It was a long day, and she slept for part of it, but with the light fading behind them, she glimpsed the north wing of the house through the trees. Her heart soared. Here was sanctuary, here she could at last feel like herself again.
The carriage clopped up the driveway toward the west-facing main facade of the house. The pale orange walls, topped by red tile work, brought back wonderful memories.
She heard the slaves knocking on the carriage door, and she drew back the bolts.
Shalee was there, his narrow face split by a huge smile.
"Welcome, Mistress Simona, welcome back to Shesh Zob."
CHAPTER FORTY
The hour before cocks crow, the great city was asleep. Scarcely a light showed at this hour, except at the palace. There, within the very heart of the Empire, panic ruled.
The Emperor's throne had suddenly begun to wobble. The priests had spoken against Aeswiren, so it was said. Armed guards stood alert at every doorway. Men with lamps searched the passageways and halls for assassins.
The day before had been the festival of the Blood of Bulls. At the great sacrifice of the white bull, a strange travesty had occurred that set every tongue to wagging. When the Red Tops pried open the chest of the bull to release the Nymph of the New Blood, they found an old hag, toothless, one eye missing, instead of the lovely young girl that was expected. The ceremony had ended abruptly.
Then had come the more telling blow, at least as far as Aeswiren was concerned. Before the old hag could be questioned, she was killed, in mysterious circumstances while within the protection of the Hand. Her body showed no marks.
We had her, and yet she was killed? This spoke of a penetration of the Hand.
Aeswiren was pressing very hard for answers. He had demanded that the temple hand over the priests responsible for organizing the ceremony of the Blood of Bulls. Aeswiren knew perfectly well that the "nymph" did not come from the innards of the bull, but was introduced in a skillful maneuver when the Red Tops tore the bull apart with crowbars. The temple had refused to hand over the priests to the Hand. They claimed that important spiritual matters were at stake. The Great God had obviously expressed his displeasure about something, and the priests had to decide what it was. Something had gone awry within the very heart of the empire, that was the only possible explanation.
This was dangerously close to a treasonous statement. When the priests spoke out against Emperors in the past, those Emperors fell. Perhaps not immediately, but soon the authority of the Emperor would weaken if the priesthood of the Great God turned against him. It had happened many times.
And even more important than this looming problem was the mysterious disappearance of Hesh, the First Finger of the Hand. Hesh was a closely guarded individual, but his guards had been slain outside his door and Hesh was missing. No trace had been found in two days' frantic search of the city.
Aeswiren had been Emperor for twenty-three years. He had come up the hard way. He knew to keep his own counsel in a time like this. No one could be trusted, although he would have to rely on the officers of the Hand. Hesh's deputies knew too much not to be involved in his efforts to turn the situation around.
One thing he was certain of, all this trouble came from the Old One. All due to Aeswiren's refusal to hand Nuza over to the knife.
At the thought of the Old One, Aeswiren's lip curled into an involuntary snarl. Aeswiren had his sword on his hip now, with helmet and chain mail, too. The Old One had ruled a long time, removing weak Emperors when necessary. Aeswiren would show him that he was made of different material. Nuza was safe and would stay hidden. Unless they could rip it from his own lips, they would not find her.
But Hesh's disappearance was about more than Nuza. For Aeswiren had been working along the same lines as the Old One, only his trap was planned to shut in three more days. A picked force of five hundred men waited for the order, then they were to clean out the temple. All the Gold Tops were to lose their heads, and the Old One was to be eradicated. His remains were to be burned in a large, hot fire, just to be sure they could never be resurrected.
But the enemy had moved first. Possibly the enemy had known of his plans. A chilling thought, because it meant the organization he had built, with the help of Hesh, had been penetrated. How much did his enemy know? Where was Hesh?
Aeswiren had reviewed the structure of the Hand and the chief officers. The other Fingers were located in Hadda, Yerumala, and Bajj, the leading provinces of the Empire. Yet they were irrelevant in this struggle. Aeswiren sensed this would all be over within a few days.
