The Shining Ones (35 page)

‘Absurd,’ Kolata scoffed weakly. His eyes, however, were wild, darting this way and that like those of a man looking for a place to hide.

Sparhawk looked appraisingly at Zalasta. The sorcerer’s face was deathly pale, but his eyes showed that he was still in control. It was going to take something more to push him over the edge. The big Pandion placed his left hand rather casually on his sword-hilt, giving Oscagne the pre-arranged signal.

‘We don’t seem to be getting anywhere, old boy,’ Oscagne drawled, recovering from his surprise. ‘I think you need some encouragement.’ He turned and looked at Xanetia. ‘Would you be so kind, Anarae?’ he asked her. ‘Our esteemed Minister of the Interior doesn’t seem to want to share things with us. Do you suppose you could persuade him to change his mind?’

‘I can but try, Oscagne of Matherion,’ Xanetia replied, rising to her feet. She crossed the front of the room, choosing for some reason to approach the prisoner from the side where Sephrenia sat rather than the one from which she herself had been watching. ‘Thou art afeared, Kolata of Matherion,’ she said gravely, ‘and thy fear doth make thee brave, for it is in thy mind that though they who hold thy body captive may do thee great harm, he who hath thy soul in thrall may do thee worse. Now must thou contend with yet an even greater fear. Look upon
me,
Kolata of Matherion, and tremble, for
I
will visit upon thee the ultimate horror. Wilt thou speak, and speak freely?’

‘I
can’t
!’ Kolata wailed.

‘Then art thou lost. Behold me as I truly am, and consider well thy fate, for I am death, Kolata of Matherion, death beyond thy most dreadful imagining.’ The color drained from her slowly, and the glow within
her was faint at first. She stood looking at him with her chin raised and an expression of deep sadness in her eyes as she glowed brighter and brighter.

Kolata screamed.

The other officials scrambled to their feet, their faces terrified, and their babbling suddenly shrill.

‘SIT DOWN!’ Sarabian bellowed at them. ‘AND BE SILENT!’

A few of them were cowed into obedience. Most, however, were too frightened. They continued to shrink back from Xanetia, crying out in shrill voices.

‘My Lord Vanion,’ Sarabian called over the tumult, ‘would you please restore order?’

‘At once, your Majesty.’ Vanion clapped down his visor, pulled his sword from its scabbard, and raised his shield. ‘Draw swords!’ He barked the command. There was a steely rasp as the Church Knights drew their swords. ‘Forward!’ Vanion ordered.

The knights posted along the walls marched clankingly forward, their swords at the ready, converging on the frightened officials. Vanion stretched forth his steel-clad arm, extending his sword and touching the tip to the throat of the Prime Minister. ‘I believe the Emperor told you to sit down, Pondia Subat,’ he said. ‘Do it!
NOW!’

The Prime Minister sank back into his chair, suddenly more afraid of Vanion than he was of Xanetia.

A couple of the council members had to be chased down and forcibly returned to their seats, and one rather athletic one, the Minister of Public Works, Sparhawk thought, was persuaded to come down from the drape he’d been climbing only by the threat of Khalad’s crossbow. Order was restored. When the council had returned – or been returned – to their seats, however, the Chancellor of the Exchequer was discovered lying on the floor, vacant-eyed and with a large bubble of
foam protruding from his gaping mouth. Vanion checked the body rather perfunctorily. ‘Poison,’ he said shortly. ‘He seems to have taken it himself.’

Ehlana shuddered.

‘Prithee, Anarae,’ Sarabian said to Xanetia, ‘continue thine inquiry.’

‘An it please your Majesty,’ she replied in that strange echoing voice. She turned her gaze on Kolata. ‘Wilt thou speak, and freely, Kolata of Matherion?’ she asked.

He shrank back in horror.

‘So be it, then.’ She put forth her hand and moved closer. ‘The curse of Edaemus is upon me,’ she warned, ‘and I bear its mark. I will share that curse with thee. Mayhap thou wilt regret thy silence when thy flesh doth decay and melt like wax from thy bones. The time hath come to choose, Kolata of Matherion. Speak or die. Who is it who hath stolen thy loyalty from thine appointed master?’ Her hand, more surely deadly than Vanion’s sword, was within inches of Kolata’s ashen face.

