Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) (81 page)

“Okay,
let’s interview the general grade types and find out where they stand,” Jeff
said one afternoon during a prolonged debate that was going nowhere. “If we can
determine they are men of honor like Lingol, and if they are willing to give
their word not to participate in any aspect of this invasion, I think we ought
to release them. If they are not men of honor, well, there is ample room in the
dungeon for a prolonged stay. As I recall, they are both fluent in our tongue.”

They
met with the two officers in the dungeon. Rengeld in the lead, they descended
several spiral staircases of stone. The air was ripe with the smell of unwashed
bodies, smoke from torches, and other odors that, perhaps, spoke of terror.

Entering
a stuffy room that reeked of mold and dripped moisture, Rengeld seated himself
behind a wooden table and invited Jeff to do the same. The clang of cell doors
closing boomed drearily in dissonance with the guards’ occasional laughter outside
the room. Shortly, the two Salchek officers were ushered inside.

Both
men were clean-shaven, in their fifties, and neatly attired in surprisingly
intact uniforms. The shorter officer, a lean whippet of a man, casually
appraised the room. He bowed and took a seat when Rengeld indicated he could
sit. The other Salchek looks around as if he expected someone to pull the chair
out for him.

When
no one did he remained standing and assumed a defiant posture. He was florid
faced, somewhat paunchy, and to Jeff’s mind merely succeeded in appearing
pompous. Maybe a prima donna, he tentatively decided. Rengeld had named them
earlier. The one in the chair was Bithro Kalmit, the other, Citran Toltek.

“We
are presented with a dilemma, gentlemen,” Rengeld stated without preamble.
“While we do not wish to needlessly imprison you, release is impossible if that
means you will rejoin the army of invasion.”

“Arvalia
is a territory of Salchesia,” Toltek shot back. “We are not invaders.”

“Call
it what you like,” Rengeld drawled, “but I would think that events to date
indicate we don’t agree with you.”

Jeff
rubbed his eyebrows to hide a grin, and thought, Yes, Rengeld!

Toltek’s
face took on dark red hue, but Kalmit smiled dryly. “Well put, Commander. I
must agree that our reception did indicate a certain difference of opinion on
this matter. What do you propose?”

“We
have had contact with one of your officers that suggests professionals of the
Salchek Army hold honor in high esteem. On your sworn word as gentlemen that
you will return to Salchesia and not participate in this war in any fashion, we
will consider setting you free.”

“May
we confer privately, Commander?”

“Of
course,” Rengeld replied to Kalmit. When the Salchek had been escorted to a
cell to converse, Rengeld sat back and looked at Jeff. “Opinions, please.”

“Not
sure what to think at this point. Kalmit is a cool customer, maybe too cool,
and Toltek impresses me as a self-important ass.” Jeff twitched his shoulders
in a shrug. “Still, those are only first impressions. What has occurred to me
is that we know nothing of their customs. Lingol was an honorable man, but how
does that virtue relate to Salchek customs of behavior? What they term as
honorable might not agree at all with our standards.”

“I
agree, Captain. It is possible that sworn word means nothing in Salchek
society.”

“Even
if it does, how would that apply to northern barbarians? We are not, you know,
of noble birth.”

Rengeld
snorted. “Thank the gods.”

“Amen,”
Jeff said with heartfelt sincerity. “Do you know which one has the higher rank
or more time in grade?”

“Reportedly,
Toltek.”

“Well,
that didn’t take long,” Jeff said with a surprised look out the doorway.
“They’re back already.”

Toltek
huffed into the room and seemed angry, or at least his face gave that
impression. Kalmit clicked his heels and bowed.

“I
have been asked by Senior Hetlan Toltek to convey his decision. Upon release,
we will return to the Homeland and attend to military affairs in theaters other
than Arvalia. Although distressed by this decision, the hetlan believes our
imprisonment serves no end.”

“And
the other officers?”

“I’m
sure the hetlan will prove persuasive.”

