Domes of Fire (46 page)

‘Please take my word for it, your Majesty,’ Zalasta said to the sceptical Sarabian. ‘It was most definitely
not
a normal phenomenon.’

‘You’re the expert, Zalasta,’ Sarabian said dubiously. ‘My instincts all tell me to look for a natural explanation first, though – a cloud passing in front of the sun, perhaps.’

‘It’s evening, Sarabian,’ Ehlana pointed out. ‘The sun’s already gone down.’

‘That
would
sort of weaken that particular explanation, wouldn’t it? You’ve all seen this before then?’

‘Most of us, your Majesty,’ Oscagne assured him. ‘I even saw it once myself – on shipboard – and there was nothing between me and the sun. I think we’ll have to accept the testimony of our Elene friends here. They’ve had experiences with this particular manifestation before.’

‘Stupid,’ Sparhawk muttered.

‘I beg your pardon?’ Sarabian said mildly.

‘Sorry, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk apologised. ‘I wasn’t referring to you, of course. It’s our visitor who’s not very intelligent. If you set out to spy on someone, you don’t announce your presence with drum-rolls and trumpet fanfares.’

‘He’s done it before, Sparhawk,’ Patriarch Emban reminded him. ‘He put in an appearance in Archimandrite Monsel’s study in Darsas, if you remember.’

‘Maybe he doesn’t know he’s doing it,’ Kalten suggested. ‘When he first went to work for Martel, Adus
used to try to sneak around and spy on people. That’s why Martel had to finally hire Krager.’

‘Who’s Adus?’ Sarabian asked.

‘A fellow we used to know, your Majesty,’ Kalten replied. ‘He wasn’t of much use as a spy. Everybody for a hundred yards in any direction knew when Adus was around. He didn’t believe in bathing, so he had a distinctive fragrance.’

‘Is that at all possible?’ Vanion asked Sephrenia. ‘Could Kalten have
actually
come up with the right answer?’

‘
Vanion!
’ Kalten objected.

‘Sorry, Kalten. That didn’t come out exactly the way I’d intended. Seriously though, Sephrenia, could our visitor be unaware of the shadow he’s casting?’

‘Anything’s possible, I suppose, dear one.’

‘A visual stink?’ Ulath suggested incredulously.

‘I don’t know if I’d use that exact term, but –’ Sephrenia looked at Zalasta. ‘Is it possible?’

‘It would explain the phenomenon,’ he replied after pondering the notion for a moment. ‘The Gods are remarkable – not only in the depth of their understanding, but also in their limitations. It could very well be that our visitor doesn’t know that we can smell him when he pays a call – if I may borrow Sir Ulath’s metaphor. He may actually believe that he’s totally invisible to us – that his spying is going unnoticed.’

Bevier was shaking his head. ‘We always talk about it right after it happens,’ he disagreed. ‘He’d have heard us, so he has to know that he’s giving himself away.’

‘Not necessarily, Bevier,’ Kalten disagreed. ‘Adus didn’t know that he smelled like a cesspool, and it’s not really the sort of thing one admits to oneself. Maybe this shadow’s the same sort of thing – a kind of socially unacceptable offensiveness, like bad breath or poor table-manners.’

‘There’s a fascinating idea,’ Patriarch Emban laughed. ‘We could extrapolate a complete book of divine etiquette from this one single incident.’

‘To what purpose, your Grace?’ Oscagne asked him.

‘The noblest of purposes, your Excellency – the greater understanding of God. Isn’t that why we’re here?’

‘I’m not sure that a dissertation on the table-manners of the Gods would significantly advance the sum of human knowledge, Emban,’ Vanion observed. ‘Might we prevail on your Majesty to smooth our way into the inner circles of your government?’

‘Smooth or rough, Lord Vanion,’ Sarabian grinned, ‘I’ll insert you into the ministries. After I’ve straightened Pondia Subat out, I’ll take on the other ministers – one by one or row by row. I think it’s time they all found out just exactly who’s in charge here.’ He suddenly laughed with delight. ‘I’m
so
glad you decided to stop by, Ehlana. You and your friends have made me realise that I’ve been sitting on absolute power for all these years, and that it’s never occurred to me to use it. I think it’s time to pull it out, dust it off and wave it around just a bit.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Oscagne said, his face suddenly filled with chagrin. ‘What have I done?’

‘We got this yere problem, Stragen,’ Caalador drawled in Elenic. ‘These yere yaller brothers o’ ourn ain’t tooken with th’ notion o’ steppin’ ‘cross no social boundaries.’

