"If you ever decided to come back remember this word: Jusawa."
"Oh! Thank you, Mistress Senetta. Your servant Samje mentioned that word."
"It means freedom. In a way, your potions are a kind of freedom. From pain and suffering. Temporarily."
"I am happy to hear it Mistress Senetta. Ah. . .Jusawa. Thank you." He said, bowing his head slightly. The room rumbled with Senetta's low, mirthful laughter.
Demos thought on her words as he rode home in the dark. Freedom. The house guardsmen took back streets to Ulthi's house and they were swift, almost supernatural in their speed. But Demos had thoughts exploding in his head that dizzied him. This mysterious woman seemed to know things about his master, things he had already ascertained himself. He thought of tasting freedom again. He had thought it beaten out of him. She had re-awakened it. But this woman, who was she and was she really the benefactor she seemed to be or another sinister person playing a game? What kind of world was she drawing him into? Would he be her thrall? Even so, his growing, disquieting thoughts about his master's secret dealings were confirmed and were far more disturbing to him than what she had offered. Perhaps, just perhaps, he would take a chance and leave Master Ulthi. Just so long as Master Ulthi never found out that he had left in the first place, else his hopes and his head would be dashed in. Still, there was that word: Jusawa. Freedom.
Chapter Eleven
This time The Stage was full to capacity, even beyond. Tonight the air was buzzing. There was rebellious talk in the crowd and on the streets for the past few years from certain sections of the populace, talk of uprising in secret places by bolder ones. Ochorus had started to keep tabs on the talk and from whom. He was not as zealous in reporting odd matters to the queen's head huntsman as he used to be but orders were orders. One interesting thing he'd found out was that certain elements from the Ainash priesthood encouraged such talk. Not openly. Openly, they were united with the queen but they fomented it from behind the scenes. Sometimes Ochorus did not know who was worse - the queen or them. He thought things seemed at least better under the king when he was alive and the king was bad enough. These days everyone had spies and sometimes spies switched sides. Like he had.
The smoke was thick, especially in the back. Being a regular who was also a generous paying customer, Ochorus had the privilege of sitting in a box seat on the balcony. He sipped his beer. It was thick, dark and mealy and slightly bitter - just the way he liked it. Some of his fellows found him and came to sit with him. He saw other Hatchet Men, pushing through the crowds, entering in below.
"I cannot believe the crowds tonight. I have seen crowds but this!" It was Lur, one of his most trusted sources and part of the biggest thieves' den in Jhis. If one needed something procured, Lur was the man to call upon. They spoke in low tones so as not to be overheard.
"Lur! I have not seen you in an age. How does it go with you?"
"Well enough. The priesthood keeps me busy, and in gold I must say. The last remnants of Rhe have been cleared out. There is precious rock on the land beneath the town. Star rock, they say. A new town is being built for the smiths and other workers going there. Mining has already started."
"Who will claim the lion's share of it?"
"The queen, of course, but the Ainash get their share and I have gotten a good sum for myself for all my troubles."
"It sounds like I am in the wrong profession. So what do you think of this play they will have today? Have you heard anything about it? If I did not know any better I would think an Egian dancing girl had come to the place."
"Things have been getting interesting. I hope we do have a dancing Egian girl! I have not heard anything special. But my specialty is not actors and dancers."
"Well something special is about to happen tonight. I feel it." At that moment one of the actors came out from behind the stage curtain and he bowed low before the crowd and raised his hands. The crowd cheered loudly.
"Good evening men! We have an exciting new play tonight. It is called The King of the Desert and we have been working hard to bring it to you, but first we have some dancers to start off the night!" He turned and went back behind the platform and three girls, clad in veils and gold and silver chains and belts and flowers in their hair came out, to the approval of the male patrons there and the musicians began to play the tambourines and the lyre and with clapping they whipped the crowd up. Coins were thrown up which the girls gathered enthusiastically when it was over.
