The Redemption of Althalus (66 page)

“Where can we find building stone?” someone in the crowd asked.

Twengor looked out over the city. “I can see all sorts of building stone from right here: houses, shops, warehouses, that sort of thing. You may all be living in tents when this is over, but you’ll still be alive. That’s the best offer I can make. Now, let’s get cracking.”

“Good speech,” Khalor noted.

“I’ve always had this way with words,” Twengor replied modestly.

———

“You’ve
got
to see this, Master Althalus!” Gher was chortling from the window when Althalus, Khalor, and Eliar returned to the tower. “That Argan fellow’s trying to sneak into the fort to get to Smeugor and what’s-his-name. His face is probably going to fall off when he finds out that they aren’t really there.”

“How did things go at Poma?” Andine asked.

“Twengor was moderately offensive, little lady,” Khalor replied. “But he managed to get the point across. The citizens are all practicing a new trade now. They aren’t very
good
stonemasons, but they’re enthusiastic about it.”

“Will the walls hold?”

“Not a chance.” Khalor snorted. “I snitched some of Salkan’s shepherds from Dreigon and Gebhel, so Twengor’s got slingers as well as his own archers. What he’s really doing in Poma is opening up avenues to give those boys clear shots at the enemy after they get inside the city. He’s giving himself fighting room, and there won’t be much left of Poma when he’s done.”

Althalus and Gher were looking out at the hilltop fort where Smeugor and Tauri were supposedly hiding. “Where’s Argan?” Althalus asked. “I don’t seem to be able to see him.”

“He’s hiding in that clump of bushes on the west side,” Gher replied. “He sneaks real good. He’s waiting for it to get dark before he goes inside to tell Smeugor and what’s-his-name to stop setting fire to those wheat fields. He won’t find them in there, of course, but he
will
find the note Eliar and I put there.”

“Note?”

“Didn’t Eliar tell you about it? I thought he was going to take care of that.”

“It must have slipped his mind. Why don’t
you
tell me about it, Gher?”

“Well, we were talking about Smeugor and what’s-his-name the other day. I was asking Eliar why those two Generals didn’t just go ahead and kill their Chiefs, since they really don’t like them. Eliar explained that if they did that, it’d start an awful fight. Arums seem to have a lot of funny ideas about that sort of thing, don’t they?”

“Arums have a lot of funny ideas, Gher. Why don’t you tell me about the note?”

“Oh. Right. Anyway, I got to thinking about how we told Smeugor and what’s-his-name that Ghend was real mad at them for setting all those fires, and a whole bunch of stuff sort of clicked together. If we fixed it so that Ghend
believed
some wild story about Smeugor and what’s-his-name, then he really
would
want to kill them, and if
Ghend
kills them instead of the Generals doing it, there wouldn’t be any fights among the Arums. They’d be mad at Ghend instead. Does that make any sense at all?”

“The note, Gher,” Althalus said firmly. “Tell me about the note. Stick to the point.”

“I was only trying to explain why we did it, Master Althalus,” Gher said defensively. “Anyway, that Argan fellow sneaks so good that he
is
going to get inside the fort, no matter how many guards there are, so Eliar and I put together a note that’s
supposed
to have been wrote down by Sergeant Khalor. Eliar put it down on paper, since I don’t write too good yet. We had to do it about four or five times to make sure we got it just right. The note tells Smeugor and what’s-his-name to keep on pretending that they’re still working for Ghend and to blame their Generals for all the fires that’re burning up Ghend’s food. Then it tells them to weasel Ghend’s war plan out of some of Ghend’s other sneaky people and to pass it on so that we’ll know what they’re going to do before they do it. Then Eliar and I put in some stuff about how much gold we’re going to pay those two. Then we fluffed it up by saying that our side’s
really
worried about the war and stuff like that, and we finished it up by saying some
real
nasty things about Emmy’s brother. Do you think it might work, Master Althalus?”

“If it confuses Ghend as much as it just confused
me,
it probably will.”

“Oh, I left something out; I got a little rattled when you kept wanting to know about the note.”

“I’ll bite out my tongue,” Althalus told the boy. “What was this thing you left out?”

“Well, after we win this war, there won’t be much point in keeping Smeugor and what’s-his-name here in the House, will there?”

“Probably not, no.”

