Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 3 - Death in Delhi

by Gary Gygax

  Inhetep demured. "We can't carry much more with us, Rachelle, and I need to think. Window shopping only." When he saw her pout, the magister reassured her. "Tomorrow you can examine every place offering goods in the whole of Jaipur if that suits you. Right now, I need to walk around and get the lay of things here."

  "Why tomorrow, then? I know you too well not to be suspicious, Setne Inhetep!"

  "I will be busy gleaning information on the morrow, my dear. When I am engaged thus, you 11 have plenty of free time to do as you like. I have but one thing you must do."

  She stopped short, halting the wizard-priest in his tracks by holding fast to his arm. "What do you mean you'll be out? I will be with you."

  "Impossible," Inhetep told her bluntly. "These lands are far more unenlightened than /Egypt and some other states. Here women aren't allowed alone in many sorts of places, are unwelcome even in the company of a man in others. No help for it, Rachelle. You will shop alone while I do my investigation. Besides, I really do need you to do an important errand while I am trying to learn something here."

  "What is that, pray tell?"

  He smiled and said, "Close. I need you to locate a seller of religious items. One carrying shrines of a portable sort, able to fit easily into your travel bag. When you find the right establishment, you are to select an impressive but not ostentatious shrine consecrated to the goddess Sita. Something in the five-hundred-annas range, I should imagine. No solid ivory or silver, no encrusted gems. Finely carved hardwood with such inlay as seems discrete. The figurine of the goddess should be removable."

  "This is important?"

  "Vital. You know I wouldn't say it was if it wasn't—-just as I wouldn't go alone if it were possible to include you."

  That made sense. Rachelle, was above all, a reasonable person about most things. She still had one doubt, though. "You have seen such shrines?"

  "Yes. Well, I have, but I haven't noticed any for sale here in Jaipur. There must certainly be a shop which purveys them, though."

  "No doubt," she said as dryly as he was effusive. "I don't question that, it is your estimation of the cost which I suspect. What made you choose five hundred as the price?"

  The magister cleared his throat and looked skyward a moment or two before responding. "That is a reasonable sum to pay for such a thing, of course. A mere wooden shrine couldn't be more expensive."

  "Tomorrow shall be as you say, Setne, but when you depart, I want three times—no, four!— the amount you think 111 need. That's final." She heard him sigh heavily as he nodded his head.

  After a long walk through the heart of the city, Rachelle fascinated with the exotic sights, sounds, and smells, they returned to the hotel. There they enjoyed a brief rest and dined. The service they received was impeccable, their slightest wish seemingly anticipated by a hovering steward. After a leisurely consumption of digestives in an ornate side chamber provided to patrons for after-dining relaxation, they returned upstairs for an early night's rest in soft beds. The little orchestra and dances performed downstairs held no interest for Rachelle, and Inhetep was lost in other matters. It was a true pleasure after ship, slum room, and outdoor camps, to be nestled in such luxurious comfort. Both slept late.

  Shortly before mid-morning they came downstairs. Having already had sufficient breakfast in their suite to carry them through to evening, they exited the Rajah's and soon went their separate ways. "Ill be back before twilight," the magister told Rachelle. "Please do not remain out any later—it would be too dangerous and certain to attract attention."

  "Attention?"

  "But of course. YouH be mistaken for a courtesan."

  She nodded her agreement. Rachelle would show anyone mistaking her for a whore the folly of his error in short order. That she didn't fear, but under no circumstances did the ama-zon wish to draw unwanted attention to them, and her correction of one approaching her for sex would certainly bring the city guards. Anyway, she was thinking as she entered an interesting bazaar, with so few coins, there'll be no need to remain out for more than a few hours. I could spend twice this amount in such a short time.

  When they departed from the hotel the next day, Rachelle had the desired shrine tucked safely away in her sling carry-all. Although their recently acquired finery was again replaced by common garments suitable for walking the dusty roads of the land, Dushatara, manager of the Rajah's, was as subservient as ever. So too his staff, among whom were several new members. Without showing his distress, the magister handed him a lakh. The coin instantly disappeared, hardly a flash of gold seen to mark where it had been. "See that those people who deserve reward are taken care of," Inhetep said rather curtly.

