"Aye, young master, it's called 'Birdsong.'"
Behind him Thru heard the receding footsteps of the men. He took a step forward and peered at the finished part of the rug, an interesting geometric pattern of colors ranging from deep red through orange to ocher and dusky yellow. But it was the process that really drew his eye. The looms, with heddle and shedding rods, were the same used in the Land. The sight of these looms filled him with amazement, and then sorrow for the work he had been forced to abandon.
Janbur patted the weaver's shoulder.
"I know that my mother is looking forward to seeing this carpet when it is done."
"Oh, that means so much to an old weaver. Thank you, young master Janbur."
Old Meethiwat went back to his work without appearing to notice Thru's existence. More footsteps went past outside in the hallway and diminished in the opposite direction.
Now Janbur put his head out, listened carefully, and signaled Thru to follow while closing the door quietly behind them. They hurried down the passage to the butler's door. The skeleton key went in without difficulty, but it would not turn easily. Janbur struggled.
Now they heard a door slam and footsteps in the hallway.
Janbur tried to force the key, but it would not budge.
"Let me try," whispered Thru.
Janbur hesitated for a moment then took his hands off the key. Thru took hold, tried the lock, pulled the key back a little, and tried again.
The footsteps were almost on them.
The lock turned, the door opened, Janbur pushed him inside, and they almost fell over in the entrance. Janbur whirled around, closed the door, and leaned against it while sweat ran from his brow.
They heard footsteps pass the door and recede into the distance.
"That was too close, my friend," said Janbur in a whisper.
They were in a small, dark hallway. Two more doors lay before them. They tried one, it opened after a struggle, but the passage beyond was blocked with sacks of roots. The other door opened onto a room where cooking oils were stored. Moving very quietly, they reached the stair leading down to the wine cellar. The door opened more easily to the keys, and they were safe once more.
"What do you mean when you say 'the Hidden One'?"
Janbur hesitated again before speaking, and then whispered.
"It is not known what it is, but 'tis said there lies a shadow on the pyramid, and a fell demon from ancient times dwells there unseen."
Thru recounted what he had seen inside the pyramid. The room full of Gold Tops, the sudden hush, and the opened door above. The solitary figure hidden in the shadows.
Janbur was awed.
"Long have we suspected something like this. The Gold Tops keep this secret from the world, but from what you say, this being rules them from its hiding place!"
"And the ordinary people do not know?"
"It is no more than legend. And I think what you saw shows that this is the force behind the war against your people. I think it began in Norgeeben's time, a hundred years ago."
"How could it have happened?" Thru wondered how this calamity had occurred without anyone in the land ever knowing.
"I have heard it said that a ship called the Goodventure returned with claims of finding a lush land on the far side of the great ocean. The crew died on the altars for blasphemy, and the ship was broken up. The whole story was suppressed, but not completely."
Thru nodded to himself. A ship had scouted the Land and not been seen. It could happen. The men were great sailors, and their ships were far superior to those of the mots. But he also knew something else. This being in the pyramid was known to the Assenzi. They had mentioned some hidden hand behind the war. Utnapishtim had a name for it, but Thru had forgotten what it was. This was the being that the Assenzi had fashioned their message for.
Had he not received it yet?
Janbur clapped him on the shoulder.
"My friend, you have brought us great news. If you will repeat what you have told me, then it could help our cause enormously."
"I would be glad to."
"Good, then I will gather a group of influential men to hear you speak of this being in the pyramid."
They entered the cellar to join the other mots. Thru recounted what he'd seen in the upper house and the conversation with the Lady Tekwen.
Rueful chuckles erupted from some of them when he described the lady's insulting words.
"But she apologized. That shows they can learn," said Ter-Saab with a sardonic grin.
CHAPTER THIRTY
"Thank you, my dear," said the Emperor as the lesson came to an end. "I think I have a better idea now of these irregular verbs."
"If you remember that the 'dolo' suffix often changes to the 'lolo' suffix in the plurals, then you'll usually be safe."
"Indeed! Tricky those little endings, eh? I wonder if I'll ever be good enough to speak it."
"Oh, yes, I think you will. You have worked very hard, Your Majesty. I can see how it is when you make an effort. Your intensity is tremendous, even frightening."
He smiled. "If they came from anyone else, I would take such words as flattery and be offended, but with you, my dear, I know they are meant sincerely."
He had encouraged her, from the beginning, to be open and frank with him in all things.
"No deceits with me, dear, d'you understand? You do not serve me by lying to me."
She had taken him at his word, and they had become good friends.
"I am having a small meal of figs and cheese. Would you like to join me?"
As always he held to the smallest courtesies. He was like this with his guards, with soldiers, with everyone, even his enemies. No wonder so many would willingly die for him.
"I would be honored, Your Majesty."
"Yes, yes, but are you hungry? Would you like something more substantial?"
"Oh, no, Your Majesty, whatever you are having will be more than adequate."
The small eunuch, who served as Aeswiren's personal slave, brought in a tray of figs, cheese, flat bread, olive oil, sesame paste, and a pitcher of weak beer.
