The Hidden City (37 page)

‘What's happened?' Ehlana asked anxiously.

‘One of my associates – Cyzada of Esos – just arrived from Cynesga,' Zalasta replied calmly. ‘He brought us some news that we probably should have expected. Your husband's a devious man, Ehlana. We thought that we had him, but he managed to wriggle free.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘We left him instructions when we abducted you. He was supposed to take his squire and set out on horseback for the town of Beresa in southern Arjuna. We had people watching, and he
seemed
to be obeying. He was
not
, however. Evidently he's not as fond of you as we'd thought he was.'

‘He was simply following my orders, Zalasta. I told him that under no circumstances was he to give up the Bhelliom.'

‘How did you manage that?' Zalasta seemed actually startled.

‘Your lunatic son here told Elron to kill Baroness Melidere. Elron's a hopeless incompetent, so Melidere was able to deflect his sword-thrust. I have some remarkable people working for me, Zalasta. Melidere was able to play dead very convincingly. I feigned hysteria and managed to whisper instructions to her while I covered her with a blanket.' She gave him a rather malicious sidelong glance. ‘Your mind must be slipping, Zalasta. You didn't even notice that I no longer had my ring. I left
that
with Melidere as well.'

‘Very resourceful, Ehlana,' he murmured. ‘You and your husband are stimulating opponents.'

‘I'm so glad you approve. How did Sparhawk trick you?'

‘We're not entirely sure. We had people watching him from the moment he left the imperial compound in Matherion, and he followed our orders to the letter. We even diverted him a couple of times to prevent any tricks. Then Klæl escaped again and went looking for Bhelliom. The man we
thought
was Sparhawk was on a ship crossing the Sea of Arjun with his squire, Khalad. Klæl took one look and instantly knew that the man who
appeared
to be your husband was
not
Anakha. That's the news that Cyzada just brought to us.'

She smiled almost beatifically at him. ‘And so now Sparhawk's out there somewhere – with Bhelliom in his fist and murder in his heart – and you haven't the faintest idea of where he might be, and quite probably not even what he looks like. You've got a big problem, Zalasta.'

‘You're very quick, your Majesty. You think even faster than my colleagues.'

‘That isn't very difficult. You're surrounded with defectives. Which particular stroke of my genius is it that you admire?'

He smiled faintly. ‘I rather like you, Ehlana,' he told
her. ‘You have spirit. My assorted defectives haven't yet fully grasped the implications of your husband's ploy. If he's somehow managed to make someone resemble him, he's surely able to alter his own features as well.'

‘He does it all the time, Zalasta. He had a great deal of experience with disguises when he was in Rendor. It's all falling apart on you, isn't it? I'd suggest that you start running immediately.'

‘I'll be leaving shortly, right enough, but
you'll
be going with me. Tell your maid to start making preparations for a journey.'

‘What are you saying?' Scarpa scrambled to his feet. ‘She
can't
leave here!' he shrieked. ‘We're going to make the exchange here!'

‘You imbecile,' Zalasta sneered. ‘You didn't
really
think I was going to let you go through with that, did you? I never had any intention of letting you get within five miles of Bhelliom.'

Scarpa gaped at him.

‘It was a misguided attempt to save your life, idiot. Bhelliom would have destroyed you in the instant that you touched it.'

‘Not if I had the rings. They would have protected me.' Scarpa's eyes were wild again.

‘The rings are a fraud,' Zalasta sneered. ‘They have no power over Bhelliom whatsoever.'

‘You're lying!'

‘You desperately want to believe that, don't you, Scarpa? You thought that all you had to do to gain control of the most powerful force in the universe was to put on a pair of rings. Ghwerig the Troll-Dwarf made the rings at Bhelliom's instruction. They were designed to deceive a
Troll
into thinking he had some power over the jewel.
Bhelliom
induced Ghwerig to make the rings, and then it tricked Aphrael into stealing them. Everyone's attention was so fixed on the rings that we didn't
even bother trying to steal Bhelliom from the royal crown of Thalesia.'

