Reave the Just and Other Tales (45 page)

Therefore I performed what I considered the most difficult action of my life. I swallowed my fear.

“Sher Abener,” I began awkwardly, “pardon my discourtesy. I find myself disconcerted by your manor.” I did not add, And by your person.

“That is its intent.” His manner was grave, but also ominous. “I find that disconcertion inspires truthfulness in those who approach me.”

His response suggested a criticism which irked me. My own manner stiffened.

“Then I will be truthful, Sher. As you surmise, I come with tidings which will be as unpleasant for you to hear as for me to relate. Recently you honored my merchantry with several small requests. I regret that I will be unable to satisfy them.”

At this my host arose from his stool. I had not previously marked that he was so tall—for some reason, I had thought him shorter. Now, however, he appeared to impend over me. And the grim displeasure in his gaze only served to augment his stature.

“Sher Urmeny,” he pronounced with fatal care, “that is not acceptable. I am precluded from obtaining in person the items I have requested. Therefore you must obtain them for me.”

My heart quailed within me. I was inclined to accept his view of the circumstance. He was precluded. Therefore I must. His looming darkness conveyed conviction.

With some difficulty, I replied, “I am saddened on your behalf. I have no wish to distress or inconvenience you. However, I have encountered a difficulty I cannot surmount.” I sought to phrase my dilemma delicately. “It appears that the objects and potencies you desire disturb those who serve my merchantry. They decline—” I shrugged to communicate my discomfort.

“That does not concern
me,
” the necromancer retorted. “The unhappiness of your slaves and lackeys signifies nothing.”

Despite the difficulties of my situation, I found that I was shocked. My host’s comportment ill suited the good grace which characterized transactions in Benedic, and on which I had long relied. Yet his manner was not less incondite than the disdain it expressed. From the reports and gossip of my caravaneers, I was naturally aware that in some lands beyond the demesne of our Thal human flesh was considered a commodity, to be bought and sold for profit or sport. I had thought as little on the notion as possible, however. It afflicted me with queasiness, like the taste of tainted meat.

I may have attained a moment of indignation as I answered, “There is the difficulty, Sher. They are not ‘slaves and lackeys.’ They are men such as yourself—”

“Surely not,” Sher Abener interposed blackly.

“—citizens of Benedic,” I insisted, “and if they do not choose to do a thing, they cannot be compelled to it. We are a civilized people, Sher. We do not possess each other, either men or women.”

Much to my chagrin, I saw a yellow light, which I took to be tongues of flame, lick at the corners of the necromancer’s eyes. His ire verged on conflagration. In haste, I added, “Since I cannot satisfy you, I offer recompense. I cannot obtain that which you desire—but I can obtain much. And the cost does not concern me, since I consider that you have been ill-used. Name other wishes, Sher Abener, and I will endeavor to ensure that you are not again disappointed.”

Thus I strove to appease him. He could hardly complain of me now. He might well enjoy his own displeasure—at that moment, he appeared dire enough to revel in any perversity—but he would not be able to accuse me of defalcation.

At first, his mouth twisted on the taste of bitter ruminations. The hint of flame in his gaze did not abate. He regarded me as he might have scrutinized a noxious rodent. Then, however, he nodded at the outcome of his thoughts.

“Very well, Urmeny.” His neglect of my honorific suggested scorn. “You say that you do not possess men or women. That inconveniences me. In time, I will see the lack amended in this land of fops and sycophants. But for the present, a few ‘slaves and lackeys’ will suffice to deflect my wrath from your foolish head. Deliver to me half a dozen, three male, three female—adult, but young—and I will forget that I have been ill-used.”

To my dismay, he shocked me further. In an instant, I saw my vaporous hopes for his acquiescence dissipate.

“Have I understood you, Sher Abener?” My own voice had become an unseemly croak, but I could not master it. “You wish me to procure
slaves?
You mean to practice that custom
here?
”

A sneer curled his lip. “You will find it salutary. It will teach you to spend your days otherwise than on trifles.”

Trifles? Had the fitted stone of the floor shifted beneath my feet, I would not have felt more distress. How otherwise should a man conduct his life, except as I did?

“Sher—” I cast about me for some refuge, but none was apparent. “The Thal will not permit it. He will be outraged. In his demesne, such practices are shunned. Indeed, his own wives and consorts—” I faltered to silence under the bale of my host’s burning censure.

