Warrior (The Key to Magic)

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Warrior (The Key to Magic) Page 18

by H. Jonas Rhynedahll


  "... all the...out of the...but has left the Lower City..."

  The first voice was male, but otherwise nondescript.

  "...Plaza...and what about the...?"

  This voice was also male and one that Purhlea thought sounded familiar. He risked poking his head out to get a look with his eye. A short, dry passage sloped sharply up to an open, thick-plank door. With the source of the light out of sight to the left, no one was visible in the stone-walled room beyond. Trying to make no sound, he slid around the corner and crept up to the door.

  "... and the Library is sealed," the first voice said. "I talked to an acolyte of the Temple of Mhokh who said that armsmen of the Imperial Army had barricaded themselves inside, but I have no confirmation of that. Our source in Hwraldek's household says that an official proclamation of the Council of Patriarchs will be issued in the morning, naming Hwraldek as interim viceroy."

  The second voice said, "Has there been any mention of purges?"

  Purhlea was sure of it now. That was Erskh, titular Grand Commandant of the Viceroy’s Personal Guard.

  "None," the first voice replied. "It seems that the whole Privy Council is involved, but none of them are openly participating."

  "No overtures were made to me," Erskh mused. "My exclusion can only mean that they did not believe my cooperation necessary. Complete the preparations for my escape from the city. I want to be able to leave at a moment's notice."

  Purhlea turned about and signaled Khraake and Lhot to come up and then stepped through the door and immediately pivoted left.

  Walled in moldy stone, the cellar room was five spaces square and bare save for the simple table that held up the lamp. A narrow stairway led upward in the far corner. Erskh, dressed in lounging robes of white and crimson, and his unnamed fellow, whose rough shirt, trousers, and boots were, like Purhlea's and the two guardsmen's, smeared with filth from tramping through the sewers, stood alongside the table.

  Purhlea's entrance shocked the two men into silence. Erskh's jowly face blanched.

  "Make no alarm," Purhlea warned, advancing to point his sword squarely at the Grand Commandant.

  "Oh, oh... uh... uh... Lord Purhlea!... uh... thank the Forty-Nine that you are alive, my lord viceroy! Word has been spread that you had been killed in the riots!"

  "Lhot, secure the stairs," Purhlea ordered. The guardsman, keeping his eyes and sword on the two men, moved around the wall to take up the position.

  Erskh flicked his eyes back and forth, his breath coming in short gasps, and then he steadied and declared, "My lord viceroy, we must immediately rally our loyal forces and drive the usurpers out!"

  "So, you claim to be not part of the plot?"

  "Of course not, my lord viceroy! I am a faithful servant of the Emperor!"

  "Then why have you not raised any resistance against Hwraldek?"

  "Ah, with the, ah, festival and riots, yes, with the riots, I have been unable to contact any of the Guard units. Moreover, the streets of the Old City are controlled completely by armsmen in the pay of the Patriarchs and they have enforced a ban on all travel. My loyal servant here, Bhyaestimys, has slipped about beneath the city to bring me information but has had no success in contacting any of the ranking officers. As far as we know, all the Guard posts have been shuttered. I fear that Hwraldek's thugs have imprisoned or murdered all of the guardsmen that were in the Old City."

  "What of those in the Lower City?"

  "I have had no word on those at all, my lord viceroy, but with the rioting, I must believe that they have all been carried away."

  "How many armsmen do you have in the house?"

  "None, my lord viceroy. There are only the servants and my wife and youngest son."

  "You have a sword?"

  "Yes. Ah, that is, it is mostly decorative, but, well... ah, yes." Erskh began to look apprehensive.

  "You can fetch it presently. Any other arms in the house?"

  "Only kitchen knives. My lord viceroy, surely you do not intend to lead your two men and I in an assault on the rebels? While that would be most courageous, would it not be better to retreat from the city and raise a loyal force in the countryside? Bhyaestimys is a veritable master of the underground spaces of the Old City and can lead us through the sewers to a concealed exit that will allow us access to a boat --"

  Purhlea cut Erskh off. "First, we are going to bind up our wounds, then we are going to gather up any men that we can. Bhyaestimys, I overheard you to say that there are armsmen in the Library. Do you know an underground route that will take us there?"

