Ulath took a long honing-steel from his belt and began to draw it slowly across the edge of his axe-blade. It made the sort of screech that sets the teeth on edge.
‘As a demonstration of my benevolence,’ Sarabian continued, ‘I’ve made arrangements for you all to be lodged here tonight, and to provide you with accommodations that will give each of you absolute privacy to review your past lives so that you can answer questions fully tomorrow. Lord Vanion, would you and your knights be so good as to escort our guests down to their quarters in the dungeon?’ Sarabian was improvising for all he was worth.
‘At once, your Majesty,’ Vanion replied, clashing his mailed fist against his breastplate in salute.
‘Ah, Lord Vanion,’ Ehlana added.
‘Yes, my Queen?’
‘You might consider searching our guests before you put them to bed. We don’t want any more of them hurting themselves the way the Chancellor of the Exchequer did, now do we?’
‘Excellent suggestion, your Majesty,’ Sarabian agreed. ‘Take all their toys away from them, Lord Vanion. We don’t want them to be distracted by anything.’ He paused a moment. ‘Actually, Lord Vanion, I rather think our guests will be able to concentrate a little better if they have something tangible about them to emphasize their situation. It seems that I read something once to the effect that the prisoners in Elene dungeons wear a kind of uniform.’
‘Yes, your Majesty,’ Vanion told him with an absolutely straight face. ‘It’s a sleeveless smock made of gray burlap – with a bright red stripe painted down the back, so that they can be identified in case they escape.’
‘Do you suppose you might be able to find something along those lines for our guests?’
‘If not, we can improvise, your Majesty.’
‘Splendid, Lord Vanion – and take their jewels away from them as well. Jewels make people feel important, and I want them all to understand that they’re little more than bugs. I suppose you’d better feed them as well. What do people usually eat in dungeons?’
‘Bread and water, your Majesty – a little gruel once in a while.’
‘That should do nicely. Get them out of here, Vanion. The very sight of them is starting to nauseate me.’
Vanion barked a few sharp commands, and the knights descended on the former government.
Each official had an honor guard of armored men to escort him – in some cases to drag him – down to the dungeon.
‘Ah – stay a moment, Teovin,’ the Emperor said urbanely to the Director of the Secret Police. ‘I believe there was something you wanted to say to me?’
‘No, your Majesty.’ Teovin’s tone was sullen.
‘Come, come, old boy. Don’t be shy. We’re all friends here. If you’re in any way offended by anything I’ve done here today, spit it out. Milord Stragen will be happy to lend you his rapier, and then you and I can discuss things. I’m sure you’ll find my explanations quite pointed.’ Sarabian let his mantle slide to the floor. He smiled a chill smile and drew his rapier again. ‘Well?’ he said.
‘It would be treason for me to offer violence to your Majesty’s person,’ Teovin mumbled.
‘Good God, Teovin, why should that bother you? You’ve been involved in treason for the past several years anyway, so why concern yourself with a few picky little technicalities? Take up the sword, man. For once – just once – face me openly. I’ll give you a fencing lesson – one you’ll remember for the rest of your life, short though that may be.’
‘I will not raise my hand against my Emperor,’ Teovin declared.
‘What a shame. I’m really disappointed in you, old boy. You may go now.’
Vanion took the Director’s arm in his mailed fist and half dragged him from the throne-room.
The Emperor of Tamuli exultantly raised his rapier over his head, rose onto tiptoe, and spun about in a flamboyant little pirouette. Then he extended one leg forward and bowed extravagantly to Ehlana, sweeping his slender sword to the side. ‘And that, dear mother,’ he said to her, ‘is how you overthrow a government.’
‘No, Lady Sephrenia,’ the queen said flatly a half-hour later when they had gathered again in the royal apartment, ‘you do not have our permission to withdraw. You’re a member of the royal council of Elenia, and we have need of you.’
Sephrenia’s pale, grief-stricken face went stiff. ‘As your Majesty commands.’
‘Snap out of it, Sephrenia. This is an emergency. We don’t have time for personal concerns. Zalasta’s betrayed us all, not just you. Now we have to try to minimize the damage.’
