The Empire of the Zon

by R. M. Burgess

  “Quite so,” he said. He stood and walked up to the fire and warmed his hands for a few moments. He spoke over his shoulder. “And what of the alliance of Pragarina Enterprises with the Hilsons?”

  “Alliances shift with the fortunes of war,” said Darbeni delicately. “Leaders must be pragmatic if they want their houses to survive.”

  HEBE OPENED A comm channel to Diana.

  “We have the Matalus army on our scanners,” she said. “They are less than a day’s march to Dreslin Center.”

  “I will be on the bridge momentarily,” said Diana. “Let us open a comm channel to Resident Lady Selene. We should get the latest intelligence on the Hilsons’ buildup.”

  A few moments later, Hebe and Diana were on the bridge together with Lady Selene on the holographic platform.

  “We will shortly be making contact with Baron Marnus Matalus of the Northern Marches,” said Diana. “His son Horus has declared his support for us. That, in addition to the fact that Karsk is in the hands of Lothar’s Utreans, should be enough to turn him to our side. We may also use some gold—he is notoriously greedy. How many men has Hilson amassed so far in Dreslin?”

  “Nearly a hundred and forty thousand,” said Lady Selene, looking her usual unruffled self. “He has us besieged in the Residency by a crowd of women and children that are led by some Thermadan fundamentalists. They conceal some men-at-arms in their midst, and we have had to endure hundreds of fire arrows. We had a bit of an incident as one of our huntresses inadvertently set some of these wretched women alight. We have video evidence proving that the fire arrow was loosed by one of their men-at-arms, but they will never believe us.”

  “Is the Residency in any danger?” asked Diana.

  “Not as yet,” replied Lady Selene.

  “The siege of Aurora has been broken, and the Hilson army there has been routed,” said Diana. “I have ordered Captain Rhea to bring the Hydromeda and rendezvous with the Thetis over the Brigon Residency. We will use the combined firepower of the two airships to overawe the barbarians. It would be very helpful if we could split more barons off from the Hilsons. The fewer barons that remain, the more likely they are to desert in the face of overwhelming force. This is particularly important since we will not be able to maintain our aerial presence over Dreslin for long. Captain Rhea complains that she is low on power and would like to return to Atlantic City as soon as possible to recharge.”

  “Let me see what I can do,” said Lady Selene. Diana bowed, and Hebe followed suit. Diana had always respected Lady Selene’s competence. She would make an excellent queen, thought Diana. With Deirdre gone, there is no one to rival her sagacity, judgment, and instincts.

  As the comm channel was cut and Lady Selene’s image faded away, Diana turned to Hebe.

  “Let us wait on Her Majesty,” she suggested. “I would like to discuss the procedure for dealing with Baron Marnus Matalus with her.”

  Hebe nodded agreement. A short while later, they were admitted to the command stateroom and sat with Hildegard and Andromache at the conference table there. Alex was waiting on the queen and served steaming mugs of katsch. Without preamble, Diana began.

  “I have prepped Horus,” she said. “I propose to debark with two centuries—a century of Guardians under the command of Centuria Lady Alexandra as well as a century under the command of Centuria Ling Mae. Does Your Majesty wish to lead the party?”

  “I suspect that would be giving the House of Matalus a bit too much respect,” said Andromache. “A Marcher baron, even one as important as Matalus, would not rate anything more than a cornelle in normal times. In fact, it was Cornelle Diana who placed Marnus in the Matalus barony, wasn’t it?”

  Diana nodded.

  “That is true,” said Hildegard. “But he is more important to us now…especially as I wish to offer him the dukedom of the Northern Marches.”

  No one around the table was very surprised. The current conflict called for a complete liquidation of the House of Hilson, and the House of Matalus was the most prominent of the Marcher baronies.

  “I will go,” volunteered Andromache.

  “And I will wait on you, High Priestess,” said Diana, bowing her head. “I am sure that together we will make Baron Marnus Matalus see the advantages of returning to our vassalage. Cheval Horus Matalus will be present, and I personally guarantee that he will be supporting us most enthusiastically. I think the good baron cannot fail to see how easily he could be replaced.”