“Eliar and I thought it might be kind of neat to just shove them through a door into someplace where Ghend can find them real quick. Ghend’s going to be mad because he just lost another war, so he’ll probably do some real mean things to those two while he’s killing them. That’ll pay them back for trying to swindle
us,
and since Ghend’s going to do the killing, the two Generals won’t get their hands dirty and there won’t be no fights in Arum. Doesn’t that all sort of fit together?”

“I don’t see any great big holes in it,” Althalus admitted.

“That was why I called you over here to the window to watch,” Gher said. “I wanted you to
see
that Argan fellow’s face fall off when he reads that note. And later on—if we’re not too busy—maybe we can watch
Ghend’s
face fall off when Argan shows
him
the note. Did I do good?”

“You did
real
good, Gher,” Althalus said, and then he burst out laughing.

Right after breakfast the next morning, Eliar, Althalus, and Sergeant Khalor went through the corridors of the House to the encampment of Chief Koleika Iron Jaw and took the big-chinned Clan Chief to the road leading to the city of Mawor.

“Great Gods!” the usually taciturn Koleika exclaimed. “Would you
look
at those walls!”

“Impressive,” Khalor agreed.

“It must have cost a
fortune
to build something like that!”

“As I understand it, Duke Nitral’s been studying architecture for most of his life,” Althalus told him. “He’s made special trips to Deika and Awes and various other cities just to make drawings of the public buildings and the outer walls. Mawor sits on the River Osthos, and it’s a very prosperous city. When Duke Nitral ascended the throne there, he decided to indulge his hobby. He’s determined to make Mawor the most splendid city in all of Treborea.”

“I’d say he’s getting close,” Iron Jaw said. “I’m glad we’re on his side. I’d hate to have to attack
that
place.”

“You won’t have to,” Khalor told him. “How long do you think you can hold Mawor?”

“With that river right beside the walls, there’ll always be plenty of water, and if there’s enough food in the storehouses, I can hold for ten years, at least.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t last
that
long,” Althalus said. “What’s more important than holding the city, though, is keeping the enemy from just giving up and moving on to Osthos.”

“Once they’ve engaged here, I can
keep
them here,” Koleika asserted, his lower jaw jutting out even more. “This place is a perfect trap. I’ll let them approach and start the siege. If they try to back away, though, I’ll
ruin
them. They’ll have to keep their entire army right here, because the minute they try to withdraw, I’ll come out of that fortress like the wrath of God and tromp them into mud puddles all over this plain. They
won’t
get past me, Althalus. I can guarantee that.”

“I think that might just be the longest speech I’ve ever heard you make, Chief Koleika,” Khalor noted.

“Sorry,” Koleika apologized shortly. “I guess I got a little carried away. Those walls
really
impressed me.”

“Let’s go on into the city,” Althalus suggested. “We’ll introduce you to Duke Nitral, and then you two can get down to business.”

Duke Nitral was not in his palace when they arrived there, however. “His Grace is down by the river,” one of the palace guards advised them. “He’s supervising some construction. I think it’s got something to do with the docks.”

“Now, that’s unusual,” Khalor noted. “Most noblemen don’t get involved in that sort of thing.”

The guard laughed. “You don’t know our Duke,” he said. “When he really gets excited about one of his projects, he’ll peel off his coat and start laying bricks right alongside the common stonemasons. I’m told that he’s at least as good at it as most of the men who do it for a living. He ruins a lot of very expensive clothes that way, but he doesn’t seem to care.”

“Now,
this
is a man I want to meet,” Koleika said. “If he’s willing to get his own hands dirty, that means that he’s an artist.
That’s
why those walls are so beautiful.”

They went down to the riverside gate, passed out through it, and found a wide, paved sort of highway under the looming wall. Piers jutted out into the river, and hordes of workmen were busily erecting vaults over the piers.

“Nitral?” a foreman replied when Khalor told him that they were looking for the Duke. “He’s at the upper pier. The crew up there’s having trouble seating the pilings.”

When Althalus and his friends reached the northern pier, they found the crew anxiously looking down into the muddy water.

Then a man Althalus recognized as Nitral came bursting to the surface with a great splash, gasping for air. “We’ve hit bedrock down there,” he told the men on the pier. “We’ll have to drill, I’m afraid. We
have
to seat those footings.”

“There are some strangers here who want to talk with you, my Lord,” one of the workmen called down to the man in the water.

“Tell them I’m busy.”

“Ah . . . they’re right here, my Lord.”

