Empire of the East (10 page)

“How, then?” Thomas wiped rain from his own eyes. This was becoming a soggy desert indeed. He felt vaguely cheered by the reflection that a certain mirage-plant might be the first of its species ever to drown.

Olanthe was looking down at her hands folded in her lap. “The commander of the invaders' garrison…that is…he wanted…”

“Something to do with you?”

“Yes…me.” She nodded, and looked up. “When I was unwilling, they made threats…” She fell silent, until Thomas reached out and took her hand.

“Afterward—” She had to clear her throat and start over. “Afterward, my father was—he happened to have the Thunderstone in his fields at the time. He unearthed it from its hiding place—”

The latest bolt came smashing down at the Stone forty or fifty meters away, making Thomas jump for all that he had been expecting it, jarring his teeth and bones anew.

“—and, pretending to curry favor, he gave it to the garrison commander. My father acted as if he was pleased that the pig had taken a fancy to me. My father told him that the Stone had something to do with the Oasis' rain, but of course he never mentioned lightning.

“They—they stood talking inside the invaders' compound, there, in what used to be a park. My father said later that he could hear the thunder starting overhead while they stood there, and he smiled at his enemy, the man who had…and then the commander turned away, with the Thunderstone under his arm, to walk across the parade-ground to his quarters. He never finished his walk.”

Thomas nodded. He squeezed Olanthe's hand slightly. She went on: “Next day a soldier picked the Stone up and brought it right to the one who had been second in command, and was now in charge. They knew it was something of magical importance, but they guessed no more than that. Before another storm could break over their heads they had put the Thunderstone into the pouch of a courier reptile and dispatched it to the wizards at the Castle. We knew this because we could see the growing storm follow the reptile out over the desert. We knew the storm must catch up before the leather-wing reached the Castle. It was necessary for someone to go out and recover the Stone, before it fell again into the hands of enemies or strangers. Without it, the Oasis would die for lack of water.”

“How were you chosen?”

“A girl can search as well as a man. And others of the enemy would be—would be after me, now that the old commander is dead. And my father would do something else—and perhaps bring destruction on us all.

“So the elders were willing enough that I should leave, and they gave me the Stone of Freedom, which for its bearer sets fences and guards and all confinements at naught. Now I must return the Thunderstone to the Oasis somehow, and then—I don't know what I'll do.”

“I see.” Thomas shifted in his drenched clothes. The rain was thinning again. The Thunderstone had not been moved far by the latest bolt—he could see it, a small dark lump on the sand.

He stretched out his hand with the Stone of Freedom in it to Olanthe. “The Stones are yours. But tell me, what use are they, what use is life itself, to your people, as long as the invaders are there?”

She accepted the Stone. “What can we do? What are you getting at? I must take back the Thunderstone or all will perish.”

“The Oasis can live for a few more days at least without it. And remember this: while it's there, the enemy may find it, realize what it is, and perfect his power over you.”

She asked again, pleading now, “What can we do?”

Thomas smiled. He stood up, just as the sun broke out once more. “I can think of several things. And I know those who will be able to think of more. Come with me to the swamps!”

Dazed as he was by the blow on the head, Rolf still had wit enough left to realize that the soldiers thought him nothing more than a thief, who had been trying to get aboard one of the barges in the river. They asked him no questions, and he said nothing at all.

Feet hobbled and hands bound painfully behind him, he was taken to a command post concealed in trees right by the riverbank. His head throbbing, he sat on the ground and tried to think of nothing. There were too many soldiers for him to have a hope of getting loose, and they seemed discouragingly capable as they went about their routines of duty.

At earliest daylight the watch was changed. The soldiers who had caught Rolf now tied a leading cord around his neck, freed his legs, and took him up the road to the Castle, tethered behind a riding-beast like some small animal being led to slaughter.

The journey was not long. The road followed the west bank of the Dolles for a couple of kilometers, joining on the way with other roads that converged toward the pass. Shortly the pass came in sight, with the village and its bridge in the foreground, and the Castle brooding above.

Crossing the bridge, Rolf raised his eyes to the northeast, looking at the high, distant rocks that only a day ago had hidden him in safety. Now he saw that which deepened his despair—reptiles were on those rocks, and in the air above them, thick as flies on dead meat. And, marching up that slope, like bronze-black ants, a company of soldiers.

The enemy had found the cave, then. That must be it. Rolf brought his eyes back to the bridge under his feet, hardly aware any longer of his surroundings. He was lost, and all else too.

Once over the bridge, the soldiers began to relax their vigilance. In the nearly deserted village square they halted, straightening their uniforms, evidently getting in proper shape for appearance in the Castle.

Rolf stood staring dully at the rump of the riding-beast that he was tethered to, until a movement at the corner of his eye caused him to turn his aching head. The village inn, a two-story timber structure, was evidently still in business, for two men were standing on its porch.

His heart leaped when he recognized Mewick. There could be no mistake, the lean figure was the same, though liberal streaks of gray in the dark hair had added twenty years of age—added them credibly, when seen above the lined gravity of Mewick's face. The short cloak and the magic peddler's pack were gone. Mewick was wearing moderately rich clothing now, putting Rolf in mind of merchants he had seen now and then, who were said to be from far islands in the sea.

