"You four need to clean the study," he ordered. "The next four handle the rear entrance. The rest will clean the servants' quarters. I want all of the blood cleaned up. Anything that is stained must be reported so it can be replaced. Do not touch the bodies and do not get in the way of my men. One last but important order, you will speak to nobody about what happened here tonight. Get moving."
Handershiv was in the last group and he hurried down the stairs to the servants' quarters. His eyes opened wide as he saw the mercenaries shoving a body into a cloth sack. One mercenary bent down and picked up a human arm and threw it into the sack. The floor was covered in blood and the servants moved swiftly to mop it up. The mercenaries carried the sack away. Within an hour all of the servants had returned to the servants' quarters. Handershiv inquired about the attacks at the other locations and found that they also resulted in bodies being carried away and massive amounts of blood on the floor, which required cleanup. In the space of two hours the mercenaries had set up for the attack, defeated it, and had the mansion cleaned up. Nobody would imagine that three assassins had tried to kill Lord Clava.
Handershiv told his fellow servants that he wanted to sneak out for a romantic meeting with a friend, and they agreed not to tell anyone. He ran through the streets until he arrived at Duke Tredor's estate. He reported everything that had gone on at Lord Clava's home and then returned before anyone noticed him missing.
The following morning Duke Tredor shared his information with Duke Graves and Duke Zalski.
"Three assassins at once," Duke Graves shook his head. "They must be getting desperate. At least we can all feel confident now that the mercenaries are not just spreading lies about the threats. This has proven that the threats are real."
"It also troubles me," interjected Duke Zalski.
"What troubles you about it?" queried Duke Tredor. "It was not an attack on your life."
"Not last night," agreed Duke Zalski, "but whoever is hiring these assassins just lost three more men. He lost the men because Lord Clava boosted his security. It makes sense that he would now try to target someone who does not have the extra men."
"That is what I was thinking," nodded Duke Graves. "It probably doesn't really matter which councilors he eliminates. In that position, I would go for the easiest targets."
"And we are among the easiest," frowned Duke Tredor. "Perhaps it is time for another visit to Stafa Rakech."
Duke Graves and Duke Zalski nodded in agreement.
The three councilors visited the home of Stafa Rakech and executed agreements similar to the one Konic had said he had. They pledged their estates as collateral for a credit line that they could use whenever it was necessary.
After the three councilors left, Stafa Rakech had three more visitors, but he entertained them in his furnished sitting room.
"The plan is progressing well," Oscar declared. "The time for Queen Marta to enter Tagaret is fast approaching. We need to plan for it."
"Do you want us to go out to the farm and get the Red Swords prepared?" asked Alex.
"I would love to go myself," sighed Oscar, "but that would jeopardize too much. We now have all of the Rangers in the city. We still have to eliminate three councilors to make sure that we control the majority of the Council."
"And figure out how to deal with Duke Everich," added Tanya. "He does not seem the type to leave quietly."
"Duke Everich has met his match in Oscar Dalek," smiled Jenneva. "He may not know it yet, but he is losing the Contest of Power."
Chapter 14
The Chosen
Azmet was in a foul rage, and his men gave him a wide berth. All of the men except Nassar feared to be in his presence.
"I want that wench dead," howled Azmet. "How could you have let her escape?"
"We were not looking for her," replied Nassar. "All of our men were out looking for the prisoners. I still do not understand how their accomplice knew about the old prison. Nor can I figure out how the hatch door was opened. The bolt had long ago rusted to be become part of the hatch. It could not be opened."
"Why do you dwell on the prisoners when it is the wench that destroyed the statue and stole the diamond?" stormed the Prophet of Abuud.
"Because they are more important to you," answered Nassar. "The wench no longer matters. While her destruction of your statue creates your greatest problem, the prisoners are going after the real statue. That real statue is your redemption."
"What are you saying?" glared Azmet as he stopped his pacing.