  "Yes, my lord, I think so."

  "Fine, we will head there first.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The Monolith was ablaze with light and all her anti-skyship polybolos fully manned. Uncharacteristically wearing chainmail and hefting an iron shod staff, Master Khlosb'ihs met Mar on the ancient bridge dock with all of his marine officers and a number of the workmen from the skyship yards. All the workmen were armed, though in the case of many that often meant simply whatever club had come to hand.

  Not bothering with the ramp that Ulor was having put out to take off Phehlahm's body, Mar flew over to meet the obviously troubled shipwright and the agitated group surrounding him.

  "Have you had any other word from Khalar?" Mar asked immediately.

  "No, my lord king. Ihlvoh returned just a hour ago to say that he could not find Vice-Captain Mhygaeus where he had left him off. In fear for his safety, I've forbidden him from returning to Khalar." He indicated the commander of the marine brigade. "Captain Khor'landt has readied his marines to move at your word. We'll have a sailed Number class skyship that will be ready to fly within six hours. I'm sure we can get better than a full troop aboard. With Ihlvoh at the helm, the transport can reach Khalar is under seven hours after that."

  Mar's expression tightened. "Where's Ihlvoh now?"

  "Sleeping, my lord king."

  Mar glanced over to where six marines under Ulor's direction were bearing Phehlahm's shroud-wrapped body ashore. "Keep him here. I don't want him anywhere close to any fighting. Do you understand?"

  Looking slightly taken aback at the harshness of Mar's tone, Khlosb'ihs said, "I'll make sure of it, my lord king. I have a ship master named Phoyslig who's volunteered to sail the new skyship. He should be able to reach Khalar in no more than twenty hours. Less, if the winds cooperate."

  "Make the preparations, but hold them here until I send for them."

  "Aye, my lord king."

  All of Khlosb'ihs' officers came to attention as the bier was carried passed. One of the bearers was E'hve, who contrary to Mar's fears, had been found unharmed and asleep in his bunk. In spite of the fact that Mar had laid the blame solely at the feet of the Brotherhood, the subaltern had seemed to have taken on the responsibility for Phehlahm's death.

  "You lost a man, my lord king?" Khlosb'ihs asked quietly.

  "Phehlahm. He took an assassin's thrust that was meant for me."

  "I am sorry, my lord king. He was a faithful and brave man."

  Thinking that the same empty-sounding -- at least to him -- eulogy would be offered up for all of the men and women that would die for their king, Mar did not reply.

  THIRTY-FIVE

  Telriy watched from the steerage deck as the Empress Telriy descended toward the Palace.

  Lord Ghorn, her every watchful and unsmiling sentinel, said, "The king's skyship is not at its moorings."

  Telriy closed her eyes briefly to seek through the ether, focusing beyond the blazing light song that was her unborn daughter. When she did not sense the trumpeting beacon that was Mar, she confirmed, "He isn't here."

  "The king may have gone out to do battle with the monks," Lord Ghorn speculated. "Captain Thylbr said that he often raids into Bronze."

  "We may be too late," Telriy told him, unable to restrain the rush of unreasoned despondency that overcame her. The reins of her emotions had grown frayed as her belly grew. Gran had once told her that childbearing could m
ake some women erratic, but had never thought that such would happen to her.

  "Not possible," the Prince-Commander stated as if this fundamental truth were written on the foundations of the world. "He will return to Mhajhkaei and to you."

  "You believe that?"

  "I would not have crossed half the world to find you if I did not."

  Telriy rolled her shoulders in a weak shrug. She had resolved not to be seen behaving like some love-sick girl rushing back to her gallant. Gran had said, "Love isn’ real," and Telriy knew this to be a fact. Love was a merciless fever that sickened silly-minded fools and made them do stupid things.

  Then her daughter kicked and she placed her hands on her belly to delight in the experience, letting her worries fade from her mind.

  As soon as they had come within range, Captain Thylbr had ordered a signalman to flag the Palace to announce the identity of his passenger. Telriy let Third Officer Keiarh, who had shown with unmistakable clarity that he needed the practice, bring the big skyship down to the mooring platform. The former scholar rose to the occasion and nudged the vessel up against the dock with hardly a jar.

