The Dark Lord (36 page)

The old Roman did not respond. He did not even blink at the gibe.

"And Egypt?" Galen leaned forward, his fingers toying with the reed stylus.

"Prince Aurelian's defenses are being tested," Anastasia said, pursing her full lips. Today they were lightly brushed with a dark madder hue. The powders and paints around her eyes were very light, barely disguising puffy skin and incipient wrinkles. Indeed, her clothing was very restrained, even somber. Yet she had discarded the cloak of mourning and a subtle gleam of fine gold shone at her neck and adorned her hair. "The Persians have advanced across the desert of Sinai with great speed. A fleet—actually, two fleets—accompany them. One flotilla of galleys stands offshore at a distance, watching for our own ships. A large number of barges or large rafts are drawn up on the beaches."

"Supplies?" Gaius Julius spoke for the first time. "Water?"

"Yes." The Duchess nodded. "Prince Aurelian built his line of defense to deny an attacker access to fresh water. The swamps, bogs and streams in front of his fortifications have been drained. Yet, the Persians foresaw this—they are shipping barrels of water down from Gazzah on their barges. They will be thirsty, but they will not perish."

Galen nodded, smoothing his hair back. "Unfortunately, they are professionals. Have you found the army that fought at Constantinople?"

"No." Anastasia shrugged. "The telecast can only see one thing at a time. The world is vast. Since we know it does not face Alexandros in Thrace, and cannot have fit on their fleet, I believe the 'missing' army is crossing Anatolia overland, heading back to Persia." She looked at the Emperor, who seemed as displeased as ever. "We think, from what we see, the army before Pelusium is mostly composed of the rebellious Greeks, their Arab allies and new contingents from the east. I think—and this is only a conjecture, my lord—the Persians have emptied their treasury, hiring large numbers of Turks, Sogdians and Indians to supplement their forces."

"Have you informed Aurelian of this?" The reed tapped rapidly on the tabletop.

"We have," Anastasia said, smiling at the absurdity of the situation, "dispatched a courier from Ostia with all this news. With good winds, the ship will be in Pelusium port in three weeks, more likely four. What we see today, he will know in a month. Unless, of course, he learns at spearpoint..."

"Ahhh..." Galen snarled and the reed snapped in half in his fist. "Don't we have
any
faster way to send him this news?" The Emperor glared at Maxian. "Can a thaumaturge in Rome send a message to one in Pelusium, or Alexandria, today?"

"Yes..." Maxian smirked a little. "A fire-drake could carry the message swiftly!" The prince ducked as another stylus flipped past his head. "Peace, brother! Peace! I believe the Legion thaumaturges have a mechanism of their own, whereby two mages, each known to the other, with matching scrying bowls, can communicate."

"Like the telecast pairs?" Galen raised an eyebrow. "Could we
make
another telecast? Place one in Egypt with Aurelian? Speak with him as if he stood in this room?"

"That is impossible—" Anastasia began, teeth clenched.

"Wait," Maxian said, raising a hand to interrupt her. A faint smile played upon his lips. Anastasia was suddenly sure the prince had been waiting for this turn in the conversation. "There is something... Gaius, hand me my bag."

The old Roman grunted, lifting up a battered old leather bag still marked with the caduceus of the Asklepion. The prince dug around inside, rustling papers and bits of metal. Then, with a triumphant smile, he drew out a torn, frayed section of papyrus. Part of a diagram was sketched on the paper in faded ink. Anastasia felt a chill steal over her, seeing the delicate way the prince held the ancient page. The design seemed familiar to her.
Oh goddess, curse these men with forgetfulness, strike sight from their eyes...

"Yes," Maxian said smugly, smoothing out the papyrus. "Martina found this in a collection of broken, incomplete scrolls sent back to Rome during the time of the Divine Augustus. I've had her going through everything about the ancients we could find, trying to find some mention of that Persian sorcerer. Something useful, you know..." The prince set the scrap of paper on the tabletop, squinting down at lines of ancient symbols. "This caught her eye, the design, the wheels within wheels. It's old Egyptian, almost unreadable, just the part of a page included in another scroll written by one of the notorious Kleopatra's secretaries."