‘Please, Caalador,’ Stragen said, ‘spare me the folksy preamble. Get to the point.’

‘T’aint really natch’ral, Stragen.’

‘Do you mind?’

Stragen, Talen and Caalador were meeting in a cellar near the waterfront. It was mid-morning, and the local thieves were beginning to stir. ‘As you’ve already
discovered, the brotherhood here in Matherion’s afflicted with a caste system,’ Caalador continued. ‘The thieves’ guild doesn’t talk to the swindlers, and the beggar’s guild doesn’t talk to the whores – except in the line of business, of course – and the murderer’s guild is totally outcast.’

‘Now that there’s
real
on-natch-ral,’ Talen observed.

‘Don’t do that, Talen,’ Stragen told him. ‘One of you is bad enough. I couldn’t bear two. Why are the murderers so despised?’

‘Because they violate one of the basic precepts of Tamul culture,’ Caalador shrugged. ‘They’re paid assassins actually, and they don’t bow and scrape to their victims before they cut their throats. The concept of courtesy overwhelms Tamuls. They don’t really object to the notion of someone murdering noblemen for hire. It’s the rudeness of it all that upsets them.’ Caalador shook his head. ‘That’s one of the reasons so many Tamul thieves get caught and beheaded. It’s considered impolite to run away.’

‘Unbelievable,’ Talen murmured. ‘It’s worse than we thought, Stragen. If these people don’t talk to each other, we’ll never get any information out of them.’

‘I think I warned you not to expect too much here in Matherion, my friends,’ Caalador reminded them.

‘Are the rest of the guilds afraid of the murderers?’ Stragen asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ Caalador replied.

‘We’ll start from there then. What’s the general feeling about the emperor?’

‘Awe, generally, and a level of adoration that hovers right on the verge of outright worship.’

‘Good. Get in touch with the murderers’ guild. When Talen brings you the word, have the cutthroats round up the heads of the other guilds and bring them to the palace.’

‘What are we a-fixin’ t’ do here, m’ friend?’

‘I’ll speak with the emperor and see if I can persuade him to make a speech to our brothers,’ Stragen shrugged.

‘Have you lost your mind?’

‘Of course not. Tamuls are completely controlled by custom, and one of those customs is that the emperor can suspend customs.’

‘Were you able to follow that?’ Caalador asked Talen.

‘I think he lost me on that sharp turn right there at the end.’

‘Let’s see if I’ve got this straight,’ Caalador said to the blond Thalesian. ‘You’re going to violate every known propriety of the criminal culture here in Matherion by having the murderers kidnap the leaders of the other guilds.’

‘Yes,’ Stragen admitted.

‘Then you’re going to have them all taken to the palace compound, where they’re absolutely forbidden to go.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you’re going to ask the emperor to make a speech to a group of people whose very existence he’s not even supposed to know about.’

‘That’s more or less what I had in mind.’

‘And the emperor’s going to command them to suspend aeons-old custom and tradition and start co-operating with each other?’

‘Is there some problem with that?’

‘No, not really. I just wanted to be sure I had it all down straight in my mind, that’s all.’

‘See to it, would you, old boy?’ Stragen asked. ‘I’d probably better go talk with the emperor.’

Sephrenia sighed. ‘You’re being childish, you know,’ she said.

Salla’s eyes bulged. ‘How
dare
you?’ he almost screamed. The Styric elder’s face had gone white.

‘You forget yourself, Elder Salla,’ Zalasta told the outraged man. ‘Councillor Sephrenia speaks for the Thousand. Will you defy them? And the Gods they represent?’

‘The Thousand are misguided!’ Salla blustered. ‘There can never be an accommodation between Styricum and the pig-eaters!’

‘That’s for the Thousand to decide,’ Zalasta told him in a flinty tone.

‘But look at what the Elene barbarians have done to us,’ Salla said, his voice choked with outrage.

‘You’ve lived out your whole life here in the Styric quarter in Matherion, Elder Salla,’ Zalasta said. ‘You’ve probably never even
seen
an Elene.’

‘I can read, Zalasta.’

‘I’m delighted to hear it. We’re not really here for discussion, however. The High Priestess of Aphrael is conveying the instruction of the Thousand. Like it or not, you’re compelled to obey.’

Salla’s eyes filled with tears. ‘They’ve murdered us!’ he choked.

‘You seem to be in remarkably good condition for a man who’s been murdered, Salla,’ Sephrenia told him. ‘Tell me, was it painful?’

‘You know what I mean, Priestess.’