‘No!’ he shrieked. ‘No! I’ll tell you!’

The cloud appeared quite suddenly in the air above the gibbering minister, but Sparhawk was ready. Half hidden behind Ehlana’s throne, he had taken off his gauntlet and surreptitiously removed the Sapphire Rose from its confinement. ‘Blue Rose!’ he said sharply. ‘Destroy the cloud!’

The Bhelliom surged in his hand, and the dense, almost solid-appearing patch of intense darkness tattered, whipping like a pennon on a flag-staff in a hurricane, then it streamed away and was gone.

Zalasta was thrown back in his chair as his spell was broken. He half rose and fell back again, writhing and moaning as the jagged edges of his broken spell clawed at him. His chair overturned, and he convulsed on the floor like one caught in a seizure.

‘It was
him
!’ Kolata shrieked, pointing with a trembling hand. ‘It was Zalasta! He made me do it!’

Sephrenia’s gasp was clearly audible. Sparhawk looked sharply at her. She had fallen back, nearly as shaken as Zalasta himself. Her eyes were filled with disbelief and horror. Danae, Sparhawk noticed, was talking to her, speaking rapidly and holding her sister’s face quite firmly in her small hands.

‘Curse you, Sparhawk!’ The words came out in a kind of rasping croak as Zalasta, aided by his staff, dragged himself unsteadily to his feet. His face was shaken and twisted in frustration and rage. ‘You are
mine,
Sephrenia,
mine
!’ he howled. ‘I have longed for you for an eternity, watched as your thieving, guttersnipe Goddess stole you from me! But no more!
Thus
do I banish forever the Child Goddess and her hold on thee!’ His deadly staff whirled and leveled. ‘Die, Aphrael!’ he shrieked.

Sephrenia, without even thinking, clasped her arms around Sparhawk’s daughter and turned quickly in her seat, shielding the little girl with her own body, willingly offering her back to Zalasta’s fury.

Sparhawk’s heart froze as a ball of fire shot from the tip of the staff.

‘No!’ Vanion cried, trying to rush forward.

But Xanetia was already there. Her decision to approach Kolata from Sephrenia’s side of the room had clearly been influenced by her perception of what lay in Zalasta’s mind. She had consciously placed herself in a position to protect her enemy. Unafraid, she faced the raving Styric. The sizzling fireball streaked through the silent air of the throne-room, bearing with it all of Zalasta’s centuries-old hatred.

Xanetia held out her hand, and, like a tame bird returning to the hand that feeds it, the flaming orb settled into that hand. With only the faint hint of a smile
touching her lips, the Delphaeic woman closed her fingers around Zalasta’s pent-up hatred. For an instant, incandescent flame spurted out from between her pale fingers, and then she absorbed the fiery messenger of death, the light within her consuming it utterly. ‘What now, Zalasta of Styricum?’ she asked the raging sorcerer. ‘What dost thou propose now? Wilt thou contend with me more at peril of thy life? Or wilt thou, like the whipped cur thou art, cringe and flee my wrath? For I do know thee. It hath been
thy
poisoned tongue which hath set my sister’s heart against me. Flee, master of lies. Abuse Sephrenia’s ears no longer with thy foul slanders. Go. I abjure thee. Go.’

Zalasta howled, and in that howl there was a lifetime of unsatisfied longing and blackest despair.

And then he vanished.

Emperor Sarabian’s expression was strangely detached as he looked out over the shambles of his government. Some of the officials appeared to be in shock; others scurried aimlessly, babbling. Several were clustered at the main door, imploring the knights to let them out.

Oscagne, his diplomat’s face imperturbable, approached the dais. ‘Surprising turn of events,’ he noted, as if he were speaking of an unexpected summer shower. He studiously adjusted his black mantle, looking more and more like a judge.

‘Yes,’ Sarabian agreed, his eyes still lost in thought. ‘I think we might be able to exploit it, however. Sparhawk, is that dungeon down in the basement functional?’

‘Yes, your Majesty. The architect was very thorough.’

‘Good.’

‘What have you got in mind, Sarabian?’ Ehlana asked him.

