“Be merciful, dread Queen!” Andine’s voice soared, covering another sound that had begun to intrude upon the wailing that always accompanied Ghend’s dream visions.
Althalus looked sharply at Eliar, who was standing with Bheid and Salkan among the cowering courtiers. The young man’s face was grim, and he had the Knife half drawn. Dweia had evidently been issuing instructions to the others, and it seemed that she’d neglected to include Althalus.
“On thy face!” stern Gelta commanded the kneeling Arya. “Grovel before me that I may know that thy submission is absolute!”
Then Althalus heard some muffled shouts coming from outside the palace, shouts concealed beneath the competing wail and the song of the Knife. Sergeant Gebhel, it appeared, was right on schedule.
Then Leitha’s voice sounded sharply inside his head. Althalus! she shouted. They’re real! It’s not an illusion!
What isn’t?
That army outside the walls! It’s real! There are thousands of them, and they’re marching on the gates!
Althalus began silently cursing his own inattention. Ghend had his own doors and his own doorkeeper. Yakhag was obviously involved in some way, but events were already moving too fast to worry about that now. Ghend’s dream vision was already in full swing.
And, weeping, Arya Andine lowered her face to the very stones of the floor as the wailing rose to a shriek.
And the heart of Gelta was full, and the taste of victory on her tongue was sweet, sweet.
And she placed her rough-booted foot upon the soft neck of groveling Andine in exultant triumph, declaring, “All that was yours is now mine, Andine, yea, verily, even thy life and all thy blood!”
And the triumphant cry of the Queen of Night echoed down the marble-clad palace of the fallen Arya of Osthos.
Khalor’s soldiers were supposed to be removing Gelta’s sentries at this point, but the black-armored Nekweros were still in place in every doorway of the throne room, and sounds coming from the corridors suggested that Khalor’s men were encountering some unexpected opposition.
What’s going on, Althalus? Bheid’s silent voice was shrill. Why are those enemy soldiers still guarding the doorways?
It’s Yakhag! Althalus sent his thought back sharply. He’s slipped an army into Osthos while we weren’t watching!
The song of the Knife faltered as the wail rose to a triumphant shriek.
“Tripped you up, didn’t I, old boy?” Argan said smugly to Althalus. “You should really pay closer attention, you know. You might be a match for Ghend, but you’re out of your class when you come up against me.” Then he turned to look at Bheid. “Well, Brother, we meet at last. Awfully good of you to put in an appearance. You’ve saved me all the time and trouble of hunting you down. It’s really a shame that we won’t have time for a nice chat, but I’m dreadfully busy right now.” Then he turned to his black-armored companion. “Yakhag,” he said in an offhand manner, “do be a good fellow and kill that priest for me, would you?”
Yakhag nodded expressionlessly and advanced on Bheid, his heavy sword at the ready.
Salkan, however, snatched Eliar’s sword from its sheath and jumped in front of his teacher. “You’ll have to get through me first!” the fiery young redhead shouted, awkwardly brandishing Eliar’s sword.
Yakhag shrugged expressionlessly, flicked his sword slightly to tap the sword the shepherd was waving off to one side, and then drove his sword completely through Salkan’s body.
Salkan doubled over sharply, and Eliar’s sword went skittering across the floor of Andine’s throne room.
“Get out of my way, Bheid!” Eliar shouted as both of them rushed after the sliding sword.
Bheid, however, had already snatched up the sword. Shoving Eliar aside, he rushed at Yakhag, who was struggling to free his sword from Salkan’s limp body.
Althalus saw immediately that Bheid had probably never held a sword before, since he was swinging it much as he would an ax, grasping the hilt in both hands and chopping at Yakhag’s helmet.
Bheid’s third stroke sent the visor of Yakhag’s helmet flying, and Yakhag raised his arms to cover his head.
“Stab, Bheid!” Eliar shouted. “Stab! Stab!”