‘You’re not being fair, mother,’ Danae accused.
‘I’m not trying to be. You’ll be queen one day, Danae. Now sit down, keep your mouth shut, and learn.’
Danae looked startled. Then her chin came up. She curtsied. ‘Yes, your Majesty,’ she said.
‘That’s better. I’ll make a queen of you yet. Sir Bevier.’
‘Yes, your Majesty?’ Bevier replied.
‘Tell your Cyrinics to man their catapults. Vanion, put the rest of the knights on the walls and tell them to start boiling the pitch. Zalasta’s on the loose out there. He’s completely lost control of himself, and we have no idea of what forces he has at his command. In his present state, he may try anything, so let’s be ready – just in case.’
‘You sound like a field-marshal, Ehlana,’ Sarabian told her.
‘I am,’ she replied absently. ‘It’s one of my titles. Sparhawk, can Bhelliom counter any magic Zalasta might throw at us?’
‘Easily, my Queen. He probably won’t try anything, though. You saw what happened to him when Bhelliom blew his cloud apart. It’s very painful to have one of your spells broken. Sephrenia knows him better than I do. She can tell you whether or not he’s desperate enough to risk that again.’
‘Well, Sephrenia?’ Ehlana asked.
‘I don’t really know, your Majesty,’ the small Styric woman replied after a moment’s thought. ‘This is a side of him I’ve never seen before. I honestly believe he’s gone mad. He might do almost anything.’
‘We’d better be ready for him, then. Mirtai, ask Kalten and Ulath to bring Kolata in here. Let’s find out just how far this conspiracy goes.’
Sparhawk drew Sephrenia to one side. ‘How did Zalasta find out about Danae?’ he asked. ‘It’s obvious that he knows who she really is. Did you tell him?’
‘No. She told me not to.’
‘That’s peculiar. I’ll talk with her later and find out why. Maybe she suspected something – or it might have been one of those hunches of hers.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Could he have been trying to kill you? It seemed that he was throwing that fireball at Danae, but you might have been his target.’
‘I could never believe that, Sparhawk.’
‘At this point, I’m almost ready to believe anything.’ He hesitated. ‘Xanetia knew about him, you realize. She told us earlier.’
‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ Her tone was shocked.
‘Because you wouldn’t have believed her. You’re not really inclined to trust her word, Sephrenia. You had to see Zalasta’s treachery for yourself. Oh, incidentally, she did save your life, you’ll remember. You might want to give that some thought.’
‘Don’t scold me, Sparhawk,’ she said with a wan little smile. ‘I’m having a difficult enough time as it is.’
‘I know, and I’m afraid nobody can make it any easier for you.’
Kolata proved to be very cooperative. His weeks of confinement had broken his spirit, and Zalasta’s obvious willingness to kill him had canceled any loyalty he might have felt. ‘I really don’t know,’ he replied to Oscagne’s question. ‘Teovin might, though. He’s the one who brought Zalasta’s proposal to me originally.’
‘Then you haven’t been involved in this affair since you were first appointed to office?’
‘I don’t think “this affair”, as you call it, has been going on for that long. I can’t say for certain, but I got the impression that
it all started about five or six years ago.’
‘You’ve been recruiting people for longer than that.’
‘That was just ordinary Tamul politics, Oscagne. I knew that the Prime Minister was an idiot as soon as I took office. You were my only significant opponent. I was recruiting people to counter your moves – and your absurd idea that the subject kingdoms of Daresia are foreign nations rather than integral parts of metropolitan Tamuli.’
‘We can discuss jurisdictional disputes some other time, Kolata. It was Teovin, then? He’s been your contact with the enemy?’
Kolata nodded. ‘Teovin and a disreputable drunkard named Krager. Krager’s an Eosian, and he’s had dealings with Prince Sparhawk before, I understand. Everyone in our loose confederation knows him, so he makes a perfect messenger – when he’s sober.’
‘That’s Krager, all right,’ Kalten noted.
‘What exactly did Zalasta offer you, Kolata?’ Oscagne asked the prisoner.