  Andromache was gratified by Diana’s show of subservience.

  “Together we cannot fail,” she said, smiling. “I hope that we can accomplish our aims without violence.”

  “I promise that we will not shoot first,” responded Diana.

  OSTRACIS WAS IN flames again, but this time the residents were out in the streets, cheering the new victors. Overhead a squadron of airboats circled, probing the citadel with their bright searchlights. Every now and then there was a heavy ’grator blast as they located skulking members of the Skull Watch.

  The support of the airboats made the outcome a forgone conclusion. They blasted more breaches in the walls and debarked a century in Upper Town. The Skull Watchmen were caught between the two centuries of fierce Engine Maidens. While they had the advantage of numbers, they no longer had any functioning ’grators or laser pistols. The Maidens delighted in their new weaponry and fought with gusto.

  Durga had given orders to capture as many of the Watchmen as possible alive. She sat now in the ruined reception hall of the Keep, flanked by Elena. Several dozen captives were in front of her, all in force restraints. They stood in sullen silence and some of them were whimpering softly, for the Maidens had already vaporized a few limbs to make sure they kept their mouths shut.

  There was the ping of a comm channel. Durga opened it. It was Brendel Nevisina from one of the airboats circling overhead.

  “First Maiden Durga,” she said. “We have completed scans of the citadel. We cannot find any more men of the Skull Watch. I ask permission to withdraw the squadron and return to the Thetis.”

  Durga grunted.

  “I guess Cornelle Diana did say that she was loaning me a squadron,” she grumbled. “You have done well; you may withdraw. I will send a commendation to the cornelle.”

  “I hear and obey, First Maiden,” said Brendel, her voice bright and cheerful as usual. “It has been a pleasure working with you. We are delighted to have the Ostracis Citadel back in the hands of the Sisterhood.”

  “It is in the hands of the Engine Maidens,” said Durga darkly. “If the government wants it back, they will have to meet my terms. You tell the queen that.”

  “I will convey your message, First Maiden,” said Brendel, less brightly now.

  Just as Brendel cut the comm channel, Ielani entered with her ’grator hanging from a shoulder strap. Its barrel was discolored with flash marks—it was hot and gave off steam in the cold night air. She had a wide grin on her face.

  “We have finished the mopping up, First Maiden,” she said, coming forward. “The last of the Watchmen have surrendered. We have yet another captain and ten more men in custody. But they tell the same story as all the others. Nestar Crogus and his senior captain, Guttanar, have escaped us. They rode out some time ago, apparently to join Shobar in the Great Ice Range.”

  Durga struck her palm with her fist in frustration.

  “Of all the bad luck!” she exclaimed. “I suppose it must be true; they can’t all be telling the same lie. I was so looking forward to roasting him!”

  She looked from Elena to Ielani grimly.

  “The others will have to do. Organize a victory parade with the prisoners in restraints. Send a herald around Upper and Lower Towns and make an announcement on the comm. Any Ostracis resident that wants to have their way with the prisoners—let them do anything they want! It is time for revenge. The parade will end back at Upper Town Square. We’ll roast all the surviving prisoners there.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT


  THE MAIN CAVERNS in the Great Ice Range had existed long before Shobar’s men arrived to develop newer workings. They honeycombed the mountain and made up a complex maze of caves, caverns, and passageways. Even after ten years, only a small fraction of the labyrinth had been explored. Shobar’s men had organized a section of the underground network of interlinked chambers into quarters for his army. Caves had been prepared and set aside for the king, his senior commanders, and his ministers. Each regiment was quartered in a large cavern. Food and drink had been laid in, and cooking and washing facilities had been prepared. An underground stream had been diverted to provide water.

  Nestar Crogus had just arrived, and he was shown into the king’s suite of caves. They were led into a cave that had been set up as an audience chamber with a crudely fashioned masthead throne hewn from a boulder. Guttanar followed him and stood behind him in deference.

  “You took your time getting here,” said Shobar petulantly, rising from the makeshift throne.

