by Allan Cole
"There's wasn't time, Safar said. Now I'm afraid there never will be. I don't dare go back to the University. And after Founder's Day I'll be running as fast as I can. With a lot of angry Walarians chasing me."
Nerisa's voice came from behind them"I can get it for you."
Safar and Gundara turned to see her perched on the window sill.
"I was starting to worry about you, Safar said.
Gundara snickered. Stick with worrying about yourself, Master, he said. She does just fine. I sensed her climbing the watchtower fifteen minutes ago. But you didn't notice a thing until she was inside and announced herself."
Nerisa giggled. She jumped off the sill, dug a sweet out of her pocket and walked over to give it to the Favorite.
"I knew it was my lucky century, Gundara said, soon as you stole me from that stall. He popped the sweet into his mouth, closing his eyes and chewing with great gusto.
"Why don't you go rest for awhile? Safar told him. He gestured and the Favorite disappeared in a cloud of smoke. The turtle idol rocked on its legs as the smoke funneled into the stone. Then all was silent.
"His lip smacking gets to you after awhile, he told Nerisa.
"Never mind that, Safar, Nerisa said. I really meant it. About the book. I can get in and out of Umurhan's place in no time. Especially with Gundara to help me."
"It's too dangerous, Safar said.
Nerisa put a hand on her hip. Nobody's ever gotten close to me yet, she said. What could be so hard about an old library? Let me have Gundara and I'll be back before First Prayer."
Safar shook his head. You don't know what you're saying, Nerisa, he said. Things are a lot worse since last night."
He made her sit down, brewed her a pot of mint tea, and told her an edited version of what he'd learned. He left out the bargain he'd made with Olari, figuring quite correctly that she'd want to get involved.
Tears welled up when he said he was leaving Walaria.
"It isn't safe for either of us, he said. He dug into the heavy purse Olari had given him and pulled out a handful of gold coins. Here. This is for you."
Nerisa struck them away. Coins scattered across the floor.
"I don't want money, she said. I can get money anytime."
Safar gathered them up again. I'm not abandoning you, Nerisa, he said. This is just in case money. If I'm caught, or… there's some other emergency. If all goes well, you can go with me if you want."
Nerisa grinned through her tears. You'd really take me with you? she cried.
"It won't be very safe, Safar warned her. There'll be a lot people after me."
Nerisa threw her arms around him. I don't care, she said. Let them come. I know all kinds of tricks. They'll never catch us."
Safar unstuck her, gently pushing her back into her seat amongst the pillows. You don't have to go all the way to Kyrania, he said. It's a pretty boring place for someone who grew up in Walaria."
"Well, it won't be boring to me, Nerisa said, thinking that for all she cared Kyrania could be the dullest place in all Esmir. It didn't matter as long as she was near Safar.
Safar patted her hand. We'll see, he said. Once we're clear of Walaria we can talk about this again."
"Anything you say, Safar, Nerisa said, dreamy.
Then she yawned and stretched. I'm so tired, she said. Can I sleep here for awhile? I've been ducking and hiding all day."
Safar hesitated. They know to look for you here, he said.
Nerisa yawned again. That's okay, she said. Gundara will warn us if anybody comes."
Safar started to say it was still too big a chance to take. Then heard her breathing deepen and looked over and saw that she'd fallen asleep. In repose she seemed even younger and more vulnerable. Her lashes were delicate fans on her soft cheeks. He could see the fine bones of her face and thought that someday she'd be a great beauty. If she lived long enough to reach womanhood. He didn't have the heart to awaken her. So he banked the coals in the brazier and pinched out the wicks in the oil lamps. He found an extra blanket and covered her. She sighed, clutching the blanket tight and murmuring his name. Safar found a comfortable place a few feet away. So much had happened he doubted he'd be able to do much more than rest. But he'd barely closed his eyes when sleep rose up to carry him away.
It was a dreamless sleep, although once he thought he heard the rustle of fabric and felt soft lips brush his.