Koleika, however, was already pulling off his clothes. “Watch yourself,” he called to the Duke. “I’m coming in.” Then he made a long, smooth dive off the pier and disappeared under the surface of the river.

It seemed to Althalus that Koleika was down forever, and he realized that he was holding his own breath.

Then Iron Jaw burst to the surface about twenty feet out from the pier. “You can set in your footings out here, your Grace,” he said when he’d caught his breath. “There’s a three-foot crevice in the bedrock right below me.”

Duke Nitral was treading water near the pier. “Mark that place!” he shouted up to his workmen.

“Yes, my Lord,” the foreman of the crew shouted back.

Iron Jaw swam back to the pier. “I gather these vaults are designed to protect supply ships while they’re unloading?” he asked the mostly submerged Duke of Mawor.

“Exactly,” Nitral replied. “I’ve got a friend over on the other side of the river, and he’s going to buy wheat from the Perquaines and ship it across to me once Mawor’s under siege. I don’t want any enemy ships disrupting my bread supply. You seem to know quite a bit about constructing fortifications, my friend.”

“I can build them if I have to,” Koleika replied. “My job’s a lot easier, though, if they’re already in place. My name’s Koleika, and I’ve been hired to give your enemies a good trouncing.”

“I’m delighted to meet you, Chief Koleika,” Duke Nitral said, extending his hand.

“Could we hold off on shaking hands, your Grace?” Koleika said. “I’m not really a very good swimmer, and my hands are kind of busy right now. Have we more or less finished?”

“I think we’ve just about covered everything,” Nitral replied.

“Why don’t we get out of the water, then? This river’s very cold, and I’m
freezing
down here.”

C H A P T E R     T H I R T Y - T H R E E

I
t had to do with the shape of her arm, Althalus decided as he studied Dweia, who sat pensively at the table with one hand idly resting on the Book. There was an almost infinite perfection in the subtly rounded contours of Dweia’s arms that made his knees go weak.

“You’re staring again, Althie,” she said, not even looking up.

“I know. I’ve got a permit, though. You’ve got very pretty arms, did you know that?”

“Yes.”

“The rest of you is pretty, too, but your arms always seem to catch my eye when I look at you.”

“I’m glad you enjoy them. Please think about something else, Althie. You’re distracting me. Call the children, pet. I need to talk with them. Oh, you might as well put Albron, Astarell, and Salkan to sleep for a while—just to be on the safe side.”

“Whatever you say, Em.” Althalus sent his thought out to touch the still-strange new group awareness.
Emmy wants to see us in the tower,
he silently announced.

“You’re shouting again, Althalus,” Dweia noted.

“I’m still not used to this, Em,” he explained. “Reaching out to the others isn’t exactly the same as it was when it was just you and me.”

“Ours goes just a bit deeper, love.”

“I’ve noticed that—and we can still talk privately, can’t we?”

“Naturally.”

“Why ‘naturally’? I thought that once somebody was in, he was in all the way.”

“Oh, good grief, no, Althalus. That particular link is very private. At this point,
nobody
can go that deep except you and me. I’d imagine there’ll be a couple of other private links before very long.”

“An Eliar-Andine link, and a Leitha-Bheid link?”

“Exactly. Don’t tell them, love. Let them discover it for themselves. I’m just a bit curious to find out how long it’s going to take them.”

“If that’s the way you want it, Em.” Then a sudden thought came to him. “What are we going to do about Salkan? Bheid’s spending a lot of time and effort trying to convert that boy, and I’m not sure it serves any purpose. I don’t think Salkan would make a good priest. He’s a little too independent, for one thing, and his opinion of the priesthood isn’t very high.”

“Let it go for right now, pet. Bheid’s going through a personal crisis.”

“Oh?”

“You and Eliar ripped him out of the traditional Black Robe priesthood, and he’s feeling guilty. I think his attempts to convert Salkan might be a form of expiation.”

“That went by just a little fast, Em.”

“Bheid feels that he’s abandoned his order and violated his vows. I think he might be trying to offer his order a replacement.”

“He’s trying to buy his way out of the priesthood with Salkan?”

“That’s a crude way to put it, but it comes fairly close. Just leave them alone, Althalus. Bheid’s not hurting Salkan, and right now he’s dealing with a private problem. The time’s not too far off when Bheid’s going to have to have his head on straight, and if preaching to Salkan’s all it’ll take, let him preach. Now, encourage Albron, Astarell, and Salkan to take a little nap. You and I and the children have work to do.”

