The Hidden City (64 page)

* * *

The ledge that ran along the back of the palace made reaching the central tower a matter of hardly more than a casual stroll. It still took time, however, and Sparhawk was acutely aware of the fact that the night was already more than half over. Mirtai and Talen moved up the side of the tower quickly, but the rest of them, roped together for safety, made much slower progress.

Sparhawk was peering upward when Kalten joined him. ‘Where's Aphrael?' the blond Pandion asked quietly.

‘Everywhere. Didn't she tell you?'

‘Very funny, Sparhawk.' Kalten looked off toward the east. ‘Are we going to make it before it starts getting light?'

‘It could be close. There seems to be some kind of balcony just above us – and lit windows.'

‘Are we going around them?'

‘I'll have Talen take a look. If there aren't too many Cyrgai in the room, we might be able to finish this climb inside.'

‘Let's not take chances, Sparhawk. I'll climb all the way to the moon if I have to. Go on up. I've got the rope tied off.'

‘Right.' Sparhawk started up again. A slight breeze had come up, brushing the basalt wall with tenuous fingers. It was not strong enough to pose any dangers as yet, but Sparhawk definitely didn't want it getting any stronger.

‘You're out of condition, Sparhawk,' Mirtai told him critically when he reached the spot just below where she and Talen clung to the wall.

‘Nobody's perfect. Can you make out any details of that balcony yet?'

‘I was just going to swing over and have a look,' Talen replied. He untied the rope from about his waist and began working his way across the wall toward the balcony.

‘You're making me cross, Sparhawk.' Aphrael's voice
seemed very loud in the silence of his mind. ‘I have plans for that young man, and they
don't
include scraping him up off a street five hundred feet below.'

‘He knows what he's doing. You worry too much. As long as you're here, could you give me a few details about the top of this tower?'

‘There's a separate building up there – probably an afterthought of some kind. It's got three rooms: a guardroom for the platoon or so of ceremonial troops, the cell where Mother and Alean are being held, and a large room across the front. Santheocles spends most of his time there.'

‘Santheocles?'

‘The King of the Cyrgai. He's an idiot. They all are, but he's worse than most.'

‘Is there a window in Ehlana's cell?'

‘A small one. It's barred, but you couldn't get through it anyway. The building up there is smaller than the rest of this tower, so there's a kind of parapet that runs all the way round it.'

‘Do those guards patrol it?'

‘No. There's no real need for that. It's the highest place in the city, and the notion that somebody might scale the tower has never occurred to the Cyrgai.'

‘Is Santheocles up there right now?'

‘He
was,
but I think he might have left since I looked in through the window. Zalasta was with him – and Ekatas. There was some sort of gathering they were planning to attend.'

There was a low whistle, and Sparhawk looked toward the balcony. Talen was motioning to him. ‘I'm going to go and have a look,' Sparhawk told Mirtai.

‘Don't be too long,' she cautioned. ‘The night's starting to run out on us.'

He grunted and started across toward the balcony.

* * *

The drawbridge was down, and no one was standing watch. ‘How very convenient,' Elysoun said as she, Liatris and Gahennas crossed the bridge into the courtyard of the castle. ‘Chacole thinks of everything, doesn't she?'

‘I thought there were supposed to be Church Knights on guard here,' Gahennas said. ‘Chacole couldn't bribe
them,
could she?'

‘Lord Vanion took his knights with him,' Liatris replied. ‘The responsibility for guarding the castle's been turned over to ceremonial troops from the main garrison. Some officer is probably quite a bit richer than he was yesterday. You've been here before, Elysoun. Where can we find our husband?'

‘He's usually up on the second floor. There are royal apartments there.'

‘We'd better get up there in a hurry. That unguarded gate makes me very nervous. I doubt that we'd be able to find a guard anywhere in the castle, and that means that Chacole's assassins have free access to Sarabian.'

The balcony appeared not to have been used for at least a generation. Dust lay deep in the corners, and the thick crust of bird-droppings on the floor was undisturbed. Talen was crouched beside the window, peering round the edge, when Sparhawk came up over the stone balustrade. ‘Is there anybody in there?' the big Pandion whispered.