The next thing he knew the door crashed open and four burly men rushed inside.
He rolled out of his blankets but before he could come to his feet the men were on him. They clubbed him down and pinned him to the floor.
Then a heavy boot crashed into his head and stars of pain flared. He lost consciousness for a moment, then he heard steel strike flint and he opened his eyes to see Kalasariz standing over him, an oil lamp in his hand.
"Acolyte Timura, the spymaster intoned, you are charged with conspiracy against the crown. What do you have to say for yourself?"
Safar was dazed by the beating. He tried to speak, but his tongue was thick and refused to work. Then he remembered Nerisa. His heart jumped and he turned his head to see where she was. But she was nowhere in sight. Relief flooded inthank the gods, somehow she'd managed to escape. Then another thought pierced the haze. Why hadn't Gundara warned him about Kalasariz approach?
The spymaster held a heavy purse over Safar's head. It was the purse of gold Olari had given him, minus the coins he'd shared out with Nerisa. Kalasariz shook the purse. What's this? he said. Then he opened it and spilled coins into his palm. This is a great deal of money for a poor student to have in his possession, he gloated.
Safar said nothing.
"Where did you get so much gold, Acolyte? the spymaster demanded. And what did you swear to do to earn it?"
Safar still said nothing. What was the point?
Kalasariz kicked him again. It will do you no good to hide in silence, Acolyte Timura, he said. Your fellow conspirators have already confessed."
Safar regained enough wit to say, Then you don't need to hear from me, do you, My Lord?"
The reply won him another kick, this time in the ribs. They hauled him to his feet, gasping for breath.
But he still had presence of mind to look over at the brazier where he'd last seen the stone idol.
It was gone.
The only thing he could think was, Nerisa must have it.
Then Kalasariz roared, Take him away! The sight of this heretic offends me!"
And they dragged him out the door.
****
"Hsst! Someone's coming!"
A dim light appeared and Nerisa dropped to the ground. She hugged the stone as a dark figure shuffled out of a corridor and headed her way. She was on the top floor of the Universityno more than a hundred feet, Gundara had informed her, from Umurhan's library. The Favorite was a flea speck on her sleevehe'd told her about Safar's method of carrying him about and she'd adopted it.
The shuffling figure was an old priest. He mumbled to himself, cursing the cold stone on his bare feet and muttering deprecations against the devils who had conspired to hide his sandals. He was carrying a small oil lamp with a nearly burned out wick that gave off just enough light to make her nervous. She flattened herself as he walked right up to her, then veered to the side to fumble at a door. He broke wind loudly and Nerisa guessed the door led to a privy. The priest went inside and shut the door.
Nerisa came up like a cat and ghosted down the corridor until Gundara told her to stop because she'd found the library. It was locked, but that only delayed her for a few seconds. She fished a narrow bar from her pocket, slipped it into the keyhole and forced the big tumbler back. In an instant she was inside, quietly closing the door behind her.
The library was a sealed room and so dark she couldn't make out even the largest objects. But she could smell the dusty odor of old books, just like the ones at the Foolsmire, except there was heavy sulfur smell of magic that made her throat feel raw.
"I can't see, she whis
pered to Gundara.
There was a sudden glow and the Favorite appeared before her full sizewhich meant he came up to about her knee. His body gave off a dim green light and she could see the hulking shadows of furniture and book shelves.
Gundara made a slow circle, sniffing the air. In her pocket she felt the stone idol become warm as the Favorite drew on its magical power.
Then he said, This way, and scampered off into the darkness.
Nerisa followed and they moved along the twisting aisles until they came to the far side of the room where tall bookcases lined the blank wall. Gundara hopped from shelf to shelf until he was eye-level with Nerisa.
"There it is, he said, pointing a glowing talon. Asper in the flesh. Gundara snickered. The book's bound in leather, he said. Get itflesh! Ha ha. I'm pretty funny tonight."
"It must be the sugar, Nerisa said through gritted teeth.