Maxian looked up, grinning, and the exhaustion in his face was gone, swept away by a merry sparkle in his eyes. "But I know a trick." He pressed his palms together over the papyrus, closing his eyes. Then he opened his hands slowly, palm to palm. Wind tugged at Anastasia's hair and a cloud of dust hissed together over the tabletop. Sighing, dust and dirt, even one of the apple cores, leapt between the prince's hands. There was a soft flash and when Anastasia blinked tears away, the sheet of papyrus lay on the tabletop, crisp and new, complete, shining with black ink.

"There," Maxian said, lifting the roll by the corners. Perfectly clear in the center of the paper was an intricate drawing of a device, wheels within wheels, with gears and arcing sections. The Duchess felt very cold, looking upon a well-drawn picture of a telecast. She held her breath, wondering what disastrous secrets were written on the reborn page.

"'In Nemathapi's name,'" the prince read, slowly, puzzling out the hieroglyphs. He squinted, though the symbols were very clear. "'I, Menes, scribe of the—must be
kingdom
—write these words. Here I have drawn a—um—picture.'" Maxian paused, leaning back. For a moment, watching him, Anastasia was struck by an impression the prince was listening to something. "'A picture of the king's guardian,'" Maxian began again, and now his voice was assured and the translation swift. "'Uraeus, the eye of Horus the Avenger. Even as the god was hewn into pieces by his enemy, so is the eye divided into seven parts.'"

Anastasia controlled herself, keeping from flinching or gasping aloud only by digging her nails into her palm. Surely there would be a line of sharp bruises in the morning. Fragmentary thoughts flashed wildly through her mind, then she quelled them all. Without moving her head, she marked the places of each man in the room.
I could kill Galen,
she realized with a sick, helpless feeling.
But Gaius is already dead and Maxian beyond my power to harm. Then the Praetorians would rush in and my life spill out on the tile.

Oblivious, Maxian continued reading. "'By the king's command, one eye has been sent to Abydos in the south, that his wisdom may oversee all lands under his sway. The other remains here, in Memphis, where all wisdom flows from the king and god and defender, Kha'sekhem, lord of the upper lands and the lower, protector of the earth.'"

The Duchess allowed herself to breathe.
Thank you, goddess! Only two!

The prince laid down the papyrus, his head cocked to one side. "Hmm..."

"Too bad," Galen said, finding another stylus and turning back to his ledgers. "The other five are lost, then, and we have one, while the other was destroyed in Constantinople."

"No..." Maxian turned the papyrus over, looking at the design from another angle. "This diagram does not depict our telecast, nor, if memory serves, does it describe its lost companion. See—" His finger traced a line of spiky symbols on one of the outer rings of the device. "These are quite different." Maxian raised an eyebrow, smiling at his brother.

"Where did Emperor Heraclius find his? Where did we find ours?" Galen scowled at Anastasia, who blinked at him in surprise, then marshaled herself. Luckily, Helena had once told her—though the Emperor should have remembered for himself.
But he is tired and there are many other, far more pressing concerns to distract him, thank the fates!

"Builders excavating a new foundation for the temple of Zeus Skyfather, in Pergamum, uncovered the device lost in Constantinople. Builders in... Spain, near the Pillars of Hercules, found the one we possess." Anastasia indicated the papyrus with an idle finger. "If the prince's memory serves, then there
was
at least one more, in the distant past."

"We can find it," Maxian stated, nodding to himself. "Even if the remains are broken or scattered."

"We can?" Gaius Julius said, raising a white eyebrow. "How?"

The prince grinned again. "I know another trick... I can make a talisman, an... echo of the telecast we have here. Someone can go to Egypt with my amulet. If they are close to the sister device, the talisman will guide them. Time-consuming, but Martina believes at least one telecast was in the hands of the Ptolemies. If so, then the device was probably moved to Alexandria."

Anastasia looked to the Emperor, eyebrow raised. "Lord and God, if the prince can make such a talisman, it will be on our fastest ship within hours... a cohort of Praetorians aboard, with reliable guides."

"A ship?" Maxian rose in his chair, looking at the Duchess as if she were a simpleton. "For another telecast, I will go myself! Pegasus will have me in Egypt in two days. A ship, indeed!"

The Duchess' jaw tightened as she bit down on intemperate words.
He is the prince, fool girl!

"Maxian, are you ready to fight the dark man?" Galen was watching them both, fist to his mouth, eyes narrowed. "If you go to Egypt on your steed of iron, he cannot help but know you are there."

