Dangerous Secrets (114 page)

‶
I dream of a dead brother and a
golden-haired child who made me crowns of flowers. Do you dream them
too?″

‶
No. I know she lives.″

‶
She lives?″ Slowly, he
raised his head to look steadily at his queen. Under his straggling beard, his
jaw tightened.
‶
This
man says I have a niece.″

‶
He is a prisoner,″ Zosime
said scornfully.
‶
He′ll say anything.″

‶
That′s true,″ he
admitted, his chin sinking onto his chest. His eyes closed and he swayed like a
man asleep on his feet. But even so, he took a few more mouthfuls before he
left the room.

They took him away with surprising gentleness,
guiding his fumbling footsteps. As he went, I heard him say,
‶
She
made me a crown of golden flowers....″

I looked at the queen, her face like a mask of
Pride worn in some triumphal pageant.
‶
What are those things you are
giving him?″

‶
A little ambrosia from the
Gods′ own table.″

I remembered what Aphrodite had said. Looking
around, I saw the orange dust on the clothes of everyone in the room except for
Zosime and myself.

‶
I believe the Gods are eating
it but why do you want them to?″

‶
They have remarkable
properties, these little tasty treats. You eat them almost mindlessly and you
don′t want anything else. Whatever you are doing, playing a game, say,
becomes the most important thing in the world to you. Nothing else matters.
Someone could slaughter your children and it would mean nothing.″

She brought the bowl to me.
‶
Have
some. They′re really quite delicious.″

They didn′t look created by mortal hands,
that was for certain. For one thing, each one was pretty much identical to all
the others. Strangely enough, despite what she′d told me, they did look
like something worth trying. Their smell was cloying and as ever-present as the
dust that fell from them yet it somehow stimulated both my curiosity and my taste
buds.

‶
It′s going to be harder
to bend me to your will than that, Queen Zosime.″

‶
Perhaps. Who can say?″
She clapped her hands.
‶
Leave me with this man.″

The bodyguard said pointedly,
‶
I′ll
be right outside the door, my queen.″

After a moment, she dragged forward a simple
folding stool, her every clumsy movement demonstrating how unused to simple
tasks she was. She sat down gracefully, though, arranging her draperies,
studying me covertly the whole time.
‶
I have waited a long time to
see you, Eno.″

‶
And I you, lady.″

‶
Now that I do, I realize what a
waste it would be to kill you. Such strength. Such a spirit should not be
sacrificed wantonly.″ Her eyes searched my whole body in a way that
reminded me of nothing so much as a housewife planning how many meals she could
get out of a haunch of venison. For all her beauty, she was about as seductive
as a pool of cold, scummy water.

‶
You know, there′s always
a choice to be made in this life. You can choose death or a much more glorious
future. What I offer you is a life without limits, a life of absolute power
over all the earth.″

‶
If this is leading up to a job
offer as head of an army of the dead, I′ve heard it.″

She leaned forward, letting her bosom fall
against the opening of her gown.
‶
But have you completely
considered all that such a position would entail? Imagine yourself, clad in the
finest armor, under a banner of red and black. Armies, unconquerable armies
would flock to you. The whole world would tremble at your command. City-states
would fall before you. In the end, you wouldn′t even have to raise a
sword. The mere mention of your name would bring Athens, Troy, Sparta, on their
knees before you, all of them begging for your mercy. What is a mere kingdom
compared to that?″

‶
An entrancing picture.″

‶
Isn′t it?″ she
said, her eyes already smoking with the fires of burning cities. Her breasts
rose and fell to her heightened breathing. No passion would draw forth such
pleasure as her imagining the misery of millions.

Zosime reached forward one delicate hand, her
nails shining like pearls, and ran them up from my knee to my thigh. My skin
crawled.
‶
And
I to ride beside you....″

‶
You would not like a
battlefield. Smelly. Dirty. No place for a lady.″

‶
You′ll need me. Only I,
by my magic, can raise your enemies to serve in your army forever. The more you
kill, the more numerous your own ranks grow, General Eno. My,″ she said,
meeting my gaze,
‶
what a noble sound that has. General Eno.″

I nodded.
‶
Not bad.″

‶
She will reward you well once
you give up this foolish fight against her.″

‶
Who is that, exactly?″

She laughed in her throat.
‶
The
Dark Lady. Once she was queen over all mortals and so she will be again. She
serves her brief hour in Hades, dividing the dead souls for punishment or
reward. But not for much longer. Soon she will take her rightful place on the
Throne of Heaven. Very, very soon.″