"The followers will believe that Abuud has forsaken you because the statue was destroyed," explained Nassar. "You must obtain the real statue to placate them. Make up some story about Abuud leading you to a better statue. To pursue the wench is only a distraction to you. Solidify the following and leave the destruction of the wench to the future. Already there is talk about you being a false prophet."
"A false prophet?" growled Azmet. "There would be no followers of Abuud if it were not for me. Who dares to doubt me?"
"You have performed miracles in bringing Abuud to the attention of the masses," calmed Nassar. "You must do this again now before the followers start leaving. Put your rage behind you, Master. Surely you have the wits to use this tragedy to your advantage."
Azmet stared at Nassar and eventually nodded. "You are a wise servant of Abuud," nodded Azmet. "Only a spirit of peace and harmony can bring victory from defeat. Gather the followers. I must speak to them all. Let none depart before they have heard my words."
Nassar smiled and bowed as he left the office. Azmet sat at the chair behind his desk and closed his eyes. He lowered his head to his waiting hands and shut out the noises of the temple as he planned to once again direct the following of Abuud. Within an hour Nassar returned.
"The followers are assembled, Master," bowed Nassar. "Are you prepared for them?"
"I am ready for them," smiled Azmet as he opened his eyes and lifted his head. "The question is whether or not the infidels are ready for them. Let us go."
Azmet rose and left the room. Nassar followed behind as the Prophet of Abuud marched proudly along the corridor until he entered the worship chamber. He stood where the old statue of Abuud had resided and gazed at the assembled masses. The wreckage of the statue was still scattered across the floor. The followers packed the temple and overflowed into the street beyond to hear the words of the prophet. The people were packed so tightly into the room that it was not physically possible for them to move unless those at the doorway exited first.
"Followers of Abuud," Azmet's voice rang out as the temple fell to silence, "yesterday our god spoke to us. He did not speak in the ways we are use to, but his message has become clear to me through prayer. Like many of you, I wept upon the loss of the great statue of Abuud, which our god gave to me, the Prophet of Abuud, in the desert. I feared that Abuud was showing his displeasure upon us for spreading his message of peace and harmony too slowly. I feared that I, the Prophet of Abuud, had failed in my task. I know that not one of you loyal and faithful followers would have dared feel this way, but I, who bears the burden of stewarding you, felt that I had let Abuud down."
Soft murmurs rippled through the assembled mass of followers, and Azmet let his eyes rove over the assemblage in an attempt to seek out disbelievers.
"Here is the broken remains of the statue of Abuud," Azmet continued as he waved towards the debris. "Ask yourself why Abuud allowed this to happen. It certainly was the question on my mind. Because of that question, I remained away from you. I have not held lectures. I have called no meetings. Instead I fasted and bowed in prayer to Abuud to explain the meaning to me. All night I remained in prayer and all of today as well. I am here now to tell you why Abuud allowed this destruction."
Again murmurs rippled through the crowd, but this time they were murmurs of anticipation and Azmet smiled as he felt his control growing.
"Yesterday," Azmet continued, "infidels came among us. They were infidels that represent the powers of the unbelieving wo
rld that we must enlighten. These infidels destroyed the statue of the god we cherish. Why? Why did Abuud allow this to happen? Surely he could have stopped it and preserved the statue, but he chose not to. Was it because we failed him? Was it because I failed him? That is what I believed before he spoke to me."
Azmet was back in control and he could feel it. The followers were hanging on his every word and it made Azmet smile again.
"The answer is NO," shouted Azmet. "We have not failed Abuud. I have not failed Abuud. He is pleased with what we have accomplished. There is a message in the destruction of the statue though, and it is a strong message. Let me tell you what the message is."
The ends of Azmet's mouth turned upwards as he felt the assemblage holding their breath for the revelation he was about to disclose.
"What the infidels were allowed to do yesterday to the statue," roared Azmet, "they seek to do to the following of Abuud. We offer them peace and harmony and all they can return is our destruction. Just as the statue was symbolic to us as the likeness of Abuud, so too is their destruction of that statue symbolic of what they hope to do to us. Are you, the followers of Abuud, going to allow them to destroy us?"
