Prince of Wrath (29 page)

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Wottek said tightly. His eyes were more on Clora, lusting openly at her. He had no subtlety. Clora smiled at him and briefly ran her tongue over her lips. Wottek drew his breath in sharply. His decision to betray Lombert Soul was justified in his mind. He’d have this woman back and make her remember why she was lucky again and again once Soul was out of the way.

“Yes. I want a report of the readiness of the army to advance on Niake. I want enough provisions and supplies gathered for them to last ten days in the field. I want us to be on the road no later than in seven days’ time. We are to march on Niake at that time and bring an end to this stalemate. I also want your report on how the undermining of Niake is going; is the leaf ready for distribution, and if so, when will it be handed to the populace? I want a small squad of enforcers sent in to make sure the citizens are forced into becoming addicts. They will only have to force each man or woman once; every time afterwards they’ll be willing takers.”

“Sir. My messenger is due back from Niake any time. Once he arrives I’ll bring the report to you.” His eyes strayed to Clora again who had pulled her dress top down to bare as much breast as she could. He began shaking with desire. Gods – he’d have to find a woman to vent his frustrations on.

Lombert nodded. “Ensure the army is armed and equipped properly; I don’t want a rag-tag motley selection of peasants. This is to be the beginning of a new Kastania and I want the people to be suitably impressed, you understand? I shall personally hold you responsible. Once we march out of here you shall be left in charge of the camp. When we have taken Niake I shall send for the rest of you to join us in the city. We do not want to hold onto an indefensible camp when we have an entire city to protect us from any move the Koros may try to make.”

“Sir,” Wottek nodded. “I shall get onto it at once.” He looked at Clora again who smiled at him, and he grimaced as if in pain and stamped out of the room. The door crashed shut.

“Idiot,” Lombert commented. “You should not encourage him so much, Martha,” he chided Clora. “He may not be able to listen fully to what I’m saying!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Clora said. “I was only trying to encourage him to do what you wanted.”

Lombert slapped the desk angrily. “My position is enough for him to be obedient, woman! I can get my men to obey me without anyone else’s help, you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry!”

Lombert growled and stood up, looking at Clora severely. “If I had the time I’d beat you for your impertinence but luckily for you I have duties to carry out. Now get my dinner; I’m hungry!”

Sannia tutted from the cage as Clora obediently trotted off to another cavern. Lombert whirled and strode up to her. “And what is it that bothers you, Koros whore?”

“You should treat her properly, not as if she’s a canine. She’s a real person.”

“I’ll treat her any way I like. And as for you, if you don’t shut up I’ll give you to that moron Wottek to rut all night. That would ruin Prince Jorqel’s pristine virgin, wouldn’t it?”

Sannia said nothing; she sat and regarded him with contempt from her cage. She could do little else and she was damned if she would show this evil and ugly man how frightened she was. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Lombert snorted. “Nothing to say – that’s no surprise. I’m only keeping you here unharmed while your betrothed is alive. Once I remove his head I’ll bring it to you and you can mourn your loss before I execute you. You’ll be of no worth to me once Jorqel Koros lies dead at my feet. You ought to spend your time praying to the gods that they keep him alive.” He pulled a face at her and moved off.

Wottek sought out Zonis. He was impatient to get his hands on the sensuous Clora again. It was dominating his thoughts these days and his judgement was clouded as a result. Zonis, having finished with the training session, was relaxing in his cave, trying not to think of the burning pain radiating from his lungs. He found he was getting shorter and shorter of breath and he always woke in the morning with blood on his lips. The relief from the pipe was only temporary and he found it best not to be too active. The spring sunshine shone on his face and he had his eyes shut, enjoying a brief moment of tranquillity.

Wottek shattered the moment, bellowing he wanted to talk to Zonis alone inside the cave. Kimel was waved out rudely and the trustee stood at a loss outside as Zonis slowly and painfully made his way deeper into the cave. Wottek’s two guards stood at the entrance, out of earshot. “Yes, what is it, Captain?” Zonis said slowly, softly.