I tried piecing together these clues. I felt as
though there were something I should know but I could not bring it forward.
Maybe there′d been one too many clouts on the head earlier in the
evening.
‶
Who?″

She looked at me as a teacher instructing a
tiny child in the first lisping repetition of the names of the commonest
objects.
‶
Hekate,
queen of witches, seeresses and enchantresses. You will serve Zosime now and
her holy will always.″

‶
Or?″

‶
Or...?″

‶
An ultimatum usually has a
threat included.″

She stood up, her nails digging into my leg as
she scraped them down toward my knee again. Then she turned abruptly and went
to a chest hung on the wall, unlocking it with a pin she drew from her
neckline. A strange reddish glow emerged when she swung open the lid.

Zosime turned, a vial of blood-red glass in her
hand.
‶
This
is a potion that will bind you to my will and make you forget your foolish
opposition. It contains Hypernian wine, the juice of three persimmons, twelve
crushed petals from the unholy flowers that bloom along the River Styx,
captured vapors from the depths of the Nekromanteion, and five drops from the
Waters of the River of Lethe.″

‶
Sounds tasty.″

‶
Join with me of your own free
will or drink this and forget there ever lived such a man as Eno of
Thrace.″

I suppose she was expecting me to shiver, shake
and plead. But I was busy with other thoughts. The Waters of Lethe were alleged
to wipe the memories of souls passing into the Underworld, forcing them to
forget their mortal lives and desires. The Styx and the Nekromanteion were
gateways to the Underworld. That this queen possessed the ingredients for such
a potion was proof of her service to the Gatekeeper of Hell.

‶
You already know I′m not
going to join. You′re not stupid.″

‶
But think! How much better to
serve her as her beloved and all-powerful General...than to be a slave, without
will, without memories, without hope.″

‶
Was that your choice,
Zosime?″

‶
Mine? I had no choice. No.
There was never any choice for Zosime.″ She turned and poured off the
liquid into the goblet.

‶
You know,″ I said,
‶
you
really need to make up your mind if you want me alive or dead.″

‶
No, not really. Either way you
will serve her. If you take my advice, choose to go willingly. It may make
things easier for you.″ She spoke as if she knew.

‶
Shall I leave you for a few
moments to think it over?″

‶
I′d like that.″
There was a window behind her. Two seconds alone in the room and I′d be
gone like vapor, if I had to crawl.

She laughed again, outright, shaking back her
thick hair.
‶
To
me!″ she shouted.

The door burst open and the bodyguard all but
fell into the room.

‶
Wait,″ she said when he
would have hit me.
‶
Hold him.″

She came near again, with that drifting grace
both elegant and horrible.
‶
You said I was not stupid, for which I thank you.
I′m certainly not stupid enough to leave you to make your escape.″

Zosime held out the goblet.
‶
Choose.
Life, love and battle...or nothingness.″

‶
I choose...nothingness.″

She wouldn′t have believed me if
I′d said anything else. The bodyguard clasped his hands around my face
and neck, forcing my mouth open. I tried to rise to my feet, to shake him off
but I hadn′t the strength. Only then did I realize that Zosime
wasn′t boasting when she said she had power over me. I struggled
uselessly, feeling like an ordinary man for the first time in my life.

She approached slowly, giving me a chance to
change my mind. When I only continued my useless struggle, she raised the cup
high in the air, then shot the contents straight down my throat.

The bodyguard stepped away. I saw that he was
sweating, so I′d given him at least a little trouble. But that
satisfaction was nothing.

What would the potion do to me and how soon
would the effects show? I didn′t feel any different yet. Would I even
know when I forgot, if I didn′t know I was forgetting?

These matters were too complicated for me. One
thing only I knew. As soon as I swallowed, my strength came surging back. I
could have done anything. Break Zosime in half. Throw the bodyguard out the
window. Tear the palace down stone by stone til I found the harpy. But what to
do first?

When in doubt, play dumb. I let my eyes glaze
over and my mouth hung slack. I forced my fists to open.
‶
I
don′t feel well.″

‶
Don′t be afraid. The
Goddess offers you a new, glorious life.″

‶
Goddess?″

She laughed again and came closer to inspect
me, her dark eyes flickering. If we′d been alone, I′d have sent her
with a wrenched neck to Hekate.
‶
Do I know you, lady?″ I
asked.