‘A whole crowd,' Talen whispered back. ‘Zalasta just came in with a couple of Cyrgai.'

Sparhawk joined his young friend and looked in.

The room appeared to be some kind of torch-lit audience hall or throne-room. The balcony where Sparhawk and Talen crouched was above the level of the floor and was reached from the inside by a flight of stone stairs.
There was a slightly raised dais at the far end of the room with a throne carved from a single rock at the back of it. A well-muscled, handsome man in an ornate breastplate and a short leather kirtle sat on the throne surveying the men around him with an imperious expression. Zalasta stood to one side of the man on the throne, and a wrinkled man in an ornamented black robe was at the front of the dais speaking in his own language. Sparhawk swore and quickly cast the spell.

‘Now what?' Aphrael's voice sounded in his mind.

‘Can you translate for me?'

‘I can do better than that.'

He seemed to hear a faint buzzing sound and felt a momentary giddiness.

‘… and even now those forces do surround the sacred city,' the wrinkled man was saying in a language Sparhawk now understood.

A man with iron-grey hair and powerfully muscled arms stepped forward from the gathering before the dais. ‘What is there to fear, Ekatas?' he asked in a booming voice. ‘Mighty Cyrgon clouds the eyes of our enemies as he has for a hundred centuries. Let them crouch among the bones beyond our valley and seek vainly the Gates of Illusion. They are as blind men and pose no danger to the Hidden City.'

There was a murmur of agreement from the others standing before the dais.

‘General Ospados speaks truth,' another armored man declared, also stepping forward. ‘Let us, as we have always, ignore these puny foreigners at our gates.'

‘Shameful!' another bellowed, stepping to the front some distance from the two who had already spoken. ‘Will we hide from inferior races? Their presence at our gates is an affront that must be punished!'

‘Can you make out what they're saying?' Talen whispered.

‘They're arguing,' Sparhawk replied.

‘Really?' Talen's tone was sardonic. ‘Could you be a little more specific, Sparhawk?'

‘Evidently Aphrael's cousins have managed to get everybody here. From what the fellow in the black robe was saying, the city's surrounded.'

‘It's a comfort to have friends nearby. What do these people plan to do about it?'

That's what they're arguing about. Some of them want to just sit tight. Others want to attack.'

Then Zalasta came to the front of the dais. ‘Thus says Eternal Klæl,' he declared. ‘The forces beyond the Gates of Illusion are as nothing. The danger is here within the walls of the Hidden City. Anakha is even now within the sound of my voice.'

Sparhawk swore.

‘What's wrong?' Talen demanded.

‘Zalasta knows we're here.'

‘How did he find
that
out?'

‘I have no idea. He says that he's speaking for Klæl, and Klæl can probably feel Bhelliom.'

‘Even through the gold?'

‘The gold might hide Bhelliom from Cyrgon, but Bhelliom and Klæl are brothers. They can probably feel each other halfway across the universe – even when there are whole suns burning between them.' Sparhawk held up his hand. ‘He's saying something else.' He leaned closer to the window.

‘I know you can hear me, Sparhawk!' Zalasta said in a loud voice, speaking in Elenic. ‘You're Bhelliom's creature, and that gives you a certain amount of power. But I am Klæl's now, and that gives me just as much as you have.' Zalasta sneered. ‘The disguises were very clever, but Klæl saw through them immediately. You
should have done as you were told, Sparhawk. You've doomed your two young friends, and there's not a single thing you can do about it.'

There were a half-dozen men in nondescript clothing in the hallway outside the door to the room where the Emperor had been the last time Elysoun had visited him. Elysoun did not even think. ‘Sarabian!' she shouted. ‘Lock your door!'

The Emperor, of course, did not. After a momentary shocked pause while the assassins froze in their tracks and Liatris blistered the air around her with curses even as she drew her daggers, the door burst open and Sarabian, dressed in Elene hose, a full-sleeved linen shirt, and with his long, black hair tied back, lunged out into the hallway, rapier in hand.

Sarabian was tall for a Tamul, and his first lunge pinned an assassin to the wall opposite the door. The Emperor whipped his sword free of the suddenly collapsing body with a dramatic flourish.

