Authors: David Eddings
A sudden cold fear gripped Sparhawk’s stomach. ‘Where’s Tynian?’ he asked.
‘He’s in the care of a physician. He caught a bolt in the shoulder, and it broke some things in there.’
‘Is he going to be all right?’
‘Probably. It didn’t improve his temper very much though. He uses his sword almost as well with his left hand as he does with his right. We had to restrain him when the ambushers broke and ran. He was going to chase them down one by one, and he was bleeding like a stuck pig. I think we’ve got spies here in this imitation
castle, Sparhawk. Those people couldn’t have laid that ambush without some fairly specific information about our route and our destination.’
‘We’ll sweep those hiding-places again.’
‘Good idea, and this time let’s do a bit more than reprimand the people we catch for bad manners. A spy can’t creep through hidden passages very well with two broken legs.’ The blond Pandion’s face was grim. ‘I get to do the breaking,’ he added. ‘I want to be sure that there aren’t any miraculous recoveries. A broken shinbone heals in a couple of months, but if you take a sledge-hammer to a man’s knees, you’ll put him out of action for much, much longer.’
Bevier, who led the survivors of
his
detachment back into Matherion two days later, took Kalten’s suggestion a step further.
His
notion involved amputations at the hip. The devout Cyrinic Knight was
very
angry about being ambushed and he used language Sparhawk had never heard from him before. When he had calmed himself finally, though, he contritely sought absolution from Patriarch Emban. Emban not only forgave him, but granted an indulgence as well – just in case he happened across some new swear-words.
A thorough search of the opalescent castle turned up no hidden listeners, and they all gathered to confer with Emperor Sarabian and Foreign Minister Oscagne the day after Sir Bevier’s return. They met high in the central tower, just to be on the safe side, and Sephrenia added a Styric spell to further ensure that their discussions would remain private.
‘I’m not accusing anyone,’ Vanion said, ‘so don’t take this personally. Word of our plans is somehow leaking out, so I think we should all pledge that no hint of what we discuss here should leave this room.’
‘An oath of silence, Lord Vanion?’ Kalten seemed surprised.
That Pandion tradition had fallen into disuse in the past century.
‘Well,’ Vanion amended, ‘something on that order, I suppose, but we’re not all Pandion Knights here, you know.’ He looked around. ‘All right then, let’s summarise the situation. The plot here in Matherion quite obviously goes beyond simple espionage. I think we’d better face up to the probability of an armed insurrection directed at the imperial compound. Our enemy seems to be growing impatient.’
‘Or fearful,’ Oscagne added. ‘The presence of Church Knights –
and
Prince Sparhawk – here in Matherion poses some kind of threat. His campaign of random terror, civil disturbance and incipient insurrection in the subject kingdoms was working fairly well, but it appears that something’s come up that makes that process too slow. He has to strike at the centre of imperial authority now.’
‘And directly at
me
, I gather,’ Emperor Sarabian added.
‘That’s unthinkable, your Majesty,’ Oscagne objected. ‘In all the history of the empire, no one
ever
directly confronted the emperor.’
‘Please, Oscagne,’ Sarabian said, ‘don’t treat me like an idiot. Any number of my predecessors have met with “accidents” or fallen fatally ill under peculiar circumstances. Inconvenient emperors
have
been removed before.’
‘But never right out in the open, your Majesty. That’s
terribly
impolite.’
Sarabian laughed. ‘I’m sure that the three government ministers who threw my great-great-grandfather from the top of the highest tower in the compound were all exquisitely courteous about it, Oscagne. We’re going to have an armed mob in the streets then, all enthusiastically howling for my blood?’
‘I wouldn’t discount the possibility, your Majesty,’ Vanion conceded.
‘I hate this,’ Ulath said sourly.
‘Hate what?’ Kalten asked him.
‘Isn’t it obvious? We’ve got an Elene castle here. It might not be
quite
as good as one that Bevier would have designed, but it’s still the strongest building in Matherion. We’ve got three days until the streets are going to be filled with armed civilians. We don’t have much choice. We
have
to pull back inside these walls – fort up until the Atans can restore order. I
detest
sieges.’
‘I’m sure we won’t have to go
that
far, Sir Ulath,’ Oscagne protested. ‘As soon as I heard about that message Master Caalador unearthed, I sent word to Norkan in Atana. There are ten thousand Atans massed twenty leagues from here. The conspirators aren’t going to move until after dark on the appointed day. I can have the streets awash with seven-foot tall Atans before noon of that same day. The attempted coup will fail before it ever gets started.’
