Citadel

by Martin Ash

  Feikermun seemed discomfited by this. He scowled, rocking slightly from side to side, and chewed in agitation at his inner cheek.

  ‘Lord Feikermun, might I add something more?’

  He gave a single, brooding nod.

  ‘I was present not an hour earlier at another singular event, concerning which I have no doubt you have been informed. A creature of some kind materialized briefly in the street, coming out of the air itself, and slew an innocent passer-by, then vanished.’

  'What do you know of the woman’s innocence?’ demanded Feikermun with sudden accusation.

  ‘I know nothing of her. Nothing at all. I coined a casual figure of speech, that is all. I assumed—’

  ‘You assume much, Cormer of Chol.’

  ‘My lord, I meant nothing. My enquiry was in regard to the nature of the extraordinary event I witnessed, that is all.’

  Renewed shrieks came from the man in the iron cage. I looked his way and saw that he was a mass of burns, blistering, weeping. His skin glistened, red and angry as he threshed in helpless agony. I forced my eyes shut, clenching my jaw. I had begun to shake. I did not know if I could bear any more.

  Feikermun hammered angrily on the table with his fist. ‘Be silent! he yelled over my shoulder. ‘Feikermun is talking! Do you wish your tongue torn out?’

  I could not tell whether the prisoner even heard him, but his cries abated somewhat. Then I heard erratic rattling and a slow, rhythmic, metallic creaking.

  ‘Ha!’ ejaculated Feikermun, and stood suddenly, grinning and holding out a hand to the one-eyed fighter. ‘Hircun!’

  Hircun shook his head, compressing his lips in a resigned expression, half-smile, half-grimace. Several silver coins lay on the table before him, which he now pushed towards Feikermun. The mad despot gathered them up with an exaggerated sweep of his arms and looked in triumph at me. ‘Hircun and Feikermun wagered on the time it would take for the prisoner to think of swinging. They vary greatly. To some it never occurs at all; others begin as soon as the coals are placed beneath the cage. Hircun believed this one would begin almost immediately, as soon as the metal began to grow hot, if not before. But I, Feikermun, said no! It will take time. The entire cage will heat up before he thinks of it.’

  I turned my head. The prisoner was applying his weight back and forth to cause the cage to swing upon its chain. To and fro it went, slowly, in a gathering arc, while he screamed out his agonies.

  ‘It makes little difference,’ observed Feikermun matter-of-factly, seating himself again. ‘The iron will not cool sufficiently. It merely prolongs their suffering. Strong men have endured for more than a night and a day in that cage.’

  I stood stiff and impotent, trying to shut out the terrible sounds, fighting down my anger and the urge to do something, anything, to relieve the poor wretch’s suffering. For there was nothing I could do, and the notion had occurred to me that it might be partly for my benefit, my instruction, my intimidation, that this inhuman spectacle was being staged.

  ‘Cormer of Chol, Wirm says that the article you obtained from the snake-bellied merchant Dinbig of Khimmur, whose very name causes Feikermun to gag’ — Feikermun hawked and spat a great gobbet of discoloured fluid onto the floor — ‘is in your possession now.’

  I gave a nod. ‘That is so, my lord.’

  ‘Feikermun will see it.’

  I still had my pack. I reached in and withdrew the green amber in its cloth, and passed it to Feikermun. He unwrapped it, admiring it for some moments, turning it over in his hands. The light gleamed warmly in its citrine depths, the tiny still insects a cloud at its core. ‘It is an exceptional piece. No doubt you would wish Feikermun to have it, as a gift, a demonstration of your goodwill. That, presumably, is your reason for bringing it here?’

  Cold smiles appeared on the faces of Wirm, Bondo and the other man. Hircun remained impassive. I gulped back my pride, knowing I was had. ‘My lord, if it pleases you to have it, then it is yours.’

  ‘You are kind.’

  The prisoner’s shrieks suddenly mounted once more. I found myself trembling, my whole body vibrating involuntarily. Something rose up, angry and uncontrollable, from deep within me. Before I could stop myself I had blurted out: ‘My lord, please, I must ask that this man be freed from his torment!’

  With an expression of dark surprise Feikermun of Selph thrust himself back in his seat. ‘You must ask? You must ask Feikermun?’

  He leaned towards me again, glaring. His thick forearms and huge, loosely bunched hands came to rest on the table before him. For a moment, as I stood firm under his stare, I believed I was about to die. Then, to my surprise he gave a peremptory nod, twisted his lips into an unpleasant smile and said, ‘Very well.’

  He rose, leaving his seat and stepped around the table, beckoning to me. ‘Come.’

  I followed him across the hall to where the two torturers stood beside the swinging cage and brazier.

  ‘Remove the coals and still the cage,’ commanded Feikermun.

  The two dragged the brazier to one side, then, with the aid of wooden poles tipped with metal hooks, grasped the bars of the metal cage and brought it to rest before us. There was a sickening smell of burnt hair and flesh. I gazed at the poor ruin of a man inside. He still squirmed and writhed in his impossible efforts to rid himself of the terrible heat of the metal.

