs. The outside door had been left inexcusably ajar when the Marshal left, and the Mahahmbi who usually manned the sentry booth outside were gone. The booth was empty. She barred the door, grabbed up a staff and waterbottle, and fled through the passage into the back courtyard, where she detoured past the communications room.
“Assassins coming, crewman!” she cried at his blank and unbelieving face. “Bar the city door. Look to your own safety.”
“But my lady,” he cried. “Marchioness …”
“No time,” she called to him. “No time. Tell the ship! Tell my husband I’m escaping. Bar the door!”
She pulled on the robe and settled the spongy cap within the hood as she went down into the cellars and out into the world. Then, like Tenopia, she ran for her life.
TWENTY-TWO
Machinations
WHEN AUFORS, THE DOCTOR, AND THE BABY-TENDER ARrived at the ship, each preoccupied with his own concerns, they passed among several men quietly at work among the anchor ropes, whom they passed by with little regard, separating at the ramp top, the two off-worlders toward the corn-room and Aufors toward the bridge in search of the so-called “tech,” the crewman who had been trained to use and care for the off-world machines.
He found not only the tech but also the Captain, who looked up with a harried face and snapped, “Colonel! What do you think of this?”
Aufors followed his pointing finger across the tech’s shoulder to the console before him, an enigmatic box covered with blotchy screens.
“What are they?” Aufors asked, confused both by the equipment and by the shadows he saw moving there.
“The devices are off-world detectors; I’m told the shadows are men,” grated the Captain, “and they’re all around us. Every pile of sand out there has a clutch of Mahahmbi hiding behind it. Men don’t hide unless they’ve got something truculent in mind!”
Aufors made no argument. It was unlikely the Captain had gained his position by being hysterical.
“We already know they don’t like us,” Aufors mused. “They’ve made their displeasure clear as ice. Up until yesterday when we supposed a thaw occurred.”
“I would judge it was no thaw,” said the Captain. “Only a minor melt, to get us off guard.”
“Have your men stand by the ropes,” said Aufors. “You may need to get off quickly.”
“Oh, that was done the moment I saw them,” murmured the Captain. “Quietly, so as not to stir things up. Also the cannon are readied and the gunners are standing by.”
“How many cannon?”
“All four. Bow, stern, and midships, both sides. The bastards have us surrounded.”
Aufors looked at the bottle he was holding. “I need your analyzer.”
“Hardly the time for intellectual inquiry,” snapped the captain.
“Exactly the time for this inquiry,” Aufors replied. “As it may well confirm evil intent.”
“If you need confirmation, you must be a hard man to convince!” the Captain snapped at Aufors’s back as he stepped into the cubby where the device was housed.
He had seen the tech use it to test their drinking water, after the well was opened, and he followed the routine he had observed then, pouring his sample into a clean vial, inserting it, pressing a button, and waiting while the mechanism hummed and chuckled to itself for quite some time. Murmurs came from the control room, together with several muffled curses from the captain. At last the results came up on a screen, a meaningless clutter of letters and numbers. “How do I translate the results?” he called.
“Tell it you need lay language,” barked the tech, without looking up.
Aufors told it, somewhat self-consciously, and the screen changed its message: Substance is proprietary to Galaxo-pharm, trademark Unforz. Purpose is euphoric, sedative, relaxant. Effective on most mammalian life forms. Typical uses: by surgeon to allay apprehension in patient; by zookeeper, to handle deadly or delicate creatures during transport or prolonged handling; by wardens transporting dangerous criminals.
“Out here, Colonel!” snapped the Captain. “Here they come.”
Aufors emerged from the cubicle in time to see the screens erupt with dark blotches. Loosing his own light weapon in its holster, he made for the ramp to see what he had been too distracted to see when he came in. Halfway up the ramp stood a crewman, a line leading from his hand to a latch at the base of the nearest anchor rope, a latch which had replaced the knotted tie he had seen there previously. It took only a glance to confirm that all the latches were connected to the single line.
The man at the rope cast a glance in Aufors’s direction, then knelt behind the railing, out of sight of the robed men pouring over the dunes, blades glittering, voices raised in wild ululations. Without warning, the cannoneers in the nacelle began shooting: soundless, invisible blasts that exploded into sequin showers, like sparks from a poked campfire, though where these sparks fell they were followed by cries of fury or pain.