Her body-guard knelt beside me.
‶
Are
you sure, my lady?″

‶
The Waters do not fail. He will
be nothing but clay for my molding now.″

He shrugged broad shoulders, though his eyes
stayed narrowed in suspicion.

‶
Stand up,″ she ordered.

I stretched, unkinking twisted limbs, yawning.
‶
What
day is it?″

‶
A day of celebration. What is
your name?″

I opened my mouth as if to speak but so great
was the force of her will, commanding me with unspoken power not to remember,
that for a moment I halted, dumb as a bell without a clapper. I ventured the
first name that popped into my mind.
‶
Phandros?″

‶
Phandros. Very well. You will
go with this man and he will instruct you in your duties. Serve me well.″

I bowed clumsily in imitation of the other man
and followed him. I drew a clandestine breath of relief once out of her sight.
Queen Zosime seemed to exhale a sweet but evil scent, like some tropical flower
luring small creatures to a poisoned drowning within lush petals.

Chapter 16

I had followed him into the hall when suddenly
he pivoted and pinned me to the wall.
‶
I don′t trust you.″

My eyes must have been as big as eggs with
innocent wonder, for the iron-bar of his arm across my wind-pipe lessened just
the slightest bit. It was enough. A moment later, he was on the floor, my foot
on his throat.
‶
Wise,″
I said,
‶
but
too little, too late.″

I stilled his efforts with a kick to the head
and dragged him, no less a weight than I myself, into an empty room. No time
for fancy knots. I bundled him into a large chest of clothes and put the bed on
top of it. I didn′t worry whether he′d suffocate.

Then quick as I could, for I didn′t know
how long it would be before the potion took effect, I went hunting. The palace
was large enough to hide an enchanted princess in any dark corner or hidden
chamber. As I went upward, I reproached myself for not questioning the
bodyguard before knocking him cold. Well, I could always go back and twist it
out of him.

From somewhere nearby, I felt a chilly breeze
whispering over the floorboards. I found a door and wrenched it open. I found
myself on a parapet looking out over the city of Troezan, a city crawling with
life the way the soil under a rock teems with frightened, creeping things. I
could hear voices and cries, mingling into a pulsing moan, almost a song. If
the grubs and worms under a stone could sing a terrified song of praise to the
creature that had lifted the rock perhaps it would sound much the same.

Everything that was happening -- from
Jori′s death to the planned sacrifice of some fantastical animal tomorrow
-- had a meaning and a purpose that I could only dimly comprehend. Zosime had
hinted that her Goddess was ready to emerge, like some foul creature from a
black cocoon. But then, I didn′t really need to know all the details. I
could wreck all their nasty plans by my ignorance just as easily, if not more
easily, than with wisdom.

I smiled, planning mischief, as I ran briskly
around the parapet on the topmost tower. On the farthest side from the doorway,
a cage hung swinging on a beam cantilevered into the palace wall. I recognized
the workmanship for the plans had been mine.

‶
Princess....″ I gasped.

A dark mass huddled in the center of the floor.
Her light had gone out completely. She couldn′t be dead; all my logic
said she was destined to die in the morning at the hand of her own uncle. And I
had sent her back to Troezan!

I leapt onto the beam in the darkness, guided
only by the dim stars. Though it had looked straight, once I was on it, I
realized that it was bending under the levered weight of the cage and the
harpy. It creaked and swayed under my feet as if I stood on a boom at sea. I
inched along, wishing with all my might that I weighed no more than a pigeon.
If I could only reach her and open the cage, she could fly away.

She stirred as my weight upon the beam shook
the cage. I saw the reflection of her brilliant eyes as she raised her head
from her breast. Impossible to say if she recognized me.
‶
You′ve
got to get out of here,″ I told her, keeping my voice low and reassuring.
‶
Fly
to the mountains and hide up there. If I can, I′ll get there and
we′ll find a way to change you back. There′s got to be a greater
magician some place. I hear there′s some smart guys in Samarkand.″

I felt the beam sway beneath me as one of the
pegs holding it to the wall jumped away with deep-noted
‵
sproing.′ I
ducked instinctively and heard another one burst free.

She could fly, of course, but I could only
fall.

In the hope of evening out the load, I gingerly
knelt, then lay at full-length, face-down, balancing myself on the beam, which
suddenly seemed far narrower. I fumbled for the cage door. She didn′t cry
out or try to slash my hand from my wrist, which I counted as a sign she knew
me. I mumbled the reassuring words a man might offer a dog with a sore paw.

