Guardians Watch

by Eric T Knight

  He dropped the sand on the floor. What difference did it make anyway? If he didn’t find an antidote to the venom soon he was going to be trapped there. One of these times he was going to be too slow.

  He left the palace, thinking that he needed to talk to Rome. The macht wasn’t out in the exercise yard, so he went into the stables. The stablemaster and a handful of grooms were gathered around a horse they had down on the ground, its legs hobbled together so it couldn’t get up. He walked over to them.

  “Have any of you seen the macht recently?” he asked.

  The stablemaster barely glanced at him, then turned his attention back to the horse. He was kneeling by the horse’s front legs, a slender knife in his hand. There was a big swelling low down on the horse’s leg. “No, sir,” he said. “I will send someone to look for him if you want, but first we need to take care of this horse. If I don’t get that snake venom out right now, the animal will die.” So saying he made a quick cross cut on the animal’s leg. “Hold him steady,” he told the others, then he bent, sucked at the wound, spit on the ground, and repeated the action.

  Quyloc turned away and left the stables.

  Twenty

  Rome opened the door to the library and went in. He’d never actually been in the library before. The first thing he noticed was the wall that had been recently torn out. He looked through the opening and saw that the room beyond had been emptied of furniture and new shelves were being built. He didn’t see Perganon anywhere. That struck Rome as odd. Where else would the librarian be, but in the library? In Rome’s mind the man lived here, holed up with his books, maybe coming out after dark when everyone else was asleep.

  He realized that there was a doorway in the back corner of the room that he hadn’t seen at first. Through it was a second room, as full of books as the first one had been. Since there were no windows in the room it was pretty dark. He peered into the gloom. It looked like there was yet another doorway on the far wall. Curious, he crossed the room.

  Just as he got there he saw Perganon backing out of the doorway, his arms loaded with books. He seemed to be talking to himself.

  “Need a hand with those?” Rome asked in his normal voice, which could mildly be called booming and would have been almost yelling for most people.

  Perganon jumped and gave a strangled cry. The tower of books started to topple and he backpedaled, trying to keep them from falling. Rome had to grab him to keep him from falling on his back. The books crashed to the floor.

  “Why in Bereth’s nine hells would you sneak up on a man like that?” Perganon yelled, thrashing in Rome’s grip. “Were you born a lout or did it take practice?”

  Rome started laughing and set Perganon back on his feet. Perganon whirled on him, his eyes flashing, ready to curse some more. He was a small man, with yellow whiskers turning to white and gnarled hands that seemed too big for his frame. Then he adjusted his spectacles and saw who it was. The color drained from his face and he started apologizing.

  “Humblest apologies, Macht. I thought it was that servant boy with the crooked eye. He likes to sneak up on me. I am terribly sorry. I never dreamed—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Rome said, still chuckling. “You didn’t know it was me.” He bent to pick up one of the books.

  “Leave those, Macht. I will pick them up later.”

  “Okay.” Rome dropped the book back on the floor. “What’s with the secret room?” He took a step toward the doorway.

  “Nothing,” Perganon said hurriedly, moving to get to the door first and swinging it shut. The door was faced with book-covered shelves and was nearly invisible when closed. “Just a place to keep the books that won’t fit in the other rooms.”

  “You sneaky devil,” Rome said, examining the door. “It is a secret room. How did you ever pull that off?”

  “Oh, it was long ago. Some reconstruction was going on in this part of the palace. Somehow the plans were misplaced. Things were very hectic, what with the overseer on the project taking ill and having to be replaced by someone unfamiliar with the work already done. Then the plans reappeared and they may have been different from the original ones in some small ways that no one really noticed. Except for a young man whose uncle was a close friend of mine.”

  Rome shook his head. “I think you just told me this secret room is here because of you, but I’m not sure how you managed to pull it off. Can’t say I’m surprised though.” And he really wasn’t. He hadn’t known Perganon that long, but he’d spent enough time around the man to really respect his intelligence and cunning. Perganon had survived, and thrived, in a palace full of plots and machinations for almost two decades under the old king Rix. Anyone who could do that had his respect. He had also proven himself invaluable to Rome more than once with the wealth of information he had accumulated about the kingdoms near and far, everything from the number of soldiers each could field to how good their crops were this year.

  “You sent word that you needed to speak with me right away?” Rome asked.

  “I did, but Macht, you should not have come here. I would have been at your command. It is only seemly.”

  Rome shrugged. “I needed to move around. Too much time sitting on my backside was making me stiff. Besides, it gave me a chance to sneak up on you.” He chuckled again.

  “As you wish, Macht. Shall we go into the outer room and sit down?”

  “Lead on.” After taking one last look at the hidden door, Rome followed him to the next room. Perganon went to the desk and took a sheet of parchment out of a drawer. Then he went to a chair and sat down. Rome pulled up the other chair. There was a time when the old man would have remained standing, waiting for Rome to tell him he could sit, but Rome had told him plainly he didn’t want that kind of subservience from him.

