Stonecutter's Story

by Fred Saberhagen

  “Perhaps not so foolish. Whether or not they were aware of what part they were playing, they served admirably to distract the authorities from the real rescue effort.”

  “And their partial destruction of the gallows—”

  “Made its rebuilding necessary. And the hammering sounds occasioned by that covered the thudding sounds emitted by Stonecutter as the tunnel was dug up to the prisoner’s cell. Yes, all in all, a very well-organized escape.”

  “You implied, earlier, that there was a second reason why the escape might very well succeed?”

  “There is. I doubt that the Hetman will push his search for Benjamin as hard as he might, now that the escape is an accomplished fact, and he’s had a chance to think matters over.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Of course his pride was touched by the escape. But now that he has at least hints from the Prince that Benjamin’s continued survival pleases him, and pleases certain other powerful people as well, it is not an unmixed curse. Perhaps by now al-Farabi has even had time to suggest that allowing poor farmers to vote on matters that concern them greatly might render the task of the radical revolutionary more difficult.”

  “I can see that this custom of voting might ultimately present a great threat to any ruler.”

  “Indeed. I am not sure that either of the Princes has thought that far ahead himself … in any case, I expect the Hetman is still making a real effort to recapture his victim. He is just not pressing that effort as urgently as he possibly could.”

  “Well, I repeat that I join you in hoping that he does not succeed.”

  “We shall see.”

  “And you are sure that Prince al-Farabi shares our hopes.”

  “My dear Kasimir, I am very sure of that. Almost from the very beginning I suspected that might be his position. The Prince is a worthy man, though there are times when he displays a lamentable tendency to overact.”

  “Did you mean to say ‘overreact,’ Magistrate?”

  “I meant to say just what I said. I only wish that there were many other princes who had no worse faults.”

  “The implication being, of course, that Prince al-Farabi has been taking a leading role in all this theatrical performance with Stonecutter.”

  The Magistrate nodded. “Some days ago I became convinced—it was a gradual conviction—that the original theft of the Sword from your caravan’s encampment was only a deception, intended to prevent suspicion falling on the two good Princes, Mark and al-Farabi, when it became known that Stonecutter had been used to effect the escape of the prisoner Benjamin.”

  “My own conviction on that point was much more sudden, but I fear that it took place much later than yours. Tell me, how did yours begin?”

  “It began with an oddity. With an event that at first seemed not only inexplicable but meaningless—I refer, of course, to the cutting of the double slit in your tent wail.”

  “Ah.”

  “Yes. From the moment you reported that puzzling detail, I suspected that all was not as it seemed regarding the theft of the Sword. Yet the more I talked to you, the more firmly I was convinced that you were telling me the truth as you saw it.”

  “Indeed I was. I see now that I had been recruited and used without my knowledge; that it was arranged from the start that I should be a witness to the supposed crime.”

  “And the best kind of witness. Respectable, believable, while at the same time—forgive me, Kasimir—not overly imaginative. Honest and disinterested, a young man who would have no reason to lie about anything he saw or heard. And the plan to use you as a witness of course succeeded—even though the ‘thief’ had to make more than one slash in the tent wall to wake you up.”

  “Ah!” said Kasimir, and shook his head, remembering. “But suppose I had wakened at the first whisper of sound inside the tent, and grappled with the intruder?”

  “Then there would have ensued noise, shouting, a general alarm. I do not doubt that within moments the tent would have been filled with struggling bodies. Somehow, in the confusion, you would have been pinned down while the thief contrived to make his escape with the Sword. Doubtless his success would have been ascribed to magic.”

  Kasimir thought about it briefly. “No doubt you are right,” he said.

  “Yes, I have no doubt of it. If ever we have the chance to talk all this over freely with al-Farabi, he will, I am sure, tell us that the man who took the Sword that night was one of the most trusted members of the caravan, wearing a mask so that you should not recognize him. If you had noticed his absence after the Sword was gone, you would have been told that he was one of the party sent out into the desert to try to track the thief.”

  “No doubt,” said Kasimir again. He let out a faint sigh.

  “But as matters actually went, you did not jump up and grapple with the intruder. Instead you watched, still half asleep, as he extracted the Sword from the pile of baggage and made off with it. Moments later the alarm was sounded on schedule. The plan was off to a good start.

  “The next step it called for was the freeing of an important prisoner from the road-building gang—I suppose he was someone who knew the layout of the prison cells within the palace, so that a tunnel could be dug out within the narrow compass of the walls. Another person with knowledge just as good must have been found eventually, or the plan could not have succeeded.

  “But the prisoner was freed as planned, from Lednik’s rather sloppy control. And then things immediately began to go wrong.

  “The problem was that the two men who were now carrying the Sword began to improvise. Their next step ought to have been simply to carry Stonecutter into the city and deliver it to Natalia and her people, who were waiting for it. They would have been able to start digging the tunnel at once, with a good margin of spare time before the morning when the execution was scheduled. That would have avoided the need for last-moment heroics, and an escape completed barely minutes before dawn on Festival morning.

  “But instead—sudden improvisation. For some reason the two decided to detour to the stone quarry, and release another comrade imprisoned there. There would have been certain advantages in being able to enter the city three strong instead of only two. And perhaps the prisoner at the quarry was a special friend of one or the other of those who were carrying the Sword.

