“Open it,” said Sidonicus.
Scarred Buthar lifted the lid, revealing a dark, wide leather sack, filling the box. This sack was knotted shut, the two ends of the knotted cord attached to one another by a wrapped paper, closed by a wax seal.
“Bring the lamp closer,” said Sidonicus.
“The palace seal, again,” said Fulvius.
“Break the seal, read the paper,” said Sidonicus, eagerly.
“It is a certification and confirmation,” said Fulvius, “of the contents, of the weighing and counting out of one thousand darins of gold.”
“One thousand!” said Sidonicus.
“One thousand!” said Buthar.
Grissus was silent. His hand went, again, to the hilt of his knife.
“Our friend, Corelius,” said Sidonicus, “cannot be faulted for his lack of arrogance and ambition.”
“Nor greed,” said Fulvius.
“He puts a high price on the goods he sells,” said Sidonicus.
“But, interestingly,” said Fulvius, “one the palace is willing to meet.”
“With such gold,” said Buthar, “one could buy an army, one could master a world.”
“I am certain the temple can find worthy causes to which it might be applied,” said Sidonicus.
“Surely,” said Fulvius.
“Dear Buthar and Grissus,” said Sidonicus, “you have done well, and you will be neither forgotten nor neglected. You may now withdraw.”
“Grissus,” said Buthar, “free the cords.”
Grissus whipped out his knife, put his hand on the sack, holding it still, and, with one quick motion of his knife, slashed open the cords.
“Do not think we are not grateful for your service,” said Sidonicus. “It is much appreciated. You may now leave.”
“I am in no hurry,” said Buthar.
“Your presence here is no longer necessary,” said Sidonicus.
“I would see the gold,” said Buthar. He then looked to silent Grissus. “Empty the sack,” he said.
“Please,” protested Sidonicus.
“Spill the gold, heap it on the table, here,” said Buthar to Grissus.
Grissus did not sheath his knife, but held it between his teeth.
“Wait,” said Sidonicus, reaching into the open sack. “I will give you your three darins of gold.”
“I think, your excellency, your blessedness,” said Fulvius, quickly, “reliable men devoted to dark designs, involving possible risks, like to be well paid.”
“Oh?” said Sidonicus.
“Very much so,” said Fulvius.
“Of course,” said Sidonicus, “six darins of gold!” He then reached into the sack, with two hands, seized a portion of its contents, and offered them to Buthar.
“What is this?” cried Buthar in rage. He then, himself, with effort, drew up the sack, half way, and then wholly, and turned it over, showering the table with its contents.
“Lead! Lead pellets!” cried Buthar.
Grissus pulled the knife from between his teeth, and, in rage, struck the table a dozen or more times, slashing amongst pellets, scattering them about, often to the floor, gouging and splintering wood.
Sidonicus and Fulvius fled from the basement.
They halted their flight only behind the bolted door of the exarch’s private audience chamber.
“Lead,” said Sidonicus, “only lead!”
“Be pleased, your excellency,” said Fulvius. “Had it been gold, we might now be dead.”
“We were tricked,” said Sidonicus.
“And are alive,” said Fulvius. “It is not well to display honey to the arn bear nor sheep to the vi-cat.”
“Lead, tricked!” said Sidonicus.
“I am sure that Buthar and Grissus, under more modest and guarded circumstances, will once more prove to be valued minions,” said Fulvius. “Buthar is not likely to desire to return to the bloody square, nor Grissus to the petty work of the cheap assassin, hiding in doorways, lurking in alleys.”
“Lead pellets!” said Sidonicus.
“More valuable to us than gold, as it turned out,” said Fulvius.
“Perhaps,” said Sidonicus, grudgingly.
“In any event,” said Fulvius, “we have learned one thing. It is no longer obvious that Corelius conceals himself in the dock district.”
Chapter Fifty-Five
“Your name is Urta?” said Viviana.
“Yes, great lady,” said Urta.
“An Otung?” she asked.