  ‘Take this wretch from the cage and put Master Cormer in his place,’ said Feikermun.

  ‘No!’ The word had catapulted from between my lips before I could prevent it. I drew back involuntarily, straight into the grip of the two guards.

  ‘No?’ Feikermun taunted me with mock surprise, amusement in his eyes, a cold, sardonic smile playing on his lips. ‘No? But it is Feikermun’s understanding that you wish this man’s torment to cease?’

  ‘That is my hope, yes, to which end I call upon your great compassion and mercy.’

  ‘Ha-ha!’ He laughed uproariously, then was suddenly silent, his hands upon his hips, fixing me with moist eyes and an offended expression. ‘Feikermun knows nothing of such things, but he offers you a choice. Save him. He can go free, this minute. His associates, too. But you must take his place.’

  I knew the prisoner was watching me, knew there was the wildest, most desperate hope in his tortured eyes. The world seemed to close in on me. My legs threatened to give way. There was a roaring in my ears and no other sound but the deafening storm of my own breathing. I noted the word ‘associates’, and heard my voice as if from a distance, spoken by someone else. ‘With what offence are this man and his associates charged?’

  ‘That is irrelevant!’ snapped Feikermun. ‘It is not for one such as you to question Feikermun! Cormer of Chol, Feikermun says to you once more, for the last time, you may save this man, you may restore him to life and freedom. You have only to say the word. Take his place, and he and those he works with, will be freed.’

  I cast my eyes down, despising Feikermun with every fibre of my being.

  ‘Well?’

  I could not respond.

  He thrust his great head up close to mine. ‘Well?’

  He would not relent. He would not let me off. ‘Feikermun is waiting, Cormer of Chol.’

  I shook my head. ‘I cannot. I cannot take his place.’

  ‘Not even to save the others? There are three, I believe four waiting in cells. One of them a woman, with her young child.’

  I stared at him, aghast.

  ‘One more chance, Cormer of Chol. One more. Do you say yes, or no?’

  ‘Lord Feikermun, I can’t take his place. You know I can’t.’

  ‘Resume!’ said Feikermun to the two torturers.

  The prisoner gave a great cry. ‘Nooooo! My lord, I beg you, please! Sir, please! Be merciful! Help me! Be merciful!’

  I had barely the strength to support myself. I turned away, swaying. Without the two guards holding my arms I would not have made it back to stand before the table with the others. The sound of the prisoner’s s
creams as the brazier was pushed back into place slammed into my brain, reverberated inside my head, pierced to the deepest marrow of my bones, damning me.

  Feikermun came back to stand before me, glaring at me.

  ‘Enough!’ he bellowed with a sudden gush of temper. Then he said in a softer tone, ‘The entertainment pales. Kill him.’

  I steeled myself, reaching desperately within to summon strength, though I knew I was incapable of resisting. I tried to speak but my words were choked in my throat. Off to my side there was a clink of metal on metal, a short sigh, and the screaming died. I exhaled, shuddering, and closed my eyes. It was not me he had meant. I felt the caged man’s life. I felt it hover, accusing, then flee this world. It could have been me, but I had elected otherwise. I had made that choice.

  I opened my eyes again, forcing myself to lift my head to face Feikermun once more. He was seated again, eyeing me, his head above that of one of his mutilated victims. His smile taunted and sickened me, then vanished.

  ‘Cormer of Chol, why did you go this morning to Stonemarker?’

  I took several deep breaths, instilling calm into myself. The three severed heads seemed now to gaze upon me with reproach. I was dead, I knew, unless I could persuade Feikermun that I was indispensable to him. ‘It was largely out of curiosity, Lord Feikermun. I hoped, in fact, to catch a glimpse of your enemy, Malibeth, for I am curious to know whether it was she who appeared to me in your chamber when we met during the night.’

  ‘Malibeth? No, oh, no. That one, she is not the mad sow Malibeth.’

  ‘Then, my lord, might I ask who she is?’

  His unease was evident. He drew back, scratching at the side of his nose, seemingly indecisive. I realized I might easily overplay my hand, for with someone as unpredictable as he it was impossible to know where the boundaries lay. Yet the line I was adopting, though not to Feikermun’s liking, was the right one, I was almost sure. It angered him that the woman had appeared solely to me. He was jealous, even. But he was insatiably curious, too. On this I gambled. I had been made special in Feikermun’s eyes, though it vexed him profoundly to admit it.

  He failed to answer my question, so I pressed forward. ‘I was also trying to gain directions to the Citadel.’

  Feikermun started visibly and his eyes bulged. I sensed tension in the four men seated around him. The one I had not seen before leaned across and said something.

  ‘What do you know of the Citadel?’ demanded Feikermun.

  ‘Only that she told me I should go there.’

  ‘She? You have seen her again?’

  ‘She came to me in the night, my lord.’

  He stiffened, then vented a loud blast of air through his nostrils. ‘What did she say to you?’

  ‘That I should go to the Citadel. That is all.’

