Dark Sun: Prism Pentad 1 - The Verdent Passage (8 page)

Agis followed, continuing to press. “The caravan captains claim the Dragon is coming
toward Tyr, and the king is ignoring our pleas to raise an army.”

“Don't tell me you accept all that nonsense about the Dragon, Agis?”

The Dragon was the terror of all travelers, a horrid monster of the desert that routinely
wiped out whole caravans. Until recently, Agis had believed it was no more than a myth,
dismissing tales of the thing devouring whole armies and laying waste to entire cities as
fanciful fabrications. He had changed his mind during the last month, however, when sober
and trustworthy men had begun to report glimpses of it at ever-decreasing distances from
Tyr.

Agis replied, “I think the king would be well advised to take the threat seriously. He
should stop wasting his money and manpower on the ziggurat and start preparing for the
defence of our estates and his city.”

“If he believed in the Dragon, I'm sure he would,” Tithian replied.

They crested the gentle hill that hid the reservoir from the rest of
Agis's estate. Below them stretched green acres of tall faro, the dwarf cactus-tree grown
as a cash crop by many of Tyr's nobles. The faro itself was almost as tall as a man and
had a handful of scaly stems that rose to a tangled crown of needle-covered boughs. The
fields were crisscrossed at regular intervals by a network of muddy irrigation ditches. In
the center of the farm sat the ancestral Asticles mansion, its marble dome echoing the
shape of the distant mountains that ringed the Tyr Valley.

“What's your secret, my friend?” Tithian asked, pausing to run an appreciative eye over
Agis's lush fields. “It's all that anyone else can do to produce a few hundred bushels of
needles a year, but your farm is covered by an orchard.”

Agis smiled at the compliment. “There's no secret to it,” he said. “I just took a lesson
from a druid.”

“And what did you learn?” Tithian asked.

Treat the land well and eat well. Abuse it and starve.“ Agis pointed at the tawny plain of
barren dust and sand lying beyond the borders of his estate. ”If everyone followed that
simple rule, the rest of the Tyr Valley would be as lush as my farm."

Perhaps you should come and explain this discovery of yours to Kalak,“ Tithian replied,
his cynical tone suggesting that he found what Agis told him difficult to believe. ”I'm
sure he'd be interested in such a marvel."

“I doubt it,” the noble replied. “Kalak's only interest in the valley is draining it of
every last ounce of magic-giving lifeforce it can provide, regardless of what it does to
the land.”

“Be careful who you say such things to, my friend,” Tithian said. “That comment borders on
treason.”

Still carrying the ceramic carafe of wine, Tithian started down the narrow path that led
toward the estate mansion. As he descended the slope, Agis was surprised by the total
absence of slaves in his fields. It was true that he worked them mainly in the relatively
cool hours of the morning and evening, but even in the heat of the afternoon there should
have been a few men in the fields to watch the irrigation ditches and clear any blockages.
He made a mental note to speak to Caro when he returned to the house, then turned his
thoughts to what he might learn from Tithian.

“A week ago, Urik's emissary threatened war if we don't start shipping iron again,” Agis
said, bringing up a point that he knew the templar could not dismiss lightly. “We can't do
it because Kalak has taken the slaves out of the mine to work on his ziggurat. How long
does the king think he can continue to ignore the city's problems?”

Tithian stopped and faced Agis. They were now surrounded by snarled faro boughs. “How did
you find out about the emissary?” the templar asked, clearly shocked.

“If the high templars have spies in the Senate,” Agis responded evenly, “it stands to
reason that the Senate has spies in the High Bureaus.”

The truth of the matter was that the Senate had been trying for years to recruit a spy in
the king's bureaucracy, which whether they liked to admit it or not, was where the real
political power lay in Tyr. Unfortunately, they had always failed. Agis was simply trying
to confirm a rumor he had heard from a caravan merchant. If he happened to cause a little
turmoil among the templars, that was fine.

“How did Kalak respond to Urik's threat?” Agis asked.

To the noble's surprise, Tithian sighed, then dropped his gaze. “He sent the envoy's head
back, carried by a merchant caravan.”

“What?” Agis shrieked.