The followers roared, "No."
"Are you going to allow them to trample over our bodies and turn us to dust?" shouted Abuud.
"No," thundered the assemblage as raised fists filled the worship chamber.
"Neither am I," grinned Azmet. "Neither am I. The infidels have shown their intolerance for peace and harmony and now we must show them the might of Abuud. Abuud has given me new directives as his favored Prophet of Abuud. He has promised me a new statue."
The crowd roared, "Abuud is great."
"Abuud has placed this statue in a faraway land," continued Azmet. "He has made its location known to me, but he has warned me that the infidels will seek to destroy it too. Even now, there are infidels on their way to destroy the new statue because they fear the wrath of Abuud should the Prophet of Abuud once again come into possession of the statue."
"Where is the statue that we may descend upon it in great numbers and secure it from the infidels?" shouted a voice from the following.
"Where is the statue?" echoed Azmet. "That is a very good question. The location of the statue will be revealed only to a select few. These are the instructions handed down to me from Abuud. Listen carefully. I am to select a lesser prophet and twelve sworn martyrs. Only those thirteen shall be allowed to retrieve the statue of Abuud."
The chamber erupted in the raising of hands again, but this time the hands were not closed fists. The hands raised were volunteers to be one of the chosen, and Azmet was very pleased with the results.
"Only those who are willing to swear the oath of a martyr may be considered for this pilgrimage," warned Azmet. "The journey will be long and troublesome. Many will never return, but the statue of Abuud will. When the statue is returned to us, then we shall begin the conquest that Abuud has demanded. In our next meeting, I shall reveal more of Abuud's words and his new directives. Now I must go and choose the lesser prophet and the twelve martyrs. Abuud is Great!"
The worship hall thundered with cries of "Abuud is great" as Azmet turned and headed back to his office. Nassar followed close on his heels.
"That was magnificent, Prophet of Abuud," smiled Nassar. "I knew you could energize them once again. Who did you have in mind for the lesser prophet?"
"Not you Nassar," smiled Azmet. "It must be a mage. I will select Lotfi."
"Why are only thirteen going?" inquired Nassar. "Will that be sufficient to secure the statue?"
"Is should be more than sufficient to defeat a couple of boys," sneered Azmet. "The party is small because they must penetrate deep into the Empire of Lanoir. A larger party would never be able to move undetected. The Emperor is gearing up for war, and the reports I have show his army approaching one million. If we tried to enter his territory with a thousand men, we would be annihilated. Thirteen can easily get through."
"As always," nodded Nassar, "you are wise in your actions."
"I want the twelve to among the most ruthless," instructed Azmet. "They must each be willing to sacrifice themselves for the good of the mission. I will not be able to talk my way out of the loss of another statue."
***
Niki woke screaming and Boris hurried to her side.
"What is the matter?" inquired Master Khatama.
Niki sat up and looked around the campsite. She seemed disoriented at first and then she clung to the old merchant.
"It was a dream," Niki finally said. "It was horrible. I was married and my husband was in trouble. I was protecting him somehow. I am not sure how, but he was fighting this great evil. He was doing really good and I was proud of him."
"That does not sound like something that should produce a scream," smiled Boris.
"No," Niki shook her head weakly. "That was the good part. I got distracted somehow and he was struck down. It was horrible and it was my fault. I failed him," she cried.
"Tanya used to have visions too," comforted Boris as he hugged Niki. "Have you had this one before?"
A puzzled frown fell over Niki's face as she broke the embrace with Boris and looked into his face.
"It was just a dream," she asked, "wasn't it?"
"Dream, vision, what is the difference?" quizzed Master Khatama. "Oh I suppose one could have meaningless dreams, but what are the odds of such a nonsense reoccurring? I guess we can call it a dream this time, but not if it comes again."
"I don't usually dream, and I don't want that one to come again," frowned Niki. "It was horrible. I felt so helpless. And worse, I felt guilty. It was as if I killed him."