He grinned at her, his face suddenly almost boyish. ‘I ain’t a-tellin’, dorlin’,’ he replied in outrageous imitation of Caalador’s dialect. ‘I purely wouldn’t want t’ spoil th’ surprise.’

‘Please, Sarabian,’ she said with a weary sigh.

‘Jist you watch, yer Queenship. I’m a-fixin’ t’ pull off a little koop my own-self.’

‘You’re going to make me cross, Sarabian.’

‘Don’t you love me any more, mother?’ His tone was excited and exhilarated.

‘Men!’ she said, rolling her eyes upward.

‘Just follow my lead, my friends,’ the Emperor told
them. ‘Let’s find out how well I’ve learned my lessons.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Lord Vanion,’ he called, ‘would you be so good as to return our guests to their seats?’

‘At once, your Majesty,’ Vanion replied. Vanion, forewarned of Zalasta’s treachery, was completely in control. He barked a few short commands, and the Church Knights firmly escorted the distracted officials back to their chairs.

‘What was he
doing
?’ Ehlana demanded of her husband in a tense whisper. ‘Why did he try to attack Danae?’

‘He didn’t, love,’ Sparhawk replied, thinking very quickly. ‘He was trying to attack Aphrael. Didn’t you see her? She was standing right beside Sephrenia.’

‘She
was
?’

‘Of course. I thought everyone in the room saw her, but maybe it was only me – and Zalasta. Why do you think he ran away so fast? Aphrael was right on the verge of jerking out his heart and eating it before his very eyes.’

She shuddered.

Emperor Sarabian moved to the front of the dais again. ‘Let’s come to order, gentlemen,’ he told them crisply. ‘We haven’t finished here yet. I gather that you were surprised by the revelation of Zalasta’s
true
position – some of you, anyway. I’m disappointed in you, my Lords – most of you for your profound lack of perception, the rest for not realizing that I could see through Zalasta – and you – like panes of glass. Some of you are traitors, the rest are merely stupid. I have no need of men of either stripe in my service. It is my excruciating pleasure to announce that at sunrise this morning, the Atan garrisons throughout Tamuli moved out of their barracks and replaced
all
imperial authorities with officers from their own ranks. With the exception of Matherion, the entire Empire is under martial law.’

They gaped at him.

‘Atan Engessa,’ Sarabian said.

‘Yes, Sarabian-Emperor?’

‘Would you be so kind as to eliminate that lone exception? Take your Atans out into the city and take charge of the capital.’

‘At once, Sarabian-Emperor.’ Engessa’s grin was very broad.

‘Be firm, Engessa. Show my subjects my fist.’

‘It shall be as you command, Sarabian-Emperor.’

‘Splendid chap,’ Sarabian murmured loudly enough to be heard as the towering Atan marched to the door.

‘Your Majesty,’ Pondia Subat protested weakly, half rising.

The look the Emperor gave his Prime Minister was icy. ‘I’m busy right now, Subat,’ he said. ‘You and I will talk later – extensively. I’m sure I’ll find your explanation of how all of this happened under your very nose without even disturbing your decades-long nap absolutely fascinating. Now sit down and be quiet.’

The Prime Minister sank back into his chair, his eyes very wide.

‘All of Tamuli is under martial law now,’ the Emperor told his officials. ‘Since you’ve failed so miserably, I’ve been obliged to step in and take charge. That makes you redundant, so you are all dismissed.’

There were gasps, and some of the officials, those longest in office and most convinced of their own neardivinity, cried out in protest.

‘Moreover,’ Sarabian cut across their objections, ‘the treason of Zalasta has cast doubt upon the loyalty of each and every one of you. If I cannot
trust
all, I must
suspect
all. I want you to search your souls tonight, gentlemen, because we’ll be asking you questions tomorrow, and we’ll want complete truth from you. We don’t have time for lies or excuses or attempts to wriggle
out from under your responsibility or guilt. I strongly recommend that you be forthcoming. The consequences of mendacity or evasion will be
very
unpleasant.’

Ulath took a long honing-steel from his belt and began to draw it slowly across the edge of his axe-blade. It made the sort of screech that sets the teeth on edge.

