The Hidden City (55 page)

Elysoun's casual attitude concealed a great deal
of
urgency. Chacole's Cynesgan upbringing had made her painfully obvious. She had drawn on the hatred of Sarabian's other wives for Empress Cieronna. That part was clever enough, but the elaborate, involved story of staging an imitation assassination-attempt was ridiculously excessive. Very clearly the attempt was
not
designed to fail, as Chacole and Torellia so piously proclaimed. Elysoun began to walk faster. She had to get to her husband in order to warn him that his life was in immediate danger.

‘Xanetia!' Kalten said, starting back in surprise as the Anarae suddenly appeared in their midst that evening. ‘Can't you cough or something before you do that?'

‘It was not mine intent to startle thee, my protector,' she apologized.

‘My nerves are strung a little tight right now,' he said.

‘Did you have any luck?' Mirtai asked.

‘I gleaned much, Atana Mirtai.' Xanetia paused, collecting her thoughts. ‘The slaves are not closely watched,' she began, ‘and their supervision is given over to Cynesgan overseers, for such menial tasks are beneath the dignity of the Cyrgai. The desert itself doth confine the slaves. Those foolish enough to attempt escape inevitably perish in that barren waste.'

‘What's the customary routine, Anarae?' Bevier asked her.

‘The slaves emerge from their pens at dawn,' she replied, ‘and, unbidden and unguarded, leave the city to take up their tasks. Then, at sunset, still uncommanded and scarce noticed, they return to the city and to the slave-pens for feeding. They are then chained and locked in their pens for the night to be released again at first light of day.'

‘Some of them are up here in these woods,' Mirtai noted, peering out through the trees that concealed them. ‘What are they supposed to be doing?'

‘They cut firewood for their masters in this extensive forest. The Cyrgai warm themselves with fires in the chill of winter. The kenneled slaves must endure the weather.'

‘Were you able to get any sense of how the city's laid out, Anarae?' Bevier asked her.

‘Some, Sir Knight.' She beckoned them to the edge of the trees so that they could look across the valley at the black-walled city. ‘The Cyrgai themselves live on the slopes of the hill which doth rise within the walls,' she explained, ‘and they do hold themselves aloof from the more mundane portion of the city below. There is yet another wall within the outer one, and that inner wall doth protect Cyrgon's Chosen from contact with inferior races. The lower city doth contain the slave-pens, the warehouses for foodstuffs, and the barracks of the Cynesgans who oversee the slaves and man the outer wall. As thou canst see, there is yet that final wall which doth enclose the summit of the hill. Within
that
ultimate wall lieth the palace of King Santheocles and the temple of Cyrgon.'

Bevier nodded. ‘It's fairly standard for a fortified town then.'

‘If thou wert aware of all this, why didst thou ask, Sir Knight?' she asked tartly.

‘Confirmation, dear lady,' he replied, smiling. ‘The
city's ten thousand years old. They might have had different ideas about how to build a fort before the invention of modern weapons.' He squinted across the valley at walled Cyrga. ‘They're obviously willing to sacrifice the lower city,' he said. ‘Otherwise that outer wall would be defended by Cyrgai. The fact that they've turned that chore over to the Cynesgans means that they don't place much value on those warehouses and slave-pens. The wall at the foot of “Mount Cyrgon” will be more fiercely defended, and if necessary, they'll pull back up the hill to that last wall that encloses the palace and the temple.'

‘All of this is well and good, Bevier,' Kalten interrupted him, ‘but where are Ehlana and Alean?'

Bevier gave him a surprised look. ‘Up on top, of course,' he replied, ‘either in the palace or in the temple.'

‘How did you arrive at that?'

‘They're hostages, Kalten. When you're holding hostages, you have to keep them close enough to threaten them when your enemies get too close.
Our
problem is how to get into the city.'

‘We'll come up with something,' Sparhawk said confidently. ‘Let's go back into the woods a ways and set up for the night.'

They moved back among the trees and ate cold rations, since a fire was out of the question.

‘The problem's still there, Sparhawk,' Kalten said as evening settled over the hidden valley. ‘How are we going to get inside all those walls?'

The first wall's easy,' Talen said. ‘We just walk in through the gate.'

