Circle's End

by Lisanne Norman

  While the others were busy doing this task, Kusac headed for the front of the chapel, where a diorite statue of the Emperor stood. The head had obviously been recently replaced with a likeness of K’hedduk, as he could see a fine line between the two layers of dark stone, where the neck joined the shoulders.

  The body, clad in what he assumed was traditional ancient armor, was more muscular than he remembered K’hedduk’s to be. Reaching out, he ran his hand across the cold polished diorite, picking up the residual worshipful thoughts of generations of priests who had tended it. Definitely not new. Reaching higher, he ran his fingertips, not as sensitive in this body as his natural Sholan form, along the slightly rough join. A rushed job, like those on the Prime world. He let his hand slide down to rest on the outstretched arm.

  Anger surged through him as he stared at the too familiar features of the person who had imprisoned him and his family on the Kz’adul, ruthlessly stripped him of his psychic abilities, tortured him, and played god with their genetic material, creating hybrid Sholan/Human cubs to use as weapons against them.

  He felt the anger flow from him into the statue, watching as the stone began to grow warm.

  Focus! said a voice in his mind as he felt a Sholan hand close on his shoulder. Images of himself and the building bursting into flames filled his mind until the heat beneath his hand became painful.

  How? he responded without thinking.

  Through the statue, into the ground. The unseen hand tightened, claws extending just enough to prick through his clothing.

  L’Shoh! He hissed in pain as the heat beneath his hand intensified.

  A mind, immeasurably older than his, grasped his will, gently shifting its focus until suddenly he understood the nature of the diorite and was able to channel the heat he was creating into the harder crystalline structure within it.

  The pain in his hand vanished as he watched the stone begin to change texture, become lumpy, and finally start to glow a faint cherry red. As the surface became plastic, the arm began to slump downward. The hand was the first to go, the fingers becoming molten globules of rock that dripped down onto the stone-flagged floor.

  Fascinated, Kusac watched the features on the face melt and flow into each other like a wax image. With a hiss, and a blast of heat and light that even he felt, the metal breastplate disintegrated.

  “Kusac, stop,” said Rezac from beside him. “Any more and you’ll be surrounded by molten rock. I think they’ll get the message.”

  With a shuddering breath, Kusac pulled his hand off the statue’s arm, leaving behind a perfectly formed handprint in the swiftly cooling stone.

  “Hmm, hope they can’t get a palm ID from that,” muttered Rezac. “Still, I think your message is loud and clear. They’ll assume only their Zsadhi could do that.”

  A faint chuckle escaped Kusac. “Yeah, I suppose it is,” he said, moving away from the statue.

  There’s a carved stone basin over there, Rezac sent, lapsing back into mental speech. Over by the right at the entrance.

  Open water is considered holy, Kusac replied.

  Think you could carve a sword and the word Zsadhi into it? It would really drive the message home!

  He hesitated.

  It’s just putting your signature to it, sent Rezac, his mental tone persuasive.

  “You worshippers!” The unfamiliar voice was loud in the silence. “What are you doing here at this time of night?”

  They all froze briefly, then Rezac swung round, raising his pistol. As he let off a shot, Kusac reached for the mind of the priest. Both were too late; the alarm had been given.

  Out, now! sent Kusac, forcing his mental contact on the three Primes.

  No time for stealth, just the need to run and escape detection. The Primes reached the door first and had it open as the chapel bell began to peel out.

  Get to the car! sent Rezac as he and Kusac reached the font by the doorway.

  Kusac found he was holding onto it and surprised, looked down into the stone basin of water—it was diorite like the statue.

  A thought in the right direction, now you know the nature of the stone, and it is done, L’Shoh’s voice whispered at his ear. Like this.

  A wave of dizziness passed through him, and he felt the intent for the Zsadhi sword to form in the pool, and the name Zsadhi to be written around it. As he watched, it happened.

  “Stop using me like this,” Kusac hissed, pushing away from the font and letting Rezac pull him outside.