  "Of course, sahib," the fellow shot back with ease, which implied that such advice was indecorous and unneeded.

  Outside Rachelle spoke to him about his action. "If you give such lavish gratuities, Setne, you shouldn't lecture me!"

  That was most irritating to the magister. The shrine had cost over twice what he had thought reasonable for such a thing. He had had to pay such a big departing gift to the manager so as to assure the fellow didn't talk about his visit afterwards. With so large an amount to pocket, Dushatara would not relate the matter of the supposed official having visited, the fuss, and the free lodging. It would be hushed up, but the expense was as great as if he had actually paid for their accommodations. "Bah! If I hadn't needed to assure that officious worm's silence, I'd not have given him a gold lakh for his services!"

  "Setne! Many of the staff there were excellent—after the first little difficulty."

  He clamped his mouth shut and made no reply to that. The two thus proceeded In silence through the Alwar Gate. It was still a long way to the city for which the gate was named, and before they arrived in Alwar they would have to cross the border between Sindraj and their destination, the maharajate of Delhi in which lay the aforenamed city. Horses would have hastened their progress, but mounts were uncommon for average folk here. To approach the border riding horses would be to raise a warning flag to the guards. Well away from Jaipur, they surreptitiously moved off the road, and once again the wizard-priest used his words of magickal power to create an anomaly to transport them to a place very near the imaginary line which separated Sindraj in the south from Delhi in the north.

  "This is risky," he said as he activated the casting. He peered at a distorted area on the trunk of a big tree, the place which marked the spot he had created the "door" for them. "Perhaps I can ..." With that, the magister thrust his head into the seemingly solid bole. He vanished to the abdomen, looking for ail the world as if he was a monstrous growth springing from the trunk to the ground where his feet were rooted. "Why are you staring so?" Setne asked in puzzlement when he withdrew and turned to speak to Rachelle.

  She laughed nervously. "You seemed a very odd part of that tree, Setne. It wasn't actually funny, more eerie, and ..."

  "That's fine. 1 understand. The exit point is fortunately in a secluded place. We must hurry before the heka runs out and this portal disappears." He held out his hand. Rachelle took ahold, and with him leading, they went through. A few heartbeats later, first Inhetep, then Rachelle, stepped from what appeared to be a similar tree bole. Only the sickening sensation and the changed surroundings enabled them to discern that they had passed over leagues, not simply stepped through one side of the trunk to come out on the other.

  "Which direction now?" the magister murmured, peering around with uncertainty.

  She glanced at the sky, then pointed. "Let's try that way, Setne. From the position of the sun, that's north, and if we angle eastward a bit we should cross the road—if you managed to get us along a parallel to it."

  "I think I did. Let's see." In a relatively short time, they came upon what was certainly the Alwar Road. It was broad and busy. Hardly a glance was directed at the two as they stepped from the underbrush to join the flow heading northward. Couples coming from the bushes weren't remarkable, after all. One fellow winked at the magister
after eyeing Rachelle. Setne winked back and let it go at that.

  Afternoon found them amid a cluster of hovels, a miserable little hamlet which marked the place where the maharajah of Sindraj's rule ended, being replaced a little beyond by that of the potentate who sat upon the Peacock Throne. "What business have you in Delhi?" a soldier demanded roughly as the two came to the place where travelers were allowed to pass out of Sindraj. He was brutal looking and had cold eyes.

  "We go on holy pilgrimage to the sacred rivers of Punjab," Inhetep said with neither arrogance nor subservience.

  Somehow that seemed to arouse the guard's suspicion. "Is that so?" he growled, stepping closer to both. "Have you anything to declare? Any proscribed things? Contraband?"

  "No. Nothing of the sort."

  "Ill see if that's so," he snapped. "Lay your packs upon the ground. I will also search you both—the woman first."

  Setne saw a glint in Rachelle's eyes. It spelled trouble for the soldier if he dared to lay his hands on her. No such commotion could be allowed. The priest-wizard acted quickly then. "Wait! I urge you not to lay a finger on her, good soldier!"