Then the play started.
It began with life-sized puppets. It was a new sort of theater. Ochorus had noticed that it was introduced a year ago from the Rurrian acting troupes, where the actors would dress up in colorful paper and cloth costumes and elaborate masks, sometimes as people, sometimes as animals and it was becoming very popular with the people.
A pride of lionesses came creeping out from behind the curtain and pranced around the stage and then a huge lion with a luxurious mane emerged. The actor in the lion suit roared to the amusement of the audience and went and placed himself in the middle of the lionesses. Then a herd of rams came in, bucking and leaping and attacking the lion pride. A smaller group of lions came out and joined the pride and the lions fought off the rams. Then from the other side of the platform a group of giant paper elephants came to launch an attack and the lions fought them off and forced them back offstage to the cheers of the audience. Then one of the lionesses put a crown upon the lion and he strutted about to and fro. But then another animal scurried out - a rat. The rat went scurrying about here and there and kept whispering and squeaking strange words into the lion's ear. One of the lionesses, who also wore a small crown atop her head came to stand beside him and the rat began biting at the queenly lioness's tail. Boos and cursing came up from the crowd at the sight of the rat. Ochorus gave his friend a knowing look which the other man returned.
"They are bold to do this."
"Indeed." The lion then pushed the lioness away until she eventually left. The rat scampered around in glee, hitting and harranging her until she disappeared in the back of the stage. Then, from the other side of the stage entered another lioness, but this lioness looked markedly different from the others of the pride. She had glowing eyes and was a pale, odd color and she was studded in jewels. The lion became bewitched by this new creature and the rat ran around them both, squeaking. The lion roared and all his pride came forward onto the stage again. He snatched the crown from the first lioness and put it upon this new lioness and made her queen. Then the lion went off to war. The new queen of the pride and the rat conspired with divination rites to kill the king lion and then a voice from the back of the stage said:"Behold! The king is dead!" Then the queen lioness roared and her own pride came out and they dragged out the former pride and killed them and then the body of the dead king was dragged on to the stage and his crown taken. She threw off her own crown and took his up and the rat placed it upon her head and she was lifted up on the shoulders of her pride as queen of all. And then the play ended.
What this managed to do was stir up feelings of hatred and tribal pride that were simmering below the surface.
"The foreign queen is a witch and a demon!"
"Down with the demon queen!"
"That Egian woman! What good can come from Egi?"
"She and her lover Bakku killed the king!" It was inevitable. And this last comment was especially dangerous. Ochorus saw one of his own brotherhood below quietly leave. The queen would surely hear about it before dawn.
. . .
Queen Taliat was unusually irritable, having just came back from a long and difficult trip. Many people had to be executed for treason before leaving Egi. Her own people! But she had the precious bones. They were being ground down into a powder and would be placed in the special marble and silver funerary urn she'd set aside for this purpose. And there were so many other things to do. A musician played his lyre softly in the corner and the lilting notes calmed her rage, somewhat. Bakku entered the queen's private dining r
oom with a new set of blueprints in his hand.
"Your Greatness, the hunstman is here to see you." She waved him in. She was having a light meal and going over plans to expand the palace when he arrived. He bowed low.
"Yes?" She said without looking up, continuing to eat. Bakku gazed at him expectantly. The huntsman stood at the doorway.
"I have news you might find of interest. I have it from one of my sources that treason is simmering against you in the city." Treason! That word, treason! She looked up immediately. He went on.
"A popular place called the The Stage is performing some sort of Rurrian amusement, a theater or play, as they say in the western lands. Some play called The King of the Desert. It accuses Your Greatness of murder of the king. The people at these plays are calling you a usurper and a demon who has committed treason against King Khalit and murder." He waited in silence after this. Her face turned from deathly white to scarlet and then purple and her eyes blazed with fire. She shook ever so slightly. Then composed herself.