  “You did it!” said Rezac. “Now let’s get the hell out of here before the soldiers arrive!”

  * * *

  They made it as far as the end of the road before they saw and heard a unit of soldiers heading for the chapel at a brisk trot. Diving into the ditch, they lay silently as the grumbling troops passed them.

  Heart pounding, Kusac lay beside Rezac, trying to catch their words as they went past.

  “Second alarm this month!” said one.

  “Probably another novice with nightmares or a bellyache, like the last time.”

  Then they were gone.

  Slowly, keeping as low to the ground as they could, they edged toward the main road. Once across it, they made better time to their vehicle, parked half a mile down the road, hidden in a small copse.

  M’zullian Palace, small hours the same night

  K’hedduk had sent his bodyguards away when Zerdish arrived, wanting time to speak privately to him. More adviser than chief of his personal security, K’hedduk trusted him alone among the current members of his Court. It was a slow process replacing his late brother’s people with his own, and he’d been away for several years. Loyalties could drift during times like those.

  “Ziosh is more than a thorn in my side,” he hissed angrily, leaning back in his desk chair. “He blocks me at every move I try to make. It’s intolerable! He has as much of a sense of his own importance as my brother did, and with less reason!”

  “May I speak frankly, Majesty?” asked Zerdish, settling himself in the chair to the left of his Emperor’s large wooden desk.

  “That’s why I asked you here at this hour,” said K’hedduk testily.

  “Head Inquisitor Ziosh was the power behind your brother, Majesty. Unlike you, he left much of the business of ruling to him.”

  “And he wants it to continue; that much is obvious. I need to draw his teeth, Zerdish, but how do I do that when he controls the Court?”

  “Slowly, Majesty, one tooth at a time.” Zerdish smiled, showing his own many sharp-pointed teeth in a predatory grin. “In fact, I might have just the incident to start dismantling his supporters.”

  K’hedduk raised an eye ridge. “Oh?”

  “Apparently, there was an attack on the chapel on Lord Rashal’s estate last night. A priest trying to give the alarm was killed, and the chapel was . . . desecrated with symbols of some ancient hero called the Zsadhi. Your statue was melted.”

  “Melted?”

  Zerdish inclined his head in assent. “The stone, a particularly hard one, was melted as if it had been made of wax.”

  “How is this possible?” demanded K’hedduk, leaning forward onto the desk. “Once we had such technology, but not now. And who would do it? It has to be members of the Court, or the officer cadre. The genetic programming of the lower ranks prevents just this kind of behavior.” He paused a moment. “Coupled with the fire effects at Lord Nayash’s funeral, we could have a rebellion brewing.”

  “Perhaps. I certainly doubt it is this Zsadhi that’s responsible,” said Zerdish. “However, since it is of a religious nature, you can lay the discovery of the culprits at the feet of the Head Inquisitor.”

  “Indeed,” said K’hedduk, a feral grin on his face. “It involves the priesthood and the state religion, and it reeks of sedition against me. Clearly, he should be tasked with the investigation.
At the least, it will keep him out from under my feet for a while, and at the worst, if he finds nothing, it proves his incompetence. Meanwhile, I expect you to do your utmost to uncover the perpetrators, and prevent Ziosh from making any significant headway. I want those responsible caught and subjected to the most extreme punishment possible as a warning to the rest of the Court! And I want whatever they used to melt that stone!”

  “Of course, Majesty.”

  K’hedduk reached for the drinking vessel on his desk and took a sip. “Talking of the Nayash family, I’m informed that the new Lord has asked to present himself to me today. I need to bind him to my cause as soon as possible. Thanks to your report, I know he was visited secretly by Ziosh the night he arrived. He’s not married, and as the new Lord, it’s time he was. I’m sure we can find someone suitable for him.”

  “I hear his interests lie elsewhere—apart from the young female his late father married, who now graces your harem as Empress,” said Zerdish, his tone carefully neutral.

