Empire of the East (37 page)

He who had spoken first to Duncan raised his head again at that, and said: “You do not tell what all of us must see, that fearful things must fall upon us, soon, whatever the good Prince chooses.”

Duncan put in, impatiently: “It is war, and we all know what that short word means. Can you add to it aught of fear that we have yet to learn?”

And the second seer: “This much; I see Ardneh—not clearly, but I know that it is he—caught in the grip of some power of evil stronger than he is, caught and dying whilst our army flees from trying to help. This the result if we listen to him now, accept his leadership. If we do not, I cannot see his death, or even the appearance of this enemy of incredible strength.”

The two magicians who had so far spoken fell silent now, looking at Duncan, then turning to follow the direction of his eyes with their own.

The third wizard, who seemed now to stand the tallest, broke his silence. “Lord Duncan, it is all true, what both of them have told you. If we accept the leadership of Ardneh, I see Ardneh ringed about with enemies and dying, and I see you despairing in retreat. And then…that vision ends in some great violence. If we do not accept and follow Ardneh, the vision is even clearer, and, at least to me, even more terrible. For in it the West and all it stands for is no more…”

“Hold!” Duncan commanded. “All of you! If by your arts you can see these things, must not Ardneh be able to see them too?”

The three conferred together, whispering. Then the first replied: “It would seem to be not beyond his powers.”

“Well, then, if he is truly on our side…” Duncan lost the thread of what he had meant to say. Perhaps he was distracted by the way the three faceless wizards were now all turned toward him with a certain new tension in their postures, as if they had suddenly seen something new and peculiar about him.

It occurred to him also that he should take more time to think about the patrols he had routinely scattered in all directions to see what…no, especially he must consider those working far to the north and…actually, one patrol in particular required some thought. One of the men in it was a black-haired youth, short but strong-looking, named Rolf or something like that. Yes, perhaps he had heard of this Rolf before—some matter connected with technology. Ardneh might well now want this Rolf to do something technological again, since whatever it was before had worked out so well.

As Duncan thought further he seemed to see deeper into the matter. It came to him, as a remembered secret that should be shared with few or none, that this new technological mission for which Rolf (and the patrol that included Rolf) should be diverted would probably involve a certain object black as shiny ebony, a somehow gem-like thing about the same size as a man's clenched fist. Ardneh had probably handled a similar thing recently, seen and handled such a thing for the first time, and in the course of that handling had obtained a clue as to the existence and whereabouts of this larger and vastly more valuable one, the true worth of which was not yet appreciated by any human being. It was now in the possession of some adherent of the East, somewhere in a northern desert where the patrol of which Rolf was a member, if they were fast enough and lucky enough, might be in time to intercept…

So smoothly and with such seeming rightness did this train of thought flow through Prince Duncan's mind, that only after it had progressed thus far did he awake to the fact that it was bringing him new knowledge, that it must have its origin in some mind other than his own.

Ardneh?
he demanded, silently, but with a concentrated urgency of thought that was the equivalent of a shout. There was no answer, save that the flow of ideas about the gem-like thing, whose existence he had never before suspected, broke off.

Ardneh, you cannot manage me that way. I will not be controlled.
But even as his challenging thought went forth he knew that no effort had been made to control him. He had only been taken partly into Ardneh's confidence.

The air within the glade had cleared. The wizards once again had faces, and were pressing round him anxiously. “…Lord Duncan, Prince,” tall Gray was repeatedly demanding. When he saw that Duncan was aware of him, he added: “He came to you directly. Prince, did you not feel his weight?”

“Yes, yes. Now I have felt him. Listened to him. Whether I believe him is still another question.”

They pressed him for more information but there was little more that he could tell; Ardneh was still a mystery. He led the others back to the camp, where he plunged alone into his tent for a time to argue with himself amid maps, reports, intelligence estimates. There were strong arguments on both sides but already in his heart he was more than half convinced that soon he would be moving the army north.

Full summer had come, and Abner, High Constable of the East, with the dust of hard journeying upon his clothes, sweltered standing in the small room high under the sun-beaten roof of the caravanserai. Around him a few quick and silent servants hurried, nimbly adjusting their movements in the cramped quarters to the Constable's bulky, careless presence. Dust raised by hasty efforts at cleaning still hung visible before the small, high windows in the prison-like walls. The servants were unpacking things and moving the Constable in with practiced efficiency, while he looked around him with distaste. The place had looked more inviting from the outside. It would have been better, the Constable was thinking now, to have camped in the open again; his escort was strong enough to have nothing to fear from bandits, and there could be no sizable Western force in the area. But his companion had wanted to spend a night or two indoors, and to humor her he had agreed.

Of course he could change his orders and move out again, but he had had a weary day in the saddle and was not minded to wait longer for his bath and such pleasures as the evening might afford. So let it be. In the next room of his little suite, which was of course the least dilapidated of the establishment, he could hear the buckets of bath-water already being carried in. Standing by a window and tall enough to peer down from it, he could see in the courtyard below how the weary loadbeasts of his retinue were being unloaded, watered, and bedded for the night.