Rolf looked away, holding his face blank. Let him make one blunder now, and Mewick could be dragged away beside him, both to meet some grimmer fate than that of a mere thief. Desperately, Rolf tried to think of some way of passing on to Mewick his new knowledge of the Elephant.

The porch of the inn was not ten meters distant. He could hear Mewick talking with a rotund man, perhaps the innkeeper, about problems of trade and shipping, the prevalence of bandits. Mewick sounded gloomy as ever. Let him ask something about the soldiers swarming on yonder hill—let him ask
something
that I can answer yes or no, thought Rolf, and I will nod my head or shake it, enough for him to see.

But Mewick asked no such thing—dared not, or could not think of a useful question that could be made to sound innocent. Rolf could not either. Tonight when he was in the dungeon they would both think of ten questions Mewick might have asked. Or of some other way of passing information. But at least Rolf knew that Mewick must have seen him—that was something, that his fate was not entirely unknown to his friends. Staring straight ahead, Rolf made one nodding motion of his head.

The soldiers were ready now, and dragged him on again. Once out of the little village, the road ascended, worn deep here by the daily passage of an army. The walls and towers of the Castle swelled with nearness now. The main gate stood open, the portcullis looking more than ever like the teeth in some vast jaw.

In an inner courtyard, where the stables were, Rolf's bonds were taken off, and he was given to guards who wore no bronze helmets and carried no swords, but had only keys and cudgels at their belts. These pushed him into a doorway at the base of the keep, and from thence led him downward over worn, damp stairs. Just underground, the passage became level, dark and narrow. It was lined with cells, separated by heavy grilles of iron. Some of these were crowded with wretched figures while others waited empty, doubtless for the return of slaves who labored somewhere up above. The smell was worse than that of any animal pen that Rolf had ever visited. Rolf was sent with an impersonal kick to join the apathetic bodies in one cell, and the door was made fast behind him.

 

The morning light that entered so poorly into those upper dungeons had little better success in penetrating the richly curtained windows of the upper tower. It was not the sun that awoke the Satrap Ekuman today, but voices, quietly excited, just outside his chamber door.

Blinking, he roused himself in his vast bed. When his concubine of the night, who was curled sleeping like some soft beast at her master's feet, made a movement that impeded his stretching, he kicked at her irritably. Once on his feet, he wrapped his body in a fur gown, then spent a moment in setting aside the magical defense that guarded the door of his bedchamber from within, before he called out to know whose business brought them to him at this hour.

It was the Master of the Reptiles who was passed in by the guards. This Master was a small man, usually phlegmatic in his manner. But his face was now aglow with triumph, so that the sight of him made Ekuman's hopes blaze up before the man had spoken.

“Sire, we have found the Elephant for you!” That said, the Master rushed quickly on with explanations, as Ekuman's expression bade him do—how he had zealously investigated yesterday's report of a strange rumbling noise, heard by reptiles, coming from under the ground on the north side of the pass. And then birds had attacked troopers, during last night's maneuvers in that area—

“The Elephant, the Elephant! Have you news of it or not?”

“Yes, Lord!”

At break of dawn the Master had sent hordes of reptiles to those rocks, under orders to cover them centimeter by centimeter, crawling if need be, to find the cause of the strange noise. They had found, first, the entrance to a cave, holding signs that at least one human had recently been there, and birds as well—

Observing the countenance of his Lord, the Master of the Reptiles swallowed some words, hastily condensing his story further. One reptile at least had seen the Elephant in that cave—a thing of metal, huge as a house, with the familiar symbol painted on its flanks.

“Very good. You will be well rewarded, if all this proves to be the truth.” Ekuman tossed the man a jeweled ring, in token of more to come. Then the Satrap, half-dressed as he was, descended to the lower level of the tower. Here a doorway brought him out onto the flat roof of the keep, from whence a good view could be had of the country across the pass.

The Master of Reptiles, basking in his favor, hurried just behind. His other chief subordinates, he knew, would be gathering round him momentarily, as soon as they heard the tidings of the great discovery. And in fact Ekuman had no more than rested his hands on the northern battlement, when there came the sound of many climbing feet upon a nearby stair. Turning, he saw the Master of the Troops coming up, with his officers and aides behind him.

Frowning at the Master of the Troops, a tough graying soldier named Garl, Ekuman demanded, “Just what are all those men doing over there?”

Garl's face, which had been set to join in his Lord's triumph, quickly sobered. “Lord, we are…consolidating the position against possible enemy action. And I am waiting only for your word to send men into the cave itself.”

Ekuman nodded. “You do well to await my word before taking such a step.”

Zarf had come up just in time to hear the last exchange of speech. “Lord,” he volunteered, “it will be best if I am first into this cave.” Then he bowed slightly as the older wizard came puffing unimpressively up the stairs. “Or Master Elslood, of course. If he is not required to be busy elsewhere.”