Bheid awkwardly reversed his grip on the hilt of Eliar’s sword and drove the point against the black breastplate of Yakhag’s armor. The sword point penetrated only slightly, but Bheid wrenched the sword from side to side, grinding more than cutting as he worked the blade to enlarge the hole in the steel. Then, still holding the sword in place, he lunged, throwing his full weight against the hilt. Then he lunged again, and bright blood burst forth from Yakhag’s mouth.
Yakhag cried out and desperately grabbed the blade Bheid was methodically driving through his body.
Bheid’s face contorted with hate, and he lunged against the sword hilt yet again.
Yakhag screamed, and his hands fell away from the sword blade.
Bheid lunged one last time, and Althalus clearly heard the scrape of the sword point against the steel backplate of Yakhag’s armor.
For a very brief instant Althalus saw a faint hint of something that looked almost like gratitude touch Yakhag’s eyes, and then the blackarmored savage shuddered and collapsed beside Salkan’s inert body.
Bheid stared in horror at the man he had just killed and at the one who had died for him, and then he wept, sobbing like a broken-hearted child.
Once again, there was that peculiar flicker, and Khnom burst out of nowhere, grasped the stunned Argan by the arm, and dragged him through a doorway that had flames behind it.
And then the doorway vanished—and so did the black-armored Nekweros who had been guarding every door in the throne room.
“Get your foot off me, you stinking hag!” Andine’s soaring voice broke through the stunned silence that had fallen over the throne room, even as the wild wailing faltered and the song of the Knife soared.
Gelta’s eyes widened in astonishment, and her hand flashed toward her sword hilt.
“I wouldn’t,” Sergeant Khalor advised her. “There are ten arrows aimed directly at your heart, ma’am. If your sword comes out so much as an inch, you’re dead meat.”
Gelta froze.
“Get off my throne!” Andine commanded, rising to her feet and discarding her chains.
Gelta stared at her in open disbelief. “This can’t happen!” she exclaimed.
“It just did!” Andine told her. “Now move, or I’ll take an ax to you myself.”
“I have an army!” Gelta blustered. “They’ll destroy this entire city!”
“Weren’t you watching just now?” Althalus said. “Your army vanished when Yakhag died. You’re all alone, Gelta.”
“Chain this foul-smelling cow!” Andine commanded. “And drag her down to my dungeon!”
The palace guards swarmed over the struggling Queen of Night, and Althalus neatly locked Andine’s discarded chains about Gelta’s wrists and ankles.
The guards dragged Gelta toward a side door, but the song of the Knife continued to soar.
“Just a moment, please,” Eliar said, wrenching his sword from Yakhag’s inert body. “There’s something I need to show to the prisoner.”
Gelta turned, her back to the door.
Eliar sheathed his sword and drew the Knife. “I thought you should see this before you leave,” Eliar said bleakly. Then he held the Knife out with the flat of the blade directly in front of her eyes.
Gelta shrieked in agony, trying to raise her chained arms so that she could cover her eyes. She flinched back against the door, and it swung smoothly open.
The Queen of Night fell backward through the door—and vanished.
“What did you do?” Andine demanded of Eliar, her voice rattling the windows.
“Emmy told me to do it, Andine.” Eliar tried to shift the blame. “It wasn’t my idea.”
“I wanted to put that stinking cow in my dungeon.”
“I think Emmy just stole your doormat, dear,” Lei
tha murmured. “Now you’ll have to wipe your feet on something else.”
“Where is she, Eliar?” Andine insisted. “Where did that door take her?”
“She’s in the House now, Andine,” Eliar replied. “Emmy fixed up a special room for her. It’s a fairly nice room—except that it doesn’t have a door. From what Emmy told me, I guess that Gelta’s managed to break out of jails before. She won’t break out of that one, though.”
“How long does Emmy plan to keep her there?”
“She didn’t say,” Eliar said, shrugging, “but the look on her face when she told me what to do had ‘forever’ written all over it.”
“Forever!” Andine’s eyes widened in horror.
“At least forever,” Eliar said. “Or maybe just a little while longer.”
There was a sudden silence in Andine’s throne room, broken only by Brother Bheid’s hopeless sobbing.