Rengeld
studied the two men while pondering Kalmit’s statement. Sincere in structure,
it was evasive in substance. Kalmit met his eyes calmly, but Toltek scowled at
a wall.

Jeff
couldn’t put his finger on it, but something was making him uneasy. He found
himself pawing at a breast pocket and smiled ruefully. Two puffs on that pipe
and I’m getting hooked. Jeff abruptly stiffened. What the hell was that? Did
someone just laugh?

The
impression, for it was no more than that, tickled his mind again. He was only
puzzled for a few moments. It hadn’t been that long since the Telling. Jeff
opened his mind and smiled with pleased amazement as information was arrayed
for his perception. The information was both foreign and quite interesting.
There was one Salchek custom he was now familiar with.

“I
am satisfied the hetlan will persuade the other officers. Before that occurs we
will need to have your individual oaths.”

Jeff’s
assumption of authority took Rengeld by surprise. He looked at Jeff with
narrowed eyes, but they had worked together long enough that he decided to let
matters ride. There was no doubt in his mind that Jeff was up to something.

“I
cannot give my word under these circumstances.”

Well
now, Jeff thought, glancing at Toltek, what have we here? What is he referring
to? Which circumstances? Time to find out. Jeff drew the gomwok from his breast
pocket.

When
Kalmit saw the pipe, his mouth moved but no words came out. Toltek rushed to
the table.

“You
must tell me where you came by this!” He caught himself and bowed. “Please.
Please tell me.”

Calmly
packing the gomwok with sindar weed, Jeff held it out to Toltek. He took it as
a revered object.

“Lingol
Bollit granted it to me as a last wish far south on the prairie.”

Rengeld
gripped the hilt of his sword and motioned to the guard. The guard had come to
the same conclusion and summoned two of his fellows into the room. Kalmit not
only looked like he was ready to explode with fury, his features had in fact
transformed into something hardly recognizable as human.

“You
stripped his body! This is intolerable! Honor means nothing to you animals!”
Kalmit lunged at Jeff.

Action
blurred into surreal elements that moved too fast for recognition. When time
slowed to its usual pace, Kalmit was thrashing on the floor and his hands were
being bound.

“Barbarian
swine! Not even a chattel would perform such an act!”

“Perhaps,”
Jeff said pleasantly. “I can understand your anger, yet I have given Lingol
Bollit’s smoke to the winds and the Song for the Dead has been sung. We have
seen the light of his passage and he is with me now. Will you share the gomwok
in memory of a dedicated, courageous man? Will this not reveal the truth?”

The
guards hoisted Kalmit to his feet. “I do not share this sacred ceremony with
vagabond thieves,” he snarled. There was no conviction in his voice and his
eyes constantly returned to the gomwok, which Toltek still held.

“May
I have the pouch of sindar weed and the loan of your stylus?” Jeff handed both
to Toltek.

Inserting
the stylus, Toltek emptied the bowl into the pouch. “Please observe.” Jeff
stood up so he could, and received a thorough lesson on how much sindar weed to
use, very little, and how tightly to pack it, not very. Toltek handed the
gomwok to Jeff. “You must know that sindar weed is worth more by weight than
gold, yet the gomwok far exceeds such value for it is sacred, even as Kalmit
has implied.”

“Why
do you tell me this?”

Rather
than answer directly, Toltek said, “Will you tell me of Lingol’s death?”

Rengeld
had not heard the story and motioned for Jeff to go ahead. At the conclusion,
the room was hushed. While Kalmit appeared stunned, Toltek was radiant.

“It
is true. You have seen the Light of Passage. Will you tell me of the Song for
the Dead?”

It
was late, matters were not complete concerning the prisoners, and, more
importantly, Jeff was not about to share the words with Kalmit.

“Perhaps
later in a more worthy setting.” Jeff decided it was time to return the ball to
Rengeld’s court where it belonged. “Commander Rengeld, my apologies for
intruding.”