‘How do you propose to do that without being challenged?' Kalten demanded.

‘People walk out of the city every morning and back again every evening, don't they?'

‘Those are slaves.'

‘Exactly.'

Kalten stared at him.

‘We want to get into the city, don't we? That's the easiest way.'

‘What about the other walls?' Bevier objected.

‘One wall at a time, Sir Knight,' Talen said gaily, ‘one wall at a time. Let's get through the outer one first.
Then
we'll worry about the other two.'

Daiya the Peloi came riding hard back across the gravelly desert about mid-morning the next day. ‘We've found them, your Reverence,' he reported to Bergsten as he reined in. ‘The Cynesgan cavalry tried to lead us away from where they're hiding, but we found them anyway. They're in those hills just ahead of us.'

‘More of those big ones with masks on their faces?' Heldin asked.

‘Some of those, friend Heldin,' Daiya replied. ‘But there are others as well – wearing old-fashioned helmets and carrying spears.'

‘Cyrgai,' Bergsten grunted. ‘Vanion mentioned them. Their tactics are so archaic that they won't be much of a problem.'

‘Where exactly are they, friend Daiya?' Heldin asked.

‘They're in a large canyon on the east side of those hills, friend Heldin. My scouts saw them from the canyon-rim.'

‘We definitely don't want to go into that canyon after them, your Grace,' Heldin cautioned. ‘They're infantry, and close quarters are made to order for their tactics. We'll have to devise some way to get them to come out into the open.'

Atana Maris asked Neran a question in Tamul, and he replied at some length. She nodded, spoke briefly to him, and then she ran off toward the south.

‘Where's she going?' Bergsten demanded.

‘She said that your enemies have laid a trap for you, your Grace,' Neran replied with a shrug. ‘She's going to go spring it.'

‘Stop her, Heldin!' Bergsten said sharply.

It must be said in Sir Heldin's defense that he
did
try to catch up to the lithe, fleet-footed Atan girl, but she merely glanced back over her shoulder, laughed, and ran even faster, leaving him far behind, flogging at his horse and muttering curses.

Bergsten's curses were
not
muttered. He blistered the air around him. ‘What is she
doing?'
he demanded of Neran.

‘They're planning an ambush, your Grace,' Neran replied calmly. ‘It won't work if somebody sees them hiding in that canyon. Atana Maris is going to run into the canyon, let them see her, and then run out again. They'll have to try to catch her. That'll bring them out into the open. You might want to give some thought to picking up your pace just a bit. She'll be terribly disappointed in you if you're not in position when she leads them out.'

Patriarch Bergsten looked out across the desert at the golden Atana running smoothly to the south with her long black hair flying behind her. Then he swore again, rose up in his stirrups, and bellowed, ‘Charge!'

Ekrasios and his comrades reached Synaqua late in the afternoon just as the sun broke through the heavy cloud-cover which had obscured the sky for the past several days.

The ruins of Synaqua were in much greater disrepair than had been the case with Panem-Dea and Norenja. The entire east wall had been undercut by one of the numerous streams which flowed sluggishly through the soggy delta of the Arjun River, and it had collapsed at
some unknown time in the past. When Scarpa's rebels had moved in to occupy the ruin, they had replaced it with a log palisade. The construction was shoddy, and the palisade was not particularly imposing.

Ekrasios considered that as he sat alone moodily watching the sun sinking into a cloud-bank off to the west. A serious problem had arisen following their disastrous assault on Norenja. It had
seemed
that there were many gates through which the panic-stricken rebels could flee, but their commander had blocked off those gates with heaps of rubble as a part of his defenses. The terrified soldiers had been trapped inside the walls, and had therefore had no choice but to turn and fight. Hundreds had died in unspeakable agony before Ekrasios had been able to divert his men into the uninhabited parts of the ruin so that the escape-route through the main gate was open. Many of the Delphae had wept openly at the horror they had been forced to inflict on men who were essentially no more than misguided peasants. It had taken Ekrasios two days and all of his eloquence to keep half his men from abandoning the cause and returning immediately to Delphaeus.