‘And miss the chance to round them all up?’ Ulath said. ‘Very poor military thinking, your Excellency. We’ve got a defensible castle here. Bevier could hold this place for two years at least.’
‘Five,’ Bevier corrected. ‘There’s a well inside the walls. That adds three years.’
‘Even better,’ Ulath said. ‘We work on our fortifications here very quietly, and mostly at night. We bring in barrels of pitch and naphtha. Bevier builds siege-engines. Then, just before the sun goes down, we move the entire government and the Atan garrison inside the castle. The mob will storm the imperial compound and rage through the halls of all those impressive buildings here in the grounds. They won’t encounter any resistance – until they come here. They’ll try to storm our walls, and they’ll be over-confident because nobody will
have tried to fight them in any of the other buildings. They won’t really be expecting a hail-storm of large boulders or sheets of boiling pitch dumped in their faces. Add to that the fact that their crossbows won’t work because Khalad’s been breaking the triggers in that Dacite warehouse for the last two nights, and you’ve got a large group of people with a serious problem. They’ll mill around out there in confusion and chagrin, and then, probably about midnight, the Atans will enter the city, come to the imperial compound and grind the whole lot of them right into the ground.’
‘Yes!’ Engessa exclaimed enthusiastically.
‘It’s a brilliant plan, Sir Ulath,’ Sarabian told the big Thalesian. ‘Why are you so dissatisfied with it?’
‘Because I don’t like sieges, your Majesty.’
‘Ulath,’ Tynian said, wincing slightly as he shifted his broken shoulder, ‘don’t you think it’s time that you abandoned this pose? You’re as quick to suggest fortingup as any of the rest of us when the situation calls for it.’
‘Thalesians are
supposed
to hate sieges, Tynian. It’s a part of our national character. We’re supposed to be impetuous, impatient and more inclined toward brute force than toward well-considered endurance.’
‘Sir Ulath,’ Bevier said, smiling slightly, ‘King Wargun’s father endured a siege at Heid that lasted for seventeen years. He emerged from it none the worse for wear.’
‘Yes, but he didn’t
enjoy
it, Bevier. That’s my point.’
‘I think we’re overlooking an opportunity, my friends,’ Kring noted. ‘The mob’s going to come to the imperial compound here, right?’
‘If we’ve guessed their intentions correctly, yes,’ Tynian agreed.
‘
Some
of them are going to be all afire with political fervour – but not really very many, I don’t think. Most
of them are going to be more interested in looting the various palaces.’
Sarabian’s face blanched. ‘Hell and night!’ he swore. ‘I hadn’t even thought of that!’
‘Don’t be too concerned, friend Emperor,’ the Domi told him. ‘Whether it’s politics or greed that brings them, they’ll almost all come into the grounds. The walls around the compound are high and the gates very imposing. Why don’t we let them come in – but then make sure they don’t leave? I can hide men near the gate-house. After the mob’s in the grounds, we’ll close the gates. That should keep them all more or less on hand to greet the Atans when they arrive. The loot will bring them in, and the gates will keep them in. They’ll loot, right enough, but loot isn’t really yours until you’ve escaped with it. We’ll catch them all this way, and we won’t have to dig any of them out of rabbit-holes later.’
‘That’s got real possibilities, you know that, Kring?’ Kalten said admiringly.
‘I’d have expected no less of him,’ Mirtai said. ‘He
is
a brilliant warrior, after all –
and
my betrothed.’
Kring beamed.
‘One last touch, perhaps,’ Stragen added. ‘I think we all have a burning curiosity about certain things, and we’ve compiled this list of the names of people who might have answers to some of our most urgent questions. Battles are chancy, and sometimes valuable people get killed. I think there are some out there in Matherion who should be removed to safety before the fighting starts.’
‘Good idea, Milord Stragen,’ Sarabian agreed. ‘I’ll send out some detachments on the morning of the big day to round up those we’d like to keep alive.’
‘Ah – perhaps that might not be the best way to go at it, your Majesty. Why not let Caalador attend to it? As
a group, policemen tend to be obvious when they arrest people – uniforms, chains, marching in step – that sort of thing. Professional murderers are much more unobtrusive. You don’t have to put chains on a man when you arrest him. A dagger-point held discreetly to his side is just as effective, I’ve found.’
Sarabian gave him a shrewd look. ‘You’re speaking from experience, I gather?’ he speculated.
‘Murder
is
a crime, your Majesty,’ Stragen pointed out, ‘and as a leader of criminals, I should have
some
experience in all branches of the field. Professionalism, you understand.’