Scarpa suddenly sneered. ‘You just out smarted yourself, old man. If Bhelliom's so deadly, how is it that the kings of Thalesia could touch it and not die?'

‘Because Bhelliom's
alive,
you dolt. It has an awareness. It kills only those it
wants
to kill – and that would certainly include you. You're my son, and even I want to kill you most of the time. You had some deranged, half-formed notion that you could just pick up Bhelliom and start giving it commands, didn't you?'

Scarpa flushed guiltily.

‘Can't you get it through your sick head that only a God – or Anakha – can safely take up Bhelliom and start giving it orders? I realized that over a century ago. Why do you think I made an alliance with Azash – or with Cyrgon? Did you think I was having religious yearnings?' He smiled a cruel smile. ‘Did you really think Bhelliom would have made you a match for me, Scarpa? You were going to put on the rings, snatch up the Bhelliom, and order it to kill me, weren't you? I almost wish the situation were different. I'd have loved to see the expression on your face as Bhelliom slowly turned you to stone.' Zalasta straightened. ‘Enough of this,' he said. He went to the door. ‘Come in here,' he barked, ‘all of you.'

The men who entered were fearful and hesitant as they sidled through the door. Krager appeared to have been frightened to the point that he was sober, and Elron was actually cringing. The third man was a stringy-looking Styric with a long beard, shaggy eyebrows, and sunken, burning eyes.

‘All right, gentlemen,' Zalasta said, ‘this new development calls for a change of plans. My son and I have discussed the matter, and he's evidently decided that he wants to go on living, because he's agreed to follow
my instructions. I'm going to take the Queen and her maid to a safe place. Natayos is no longer secure. Sparhawk could literally be anywhere. For all I know, he's already here. I want you three to stay here with Scarpa. Keep sending those letters of instruction to this counterfeit Sparhawk. Don't let our enemies know that we're on to them. Give me a couple of days and then send instructions to Panem-Dea. Tell them to prepare suitable quarters for two very important ladies. Then wait two more days and send a closed carriage down there. Security's an alien concept to those cretins at Panem-Dea, so word of your message will be all over southern Arjuna almost before your messenger arrives. Cyzada, I want
you
to keep a close watch over my deranged son here. If he doesn't follow my instructions to the letter, I want you to summon one of the servants of Azash from the nether world to kill him. Be creative, old boy. Pick the crudest and most hideous demon you can find. If Scarpa disobeys me again, I want him to take a long, long time to die, and I want them to be able to hear him screaming all the way from here to Matherion.'

Cyzada's dead eyes came alight with a sudden cruel anticipation. He fixed a ghastly smile on the now totally rational Scarpa. ‘I'll see to it, Zalasta,' he promised in a hollow voice. I know just the one to call on.'

Scarpa shrank back fearfully.

‘Where are you going to take the prisoners, Lord Zalasta?' Elron quavered. ‘Where can you be safe from that vengeful monster they call Anakha?'

‘You don't need to know that, Elron,' Zalasta replied. The Pandions have a reputation for severity when they interrogate prisoners. You won't be able to tell them what you don't know – even when they start to torture you.'

Torture?' Elron's eyes widened, and his voice came out in a terrified squeak.

‘This is the real world, Elron, not some romanticized day-dream. The posturing and play-acting are over now, but I'm sure we'll all be impressed by how heroically you endure the agonies they'll surely inflict on you when they catch you.'

Elron fell back in a near faint.

Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Danae of Elenia, sat pensively on an out-of-the-way window-seat on one of the upper floors of her mother's castle. The weather outside was unsettled, and a blustery wind skipped the dead leaves across the lawns below like scurrying brown mice. Danae absently stroked her purring cat as she considered options, alternatives, and possibilities.

Mirtai, grim, implacable, and wearing an Atan breastplate of polished steel and black leather, stood several yards down the corridor, her face set in an expression of sullen obedience and her hand on her sword-hilt.

‘You're still angry with me, aren't you?' Danae asked the golden giantess, not even bothering to turn around.

‘It's not my place to either approve or disapprove of my owner.' Mirtai was being stubborn about it.