  While deckhands and some of the waiting marines fixed the boarding ramp in place, Telriy took time to thank the captain, his officers, and the assembled crew for their assistance, then, with Lord Ghorn trailing close, moved ponderously to and down the ramp. Rather than the boisterous mob of children and Auxiliaries that she had half-expected, she found a welcoming but solemn Yhejia standing with Mhiskva and a quarter-troop of fully armed marines.

  "There is trouble in Khalar," the woman told her straightaway. "The king has gone north."

  Telriy pressed her lips together. "I should go there to help."

  Mhiskva saluted. "My lady queen, a battle is no place for a woman that is so close to giving birth."

  "My place is anywhere that I want to be," Telriy retorted with considerable ire. Mar might be subject to the requirements of these Mhajhkaeirii, but she would not be.

  "You'll be a distraction that he shouldn't have," Yhejia scolded. "You know this is true."

  Unable to come up with an argument to refute this that would not be patently disingenuous, Telriy just nodded

  Watching Telriy keenly, Yhejia's eyes tightened, and then she leaned in to give Telriy an all enveloping hug.

  "Look at you! You're as big as a skyship!"

  Instead of tossing off a cavalier remark, Telriy just gave a nod full of fierce pride.

  The other woman, ever the mother, took her arm and Telriy felt her spirits begin to lift. She had missed the practical-minded woman.

  "You come along with me," Yhejia ordered. "You can't be more than a fortnight from your time and you shouldn't be traveling at all. We'll get you a bath and something decent to eat. I know you couldn't have had anything fresh on the skyship. I'll send to the Monolith right away for Aunt Whelsi. I've been a midwife a time or two, but I'll feel better with her here."

  Telriy let herself be led into the palace. A quick command from Mhiskva sent marines running down the stairs ahead of them. She could not help but notice that all of the armsmen looked as if they expected to have to do battle at any moment.

  THIRTY-SIX

  143rd Year of the Reign of the City

  (Fourthday, Waning, 3rd Springmoon, 1645 After the Founding of the Empire)

  Palace of the Empire, Mhajhkaei

  At last, Ghorn allowed a grin to crack the deep worn scowl lines of his face, then reached out to take High-Captain Mhiskva's hand in a firm grip. Fulfilling Ghorn's expectations of unshakable aplomb, the marine officer had made no demonstration when he had seen Ghorn behind the queen.

  "My lord prince, I am pleased to see that the reports of your death are somewhat premature," the giant said in an everyday manner.

  "No more so than I," Ghorn said with a thoughtful laugh.

  Mhiskva chuckled with him for a moment, then sobered. "The Empress Telriy has no polybolos, my lord prince. With the king absent, she has no chance against a Phaelle'n attack. Unless you have an objection, I am going to order her to the Monolith."

  Ghorn nodded quickly. "As you see fit, High-Captain."

  Under the curious eyes of the motionless ranks of the remaining marines, he waited, idly gazing over the refurbished palace, the new, heroically-sized skyship entrance, and the greening grounds. His thoughts turned naturally but not for the first time to a consideration of what his place would be in Mhajhkaei. From facts that he had gleaned along his journey and discussions with Captain Thylbr, he knew that the king had named Mhiskva Viceroy of the city and just recently First Minister of the Empire. Ghorn's former subordinate was now effectively the highest ranking officer in the imperial forces.

  The king and the high-captain had carried on without him, exactly as he had wished that they would do. Mar had taken the reins of power and become a king in deed as well as title and Mhiskva had assumed the role of his able and loyal lieutenant, advocate, and confidant. Together they had driven the monks back and retaken The Greatest City in All the World.

  Ghorn found with no surprise that he had a strong desire not to return to his former position of prominence. There had been something exhilaratingly liberating about traveling the world as naught but a common armsman with a concise task and, his title of Prince-Commander notwithstanding, he felt that he had no right to supplant Mhiskva in the chain of command. He did not believe that there was a better man to build an empire than the selfless and utterly courageous marine officer.

  When the Empress Telriy had cast off, Ghorn accompanied Mhiskva into the palace. As he knew that Mhiskva would not deem it his place to inquire, while they walked he relayed the basic details of his capture, escape and journey to return the queen.