The south wall of the courtyard below was pierced by a single central gate, the only way in or out. On the other three sides were buildings, all the same three-story height. The building the Constable stood in, and the one opposite, were divided into small apartments and barrack-like chambers, the ground floors usable interchangeably by animals or by humans of the lower classes. The building that formed the third side of the enclosure, opposite the gate, contained a tavern, a brothel, a store, and the small quarters of the Master of the Station and his few permanent guards. All the buildings had windows only on their inner sides, facing the central square, and in their outer walls mere arrow-slits.

Probably a couple of hundred people were now inside the walls, two-thirds of them in the Constable's retinue. Nor had they seen another living human during the last two days. This remote region of the continent seemed to have been forsaken even by the war. Here and there moved roving bands of outcasts, deserters from East and West. But as for Duncan, his maneuverings, like Ominor's, were many kilometers to the south.

The Emperor of the East had assumed command of his own armies in the field, freeing his Constable for another mission, that of learning about Ardneh. The magicians had failed miserably. Abner had the Emperor's trust, as much as anyone could be said to have it. He was journeying widely in this desolate part of the country to interview people, mostly Eastern officers, who in the past in one way or another had had something to do with Ardneh. More such Eastern people were to be found here than anywhere else, because those who had survived a struggle with Ardneh-inspired forces tended to be under a cloud of failure, and those whose failures were deemed mild tended to be assigned to remote places where nothing important depended on them. Those whose failures were thought grave by Ominor were seldom in any condition to be interviewed.

Of course Abner might have summoned to the capital the people he wanted to talk to, eyewitnesses who had been engaged in the various battles in which Ardneh was known to have taken a hand. But then they would keep re-working their stories to put themselves in a more favorable light. He had to convince them that information was what he wanted, not more scapegoats. Just talking directly to the High Constable was intimidating enough for most of them.

A few had other reactions. One of these had engaged the Constable's interest for reasons that had nothing to do with Ardneh; she had been traveling with him now for half a month. Two days after he met her he had sent home his other concubines.

The stone walls of the caravanserai were thick, but the fit of the massive wooden doors was far from tight, and now from the apartment next to Abner's there came plainly the slide and thump of baggage being moved, and the voice of the Lady Charmian in the shrill tones she used with servants. Abner listened. In the very ugliness of that voice, which at other times could hold all the female sweetness in the world, there was a fascination. Even by its incongruity the voice evoked the unbelievable beauty of her face and body. Truly a most remarkable woman, even in the eyes of a man who had his pick of what the East and the subjugated lands could offer. And it was a nice touch that he could blend his business with his pleasure. Charmian had been at the debacle of the Black Mountains. Not that she had been able to tell him much of Ardneh.

Abner squinted against the lowering summer sun in the northwestern sky. Along the shaded porch of the brothel-tavern, some of its girls were quarreling, and had reached the stage of pulling hair. At the other side of the courtyard, three travellers, evidently some kind of traders, were being let in through the massive, narrow gate.

…yes, the woman was already assuming a ridiculous importance in his life. Not for the first time, he suspected magic. When he heard the door close behind his servants and knew he was alone he reached for amulets of great power that hung around his neck inside his outer garments. With these devices given him by Wood himself, Abner probed for any indication of a love-charm being worked. But to his passes and mutterings now no answer came. The woman's magic was no more than feminine beauty and cleverness. No more? Those were quite enough.

When Abner had met Charmian she was living with the commander of a small cavalry post, in a place even more desolate and isolated than this caravanserai—a great come-down for her. Obviously she saw Abner as a miraculous chance to not only regain lost ground but leap far ahead of the places she had fallen from. The lady wanted power and position, and would spare no pains to get them. The cavalry commander had been unable to hide his chagrin at his loss, when Abner had invited the lady to accompany him, even as she herself had been openly overjoyed. Well, someday Ominor might claim her for himself; but neither he nor Abner would ever be so openly dismayed at the loss of this or any other woman…

 

Rolf, Chup, and Loford, having passed the brief scrutiny of the Master of the Station and been admitted through the gate—no very strict precautions against bandits were being taken, it seemed, because of the unusually large party of armed men who lay within the walls tonight—were sent on to find such lodgings as they might. They had put on clothing suitable for merchants and had counterfeited the general appearance of such as well as they were able. Their apparent caste thus achieved might at another time have gained them lodgings in the second or possibly the uppermost floor of one of the dormitory buildings, but today a small room on the lower level of servants and stables was the best that they could do. The Constable's retinue and a party of well-to-do slave dealers had taken over everything else from the top down.

Even with some guidance from Ardneh it had taken Mewick and his patrol several weeks to find Abner's trail. They had been following him closely for four days now, being too few to attempt an open assault on such a large party. Rolf still felt the certainty, send wordlessly by Ardneh, that the strange object they were to seize was in the baggage of Abner or someone traveling with him. Ardneh's influence had become so convincing that Mewick had turned his patrol in the desired direction even before orders to do so came by bird-messenger from Duncan. The orders when they came were explicit, brought by birds who told how Duncan was starting to turn his whole army north: the seizure of the jewel was to be attempted at all costs to the patrol.

