Shadows of Sanctuary978-0441806010 (19 page)

'Kadakithis turned his gaze on an ornate Yenizedish tapestry. 'Hanse: neither have I.'

'He is not on a mission for your Highness?'

'Just use the pronoun for me, Hanse, and we can save whole days of our lives. No. He is not. He is missing. Who might wish him to be missing?'

Hanse was wary of being used as informant, but saw no reason not to answer that one. 'Oh, half the people in town. Maybe more. About the same number that would wish the governor to be missing. Your pardon of course. Governor. Or the Emperor. Or Ranke.'

'Hmm. Well, Empire is built on conquest, not love, however often they are the same. But I have striven to be decent here. Fair.'

Hanse considered. 'It is possible that you have been fairer than we might have expected.'

'Nicely put. Carefully chosen words. You may well become a diplomat yet, Shadowspawn. And the Hell Hounds'! What of them?'

Hanse smiled briefly at the slim noble's calling his elite guards by the people's name for them; indeed, even the Hell Hounds called themselves Hell Hounds these days. It was a dramatic name with a romantic and rather sinister sound that appealed to their sort.

'Shall I answer that, to one from Ranke, with all the power there is? What power have I?' .

'You have influence with the Prince-Governor, Hanse, and with his Chief of Security. You uncovered the plot against me and helped break it up. You regained that awful fear-rod, and it cost you. Recently you helped Tempus in a matter, too. Now we are even in one area at least, aren't we?'

'Even? I? Me? Hanse of Sanctuary and the Emperor's brother?'

'Stepbrother,' the prince corrected, and fixed Hanse with a wide-eyed gaze, all blue. It reminded Hanse of his own ingenuous pose. 'Yes. Now we have both killed. I, Bourne. You... the night Tempus lost his horse.'

'The Prince-Governor is not without knowledge,' Hanse observed.

'Another careful, diplomat's phrasing! Now: Tempus set himself to destroying the minions of that Jubal fellow. Do you know why?'

'Maybe Tempus is a racist,' Hanse said, trying to look wide-eyed and ingenuous. It didn't appear to be working. Damn. This golden-locked boy was smarter than Moonflower, despite her extra-human ability. Hanse sighed. 'You know. Jubal is a slaver and those weird-masked employees of his are feared. He has respect, and power. Tempus works for you, for Ranke's power.'

'Let's don't go making wagers on that. Would you say his killing of those in the blue birdmasks might be called murder, Hanse?'

'It might if it was one of us,' Hanse said, to the gleaming top of a low table.

'Surely not for him that calls us Wrigglies, though.'

The prince failed to disguise his little start. 'Strong words, Hanse of Sanctuary. And to one who does not call the Children of Ils "Wrigglies"!'

'Yes, and I really wish I hadn't said it. As a matter of fact I wish I wasn't here at all. How can I share confidences here? How can I say my mind to you, when you aren't a you, but both prince and governor?'

'Hanse: we have been through some things together.' In a manner of speaking, Hanse thought. You weren 't poked with

that damned terror-stick, and you didn't spend half the night down a well and the other on a torturer's table!

'I might even consider myself in your debt,' Kadakithis went on.

'I am getting awfully uncomfortable, my lord ofRanke,' Hanse said elaborately.

'Will my lord Prince tell me why I am here?'

'Damn!' Kadakithis regarded the carpet and heaved a great sigh. 'I've an idea it would be a waste of time to offer you wine, my friend. So I -'

'Friend!'

'Why yes, Hanse,' Kadakithis said, all large of eye and open-looking. 'I call you friend. We are even of an age.'

Hanse erupted to his feet in a jerk that was still admirably sinuous. He paced.

'Oh,' he said, and paced. 'Oh gods. Prince -don't call me friend! Don't let anyone else hear that!'

The prince looked very much as if he wanted to touch him, and was sure that Hanse would shrink away. 'How lonely we both are, Hanse. You won't have any friends, and I can't! I dare trust no one, and you who could trust - you reject even an extended hand.'

Hanse was almost stricken. Friends? He thought of Cudget, dead Cudget. OfMoonflower. OfTempus. Was Tempus a friend? Who could trust Tempus? Who could trust anyone wearing the title 'governor'?

'Ranke and Sanctuary are not friends,' he said slowly, quietly. 'You are Ranke. I am of Sanctuary, and... more. Not, uh, noble.'

'Trusted friend of the governor? The thief Shadowspawn?'