From inside, the doctor cried, “Colonel. A message from the town. Your wife, she’s fled from assassins. The Shah has her father!”
Aufors ran up the ramp. The doctor stood just inside the door, chewing his lips and combing his hair into disarray with unsteady hands.
Aufors demanded, “Genevieve fled where? Is she coming here?”
The doctor shook his head, eyes widely fixed on the battle outside. “Don’t know. That’s the message the corn-man just got from the residence. He’s trying to find out …”
A reduction in the sound level made Aufors turn toward the ramp once more. On one side the remaining attackers were floundering up the nearest dunes, in full retreat. Whatever their plan had been, it had gone awry, for they surely hadn’t meant to leave all those charred bodies upon the sand. Those attacking from the other side were not yet convinced, and the bow gunner swung his weapon in that direction.
“Didn’t they know we had cannon?” the doctor asked in a frantic voice. “Should I go out and see to the wounded?”
“Do nothing of the kind,” snapped Aufors, on his way to the control room. “Stay where you are. There’s still battle going on out there.”
As it did, for some time, though with decreasing violence. Finally, though the tech went on twisting dials and tapping buttons, the Captain, hovering behind him, could see only a few shadows remaining behind dunes, moving little if at all. Wounded, most likely. Or dying.
“Can you spare half a dozen men?” Aufors demanded.
“If it is your aim to bring the Prince safely to the ship, yes.”
“By the deepsea!” cried Aufors. “It’s my aim to bring whoever’s left at the residence!”
“Go! Go!” grated the Captain. “We’re here at the Prince’s command. We shouldn’t leave unless commanded by the Prince, but he cannot command if he cannot reach us!”
“Message those at the residence to come out by the desert door, and have your cannoneers cover their retreat….” Aufors’s voice trailed off as he went out again, picking half a dozen men with weapons from those muttering in the way and leading them down the ramp, where he put them into rough formation, well spread out and with the calmest of them guarding the rear.
They trudged toward the city, those at the rear walking mostly backwards. It was both impossible and foolish to run on the shifting surface, but the slow trudge gave them entirely too much time to think. Or, so Aufors felt. Why had they heard nothing from the Prince? From Genevieve’s father? Why had no one said anything about Dovidi? Genevieve wouldn’t have left him! Therefore … what?
It did no good to wonder. He would find them or he would not. The thought was one he often resorted to in battle. This time it did no good. A distant shout brought his eyes up, and he saw a man plunging ou
tward from the guard post outside the residence doorway. He was immediately followed by others, and in a moment Aufors could identify them all: three household servants, one steward-cum-guard, the cook, the cook’s helper, and lastly the communications man who had kept them in touch with the ship.
When this man came abreast of Aufors he stopped for a moment, gasping, “The place is empty, Colonel. No point in going any nearer. I’ve followed the protocol and triggered the devices in the com-room. All the off-world stuff’ll go up in a few moments …”
Aufors grasped him by the arm. “By the deepsea, man! My son! Where’s my son?”
“Be easy, Colonel. He’s out of there. The old woman took him, that malghaste. She showed him to me as she went by. She said he’d be safe, no one would look among them so long as you didn’t mention who took him, not to anyone.”
Aufors turned, and they trotted toward the ship. “To anyone?” He gave the man a piercing look.
“I’m safe, sir. If anyone asks, anyone at all, I’ll say your wife took him when she went. I owe her that much and more. We’d have been dead meat if she hadn’t warned us as she went out …”
“Went where?” Aufors demanded. “Where could she go?”
“Down, sir. She went down into the cellars and away. That’s the way the old woman went, as well. I don’t know how she knew there was a way out down there, your wife, I mean….”
“I know how she knew. What I don’t know is where I’m to find her. Or Dovidi.”
“I can’t tell you, sir. All the old woman said was, tell the Colonel to be patient, keep his mouth shut—pardon me, sir, but I’m just quoting what she said—for his son is safe with the malghaste.” He turned to look over his shoulder. “Hadn’t we better get a move on, sir?”
Men were massing at the city gate. Aufors picked up his pace and they slogged toward the ship under the Cyclopean gaze of the nearest cannon. Though the crowd at the gate grew larger, no one came after them.
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