  “I have received another report from Fanethrin.” Perganon paused and it seemed the lines in his face deepened. All at once he looked much older. “I fear it is the last one.”

  Rome leaned forward, his hands on his knees, his attention fixed on the old man.

  “My contact has fled Fanethrin and is in Karthije now, recovering from serious injuries. He says he barely escaped. There is a narrow pass called Guardians Watch between the Landsend Plateau and a high ridge that runs north from the Firkath Mountains. It was still open when he went through, but once Kasai’s men seal that off, there won’t be any way through there.”

  He paused while Rome digested this.

  “Kasai has been busy. His blinded ones have conscripted thousands. He now controls everything to the west of the Firkath Mountains, from Fanethrin in the north, to the ruins of Ankha del’Ath.”

  “Ankha del’Ath? Isn’t that the old city where the Takare used to live?”

  “It is.”

  “Too bad the place isn’t still full of Takare. Kasai would have a lot fewer men to trouble us with.”

  “They would be helpful,” Perganon agreed. He took off his glasses. “Do you mind if I have a drink?”

  Rome snorted. “Surely not. Pour me one while you’re at it.”

  Perganon went to a shelf and removed a couple of books. From the back of the shelf he pulled out a dusty bottle of yellow liquor and two glasses. Carrying it back to the table, he poured two stout quantities of the liquor into glasses. Rome sniffed his and took a sip. It smelled a little bit like sage with some other, unidentifiable odor. To his surprise, Perganon downed his in one pull. The old man sat back and fixed a glum look on Rome.

  “His army is coming.”

  Rome sat forward, the liquor sloshing over his hand unnoticed. “How long until they get here?”

  Perganon consulted the letter, silently reading to himself. He closed his eyes for a few moments. “My contact was in Fanethrin’s army for many years and achieved some rank there.” Never once had Perganon identified a contact by name, and it seemed he was not about to begin now. “He says the order came in to mobilize the army, but they still needed time. He estimated that they would need four weeks st
ill before they could march, but that was about three weeks ago. My best guess is that Kasai will be moving in a week at most. After that…” He shrugged. “It depends on how much of a hurry they are in.”

  “This source is reliable?” Rome asked.

  Perganon looked up, his spectacles resting on his nose. “Absolutely.”

  “Then we have a lot of work to do.” Rome drained his glass and set it on the table, his head already full of plans. The south wall repairs needed to be hurried up. The weapon smiths needed to turn out a great deal more weapons and armor; many of the new soldiers from the conquered kingdoms were poorly equipped. There was still work to be done training the new recruits.

  “A suggestion if I may, Macht?”

  Rome turned back.

  “If you could reach Guardians Watch first…”

  For a moment Rome didn’t understand what the old man was saying, then it hit him. “Where the mountains and the Plateau come together. Your man said it was narrow.”

  “It would be a strong position.” Perganon spent a couple of minutes filling him in on what he knew about it.

  Rome smiled grimly when he was done. “That sounds like a really strong position.”

  “If you get there fast enough.”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

  After Rome left, Perganon went to the shelves and looked through the books until he found the one he was looking for, a thick volume of legends and ancient tales. He removed it and took it to one of the tables, where he began to flip through the pages. He found the entry he was looking for, adjusted his spectacles and started to read.

  Fearing the wrath of Melekath after the Banishment, the gods began to disappear. Tu Sinar fled to the Landsend Plateau. The people who lived there were forced to flee or were killed, for Tu Sinar would suffer no humans in his realm, blaming them for the War of the Eight.

  In time a group of Tu Sinar’s followers made their way to the Plateau and pled with the god for the chance to serve him. Grudgingly, Tu Sinar allowed this, but forbade them to set foot on the Plateau itself. They were given the task of watching for Melekath’s return. Most of all, they were to watch for the Guardians, for when they were able to leave the Gur al Krin, where they had been trapped since the Banishment, Tu Sinar would know that Melekath’s time was close.

  These followers built a fortress on the southern edge of the Plateau, in the pass between the Plateau and the Firkath Mountains. It was a mighty edifice of stone, for in them lay some of Tu Sinar’s power to Shape the stone. There they kept their watch for the Guardians for centuries.

  But in time, Tu Sinar began to distrust his followers, and accused them of betraying him to Melekath. So it was that Tu Sinar brought down his fist on the edge of the Plateau and a massive piece of the cliff fell, crushing most of the fortress and killing his followers. Only one tower, on the southern edge of the pass, survived. The place became known as Guardians Watch, a grim reminder of the vagaries of the gods.

  Perganon closed the book and poured himself some more of the liquor.

  After leaving Perganon, Rome grabbed the first servant he saw and sent him running out to the barracks. A few minutes later a soldier left the palace on horseback, riding hard for the city’s main gates, beyond which could be seen the dust rising from the new troops Tairus was drilling. Rome went to Quyloc’s office and found him at his desk, staring blankly at a parchment, the spear gripped in one hand. He looked up when Rome entered.

  “Gods, Quyloc, you look terrible,” Rome said. Quyloc looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. There were new lines in his face and dark circles under his eyes.

  “I feel terrible.”