At first she'd thought the Favorite was a cute little thing. She felt sorry for him because he had to live in a hunk of stone. But after several hours in Gundara's company she just wanted to get the job over with and hand him back to Safar. Honestly, he asked such personal questions. Statements, actually. Like accusing her of being in love with Safar. Which was true, but it was none of his fiendish business.
Gundara gripped the edge of a slender book and heaved mightily. It came out so fast he lost his balance. He squealed as he fell, scaring Nerisa half to death. She caught him in midair, but the book slammed to the floor, echoing loudly.
"Be careful, she whispered. You'll wake them up!"
"Oh, piddle pooh, the Favorite saidalthough he did whisper. You could shout at the top of your voice and those old gas bags would never wake up."
"Just the same, Nerisa said, I wish you'd be more quiet. I'm used to working alone and loud sounds bother me."
"You're a pretty good little thief, dearie, Gundara said. But I bet you wish you had me around all the time. You'd be rich! We'd steal everything that wasn't nailed down."
"Riiight, Nerisa said, bending down to pick up the book.
It was thin and seemed to contain so few pages Nerisa feared Safar would be disappointed. The leather was cracked and old, but from the light Gundara gave off she could see the worn image of a four-headed serpent.
"That's Asper's book all right, Gundara said. There's probably not more than five or six in the whole world. He preened, proud of his work.
She started to fish a treat from her pocket to reward him, when he suddenly saidquite loud"You shut up, Gundaree. You couldn't of found it if it were on fire. So there. Don't you call me that! Shut up, you hear me? Shut up! Shut up! Shu"
Nerisa clamped a hand over his mouth, cutting off the rest.
"Stop that, she said. Or I'll wring your neck. I swear I will."
When she took her hand away Gundara hung his head. He kicked at the floor with his elegant little foot. I'm sorry, he said. He just gets me soooo mad, sometimes."
"Just don't do it anymore, Nerisa said. Then she gave him the treat.
Gundara grinned and gobbled it down. I like you, dearie, he said. I hope Safar gives you a nice little diddle after he gets the book."
"Don't talk like that, Nerisa said. It isn't nice."
"But it's what you want, isn't it? the Favorite teased. A big old sloppy kiss and then get diddled all night."
Nerisa tucked the book away with the stone idol. That's enough, she said. And if you say one word like that to Safar, I'll, I'll… never speak to you again. See if I don't."
Apparently this was a greater threat than a neck-wringing, for Gundara instantly apologized and said he'd never, ever do such a thing. Then he led the way back to the library door, shrunk down to flea size again and they slipped out into the corridor. After an hour of creeping about in the dark, Nerisa sprinted through the big main gate and headed down the broad avenueleap frogging from shadow to shadow as she made her way back to Safar's place.
She arrived just as Kalasariz and his men were dragging Safar down the stairs.
****
It was a night of terror in Walaria. Kalasariz men swept through the city, breaking down doors and hauling frightened young men into the streets where they were beaten and questioned under the shuttered windows of their families homes. Then they were taken to the spymaster's torture rooms where they were questioned further and forced to sign confessions. There were about fifty in all, although less than half were acquainted with Olari. The others were innocent, but had been marked for seizure by Kalasariz informers who did a record business that night collecting bribes from enemies of the young men and their families.
Justice was swift. There was no trial, nor were any of the condemned present when a High Judge sentenced them to death. The mass execution was set for the following daywhich happened to be Founder's Day. Town criers went through the city, shouting the news of the executions and posting notices listing the names of the condemned and their crimes.
At the top of the list was the name of the ringleaderone Safar Timura, foreigner.
At the bottom of the list was the name of one of his dupesOlari, citizen.
****
"Apparently I misjudged my family's influence, Olari said.
Safar wrung out the rag, freshened it from the pail of cold water and wiped the blood from Olari's face. He had been beaten so badly his head was swollen to half again its size.
"You always were a master of understatement, Safar said.
Other than the bruises he'd suffered when he was captured, Safar was unscathed. For some reason he hadn't been tortured and his confession"an unsigned document with Kalasariz sealhad been good enough for the High Judge.