‘Power, wealth – the usual. You’re a minister of the government, Oscagne. You know the game and the stakes we play for. We all thought that the Emperor was no more than a figurehead, well meaning, a little vague, and not really very well informed – sorry, your Majesty, but that’s what we all believed.’
‘Thank you,’ Sarabian replied. ‘That’s what you were supposed to think. What really baffles me, though, is the fact that you all overlooked the fact that the Atans are loyal to me personally. Didn’t any of you take that into consideration?’
‘We underestimated your Majesty. We didn’t think you grasped the full implications of that. If we’d thought for a moment that you really understood how much power you had, we’d have killed you.’
‘I rather thought you might have. That’s why I played the simpleton.’
‘Did Zalasta tell you who was really behind all of this?’ Oscagne asked.
‘He pretended that he was speaking for Cyrgon,’ Kolata replied. ‘We didn’t take that too seriously, though. Styrics are peculiar people. They always try to make us believe that they represent a higher power of some kind. They never seem to want to accept full responsibility. So far as I know, however, it was Zalasta’s scheme.’
‘I think that maybe it’s time for us to hear from Zalasta himself,’ Vanion said.
‘Have you got him hidden up your sleeve, Vanion?’ Ehlana asked.
‘In a manner of speaking, your Majesty. Kalten, why don’t you take the Minister of the Interior back to his room? He looks a little tired.’
‘I still have questions, Lord Vanion,’ Oscagne protested.
‘We’ll get you your answers, old boy,’ Itagne assured him, ‘quicker and in much greater detail. You plod, Oscagne. It’s one of your failings. We’re just going to hurry things along.’
Vanion waited until Kalten and Ulath had removed Kolata from the room. ‘We’ve told you all in a general sort of way that Xanetia knows what other people are thinking. This isn’t just some vague notion about feelings or moods. If she chooses, she can repeat your thoughts word for word. Most of you probably have some doubts about that, so in the interests of saving time, why don’t we have her demonstrate? Would you tell us what Queen Ehlana’s thinking right now, Anarae?’
‘An it please thee, Lord Vanion,’ the Delphaeic woman replied. ‘Her Majesty is enjoying herself very much at the moment. She is, however, discontent with thee for thine interruption. She is pleased with the progress of Emperor Sarabian, thinking it might now be reasonable to expect some small measure of competence from him. She hath, as well, certain designs of an intimate nature upon her husband, for political activity doth ever stir that side of her personality.’
Ehlana’s face turned bright red. ‘You stop that at once!’ she exclaimed.
‘I’m sorry, your Majesty,’ Vanion apologized. ‘I didn’t anticipate that last bit. Did Xanetia more or less read your thoughts correctly?’
‘You know I won’t answer that, Vanion.’ The queen’s face was still flaming.
‘Will you at least concede that she has access to the thoughts of others?’
‘I’d heard about that,’ Sarabian mused. ‘I thought it was just another of the wild stories we hear about the Delphae.’
‘Bhelliom confirmed it, Emperor Sarabian,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘Xanetia can read others the way you’d read an open book. I’d imagine that she’s read Zalasta from cover to cover. She should be able to tell us everything we want to know.’ He looked at Xanetia. ‘Could you give us a sort of summary of Zalasta’s life, Anarae?’ he asked her. ‘Sephrenia in particular is deeply saddened by what he revealed in the throne-room. Maybe if she knows the reason for his actions, she’ll find them easier to understand.’
‘I can speak for myself, Sparhawk,’ Sephrenia told him tartly.
‘I’m sure you can, little mother. I was just serving as an intermediary. You and Xanetia don’t get on too well.’
‘What’s this?’ Sarabian asked quickly.
‘An ancient enmity, your Majesty,’ Xanetia explained. ‘So ancient, in truth, that none living knoweth its source.’
‘I know,’ Sephrenia grated at her, ‘and it’s not as ancient as all that.’
‘Perhaps, but hearken unto the mind of Zalasta, and judge for thyself, Sephrenia of Ylara.’
Kalten and Ulath returned and quietly took their seats again.