Tithian nodded grimly.

“Is he
trying
to start a war?”

The high templar shrugged. “Who knows? All I can say is that he seemed very pleased with
himself.”

Agis was almost as shocked by Tithian's candor as he was by the news itself. Normally a
high templar, especially this one, would be discreet about such things. “Why are you
telling me this, Tithian?” the senator asked suspiciously. “What do you want from me?”

Tithian appeared hurt and did not answer immediately. Instead, he took a long drink from
his carafe, then studied the contents for several seconds. At last, he looked up.

“I suppose I deserve even your suspicion, Agis,” he said.

You must know that you're the only man I have ever considered a friend."

“That's very flattering, Tithian,” Agis answered care-fully, “but we're hardly in the
habit of sharing confidences. Forgive me if I seem skeptical.”

Tithian gave Agis a smile. “Believe me or not, it makes no difference. There has always
been a certain bond of circumstance between you and me. More importantly you've always
treated me with consideration-even when others didn't.”

“I don't think the worst of anyone until I've seen it for myself,” Agis allowed
cautiously. “Still, you must admit, this is the first time since we were boys that we've
truly spoken of friendship.”

Because their family estates were near to each other Agis and Tithian had grown up as
friends. They had even attended schooling in the Way of the Unseen together, though
Tithian had hardly been an enthusiastic student. Unfortunately, his indolence and
rebelliousness had made him something of an outcast with the master and other students,
but Agis's friendship had not wavered.

Later, Tithian's father had selected a younger brother to lead the Mericles family.
Tithian was so furious that he had committed the ultimate class betrayal and joined the
ranks of the templars. Agis's friendship had not wavered even when the younger brother had
died under mysterious circumstances and everyone had suspected TithianÑ unjustly, the
senator had believedÑof committing the murder to recover control of his family estate.

Though their friendship had never really come to an end, they had drifted apart over the
years. Tithian had risen higher and higher in the templar ranks, Agis had inherited his
family's estate, and their interests had grown increasingly opposed to each other. In the
end, it had simply been easier to let their close fellowship drift to an
end than
to strain it
by trying
to ignore
their conflicting concerns.

The templar sipped at the wine in his carafe. When he did not respond to Agis's
observation after several moments, the noble continued in a careful tone. “What is it that
you need from me?”

Tithian's face clouded with anger. For several moments, he stared at Agis with a sneer
upon his lips. Finally he hurled the carafe to the ground. It shattered into a dozen
pieces on the hard-packed soil of the path.

“I speak in the king's name!” the templar spat. I have the power to cake
anything I wish from you!"

Glancing at the smashed carafe, Agis calmly raised an eyebrow. “Why is our friendship
suddenly so important?”

Tithian ran his soft, bejeweled hands over his face. “With all that's happening,” he said,
“I just want you to know how I feel.”

As if embarrassed by the emotion, the high templar started back toward the house. Agis
followed, silently wondering if he had been treating his boyhood friend unjustly.

A few moments later, Tithian stopped in the middle of the trail. With his eyes fixed on
the faro alongside the path, he reached for the dagger beneath his cloak. Following the
templar's gaze, Agis saw a two-foot slug inching its way up one of the trunks. It was
covered with half-a-dozen green scales that served as excellent camouflage, and it had a
long snakelike neck that ended in a narrow head with a beak as sharp as a faro thorn.

Agis quickly caught his friend's arm. “There's no need to kill it.”

“But it's a fruit varl!” Tithian objected.

“I can afford to lose a few pieces of fruit.” Because faro trees blossomed only once a
decade, each piece of the sweet fruit was a delicacy worth almost as much as the tree
itself.

Shaking his head, Tithian said, “With thinking like that, I don't know how you pay the
king's taxes.”

“It's because of such thinking that I can,” Agis explained. "All things are linked
together in a chain of life.

If you destroy one of the links, then the chain is broken"

Tithian scoffed.

“You commented earlier on my orchard” Agis said “Would you like to know one of the reasons
it grows so well?”

The templar raised an eyebrow.

Agis pointed to the scaly slug. “When the varl eats the fruit, it eats the seed. As the
seed passes through its system, its stomach fluids eat away the black coating on the
outside. Seeds without black coatings sprout twice as often as seeds with coatings.”