‘As a demonstration of my benevolence,’ Sarabian continued, ‘I’ve made arrangements for you all to be lodged here tonight, and to provide you with accommodations that will give each of you absolute privacy to review your past lives so that you can answer questions fully tomorrow. Lord Vanion, would you and your knights be so good as to escort our guests down to their quarters in the dungeon?’ Sarabian was improvising for all he was worth.

‘At once, your Majesty,’ Vanion replied, clashing his mailed fist against his breastplate in salute.

‘Ah, Lord Vanion,’ Ehlana added.

‘Yes, my Queen?’

‘You might consider searching our guests before you put them to bed. We don’t want any more of them hurting themselves the way the Chancellor of the Exchequer did, now do we?’

‘Excellent suggestion, your Majesty,’ Sarabian agreed. ‘Take all their toys away from them, Lord Vanion. We don’t want them to be distracted by anything.’ He paused a moment. ‘Actually, Lord Vanion, I rather think our guests will be able to concentrate a little better if they have something tangible about them to emphasize their situation. It seems that I read something once to the effect that the prisoners in Elene dungeons wear a kind of uniform.’

‘Yes, your Majesty,’ Vanion told him with an absolutely straight face. ‘It’s a sleeveless smock made of gray burlap – with a bright red stripe painted down the back,
so that they can be identified in case they escape.’

‘Do you suppose you might be able to find something along those lines for our guests?’

‘If not, we can improvise, your Majesty.’

‘Splendid, Lord Vanion – and take their jewels away from them as well. Jewels make people feel important, and I want them all to understand that they’re little more than bugs. I suppose you’d better feed them as well. What do people usually eat in dungeons?’

‘Bread and water, your Majesty – a little gruel once in a while.’

‘That should do nicely. Get them out of here, Vanion. The very sight of them is starting to nauseate me.’

Vanion barked a few sharp commands, and the knights descended on the former government.

Each official had an honor guard of armored men to escort him – in some cases to drag him – down to the dungeon.

‘Ah – stay a moment, Teovin,’ the Emperor said urbanely to the Director of the Secret Police. ‘I believe there was something you wanted to say to me?’

‘No, your Majesty.’ Teovin’s tone was sullen.

‘Come, come, old boy. Don’t be shy. We’re all friends here. If you’re in any way offended by anything I’ve done here today, spit it out. Milord Stragen will be happy to lend you his rapier, and then you and I can discuss things. I’m sure you’ll find my explanations quite pointed.’ Sarabian let his mantle slide to the floor. He smiled a chill smile and drew his rapier again. ‘Well?’ he said.

‘It would be treason for me to offer violence to your Majesty’s person,’ Teovin mumbled.

‘Good God, Teovin, why should
that
bother you? You’ve been involved in treason for the past several years anyway, so why concern yourself with a few picky little technicalities? Take up the sword, man. For once
– just once – face me openly. I’ll give you a fencing lesson – one you’ll remember for the rest of your life, short though that may be.’

‘I will not raise my hand against my Emperor,’ Teovin declared.

‘What a shame. I’m really disappointed in you, old boy. You may go now.’

Vanion took the Director’s arm in his mailed fist and half dragged him from the throne-room.

The Emperor of Tamuli exultantly raised his rapier over his head, rose onto tiptoe, and spun about in a flamboyant little pirouette. Then he extended one leg forward and bowed extravagantly to Ehlana, sweeping his slender sword to the side. ‘And
that,
dear mother,’ he said to her, ‘is how you overthrow a government.’

‘No, Lady Sephrenia,’ the queen said flatly a half-hour later when they had gathered again in the royal apartment, ‘you do
not
have our permission to withdraw. You’re a member of the royal council of Elenia, and we have need of you.’

Sephrenia’s pale, grief-stricken face went stiff. ‘As your Majesty commands.’

‘Snap out of it, Sephrenia. This is an emergency. We don’t have time for personal concerns. Zalasta’s betrayed us all, not just you. Now we have to try to minimize the damage.’

‘You’re not being fair, mother,’ Danae accused.

‘I’m not trying to be. You’ll be queen one day, Danae. Now sit down, keep your mouth shut, and learn.’