“The army is due to move out in seven days or so and be in the field for ten. Lombert expects that Niake is to be taken by the end of that time and he’ll send for your niece to join him in the city. We must act before then!”

Zonis waved the red-faced man to silence. “Patience. The message has been delivered has it not? Then all we can do is wait for the army to be intercepted. Once news arrives of the battle you can take us to a place of your own choosing.”

“Us? Who’s us?”

“Do you think I’m staying here? Once Lombert is defeated and executed, this camp will fall. Nobody is going to stay here anyway. Those that are left will flee. What of me? I’m dying and have but a short time left. I shall be gone within the year. I wish to spend my last seasons at peace and with my niece; she is all I have left. Once I go, all she’ll have left is you.”

The captain considered that for a moment. “I like the sound of that – I’ll be the only one she has left. Very well, you can come too. But that Koros wench in the cage is to die. Lombert Soul has commanded it and its just about the only order he’s given I agree with.”

Zonis nodded. He’d already worked that one out; Sannia’s life was to end whatever the outcome of the battle. If Jorqel lost, then she had no value left. If Jorqel won, then the last act of spite from the defeated rebels was to kill the woman he was to marry. “And of the Duras?”

“Them? No doubt they’ll occupy Slenna. Once the Prince defeats Lombert then the Duras’ time is short. They have no support anymore; the peasants follow Lombert, not those rich fools.”

Zonis grunted. He could not only await developments; he was not the master of the play unfolding.

In Niake Evas Extonos’s hands shook as he read the message that had been brought to him by Demtro. The merchant-spy was stood before him, arms folded, a severe look on his face. The governor looked up. “This is appalling. What is to be done?”

“Act now! Somebody somewhere will know where they are hiding this stuff. You want your populace to be turned into mindless zombies? Somebody on the night watch has been bought by the Duras, clearly, for that’s the only time the leaf could have been smuggled in.”

“But the gates were locked!”

“It would have been thrown over the walls from outside,” Demtro said acidly, fixing Extonos with a gimlet-like look. “And only when their suborned man in the guard was on duty along that stretch of the walls. I’ve sent my man out into the backstreets to listen out for anyone offering the leaf without payment. That’s the first sign its ready. Arrest the known smugglers and suppliers now. It’ll buy us a few days while they replace them.”

“But we don’t know for sure….” The governor began.

Demtro slapped his hand down on the desk. “Either act now or I’ll have you arrested and thrown into prison. We’ll dispense with the charade that you’re in charge of Niake, shall we? You know I have the ear of the empress; one word from me and you’ll end your days in the mines of Turslenka.”

Evas paled. “What – if I have you locked up?” He looked at his guards, standing silently by the door.

Demtro raised his eyebrows, then regarded the two armed men. “An interesting thought; tell me,” he spoke to the guards, “how would you feel if you were asked to arrest me for trying to stop your families falling prey to an evil plot to turn them into mindless addicts? Would you continue to support a man who would do nothing to stop this, who instead would do all he could to prevent anyone thwarting this plan?”

The guards looked at one another. In the room standing by the window was Evas’ advisor, Kislan Prelek, an man who claimed he was an inventor. He was short, thin and possessed long fingers. Prelek now stirred into life. “I don’t think the Governor here meant what he said,” he said soothingly, “it was merely a hypothetical statement.”

“So shall we say, hypothetically,” Demtro sneered, “that the good Governor here calls his guards to arrest me. What – hypothetically – will happen?”

“I don’t think we need go into this,” Prelek attempted a smile.

Demtro dismissed the man. “Stay silent, fool. I’m addressing the Governor. Shall we, Governor, enact this – hypothetical – scenario? Shall we see whom your guards obey? A man who follows the wishes of the Koros and the people of this city, or the Governor who appears to bow to the wishes of the Duras and a plan to kill most of the population whom he is supposed to protect?”