“Summoned from Tangara to Telnaria,” said Urta, “and from thence here, to lovely Tenguthaxichai.”
“I have heard of you,” said Viviana, “from the time of the King Naming on Tangara, and in connection with savage, scaled Heruls.”
“The great lady,” said Urta, “must not believe everything she has heard.”
“If you are Otung,” said Viviana, “how is it that you dare to appear here, amongst Drisriaks?”
“I come in peace, permitted and credentialed, as the loyal servitor of two glories of the empire,” said Urta, “Sidonicus, exarch of Telnar, and your beloved husband and lord, Ingeld, prince of the Drisriaks.”
“Your appearance is not prepossessing,” said Viviana. “You seem an unlikely agent of so exalted a principal as the exarch of Telnar, or of so worthy and handsome a prince as Ingeld, son of mighty Abrogastes.”
“A jewel may reside in a plain container, great lady,” said Urta, “and the ugliest of dogs is often the most loyal.”
“And a vi-cat may turn on its master without warning,” said Viviana.
“Only if the vi-cat finds it to his advantage,” said Urta.
Viviana, gowned and jeweled, clad in Telnarian finery, had received Urta in her quarters, at the request of Ingeld. Her chair, the arms of which were carved in the likeness of the mane and head of a forest lion, was mounted on a small dais. In this fashion her station was attested. In the dais, at each side of the chair, was a slave ring. To such a ring, she would occasionally chain Huta, clad in scraps of rags, as a low slave, a laundering and cleaning slave, whose services Abrogastes had placed at her disposal, save in the evenings, when he housed her, in her rags or less, at the foot of his couch. Given the return of Abrogastes, the relationship of Huta and Ingeld had undergone, at least publicly, a radical transformation. They had scarcely dared to glance at one another in public. Ingeld, in public, had treated her with indifference, even coldness, and she, at least in public, had avoided him as if she were a terrified slave, fearing his whip. Certainly he had forbidden her to enter his quarters. Needless to say, this was found acceptable by Viviana. Huta was, after all, owned by Abrogastes, and, as she had no wish to be boiled alive, and Ingeld had no wish to face the wrath of his father, that perhaps extending even to a public expression of disapproval, both sought to avoid any hint of interest or attraction between them. Huta’s fear and wariness was increased when Viviana informed her that her behavior would be scrutinized, and the least suspicion of any interest in Ingeld, or lack of faithfulness to her master, on any count, would be summarily brought to the attention of Abrogastes. In this fashion Viviana had much reduced Huta’s activities, and her potentiality as a rival. Similarly, Huta sensed that she was now much less in the favor of Abrogastes than hitherto. And might she be in actual disfavor? Surely that was a terrifying thought to be entertained by a female slave. As Ingeld feared his father might know more than he cared to reveal, of plots and behaviors, so, too, Huta feared he might suspect, or know of, her infidelity.
Urta smiled, and looked up at Viviana.
“I enter your presence at the invitation and urging of your husband and lord, Prince Ingeld,” said Urta.
“I am aware of that,” said Viviana. “You are admitted.”
“Thank you, beautiful and gracious lady,” said Ur
ta.
“Are you not he who stole an Otung artifact, a medallion and chain, from the festung of Sim Giadini, shortly before its destruction?” asked Viviana.
“Surely it must be another,” said Urta, as though dismayed. “I know nothing of such things.”
“My husband and lord wishes you to speak to me,” said Viviana. “You may speak.”
“Surely you are aware of the nature of the matter,” said Urta.
“I am not,” said Viviana.
“Your husband and lord did not inform you?”
“No.”
“The matter is sensitive, even delicate,” said Urta. “I trust that what transpires here is to be kept in the utmost confidence.”
“Speak,” said Viviana.
“The empire totters,” said Urta. “Barbarians, of a thousand tribes, prowl the perimeters of the empire. Weapons are sharpened. Raids occur. Storms of war gather.”
