“Then you are who we believed you to be, Arjun, and will speak with you. What is your perception of the difficulties in accomplishing your goals?”
“They are great, as Bal-Shim is cautious and well-guarded. It will require skills beyond what I now possess.”
“There are many to whom we sell the results of our harvests and alchemy. Most who ask for them in fact to do not care, or think they already know how to use them. In truth, they may, or their purposes may be so crude that it does not matter. However, what you ask might well require such skills as we can teach. However, we do not do so lightly. At present, you are studying both arms and magic, yes?”
Arjun was taken aback. He was suddenly very glad indeed for the secrecy of the G’abudim, and that those who hunted him must not have spies of such skill in their service, or he would already be caught. He mastered himself, and replied.
“Yes.”
“Then you do not have the time or attention required for our teachings.”
“And once I have completed some aspect of my training?”
“Even then, we must come to trust you better.”
“I… to be certain my cause is as just as I say?”
“We do not care whether in the sense that your people see it, it is right and just, only that you believe so without reservation, or hesitation to act.”
“What can I do then?”
“Complete the training you are now under, and be free of any other masters, then come speak with us. And, know that we do nothing without price.”
“I have much gold, and will soon have more.”
“That may be, but we have ways enough to get gold. Our price will be in other form, and you will only know if you can pay such price when the time comes to visit us again.”
“I will be ready.”
“Perhaps. In the meantime, await word from Umrub, and do not come here again unless bidden.”
“I will do as you say,” said Arjun, and he departed, much disturbed.
11. The Tale of Hidden Things
Inina and Arjun sat together with Lurshiga in a corner of the common room in the House of Red. It was late at night and no one else was there. Arjun looked different, he had cut his hair shorter and had grown a beard, thick for one of his age, but still far too short to plait. Though he was no longer working as a smith, hard combat training was building well rounded strength to his body. Inina looked different in her own way. She was wearing kohl on her eyes and henna on her hands, and a few pieces of simple jewelry. For those who’d known the practical girl of the streets well, it was a startling change, and for some of those who hadn’t known her well might not recognize her now.
“These new taxes are going to be hard to pay,” muttered Lurshiga over a cup of spiced wine.
“Besides paying for the new city guardsmen roaming around, what are they going to do with it all?” said Inina.
“Perhaps they don’t expect people to be able to pay, and so they hope to drive them into slavery, or service to one of the great houses?” said Arjun, “I have heard Lady Mada dra Keshil has been adding to her collection of mines, and miners”
“Even so, there will be enough, like me, that can pay even if they hate it,” said Lurshiga, “and my guess is they are putting that money away for something. Considering the shake-ups and replacements in the council, it could be something big.”
“What about… Bal-Shim?” said Inina, her voice a hesitant whisper.
Arjun’s face hardened, anger in his eyes, “Two more bronze makers have failed, and after the city seized their operations, he turned up owning them.”
Inina took his hand, “Arjun, they’re starting to tighten the net, and sooner or later, we’re going to get caught. Are you sure you can trust those ex-servants of yours?”
“Not infinitely, but what choice do I have?”
“Maybe we should find out more on our own, while we can,” suggested Inina.
“I was thinking of raiding Bal-Shim again,” said Arjun.
“Why don’t we combine both goals then?” replied Inina.
“Speaking of the net tightening, why don’t both of you quiet down, and take this conversation to your room,” said Lurshiga, with finality.
~
Shirin sat at a tall chair carved with many signs, near the back of a stone room inlayed with thin geometrical shapes in gold, silver, and bronze. Braziers behind him on either side burned with cedar and incense. Around him a circle and many symbols in bright colors were inscribed on the floor. Outside of that circle stood Arjun.
“Tell me now, apprentice, of the seven falsehoods and the seven truths of magic,” he said.
“The first falsehood held by many is that magic requires a special gift to be worked, the first truth known by few is that anyone with sufficient will and wit may learn it, but that it is both difficult and dangerous.”
“The second falsehood held by many is that magic can foretell the future, the second truth known by few is that the future is a page not yet written, and magic can but read signs left by those who intended to use them to influence events.”
“The third falsehood held by many is that magic can read minds, the third truth known by few is that the mind is both a sanctuary and a prison, but that guessing the thoughts of another through external cues and behavior is a skill both magus and mundane alike may learn.
“The fourth falsehood held by many is that magic can control minds, the fourth truth known by few is that magic or any other means can only weaken the resistance of someone, but that the only minds that can be led are those who wish it.”
“The fifth falsehood held by many is that magic operates by illusion or belief, and that clear mind or true faith may protect one from its power, the fifth truth known by few is that magic may in some cases counter magic, but that what one creates or wields by magic is as real as what once carves or wields with one’s hands.
“The sixth falsehood held by many is that magic must call upon higher or lower powers for its strength, the sixth truth known by few is that magic comes from the very nature of the world, that they above and they below wield it by the same means as mortals of the middle realm, and that wielding magic is as draining as wielding one’s body.”