Part Six
LEITHA
C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - F I V E
Not a chance, Althalus,” Sergeant Khalor said bleakly. “He’s gone.”
The Sergeant’s right, Althalus, Dweia’s voice murmured. We’ve lost Salkan.
Isn’t there anything you can do, Em?
No, I’m afraid not.
Althalus swore.
“My sentiments exactly,” Khalor said. “I really liked that boy. I think we all did.”
“Bheid seems to be taking it strangely. I can’t figure him out.”
“He did the right thing, though,” Khalor nudged the sprawled body of the black-armored Yakhag with his foot. “Who was this fellow, anyway?”
“I’m not completely sure, Sergeant,” Althalus admitted. “He seems to have been some kind of outsider who only answered to Argan. I don’t think Ghend had any control over him. There was quite a bit going on that I didn’t understand.”
“We won, though. That’s all that really matters.” Then Khalor frowned. “I thought priests weren’t supposed to kill people,” he added. “Isn’t that one of the things that aren’t permitted?”
“I’m not all that familiar with Church law myself,” Althalus replied, “but Brother Bheid seems to have gone a little crazy after Yakhag killed Salkan.”
“It happens,” Khalor said, shrugging. “You might want to keep a close eye on him for a while. He’s not an Arum, so he hasn’t had much training. An Arum doesn’t get upset when he has to kill an enemy. A priest from the low country, though . . . Well, I’m sure you get my point.”
“You don’t have to beat me over the head with it,” Althalus replied. He squinted at Bheid. “He doesn’t seem to be too awfully upset, though.”
“That’s what I’m talking about, Althalus. He should be. He just lost a very close friend, and then he did something that’s absolutely forbidden. That blank expression on his face is making me a bit edgy. I wouldn’t let him get close to anything with a sharp point for a while.”
“He wouldn’t do anything like that.” Althalus scoffed.
“Not if he’s in his right mind, probably. But I don’t think he is in his right mind at the moment.”
“I’ll watch him,” Althalus agreed. “Let’s get those two bodies out of his sight for right now. Then I think maybe Eliar and I should take Bheid back to the House and turn him over to Emmy.”
“That might be best,” Khalor agreed.
“It may take a while, my Arya,” Lord Dhakan said in a weary voice two days later when they all gathered in Andine’s throne room. “We didn’t explain very much to the members of the court before that barbaric woman rode into Osthos.”
“We couldn’t really, Dhakan,” Andine said from her throne. “The palace was absolutely infested with spies.”
“Not anymore,” Leitha murmured.
“Unfortunately, that’s also contributed to this outbreak of skittishness,” Dhakan pointed out. “I’m sure they were all on the enemy payroll, but throwing footmen and stable boys into the dungeon along with high-ranking members of the court lays a strong odor of arbitrary capriciousness over the whole procedure, and there’s no really rational explanation for some of those arrests.” Dhakan passed a weary hand across his face. “I’m sure that Leitha was right in her identifications of those enemy agents, but it’s not the sort of thing you’d want to take into any law court.” He sighed.
“You’re exhausted, aren’t you, Dhakan?” Andine asked sympathetically.
“I am just a bit worn down, my Arya,” he admitted. “It’s been fairly hectic here lately.”
“Why don’t you go eat and then get some sleep?”
“There are so many things left to do,” he protested.
“They’ll wait. Get to bed, Dhakan.”
“But—”
She drew herself up on her throne. “Go to your room! Now!” she commanded, pointing to the door.
“Yes, Mother,” he replied with a faint smile. Then he turned and wearily shuffled from the room.
“I love that old man,” Andine murmured fondly.
“I never would have guessed,” Leitha said.
Then Eliar and Gher entered Andine’s throne room. “It’s all finished up at Poma,” Eliar advised them. “Twengor ran the enemy forces out of town and Kreuter and Dreigon rolled right over the top of them.”
“Where’s Khalor?” Althalus asked.
“He’s stuck to that window,” Gher replied. “I don’t think you could drag him away from it with a team of horses.”