Ekuman turned away from his wizards. Elslood and Zarf were well and firmly under his thumb, and through them, all the others here. Yet he had heard of other Satraps who doubtless had been as firmly seated and still had been overthrown by intrigues in their own households—Som the Dead never seemed to care, if the usurpers served him with equal or greater dedication.

So Ekuman did not mean to trust a power as great as the Elephant's under the personal control of anyone except himself. At least, he meant to reserve that option until he had learned much more about the Elephant than his wizards had yet been able to tell him.

Ekuman said to Garl, “Signal at once to those across the pass. No human is to enter that cave until I personally have given permission.”

This signaling was promptly attended to. Then noticing the Master of the Harem hovering in the background, Ekuman was reminded of another matter to be taken care of. He beckoned to the eunuch and said, “That girl I had last night acted like one half-sick. Dispose of her.”

“At once, Lord.” Then the eunuch reached behind him and with a conjurer's motion pulled forward a short slender figure, garbed in a harem gown—until now the girl had been hidden behind his bulk. “This girl I think will be very lively, Lord. She was brought in two days ago, and at my direction has been examined carefully and reserved for you.”

“Hm.” Engrossed as he was with other matters, Ekuman took time to look at this girl. Dark-haired and very young and certainly attractive. Her face colored when the eunuch opened her gown. Silent, yet brave enough to scowl openly at him in hate—yes, she was interesting. “Very well. But now is not the time for harem matters.” He dismissed the eunuch with a wave.

The Master of the Reptiles stood now at Ekuman's side, and put what seemed to be a new sense of his own importance into a tiny sound of throat-clearing. “Lord? Is it your wish that I should make ready a courier to send East? With word of our discovery?”

The man was already grown presumptuous. But Ekuman would let him puff a little yet, that correction when it came might be the more precise and salutary. “No, I will send no word of this discovery yet. Not until I am more certain of just what has been discovered yonder.” If Elephant's power was all that had been hinted, it was just possible that with it under his control he might even be able to face east one day without cringing in utter subservience—but no, he would not let even his inner thoughts follow that line. Not yet.

From the direction of the ascending stair, a loud masculine voice said, “Well! The prettiest little piece I've seen in about a month!”

Ekuman turned once again, to greet his neighbor and son-in-law to be. The Satrap Chup was just mounting to the roof-terrace, golden Charmian on his arm. Ekuman knew quite well the signals of his daughter's face; and glancing at her now he felt immediately certain that Chup's thoughtless exclamation of praise for the new young dark-haired slave would cost Chup some future moment's peace if nothing more.

Ekuman's chief sensation as he thought about his daughter's impending marriage was one of relief; her dedication to petty malice was so strong that he felt sure her departure would rid his household of a whole vortex of minor intrigues. In fact he thought with some approval that Charmian's presence might ultimately weaken Chup, and that would bode well for Ekuman's own ambition. There were recurring whispers on the wind saying that some one of the coastal Satraps might soon be promoted to a position of suzerainty over all the others. These were whispers only, perhaps meant merely to keep them all vying with one another to serve the East, but still…

Chup came pacing to Ekuman's side. He leaned his tall warrior's frame, dressed in rich cloth of red and black, upon the parapet, and looked out at the activity of men and reptiles on the north side of the pass.

Ekuman said conversationally, “I thought, brother, that I might ride forth this afternoon, to oversee this treasure-hunt my men are on. No doubt you've heard the tales? If you would care to ride with me, of course, you will be welcome.”

Ekuman had phrased the invitation in a style that left it quite open to acceptance or polite refusal, and Chup elected to return the latter. “Naturally, elder brother, your company is always a delight. And riding, even to poke around among some rocks, would be a form of exercise. But—well, unless you—”

Ekuman let himself suddenly remember something. “In truth it was a rather poor suggestion for amusement. I have another, much more suited to a true warrior's taste. You might divert yourself and at the same time render me a true service in preparing for the wedding celebration. As you know, I plan some gladiatorial entertainment on that day—nothing professional, just some of these sturdy farm lads—”

“I like to watch amateurs go at it, if they've any spirit.”

“Just so, Brother Chup. Would you deign to visit the dungeons with my Master of the Games? I'm sure no one in my employ could pick out fighting men as well as you can. You may even find one or two with real training—if not, I know you'll spot the raw ability…”

Chup was nodding agreement, though with little enthusiasm, as Ekuman maneuvered him away toward the stair. The Master of the Harem trailed in the rear, the arm of the dark-haired slave-girl firmly in his massive grip. Charmian, her ethereal face disfigured by one of her petty rages, was staring after them. The princess was now alone upon the roof-terrace, except for her personal maid—and one other.

Elslood the wizard stood before Charmian and bowed his massive gray head slightly. He was marking the hatred with which her eyes followed the lovely slave-girl. “My Princess?”

Her eyes turned on him, losing their look of hate but remaining as hopelessly distant as ever. “Well?” she demanded. Soon she would be gone, and he unable to follow. While she was yet here, he would take great risks, hoping nothing more than to please her. Such was his doom, and he could do nothing about it but try to conceal it from others; he could not even do that, he knew with a sinking feeling, the very maidservant was now smiling at him openly.