“How do you know all this?” Tithian asked.

“I spent a week following varls,” Agis replied, allowing an embarrassed grin to creep
across his lips.

“Most ingenious,” the high templar replied. “You can rest assured that your secret will be
safe with me.”

“Tell anyone you like. It won't affect the price of faro needles,” Agis said. “Too many
people would rather sell their fruit today than harvest their needles tomorrow.”

“That's certainly true,” Tithian said. He smiled and returned his dagger to its sheath,
then started toward the house again.

Agis followed.

“You didn't get to where you are today without being as intelligent as you are ruthless,
Tithian,” the noble said diplomatically. “So I'm sure you've already figured out exactly
how you're going to meet the king's deadline for completing the ziggurat.”

Tithian nodded, lifting his head so he could glance toward Agis's house. “Why yes, I have.”

“Still, since you've come as a friend, it doesn't see out of place to offer a friend's
advice,” Agis said.

Tithian paused on a small stone slab bridging an irrigation ditch, looking at Agis out of
the corner of his eye.

“And what would that be?”

“Treat your slaves as you would your own family,” Agis responded “Feed them well and give
them a warm place to sleep. Not only will they be stronger, they'll work harder.”

“Out of gratitude?” Tithian smirked. He shook his head, then resumed walking. ''If you
believe that, then I've picked a fool for a friend."

“Have you tried it?”

“Agis, for your own good, listen to me,” Tithian said, speaking over his shoulder without
slowing. “No matter how well they're treated, slaves hate their masters. Maybe they don't
let it show, and maybe they don't even realize it themselves. But give them the
opportunity and they'll massacre us every timeÑno matter how tame they seem while we're
holding the lash.”

“If they're murderers, it's because their owners make them that way,” Agis objected.

“Yes,” Tithian replied, touching a finger to his forehead. “You're beginning to
understand.”

Agis bristled at the templar's patronizing tone. “My slavesÑ”

“Would like to be rid of you as much as you'd like to be rid of Kalak. The difference is
that
you
might be foolish enough to give your slaves a chance,” Tithian said. “You'll have to be
more careful during the next few weeks.”

'“What do you mean by that?” Agis demanded. He was still talking to Tithian's back and
resenting it more with each step.

Tithian ran his hand over the top of his head and down his tail of braided hair. “Nothing
threatening,” he said evasively. “Things are growing difficult in Tyr; you must be on the
watch for treachery everywhere. Just this morning, I discovered that one of my own slaves
is in the Veiled Alliance.”

“No!” Agis exclaimed, unable to stifle a chuckle. The thought of the Alliance operating
right beneath a high templar's nose was too much for him to bear in silence “Yes, it's
quite amusing, isn't it?” Tithian's voice was tinged with acid.

“I'm sorry,” Agis said, suddenly understanding Tithian's comments regarding his slaves.
“What did you do?”

“Nothing, yet,” Tithian replied, crossing the last ditch between the fields and Agis's
house. “I haven't been able to go home to attend the matter.”

Tithian stepped out of the faro into the house's formal rear garden. The garden was a
comfortable space designed to remind Agis of Durwadala's oasis. In the center of the
reserve sat a small pool of azure water, bordered by a sandy bank and a few yards of
golden whip grass. It was covered by the gauzy white boughs of a dozen chiffon trees.

Although Agis had designed the garden to serve as a sanctuary when in need of a tranquil
place to retreat, he felt anything but peaceful as he entered it now. He heard the subdued
murmur of hundreds of hushed voices coming from the other side of the mansion.

“What's that?” Agis demanded, stepping to Tithian's side.

The high templar's face remained impassive. "Perhaps it's your happy slaves gathering to
welcome you back.

The mocking tone alarmed Agis. “What's happening here?”

Without waiting for Tithian's reply, the noble closed his eyes and focused his mind on his
nexus, that space where the three energies of the Way-spiritual, mental and
physical-converged inside his body. He lifted his hand and visualized a rope of tingling
fire running from the
nexus through his torso and into his arm, opening a pathway for the mystic energies of his
being.