  The man spun, hand on his weapon's hilt. His face was flushed as he nearly shouted, "What was that you said to me?!"

  "Have a care! That woman is under vow to the goddess Sita. She is making a pilgrimage because the goddess came to her in a vision, told her she must do this. That is why I am here. I dare not rouse a deity's ire, do you?"

  "I don't believe you! Hah, I don't give a pinch of monkey's shit for that lie," he continued as he grabbed for Rachelle. An instant later, he was knocked backward, the event accompanied by a sharp crack of sound and a flash of light.

  Many other travelers had been witness to the whole scene. In fact, several other guards had been watching casually, hoping to see something interesting from what their comrade did to the two. They were soldiers, sick of border duty, bored, and generally nasty at the best of times. "When the man ended up prone, they drew their weapons, came closer, but hesitated. Perhaps it was some conjuror's trick, but what if the tall man spoke the truth?

  An officer appeared from one of the huts. "What is the problem here?" he barked when he saw the frozen tableau. One of the guardsmen explained. The officer looked at the fallen man, kicked him awake, and told him to stand at attention. Then he approached Inhetep and the amazon.

  "Who are you?" he asked civilly enough. The magister answered, supplying names for both himself and Rachelle. "Why do you speak for your wife?" he then queried, and of course the magister gave him the story of the vow of silence, embellished by a personal vision of the goddess. Hearing that, the officer seemed neither to believe nor doubt. "Sita. I see. What happened to the guard who was going to search you?" he said suddenly to Rachelle, looking directly at her.

  Rachelle's eyes showed she understood his question, that she had an answer, but she didn't otherwise respond. "As I said, sir," Inhetep filled in, "she can not utter a word until her pilgrimage is done, her vow fulfilled. I tried to warn your man. I think the goddess has placed a protective mantle upon my wife. I dare not touch her," he added ruefully. The latter almost convinced the officer, but he was careful.

  "You there!" The officer motioned. The stricken soldier came to stand before his superior. He moved a little jerkily, and he was undoubtedly bruised and sore. The guard's eyes were filled with an almost laughable mixture of hatred and fear, which he hid as he looked at the officer.

  "Sir?" He was told to go and bring the swami subadar. He went off, his now-odd gait eliciting more than one suppressed chuckle from the growing throng who watched this exciting show.

  In truth, the officer was tempted to laugh, but instead he waved the crowd off, ordered the idle guards nearby to get busy processing the folk, and then led his two charges so as to meet the approaching magickal practitioner partway.

  Out of range of the curious now, the officer had Inhetep repeat the whole story. The swami subadar used his powers. "I can find no deception, but ..."

  "But what?"

  "There are very strong auras and flows of energy, sir. I can not be sure of anything."

  "Is that so! Tell me, Merchant Chandgar, how do you explain that?!"

  "I? I explain such things? No, sahib officer. I am only a businessman, no worker of magickal wonders. I can only tell you it is the goddess in her shrine. My dear Manasay spends hours of time in devotional meditation and prayer before it each night and day. Sita is within!" Inhetep pointed helplessly towards their gear, his look beseeching the aid of the army heka practitioner.

  The swami subadar rose to the bait perfectly. "That's easy enough to check on, sir. Shall I examine their things?"

  With an affirmative answer, the commander of the detachment guarding the border crossing called out for one of the men to bring the two bags to where they stood apart. "Empty them," he ordered. The guardsman dumped both.

  "Aiiiy!" the swami cried when that happened. "Have a care! There is very potent heka coming from—" He stopped to bend down and rummage through the mess. Then he stopped and held something up. "This shrine! Should I open it, sir?"

  "Open it, Subadar," the officer said.

  The swami put the little box on the ground, sat cross-legged before it, and after a few mumbled incantations in preparation, pulled the doors outwards, doing so carefully, possibly with trepidation. Immediately upon so doing, he gave a gasp. Then the fellow prostrated himself, bending so that his forehead was flush upon the ground despite his position.

