"And that is what you passed on to them? Knowledge of the Horrors?"
"It wasn't me," Ziraldesh began to protest. Already, Cassian was ahead of his confession.
"Aralesh. You passed them on to Aralesh. If you had a student who seemed to have an interest, and enough skill, you passed him or her on to learn more."
"Yes." Ziraldesh looked wholly defeated. "But you don't understand. They were sensitive children. They were curious and intelligent. I believed that they would follow that path anyway and that by learning of such things from Aralesh, at least they would be guided in the right direction."
"But perhaps things did not turn out quite as you hoped."
"No. . .Perhaps. . ." Ziraldesh blurted out. "I don't know. I may have misjudged him."
"He was a member of the Brotherhood also?"
"Yes, he was. But don't forget, he used his knowledge often enough to protect the city. It was reasonable to think he would guide the children along the right lines. I thought I was helping everyone; both the children and the city. I thought I was doing my duty."
It would have sounded self-righteous, save for the man's obvious sincerity. Still Cassian pushed him.
"But you knew something. You had some reason to believe that Aralesh was corrupting them in some way."
"I didn't know until recently," Ziraldesh said. "I still have no reason to believe that Aralesh corrupted them into service of the Horrors, or anything like that."
"Then what was it?" the elf demanded.
"Aralesh had certain indulgences. With respect to matters of the flesh. I. . . I didn't know," Ziraldesh said wretchedly. "He was very cunning, very careful. I think he used magic, and possibly drugs, to suppress any recollections, any evidence. He always appeared firmly opposed to such things and almost wore his membership of the Brotherhood with pride."
"It was known that he was a member? By the powers in this city?"
"Of course it was known. Kypros knew; Ilfaralek knew; Patracheus knew. The Passions alone know how many of them knew. They weren't stupid. They knew that a wizard with such knowledge got it from somewhere and it's a common enough cult among such men."
"And what else did they know?" Cassian wondered aloud, "They knew what he did. With children. And they didn't care. I confronted Ilfaralek with the matter and he just laughed. Told me I was a foolish old man and that when I had firm evidence he would do something about it."
Cassian could imagine the akarenti saying those very words.
'This does not explain why these children have been murdered," Cassian mused. "Nor why their deaths seem to be linked to their parents. By the Passions! Are you telling me that—"
"Yes and no," Ziraldesh said, uncertain. "I am certain that Schavian was not a member of the Brotherhood. He would never have treated his children so. The only case I am sure about is Tarlanth. And his son has not been killed."
For an instant, Cassian wondered if Ilfaralek had not found the right man after all. If Tarlanth had engaged in an orgy of killing to ensure silence, it would explain why his own son still lived. But somehow that still did not feel right.
"Your own son—" he began, but Ziraldesh looked at him, enraged.
"What? You suggest that I abused my own son?"
"No!" the elf said hurriedly. "I just wondered how much he learned from you of the matters Aralesh was teaching the others. Or if Aralesh, indeed, taught him?"
"For a short time," Ziraldesh admitted, "before I had any suspicions about Aralesh. Of course, as soon as I did, I put a stop to it at once. I interrogated him thoroughly. He denied ever having been assaulted by the man. I did not use any covert methods to ascertain the truth from him, though."
Cassian felt momentarily ashamed as he remembered administering the herbs to Jerenn to reassure himself of the boy's truthfulness. Ziraldesh had apparently not been ready to resort to such methods.
"But, to my surprise, Darnius was tutored by him, for some time," Ziraldesh mused. "I had not thought the boy to have any real talent or skill. But I have learned from Aralesh's books that he continued to instruct him. He records payments from Mordain for his tutorage. Likewise, Lyn, Tarlanth's son. That must have been in secret, or at least there are no records of Tarlanth having paid him anything for his time. It was after Tarlanth told me he would not require my services any longer."
"Then that boy is in danger, it would seem," Cassian thought aloud. "Which others were there?"