‘Ah, yes,’ she said, ‘that tiresome Styric compulsion to expropriate pain. Someone on the far side of the world stabs a Styric, and you start to bleed. You sit here in Matherion in protected luxury feeling sorry for yourself and secretly consumed with a gnawing envy that you’re being denied martyrdom. Well, if you want to be a martyr so badly, Salla, I can arrange it for you.’ Sephrenia was coldly angry with this babbling fool. ‘The Thousand has made its decision,’ she said flatly. ‘I don’t
really have to explain it to you, but I will – so that you can convey the decision to your followers – and you
will
explain it, Salla. You’ll be very convincing about it, or I’ll replace you.’

‘I hold my position for life,’ he declared defiantly.

‘Precisely my point.’ Her tone was ominous.

He stared at her. ‘You wouldn’t!’ he gasped.

‘Try me.’ Sephrenia had wanted to say that to someone for years. She found it quite satisfying. ‘It goes like this, Salla – feel free to stop me if I start going too fast for you. The Elenes are savages who are looking for an excuse to kill every Styric they see. If we
don’t
assist them in this crisis, we’ll be handing them that excuse on a velvet cushion. We
will
assist them, because if we don’t, they’ll slaughter every Styric on the Eosian continent. We don’t want them to do that, do we?’

‘But –’

‘Salla, if you say “but” to me one more time, I’ll obliterate you.’ She was startled to discover just how enjoyable it was to behave like an Elene. ‘I’ve given you the instruction of the Thousand, and the Thousand speaks for the Gods. The matter is not open for discussion, so quit trying to snivel or wriggle your way out of this. You will obey, or you will die. Those are your options. Choose quickly. I’m in a bit of a hurry.’

Even Zalasta seemed shocked at that.

‘Your Goddess is cruel, councillor Sephrenia,’ Salla accused.

She hit him before she even thought about it, her hand and arm seeming to move all on their own. She had spent generations with the Pandion Knights, and she knew how to get her shoulder behind the blow. It was more than an ineffectual slap. She caught him solidly on the point of the chin with the heel of her hand, and he reeled back, his eyes glazed.

Sephrenia began to intone the words of the deadly
incantation, her hands moving quite openly in the accompanying gestures.

‘
I won’t do that, Sephrenia!
’ Aphrael’s voice rang sharply in her mind.

‘
I know,
’ Sephrenia threw back the thought. ‘
I’m just trying to get his attention, that’s all.
’

Salla gasped as he realised what she was doing. Then he screamed and fell to his knees, blubbering and begging for mercy.

‘Will you do as I have commanded you to do?’ she snapped.

‘Yes, Priestess! Yes! Please don’t kill me!’

‘I have suspended the spell, but I have not cancelled it. I can finish it at any time. Your heart lies in my fist, Salla. Keep that firmly in mind the next time you feel an urge to insult my Goddess. Now get up and go do as you’re told. Come along, Zalasta. The smell of self-pity in here nauseates me.’

‘You’ve grown hard, Sephrenia,’ Zalasta accused when they were back out in the narrow streets of the Styric quarter.

‘I was bluffing, my old friend,’ she told him. ‘Aphrael would never have responded to the spell.’ She touched her forearm gingerly. ‘Do you happen to know where I might find a good physician, Zalasta? I think I’ve just sprained my wrist.’

‘Not very impressive, are they?’ Ulath suggested as he, Tynian and Kring walked back across the neatlytrimmed grounds of the imperial compound toward the Elene castle.

‘Truly,’ Kring agreed. ‘They seem to spend all their time thinking about parades.’ The three of them were returning from their meeting with the Imperial High Command. ‘They’re all show,’ the Domi concluded. ‘There’s no substance to them.’

‘Uniformed courtiers,’ Ulath dismissed the Tamul general staff.

‘I’ll agree,’ Tynian concurred. ‘The Atans are the real military force in Tamuli. Decisions are made by the government, and the general staff simply passes those decisions on to the Atan commanders. I began to have some doubts about the effectiveness of the imperial army when they told me that rank is hereditary. I wouldn’t want to rely on them in the event of an emergency.’

‘That’s God’s own truth, friend Tynian,’ Kring said. ‘Their cavalry general took me to the stables and showed me what they call horses here.’ He shuddered.

‘Bad?’ Ulath asked.

‘Worse than bad, friend Ulath. Their mounts wouldn’t even make good plough-horses. I wouldn’t have believed that horses could get that fat. Anything faster than a walk would kill the poor beasts.’

‘Are we agreed then?’ Tynian asked them. ‘The imperial army is totally useless?’

‘I think you’re flattering them, Tynian,’ Ulath replied.