While they ate they discussed Filek's plans.
"This 'micro-scope' that your father is working on has tremendous potential. He sent me a copy of the plans, and I studied them last night. Wonderful work, I am more convinced than ever that I did the right thing by sending him back to the hospital."
"My father is absolutely in love with his work. It is all that he has dreamed of. He prays for your health every morning, Your Majesty."
"That is good of him. Well, he has already gone far beyond what I might have expected. Apparently this microscope is a success. He sees a world at the level of the very, very small, which he says is far more complicated than anything he had ever imagined."
"Oh, Your Majesty, he came home a week ago singing about the 'small seed' that he has imagined as the source of infection. He had finally seen them. I have seen them. It is a wonderful sight."
"Good, I had hoped for this. Tell me more. I have arranged for a demonstration of the device, but it will not be until tomorrow. I have unavoidable engagements until then."
"The tube is as thick as this," she held up her finger and thumb an inch apart. "And it is a foot long, and held in place in a kind of cradle. A sliver of glass is set at the bottom, on which he places a drop of dirty water. A lantern's light is directed under the glass by use of a mirror, and it illuminates the drop of water."
"Mmmm, yes, yes, I see. Go on."
"Then you place your eye to the top of the tube and look down it. The lenses inside the tube magnify the drop of water enormously."
"Ah, yes, exactly as I'd imagined from the drawings he sent."
"And in the water are all these things, well, they must be little animals. They spin and writhe and eat each other, and yet they are invisible unless you look through the lenses in the tube."
"Wonderful. You see, my dear, I was right. Your father is a genius."
Simona did not disag
ree.
"And now he wants to expand the hospital and open a new building devoted entirely to research."
"Oh, my father's plans grow quite giddy. He wants to examine every plant, every kind of fruit and insect, and see if they contain substances that might be useful for healing."
"A visionary, no doubt of it, but of course, it is expensive. The hospital sits in the middle of the Old City. Everyone has claims to every scrap of ground around it." Aeswiren sighed, they would need forty thousand pieces at least, and he would have a battle squeezing it out of next year's budget. Especially now that a dozen new ships were to be built and sent to reinforce the colony expedition.
And that was another problem that Aeswiren intended to tackle very shortly, but he knew he must move carefully. He would have to show the message to the Old One soon, and he knew it would displease him. Emperors who ignored the Old One's wishes had a way of dying suddenly, of inexplicable causes.
"But we will find the money, from somewhere. I have in mind some demonstrations of your father's micro-scope. Perhaps some of the wealthy merchants will show a little foresight and invest in our project."
Simona nodded enthusiastically, seeing the sense of this idea.
The figs were gone. The Emperor poured more tea and settled back in his chair. Simona noted again that despite his advanced years Aeswiren had kept his shape. He lived simply and drank little wine.
"And now, my dear, tell me of yourself. Have you thought again of what you wish to do?"
Simona bit her lip. Previously she had told him everything about her life while he listened patiently. He knew of the witch mark on her left breast that would forever keep her from a good marriage, and he had expressed his sympathy for her situation.
"I think I could best serve by writing of my father's work and publishing the accounts. That will spread his ideas across the whole Empire."
"That is an excellent idea. I had already thought to offer you a position as my scribe. I want you to write a detailed account of the Land and all its peoples."
"Oh, Your Majesty, I would love to do that."
"Good. You shall. I can set aside 600 pieces for the work, enough to see you comfortably set up in your own household. Then your father can stop harassing you with his dreams of dynastic developments."
Aeswiren was smiling, but Simona had tears running down her cheeks. The Emperor's generosity eliminated her need to constantly fend off her father's attempts to marry her to some wealthy old man. She would have her own earnings, and therefore be able to set up her own household.
"How can I thank you, Your Majesty?"
"You can thank me by writing as well as you are capable, understand?"
He allowed her to kiss his ring and then poured them both more tea.
"Now, to the matter of the captive mots."
"Oh, yes, Your Majesty. What news do we have of them?"
"Nothing. Which surprises me a little. I have my sources in the pyramid, but they say they hear nothing on this subject. Although the priests are looking high and low for a subversive preacher, or so they say."
"What could it mean? Your Majesty?"
"It could mean several things. My sources inside the priesthood are limited, you understand. Not even the Emperor can overrule the temple. It may simply be that the mots are dead and all the fuss is devoted to covering this up. The priests are a cruel lot, they may not have restrained themselves during the torture. If they are dead, then the pyramid will be embarrassed on the day of their sacrifice, for they will not have hearts to give to the Great God."
Simona made a face. Between them there were no secrets. Both despised the cult of Orbazt Subuus, He Who Eats.
"On the other hand, it could be very good news. It may be that they have been rescued."
"But how? By whom?"
"That is the mystery of the moment. Believe me when I tell you that my operatives are working very hard on that subject right now."
Simona nodded, she could just imagine. Visiting with the Emperor in private, teaching him another language, she had glimpsed some of the workings of his realm and she understood that as Master of the Hand of Aeswiren, he was a different person from the gentle grey grizzled man she dealt with.