  The officer saw nothing remarkable in the shrine, only a small idol of the goddess in question: Sita, wife of the great Rama. "Come on, man!" he barked. "Stop that. Tell me what you see."

  It took a few minutes to get the swami out of his adoration, back on his feet, and able to report. "Surely, sir, that shrine holds the power of the goddess. Never have I experienced such an energy. Sita's own voice spoke to me, commanding that I leave her faithful handmaiden, Manasay, wife of the man Chandgar, untouched. I am to send her on her way to the springs which form the Five Rivers. This man spoke true."

  "Very well. Thank you, Swami Subadar. You may get back to what you were doing. You two may leave. Get away from here. Cross the border to Delhi and get on to your Punjab. Do not return this way—if you do return!" he added.

  Something about this whole matter bothered him, but he no longer cared. What difference if this couple went to the land of the enemy? Even if the fellow was a trickster, he was not going to detain him. Under no circumstances did he want either that man or his good-looking woman around.

  Thus the two entered the lands ruled by Guldir Maharajah Sivadji. At last they were in Delhi, if not at the great capital city of that name.

  —— 7 ——

  A CRY IN THE NIGHT

  In a few hundred yards, they had to pass through those soldiers set to guard against the unwanted incursion of those coming from Sindraj. It was Delhi which was pressing the conflict between the two states, the Peacock Throne which sought territorial gain from its neighbor to the south. But that was in the far west, in Multan. Here they were fearful of only one thing. That was, of course, an invasion. Spies would always get across borders. No clever one would ever come along a road such as this. Smugglers would likewise avoid an open crossing. They were cursory in their checking, demanding only bribes for admittance.

  "It is five annas each to enter," the man stopping Inhetep and Rachelle said.

  "I am no prince to pay such an outrageous sum!" the magister said hotly when he heard that. "I am an honest merchant who can afford but a single anna," he said loudly. Then he handed something over to the guardsman.

  "Honest merchant! There is no such thing!" the soldier shouted back. But he accepted what Inhetep had given him, and with some curses waved them on past where he stood.

  "What was that ruckus for?" Rachelle asked.

  "Oh, he was covering up. I gave him two annas when I said I could afford but one. That way he could keep one for himself without having to pu
t it in the pot for all his fellows to divide. It works nearly always."

  "There's more to you, Magister, than meets the eye," Rachelle scolded. "Knowledge of such a roguish trick is a sign of a misspent youth."

  "And now a misspent maturity with you, my dear!"

  She made a face at him. "You mean middle age."

  "Nothing of the sort. We ur-kheri-heb-tepiu defy such mundane conceptions."

  "Yes. You go from undoubtedly stuffy younger age to a stodginess of septuagenarian sort without benefit of any intermediate period."

  "But last night you said—"

  "Be quiet, Setne. Someone will hear us." At that point, Rachelle was no longer joking. The thoroughfare leading to Alwar was no place to be chattering in /Egyptian.

  "Right." He said that in the lingua franca, knowing the talisman she wore would enable translation. "Now I will speak, you will listen in dutiful silence." Her glare would have been sufficient to egg him on, but by now Setne had tired of the game. "Walk along briskly. I wish to get to the city as soon as possible. I am tired of shank's mare. When we reach Alwar, we will find good horses and ride the remainder of the way to Delhi. It has been nearly a month, and I fear our patron will be beside himself."

  The amazon looked at Inhetep with one brow raised. The look conveyed her concern.

  "As close as we are, and with no opposition likely to alert such an arrival, why not fast steeds? Would you prefer the comfort of a how-dah atop the back of a great elephant?" Rachelle looked disgusted. "I thought not. Horses it will be, then." They walked on thus, the magister sporadically keeping up similar one-way conversations as they went.

  Thankfully, their goal was only a dozen miles on the other side of the border. That explained the unusually heavy traffic. Its proximity to Sindraj also explained the unusually good state of repair of Alwar's walls and the strength of the military force garrisoning the city. As difficult as such a place might prove to be, there was one great advantage to the presence of the army there. Horses were plentiful, if more than a trifle dear due to demand. After a night's stay in a nondescript inn, they entered the horse market to accomplish the magister's purpose.