"In that particular group, none. Schavian's children; Darnius; Lyn; Crielle, though that was some time ago and it just overlaps with the beginning of tutorage for the rest. And Ladamair. Before I put a stop to it."
"And now all of them are dead save for Lyn," Cassian said. "But what of the young woman?"
"What do you mean?"
"I have seen the murderess," Cassian said. He did not mention that Jerenn's description of the young woman who'd walked almost hand in hand with Ladamair into the house where the young man had been slain was identical with the green-eyed figure he'd seen for himself in the Undercity tunnels. "A young woman. Green eyes, with short black hair, fairly tall. I cannot be certain of her age, but she is not long out of her youth."
"I have not seen or heard of such a person/' Ziraldesh said.
"Nighthand and Arlyna," Cassian mused. "Aralesh could have been Nighthand, I suppose. Though I cannot be sure that such a person ever existed. Perhaps it was a useful invention, I don't know. Not that I need bother you with this," he said to the disconcerted wizard, who look baffled at the mention of those names. "There has to have been another. Another pupil. I also believe it's someone who must have had a powerful grudge against Tarlanth, for I remain convinced that the murders of the adults have been organized to point the finger of blame at him. That someone has skills in elementalism and, I suppose, in forgery also. What magical skills did Aralesh possess?"
"He was knowledgeable in the ways of elementalism as well as in the habits and powers of Horrors," Ziraldesh admitted.
"Then who was his seventh pupil?"
"I have no idea," Ziraldesh whined. "Do you not think I would tell you if I knew? Knowing now that my son has been murdered? He was my son," he said desperately as his wife held and hushed him. "As if he had been my own flesh and blood." He clung to Shusala as a drowning man to his last hope of staying afloat.
"Yes, I believe that," Cassian said quietly. He could see the pain of guilt on the man's face as well as the wretchedness of his grief. He will carry the former forever, even if time heals the latter, the elf thought. He is not lying to me.
"I must go," Cassian said suddenly. "I must make sure that Lyn is taken to a place of safety. He must surely be next. Thank you for your frankness."
"If I had only spoken sooner,", the man said wretchedly. "I was afraid that something might happen to me if I told you. Powerful people in this city might not approve of my revealing the Brotherhood to you. I feared for my family!" He clung tight to his quietly weeping wife.
I'm sure you did, Cassian thought; and now look what has happened. He sighed inwardly. As ever, I learn that silence is my greatest enemy.
"Tell me, did Aralesh have knowledge of poisons and venoms?"
"Nothing exceptional, but he did have a good working knowledge," Ziraldesh said, surprised. "Why do you ask?"
"No matter," Cassian said with a shrug. He found his own way out, leaving the grieving pair to console one another as they could.
He made for the markets, just beginning to open now, and took breakfast with hot kokala and a little salted and boiled bacon with fresh, warm bread and superb yellowed butter. Finishing his meal with some of the lightly sweetened stewed fruit that beckoned him from huge, ornate glass sealing jars on a vendor's cart, Cassian wiped at his lips and then set off toward Tarlanth's mansion. Upon arriving, he was surprised to find Lyn already awake, though obviously very fatigued. The boy had dark circles under his eyes, which were reddened as if from prolonged crying. He looked appalling.
"Lyn, I've come to say that
I believe you must be removed from here immediately to a place of safety," the elf insisted.
"I don't want to go," the boy whined.
"I have spoken with Ziraldesh," Cassian began. The boy looked dully at him.
"I know about Aralesh," he went on.
Lyn's eyes flared brilliantly with rage. "Lies! It's all lies! What has that wicked old fool told you? I—"
Cassian took hold of him and shook him by the shoulders. The boy was even lighter than he looked, and felt as if he had no strength in his body. But he threw off the elf's hands furiously and stepped away from him.
"There's no point in denying it," Cassian insisted. "All the others have been murdered. Crielle, Parinth, Insensora, Darnius, now Ladamair. You're next, perhaps saved for last because you may be the one the murderer most wants to kill."
The boy's demeanor changed suddenly. Anger seemed to evaporate from him. Instead of fear, a look almost of resigned calm seemed to come over him.