  “Still haven’t figured out how to get rid of the hallucinations?”

  “They’re not hallucinations,” Quyloc said irritably. “They’re real.”

  Rome gave him a skeptical look. He’d heard some disturbing stories about Quyloc’s behavior lately, shouting at nothing, swinging his spear at enemies only he could see. He’d nearly stabbed one of the servants with the spear.

  “Are you sure?” When Rome said the words, Quyloc’s head snapped up and there was rage in his eyes. Before he could respond, Rome spoke again. “Take it easy. I’m not calling you a liar—”

  “No, you’re calling me crazy.” Quyloc was on his feet now, the spear held in both hands across his chest. Rome took a step back.

  “I didn’t say you’re crazy.”

  “No, but that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “So you can hear my thoughts now?”

  “I don’t have to. It’s written on your face,” Quyloc said bitterly. “You’ve heard that I’ve been acting strangely and so you just assumed…”

  “Look at it from my side, Quyloc. You tell me you had this dream and in the dream something stung you. But you’ve got no mark on you. Then you say something is dragging you into this weird place—”

  “It’s the hunter that’s doing it. I know it.”

  “But every time you say it happens you’re still here. People can see you.”

  “So the only conclusion is that I’m crazy.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I think going to that place has affected you. I think you’ve been through things that no one else can imagine. I think Lowellin has had something to do with this.”

  “I’m glad you have it all figured out so neatly,” Quyloc said. The sudden anger drained from him and he dropped back into his chair. “Now it gets easier, what I have to do next.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rome asked, suddenly wary. He’d never heard Quyloc sound like this before, so bleak and doomed.

  “I quit. You don’t need me as your advisor anymore so I quit.”

  “Now you do sound crazy. You can’t quit. I need you.”

  “You’re the crazy one. Only a crazy person would want an advisor that he thought was crazy.”

  “I don’t think you’re crazy.”

  “No, you just think I can’t tell hallucinations from reality.”

  He had Rome boxed in. He didn’t know how to counter him. So he said the first thing that came to mind: “Don’t quit. I can’t do this without you.”

  Quyloc looked up, his eyes haunted. “You don’t get it, do you? I am having trouble telling hallucinations from reality. I’ve been dragged into that place so many times and it’s been so long since I had any real sleep that I no longer know what day it is. I don’t know what I was doing before you got here. I could be imagining all this right now.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “It’s worse. I don’t know what I might do. Don’t you see? I need to quit my position before I do real harm. I need to go away by myself and see if I can figure this out.”

  “You’re talking about leaving?”

  Quyloc nodded. “Tonight or tomorrow morning at the latest.”

  “Where will you go?”

  Quyloc lowered his head and his next words were so soft Rome could barely hear them. “It doesn’t matter.”

  A sudden, sick thought occurred to Rome. “You’re going to kill yourself, aren’t you?” When Quyloc didn’t deny it he knew it was true. “Gods, Quyloc, it can’t be that bad!”

  “You really don’t get it. I meant what I said about doing harm. I wasn’t talking about accidentally killing someone with my spear. I’m talking about harming everyone.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The gromdin wants me. Lowellin thinks if it traps me, it might be able to keep me alive long enough, draw enough Song through me, that it can shred the Veil once and for all. If that happens, that whole world gets into our own. Whatever happens then is going to be very bad.”

  “You don’t know that for sure. Lowellin might have some reason for saying that—”

  “I can’t afford to take that chance. If I can’t figure this out soon, I have to kill myself. It’s the only way.”

  “I won’t let you do
it. I’ll keep—”

  “What would you do?” Rome broke off and stared at him, confused. “If you believed there was even a chance that your enemy could use you to kill everyone, what would you do?”

  “I’d…”

  “Exactly. You’d sacrifice yourself in a second. It’s who you are.”

  “This is different,” Rome said, but his words lacked conviction.

  “You can’t stop me, Rome.” He shifted his grip on the spear and now the cutting edge of the tooth was at his own throat. “It would take only a moment. Even if you took away my spear you’d just be leaving me helpless and the gromdin would win.”

  “There has to be a way,” Rome said.

  “I haven’t given up yet,” Quyloc replied. “I may still think of something.”

  He seemed calmer now, resigned, but that just made Rome more worried. What was happening? Was it already too late?

  “Why’d you come here?” Quyloc asked.

  “What?” Rome asked stupidly, still lost in his thoughts.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came because we need to meet. Tairus is on his way to the tower room. I want you there too.”

  “Why?”

  Rome told him what Perganon had said. “We need to decide what to do.”

  “No we don’t. You’ve already decided. You just want us to tell you it’s a good idea.”

  “You don’t know that.’

  “Rome, I know you. You are impatient. You hate sitting and waiting for your enemy to come to you. You want to take the battle to Kasai. It is at once your greatest strength…and your greatest weakness.”

  “Where’s Quyloc?”

  “He’s not coming.”

  “Is he sick?”

  “Maybe. You’ve heard how he’s been acting?” Tairus nodded. Rome filled him in on what Quyloc had said was happening to him.