For local control, the Hand relied on the Fierce Fists, a cadre of a hundred picked men. Aeswiren knew most of these men, had read all of their files. He had selected six of these men to give his special trust. Aeswiren had sat with these young men, eaten meals with them, worked to instill loyalty into them. But now he knew that one of that cadre had to be the traitor.
The immediate task was to replace Hesh. The Hand needed a First Finger. Either Grimes or Chenko could do the job; they had been Hesh's deputies for many years, though neither exhibited quite the same degree of chilly resolve as Hesh.
Aeswiren never lingered anywhere for more than an hour. Accompanied by three guards and Klek, he shifted his location about the palace. Strangely, he found himself happier than he'd been in years.
Grimes accompanied him to a small room on the fourth floor of the west wing. They discussed the qualities of the Six, the young men Aeswiren had groomed for the highest levels.
"Bayrid and Chebble have always seemed very solid to me," said Grimes.
"And to me. I find it close to inconceivable that one of them could be the traitor." And then Chenko hurried in with the strangest look on his face.
"What?" snapped Aeswiren.
"We have found him, we have found Hesh."
Aeswiren's heart leaped.
"Good. Give thanks to the Gods for that. Where?"
"In the gardens of Lakank House. He was found by a bed of zajola flowers, just standing there."
"Is he sane?"
"I don't know."
"Let us see him."
"It makes me uneasy, my lord."
"Yes, but you have searched him thoroughly by now. He is only a man. I fear no man, not with Klek here and my own sword on my hip."
"This is magic, my lord. The First Finger says he remembers nothing. He feels well, he commends himself and his health to you, my lord. There are no visible marks on his body."
"What did he say, exactly?"
"What did he say, oh, many, many things, my lord. I could not remember them all. He babbled like a madman at times, but then he calmed and became perfectly normal."
Aeswiren's eyes tightened momentarily. He hated this evil magic and knew its source. He itched to bury his sword in the Old One before another day was gone.
"Bring him to me." Aeswiren looked around at the room. "Not here. Take him to the Library of Euphasian."
"Yes, my lord."
Chenko left them.
"What do you make of that?" Aeswiren asked Grimes.
"Magic, my lord. You mentioned the Old One. That must be the source."
"Aye, it must be. It is time to rid Shasht of this malign presence."
"Yes, my lord."
Aeswiren looked at Grimes for a moment. The response had been lacking ever so slightly in enthusiasm. A tiny thing, but in this situation Aeswiren knew he could afford no mistakes.
He moved to the Library of Euphasian, a long gallery of shelves and windows on a high floor of the east wing. It was one of the better libraries, established by Norgeeben's personal secretary, the learned Euphasian.
Hesh was brought in. As Chenko had said, Hesh appeared quite normal, from his flat-top, iron-grey hair through the flinty eyes and level mouth.
"My lord, forgive me." Hesh dropped to his knees and lowered his head.
"Hesh, please get up."
Hesh got to his feet, stood before Aeswiren.
Aeswiren searc
hed in the man's eyes. "What the hell happened to you, Hesh?"
"I do not know, my lord. I was in my bed, asleep, and then I awoke in the gardens, under a linden tree."
"I do not like such mysteries."
"No, my lord. Nor do I."
"You were in bed and you remember nothing, not a single thing?"
"Nothing, my lord."
"This must have been magic of a most fell and powerful kind."
"Yes, my lord, my conclusion, too."
"Both of your guards were killed."
"Yes, my lord, I heard that. I grieve for them, they were good men."
Aeswiren paced up and down. He wished he could kick off his boots and walk barefoot on a nice Nisjani rug. It always soothed him to walk on a fine rug.
"This is the work of the Old One."
At the mention of the name, Hesh nodded, but his eyes widened momentarily. Grimes and Chenko, too, rose up on the balls of their feet. All three were aware that this was the gravest of the Secrets of the State.
"Hesh, you remember my plan?"
Hesh's eyes widened further.
"Yes, my lord."