“The seventh falsehood held by many is that these falsehoods give their believers some insight to contend with the powers of magi, the seventh truth known by few is that the falsehoods give power and advantage only to those who also know the truth.”
Shirin watched his apprentice as he spoke, and when Arjun was done, he nodded, and then spoke again.
“Correct, apprentice, now repeat for me the three methods of opening one’s minds to magic, and the means for which each may be used…”
And on it went, through the six forms of magic; conjuration, abjuration, transmutation, detection, transportation, and illusion, the four elements of fire, air, water, and earth, the conjunctions of each, and the infusion of each with life or of death, which magi knew as the void. Finally he dealt with the ways in which magic could in practical ways be called or imbued, from the easiest and by far most common, potions and inscribed symbols, through the more difficult rituals using components and temporary symbols, and then spoken spells, which were more difficult still, to the most difficult of all, visualizing all that was needed, exactly, in one’s mind and using it to bring forth the magic by one’s will.
In every case, Arjun’s answer was studied and perfect.
Shirin, seated on his chair, calmly watched as Arjun spoke. When all was answered, he spoke in turn.
“Well done, apprentice. Now is the time of decision. It is customary for a master under such circumstances as this to deprecate the apprentice, pointing out any flaws however small, and enjoining them to apply themselves better to their studies. However, our time is short, and I must speak plainly about several matters.”
“The first is to address questions which might rightly be asked, though you yourself have never done so. You plan revenge upon your enemies a
nd the rescue of your father. Lord Kartam and I, men of power and wealth, have aided you in your goals. He and I see your foes as dangers to this city itself. Why then do we not act directly? As yet, the depth of our opposition is not known, and that gives us an advantage. Your foes and those who support them have great powers of their own, and will alas be ready to face us when the time comes.”
“You on the other hand, so far as I can see, are feared only by Bal-Shim, and seen as insignificant by the others. And in any case, your whereabouts and powers are unknown to them. These things give you an advantage. In addition, Kartam and I are both watched. You have come to my door at odd times and in many different guises, but even now some suspicion may well be growing as to who or what you are.”
“The second matter which must be addressed is your desire to rescue your father. Much as I would wish otherwise, I do not see how you will accomplish it. The citadel, and the tower in particular, are well guarded by both men and magic. If such as I were to attempt it, I might well break through the magical defenses, but the numerous men and their arms, and the magi in service of the city, would almost certainly be my undoing. For such as you, your only hope is in stealth. Even so, I predict ill results if you try. However, it is not my place to command you in this matter, and you must do as your conscience requires.”
“The third matter is of your training. I must admit that you have mastered in weeks what commonly requires months. I caution that you have not been subject to the long discipline of years which is the normal lot of an apprentice, and thereby are of greater danger to yourself. However, as I have said, the time is short, and I must trust in the discipline of your mind to hold where training is lacking. Again though I warn you that to step beyond what you have mastered in my presence and in the safeguards of this room is fearfully dangerous.”
“Now then Arjun my apprentice, you will spend your next three visits with me in study of tablets I have ready for you, discussing a great many applications already devised by magi under the laws of magic, without revealing how they may be done. You will read these tablets and find the handful of spells you think most needful for your tasks, then on the fourth visit you will discuss them with me and I will agree, or not, to train you on their making.”
“Yes master Shirin,” said Arjun with another bow.
~
It was late evening, and the noises of the city were beginning to quiet down. A breeze was blowing with promise of rain, and it was humid in Arjun and Inina’s room. They had been able to glean some information about Bal-Shim’s operations of late. Since their attack on his warehouse near the bazaar, he had become more cautious, consolidating as many goods as he could in the newly expanded compound of his home. However the sheer amount of goods he’d acquired looting two more bronze businesses and a half dozen smaller ones in other trades had forced him to keep using storage elsewhere. However, he had increased his guards, and according to rumor, was using magic wards on his doors.
They were dressed in plain practical street clothes, with a few tools strapped to belts and backs under their cloaks. Arjun opted to wear his sword, strapped flat to his back, and trusted again to the folds and hood of his cloak to conceal it. His bronze dagger, the one he’d made, with the thunderbolt striking a serpent, was at his belt, as small weapons were common enough.
“You know each time we go wandering the city with that sword, it is another chance someone will notice it,” said Inina.
“I know, but I’d much rather have it in a fight than a dagger alone,” said Arjun.
“That depends on how well you can use your dagger,” she said with a smile.
“I might not match you there yet, but I’m working on it,” he said, then grabbed her waist and pulled him to her with a kiss.
“Ready?” he said.
She nodded, and they set out for a warehouse in the mercantile district between the Street of the Fortune Tellers and the middle harbor. It was said that Bal-Shim had been visiting that particular warehouse frequently of late, and had once left with slaves carrying boxes of clay tablets. All went well as they crossed first the King’s Road, and then the Street of Fortune Tellers. It was busy now, catering to revelers with coin in their purses and wine in their bodies. The number of city guards had continued to increase, and patrols were everywhere. Something else was new; many of the patrols were accompanied by one or two civilians.