‘Quit showing off!' Liatris snapped at her husband as she neatly ripped one of the assassins up the middle. ‘Pay attention!'

‘Yes, my love,' Sarabian said gaily, crouching again into
en garde.

Elysoun had only a small, neat dagger with a five-inch blade. It was long enough, though. An Arjuni assassin with a foot-long poniard parried Sarabian's next thrust and, snarling spitefully, rushed forward with his needle-like dagger directed at the Emperor's very eyes. Then he arched back with a choked cry. Elysoun's little knife, sharp as any razor, had plunged smoothly into the small of his back, ripping into his kidneys.

It was Gahennas, however, who startled and shocked them all. Her weapon was a slim, curved knife. With a shrill scream, the jug-eared Tegan Empress flew into the
middle of the fray, slashing at the faces of Chacole's hired killers. Screeching, Gahennas hacked at the startled assailants, and Sarabian took advantage of every lapse. His thin blade whistled as he danced the deadly dance of thrust and recover. This is not to say that the Emperor of Tamuli was a master swordsman. He
was
fairly skilled, but Stragen might have found room for criticism. In truth, it was the wives who carried the day – or night, in this case.

‘Inside, my dear ones,' Sarabian said, thrusting his savage women toward the door while he slashed at the empty air over the fallen assassins. ‘I'll cover your backs.'

‘Oh, dear,' Liatris murmured to Elysoun and Gahennas. ‘He's such a baby.'

‘Yes, Liatris,' Elysoun replied, wrapping one arm affectionately about her ugly Tegan sister, ‘but he's ours.'

‘Kring's coming,' Khalad said quietly, pointing at the shadowy horseman galloping across the bone-littered gravel in the moonlight.

‘That's not a good idea,' Berit said, frowning. ‘Somebody might be watching.'

The Domi reached them and reined in sharply ‘Come away!' he hissed.

‘What's wrong?' Berit demanded.

‘The Child Goddess says for you to come back to where the others are! The Cyrgai are coming out to kill you.'

‘I was wondering how long it was going to take them to decide to try that,' Khalad said, swinging up into his saddle. ‘Let's go, Berit.'

Berit nodded, reaching for Faran's reins. ‘Is Lord Vanion going to do anything when the Cyrgai come out?' he asked Kring.

Kring's answering grin was wolfish. ‘Friend Ulath has a little surprise for them when they come through the gate,' he replied.

Berit looked around. ‘Where is he?' he asked. ‘I don't see him.'

‘Neither will the Cyrgai – until it's too late. Let's get back away from this cliff. We'll let them see us. They've been ordered to kill you, so they'll come running after us. Friend Ulath has six or eight very hungry Trolls with him, and they'll be right on top of the Cyrgai when they come out.'

‘Did he know where you were?' Kalten asked tensely as they clung to the wall.

‘I don't think so,' Sparhawk replied. ‘He knows that I'm somewhere in the city, but there are several ways I could be listening to him. I don't think he realized just how close I was when he started making threats.'

‘Are Berit and Khalad going to be all right?'

Sparhawk nodded. ‘Aphrael was with me when Zalasta made his little speech. She's taking care of it.'

‘All right, Sparhawk,' Mirtai called from above them, ‘here comes the rope.'

The free end of the rope came slithering down out of the dimness above them, and Sparhawk quickly climbed up. ‘How much further?' he asked quietly when he reached Mirtai's side.

‘About one more climb,' she replied. ‘Talen's already up there.'

‘He should have waited,' Sparhawk fumed. ‘I'm going to have to have a talk with that boy.'

‘It won't do any good. Talen likes to take chances. Is Kalten still dragging our equipment behind him? I'd hate to get up there and have to deal with things with my fingernails.'

‘He's hauling it up – stage by stage.' Sparhawk peered up the wall.

‘Why don't you let me go on ahead this time? Get the others up there as quickly as you can. We've still got a lot left to do, and this night won't last forever.'

She gestured up the rough stone wall. ‘Feel free,' she said.

‘I don't know if I've ever said this,' he told her, ‘but I'm glad you came along. You're probably the best soldier I've ever known.'

‘Don't get emotional, Sparhawk. It's embarrassing. Are you going to go up the wall? Or did you want to wait for the sun to come up?'