‘It was definitely Scarpa, Sparhawk,’ Caalador assured the big Pandion. ‘We didn’t have to rely entirely on the drawing. One of the local whores is from Arjuna, and she’s had business-dealings with him in the past. She positively identified him.’ The two of them were standing atop the castle wall where they could speak privately.
‘That seems to be everybody but Baron Parok of Daconia then,’ Sparhawk noted. ‘We’ve seen Krager, Gerrich, Rebal of Edom, this Scarpa from Arjuna, and Elron from Astel.’
‘I thought the conspirator from Astel was called Sabre,’ Caalador said.
Sparhawk silently cursed his careless tongue. ‘Sabre keeps his face hidden,’ he said. ‘Elron’s a sympathizer – more than that, probably.’
Caalador nodded. ‘I’ve known some Astels,’ he agreed, ‘
and
some Dacites, too. I wouldn’t be positive that Baron Parok’s not lurking in the shadows somewhere. They’re definitely all gathering here in Matherion.’ He looked thoughtfully out over the gleaming nacreous battlements at the fosse below. ‘Is that ditch down there going to be all that much a barrier?’ he asked. ‘The sides are so gently sloped that there’s lawn growing on them.’
‘It gets more inconvenient when it’s filled with sharpened stakes,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘We’ll do that at the last minute. Has there been any influx of strangers into Matherion? All those assorted patriots have large
followings. A mob gathered off the streets is one thing, but a horde drawn from most of Tamuli would be something else entirely.’
‘We haven’t seen any unusual number of strangers here in town,’ Caalador said, ‘and there aren’t any large gatherings out in the countryside – at least not within five leagues in any direction.’
‘They could be holding in place farther on out,’ Sparhawk said. ‘If
I
had a supporting army out there someplace,
I
wouldn’t bring them in until the last minute.’
Caalador turned and looked pointedly at the harbour. ‘That’s our weakness right there, Sparhawk. There could be a fleet hiding in coves and inlets along the coast. We’d never see them coming until they showed up on the horizon. I’ve got pirates and smugglers scouring the coasts, but –’ He spread his hands.
‘There’s not very much we can do about it, I’m afraid,’ Sparhawk said. ‘We’ve got an army of Atans close at hand though, and they’ll be inside the city soon after the uprising starts. Do your people have the hiding places of these assorted visitors fairly well-pinpointed? If things go well, I’d like to sweep them all up at once if possible.’
‘They don’t seem to have lighted in specific places yet, Sparhawk. They’re all moving around quite a bit. I’ve got people following them. We could pick them up early, if you’d like.’
‘Let’s not expose our preparations. If we can catch them on the day of the uprising, fine. If not, we can chase them down later. I’m not going to endanger our counter-measures just for the pleasure of their company. Your people are doing very well, Caalador.’
‘Their performance is a bit forced, my friend,’ Caalador admitted ruefully. ‘I’ve had to gather a large number of burly ruffians with clubs to keep reminding the Tamul criminals that we’re all working together in this affair.’
‘Whatever it takes.’
‘Her Majesty’s suggestion has some advantages, Lord Vanion,’ Bevier said after giving it some thought. ‘It’s what the fosse was designed for originally anyway. It’s supposed to be a moat, not just a grassy ditch.’
‘It completely exposes the fact that we’re preparing to defend the castle, Bevier,’ Vanion objected. ‘If we start pumping the moat full of water, everybody in Matherion will know about it within the hour.’
‘You didn’t listen to the whole plan, Vanion,’ Ehlana said patiently. ‘We’ve been attending balls and banquets and various other entertainments ever since we arrived here. It’s only proper that I respond to all those kindnesses, so I’m planning a grand entertainment to pay my social obligations. It’s not my fault that it’s going to take place on the night of the uprising, is it? We have an Elene castle, so we’ll have an Elene party. We’ll have an orchestra on the battlements, coloured lanterns and buntings on the walls and festive barges in the moat – complete with canopies and banquet tables. I’ll invite the emperor and his whole court.’
‘That would be extremely convenient, Lord Vanion,’ Tynian said. ‘We’d have everybody we want to protect right close at hand. We wouldn’t have to go looking for them, and we wouldn’t alert anybody to what we’re doing by chasing cabinet ministers across the lawns.’
Sparhawk’s squire was shaking his head.
‘What is it, Khalad?’ Ehlana asked him.
