House of Lust (28 page)

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Authors: Tony Roberts

Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Epic, #Sword & Sorcery

BOOK: House of Lust
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“Then it is a fair assumption.  You have a spy network in the streets of this city, Captain.  Use it – find out where my wife is, and devise a plan to return her to me.  If you fail, your resignation will be expected on my desk.”

“Sire, if I fail then I won’t bother returning.”  He saluted and left, his fists clenched. 
Amne!
  His heart pounded – if he failed, then Amne would be dead, just like the unfortunate Captain Telekan.  If Amne died…… he felt sick.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

The entry of Emperor Astiras into Kornith was greeted with an enthusiasm that surprised everyone in his party, the emperor included.  As it was late summer there were an abundance of flowers and many of these were thrown by the delighted populace onto the arriving men.

Astiras glanced at Landec, riding alongside him.  “Nice to see such loyalty, isn’t it?”

Landec grinned and nodded.  “I wish everywhere was like this, sire.”

Astiras agreed and waved to the people thronging the stone-paved road that led into the town.  They passed under the gatehouse and noted how the houses that lined the street were bedecked with bunting of paper, flowers and greenery.  Kornith had not seen an emperor for a long, long time.  Astiras was as much a figure of fascination, and gangs of children ran through the crowds, trying to keep up alongside the big, armoured figure with a gold crown on his head.

The stone castle, an old, ancient construction, loomed above him.  There was a dirt surfaced square before the arched entrance, and off to the sides were the garrison quarters and a stables, opposite one another.  They all dismounted and climbed the series of wide steps to the long ledge that the castle entrance was stood upon.

Astiras turned to face the many faces looking at him.  “You have made your emperor very welcome this day,” he said loudly.  “I have long wished to visit your region and know that here I can feel loved by my people.”

The throng smiled.  The assembled dignitaries by the entrance relaxed; they had wondered what both the people’s reaction and the emperor’s attitude would be.  Everything seemed well.

Astiras waved again to the crowd.  “I shall enjoy my time in Kornith and rest assured my heart shall swell each time anyone speaks to me of Pelponia and its people.”

A great cheer rose, and the emperor turned and faced the line of people who ran the town.  The tall, pock-marked figure of Captain Anthes strode forward, bowed low, and announced himself.

“Well met, Captain, it is time I came here to see everything for myself.  Please introduce me to your Court.”

Anthes stepped to one side to reveal the people there.  “My senior militia commander, Denoth.”  Denoth was a squat, wide man with a ruddy complexion.  He bowed very low.  Astiras acknowledged him with a curt nod.  Anthes gestured to a slight figure in black.  “Senior Cleric Taboz.”

“Ah yes, Vazil.  We have met before, Captain,” Astiras smiled.  “Good to see you again, Cleric Taboz.”

“Your majesty,” Vazil bowed solemnly.

Anthes stepped across the priest’s line of vision and indicated a swarthy, curly-haired man with a pot belly.  “Our inventor and engineer, Geril Pash, from Talia.”

“Ah, yes, I have heard of you, engineer.  I must speak with you of your inventions further.”

Pash bowed.

“Lastly, my Senior Scribe Lokar Hamlis.”  Hamlis was a large nosed, gangly figure with a shock of unruly white hair.  He leaned at the waist and almost bent double.  Astiras acknowledged him and nodded towards Landec.  “My aide, Landec.  The others need to be housed and their animals stabled.  While that is happening, lead me inside; I wish to see my quarters.”

Anthes signalled to one of the stablehands to lead the equines to their stalls, then led Astiras and Landec into the building through a wide arched entryway.  The hall beyond was big, arched exits leading to passages or doorways, and a wide stone staircase led up to the next floor.  Guards were evident and flags and weapons hung in profusion from the walls.

Astiras nodded with satisfaction.  If the rest of the place was as good, then this would please him immensely.

The formalities took a while and Astiras was grateful finally to excuse himself to his room through tiredness.  Two servants showed him round his quarters, set on the second floor of the keep, a suite of three rooms, spacious and warm.  The main room faced north, so that the sun shone brightly through the windows when they were unshuttered.