"They make me a laughingstock. They dare accuse me? It has been a long time since I have had anyone impaled upon a stake. Perhaps the people have forgotten the bitter taste of correction. Go back and you and your sources find everyone involved with that - play - and you bring them to me, including the owner of this theater. You find all those who spoke against me."
"I would add, my queen, that some of these accusations and lies have started among certain, urbane, dramatic artists."
"The Rurrians and Pallanonians? Perhaps it is time to rid the land of these people. I will give them a choice. They bring me their children or I will have them and all their families impaled." The huntsman bowed, turned on his heel and left quickly.
"Well done, my queen. What evil lurks in the hearts of some people! You know where this is truly coming from, Your Greatness?"
"It's that damnable Ilim and his evil prophecies. When I finally get my hands on that sorcerer he will regret the day he ever spoke against me. From the beginning he has worked to turn the people against me. The luti king let him alone for too long and he has grown like a canker in Hybron, poisoning the well of goodwill. People actually believe the word of Ilim. No matter all that I have done for the people, no matter all the schools I have opened in the land and in Egi, the charity I have given from my coffers, the progress I bring and the wealth I bring, they abuse my name."
"Our ancient forebears acquired wealth through constant conquest. Perhaps we need a war, Your Greatness. They would not have time to amuse themselves if the land was at war." Said Bakku.
"That was a different time, when empires were first being formed. It would seem all the world that is worth conquering is conquered. And besides, war costs too much ladre Bakku. And too many men that can be put to better use in the mines or building projects. Or offered to the goddesses. I am a builder, not a warrior."
"All the good in the world does nothing for anyone when the evil of lies are spread. He is a prophet, Your Greatness. And you yourself have said that you need him because of his great powers. It does not surprise me that people believe in him. What you need is a trap, my queen." She smiled.
"You have wanted to get your hands upon him for a long time, like me, haven't you?" Bakku nodded. Her heart filled with glee. It was as if Bakku was her long lost brother, one that she could plot with and confide in. Which was why she indulged him so.
"Do you have an idea?" She asked. "Tell me, dear Bakku."
"I do."
"When I see to this rabble that are defaming me in the streets, I will hear this plan. When my hunstman comes back, tell him that all of the people he has found must be brought to the palace dungeons, except the owner of the theater and the one who came up with this so-called play. Bring these before me and I will await them in the throne room. It has been too long since I have made an example of anyone in Jhis. Bring me paper. The death warrants shall be written up and signed now." She turned back towards her work and held out her hand for the new palace blueprints. He handed them to her.
"Also, go and tell Setimet to bring the elixir. It is again time for it." She glanced at her skin, flawlessly smooth like marble and even paler now than before, like alabaster. In a certain light and angle to it her skin seemed faintly iridescent. Only the faintest. It was odd and fascinating, the transformation. She had not aged in all the years since she had come to Hybron. It was nearly as if time stood still and she did not need Lady Sawda like her mother or her father did. She had found her own elixir. The drink. She thought in pride. It was preparing the way for her.
"Yes, Your Greatness. It is a wise thing you do." Bakku's eyes shined with malice at the thought of eventually facing Ilim at his execution. Ilim would not be executed like any common criminal nor like a nobleman. The queen had something special in store for him.
. . .
She had commanded all her courtiers, the priesthood of the Golden Temple and the important officials of the city to be here to make an example of the insolence. She was dressed in her silver finery and her silver and blue robe, clutching her flail and her serpent scepter, sitting between the two red lions, a familiar enough sight, but which now there were entwined around them the royal serpents of Egium in reference to the prophecy about her, the serpent of Egi. Yet these luti would make her sacred self a mockery. She heard the fall of heavy footsteps outside the doors. The captain of the palace guard came in and he bowed low before her.
"Bring them before me." They were dragged in. The owner and the actors of the troupe were shoved to the center of the throne room and forced down. She stared down at them as if they were insects to be smashed. They quivered pitifully before her. One of them began to plead.