‘The bottom of the ditch hasn’t been prepared to hold water, your Majesty. We don’t know how porous the sub-soil is. There’s a very good chance that the water you pump in will just seep into the ground. Your moat could be empty again a few hours after you fill it.’
‘Oh, bother!’ Ehlana fretted. ‘I didn’t think of that.’
‘I’ll take care of it, Ehlana,’ Sephrenia smiled. ‘A good
plan shouldn’t be abandoned just because it violates a few natural laws.’
‘Would you have to do that
before
we started to fill the moat, Sephrenia?’ Stragen asked her.
‘It’s easier that way.’
He frowned.
‘What’s the problem?’ she asked.
‘There are those three tunnels that lead under the fosse to connect with the hidden passageways and listening posts inside the castle.’
‘Three that we know about, anyway,’ Ulath added.
‘Exactly my point. Wouldn’t we all feel more secure if all those tunnels – the ones we know about
and
the ones we don’t – are flooded before the fighting starts?’
‘Good point,’ Sparhawk said.
‘I can wait to seal the bottom of the moat until after you’ve flooded the tunnels,’ Sephrenia told them.
‘What do you think, Vanion?’ Emban asked.
‘The preparations for the queen’s party
would
cover a lot of activity,’ Vanion conceded. ‘It’s a very good plan.’
‘I like all of it except the barges,’ Sparhawk said. ‘I’m sorry, Ehlana, but those barges would just give the mob access to our walls. They’d defeat the whole purpose the moat was designed for in the first place.’
‘I’m getting to that, Sparhawk. Doesn’t naphtha float on top of water?’
‘Yes, but what’s that got to do with it?’
‘A barge isn’t just a floating platform, you know. It’s got a hold under the deck. Now, suppose we fill the holds with casks of naphtha. Then, when the trouble starts, we throw boulders down from the battlements and crack the barges open like eggshells. The naphtha will spread out over the water in the moat, we set fire to it and surround the castle with a wall of flame. Wouldn’t that sort of inconvenience people trying to attack the castle?’
‘You’re a
genius
, my Queen!’ Kalten exclaimed.
‘How nice of you to have noticed that, Sir Kalten,’ she replied smugly. ‘And the beautiful part about the whole thing is that we can make all of our preparations right out in the open without sneaking around at night and losing all that sleep. This grand party gives us the perfect excuse to do almost anything to the castle in the name of decoration.’
Mirtai suddenly embraced her owner and kissed her. ‘I’m proud of you, my mother,’ she said.
‘I’m glad you approve, my daughter,’ Ehlana said modestly, ‘but you really ought to be more reserved, you know. Remember what you told me about girls kissing girls.’
‘We found two more tunnels, Sparhawk,’ Khalad reported as his lord joined him on the parapet. Khalad was wearing a canvas smock over his black leather vest.
Sparhawk looked out at the moat where a gang of workmen were driving long steel rods into the soft earth at the bottom of the ditch. ‘Isn’t that a little obvious?’ he asked.
‘We have to have mooring stakes for the barges, don’t we? The tunnels are all about five feet below the surface. Most of the workmen with the sledge-hammers don’t know what they’re really looking for, but I’ve got a fair number of knights down in the ditch with them. The ceilings of those tunnels will be very leaky when we start to fill the moat.’ Khalad looked out across the lawn. Then he cupped his hands around his mouth. ‘Be careful with that barge!’ he bellowed in Tamul. ‘If you spring her seams, she’ll leak!’
The foreman of the Tamul work-crew laboriously pulling the broad-beamed barge across the lawn on rollers looked up. ‘It’s very heavy, honoured sir,’ he called back. ‘What have you got inside of it?’
‘Ballast, you idiot!’ Khalad called back. ‘There are going to be a lot of people on that deck tomorrow night. If the barge capsizes and the emperor falls in the moat, we’ll all be in trouble.’
Sparhawk looked inquiringly at his squire.
‘We’re putting the naphtha casks in the barges inside the construction sheds,’ Khalad explained. ‘We decided to do that more or less in private.’ He looked at his lord. ‘You don’t necessarily have to tell your wife I said this, Sparhawk,’ he said, ‘but there were a few gaps in her plan. The naphtha was a good idea – as far as it went, but we’ve added some pitch as well, just to make sure it catches on fire when we want it to. Naphtha casks are also very tight. They won’t do us much good if they just sink to the bottom of the moat when we break open the barges. I’m going to put a couple of Kring’s Peloi in the hold of each barge. They’ll take axes to the casks at the last minute.’
‘You think of everything, Khalad.’
‘Somebody has to be practical in this group.’
‘Now you sound like your father.’