The door opened, but she stayed huddled on the
floor.
‶
Go
on, now,″ I urged.
‶
You′re free.″

She sighed but did not move. Had the Queen in
her cruelty clipped her wings?

Perhaps it was just long experience that made
me feel so jumpy. I doubted the Queen′s bodyguard would stay quietly
unconscious for long and, though the beam no longer bucked like a runaway
horse, I didn′t trust my perch to last. A quick scuttle backwards would
make me awfully happy but I couldn′t leave her and I didn′t dare
put my hand in to grab her. I was fond of my fingers.

Then I heard that chittering sound around us,
as the Queen′s minions found me. My attention had been too focused on the
harpy. They waited for me, for they could see that to step on the beam meant a
long, screaming death for everyone concerned. Even minions don′t want to
go like that.

Like a tropical sun flooding the sky with
golden light, the Harpy′s cage filled with blinding brilliance. She spun
around, wings outstretched and the cage burst apart, sliced pieces falling away.
I was no less dazed than the minions. Had she known she could break free at any
moment?

She hovered, fiery wings beating at the air.
Her triumphant voice shattered the starry silence, scattering the mutated
creatures around us as a hot wind sends leaves flying. Impelled by her courage,
I stood up in one move, drawing my sword. It seemed to catch her fire,
reflecting into the eyes of our enemies.

Then one came through the rest, larger, bolder,
a trickle of red still in the corner of his mouth. The Queen′s bodyguard
hefted a bow, the razor-sharp arrow pointed not at me, but at the harpy, the
string already drawn to his cheek.

I dived, as the arrow flew, while she strove to
rise. Without knowing quite how, I found myself lying across the parapet, the
stone edge all but cutting me in half, both hands over, scraping against the
wall as something swung between them.

Turning my eyes toward the bodyguard, I
demanded that he help me.
‶
She′s your rightful queen, you ass,″ I
said, in more or less those words.
‶
And you shot her.″

‶
She is a beast and shall die as
a beast.″

‶
She? Then you do know. And
you′re an idiot.″ At least he didn′t try to stop me as I
pulled her up. He may have even kept back the minions but I had no further
attention to waste on him.

The arrow had pierced her out-stretched wing.
She snapped feebly at me for I am sure I caused her great pain, though I
gripped her above the wound. Her feathers scraped me, all her dazzling light
extinguished, except for one spot that refused to stay still but danced over
her body. No matter how I turned my head, I couldn′t catch it except from
the corner of my eye.

‶
That′s not so bad.
You′ll be all right once we get that out.″

Her eyes were fixed on my face. I am, as you
have guessed by now, extraordinarily dense sometimes. It wasn′t until I
looked closely at the puffy skin where the arrow entered that I realized the
spot of light dancing around was coming from me. Specifically, from the place
on my forehead where the Goddess had kissed me.

She had called me her missionary. But what is a
missionary but one who carries a message from a god? I knew the message
wasn′t for me.
‶
Bend, princess,″ I muttered and pressed my
lips to the pin-feathers on the top of the Harpy′s head.

No sparkling lights, no harpist′s strain,
no spirits or fat sprites appeared. One instant, I held a wild beast in my
arms, bleeding copper-scented blood, the next a girl, red-blooded and naked.
The light of Aphrodite′s kiss went out so I couldn′t see even one
glimpse of her face among the shadows of the wall, only the merest outline of
her profile.

The bodyguard came up to us. With the princess
in my arms, I could neither avoid nor ride the fist he threw at my chin, all
his wounded pride and knowledge of his folly behind it.

She and I fell together, a tangle of limbs, her
bosom in my face. I pushed her aside and bounded to my feet. He fired again but
the arrow went wild as he tried to dance out of range while aiming.

Reaching out, I grabbed him by the back of the
neck and shook him as an eagle whips a snake. He cried out and tried to reach
me with blind fists. I gave him another vigorous shake for good measure. Then I
thrust him down on his knees before the wounded princess.

‶
This is the rightful ruler of
this black and misbegotten land. Obey her or die.″

‶
I will die anyway,″ he
said, gasping.
‶
When
the queen finds out.″

‶
Then you might as well die
doing the right thing as the wrong one. Help me and be judged for the good you
have done.″

‶
Is there such a
judgment?″ he muttered, hanging his head.