“You are mistaken,” he snorted. “Your ‘Thal’ will propose no objection. He has learned already that it does not profit him to thwart me.”

Now indeed the plain stone failed to provide an adequate foundation. I was quite unable to doubt the necromancer’s word. The suggestion of flame in his gaze, hinting at destruction like a blaze glimpsed within the windows of a villa, convinced me entirely. I did not believe that Sher Abener would err at any point which touched upon his arts.

“Then, Sher—” With an effort which wracked me, I swallowed at the dry dread clogging my throat. “Sher Abener,
I
am outraged. The purchase and sale of men or women is not a transaction I am inclined to countenance. You presume too far upon my goodwill.” In desperation more than daring, I concluded, “Perhaps if you were sold and purchased yourself you would consider the matter in another light.”

At this rebuff, my host spread his hands. Disdain sharpened his bitter mouth. From his eyes, the impression of fire began to gather and spill as though it were tears.

“If you imagine that you have the strength,” he sneered, “I invite you to make the attempt.”

Off his cheeks and beard, slow flame ran to his chest. He opened wide his jaws, and fluid fire bubbled in his gullet to drain past his teeth. Across his shoulders it spread in consuming runnels, and thence along his arms to his hands. There it pooled and blazed, mounting higher as it fed.

Flinching, I recoiled involuntarily. Though I stood five paces from him, his heat seemed to scorch my features, and I feared for my beard and brows. Around me, the chamber appeared to contract as darkness gathered against the light.

In the voice of a furnace, Sher Abener roared, “Begone from my sight! Obey me!
Satisfy
me! If you do not, I will render the marrow from your bones, and drink it while you
die!
”

Raging, he raised his arms to fling fierce shafts of conflagration at my defenseless head.

Until that moment, I had not considered myself a coward. My valor had never been tested. Therefore I had no cause to doubt it. In that instant, however, all illusion fell from me. My folly and weakness became plain. I had no substance of any kind—no wealth, no position, and no courage—which might enable me to stand against a man whose eyes and mouth and hands held flames of ire. Forgetting the dignity and comportment which but a short time ago I had foolishly deemed inherent to my station, I fled for my soul.

Unable to think, for my mind held only fear, I ran headlong through the unadorned chambers toward the manor’s vestibule. Yet I did not flee unaccompanied. Shouts which issued from no human throat harried me on my way, as if the very stones uttered their master’s displeasure.

“Obey!” the walls commanded with the lost urgency of ghouls. “Satisfy!” And the floors and ceilings echoed, “You must!”

Fortuitously, the manor doors remained open, as did the portal gates. Had I found them closed, I might have lost my wits altogether. Heedless of how I might be regarded by the passersby beyond the walls, I ran in frenzy and despair until my lungs could no longer support my exertions. And still I seemed to hear the wailing of Sher Abener’s rooms, although they were now some way behind me.

“Obey! Satisfy!”

If you do not, the necromancer repeated amid the labor of my pulse and the straining of my chest, I will render the marrow from your bones—

Nevertheless by degrees the avenues embraced by locusts moderated my trepidation. Eventually, the sun’s gracious light drew away a portion of my distress. The open porticoes on either hand appeared to invite me back to men and transactions and courtesies which were within my compass. Remembering the safety which had swaddled all my days, I amended somewhat the indignity of my haste.

Before I gained the sanctuary of my villa, I attempted to apply a measure of reason to my plight.

Here, under the benison of a warm breeze, I might have found it congenial to dismiss the dire necromancer’s requirements and threats. But his confidence in our Thal’s acquiescence to his cruel designs raised an uncomfortable echo within me. Privately, I had always considered the Thal a weak ruler—too quick to profit when he could, and too quick to retreat when he could not. More than the well-being of his citizens, he coveted the bliss of augmenting his riches. Thus I could all too easily imagine that Sher Abener had offered some rich accommodation which would inspire our lord to turn his back toward the blot of necromancy upon his demesne. The Thal was rather like myself in that regard. Trusting Tep Longeur’s honesty, I had never previously troubled myself over the nature of my merchantry’s transactions.

Now, however, I understood clearly that I could not recall my refusal to fulfill Sher Abener’s demands. My overseer would never countenance the acquisition of slaves. And nor could I.