Abner's decision to stop at the caravanserai offered at least some prospect of a chance. Thus, the plan to send three men behind the same walls as the Constable. The very added security of the walls might induce the enemy to let down his guard, and make some action possible.

Once in their ground-floor room, which they had claimed by evicting a miscellany of beasts of burden into the open courtyard, the three putative merchants had no difficulty, looking out through their uncloseable window, in picking out the high narrow windows of the Constable's chambers in the building opposite. It was certain that he would have taken the poor best that the place could offer; and Chup and Loford had had enough experience with caravanserais of similar design to know where the most desirable rooms must be.

After seeing to their animals, and stowing their meager baggage in the most easily watched corner of their room, the three of them held converse in voices inaudible more than an arm's length away.

Chup mused: “It will not be easy, I think, to get near enough to strike.”

Loford could look the mild tradesman part quite easily, and had been the spokesman at the gate. He answered now: “It is too early yet to tell. Give them a night of carousing, and see if by tomorrow they have not begun to be a little slow to notice things, a little lazy.”

Rolf said: “Also, remember this. Just getting near and striking will not avail us anything.”

Chup shook his head a centimeter or two in disagreement. “To kill Abner would be something, a deep wound for the East. Worth taking a chance for, whether or not we can do the job for which we came.”

Rolf, putting flat authority into his quiet voice, said: “No, to kill Abner is nothing if we cannot get the stone we want and get away with it. So Ardneh says.” Beyond that he could give his friends no explanation, for Ardneh had given none to him. Should Rolf be captured and questioned, still he would be able to say no more. But he spoke with conviction, having faith in Ardneh.

The other two exchanged a look of age and experience above his head. “Well,” said Chup, “what you say about getting away is suitable to me. I have no objection to my own survival.'

Loford put in: “Suitable, and interesting. Sometimes it pays to plan from start and finish toward the middle. Suppose we have what we came for, and are getting away—will we absolutely need the animals that we rode in here on?”

“No,” said Rolf. “Mewick and I discussed that. There are at least three good spare animals with the patrol. If we can rendezvous with them outside the walls all should be well.”

“And I,” said Chup, “came thinking we might go out over the roof.” He patted his midsection under his loose merchant's garb. “I have some rope coiled here. That gate seems to be well watched, and not easy to open in a hurry.”

“Let us suppose,” said Rolf, “we are going over the wall with a rope. What is next to be considered?”

Chup: “Since the plump wizard here is going with us, I suppose we must consider how to strengthen the strands, with a little magic perhaps.” Chup was better suited for this kind of work than any normal man could be; the prospect of desperate action actually cheered him up. Were it not that some in the West still mistrusted the sincerity of his conversion, he would have held a high command. “As he must have done for the backbone of his riding-beast.”

Loford did not seem disconcerted. “Would I could strengthen your wits as easily, dull swordsman. About getting away…Rolf, is it any clearer now, where the thing must ultimately be taken?”

“Let me think.” Trying to find what Ardneh wanted was like trying to find a half-forgotten memory of one's own. Glimmerings came, as if grudgingly. “Farther than we'll be able to ride from here in a single night. More I cannot see.”

Loford: “What I am getting at is this. Could not a bird take it? As described, the stone is easily light enough for one to lift.”

This time Rolf had to think longer. At last he shook his head. “No. Rather, it will be much better if we do not have to do it that way. Better for it to go by bird than not at all, but…it is important also that
I
go, there is some job for me to do, at the same place where the stone is needed.” He shook his head again.

Loford scratched his head. “Then we must try to guard you too, and send you on unscratched if possible…what is it makes your jaw drop, swordsman? Have you managed a clear thought?”

Chup stopped his fixed staring at the high windows opposite, gave his head a shake, and blinked. “It may be that today I rode too long staring into the sun. I thought I saw—a woman.”

“Well? And why not?” Loford asked reasonably.

Chup only shook his head again, and went back to observing the apartment where the High Constable lodged.

Rolf turned to Loford. “A while ago you said that by tomorrow they may be growing a little careless. But will they not also be on their way?”

“I think not.” Loford slouched massively on the low windowsill, and with a slight nod indicated the far side of the courtyard. “A groom has begun paring at the hooves of several of the loadbeasts we followed today.” That meant no long journey could be contemplated for those animals tomorrow. “We should have tonight and tomorrow to get ready, and tomorrow night to strike and run.”

They could not decide on a scheme for getting a closer look at the Constable's quarters. After a while Rolf said: “One of us at least should go to the tavern, hear what the soldiers in the Constable's escort have to say.” After a moment he added. “I wish that one of you two would go.”

Chup gave him a quizzical glance. “Do the painted women make you nervous, young one?”

“No—yes. Because always in the background there's one who owns them. And that people should be owned does bother me, though it seems sometimes not to bother the slaves. I am made nervous in such a way that I want to kill that man.”

Chup emitted a little snort. “Well, I am not likely to tremble with nervousness in yonder house of joy, nor draw curious glances my way by killing someone. I'll volunteer to go, and brave whatever hardships duty may put in my way.”