“He wants me to come right back,” Eliar added, “in case he needs to use the door. I’m supposed to tell you that Twengor’s coming here for his money. The Sergeant thinks we should probably have a conference after Kreuter and Dreigon finish up at Kadon and Mawor.”
“That might not be a bad idea,” Althalus agreed. “How’s Bheid?”
“He’s been sleeping quite a lot,” Gher replied. “Emmy says that’s the best way to calm him down.”
“He is going to be all right, isn’t he?” Leitha asked in a worried voice.
“He acts a little strange whenever Emmy lets him wake up,” Gher told her. “He talks about stuff that I don’t quite understand. Emmy lets him go on and on about it while he’s eating, and then she puts him back to sleep again. Don’t worry, Leitha. Emmy’s not going to let him stay strange. She’ll fix him, even if she has to take him apart and put him back together again.”
Leitha shuddered. “What a gruesome thought.”
“You know our Emmy,” Gher told her.
The citizens who had fled at Gelta’s approach began to filter back into the city, and life in Osthos had almost returned to normal by the time Chief Twengor, accompanied by Duke Bherdor, reached the main gate. Althalus was a bit surprised to discover that Twengor was still avoiding strong ale. “Where’s Khalor?” the vastly bearded Chief asked after he and Althalus had settled accounts.
“He’s away—on business,” Althalus replied evasively.
“He certainly moves around a lot.”
“He’s got a fairly big war on his hands.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk with him about. He was making loud noises about doing something sort of permanent to Kanthon after we’d mauled their armies. Since I’ll be going in that direction on my way home anyway, I thought that maybe he and I should have a little talk.”
“It probably wouldn’t hurt. I see you’ve brought Duke Bherdor with you.”
Twengor nodded. “He’s a good boy, but he’s such an innocent that the merchants in his town were able to bamboozle him about taxes. Now that Poma’s in ruins, he’ll get to start all over from the ground up. I told him that it might go a little smoother if he issued certain commands from Osthos for a while. If he’s going to rebuild Poma, he’s going to need money, and that means taxes. Bherdor wants the people of Poma to like him, and if I’d left him there, the merchants would have been all over him like a flock of vultures. He needs to study ‘firm’ for a while, and this might be the best place for him to get that kind of training.”
; “You’ve changed quite a bit, Chief Twengor.”
“Now that I’m sober, you mean?”
“That might have something to do with it, yes.”
“I was very sorry to hear about that redheaded shepherd,” Twengor said. “It really upset those Wekti boys I had working for me. Did anybody get around to doing anything about it?”
“Brother Bheid took care of it.”
“I wasn’t talking about a funeral, Althalus.”
“Neither was I. Bheid pounded a sword through the man who killed Salkan.”
“A priest?” Twengor demanded incredulously. “I thought they weren’t supposed to do that.”
“I guess Bheid thought it was a special situation.”
“I will never understand the lowlanders,” Twengor said.
The chill of autumn had stripped the trees of their leaves by the time the invading armies had been driven out of Andine’s realm, and the Dukes and Arum Clan Chiefs gathered in Osthos to consider further action.
“What it finally boils down to is the food supply,” Duke Nitral observed in the conference room late one gloomy afternoon. “Burning off the wheat fields in central Treborea made good sense when we were being invaded, but now that winter’s almost here, I think we’re all having second thoughts about it.”
“I might have an answer to that,” Duke Olkar of Kadon said. “I have quite a few contacts among the grain merchants of Maghu. I’m sure they’ll nudge their prices up just a bit, but there’s plenty of wheat in Perquaine.”
“We have to feed the peasants first,” Andine declared. “I won’t let my children starve.”
“Your children?” Eliar sounded startled.
“Emmy’s been talking to her, Eliar,” Gher advised his friend, “and you know how Emmy is about things like that.”
“You’ll strip the treasury, my Arya,” Lord Dhakan cautioned.
“That’s just too bad. This is an emergency.”
“The mother of Treborea hath spoken,” Leitha intoned. “Pay heed unto her, lest she send you all to bed without any supper.”
The Redemption of Althalus Page 59