‘Oh, stop that. Come here.'

Mirtai marched up the hall to where her capricious little owner was sitting. ‘Yes?'

‘I'm going to try again. Please listen to me this time.'

‘As your Majesty commands.'

‘That's getting very tiresome, you know. We love you, Mirtai.'

‘Is your Majesty speaking in the royal plural?'

‘You're starting to make me cross. I've got a name, and you know what it is. We all love you, and it would have broken our hearts if you'd decided to kill yourself. I spoke to you the way I did to bring you to your senses, you ninny.'

‘I know why you did it, Danae, but did you have to humiliate me in front of the others?'

‘I apologize.'

‘You can't do that. You're a queen, and queens
can't
apologize.'

‘I can if I want.' Danae paused. ‘So there,' she added.

Mirtai laughed and suddenly embraced the little girl. ‘You're never going to learn how to be a queen, Danae.'

‘Oh, I don't know. Being the queen just means that you get what you want. I do that all the time anyway. I don't need a crown or an army for something as simple as that.'

‘You're a very spoiled little girl, your Majesty.'

‘I know, and I love every minute of it.'

Then the Princess heard a faint, far-away murmur, a murmur that Mirtai could not, of course, even sense. ‘Why don't you go find Melidere?' she suggested. She sighed and rolled her eyes upward. ‘I'm sure she's looking for me anyway. It's probably time for another one of those girl lessons.'

‘She's giving you instruction in courtly manners and traditional courtesies, Danae,' Mirtai reproved her. ‘If you're going to be a queen, you'll need to know those things.'

‘I think it's silly, myself. Go on ahead, Mirtai. I'll be along in a minute.'

The giantess went off down the hall, and Princess Danae spoke very quietly. ‘What is it, Setras?' she asked her cousin.

‘You already know the courtesies, Aphrael,' her curly-haired cousin said, appearing suddenly beside her. ‘Why are you taking lessons?'

‘It gives Melidere something to occupy her mind and keeps her out of mischief. I spent a great deal of time and effort getting her and Stragen together. I don't want her to spoil it by getting bored and starting to look for outside entertainment.'

‘That's very important to you, isn't it?' Setras sounded
a little puzzled. ‘Why should the things they do to perpetuate themselves interest you at all?'

‘You probably wouldn't understand, Setras. You're too young.'

‘I'm as old as you are.'

‘Yes, but you don't pay any attention to what your worshippers are doing when they're alone together.'

‘I know what they're doing. It's ridiculous.'

‘They
seem to like it.'

‘Flowers are much more dignified about it,' he sniffed.

‘Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?'

‘Oh, I almost forgot. I have a message for you. There's an Alcione Knight – one of the ones who serve
me.
I think you know him. He's a moon-faced fellow named Tynian.'

‘Yes.'

‘He went back to Chyrellos to pick up some help, and it seems that he inadvertently chose every Pandion skilled enough to pass messages on to you and brought them all to this part of the world, so there wasn't anybody with the Church Knights to tell you what happened in Zemoch.'

‘Yes, I already know about that. Anakha's going to talk with Tynian about that. What happened in Zemoch?'

The Church Knights had an encounter with Klæl. A third of them were killed.'

Aphrael unleashed a blistering string of curses.

‘Aphrael!' he gasped. ‘You're not supposed to talk that way!'

‘Oh, go bury it, Setras! Why didn't you tell me about this as soon as you got here?'

‘I was curious about the other thing,' he confessed. ‘It's not as if they
all
got killed, Aphrael. There are still plenty of them left. In a little while there'll be as many as before. They're ferociously prolific.'

‘I love them
all,
you dolt! I don't want to lose any of them.'

‘You're greedy. That's one of your shortcomings, cousin. You can't keep
all
of them, you know.'

‘Don't make any wagers on that, Setras. I'm only just getting started.' She threw her hands in the air. ‘This is impossible! You don't even understand the message you're trying to give me. Where are the Church Knights now?'

‘They're coming across the steppes of Central Astel to invade Cynesga. They'll probably run into Klæl again when they get there. I hope they don't
all
get killed.'