  “We rode hard, Your Majesty,” said Nestar, meek in the presence of his king. “But the weather was terrible. We came through two whiteouts and lost five men.”

  “His Majesty has been very anxious to see you,” said Katog. “You have kept him waiting.”

  Guttanar’s face went white with anxiety, and even Nestar looked worried.

  “We can only throw ourselves at your feet, trusting your mercy, my liege,” he said, dropping to his knees. Guttanar did likewise. “We are yours, and you may do with us as you will.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Shobar impatiently. “I do not doubt your fealty. However, now that you are on your knees, I can raise you to the title I promised. You have received your warrant. Now let me dub you.”

  He drew his sword and quickly tapped Nestar on each shoulder.

  “Rise, Baron of Steefen,” he said loudly.

  Nestar rose with a wide smile on his face. Shobar put his hands on his shoulders and said, “Baron Nestar Crogus, you have been my trusted right hand for many years. Now you will come with me and see the basis for our conquest of Utrea, Briga, and then all of Tarsus. Katog, summon a troop of the Skull Watch to wait on us.”

  Nestar shot Katog a triumphant look and was pleased to see him looking uncomfortable. He may be First Minister, Nestar thought. But I am clearly the king’s favorite.

  A troop of the Skull Watch marched in, paid their reverences to Shobar, and then saluted Nestar, their commander.

  “Katog, see that no one follows us,” said Shobar.

  With that, he led the way out of his suite. Nestar and Guttanar followed him, and the troop of the Skull Watch came behind them.

  “Once we are beyond our prepared caverns, make sure that no one sees us,” said Shobar over his shoulder to Nestar and his men. “If you see anyone spying on us, kill them.”

  They all nodded their acquiescence. Nestar led the way without hesitation, passing several large caverns filled with troops going about their daily business. Everyone stopped to kneel and salute as they passed, but Shobar ignored everyone, single-minded in his quest.

  Soon they entered a wide passageway that led away from the prepared workings, and the going became rougher. Rocks and boulders were strewn in their path, and they had to pick their way carefully. It quickly grew pitch dark as the torches of the prepared caverns receded behind them. Shobar called to one of the men-at-arms of the Skull Watch to bring him a torch. The man drew several from a pack and lit them. Handing the first one to the king, he passed others to Nestar, Guttanar, and some of his fellows. Now armed with illumination, they resumed their trek.

  The passageway sloped upward, gently at first and then steeper and steeper. They came upon a small underground waterfall and skirted its plunge pool. Shobar led the way behind the falling sheet of water to a cunningly concealed entrance to yet another passageway. This one was narrower, and they had to stoop to keep going. It was even steeper than anything they had passed through thus far, and they had to use their hands to hold onto protruding lips of rock to pull themselves upward. Finally the passageway opened into a yet another cavern with a much larger waterfall, almost thirty meters high. The plunge pool was correspondingly large and fed a substantial stream that flowed rapidly, disappearing into the darkness. The cavern extended far beyond the illumination of their puny torches, so they had no means of judging the cavern’s true dimensions.

  “You will wait for us here,” said Shobar to the Skull Watchmen. “Guttanar, take command of this troop. Do not follow us on pain of death.”

  Guttanar went to his knees again and bent his head.

  “As you command, Your Majesty,” he said.

  Shobar grunted.

  “Okay, Nestar, follow me. Stay close behind me.”

  Shobar led the way along the fast-flowing stream. As Guttanar and his troop watched, their torches grew small as they moved away, giving them an idea of the cavern’s immense size. They came to a stone bridge that spanned the stream. Nestar touched the stone as they crossed—it was worn smooth to the touch, and the bridge gave the impression of great age. Is this the work of our ancestors or some long-forgotten people who have since died out? Nestar wondered.

