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Authors: Gary Gygax

Tags: #Science Fiction, #General, #Fantasy, #Fiction

Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 1 - Anubis Murders (9 page)

BOOK: Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 1 - Anubis Murders
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"How did you guess that?!" the Behon demanded, forgetting his place.

"A small thing actually," Setne said with apparent humility, but his statement cut off the rebuke the prince was about to utter. "Even one of moderate wit would realize that to make the evil Set the over-deity of all Avillonia, each of its five royal houses would have to be forced into compliance. That means five of these figurines were delivered: to Albion, Cymru, Caledonia, Hybernia, and this one before us to Camelough, capital of Lyonnesse." The wizard-priest held out his hands, palm upward in a gesture of helplessness. "That much is easy, the rest another thing altogether.

"Be that as it may, I am as much at a loss to explain this as you. I fear that what I have seen gives me no clue as to this so-called 'Master of Jackals,' or his plans and purposes, than any of you." Setne duplicated his gesture of uncertainty, but then asked, "Why do you suppose you were given six months? The other victims seemed to have been struck down—or complied, or both—in but two months or less."

The prince stood up, glaring at his councillors to assure their silence. "That is as obvious to me as the sending of five of these filthy little idols was to you, Magister Inhetep! This Master of Jackals is now frying bigger fish—Lyonnesse and the other four great kingdoms. Don't you see? He has given us a half year to establish the yolk of the filthy Eastern deity upon us all!"

"Filthy? I cannot but concur, lord," Inhetep said coldly. "Yet I find I must strongly take exception to the remainder of your remark. Now," the Egyptian said, rising and looming over the tall prince, "I believe it is time that Lady Rachelle and I withdraw. It will not be possible for me to offer further assistance."

"Wait!" commanded Crown Prince Llewyn.

"As one ecclesiastic to another, pray remain," Archdruid Tallesian added.

The Behon likewise spoke, "Inhetep, I second that request as one scholar to another."

Rachelle looked at the bard. "What, Aldriss, have you nothing to say in this regard?" she asked mockingly. She turned to Inhetep, seeing him rod-straight and expressionless. "I am by your side, my lord ur-kheri-heb. None will challenge our departure." There was veiled menace in her lilting contralto.

"I must accept the blame for hasty words. I meant no offense and ask that you allow me to withdraw any which cast aspersions on your great land, Magister," the prince said as if through a closing throat. His pained expression showed that he was very unused to such apologies.

The Magister sat down. "Then I can only accept your graciousness, Highness. I will ask a few more questions . . ."

"Do so by all means," Llewyn urged.

"Which of the other four kings have full knowledge of this affair?"

The heir to the throne of Lyonnesse made a little sign, and the Behon responded to the wizard-priest's query. "Each of the crowned heads of Avillonia is similarly protected from dangers as is King Glydel, Magister Inhetep. The steward for young King Finn is handling the matter in Galway. The Laird Campbell is likewise standing betwixt this fiend calling himself the Master of Jackals and King Malcome of Cala-donia. In Cymru I have spoken personally to Archmage Trigg, who is the chief advisor to King Owen, and he has assured me that the whole is well in hand. Only King Dennis of Albion is directly involved." The chief judge of Lyonnesse paused and looked at Inhetep, silently awaiting his further questions.

The Egyptian switched subjects. "What of this wheel?"

"The wheel, as you put it, is the most powerful—"

"Of course, of course, man!" Setne broke into the Behon's lecture with a sharp-edged voice. "There isn't an apprentice of dweomercraeft or novice cleric in all Egypt who isn't aware of the Nine and Ninety Celestial Artifacts! I am asking what you have done about the demand for it by the murderer."

"Oh," the Ovate said with subdued voice. "Prince ... ?"

"Nothing!" Llewyn spat in answer. "That sort of demand cannot be granted."

Inhetep looked skeptical. "Even at the risk of many lives—your own certainly among them?"

The prince shrugged. "To yield that would place the whole kingdom into the palm of the Master of Jackals' hand," he said without force. His face showed as much uncertainty as did his evasive answer to the wizard-priests's query.