"It will be put into operation at once. Do you understand?"
Hesh's face had changed color, flushing a wild red. His eyes bulged in his face, his mouth worked.
Suddenly, with no further warning, he leaped at Aeswiren with arms outstretched. Aeswiren was taken by surprise by Hesh's speed. Hesh's hands closed on the Emperor's throat. The fingers dug in like talons. Aeswiren thrust up with his knee, hit Hesh across the side of the head with either hand. The fingers still closed on his throat, still tore at the skin.
Aeswiren heard a voice bellow; hands gripped Hesh by the shoulders and tried to pull him away. Someone screamed. The door to the library burst open, and the guards came in. Klek was already there.
Aeswiren drove his knee into Hesh's belly again and finally broke the man's grip. Aeswiren's right hand came over and smashed Hesh on the side of the face, spinning him around. Aeswiren's left hand came in at the solar plexus as Hesh spun, and the man was driven back a step.
By then many more details of the scene were horrifyingly obvious. Chenko was down, Grimes stood with a sword dripping blood. The Hand had been thoroughly penetrated.
But before Grimes could finish the job and kill him, Klek was there. He engaged Grimes, sword to sword. The pair of guards surged toward Hesh.
Unfortunately Hesh came back up onto his feet with insectal rapidity and met the guards head on. His high kick knocked one guard down, and then Hesh tore the other guard's sword from his hand. That guard fell a moment later as the sword ripped out his throat. Then Hesh turned back to Aeswiren.
It had taken but a few seconds, but that had been enough for Aeswiren to ready himself. The Emperor met the onrush with his sword, and though Hesh's blow was powerful Aeswiren parried it with a smooth stroke. He handled the next cut as well, but then Hesh whipped a quick backhand too low for Aeswiren to counter. The sword slid by and struck Aeswiren across the chest. The mail held, but the force of the blow drove the Emperor to his knees.
Hesh came on and Aeswiren could only block the next blow. Hesh landed astride him, and drove his sword down two-handed at his chest.
Instinctively, Aeswiren's sword deflected the stroke a few degrees, just enough to have it slice wide of his body and bury itself in the wooden floor of the library. It stuck fast there.
Aeswiren sucked in air that felt red hot in his lungs and punched Hesh in the face with every ounce of strength he could muster. Hesh fell backward, and Aeswiren heaved himself clear and started back onto his feet.
Hesh sprang up with an eery, inhuman speed again and tackled him around the legs. Aeswiren went down once more, but wriggled around just in time to block the dagger in Hesh's hand. Aeswiren had Hesh's wrist and Hesh had Aeswiren's. The struggle swayed there for a moment, but Hesh's terrible strength was beginning to tell.
And then Klek drove his sword into Hesh's back while wrapping an arm around his neck and hauling him back from the Emperor.
Aeswiren got to his feet, shaken. Grimes was dead. One of the guards was dead, the other was back on his feet, also looking shaken.
Hesh was arched over on his back, his face rigid in death. Except that Hesh was not yet dead. With a strange squeal he sprang back to life and came back onto his feet as if he were made of rubber. Then he reached over and tore his sword free from the floor.
The guard was the first to reach Hesh. Their swords rang as they clashed. The guard shoved Hesh with his shield, and then Hesh stabbed over the shield with the rapidity of a striking snake and the guard collapsed. The next moment Klek smashed into Hesh, but slipped on the bloody floor and fell heavily. Hesh ignored him and came straight back at the Emperor. Aeswiren met the sword, turned it, went chest to chest with Hesh. The man's eyes were focused on eternity, there was a strange gasping sound coming from his throat.
Aeswiren shoved with his free hand, turning Hesh slightly, an ancient trick of the swordsman. Hesh's thrust missed, but Aeswiren felt his own blade slide deep into Hesh's belly. He ripped upward and dumped the man's guts on the floor. Aeswiren stood back thinking it was over.
It was not. Hesh kept fighting, the strange gasping sound never stopped. Aeswiren felt his helmet fly from his head as Hesh hammered him with the sword. His head was ringing, he came close to blacking out.