“I’ve never seen anything close to this many guards on the streets at night,” Inina whispered to Arjun, “even if there is a manhunt out for you, you can’t be THAT important to them, and it seems heavy even for some kind of crackdown on criminals in the city.”
He whispered in reply, “What if it isn’t a crackdown on criminals in the city so much as a crackdown on the people of the city as a whole?”
She clutched his hand.
“Arjun, those spotters and informers going around with the guard make me nervous. I mean, the guards always have had people like that, but usually guard informers keep a very low profile. Something is very, very wrong when they can walk around openly with patrols, pointing out whatever they don’t like.”
They were now passing through an area of merchant shops and warehouses. Most of them were related to the traffic from the harbor, but somewhere down here was that belonging to Bal-Shim. As they crossed a larger street, they heard a voice shout.
“That’s him! That’s Arjun son of Ashur!”
Inina by long experience, and Arjun by her training, began to pick up speed and headed toward the nearest cross street. Only once they were in motion did they look briefly over their shoulders. Behind them was a squad of twelve guards and a short, twitchy man Arjun recognized as one of his father’s old customers, a merchant whom Arjun’s father had once trusted and allowed to buy on account. He’d run into some kind of trouble and only grudgingly managed to repay his debt over more than two years. Arjun had thought the man was lucky his father didn’t believe in slavery, or he could have been sold as a slave to make good that debt much sooner. It seemed this was how he repaid the kindness.
They darted into a side street, which turned out to make complicated twists and turns as it wound deep into a block of buildings. In the center was a small courtyard around a well. From it ran two other small alleys. Arjun pulled his dagger and flipped it around so that the blade was hidden against his forearm. Behind them they heard clatter of metal, and the guards yelling at them to stop for questioning. They chose the alley on the left and went running as fast as they could go.
However, coming down the alley from the other end were a pair of the guards.
“Boy! Stop you! We’ve got questions!” they shouted, but they had swords drawn.
Images flashed through Arjun’s mind of the city guards in his father’s house, of Keda’s screams, of poor Naram-Enki dying in his own blood, and of Eb-Sim, whose death cries he’d heard as he fled.
Hate and rage filled his heart.
Without a word, Arjun ducked low, coming on at full speed as the surprised guards came to a clattering stop and raised their swords. The guards were used to many situations, but having a seemingly unarmed man charge them head on was not among them. He used his momentum to slam the guard on the right into the wall as he whipped his dagger around, dodged the guard’s sword, and then drove the blade up through the other’s waist and vitals from below. In an instant, Arjun withdrew it and spun around to deflect the stabbing strike of the second guard.
Inina, momentarily ignored, darted forward and thrust her dagger into second guard’s throat. He twisted around in agony and surprise, snapping the obsidian-edged blade, but opening his own horrible wound even further. He tried to raise his sword at Inina, but fell dying instead. Arjun turned to the first guard, who was groaning in pain, but recovered his sword, and was slowly inching his way up the wall by his back. Arjun brought his dagger point down in the gap in the guard’s armor where his neck met his shoulder, and drove it deep with his weight from above. The man died without another sound.
~
Naram dra Zash-Ulshad sat in his darkened private chambers, marble and precious stones paneled the walls, carpets lay on the floor, and incense burned in a large brazier behind him. He was pondering the tools at his disposal.
Ayab iru Heb was perhaps the least dangerous of them, which was ironic given the fear in which slavers were held. The man had built a highly useful empire of allies, spies, and servants across the Hayyidi lands, from Ayad and Eladi in the north to Ul-Nim in the empire of Sarsa. Many an indebted peasant, many a poor girl of the streets, many a nomad or hill tribesmen of the interior had fallen into the nets of his men. But Ayab wanted no more than wealth made in that manner, and the power to continue doing so. Moreover, he had no heir, and if, or rather when, he died, his empire would, if it could be prevented from collapse, fall into Naram’s own hands.
Mada dra Keshil dealt with all things with a strong hand, and was of all of them the best at organizing and marshaling the power they were gathering to themselves. He reflected also that she would never accept open rule by him, and her pride had necessitated pretenses of equality among their circle. She was cunning, alert, and ruthless, but she was very old, and her daughter was more tractable. He could wait for the passage of time.
Shalmansar, high priest of Ur-Laggu was another matter. The fanatic priest might live many years, and he was anything but tractable. However, his powers and support were essential, and his goals, for a long time, would align with Naram’s own. In the end though, Shalmansar’s vision of a theocracy ruled by the mouthpieces of the gods, men such as him, could not be allowed to come to pass. Naram thought the man’s larger ideas, implying a new war of the gods and the end of the age, were implausible, but he was taking no chances. Naram had uncovered many secrets that others thought well hidden, and one of them was that the inner doctrine of Ur-Laggu, as held by the grand priests at Har, was not in accordance with Shalmansar’s ideas. Zakran’s high priest had far exceeded his authority, and revealing that fact at the right time to the right people would bring about his swift, and most unpleasant, demise.
Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) Page 10