“It is my understanding,” said Viviana, “that Otungs ally themselves with the empire, and perhaps others of the Vandal tribes, as well. Indeed, an Otung currently occupies the imperial throne. On the other hand, the Aatii, or the Alemanni, as you may know them, amongst them the Drisriaks, sheath their weapons and rest their ships. They tend their fields and graze their cattle. Abrogastes, my esteemed father-in-law, will have it so. Small wars occur, many of them amongst the barbarians themselves. But the empire holds. The standards and banners of Telnaria have not been so secure in years. Do you seek to change that? Do you seek to threaten Telnaria?”
“Certainly not, great lady,” said Urta.
“There are many ways to conquer an empire, or seize an empire, or come to power in an empire,” said Viviana. “As the saying has it, common amongst barbarians, as you are doubtless aware, there are many paths to one hall. A sword carves one path, law, a child, and a regency another.”
“But,” said Urta, “there is no child, and thus no regency.”
“Why do you not speak openly?” asked Viviana.
“As there is one empire,” said Urta, “there should be one mind, one belief, one creed, one faith, to unify the empire.”
“Faiths divide men,” said Viviana.
“Not if there is a single faith,” said Urta.
“And thus a single pan for offerings?” said Viviana.
“An inevitable consequence,” conceded Urta.
“As my husband and lord has insisted upon this interview, which I find neither comprehensible nor tasteful,” said Viviana, “I request that you speak clearly and quickly, and then, with dispatch, take your leave.”
“Do not be too curt or lofty with me, great lady,” said Urta. “Despite your dais and heavy, carved chair, and your gowns and jewels, you have little power on Tenguthaxichai. At a word from Ingeld or Abrogastes you could be stripped, branded, and collared, and sent to the pens to tend pigs, or transported to a mud world, naked and in chains, to be auctioned off to the highest bidder, perhaps a four-armed simian or insectoid.”
“Filch!” seethed Viviana.
“Surely you know,” said Urta, “that beneath your jewels and silks, you are as naked as the least of slaves.”
“Leave my presence,” said Viviana.
“You might even find yourself my property,” said Urta. “I might buy you.”
“Go!” said Viviana.
“I think not, lovely, haughty Telnarian,” said Urta. “You will hear me out.”
“No!” said Viviana.
“Shall I then inform your husband and lord that you are reluctant to listen, which is contrary to his expectation and desire, and which intelligence he might find disappointing?”
“You may speak,” said Viviana, “but do so quickly, and then, with haste, depart.”
“As you know,” said Urta, “plans obtain, devised by Abrogastes, the Far-Grasper, whereby the throne of Telnaria may, following some discord, come into the keeping of either Ingeld or Hrothgar.”
“Following Drisriak infiltration and a popular uprising in the streets of Telnar,” said Viviana.
“Precisely,” said Urta, “coupled, of course, with the availability of a royal child, one of shared Telnarian and Drisriak blood, such events leading happily to a joining of peoples and a benign regency.”
“I am aware of all this,” said Viviana.
“But there is unlikely to be a useful insurrection, a popular uprising in the streets, something important to our plans,” said Urta, “unless it is arranged by, and summoned forth by, the exarch of Telnar.”
“Surely he would be guilty of no such crime,” said Viviana. “He is a pious, holy man, one who humbly wears the sign of the Burning Rack, one who speaks in the name of gentle Floon.”
“One envisions a world as one wishes the world to be,” said Urta. “One then acts to bring that world about. Reasons, justifications, and such are afterthoughts. Such things are always at hand. They are common, like weeds and dirt. They are easy to find. One can find one to justify anything.”
“The exarch would never be party to death, ruin, and destruction,” said Viviana.
“Say, rather, to life, growth, and progress,” said Urta, smiling.
“I see,” said Viviana.
“For such collaboration, for such cooperation and complicity, there is, of course, a price,” said Urta.
“Doubtless,” said Viviana.
“As I said,” said Urta, “as there is one empire, there should be one mind, one belief, one creed, one faith, to unify the empire.”
“Floonianism,” said Viviana.
“One particular version of Floonianism,” said Urta.