‘There is one thing though, Sparhawk. Your party-goers are going to have to be very, very
careful.
There’ll be lanterns – and probably candles as well – on those barges. One little accident could start the fire quite a bit sooner than we’d planned, and – ah, actually, we’re a bit ahead of schedule, your Highness,’ he said in Tamul for the benefit of the half dozen labourers who were pulling a two-wheeled cart along the parapet. The cart was filled with lanterns which the labourers were hanging from the battlements. ‘No, no, no!’ Khalad chided them. ‘You can’t put two green ones side by side like that. I’ve told you a thousand times – white, green, red, blue. Do it the way I told you to do it. Be creative in your own time.’ He sighed exaggeratedly. ‘It’s
so
hard to get good help these days, your Highness,’ he said.
‘You’re overacting, Khalad,’ Sparhawk muttered.
‘I know, but I want to be sure they’re getting the point.’
Kring came along the parapet rubbing his hand over his scarred head. ‘I need a shave,’ he said absently, ‘and Mirtai’s too busy to attend to it.’
‘Is that a Peloi custom, Domi?’ Sparhawk asked. ‘Is it one of the duties of a Peloi woman to shave her man’s head?’
‘No, actually it’s Mirtai’s personal idea. It’s hard to see the back of your own head, and I used to miss a few places. Shortly after we were betrothed, she took my razor away from me and told me that from now on,
she
was going to do the shaving. She does a very nice job, really – when she isn’t too busy.’ He squared his shoulders. ‘They absolutely refused, Sparhawk,’ he reported. ‘I knew they would, but I put the matter before them the way you asked. They
won’t
be locked up inside your fort during the battle. If you stop and think about it, though, we’ll be much more useful ranging around the grounds on horseback anyway. A few score mounted Peloi will stir that mob around like a kettle-full of boiling soup. If you want confusion out there tomorrow night, we’ll give you lots of confusion. A man who’s worried about getting a sabre across the back of the head isn’t going to be able to concentrate on attacking a fort.’
‘Particularly when his weapon doesn’t work,’ Khalad added.
Sparhawk grunted. ‘Of course we’re assuming that the warehouse full of crossbows Caalador found was the only one,’ he added.
‘I’m afraid we won’t find that out until tomorrow night,’ Khalad conceded. ‘I disabled about six hundred of those things. If twelve hundred crossbowmen come into the palace grounds we’ll know that half of their weapons are going to work. We’ll have to take cover at
that point. You there!’ he shouted suddenly, looking upward. ‘
Drape
that bunting! Don’t stretch it tight that way!’ He shook his fist at the workman leaning precariously out of a window high up in one of the towers.
Although he was obviously quite young, the scholar Bevier escorted into Ehlana’s presence was almost totally bald. He was very nervous, but his eyes had that burning glaze to them that announced him to be a fanatic. He prostrated himself before Ehlana’s thronelike chair and banged his forehead on the floor.
‘Don’t do that, man,’ Ulath rumbled at him. ‘It offends the queen. Besides, you’ll crack the floor tiles.’
The scholar scrambled to his feet, his eyes fearful.
‘This is Emuda,’ Bevier introduced him. ‘He’s the scholar I told you about – the one with the interesting theory about Scarpa of Arjuna.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Ehlana said in Tamul. ‘Welcome, Master Emuda. Sir Bevier has spoken highly of you.’ Actually, Bevier had not, but a queen is allowed to take certain liberties with the truth.
Emuda gave her a fawning sort of look. Sparhawk moved in quickly to cut off a lengthy, rambling preamble. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong about this, Master Emuda,’ he said, ‘but our understanding of your theory is that you think that Scarpa’s behind all these disturbances in Tamuli.’
‘That’s a slight over-simplification, Sir –?’ Emuda looked inquiringly at the tall Pandion Knight.
‘Sparhawk,’ Ulath supplied.
Emuda’s face went white, and he began to tremble violently.
‘I’m a simple sort of man, neighbour,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘Please don’t confuse me with complications. What sort of evidence do you have that lays everything at Scarpa’s door?’
‘It’s quite involved, Sir Sparhawk,’ Emuda apologised.
‘Un-involve it. Summarise, man. I’m busy.’
Emuda swallowed very hard. ‘Well, uh –’ he faltered. ‘We know – that is, we’re fairly certain – that Scarpa was the first of the spokesmen for these so-called “heroes from the past”.’
‘Why do you say “so-called”, Master Emuda?’ Tynian asked him. Sir Tynian still had his right arm in a sling.