Hanse caught himself about to say 'Thief? Who, me, Governor?' and stopped the words. Kadakithis knew. Nor was he Moonflower or that melon-pedlar Irohunda, to be taken in by Hanse's cultivated (and seldom used) boyish act. But.. .friendf It was a frightening word, to Shadowspawn from Downwind and the Maze.

'Let's try to be bigger than Ranke and Sanctuary. Let's try, Hanse. I am reaching out. Speaking plainly: Tempus declared war on Jubal - not on my orders

- and Jubal retaliated or tried to. You were there and you didn't run. Tempus lost a horse and gained a friend. You defended Tempus, helped him. More Hawkmasks died. Are you in danger for that, from Jubal?'

'Probably. I've been trying not to think about that.'

'And me?'

'The Empire's governor in Sanctuary knows to go forth armed and with guards, because he is governor,' Hanse said, not so enigmatically.

'Diplomatic, careful words again! - And Tempus?'

It was then that Hanse knew why he was here. 'You ... you think Jubal has Tempus!'

The prince regarded him. 'Hanse, some people don't try to be particularly likeable. Tempus seems to try not to be. I cannot imagine calling him friend.'

Kadakithis paused to be certain Hanse grasped his implication. 'Still, I represent the Empire. I govern for Ranke, subject to the Emperor. Tempus serves and represents me, and Ranke. I do not have to love him, or like him. But! How can I tolerate anyone's taking action against any of my people?' Kadakithis made a two-handed gesture while Hanse thought: How strange that I think more of Tempus - Thales - than the Prince-Governor he serves! 'I cannot, Hanse! Nor can I use the Hell Hounds to investigate, not in a really sensitive matter such as this. Nor can I launch attack on Jubal, or even arrest him - not and govern the way I wish to do.'

He really does want to do well, to be friends with Sanctuary! What a strange RankanI 'You could call him in for questioning.' Hanse was hopeful.

'I had rather not.' The young Rankan called Kitty-Kat shot to his feet with admirable use of legs alone, if not with a thief's sinuous grace. 'I had rather acknowledge his existence, can you see that?' He waved a hand in a rustle of aquamarine silk sleeve, took a pace, turned his earnest face on Hanse. 'I am governor here. I am Empire. He is -'

'Gods, Prince, I'm only a damned thief!'

Kadakithis frowned and glanced around, ignoring Hanse's look of horror at his blurted words. 'Did you hear someone say something, just then?'

'No.'

'Neither did I. As I was saying, Tempus doesn't mean that much to me and I don't mean that much to Tempus. Tempus, I fear, serves Tempus and whatever he fancies is his destiny. I might not even miss him. Still, there are some things I dare not allow, dare not tolerate. Oh how I wish you could understand a bit of how difficult it is, being bom royal, and holding this job!'

Hanse, who had never held any job, tried. And without trying, he looked earnest and sympathetic. With a prince!

'Now I think that you are Tempus's friend, Hanse. Would Jubal torture him?'

Hanse felt himself about to develop a taste for strong drink. Looking at the other very young man's sash - an Ilsigi sash - he nodded. Abruptly he wanted to curse. Instead he felt an unwonted and unwanted prayer come cat-sidling into his mind: 0 Ils, god of my people and father ofShalpa my patron! It is true that Tempus-Thales serves Vashanka Tenslayer. But help us, help us both, Lord Ils, and I swear to do all I can to destroy Vashanka Sister-wifer or drive him hence, if only You will show me the way! . And Hanse blinked, and hurled that ridiculous and unwelcome thought bodily from his mind. Prayers indeed!

'Hanse... consider the limits to my power. I am not a man named Kadakithis; I am governor. I cannot do anything about it. I cannot.'

Hanse looked up to meet those cerulean eyes. 'Prince, if someone broke in here to kill you right now, I'd probably defend you. But I would not try to sneak into Jubal's keep for half your fortune and all your women.'

'Alone against Jubal? Lord, neither would I!' Kadakithis came to him then, and laid hands on a thief's shoulders. His eyes were intense and large. 'My only request of you, Hanse, is... I just wish you'd agree to try to learn where Tempus is. That's all. Your way, Hanse, and for a lot less reward than half my fortune and the women I brought here.'

Hanse backed from under those hands, from those staring eyes so full of sincerity. He paced to the bed, and the hooded robe of a blind beggar.