Therefore it was plain that I must contrive some means to defend myself.

This I determined to accomplish with little delay, once I had regained the familiar solace of my villa. My gates I would seal—although I did not expect such an obstacle to hamper my enemy. More to the point, I meant to procure assistance from my friends, associates, and neighbors, several of whom maintained in their employ theurgists of no small repute. The wards, glamours, and periapts of theurgy might secure my person. And my cohort of guards I might strengthen greatly by enlisting Tep Longeur’s righteous caravaneers. If necessary, I could pay large sums for such aid—and begrudge not one saludi of the expense. Beyond all question, I could not stand against the necromancer without help.

Fear gave my resolve all the vigor it required. Despite the discomfort of speed, I advanced briskly.

Yet my resolve was folly—as much an action of fancy and moonshine as the prescient alarms which had frighted me upon first entering Sher Abener’s manor. Despite our encounter, I still failed to grasp how entirely the necromancer surpassed me. For when I reached my villa, I found the ornamented welcome of the gates barred and guarded to refuse me.

Though the home I cherished was now in plain view, I could not reach it. Men whom I had known for years obstructed my way with pikes clutched in their sweating hands. Strange fears glistened whitely from their eyes. Though I ordered them to admit me—though I called loudly for succor—though I entreated them with curses—they only tightened their ward against me.

I might have screamed at them in the open street, as much in frustration as in apprehension, but before I was reduced to that indignity I saw Tep Longeur approaching the gates. He was the overseer of my merchantry—more completely in command of it than I had ever been—and his courage as well as his rectitude were unshakable. Truth to tell, the wealth I had harvested so negligently since my father’s passing derived from his judgment, determination, and integrity, not from any virtue of mine. He would retrieve me from the incomprehensible terror of my guards. He would know how to defend me from Sher Abener.

When he drew near, however, he did not order the gates unbarred.

I have said that his features were sun-toughened and hardy, that his beard was trimmed as straight as his ledgers, that his gaze was quick to anger. All these things I had trusted to compensate for lacks in myself. But never had I seen his eyes burn with such fanaticism and disgust as they did now.

Without preamble, he informed me, “Urmeny, you must flee.” The harshness of his voice appeared to strain his throat, although he spoke softly. “Benedic is done with you. Your life won’t be tolerated. I can’t hold back your death beyond the next hour.”

I gaped at him. “Tep—” He appalled me to such an extent that I could scarcely form words. “What is this? Admit me. Admit me at once. I must enter or die. Sher Abener means to destroy me.” My voice broke. Pointing urgently past his shoulder, I cried,
“That is my villa!”

My overseer confronted me, unmoved. “The Sher won’t destroy you if you flee. It’s your merchantry he means to take.”

Was this the man who had served me, and my father before me, with such fidelity for so many years? I could not credit my ears—or master my dismay. “Have you lost your wits?” I protested. “Are you drunk? Tep Longeur, I command your obedience. It is my right. You are not yourself.” Clenching the bars of the gates, I pressed my appeal as near to him as I could. “Sher Abener wishes us to procure slaves for him.
Slaves,
Tep! He means to introduce that vile practice
here.
”

Though I had little acquaintance with such extremes, I saw madness in Tep’s stare. Bitterly, he answered, “So it will be. He’s already taken me. He’ll take as many as are required to produce the outcome he intends.

“Do you think I
choose
to serve a master such as him?” Whips of fury and loathing flayed in the overseer’s tone. “
I,
who refused to acquire his foul mechanisms and serums for him? I would prefer death by my own hand. As he well knows. But he cares nothing for my choices or desires. I’m only allowed to let you flee.”

Foundering as though I were a swamped coracle, I strove to counter, “The Thal—”

Tep Longeur spat at my feet. “If you appeal to the Thal, you’ll be laughed away. If you attempt to approach any of your friends, I must bind you and deliver you to the Sher.” The mad glaring of his gaze hinted at Sher Abener’s fire. “No theurgy in Benedic can preserve you. No force of arms will rise to your aid. The Sher was driven from many lands before he came among us, but he’s drawn profit from those defeats. He’s grown wise in the uses of power. He wouldn’t have declared himself to you if he hadn’t first secured his grasp upon this demesne.”