After his boots were unfastened and pulled off, Astiras dismissed the two servants.  He had little use for them at the moment, although they would be back to change his clothing for the evening’s reception meal.  He yawned and stretched.  A knock came on the door and he gave permission for entry.  Landec stuck his head in.  “Sire, the priest is here to speak with you.”

“Let him in,” the emperor said.  “Oh, and you can listen in, too.”

Moments later Vazil stood before the emperor, Landec alongside the priest.

“Well, Vazil, how are you finding your duties here?”

Vazil glanced at Landec warily.  Astiras chuckled.  “Ah yes, I see your dilemma.  Landec, what you are about to see and hear, you tell nobody, understand?  If you babble to anyone, I’ll feed your genitals to the carrion avians.”

Landec swallowed.  “You have my word, sire.”

Astiras settled back in his chair.  “Very well, Landec, this is my spy here in Kornith.”

The bodyguard looked at the slight figure with renewed interest.  “Indeed, sire?  A priest as a spy – good move.”

“That’s not all.”  Astiras was enjoying the moment.  “Perhaps you can tell Landec of your other secret?  He will need to know as you will need more than just me to pass on messages while I am here.  I may well be engaged with other duties.  Landec will be the perfect contact.”

Vazil looked at Landec for a moment, then nodded.  “My identity is not as you may think,” now her voice softened.  She threw back her cowl, unfastened her clerical garment and allowed it to slide to the floor.  Underneath she wore a simple shift but there were unmistakably breasts being bound beneath.  She smiled at the shocked bodyguard.

“A – A woman!” Landec spluttered.  “A woman priest?”

“Oh relax – she’s not even a priest,” Astiras waved a careless hand.  “She’s gone through no Temple or ordination.  I can appoint anyone I see fit given the opportunity.  Can you think of a better disguise?”

Landec eyed the slight swellings underneath her shift.  “Ah, no, sire.  My congratulations, ma’am.”

Vasila giggled and rotated her head slowly, massaging the muscles.  “Oh, it’s such a relief to be a woman again – if only for a short while.”

Astiras grinned.  “I can imagine.  So, Vasila, what can you tell me of the situation here in Kornith and Pelponia before I get the managed careful rubbish from Anthes?”

“Pelponia is very loyal to you, sire, and to the Koros.  They are fiercely Kastanian, simple, uncomplicated people.  They’re not stupid; they just don’t have the complex disadvantages of a city’s politics.”

Astiras chuckled.  “Very well put, young lady.  No hidden agendas, no false smiles and stated loyalties.”

“Indeed, sire.  As to Kornith, you’re alright with Captain Anthes.  He had no ambitions of his own.  He sees his post as being very important and takes great pride in what he does.  He hasn’t got there on merit, it’s just that he’s outlasted everyone else and was on hand to deal with the pro-Fokis rebellion when you took power.  Nobody else had come along to challenge him and since Kastan City seem to approve of what he does, that’s as good as divine authority.  Oh yes, these people are very loyal to the gods.”

She pursed her lips.  “The inventor is an odd character.  Talian, but an imperialist.  His family were loyal to Kastania when the empire ruled his lands a few decades ago.  He’s got the typical fierce patriotism of a convert.”

“Any dissent?  Any rebels?”

“None, sire, that I know of.  The countryside as you can see is as good as a fortress, and there’re only two places any invasion can come.  From Parsot to the north, or along the road you arrived by.  Oh, I suppose by sea as well to the west, but that’s it.  Don’t find imagination here, just obstinate loyalty.”

“What of this project to make javelin throwers?  The engineer-inventor’s machine?”

Vasila shrugged.  “He says it’s ready, and was waiting for you to arrive to demonstrate it.  Tomorrow they’re going to lay on a special show for you.”

“Oh I can hardly wait.  Well, thank you.  I suppose you’d better get back into your disguise.”

Vasila sighed.  Then she looked at Landec.  “Landec, are you married?”

The bodyguard started, then shook his head.  “No, ma’am.  Why?”

Vasila smiled at him.  “I’ve not been with a man for a long time and I’m aching to change that.  You’re a handsome, virile, big man.”  She turned to the emperor.  “With your permission, sire?”

Astiras doubled over.  He nodded, waving at the two with one hand, too convulsed with laughter to speak.

Landec looked wildly at him, then her.  “But – but...”