Evas stared up at Demtro, sweating. Demtro loomed forward, his face jerking a finger’s width closer to the governor’s with each word. “What – are – you – going – to – do?” His nose was almost touching Evas’ by the time he’d finished.

Evas opened his mouth and tried to speak, but nothing came out. He swallowed and tried again. “F-f-find the D-D-Duras agents and ar-ar-arrest them.”

Demtro nodded, grimly acknowledging Evas’ capitulation. “You may yet retain your position in this chair, although the gods alone know why you deserve to.” He flicked his fingers at Prelek. “Get a scribe in here now.”

Prelek looked to Evas for confirmation, and the governor nodded weakly. As Prelek left, Evas looked up at the frowning man before him. “What if we don’t find anyone? What if we arrest the wrong people?”

“How can you possibly arrest the ‘wrong people’?” Demtro demanded. “Your men go to certain locations known to be possible sites to convert the leaf into the consumable version, and this needs quite some space, materials and vessels to hold it in! So you need a warehouse, not a house, as the smell gives it away, a place that can hold the boiling pots, water and fire needed, drying racks and so forth! Goodness, Governor, there can only be three or four places in Niake capable of hosting this sort of thing! When you do find it, anyone inside has got to be involved. Who are you expecting to find in there, the High Priest and Prince Jorqel? Don’t be so damned stupid!”

Evas turned red. The guards grinned, then adopted straight faces as Evas looked in their direction. “How do you know what’s involved in converting the leaf?”

Demtro rolled his eyes. “I’m a merchant; I have contacts. I have spies. I have had an education. The Tybar now have the leaf growing areas, so it can only come from their territory. They do not have the technical knowledge – yet – to process the leaf, but there are refugees from Amria who have fled to Kastania who do. We got hold of one of these people and – ah – interrogated him rather thoroughly yesterday. I had to find out. He talked quite readily after a while.”

“I bet he did,” Evas said gloomily. “You’re little better than a common criminal yourself. The High Priest is right when he says I should arrest you.”

“Try it, Governor. It’ll be summer soon. The mines of Turslenka are wonderful at that time of year. Sunny, warm, lovely outdoor job hacking the sulphur out of the hillsides. The lungs would love it.”

Evas wiped his face with a cloth. “Stop it! I know what I must do, so don’t keep on threatening me.”

Demtro grunted, folding his arms again. “Then stop being a fool and wasting time procrastinating or worrying about what one person out of ten thousand might say to object to something that benefits nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine. If one objects, tell them to shut up or if they don’t like it then bugger off and live somewhere else. You should work to improve the lot of the majority, not waste time on a tiny minority who have no other objective in their minds other than to further their own selfish ways that run contrary to the way we do things. They do not have to live here; send them to the Tybar lands if they think things are intolerable under Kastanian law.”

“You’re a ruthless bastard, Demtro.”

“Language, Governor,” Demtro grinned, happy now he’d browbeaten the vacillating man once more. “Just do what is right. Get your indolent militia off its collective backside and send them to all possible locations. You’ll find the guilty without any trouble. Write your orders so nobody can have any possible misunderstanding.”

Prelek returned with an elderly man holding a large book full of blank sheets of parchment. Evas dictated his orders, the scribe slowly but beautifully writing out the words, and the governor examined it once it had been done and, satisfied all was accurate, signed it and sealed it using the wax on his desk and the brass seal hanging from his belt. He passed it to Demtro wearily. “Does this suffice?”

The merchant read it carefully. “Yes. With this we can enter any premises we like and arrest anyone we feel.”

“Not ‘we’,” Prelek noted, “the militia.”

“Whatever,” Demtro shrugged. “Get it done now. We haven’t much time.”

Evas ordered Prelek to fetch the militia commander and dismissed the scribe. “I had best come along to oversee this operation.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t think of anything else,” Demtro said. “I feel so much safer now.”

“You know, Demtro, I’m surprised you’re not in the mines yourself. You are one of the most irritating, arrogant and smug people I’ve had the displeasure of ever meeting.”