"I won't go," he said stubbornly.
"Who was Aralesh's seventh pupil?" Cassian asked, changing tack in the hope of defeating Lyn's stubbornness.
"What on earth do you mean?" the boy asked, clearly startled.
"A girl. A young woman, at the least. I believe she may be the murderer," Cassian said. He was unsure whether he should be revealing so much, yet he owed it to the boy to warn him of what his potential assassin might look like.
"I don't really remember," the boy said thoughtfully. "There were one or two others, sometimes. But I was ill from time to time and I don't remember. I don't remember!" The voice became a whine again.
"It's all right," Cassian said, taking care not to lay hands on the boy again. "But you absolutely must go. Ilfaralek could put you up somewhere safe at the Southern Barracks. No one could get at you there."
The boy visibly retreated, shrinking back. "Not there, I won't go!"
"You must, you fool," Cassian snapped. "Stay here and you will be killed for sure."
"Shut up," the boy shrieked with a sudden violent emphasis. "I've been imprisoned here by my father all my life. For the first time ever I have some freedom, for all that the soldiers only allow me part of the house. I don't want to be put in prison."
"You wouldn't be in prison," Cassian pleaded.
"It would be as good as," the boy said defiantly.
In truth it would, Cassian admitted to himself. Not only that, but he had just been told that Ilfaralek knew and ignored knowledge of the mistreatment of the children. Ilfaralek's care was not the best into which he could deliver this young soul, was it?
"Very well," he said, calming down. "But I will have the guards doubled and I shall request that a wizard be posted here for your protection. You are, I believe, in extreme danger. Tell me, Lyn. . .surely your father has properties away from the city," he suggested as a final gambit. "Can't you go away for a few days until we discover who is responsible for what's been happening?"
"My father's properties have all been confiscated."
"Ah, indeed." Cassian rubbed at the back of his head. "Well, I suppose I've done everything I can." He would have to talk to Tarlanth about the magical protections laid on the house. "I will instruct the soldiers that absolutely no one is to be admitted into this house as a visitor. Unless there is someone you are expecting?"
"Like whom?" the boy said. When Cassian didn't answer, he added quietly, "There is nobody."
"No, perhaps not," Cassian said, feeling desperately sorry for the friendless youth. Perhaps he had sought companionship in Aralesh's circle of pupils, only to have that cruelly betrayed. For a moment the elf considered asking the boy's cousin to look in on him, and then thought that Patracheus would hardly be well-disposed to the problems of Tarlanth's household under the circumstances. Until his mother returned to take charge of the household, the boy was alone here, but Cassian consoled himself that Ilfaralek would not detain her too long.
He had Tarlanth, and he was the one Ilfaralek wanted.
He left and made his way back south, through the rapidly growing number of people in the streets. Construction was now going ahead at all due speed on the podiums and nested benches and platforms around the Ziggurats, preparing for Kypros's annual self-indulgent celebration of the joys and splendor of Vivane as he considered them to be. At length, Cassian arrived back at the barracks, and was shown into the room where an obviously exhausted Ilfaralek was grappling with an increasingly dense pile of papers on his desk.
"Half the city seems to consider itself under imminent threat of being swamped by burglars, pickpockets, tinkers, and the like," the akarenti grumbled. "Damn it all, take this rubbish away." He pushed a huge pile of papers in the direction of a hapless lieutenant. "Take it to Lieutenant Ak'kajkriss. I've decided to delegate this."
"It was only yesterday that you requested I make sure that—" the officer began.
"Yes, yes, I know," Ilfaralek snapped. "And now I've changed my mind, so get out of here and do what you're told."
He turned to Cassian. "Now what do you want?" he growled. "Look, before you ask, yes, I did send men outside the walls. No, we didn't find any body. But we did find a great deal of blood and I dare say something happened. Unfortunately the place has been broken into and ransacked. There was a small pile of burned wood, so someone probably used the furniture to keep away the cold of the night. And there are plenty of people out there who would be only too happy to strip the clothes from a corpse and no few of 'em evil enough to sink low enough to actually eat one as well."