Boris heard a noise and looked over to see the mare fidgeting nervously. He kept the mare in sight as he tried to calm and console Niki. He noticed that the mare's nervousness subsided as Niki calmed down.
"It is close to the first lightening," Master Khatama said. "Perhaps we should get an early start today. We have so much trail to travel before we reach Lanoir."
"We are going to Lanoir?" inquired Niki.
"That is where the Sword of Heavens will be," answered Boris. "Don't you want to present the Diamond of Edona?"
"I guess I hadn't thought about it," admitted Niki. "I am just content to travel with you. I am not sure I want to rejoin the Rangers."
"Nobody said that you had to," smiled Boris. "Still the Ancient Prophecy is an important one. I suspect that you realize that. Besides, it makes a nice destination. Of course these are troubled times down there"
"I bet you enjoyed having Tanya with you," frowned Niki. "At least she is good with a sword and could protect your wagon."
"Tanya was good with a sword," nodded Master Khatama, "but I prefer to avoid trouble rather than confront it with a sword."
Niki fell silent as she hitched the horses to the wagon, and Boris felt her withdrawing.
"Do not try to compare yourself with her," He smiled. "You are two different people. Tanya learned to use a sword because she wanted to, not because I required her to protect the wagon. My wagon is full of stuff. It matters little to me. You matter much more than it does."
Boris watched a smile appear on Niki's face as he cleaned up the campsite. He tried to remember when Tanya decided to learn to use a sword and could not. He shook his head and returned to preparing the wagon for the trail. Soon they were ready to leave, and Boris started the wagon rolling as Niki leaped aboard.
"Are we going to be going through Cidal?" asked Niki.
"Do you want to?" inquired Master Khatama.
"No," replied Niki. "I do not think that I am welcome there. I would prefer to avoid it."
"Then we shall avoid it," smiled Boris. "There is an old caravan track that skirts the Great Sordoan Desert. We will not hit anything resembling a town before Dubar. Fortunately we have good provisions on board. It will be much quicker than going along the coast."
"You certainly know your way around a lot of places," Niki mentio
ned. "I guess you have been a merchant for a long time. Is that what your father did?"
A puzzled frown fell over Boris's face as he drove the wagon. He did not remember his father. Nor did he remember his mother for that matter. He struggled to remember his early years and came up blank.
"I guess I have always been a merchant," he finally answered. "I guess when the boys taunt me about being a senile old man, they are closer to the truth than I care to admit."
"Well you have more memories than most people," smiled Niki. "I think it is alright for you not to remember some of them. What do boys know anyway? I have a few memories I wish I could forget."
"I suppose we all have those," chuckled Master Khatama.
***
The Red Swords leaped from the bushes and surrounded the trio. Their swords were unsheathed, and it was obvious to a trained eye that the woods still held quite a few archers. Alex held his hand up to stop Jenneva and Tanya.
"You made the wrong turn off the road, friend," snapped one of the Red Swords.
"If we have," smiled Alexander, "then it is a wrong turn that I am glad we took. It brings joy to my eyes to see those uniforms. Please inform General Gregor that Alexander Tork wishes to visit."
His words repeated through the woods as the Red Swords whispered to each other. Within moments a rider approached.
"Alexander," greeted Sergeant Trank, "it is a pleasure to see you again."
"Sergeant," greeted Alex, "the pleasure is mine. I am glad to see your men have security well covered."
"They are good men," smiled Trank. "Come. Let us get you three to the mansion."
Sergeant Trank led the trio to the mansion where General Gregor was headquartered. Alex saw hundreds of Red Swords running drills and practicing with weapons along the way. They dismounted in front of the building. Sergeant Trank led them through the house to a large dining room with a long table. General Gregor and Queen Marta were seated at the table. Alexander and Jenneva bowed to the Queen. Queen Marta smiled as Jenneva nudged Tanya. Tanya recovered quickly and bowed before she became an embarrassment. Sergeant Trank bowed his way out of the room and the three visitors were invited to sit at the table.
Abuud: the One-Eyed God Page 17