  “But those two had not reckoned with Foreman Kovil. That red-haired man was of a very different stamp from the easygoing boss of the road gang. Kovil was not only greedy and ruthless, but treacherous, bold, and resolute as well. When the Sword was shown to him he saw in it a chance to trade the life of a petty prison tyrant for that of a wealthy and successful adventurer; and to seize that chance he did not scruple to commit a double murder.

  “He had no real chance, of course, of being able to keep his crime a secret from the other men at the quarry, guards and prisoners alike. But those who knew the secret had no reason to reveal it, and every reason to cooperate with the man who still held their lives in his hands. Mere silence was not enough; Kovil needed a couple of more active accomplices, both in the killing and afterward, when he took the Sword into the city to convert it into more useful wealth.

  “He thought his second-in-command, Umar, would do to mind the quarry until the sale of the Sword should have been somehow completed. But he needed and wanted one more man. Someone to stand with him and protect his back while he negotiated the secret sale of a tremendous stolen treasure. And then Kovil made his own fatal mistake. Though probably from the start there was no doubt in his mind as to which man he would choose for a job like that.”

  “The Juggler,” said Kasimir, and shuddered faintly.

  “Indeed. Kovil went into the city with Stonecutter in hand, and the Juggler at his back, and tried to sell the Sword. Whatever might have been the details of that first bloody skirmish on the waterfront, when it was over only one man was left alive—the Juggler, with the Sword of Siege now in his own hands. In one way or another Kovil had fallen victim to th
e same treachery he had dealt out to others.”

  “Meanwhile,” Kasimir put in, “Natalia and her people had been expecting the Sword to be brought to them. And when it failed to arrive—”

  “They became alarmed. Then they heard about the killings on the waterfront, probably from someone who had actually seen the Sword in the Juggler’s hands. And they knew that he had it and would almost certainly be trying to sell it quickly.”

  “And when did you come to an understanding of all this, Magistrate?”

  “Alas, with painful slowness! At the start of course I came into the situation by accident, and through your efforts to be helpful. Al-Farabi could scarcely refuse my help, but he sent his most trusted subordinate into the city with us to keep an eye on us.

  “As soon as I learned that the prisoner freed from the road gang was political, and that a connection was implied between him and Benjamin of the Steppe, I thought I understood the beginning of the story. After seeing al-Farabi at that conference in the palace, where he seemed more genuinely worried than before, I was sure of it. Since I sympathized with Benjamin, and with Princes Mark and al-Farabi, my task then became not simply to find the Sword, but to cause it to be used according to the original scenario, before being returned to its rightful owner.”

  “The original plan being of course to free Benjamin.”

  “Of course.”

  “And when did you tell the Prince that you had discovered his deception?”

  “That came a little later. In beggar’s guise I also managed to establish contact with Natalia and her group. I persuaded her to loan me the Sword for a few hours to get rid of Valamo, who had learned of the tunnel into the prison and was threatening to reveal it to the authorities—unless he was paid off very handsomely.

  “I dared not try to trick him unless I could have the real Sword in hand to do so—but I could not explain its presence to you ahead of time. Hence my sleight of hand substitution.”

  “You might have taken me into your confidence completely.”

  “It is natural that you should be bitter. But I could not be sure of your reaction … at any rate, my task became much easier, once we had got Valamo out of the way.

  There was nothing to do with such a man in such a situation, except to kill him.”

  Wen Chang looked grim for a long moment, then his features relaxed. “Once the Juggler had been removed from the game board, and the Sword was back in the tunnel-diggers’ hands, it was not hard to distract everyone for a few necessary hours with fears of a Blue Temple robbery. In return for my help, Natalia agreed to finally return the Sword to me in the rather impressively dramatic manner that you all witnessed.”

  “She is a remarkable young woman.”

  “She is indeed.”

  And now both men fell silent. The little cavalcade they led was now closely approaching one of the great land gates of the city. It was in fact the same gate by which they had entered Eylau only a few days ago. Just ahead, troopers of the Watch were probing with lances and swords into a wagonload of refuse that was being hauled out of the city.

  Kasimir whispered a question. “I wonder—will he manage to get out?”

  Wen Chang made no reply. The refuse wagon was moving on, and now it was their turn to ride up to the gate. The Watch officer who was in charge saluted the imposing figure of the Magistrate, held brief conversation with him, and then reached into the guard post at the center of the gateway to get a copy of the roster of recent travelers.

  He consulted the list, then once more faced Wen Chang respectfully. “Yes sir, here you are—the merchant Ching Hao and party, fourteen men in all.” Swiftly but accurately the officer counted. “Pass on.”

  Kasimir rode on out through the gate without turning in his saddle to glance behind him. He rode on without looking back, though he could remember perfectly well that when the little column left the inn there had been only ten uniformed troopers riding behind Lieutenant Komi. One man, the lieutenant had said, had fallen ill while visiting his relatives in the Desert Quarter, and would be rejoining his unit later.

  So, counting the officer, Wen Chang, and Kasimir himself, that ought to make a company of thirteen men in all. And now there were fourteen. But Kasimir was not going to turn around and look. Not for nothing had he spent the last few days in the company of Wen Chang.

  About The Author

  Fred Saberhagen is widely published in many areas of speculative fiction. He is best known for his Berserker, Swords, and Dracula series. Less known are the myth based fantasies: Books of the Gods. Fred also authored a number of non-series fantasy and science fiction novels and a great number of short stories. For more information on Fred visit his website: www.fredsaberhagen.com

  Table of Contents

  Copyright Page

  The Ardneh Sequence

  Sample

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  About The Author