Again, Klek saved him. This time he struck at the base of the neck, and Hesh's head was half severed from his body. Blood fountained over them, and the head of the thing flopped over grotesquely.
And still Hesh lived, for he spun around and drove again at Aeswiren. Horrified, almost unnerved, the Emperor barely parried the first blow, felt the second break the chain mail and cut into his ribs. Aeswiren stumbled, the killing blow missed him by a hairbreadth and then Klek caught the thing around its chest and pulled it aside while working his own sword into its chest cavity. Hesh's guts were all over the floor. The room was a charnel house. Hesh hammered Klek in the face and knocked him aside. It turned back to the Emperor. Aeswiren dug deep for his last bit of strength and swung again two-handed. Hesh's head flew across the library and struck a bust of Norgeeben in the far window.
Hesh's body fell headlong and lay still.
Aeswiren looked into Klek's face and saw his own astonishment and dread reflected there. The air carried a stench of blood and shit. Blood was running from Klek's battered nose.
"We must hurry, my lord, your enemies are on the move."
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Through the lamp-lit corridors of the east wing, the Emperor staggered, with faithful Klek at his side. Treachery was abroad, assassins were at work.
On the floor just below the library of Euphasian, they found twenty of the Fierce Fists bodies. From blood trails in the hall, it was clear the young men had been killed in various places and then brought there.
Apparently Grimes had not been the only traitor in the Fists.
On the ground floor near the east gate, a half dozen officers, stood in a group, looking lost. The ranker was Colonel Culchep. The sight of the Emperor, covered in blood, limping, shook these men.
"Where are the five hundred men I ordered stationed here?" wondered Aeswiren.
"Back in the barracks, my lord. We received orders, under your seal, to return to barracks while officers waited here."
Aeswiren sucked in a breath.
"And who delivered those orders to you?"
"Grimes, my lord. I did not question them. Are you saying they were not your orders?"
"Yes, Colonel, that is what I am saying. There is treachery at work here. You had best look to your men. I imagine that if you stay here, you will be killed."
The colonel blanched. Aeswiren looked up. Klek was signaling urgently from the doorway. Aeswiren lurched over to take a look.
A battalion of Red Tops entered the east gate. More Red Tops were visible on the battlements above.
"The fornicating sons of dogs," muttered Aesw
iren, feeling the layers of civilization sloughing away from him like dead skin. The old Aeswiren, the man of war was reawakening.
"I know a way out," Aeswiren murmured quietly to Klek.
His mind raced ahead. Obviously the priests had moved to take control of the city. Other packets of forged orders would have been used to move the guards regiment to barracks. Red Tops would be everywhere, guarding the gates, monitoring whoever entered or left the city.
When they knew he had escaped, they would redouble the search. The Old One would not rest until Aeswiren was dead.
In his stead they would crown Aurook. Aeswiren had often wondered if the Old One had done something to his sons. Aurook had been a worthwhile person until a few years back. Then came the darkness that turned the boy into a vicious sadist. Aeswiren had fought to save him, but in the end he had lost. Nebbeggebben had been lost, too, exactly five years before. So it went. As the Emperor's heirs approached their majority, they became corrupted. The story was as old as the Empire. He had rid himself, and Shasht, of Nebbeggebben by sending him off on the expedition. Aurook was still here, and now he would be the imperial puppet of the Old One.
Aeswiren felt cold fury burning in his heart. He had waited too long. He had underestimated the Old One. He would not do that again, but he would survive, and someday he would kill the Old One himself. Nothing else would ever banish the sight of Hesh at his end. No man should die like that.
"Colonel, I think you should all go to the barracks at once. There appears to be a regiment of Red Tops entering the palace compound."
Culchep was stunned.
"By the Great God's purple ass! That is unforgivable."
Aeswiren laughed at such military frankness. Culchep had blushed red to his helmet line. At least, Aeswiren, thought, he knew he could trust Culchep!
The Shasht War Page 30