'I wish to leave by the fourth window down. Prince. That way I can let myself on to the roof of your smokehouse. If you were to call in your sentinels for review, I'd be out of here by the time they reached your presence.'

Kadakithis nodded.'And?'

'And I -I don't want any reward but don't dare ever tell anyone I said that, or remind me! You'll hear from me -' he whirled and skewered the other very young man with a gaze like an accusation - 'friend.'1

Kadakithis was wise enough to nod without smile or comment. Besides, he looked more as if he wanted to cry, or reach out.

'I understand your reason, Hanse. But, are you sure you can manage to break out of here ... the palaceT

Hanse turned away to roll his eyes. 'With your help. Prince, I may be able to do it. I'd hate to have to try to break in. though!'

3

It might have taken a trained investigator from Ranke a week, or a lifetime. It might have taken a Hell Hound a month or two lifetimes (a Tempus lifetime?), or a couple of days with the aid of shining ugly instruments of suasion. It took a thief of Sanctuary less than a full day to collect the information. Had he had letters, he'd have made a list.

Since he was unlettered, he must reckon and account in his head, once he had talked with this one and that one and some others. Only one realized that he was actively seeking information, and that was because Hanse let her know. Now he made his list, in his head, while he sprawled on his own bed and stared at nothing in particular.

Tempus did not get on with the other Hell Hounds. Tempus waged private war on Jubal. It was his own decision. (Not a good one; Jubal's business profited Thieves' World and Empire as well.) Jubal was a merchant who dealt in human merchandise. He provided some few to that scrawny Kurd fellow of whom even hardened Sanctuarites spoke susurrantly and with glances cast uncomfortably this way and that. In the barracks, Tempus had had serious trouble with Razkuli and that snarly growly Zaibar. (Quag had mentioned that to a certain woman under the most intimate of circumstances. A bad but common time for the imparting of confidences.)

Stulwig Northbom had spent a shining coin bearing the Emperor's likeness. Such coinage was not all that common here, although it was welcome. People of the governor's staff occasionally spent such coins. Likely then someone had bought something off Stulwig; someone from the palace. Stulwig dealt in potions and drugs and worse.

Harmocohl Dripnose had most recently seen two men conveying a sizeable burden to the lovely gardened home of Kurd. Harmocohl's impression was that the two were hood-cloaked Hell Hounds.

Hell Hounds were elite Imperial guardsmen and did not deal with such as Stulwig or Kurd. Indeed, at least one of them hated Kurd. Hardly likely that Hell Hounds would deliver a human package to him. Unless there was someone they hated more than the dark experimenter.

Tempus was missing.

The word was out that Jubal heroically sold no more human merchandise to Kurd the vivisectionist... a man with a Rankan accent. Why would such as Jubal cut off such a source of revenue? For moral reasons, because Kurd did evil things to people? Hardly. Because Jubal had made a deal with other enemies of Tempus? Zaibar and Razkuli, perhaps? Because Tempus was now in the mysterious experimenter's foul and reeking hands, perhaps?

In an ugly dark stenchy room Hanse learned more of Kurd and his business. Kurd claimed to be dedicated to the god Science. Medicine. That required experimentation. But Kurd was not content to experiment with the wounded and victims of accidents. The pallid fellow created his own. And, Hanse thought with rather more than distaste, Kurd could occupy himself for a life time with one whose wounds - Hanse suspected and thought he knew - healed with inhuman speed and completeness. Make that superhuman, or preternatural. Tempus call-me

-Thales was a man of war who had participated in many battles. Yet there were no scars on the man. Not one.

Tempus/Thales.

'You, I own, can call me anytime,' he had told Hanse, and 'my friend', he had called Hanse, and 'Just tell me not to call you friend', he had dared Hanse. And Hanse had not been able to tell him that, thus revealing and silently replying that he was close on to desperate for friends, a friend; for someone to care about him. For someone to care about.

Hanse sprawled supine on his bed in an upstairs room in the heart of the Maze, and he pondered what he had learned. He rose to pace and chew his full lower lip and ponder, with his soul and heart and longing all naked in his eyes so that it was good no one was there to see, for Hanse wanted others to see only what he deliberately projected.

All I need do is report all this to KUt-to Kadakithis, he thought. The Prince Governor who had begun his term here by announcing that there would be law and order and safety for citizens and had hanged, among others, one Cudget Swearoath, mentor (and father image?) to Hanse. The P-G did not like Tempus (and father image?) to Hanse.