"How?" Maxian turned on his brother, almost sneering. "We fly by night, we keep to the desert... the Persian army is trapped before Pelusium. They will not be able to interfere. He cannot fly over them!"

"Duchess," the Emperor said, watching Maxian with a cold expression. "Explain the situation in Egypt to my brother."

Anastasia bit the inside of her lip, tasted blood, then smiled formally. "Caesar Maxian, our situation in Egypt is precarious. The province has only recently come into Western hands. There is friction between the civil government—still Eastern—and our army. Caesar Aurelian's attention is wholly focused on holding the Persians out, and—to be blunt—there are factions within Egypt who would welcome Persian rule in the place of Rome. Also, these Greek rebels out of the Decapolis have many friends behind Aurelian's barrier. The cities of Petra and Palmyra had—
have
—enormous trading concerns in Egypt, substantial investments, agents in every port and town."

"She means," Gaius Julius said, leaning towards the prince, "once you enter Egypt, you will be noticed. The cities, the towns, are thick with Persian informants and sympathizers."

"We will not
enter
the cities," Maxian said, exasperated. "The ancient ruins are avoided by living men—and the telecast will be in a ruin, not the forum of Heliopolis! Gales, please, I can be to Egypt and back in a week, two at the most. I will find the telecast and deliver it to Aurelian. Think of the advantage we'll have then!" He turned to the Duchess, face eager. "Another eye to watch the enemy! We'll be able to converse instantly... if need be, I can mate the two as I did before, letting Aurelian step back across the Mare Internum as if he were in his apartments on the Palatine!"

Anastasia felt her face warm, her skin prickle, her heart race. The prince smiled, urging her to agree. Flustered, she closed her eyes, blocking out his limpid brown stare. "Wait," she said, raising a hand. She put the tips of her fingers to her forehead. A sense of vertigo ebbed and she felt her heart slow from a sprint to a walk.

Breathe,
a voice echoed out of the past.
Center yourself, focus yourself. You are one, indivisible, infinite...
The Hunter's prayer filled her mind and she felt the strange sensation fade away. She opened her eyes, studiously looking only to the Emperor. Galen raised an eyebrow.

"Lord and God, what the prince says is true," the Duchess said, measuring her words. "His iron servant is swift and can carry him across many leagues. His powers are great and finding the telecast in Egypt—if one still exists—may be easy for him. But Egypt is vast and there are many ruins. I fear this search will take time, perhaps little, perhaps much."

"And in that time?" Galen met her eyes, shaking his head minutely.

"In that time, Lord and God, the Persians discover the prince is in Egypt. They may even discover we possess a flying machine."

"So?" Maxian interjected, irritation plain in his voice. "What if they do?"

"Then, Caesar, they will try and capture or kill you." Anastasia did not meet the prince's gaze. "But you are very strong. I doubt they will be able to succeed."

The prince made a sharp
huh!
sound and looked to his brother again. "Gales?"

"You are not going," the Emperor said, giving Maxian a quelling look. "I do not think you are ready to fight this creature again, not one on one. When that day comes, I want every advantage to be in our hand. We must know this thing's name, its strength, its motive. We will fight on ground of our choosing and we will win."

"Madness—" Maxian stood up abruptly, though Gaius Julius made a faint-hearted effort to catch his arm. "Then send your ship—which will take weeks to reach Egypt—and have your legionaries grub in the dirt—more weeks will pass—and then, then you find the device and who can make it work? I can! And I will be here, in Rome, cooling my heels in the baths or at the races!"

"We have weeks," Galen said, expression hardening as the prince's voice grew more strident. "We have months. Armies—Persian or Roman—do not leap leagues in a day. Aurelian will hold Egypt until the Nile rises, and then where will the Persians be? Unable to advance for months more, while they wait for the river to fall. By then we will know where the main Persian army is, and how things stand in Thrace and Constantinople. These troubles in Britain will be resolved. Our new fleet will be gathered, the Gothic Legion ready to move by sea wherever we need. You..." Galen stabbed a finger at his brother, "will have finished your fire-drakes and if the gods favor us, we will know the intention and true strength of the enemy."

Maxian's eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, fists on the tabletop. "What happens if the Persian sorcerer comes against Aurelian now, today, with full force? Will you hold me back then?"