"I have come on another matter," Cassian said.
"What now?"
"Do you plan to detain Cryselda much longer?"
"Perhaps another twelve hours. It's necessary for protocol in such matters. I doubt I shall get more than a few corroborating details from her," Ilfaralek said offhandedly.
"Twelve hours? Then I urgently request additional security at Tarlanth's home. I must also request that a wizard be deputed to keep a permanent watch on the place. I do have the powers to insist on this, akarenti," the elf added hastily, seeing the man apparently about to protest. "I have good reason to believe that Tarlanth's son may be killed next unless we protect him. I have learned that he and the other young victims"—and he listed them-—"were members of a certain group. I do not wish to divulge the nature of that group nor where I learned of it. However, I must insist on this matter. And I will put it in writing here and now if necessary."
Ilfaralek looked at him, annoyed. He knew perfectly well that the praetor could make such a demand and that anyone refusing could be held responsible for obstructing him in the course of his duties, and that would mean automatic dismissal from his post. He could not refuse to comply because it would weaken the security of the city, the one escape clause to which he might have had recourse.
"You'd better have a damned good reason," Ilfaralek growled.
"Thank you, akarenti." Cassian smiled sweetly and departed. Back outside, he found the day already growing unseasonably warm. The sky was cloudless and the sun shone down fiercely, promising a bakingly hot afternoon. He yawned and stretched, realizing that he was quite stiff after his sojourn at the Ziggurats.
I would do well to take a warm bath and rub these muscles with methara oil, he thought. I'm more tired than I thought. From here he would walk back to the Rose Villa, which might help loosen some of the kinks in his tense body.
After relaxing in his bath he let the warm, light oil flow over the skin of his back and felt the stinging sensation burn into the knotted muscles, its absorption eased by the bathing. He yawned again, his eyes tired by the brilliance of the morning sunlight and his legs heavy and leaden. He needed a nap, an hour or two, nothing more, he thought.
So, after toweling the last of the excess oil from his skin, Cassian wrapped himself in his silk robe and wandered back to his bedroom. Pulling only a single sheet over his body, he settled his head on the pillow and fell almost instantly asleep.
33
Cassian woke ju
st once, not long after falling sleep, disturbed by an image of Ziraldesh, sitting alone before his wife had come to him, distraught as he learned of the death of his son. The image filled Cassian with sadness and a sudden jolt of fear that awakened him momentarily.
Though his sleep was not broken again, his dreams disturbed him nonetheless. Afterwards he most vividly recalled the image of the two young elves, so alike, the brother and sister preternaturally similar even for twins. Cassian felt something wrong with the effeminacy of the boy, a lurking sense of unnaturalness that had nothing to do with any deep-rooted prejudice on his part. At last, he woke with a residual foreboding and an unsettled feeling bordering on anxiety. He was cold too, shivering slightly as he hurriedly pulled on his clothes. He wanted to check on young Lyn again.
Downstairs, he walked into the kitchens and found one of the maids lifting a roasted joint of meat from the stove. He sniffed appreciatively at the odor.
"A bit heavy for the midday meal, but I think I could manage it," he said cheerfully. She looked at him askance.
"It's dinner time, sir."
His jaw dropped. Opening the back door to the win-dowless kitchen, he saw it was dark outside.
"Good heavens! How long have I been asleep?"
"About ten hours, sir. Jerenn said not to disturb you. He said you needed sleep."
"Did he? Presumptuous little wretch, where is he? Not out for the evening again, is he? I'll give him a—"
"No, sir. He's around somewhere."
"Well," the elf went on, angry with himself now, "just give me a slice of that in some bread. I shall have to be going out." The cook looked rather crestfallen, and Cassian hastily assured her that he'd much rather stay and eat. In truth, it was difficult not to look at the juicy haunch without some regret at not being able to sit down and enjoy a hearty serving.
Shadowrun - [Earthdawn 05] - Shroud of Madness Page 25