"Please Your Greatness, I meant no insult-"
"Silence! I gave you no leave to speak. Speak again and I will cut out your tongue. Who is the one that created this treachery against me? Be truthful and I shall be merciful." She softened her voice. At this one of the actors stood up on quaking legs.
"We did not know that such a little thing would cause Her Greatness pain. We did not mean it or intend it. For as to any meaning there is none against you, Your Greatness. We meant nothing by it at all. Only a little thing, a little amusement." His Rurrian accent was heavy.
Foreign pig!
"Only a little thing." She said. "My people tell me that the crowd there began calling me a witch and a sorceress, that I committed treason against the king. What little thing would cause such accusations against a queen? To injure her reputation? To rebel against Her Greatness and try to bring down her kingdom itself?"
"Why, no Your Greatness, never! We only meant jollity and fun. We never meant any harm to anyone. Please forgive us." She smiled.
"So you say. But words can topple a kingdom. It is the smallest things that can cause the greatest harm. Do you know the work of poisons? There are many poisons. Some work swiftly, and others slowly. Some can make a man seem as if he has died of natural causes and others can torture one by putrefying and eating the flesh slowly from the inside out, causing great agony. Some of the cruelest and most destructive poisons taste sweet or have no taste at all. They appear as little things. So it is with ideas and words that can spread that are untrue. They spread like a plague. Lies that seem like truth. Once rooted they destroy a civilization from the inside out but you cannot see it because it works slowly, like certain poisons." She turned her attention to the theater owner who was on his knees, his head to the ground praying silently. His lips moved furiously. Sweat poured off his brow and his hair was plastered with sweat.
"You! You have allowed this play to go on for a long time. I hear it is not the first time it was performed in your establishment. You are just as guilty as they."
"Oh yes, Your Greatness, I am guilty of this offense though I did not know that they meant any insult to Your Greatness. I beseech you give me mercy, oh great queen! I do beg your forgiveness!" He cried. She sat back and then stamped her scepter against the floor of the dais. She looked at the men gro
veling before her, from one to the other and then gave an order to the guard.
"Impale these men. All of them." At that they wailed in terror and one tried to run but was tripped by a staff by one of the guards and caught. They were all dragged away, screaming and shouting piteously. She looked around at her court, feeling more relaxed.
"This is a lesson to any who insult Her Greatness and the majesty belonging to her. To insult the queen is to insult the goddesses of Jhis and Egium. I married a man who was set here by the Hand of God and I too shall ascend to godhood. Who of the gods accepts such disrespect amongst their worshipers? So I shall not accept such insult to me. I will not stand for it." A loud murmur of approval rose from the court. The queen rose and left with her train of ladies and closest advisers. She stopped and turned suddenly as if she had forgotten something.
"Oh. Yes. I do forgive them their wicked acts against me. As their blood will spill, Nimnet and Elyshe have given me leave to do so. They are now forgiven."
. . .
These men, thirty-five in all, including the owner of the theater were impaled alive on pointed stakes and set before the palace the next day. Most of the city had gathered to watch, many with approval, some with even greater hatred for the queen than before and all in great fear. Ochorus began to feel sick. Especially after having to turn their families out into the street and taking the children to the temple of Nimnet.
The queen commanded.
That was always his excuse. The queen commanded. He knew what lay in store for those children. He knew. He thought of his own daughter and he felt boxed in a cage of fear and frustration. Seldom had he felt the emotion of fear. He did not know what to do with it. Usually he instilled fear in others. If he did not do what he was told he would find himself hanging on a stake. How did he know his own daughter was truly safe? Years ago he had been promised a position in the court for a price, his first child to the temple of Nimnet. He'd lied and said that he had no children and he worried constantly that someone would find out. He served a monstrous demon and he could no longer ignore that fact. He had to find a way to get out of here and to get his daughter out of the city. How? He would think of something.
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