"So the Jackal wishes to control Lyonnesse by means of possession of the Wheel of the Tuatha de Danann as well as the imposition of Set. . . ."

"Yes," the Kellts said in chorus.

"Similar demands have been made to the other rulers of the Five Crowns?"

"Well . .." the Behon began.

"Exactly," Prince Llewyn snapped. "We are in contact with all concerned. The fiend has demanded from each of us the great magickal objects which enable sovereignty."

Inhetep stood up for a second time. "Allow me, please, to examine this purported statuette of Anubis." Llewyn nodded; the other three had no objections save cautionary murmurings. "No need to fear. I shall exercise utmost discretion. Besides, this chamber is triply warded."

It was time to see what was on the Jackal's mind, Setne thought, as he stooped near the little figurine. He drew forth an enspelled lens and inspected minutely the carved stone. It was onyx, and the jet hue of the jackal head was as natural as the pale, milky color of the figurine's kilt. "This is incredible!" he announced. The workmanship was masterful, the stone perfect, and the carving that of only one origin. "It
is
Egyptian!" The faceted eyes were probably from Hind, and the inlaid gold must be checked to see if its foreign admixtures discounted it coming from his native land, but Setne felt that would not be the case. He put away the crystal lens.

"Are you finished?" the prince inquired.

"No. I must see . . ." Inhetep replied distractedly as he drew forth several other small items. Without saying more, the wizard-priest began to lay castings of discovery. The aura of the figurine, its enchantments, powers, even its history and possessors were subject to such magickal inquisition. The object shimmered with halos of oddly hued radiances, but only to Setne's vision, for the others there able to discern aural lights had not empowered themselves to do so. This was the ^Egyptian's work. Inhetep saw the emanations of evil as an indistinct cloud surrounding the statuette. Malign power and danger. The thing was charged with many forms of heka— the energy of stone, attendance by the supernatural and, greater still, that of the uttermost nethersperes. It was very old. How many millennia? Inhetep was uncertain, but over six thousand years had slipped past since the carving of this work. It had been done by a faithful young cleric of Anubis, passed to an official—Setne saw an overseer, a governor of one of Egypt's many sepats. There followed next a beautiful woman, a high-ranking military officer, then a succession of foreigners, the last of whom was a merchant who passed it to another—an Egyptian. There followed many nondescript impressions. Then the reading became hazy. Power of another sort had been imposed, and it was the energy of a
sahu.
That meant the figure had been entombed with some mummy only a few hundred years after its fashioning. There was a brief light, as if it had been brought forth from the tomb and might again have recorded impressions, only magick interposed. This time it was a deliberate obscuring.

"Come on, Inhetep! What is it you see?" Crown Prince Llewyn demanded.

"Too much and too little," the wizard-priest told him. "I will have to employ less subtle means," he informed the five who were watching. It was not a request. It took only a few second to begin the incantation, and soon the power of words and ritual brought a nimbus of golden sparks to dance around the little figure. Suddenly the amber luminosities were sucked into the statuette, and as they were absorbed the figure became larger and less distinct. Inhetep gasped in surprise. He stepped back a pace, for the mask of the Master of Jackals had suddenly solidified out of the haze of the enspelled object.

"You!" The sound hissed from the mouth opening. "Servant of Thoth, get thee from this place! You will not oppose your own gods, will you? Heed, Setne Inhetep, and I shall place you in a noble position. Disobey, and you will be cut down as these infidels will be soon should they fail me. That is what the mind of the Master of Jackals reveals to you. You may seek no more," the voice hissed evilly. There was a rush of wind, a loud clap, and all magick was gone from the salon. So was the figurine.

UNDERGROUND SECRETS

There were only the two of them now, Setne and Rachelle, and they were back in their suite of rooms in the Prince House Inn. It was near evening, and Inhetep hadn't moved from his chair since they had returned just before noon. "Setne, I'm hungry," Rachelle said conversationally. She had been trying to stay unobtrusive and keep busy, while the wizard-priest meditated. Inhetep made no response. Rachelle sat down across from him and tried to fix her gaze on his green eyes, but the Egyptian was looking slightly upwards with a fixed stare indicating that he saw nothing. "O Greatest of Ur-kheri-hebu, O One Whose Wisdom is as Thoth's . . ."