Adras, Ekrasios' boyhood friend and his second-in-command, was among the most profoundly disturbed. Adras now avoided his leader whenever possible, and the few communications that passed between them were abrupt and official. And so it was that Ekrasios was somewhat surprised when Adras came to him unsummoned in the ruddy glow of that fiery sunset.

‘A word with thee, Ekrasios,' he asked tentatively.

‘Of course, Adras. Thou knowest that it is not needful for thee to ask.'

‘I must advise thee that I will not participate in this night's work.'

‘We are bound by our pledge to Anakha, Adras,'
Ekrasios reminded him. ‘Our Anari hath sworn to this, and we are obliged to honor his oath.'

‘I cannot, Ekrasios!' Adras cried, sudden tears streaming down his face. ‘I cannot
bear
what I have done and must do again should I enter yon city. Surely Edaemus did not intend for us to so use his dreadful gift.'

There were a dozen arguments Ekrasios might have raised, but he knew in his heart that they were all spurious. ‘I will not insist, Adras. That would not be the act of a friend.' He sighed. ‘I am no less unquiet than thou, I do confess. We are not suited for war, Adras, and the curse of Edaemus makes
our
way of making war more horrible than the casual bloodletting of other races, and, since we are not fiends, the horror doth tear at our souls.' He paused. ‘Thou art not alone in this resolve, art thou, Adras? There are others as well, are there not?'

Adras nodded mutely.

‘How many?'

‘Close to a hundred and fifty, my friend.'

Ekrasios was shaken. Nearly a third of his force had quite literally defected. ‘You trouble me, Adras,' he said. I
will
not command thee to forswear the dictates of thy conscience, but thine absence and that of they who feel similarly constrained do raise doubts about our possible success this night. Let me think on't.' He began to pace up and down in the muddy forest clearing, considering various possibilities. ‘We may yet salvage some measure of victory this night,' he said finally. ‘Let me probe the extent of thy reluctance, my friend. I do concede that thou canst not in conscience enter the ruin which doth lie before us, but wilt thou abandon me utterly?'

‘Never, Ekrasios.'

‘I thank thee, Adras. Yet mayest thou and thy fellows further our design without injury to thy sensibilities. As we discovered at Norenja, the curse of Edaemus extends its effects to things other than flesh.'

‘Truly,' Adras agreed. ‘The gates of that mournful ruin did collapse in decay at our merest touch.'

‘The east wall of Synaqua is constructed of logs. Might I prevail upon thee and thy fellows to pull it down whilst I and the remainder of our force do enter the city?'

The mind of Adras was quick. His sudden grin erased the estrangement which had marred their friendship for the past several days. ‘Thou wert born to command, Ekrasios,' he said warmly. ‘My friends and I will most happily perform this task. Do thou and thy cohorts enter Synaqua by the front gate whilst I and mine do open a huge back gate to the east that they who reside within yon city may freely depart. Both ends are thus served.'

‘Well said, Adras,' Ekrasios approved. ‘Well said.'

They're out of sight now,' Talen hissed. ‘Go grab their cart.'

Kalten and Sparhawk rose from the bushes, appropriated the half-full wood-cart, and pulled it back out of sight. It was about noon.

‘I still think this is a really stupid idea,' Kalten grumbled. ‘Assuming that we don't get stopped when we try to go through the gate, how are we going to unload our weapons and mail-shirts without being seen? And how are we going to get out of the slave-pen to pick them up?'

‘Trust me.'

‘This boy's making me old, Sparhawk,' Kalten complained.

‘We might be able to pull it off, Kalten,' Bevier said. ‘Xanetia told us that the Cynesgan overseers don't pay much attention to the slaves. Right now, though, we'd better get this cart away from here before the fellows it belongs to come back and find that it's gone.'

They pulled the wobbly, two-wheeled cart along the narrow track toward the spot where Xanetia and Mirtai were concealed in the bushes. ‘Lo,' Mirtai said dryly from her hiding place, ‘our heroes return with the spoils of war.'

‘I love you, little sister,' Sparhawk retorted, ‘but you've got an overly clever mouth. Kalten's got a point, Talen. The Cynesgan overseers themselves might be too stupid to notice what we're doing, but the other slaves probably will, and the first one to open his mouth about it will probably get a lot of attention.'