“It is not difficult to speculate on which version the exarch has in mind,” said Viviana.
“It is to be made the official religion of the empire,” said Urta, “and then, later, though Prince Ingeld need not be informed of this at present, the only religion of the empire, its teachings and observances to be imposed by the sword of the state.”
“Murder,” said Viviana.
“Salubrious purification,” said Urta. “One must prevent the spread of pernicious lies and false faiths, faiths inimical to the welfare of the koos. Men are to be saved, if necessary, even from themselves, not misled. They are to be guided into the paths of righteousness, by those who know such paths, for the sake of their koos. It is a holy duty.”
“That is a bloody monstrosity,” said Viviana.
“Beware how you speak and how you think,” said Urta.
“I thought gold paved the path to power,” said Viviana.
“The instillation of fear and guilt, the control of words and thought, careful teaching, frowns, sneers, denunciations, and such, may do so as well,” said Urta. “And gold will later follow, of its own accord.”
“I know the father of my husband and lord,” said Viviana. “He will not agree to such a price. He would never stand for such things. He may or may not believe in the gods of his people, I do not know, but he will not forsake them. He wants land, gold, power, and, I fear, women, but he would not seek his ends by poison, either of the body or mind. He is Drisriak, of the Aatii, or Alemanni. Such doings would not be honorable. The empire means much to him, but less than his honor. Perhaps you cannot understand that.”
“I understand that very well,” said Urta. “So, too, does the exarch of Telnar and your beloved husband and lord, Prince Ingeld. That is what brings me to the foot of your dais.”
“I do not understand,” said Viviana.
“Obviously,” said Urta, “Abrogastes must go.”
“He is the father of my husband and lord,” said Viviana.
“He must be removed,” said Urta.
“What has this to do with me?” asked Viviana.
“I have here, within my tunic,” said Urta, “a small package, obtained in Telnar, through the auspices of his blessedness and e
xcellency, the exarch of Telnar. It contains a tasteless powder which, in a moment, placed surreptitiously in a drink, say, kana or bror, will dissolve, leaving no trace. Its effect takes place in a few minutes. It produces no great pain, no agony. You need not be concerned on that score. One subsides, gradually, gently, almost unnoticeably. With Abrogastes gone, Ingeld will be king of the Drisriaks, hegemonic tribe of the Alemanni, and the path to the throne of Telnaria will be open.”
“Take it away,” said Viviana. “I do not want even to look upon it.”
Urta placed the small packet on the dais, at the slippered feet of Viviana.
“Does my husband and lord know of this?” asked Viviana. “Why is he not here? What is his part in this? Does he have a part in this? Speak!”
“The noble Prince Ingeld did not choose to be present,” said Urta. “I prefer not to speak further of the matter.”
“So he is not involved?” said Viviana. “So he seems to know nothing of this business?”
“I prefer not to speak further of the matter,” said Urta.
“It is all on me?” said Viviana. “I am to be the culprit, I, to bear alone the wrath and vengeance of a bereaved nation?”
“You are in no danger,” said Urta. “The death will seem one of natural causes. The powder has been selected with great care.”
“I am not a murderer,” said Viviana. “I will not administer this powder to the father of my husband and lord. I refuse to do so.”
“Then, dear lady,” said Urta, “I fear you are in great danger.”
“I do not understand,” said Viviana.
“For one thing,” said Urta, “you now know of the matter, which places you in great jeopardy. For a second thing, you will have proved displeasing to your husband and lord which, I fear, places you in even greater jeopardy. This plot discovered, for example, you would be fortunate to avoid more than the horse death, in which, ropes attached to your fair limbs, you will be torn to pieces by horses.”
“I have few opportunities to discharge this grievous business, even did I wish to do so,” said Viviana.
“You will be in no danger,” said Urta. “The slave, Huta, is privy to our design. She is each night in the chamber of Abrogastes. She would have no difficulty, in her serving her master, to see that the contents of this small packet find their way into, say, a goblet of kana.”
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