“Given
the outcome you have my thanks, Captain.” He turned to the prisoners. “And now
let us try conclusions. Kalmit, you are senior and have attempted to use an
officer junior to yourself as a ploy to avoid giving your word of honor. Such
an act, to use a man in this fashion, indicates to me that your word is
worthless absent the gomwok. Either you share in its smoke or you will
certainly remain imprisoned. Hetlan Toltek, I will accept your word as
sufficient.”

“Lingol
Bollit was my friend. I would share his smoke in remembrance.” He smiled at
Kalmit. “Come, my hetlan, will you not join us?”

In
the blink of an eye Kalmit’s face transformed again. The changes were so
grotesque and horrifying that Jeff and Rengeld leaped to their feet drawing
swords. Words of fury that could not be understood but which were perceived to
fly from Kalmit’s mouth as virtual objects spewed forth in a chainsaw roar.
Heavy with incredible malice, they caromed around the room seeking to
extinguish life in murder and madness.

Rengeld
and Jeff lunged away to the left and right in a wild scramble. Black foam
sprayed from Kalmit’s mouth in stinging droplets and he burst the bonds on his
wrists as if they were string. Yellow tusks suddenly protruded from open jaws
and he sprang at Jeff.

In
a brief twinkle of light, Berold flew to meet him with all the strength in
Jeff’s arm. Penetrating chest wall and lungs, six inches of blade sprang out of
Kalmit’s back to stand in silver relief. For one brief instant motion stopped.
Kalmit’s eyes bulged and he emitted a deafening roar of pain.

Now
the words were screamed, words of demonic command that blasted water from the
walls in steaming vapor and sent furniture tumbling to shatter against stone.
Green fluid flowed over the blade in smoking tendrils but could not quench the
power of Light over Darkness. Spittle burned like acid on Jeff’s face and clawed
hands ripped at his clothing. Gripping the sword hilt with both hands, Jeff
braced his legs and forced Kalmit backward.

The
body that had been Kalmit’s convulsed in great, wracking contortions that flung
Jeff from side to side. Berold would not relent and remained entrenched as if
locked in stone. And still man and sword endured as Kalmit thrashed on the
floor in an attempt to dislodge the blade. Then Toltek was there and dropped a
single shred of sindar weed. Brilliant flames of golden white joined silver
steel and neither did they heed the cry of final anguish. So died that which
had been born Kalmit.

“Do
not withdraw the blade, but release it! Step back! It is not done! The man is
gone, not the Yakul!”

Jeff
forced his hands to open and jumped back. The sodden body on the floor twitched
and slithered about like a serpent while all vestiges of human form
disappeared. The face was black, had a pig’s snout and curving tusks, and red
eyes glared around the room. Hair-covered hands totally out of proportion to
the arms wrenched at Berold to no effect.

“Get
out of my way!”

Something
crashed in the hallway and Gaereth burst into the room with Carl right behind.
Gaereth took one look at the monstrosity on the floor and called out in a deep
voice, “Begone, evil that was! Visit this land no more! Salag Toleth!”
Green-blue flames leaped high in actinic display and Berold clattered to the
floor, for the creature was gone.

Rengeld
picked himself up and slapped at smoldering spots on his uniform. A guard lay
sprawled on his back, sightless eyes wide with horror. His chest was split open
revealing charred lungs. Nothing was left of his heart except a lump of
carbonized muscle. Another guard lay unconscious but breathing in the doorway.
The third was nowhere to be seen.

“About
time.” Carl held his mug up.

An
orderly cautiously followed the mug as it shook this way and that. He had
become adept at doing so two mugs ago and didn’t spill a drop.

Rengeld
dismissed the orderly and shut the door to his office. “Will the guard survive,
Carl?”

“Yes,
he’s not seriously wounded. The mental shock is another matter. It will be some
months before we know the outcome. It’s the other one, the one that died, that
really shook me up. From what you’ve said, Kalmit never physically touched
him.” Carl glanced at Jeff. “I still can’t believe you actually saw words leave
his mouth and fly around the room. What were they? I mean, that isn’t
possible!”