"Stop that nonsense!"

The words seemed to come from behind her, but Rachelle knew his trick of ventriloquism. The hawk-faced man was irritated at being disturbed and was trying to get her to go away—or else strike up a conversation with a vase or bedpost. Rachelle had to smile, for he had duped her into that sort of thing a few times in the past. The wily spellbinder would use his voice-throwing ruse, then cause some petty spirit of the aether or similar origin to occupy the furniture and converse banally with whomever spoke to the confining object. Some of these forces were tricky and inventive, and the conversation might go on for an hour or more. "That's a useless ploy, bald-pate," Rachelle said firmly, still looking at Inhetep. "I want to talk to you, not some dumb spirit, and I want to speak now!"

"A dumb spirit would not converse at all, and you are speaking, I believe," the magister said with acid tones, still gazing off into space.

"Setne Inhetep, you pay attention to me this instant!"

Inhetep sighed, shut his eyes a moment, then looked at Rachelle and smiled. "Very well, guard and mistress of my household, you have my humble apologies and complete attention," he said sincerely, even though a portion of the Egyptian's mind was still engaged busily with the problem of the statuette. "What service may I perform?

"I am hungry," Rachelle snapped.

"Am I to cook our supper, then, or would you have me conjure up some enchanted fare?"

Rachelle made a moue. "You know very well that isn't what I want, Setne. There is a small banquet tonight at the castle.
That's
where I wish to dine this night!"

"But of course," Inhetep said effusively. His long face was wreathed in smiles, and he arose, swooped, and before she knew it the girl was on her feet and being propelled toward her chambers. "Certainly, dear Rachelle, it shall be as you wish. I confess I have let the matter slip from my mind, but there—you've reminded me! Do put on your gown and be ready in an hour. I wouldn't have you miss the festivities for the world," Setne added as he shut the intervening door.

She thought it highly unusual behavior on Setne's part. He was never eager to attend functions of such nature as court dinners, doubly so when he was working on some criminal problem of a mysterious nature. Thinking that perhaps she had managed to select the perfect time to make her demand, the proverbial weak moment, Rachelle went about her preparations. She was happy and pleased. In less than an hour, wonder of wonders, she returned to the big parlor between her rooms and those of the wizard-priest. "What are
you
doing here?!" Her voice carried a note of real surprise.

"You look as lovely as a princess of Faerie," Sir Aldriss said with a sweeping bow of greeting. "Pray forgive me if I startled you, but I assumed that when Magister Inhetep requested I call for you, he had made the arrangement at your request."

"Arrangement? Request?" Rachelle was filled with annoyance, which would grow into anger if she allowed her emotions free rein. "No matter, Sir Bard. I must ask you to pardon my . . . happy surprise. Of course I expected to be taken to the royal banquet this evening, and my astonishment was provoked by seeing you, dear Aldriss. I had not hoped for anything other than some common escort, shall we say."

The chief bard beamed. "You will fairly have the court abuzz when they see you on my arm, lady. Shall we be off, then?"

"In but a moment, sir. Did the magister say where ... ?"

Aldriss looked slightly annoyed, then an expression signifying the return of memory spread over his handsome face. "Ah, how could I be so forgetful? Here is a note which the worthy priest-mage left for you. May I open and read it for you?"

"No, you may not," Rachelle replied sweetly but with steely edge in her tone. "It will be in Hieratic Script—can you read such writing?" Without waiting for a response, she took the hastily proffered square of parchment, broke the seal, unfolded it, and read the contents:

Better you go alone, Rachelle, for I have an important clue. Each of us can thus be working on this very thorny problem. Watch over all there this night to ward against attack, magick, etc. Always be wary of anything unusual which occurs at the banquet. Record such events for my return, and we shall discuss them then. Expect to be gone for some hours, so don't wait my return. Always, Lovingly & Dutiful, Regretfully, etc. Setne Inhetep, Magister

BOOK: Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 1 - Anubis Murders
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