  ‘Nothing more?’ He didn’t quite believe me.

  ‘Nothing. Not an indication of where it lies nor how I might find it.’

  Feikermun pushed himself abruptly out of his seat once more and strode across the hall, gripping his bearded chin. At the far wall he wheeled around and pointed at me. ‘To whom have you spoken about this?’

  ‘I asked one or two persons in the street for directions.’

  ‘What was their response?’

  ‘Nobody I asked had heard of this place.’

  ‘Piss upon you all!’ He stomped back across the hall, then altered course and came directly at me. He stood in front of me, fulminating. I smelt his sweat and the odours of stale food upon him; his breath reeked of sweet wine. He was almost a head shorter than I, yet he was broad and mightily muscled. He was quite capable of tearing me apart with his bare hands. ‘Cormer of Chol,’ he breathed, ‘where is the gidsha?’

  I raised my pack. ‘Here.’

  ‘Is it prepared?’

  ‘No. I was about to return to the palace to commence preparation when I was arrested by your men.’

  ‘Go. Prepare it, now. Bring it to me when you are done.’

  He walked away. Prompted by the guards, I turned and left the hall.

  Outside we were met by the sloppily garbed steward who had escorted me earlier. ‘Is there anything you require for your preparation?’ he enquired.

  ‘Only clean water. And a mortar and pestle.’

  ‘They will be brought.’

  The world seemed a blur. I was weak and sick to my core. The muscles in my back and neck ached with tension, and I was half-numbed by what I had experienced. I felt that I walked in a place where I did not truly exist, where I should not exist, for to exist here was an obscenity - beyond contemplation. It was as though I had become complicit in all I had witnessed. I was gripped by a heavy, impotent rage and an anguish of the spirit that threatened to crush me.

  As I was marched on towards my apartment on the second floor I asked of the steward what crime the man in the cage had committed.

  ‘His wife’s cousin was heard to speak of His Excellency in uncomplimentary terms.’

  ‘His wife’s cousin? But was he directly implicated?’

  ‘By association. His Excellency arrested the man’s family, every relative that could be found.’

  ‘What has become of them?’

  ‘They have all been, or will be, executed.’

  ‘In that cage? Even women and children?’

  ‘Not the women or young girls, of course not. The Excellency does not cook women, for he requires their blood. It is the Source, after all. The Blood of Life, of Divinity. Some are gone now, but their blood has nourished him.’ We arrived at my door and he bowed his head. ‘I shall attend to your request.’

  I entered, closing the door behind me, vaguely aware that the guards remained outside. I crossed the room unsteadily to the open window, pushed my head out and retched, violently and uncontrollably. When I had done and my stomach could heave no more, I left the window, trembling from head to toe, and threw myself upon the bed and wept.

  Twelve

  The preparation of the gidsha root was not difficult. It was largely a matter of pulping, as the root is hard and fibrous and almost indigestible, and of disguising its natural flavour, which is bitter and thoroughly disgusting. There were one or two specific treatments the Chariness had instructed me to carry out, but even these could be mastered by almost anyone of reasonable intelligence, given a little time and patience.

  It was important, however, that Feikermun believed otherwise. My continuing survival depended upon his unshakeable conviction that he needed me. At some point I would have to hand over the last of the gidsha I had brought; at that time, if not before, Feikermun would demand to know the techniques of preparation. Once he had those he would still require me (as he thought) to maintain the supply of the specially cultivated root, but I would not be needed close at hand.

  In many ways that would have been my preference. I could leave Dhaout and its insanity and violence, ostensibly to acquire more of the drug. Once clear of Dhaout, Linias Cormer could cease to exist and I could return to Khimmur and become Ronbas Dinbig once more.

  But I was deluding myself with this thought, for I had yet to complete my task here. I had made virtually no progress so far, and I could not return to Khimmur with unsatisfactory results without incurring the Hierarchy’s displeasure. I might even be instructed to return here - the last thing I wanted.

  And, on a more immediately personal level, I was far from solving the mystery of my double, who I had now actually seen, and the new enigmas of the ghostly beauty who had appeared to me, the bizarre manifestations that were occurring here, and the mysterious Citadel. Something was happening in Dhaout, something extraordinary and terrifying. With the lunatic Feikermun at its head, though not necessarily in control, it threatened to spread chaos and terror beyond Anxau’s borders. But what was it? What was this power that would transform Feikermun into a living, vengeful god? And how could it be stopped?

  I felt impotent, knowing so little and with only the vaguest notion of how to proceed. And as I in fact ha
d no lasting supply of the gidsha, my remaining here would be an ongoing game of bluff and evasion, with my life suspended in the balance.

  The steward brought clean water, in a tall earthenware pitcher and a mortar and pestle as requested. I enquired of him as to the whereabouts of Jaktem and Ilian.

  ‘It is my understanding that they are in their chamber, sir,’ he replied.

  ‘I would like to see them.’

  He hesitated a moment, considering. ‘I have no specific instructions in that regard, but His Excellency awaits you, and that is your priority.’