‘Zalasta was born some few centuries ago in the Styric village of Ylara, which lay in the forest near Cenae in northern Astel,’ Xanetia began. ‘In his seventh year was there born also in that self-same village she whom we now know as Sephrenia, one of the Thousand of Styricum, tutor to the Pandion Knights in the secrets of Styricum, Councillor of Elenia and beloved of Preceptor Vanion.’
‘That’s no longer true,’ Sephrenia said shortly.
‘I spoke of Lord Vanion’s feelings for thee, Sephrenia, not of thine for him. Zalasta’s family was on friendly terms with Sephrenia’s, and they did conclude between them that when Sephrenia and Zalasta should reach a suitable age, they would be wed.’
‘I’d forgotten about that,’ Sephrenia said suddenly. ‘I’ve never really thought of him that way.’
‘It hath been the central fact of his life, however, I do assure thee. When thou wert in thy ninth year didst thy mother conceive, and the child she bore was in truth Aphrael, Child Goddess of Styricum, and in the instant of her birth did Zalasta’s hopes and dreams turn to dust and ashes, for thy life was forever given over entirely to thine infant sister. Zalasta’s wrath knew no bounds, and he did hide himself in the forest, lest his countenance betray his innermost thoughts. Much he traveled, seeking out the most powerful magicians of Styricum, even, at peril of his soul, those outcast and accursed. His search had but one aim, to discover some means whereby a man might overthrow and destroy a God; for his despair drove him to an unreasoning hatred of the Child Goddess; and, more than anything, he sought her death.’
Princess Danae gasped aloud.
‘You’re supposed to be listening,’ her mother said.
‘I was startled, mother.’
‘You must never show that. Always keep your emotions under control.’
‘Yes, mother.’
‘It was in the sixth year of the life of the Child Goddess – in that particular incarnation – that Zalasta, in a frenzy of frustration, since all with whom he had spoken had told him that his goal was beyond human capability, turned to more direct means. Hoping perhaps that the Child Goddess might be caught unawares or that by reason of her tender years might she not yet have come into her full powers, conceived he a reckless plan, an attempt to o’erwhelm her with sheer numbers. Though the Goddess herself is immortal, thought he that mayhap might her incarnation be slain, forcing her to seek another vessel for her awareness.’
‘Would that work?’ Kalten asked Sparhawk.
‘How should I know?’ Sparhawk threw a guarded glance at his daughter.
Danae very casually shook her head.
‘In furtherance of hi
s hasty and ill-conceived scheme did Zalasta assume the guise of an Elene clergyman and did visit the rude villages of the serfs of that region and did denounce the Styrics of his own village, describing them as idolaters and demon-worshipers, whose foul rites demanded the blood of Elene virgins. So hotly did he inflame them with his false reports that on a certain day did the ignorant serfs gather, and swept they down upon that innocent Styric village, slaughtering all and putting their houses to the torch.’
‘But that was Sephrenia’s home, too!’ Ehlana exclaimed. ‘How could he be sure that she wouldn’t be killed as well?’
‘He was beyond caring, Queen of Elenia. Indeed, it was his thought that better far should she die than that Aphrael should have her. Better a grief that would pass than endless unsatisfied longing. But as it came to pass, the Child Goddess had besought her sister that very morning that they two should go into the forest to gather wild flowers, and thus it was that they were not there when the Elene serfs fell upon the village.’
‘Zalasta told me the story once,’ Sparhawk interrupted. ‘He said that he was with Sephrenia and Aphrael in the forest.’
‘Nay, Anakha. He was at the village, directing the search for the two.’
‘Why would he lie about something like that?’
‘Mayhap he doth lie even to himself. His acts that day were monstrous, and it is in our nature to obscure such behavior from ourselves.’
‘Maybe that’s it,’ he conceded.
‘Ye may well perceive the depths of Zalasta’s hatred and despair when thou knowest that his own kindred perished there,’ Xanetia continued. ‘Yea, his father and his mother and sisters three fell beneath the cudgels and scythes of the ravening beasts he had unleashed even as he looked on.’
‘I don’t believe you!’ Sephrenia burst out.
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