Danae looked startled. Then her chin came up. She curtsied. ‘Yes, your Majesty,’ she said.

‘That’s better. I’ll make a queen of you yet. Sir Bevier.’

‘Yes, your Majesty?’ Bevier replied.

‘Tell your Cyrinics to man their catapults. Vanion, put the rest of the knights on the walls and tell them to start
boiling the pitch. Zalasta’s on the loose out there. He’s completely lost control of himself, and we have no idea of what forces he has at his command. In his present state, he may try anything, so let’s be ready – just in case.’

‘You sound like a field-marshal, Ehlana,’ Sarabian told her.

‘I am,’ she replied absently. ‘It’s one of my titles. Sparhawk, can Bhelliom counter any magic Zalasta might throw at us?’

‘Easily, my Queen. He probably won’t try anything, though. You saw what happened to him when Bhelliom blew his cloud apart. It’s very painful to have one of your spells broken. Sephrenia knows him better than I do. She can tell you whether or not he’s desperate enough to risk that again.’

‘Well, Sephrenia?’ Ehlana asked.

‘I don’t really know, your Majesty,’ the small Styric woman replied after a moment’s thought. ‘This is a side of him I’ve never seen before. I honestly believe he’s gone mad. He might do almost anything.’

‘We’d better be ready for him, then. Mirtai, ask Kalten and Ulath to bring Kolata in here. Let’s find out just how far this conspiracy goes.’

Sparhawk drew Sephrenia to one side. ‘How did Zalasta find out about Danae?’ he asked. ‘It’s obvious that he knows who she really is. Did
you
tell him?’

‘No. She told me not to.’

‘That’s peculiar. I’ll talk with her later and find out why. Maybe she suspected something – or it might have been one of those hunches of hers.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Could he have been trying to kill
you?
It
seemed
that he was throwing that fireball at Danae, but
you
might have been his target.’

‘I could never believe that, Sparhawk.’

‘At this point, I’m almost ready to believe anything.’
He hesitated. ‘Xanetia knew about him, you realize. She told us earlier.’

‘Why didn’t you warn me?’ Her tone was shocked.

‘Because you wouldn’t have believed her. You’re not really inclined to trust her word, Sephrenia. You had to see Zalasta’s treachery for yourself. Oh, incidentally, she
did
save your life, you’ll remember. You might want to give that some thought.’

‘Don’t scold me, Sparhawk,’ she said with a wan little smile. ‘I’m having a difficult enough time as it is.’

‘I know, and I’m afraid nobody can make it any easier for you.’

Kolata proved to be very cooperative. His weeks of confinement had broken his spirit, and Zalasta’s obvious willingness to kill him had canceled any loyalty he might have felt. ‘I really don’t know,’ he replied to Oscagne’s question. ‘Teovin might, though. He’s the one who brought Zalasta’s proposal to me originally.’

‘Then you haven’t been involved in this affair since you were first appointed to office?’

‘I don’t think “this affair”, as you call it, has been going on for that long. I can’t say for certain, but I got the impression that it all started about five or six years ago.’

‘You’ve been recruiting people for longer than that.’

‘That was just ordinary Tamul politics, Oscagne. I knew that the Prime Minister was an idiot as soon as I took office.
You
were my only significant opponent. I was recruiting people to counter
your
moves – and your absurd idea that the subject kingdoms of Daresia are foreign nations rather than integral parts of metropolitan Tamuli.’

‘We can discuss jurisdictional disputes some other time, Kolata. It was Teovin, then? He’s been your contact with the enemy?’

Kolata nodded. ‘Teovin and a disreputable drunkard named Krager. Krager’s an Eosian, and he’s had dealings with Prince Sparhawk before, I understand. Everyone in our loose confederation knows him, so he makes a perfect messenger – when he’s sober.’

‘That’s Krager, all right,’ Kalten noted.

‘What exactly did Zalasta offer you, Kolata?’ Oscagne asked the prisoner.

‘Power, wealth – the usual. You’re a minister of the government, Oscagne. You know the game and the stakes we play for. We all thought that the Emperor was no more than a figurehead, well meaning, a little vague, and not really very well informed – sorry, your Majesty, but that’s what we all believed.’