“You find me ugly?” she challenged him.

“Uh, no, ma’am, but – I’ve hardly met you!”

“Oh well, you can get to know me better in your room.”  She hastily slipped her garb back on.  “Lead me to it, and don’t waste any time.  If we’re going to work together, I want to be able to trust you entirely.”

He allowed her to precede him, then looked once at the red-faced emperor who waved him out, before following.  “The things I do for Kastania,” he muttered to himself.

The next day Astiras and his officers were standing outside the walls of Kornith, along with Captain Anthes and Vazil/Vasila.  Astiras had realised the disguised priest had been right in her assessment of the Pelponians; although staunchly loyal to him and the empire, they were unimaginative, hidebound and absolutely devoted to the gods.  He found it difficult to patiently listen to the ponderous delivery of their speech, and wondered how in Kastan Vazil had managed to keep her sanity these last couple of years.  No wonder she had pounced on Landec.  Landec himself appeared to have suffered no ill effects of his evening, and in fact had something of a smug expression which Astiras had warned him about.

Vazil was inscrutable beneath her cowl, once more slipping into the serious persona of the main priest of Kornith.  The emperor thought that more than one of the townsfolk walked in fear of the black-garbed cleric.

In the field beyond stood Geril Pash and a small team of men fussing over a wooden contraption that had been built painstakingly over the winter.  It was the length of two men with a pair of wheels close to the front.  At the rear was a large ring and below the wooden body at the very end an adjustable screw.  At the front was affixed what looked like a giant bow with a string, lying flat across the body, tied or affixed to the machine.  There was a slot that ran from the very front, underneath the bow and ended more than halfway down where a wooden block stood.

The string of the bow was taut at this point, the apex being fixed to this wooden block, and the block’s rear had another ring in it, a smaller one, which had a second string fixed to it.  This string vanished into the body of the machine and on either side of this there was a wooden spoked wheel, which two of the men had rotated a few moments ago to wind the block and thus the string back to the shooting point.

A hook had then been lowered on a long lever fixed to the main body to keep the block in its place, the bow string taut and quivering.

“We are ready now, sire,” Captain Anthes turned to the emperor.  “On your command to loose, the machine will shoot the missile.  Observe,” he pointed to the far end of the field where a series of bales of hay had been stacked and in front of that were straw-filled dummies of soldiers, holding sticks, poles and rusted weaponry.  “The target.”

“What of the range?” Landec asked.

“Ah, the screw underneath the rear is adjusted up or down to reduce or increase the range of the shot.  The engineer will explain fully, I know little of this mysterious device.”

Astiras shrugged.  “Well, let’s see what this thing can do.  Any addition to my armies will be welcome.”

Vazil stirred.  “The machine needs the blessing of the gods,” she said solemnly.  “On such an auspicious occasion, the gods need to give their consent.”

Astiras looked sharply at the spy/priest.  “Very well, priest, go do your service in the name of our gods.  We need to strike back at the heretics.”

Vazil bowed briefly, then slipped underneath the rope demarking the boundary of the field and strode through the ankle-high rough uncut grass, her robes billowing irregularly as the wind blew and died.  The engineer and his team backed away respectfully and Astiras once again caught a glimpse of piety and fear in their eyes.

Vazil stood by the machine and rose her hands to the sky.  “O gods of the heavens, bless this device that has been made by your faithful servants, so that it may be used against your sworn enemies.  Bring it life, bring it a purpose, guide its missiles to their targets.  We ask you this, your humble servants, so that your glory may be returned to lands that once worshipped you.”  She placed her hands on the smooth wood of the body, and she had to admit that it had been beautifully crafted.  Such devotion, such work, all poured into a weapon of death and destruction.  She smiled to herself.

Seemingly finished, she straightened and nodded to the engineer and walked back to the waiting dignitaries.  Astiras held up the rope for her, and as she passed beneath it, he bent to whisper in her ear.  “Nicely done.”

Vazil looked up at him and, seeing that her face was concealed from everyone else, winked at him.  Then she stood and resumed her sober appearance.

Astiras raised his arm.  Immediately the engineer Geril stepped up to the lever and curled his hands around the handle.  He drew in a deep breath.  May the gods look kindly on him, or else he would be out of a job by nightfall.

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