"May I tell Nuza of this?"
"You may. And I hope I will be able to tell her myself, very soon. Well"—he grinned faintly—"I will try and tell her myself. I think you will have to be on hand during my first attempts."
"Nuza has said that she would like to meet you in person. She has performed for you so many times and yet only glimpsed your silhouette in the gallery above."
"Well, I want to make a good impression when we meet."
Simona smiled now. Aeswiren's constant wry self-deprecation was so at odds with the official face of the Emperor that it still amazed her sometimes.
"Nuza has also said that she will try and learn some Shashti soon. When I told her how well you were doing at learning the language of the Land, she changed her mind about things. She wants to understand us better."
"Ah, well, she will have her work cut out for her there, because we don't understand ourselves very well and we've been at it for thousands of years."
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
A dozen men from the noblest families of Shasht were present in the gloomy space for the most extraordinary meeting they had ever attended. Crammed at the back of the Blanteer family mortuary and sworn to secrecy by Janbur Gsekk, they stared at the slim figure they had come to meet.
Naked to the waist, the figure stood before them, exhibiting soft fur from skull to navel, except for a small region around the mouth, nose, and eyes. It was an astonishing mixture for the nobles to absorb—soft grey fur and huge white eyebrows, a muscular body and a quiet voice speaking good Shashti!
"My name is Thru Gillo. I come from a land on the other side of the world. I was brought here as a captive. I come to you for your help in stopping a grave injustice."
Their jaws dropped at the sound of Shashti from the creature's mouth. The Erv of Dinak had slipped off the stone he'd been sitting on and landed on his behind with a thump and a cry.
"I have fought the army of Shasht many times. I have seen the men of Shasht defeated in battle, and I have seen them victorious. I saw this at the battle of Dronned, where we slew more than a thousand men. I saw the men beaten again at the Sow's Head Hill. We made them run that day, although it was a close thing. The men have taught us well. Now we, too, can make war."
The nobles simply stared at him. All of this had been kept secret. What battles had been lost? Until the frigate Cloud arrived back with the first load of captives, there had been little news about the expedition since the day, years before, when the great fleet had sailed away from Shasht.
"Your priests declare my people are an 'abomination.' They say we must be destroyed. They say that we are no more than animals and that we are incapable of speech. They say that only men, your kind, is given the benediction of the heavens. Only your kind are loved by your God. As you can tell, your priests are wrong about one thing at least. I speak your language. If we had the time, I would try and teach you mine."
He paused. The nobles stirred after a moment.
"Upon my soul, the creature speaks very well!" murmured Rotty Uspich.
"Extraordinary. For a moment I thought it was a trained animal. But it isn't?" The Baron of Chelo was struggling to accept what he'd just heard.
"Whoever would've dreamed this was possible," said someone else.
"Well, I don't see how the priests can justify what they've been saying. They're clearly lying about these, uh, people."
"Are you sure they're people? I mean..."
Janbur stood and raised his hands. "My friends, let our visitor speak. You will learn everything you need to know. The most important truth is that the priests have lied outright about many things."
With some nervous snorts and grimaces, the nobles resumed their earlier attitudes.
Janbur turned to Thru. Now for the sec
ond revelation.
"My friend, we will return to the question of your people's identity in a moment. But I wonder if you would tell the assembled company what you saw inside the pyramid of the Great God."
Thru described the scene: he and the other mots brought into the great hall by the Gold Tops, then the gong and the appearance of the mysterious figure in the high box.
"Did you see his face?" said the Erv of Blanteer when he had finished.
"No. It was hidden in shadow."
The nobles looked to one another. So it had been described before. " 'Tis the Hidden One," muttered the Erv of Dinak.
"The shadow lies across the pyramid," said Kelim Meliba. "We must trust in Aeswiren. He is our champion."
"Indeed," Janbur was up, addressing them all. "The Emperor hates the priests. Once he knows what we know, he will withdraw his backing from the colony expedition. He will seek peace with the mots of the Land."
"But what of the Hidden One? If it is true that he exists in the temple, then he is the real ruler. How many times have Emperors died suddenly? Or been deposed in mysterious circumstances. How much power does Aeswiren really have?"
"They are all dead, those who disparaged Aeswiren the Third."
"Aye, a mighty man is Aeswiren," said Krito of the Aveniba. "But also a clever one. He will find a way."
"So the priests have lied to us for centuries," grumbled the Erv of Dinak.
"The sodomistic priests are controlled by this thing, this struldbug that we harbor in the temple," said Janbur with some heat.
"Brave words, my friends," said Kelim. "But caution must be our guardian in these circumstances."
Everyone nodded.
Janbur raised his hands again to gain everybody's attention.
"I think we are all loyal men to Aeswiren. I would give my life for the Emperor gladly. He has brought peace and prosperity to the Empire for twenty years or more. But we know that there is something rotten in the heart of the pyramid. Long has it been suspected. Long have there been rumors, but the Gold Tops never speak and so the secret was kept.
"Now we know. Now we must find a way of helping the Emperor."
The Shasht War Page 23