The princess sat up, one hand to the hole in
her shoulder.
‶
I,
Kissos of Troezan, swear by all the Gods that I will forgive you even
this,″ she said in a voice scraped raw,
‶
if you serve me faithfully from
now onward.″

He raised his head and wiped his hands across his
mouth.
‶
I
will. Forever. I also swear by Ares and Hermes that if I am ever foresworn I
shall die by my own hand.″

It was all very touching but time was gnawing
at my heels.

I ripped a strip from his tunic and bound up
her arm. Naked, she was as regal as a queen in full royal regalia. Even the
minions, copying the bodyguard, knelt to her.

‶
What is your name? What are you
doing here?″ she asked me.

‶
Just a hero for hire, my
princess. A wanderer.″ I didn′t know if she remembered me from
Leros or not.

‶
You have wandered into my life
with good timing, hero. What shall we do now?″

After a few minutes′ discussion, the
bodyguard got his chance to take another swing at me. This time, I fell down
into a long black slide into nothingness, the princess′ cry of
‵
No!′
following me into oblivion.

***

When I awoke, still with that
‵
No!′
in my head, I became aware of a strange but familiar sound. It mingled with the
roaring in my ears. Searching my recent memory, I remembered. Those animal
cries were the sound of the Queen′s menagerie, slightly muffled as if by
distance or an obstacle.

Testing the limits as usual, I tried to move a
hand. No, I was obviously tied to something, something flat. Was I an opening
act for the sacrificial festival? Cautiously opening an eye, I saw that it was
still night. The same night?

I raised my head as a booming knock sounded
nearby. That sound had roused me from the sleep I′d taken, courtesy of
the queen′s former bodyguard. The gate creaked open.

“Get out of the way, fool!”

The keeper was muscled aside as five guards in
armor, complete with shields and spears strode in. They were followed by a
covered two-wheeled cart, dragged by half a dozen human slaves, followed by
several female servants, soberly but richly dressed, carrying torches. One carried
a basket, covered with a cloth that moved. She kept one hand on whatever it
was. Last, and undoubtedly least, I was wheeled in on a flat-bed cart which, by
the smell, was usually used to carry shit out of the zoo.

The sergeant lined up his men at the salute,
then strode around to the rear of the cart and got the door open.

An arched hand, limply elegant, waited for the
sergeant to take it. The queen of Troezan came forth, veiled head to foot with
the finest black linen, and the sergeant guided her down the three steps at the
rear of the cart. She seemed to float, consciously graceful in every gesture
and movement.

Everyone stepped back when she reached the
ground. I knew it was less in homage than in abject fright. She paused, as if
waiting for something. She turned her head toward one of the female servants
who gasped. I could almost feel the tingly shock that passed from the veiled
figure to the girl. She handed her torch to one of the others and stepped up to
take away the veil, immediately kneeling at the woman’s feet.

The woman pushed her over with the ball of her
foot. “Fool,” she said, in a low, throaty tone that carried like a deep-tolling
bell. It awoke echoes of memory in me, from even earlier than our interview in
her chambers. “Where’s that gate guard?”

Phandros approached, rubbing his hands together
obsequiously. He didn′t look at me. “Here I am, my lady.”

Her deep-set eyes narrowed. “My lady? Have I
been demoted?”

“I beg pardon, my queen.”

“That’s better.” She showed her white teeth in
what might have been a smile. “You are not the regular guard.”

“No, my queen.” He held up his hand, pointing
behind him at the town. His hand shook. I hadn’t thought he was that good of an
actor. “He has gone to the festival. I am substituting.”

“Oh, you are substituting, are you? Very well.
Show my servants out, lock the gate, then return.”

“Yes, my queen,” he said, all but bobbing a
curtsey.

The maid with the basket and the sergeant
remained behind. I wondered if she missed her usual bodyguard who, I hoped, was
watching over the princess. If he′d grabbed a fast horse and ridden away,
I couldn′t blame him. But if he were smart enough to see that a grateful
princess was worth more than a doomed queen, he′d stay with the girl. -I
had every intention of making sure Zosime didn′t return to her palace.

Queen Zosime glanced about her. “It smells,”
she said, and held her perfumed sleeve to her nose.

The bizarre yet familiar embroidery running
around the cuff caught the torch-light, sparkling with gold thread. No doubt it
was the dancing fire that gave the illusion that each sigil moved with
intention and sinuous pleasure. I felt a hot jumping sensation in my abdomen
muscles and had to take several deep breaths to keep calm. I saw a vision of
the dead king of Leros as I′d seen him last, shuffling along, one more
among the reanimated dead.