"The real pity of it is, Olari said, I'm not even getting any credit. I'm to go down in Walarian history as a mere minion."
"And I the minion in chief, Safar said. On the whole I'd rather pass on the honor. But Kalasariz was quite insistent. You know how persuasive he is."
"My father most likely paid a handsome sum to have me listed as a dupe of your devilish tongue, Olari said. Protecting the family honor and all that. Stupid, I guess, is better than king of the traitors."
The two young men were in the company of six other youths, all suffering from the ghastly work of the torturer. They were slumped in the center of the cell, barely able to chase away inquisitive insects and rats. All eight of them were to be beheaded by Tulaz, the master executioner. The others, crowded in nearby cells, would be parceled out in lots five or less to ten other executioners.
"There is one consolation, Olari said.
"What's that? Safar asked. I could use a bit of cheering up."
"I'm to go last, Olari said. Which means whether Tulaz succeeds or fails, I'll be remembered. If he strikes off my head with one blow, I'll be helping him break his record. If not, why I'll go down in the wagering books as the one who ended Tulaz remarkable streak."
Safar laughed. It was a bitter sound. I wish I could be there to see how it turns out, he said. Unfortunately, I go first."
Olari tried to laugh. A sharp pain in his ribs turned it to a low groan. When he'd recovered, he shook his head, saying, I always was"
His words were cut off by a coughing fit. Safar held him until it stopped. Then his companion spit blood into the pail. There was a plop as one of his teeth fell into the water.
He looked up at Safar, grinning a bloody grin.
"What I was trying to get out before nature so rudely interrupted me, Olari said, was that I've always been a lucky dog.
"And it looks like that luck is going to stick with me until the very end."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DEATH SPEAKS
"You're too tense, the trainer complained as he kneaded the massive body stretched out before him. Can't get the kinks out less you relax."
"Slept like shit, Tulaz said. Don't know what's wrong with me. I al'ays sleep like a babe. Specially afore a work day. But it weren't like that last night. Kept dreamin about this little fiendish thing. Body like a man, face like a to
ad. Kept on sayin''Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
The trainer's brow knotted in worry. The executionsmoved to the main arena to handle the Founder's Day crowdswere less than an hour away. All his savings had been risked on the outcome.
"Bad luck, a dream like that, Tulaz went on. Got me all out of sorts, it did. Can't figure out what I done to bring it on."
"You purged yourself like I tole you? the trainer asked, pummeling Tulaz thick body.
The Master Executioner of Walaria snorted. 'Course. Filled five buckets, didn't I?"
"And you've been stickin to your diet?"
"Gruel and water'd wine, nothin more, Tulaz said. It's this big rush that's botherin me. I usually get some notice, you know? Couple of days at least to get into shape. Sides, I just broke me own record couple a days ago.
"Seven heads takes a lot out of a man, which most people don't appreciate. They just come and see me lop em off. Miss all the fine points. Don't know how hard I works to keep a good form. I ain't recovered from the seven, yet. Now I gotta go for eight, afore I'm even ready."
"Don't think about it, the trainer advised. It's just one more day like any other. Keep that in your noggin and it'll work out fine."
"Sure, Tulaz said. That's the trick. Just another day. Nothin special about it."
The trainer poured scented oil on Tulaz and started working it in. And each head, too, he said. Look at em the same way. Don't count how many you gots to go. One or eight, what's the difference? They all gotta come off one at a time. Nothin special about that."
"Yeah, Tulaz said. That's the only way they goone at a time. Thanks. I'm feelin much better already."
The trainer chuckled and said thanks weren't necessary. He finished his task, covered Tulaz with heavy towels and advised him to take a nap.
"I'll call you in plenty of time, he said.
He crept out of the training room, but just before he exited he looked back at Tulaz. The giant executioner was lying face up, a brawny arm shielding his eyes.
And he was muttering to himself: Shut up, shut up, shut up. Wonder what he meant?"