  On the far side of the stream, Shobar led the way to a narrow fissure in the cavern wall. It was so narrow that they had to turn sideways to slide themselves into it. Nestar felt the beginnings of claustrophobia as they moved deeper into the fissure and the solid rock closed in around him. Shobar did not look back but moved steadily inward. Nestar tried to match his king step for step, his grip on his torch growing tighter. Just when he felt the onset of panic, he heard Shobar say, “Almost there now.” The idea that he would soon be free of the enclosing rock buoyed his spirits, and he calmed down. A hundred more sideways steps, and the fissure opened into a passage wide enough to allow them to walk normally. It grew ever wider and higher, and they were soon able to walk side by side. Then Nestar heard a bubbling sound, far in the distance. Shobar did not speak but tramped on steadily. Nestar dared not question his king—he kept silent and matched him step for step.

  Then Shobar put his arm up and said, “Careful, now.”

  The passage widened further, and the ceiling disappeared beyond the range of their torchlight. The bubbling sound was so loud now that they would have only been able to converse in shouts. Nestar saw that they had entered yet another cavern and expected to see a huge waterfall or underground river. The air had grown imperceptibly warmer as they had made their way through the fissure, and now it was so hot that both of them had undid their heavy coats and hung their fur-lined helmets on their packs.

  Shobar walked forward but slowly now. Nestar wrinkled his nose at the smell—the air was heavy with sulfur. Then he realized that the cavern was lit up in a dull glow, making his torchlight unnecessary. Shobar laid his torch on the ground and let it gutter out. Nestar did the same.

  In front of them, the rocky floor ended at what appeared to be an abyss. The heat rising from it had them both bathed in sweat. Shobar walked right up to the edge and looked down. Nestar followed him. When he followed his king’s gaze, he gasped. The abyss dropped off about fifty meters, and at the bottom was a huge but narrow cauldron of molten lava, bubbling and spitting. It seemed like a live internal wound in the planet, its depths extending to the very heart of their world. Heat and sulfurous fumes rose from it, and every now and then, there was a snapping explosion that sent globs of molten rock dozens of meters upward.

  “Sire,” said Nestar in an awed voice. “How did you find this?”

  “This is just the beginning, Nestar!” said Shobar, his voice rising stridently. “Soon you will see!”

  Shobar went to his knees on the edge of the precipice and bowed his head. Nestar mimicked his master, though he did not know to whom he was praying or what he was praying for. Shobar began a litany that was unintelligible at first: he was saying the words so fast that they ran over each other. Nestar listened carefully, and eventually he was able to piece it together, one word at a time
.

  “I have done your bidding, lord,” Shobar chanted, over and over. “And I have returned for guidance. Show me, teach me, O mighty one.”

  Nestar kept his eyes down. He glanced at the bubbling cauldron below from time to time, but it was too bright to look at continuously. There were so many vapors rising from the bubbling lava that he kept thinking that he was seeing something, only to find nothing a moment later. Just as he was about to close his eyes, a thin wisp of vapor arose again. As he stared, it floated up out of the brimstone, gaining substance and form. By the time it reached their eyeline, it was beginning to coalesce. It floated toward them. Nestar dimly realized that Shobar had stopped his litany. Both men remained on their knees.

  The apparition was a reddish-yellow mass of lava with a very rough humanoid form but without any identifiable features. It hung in the air, a mere two meters from them, reeking of sulfur. They were both mesmerized by it.

  “Show me your face as you did before, I beseech you!” Shobar cried.

  There was no response from the specter.

  “I am your servant; I beg you to guide me!” Shobar said again.

  Seconds ticked by, then minutes. Finally there was a sound like the hissing of air escaping from a balloon. It obscured what sounded like a word that only the keenest ear could catch. Then the form rapidly dissolved, fell back into the cauldron, and disappeared into the bubbling lava.

  Shobar stood up slowly. He looked over at Nestar, and for a moment, he looked helpless. Nestar remained on his knees, but now he raised his eyes to Shobar.

  “I think it said patience, sire,” he said.

  “The last time, the specter metamorphosed into human form,” said Shobar, his arrogance deserting him. “A tall, elderly man with piercing blue eyes, clad in flowing robes of the darkest brown. He wore a broad leather belt and was armed with a longsword and a staff. He looked like a wizard or a god. He said that if I followed his every command, he would help me conquer all of Tarsus.”