  "This sorcerer, Waleck, is not sane," Mhiskva ventured when Ghorn had finished.

  "I have no doubt. However, his ability to see futures gives him great power. When he told me about the queen, I had no choice but to follow his instructions, but I do not care to continue as a pawn."

  "Is the king's magic strong enough to overcome the sorcerer's?"

  "I do not know," Ghorn replied honestly, "but I hope that it is. Give me an overview of our current situation."

  "The Brotherhood has withdrawn from Plydyre and we hold the island with a light and inexperienced force. Most of our strength, both legions and skyships, is moving toward Lhinstord and Zlhahv and making preparations to begin an attack on the monks in Mhevyr. Yesterday, Master Khlosb'ihs sent word of fighting in Khalar, but he had no knowledge as to its nature or extent. We are not in contact with Lord Purhlea. The king immediately flew Number One north with an extra section of legionnaires packed aboard. He ordered me to stand fast here until I received direct orders from him. I have dispersed the unarmed skyships and placed the marine brigade, with Maidsear Berhl in command, on alert."

  "No messages since the king's departure?" Ghorn asked for the sake of confirmation.

  "None."

  "The Defenders are in Lhinstord?"

  "The Steo Hills."

  "Do you have any armsmen available to reinforce the king? I could take them to Khalar."

  "We have the marines of Brigade B, who are currently assigned to guard the Citadel and city gates and the Palace. There are also the trainers and recruits of the new sections that belong to the III Corps. In addition, we could announce a levy for volunteers."

  Mhiskva's tone made it clear that he thought stripping the city bare of defenders in the absence of a demonstrated drastic need was unwise. Though it grated to simply wait, Ghorn found that he could not disagree.

  "Without knowing the situation in Khalar, any impulsive move, especially with untrained armsmen, would be foolish."

  "Aye, my lord prince."

  "Then I suppose that I have no option but to stand by."

  "Aye, my lord prince."

  Gawking at the new grandeur of the skyship entrance, Ghorn said nothing further until they entered the anteroom at the bottom of the stairs.

&
nbsp; "I shall ask the king for a forward command. As Prince-Commander of Mhajhkaei, my duty is in the field against the enemy."

  After a long moment, Mhiskva said, "The Defenders, the Reapers, the Elboern Legion and the legions of the Sister Cities are trying to form into an army west of Lhinstord. Dealing with the competing prerogatives of the various high-borne foreign commanders will be a thankless and oppressive task."

  "A task that is therefore fit for a prince of Mhajhkaei."

  "Aye, my lord prince."

  The matter resolved, Ghorn ignored his better judgment and indulged an irrational but nevertheless intensely personal impulse. "Has there been any trouble from Lady Rhavaelei while I have been away?"

  "Aye, my lord prince. She assaulted the king. He ordered her put in chains and cast into the dungeon."

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  Just an hour after daybreak, with every man aboard her standing to arms, the polybolos crews at their stations, and the deck between the steerage and the cabin section crowded full of tense marines armed with crossbows, Mar brought Number One down into the Plaza of the Empire between the obelisk and the Library. The large group of swordsmen who had been standing guard there, their tabards showing the colors of numerous Houses, scattered to the south, but immediately tried to rally under the haranguing orders of a thin fellow who Mar would have taken as a scribe.

  Hovering above the cabin deck near Truhsg, Mar ordered "Let them have one sphere."

  The legate snapped an order and the nearest polybolos on the starboard side spat once. The charge of infused sand fell a few paces short, but all of the three score or so were flattened. After a second or two, most got up and began running away. The thin officer was one of those who did not get back to his feet.

  "Deploy the legionnaires," Mar ordered Truhsg.

  The legate called out an order that a fugleman stationed at the hatchway relayed below deck. On either side of Number One, the cargo doors opened and ramps slid down to the pavement. As soon as the iron end plates of the ramps struck, the section, one file to starboard and one to port, marched down and formed ranks. A third of the section was armed with crossbows, including two specialists with bows that would fire sand spheres, and the rest swordsmen and shield bearers. As soon as all of the armsmen were on the pavement, the two files, shields to the fore, marched around the bow of Number One and merged to form a defensive square.

 

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