  “Irrelevant,” said K’hedduk with a wave of his hand, leaning back in his chair again. “He must do his duty to his family, and ties of obligation to me suit my purposes. Do you know of any suitable females? I cannot use one from my currently small harem as he’d likely interpret it as an insult.”

  “Actually, yes,” said Zerdish, his attention focusing back on the Emperor. “My guards brought in a female from the mountain tribes last night. She was traveling in the company of a small band of vagrants we were tracking—runaways from estates trying to live out in the mountains, you know the type. They all died in the encounter, but we did capture the female. We haven’t yet ascertained if she was companion or captive, though. Feisty, like I hear he likes them. We haven’t started questioning her yet.”

  K’hedduk frowned. “Either my brother, or Ziosh, was growing very lax to allow such escapees to get as far as the mountains. What do you usually do with them?”

  “They’re punished, then we split them up and send them to various Royal Barracks for training. But these died fighting my guards rather than surrendering. The female is not one you’d like, Majesty. Too feisty by half. The patrol brought her in relatively unharmed, beyond the fight. They know what would happen to them if they damaged her.”

  “Send her to Keshti. Have him prettify her up. She sounds ideal. I’m meeting with Nayash after the Dawn Rites the day after tomorrow. Have her ready by then.”

  A scratching drew their attention to the door. Before Zerdish had risen from his chair, it banged open to admit the High Inquisitor. Crimson robes swirling around his ankles, he strode purposefully into the room.

  “I must speak to you urgently on a matter of great importance,” he said, stopping in front of the desk. “Privately,” he added, turning a scowl on Zerdish as the other continued to rise from his chair.

  “I think we’ve covered everything, Zerdish,” said K’hedduk smoothly as his chief bodyguard bowed low to him. “We’ll talk more on the last issue after breakfast.”

  “Majesty,” said Zerdish, saluting crisply before turning on his heel and marching out.

  “I was about to send for you, Ziosh. We need to replace the ships we lost at the Prime world, K’oish’ik as a matter of urgency,” K’hedduk said without preamble as he gestured the Head Inquisitor to the chair just vacated.

  Almost unnoticed, two of his black-clad personal bodyguard entered, taking up their accustomed places to either side of his desk by the bookcases.

  “They need to be replaced, certainly, your Majesty, but there is no immediate urgency.”

  “I told you I plan to launch a larger force against the Primes, while they’re still smarting from the last attack.”

  “I should have thought it was obvious to all, Majesty, that it is us who are smarting, not them. What was it we lost again? Some twenty ships and crew, including one of your Generals? But it wasn’t of that . . .”

  “We couldn’t have anticipated them getting help from three different species,” hissed K’hedduk angrily, sitting bolt upright.

  “That’s why my people gather intelligence before acting. The results tend to be . . .” he hesitated for effect, “predictable, and in our favor.”

  K’hedduk bit back the angry retort on his lips. For now, Ziosh held the purse strings, but by all that was holy, that would soon change! Forcing himself to appear to relax, he leaned back again. “And how do you plan to gather intel on the Primes, or their allies?”

  Ziosh’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “We all have our trade secrets, Majesty. We do have footage of the different space vehicles in the battle, which will enable us to identify them.”

  Thinking furiously, K’hedduk stared at him. Who could move among the other species without attracting attention? Certainly not their people. Then it struck him. “You’re using the Delmoi and Vieshen as spies, encouraging them to raid shipping lines to gain information.”

  Ziosh’s brow creased in momentary annoyance. “There’s more than one way to skin your enemy.”

  “I expect a detailed report from you on your dealings with both those species in two days, Ziosh,” said K’hedduk, his voice as cold as ice. “I cannot plan campaigns when I am missing vital data concerning my resources.”

  “Gathering information is the purview of my department,” began Ziosh, his tone only slightly conciliatory.

  “In two days, Ziosh,” repeated K’hedduk. “You may have manipulated my late brother, but I am no one’s puppet, as you’ll discover to your cost if you continue to cross me like this. Now to another matter that might have slipped your attention—the attack on the chapel at Rashal’s estate.”

  “It was of that matter I came to talk to you, Majesty,” said Ziosh.

  “How could you allow this to happen? You are supposed to root out heresy, prevent such acts as this one of rebellion from ever happening, yet what do I hear? That my statue has been melted—melted!—a priest killed, and symbols of some obscure folk hero belonging to the Prime world, not even ours, have been cut into the chapel walls and a font!”

  K’hedduk’s anger as he rose to his feet, punctuating the air in front of the hapless Inquisitor with his finger, was far from feigned. It was Ziosh’s job to find out about such undercurrents of rebellion and destroy them before they ever crystallized into actions.

  “You have failed miserably in this instance, Ziosh. Where was your vaunted Intelligence? Asleep in the temple cloisters after too good a meal? I swear you and your minions live high on the land yet seem to contribute very little to its protection, or mine, as far as I can see!”

  Unseen, the hand resting on the edge of the desk pressed the button summoning Zerdish back into his presence.

  “I want this matter solved within the week, Ziosh. Within the week. Zerdish, escort the Inquisitor out. He’s leaving.”

  * * *

  K’hedduk was pacing in front of his desk when Zerdish returned. “How did my brother allow that . . . parasite Ziosh to take so much power from him?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know, Majesty. I remained on your personal estate, as ordered, until your message reached me a few weeks ago.”

  “The question was rhetorical,” snapped K’hedduk, coming to a halt behind his desk. “I know how it happened. He was lazy, let himself be organized rather than make the effort to exert his own control over his courtiers. Well, Ziosh can disabuse himself of the assumption he’ll rule through me as he did with my brother! I’ll strip him of his power, piece by piece, until it’s all mine again, starting with the Treasury.”

  He sat down in his chair, thoughts tumbling through his mind eighteen to the dozen. “The next Council meeting is in two days. I want you and ten of your best inside the council room on guard duty.”

  “Majesty, there’s no guard normally in there. Outside, yes, but . . .?”

  “There will be that day. I’m going to demand he hands o
ver the Treasury seal to me, and if he doesn’t, you can take it from him by force.”

  “But he’s the Head Inquisitor, sworn to protect your Majesty’s self. It would be treason against you! I can’t do that!” A look of worry crossed the other’s face.

  “You can when I order you to do so. He can’t refuse me in public, it would be treasonable. He’d be guilty of the crime he’s sworn to protect me against, unless he has at his fingertips some proof of incompetence on my part,” K’hedduk said confidently. “He won’t find it as easy to argue his way out of that with me as he would with my brother!”

  “Doing that so publicly will start a war between you, Majesty, one you might not win. All he needs to do is accuse those closest to you of heresy, and you will be isolated and in his power.”

  K’hedduk stared at Zerdish for a long moment, then sighed. “Thank you for reminding me of that,” he said quietly. “I’ll have to plan this more carefully, protect those loyal to me before I can strike out at Ziosh.”

  “If I may suggest, Majesty, list exactly what his current duties are, and look at how you can reduce them by giving some of his many acquired functions back to those loyal to you. You can do this all in the name of giving Ziosh the time to spend on those tasks he is obligated to perform. That would be a good place to start,” said Zerdish carefully.

  “Indeed, it would. There should be a protocol list somewhere, of the court functionaries in my father’s time. I can see from that just where and how he’s built up his power base. Do you know of anyone to whom we could entrust this task? Someone who wouldn’t arouse suspicion? I’ve been gone too long from the Court to have gotten a proper feel for all the undercurrents yet.”

  “I know just the person. One of the scribes. Loyal to you, but ambitious. I’ve had a few dealings with him in the past.”

  “Very well. Tell him to research the various roles of Court officials in the last hundred years He’s doing this so I can put together a commemorative book I plan to write about my father.”