“I’ve been meaning to talk with you about something, Dweia,” Andine said when they’d all gathered in the tower. “Couldn’t we stay in my palace in Osthos instead of here in the House? I really should be there—just in case Dhakan needs me if an emergency turns up.”

“If anything happens, I’ll know about it, Andine,” Dweia assured her. “There are reasons for us to be
here
instead of in your palace. There aren’t any spies here, for one thing.”

“If you’d just let Leitha tell me who those spies are, I could clean them out, you know.”

“
That’s
one of the things we’re going to talk about right now,” Dweia told her. The Goddess looked around at them. “You’ve all been coming up with assorted schemes in the past few days,” she said. “Some of the schemes are quite clever, and some are just a little silly, but that’s beside the point. I want you all to understand right here and now that you will
not
set any of those schemes in motion until
after
Gelta enters the palace in Osthos.” She looked quite sternly at Bheid. “Are you listening, Brother Bheid?”

“Of course, Divinity,” he said quickly.

“Then call off your assassins.”

Althalus looked at the young priest with a certain astonishment. “Just what have you been up to, Bheid?” he asked curiously.

Bheid flushed slightly. “I’m really not supposed to talk about it, Althalus,” he said.

“You have my permission to reveal it, Brother Bheid,” Dweia told him in a flat, unfriendly voice.

Bheid winced. “Well,” he said in an uncomfortable tone, “Church politics sometimes get a little murky, and occasionally—not too often, you understand—somebody gets out of line and makes himself sort of inconvenient. There are legal procedures to deal with those people, but sometimes public trials and the like might embarrass members of the hierarchy. The Church has an alternative of last resort to fall back on in those situations.”

“Hired killers, I gather,” Althalus said.

“That’s an awkward sort of description, Althalus,” Bheid objected.

“Who are you planning to have murdered?”

“I wish you wouldn’t use that particular word, Althalus,” Bheid said uncomfortably.

“It’s a technical term that we professionals use. Give, Brother Bheid. Who’s your target?”

“Aryo Pelghat of Kanthon. As long as he remains on the throne of Kanthon, there’ll be turmoil in Treborea, and Ghend thrives on turmoil.”

“What a wonderful idea!” Andine exclaimed.

“Let’s establish some rules right here and now,” Dweia said sternly. “No murders, no armies out of nowhere, no rounding up of spies, and no mutinies among the Arum clans until
after
Gelta enters Andine’s throne room in Osthos. You will do
nothing
to interfere with that dream vision. If any one of you slaps me across the face with a paradox, I’ll be very cross with you.”

“If those dream things are
that
important, why don’t we make up some of our own?” Gher asked.

She gave him a slightly amused look. “Why do you think we’re all here, Gher?” she asked him.

“Well, isn’t it because Master Althalus hunted us all down and
made
us come here?”

“And why did he do that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe
you
made him do it.”

“Why would he take orders from me?”

“
Everybody
takes orders from
you,
Emmy.”

“Why?”

“We
have
to. I don’t know exactly why, but we just have to.”

“Exactly. Daeva’s dream visions are very blatant. Mine are far more subtle. It doesn’t really take very much to alter reality, Gher. Sometimes something as simple as a word can change things enormously. It already has, as a matter of fact.” She looked at Andine. “What word did you read on the Knife, dear?” she asked.

“ ‘Obey,’ ” Andine replied.

“And what’s going to happen to Gelta after you obey her when she tells you to kneel down before her?”

“She’ll end up in my dungeon.”

“Any more questions, Gher?” Dweia asked the boy.

He grinned at her. “Not a one, Emmy,” he replied. “I think I’ve got it all straight now.”

“That’s nice,” she said fondly.

The invasion from Kanthon had quite literally stopped cold until long strings of supply wagons began streaming south with food for the starving army. Gelun and Wendan stopped burning fields at that point and began ambushing the supply columns instead. Enough of the wagons evaded the ambushes to feed the invaders minimally, however, so the advance on the city of Kadon resumed, and Kadon was soon encircled.

Both Eliar and Sergeant Khalor grew increasingly grouchy as the invaders closed on Kadon.

“You two
could
take turns, you know,” Leitha suggested. “You
both
don’t have to stay awake day and night.”

“She’s right, Eliar,” Khalor said. “Why don’t you go get some sleep?” Khalor was looking down at Kadon from the window.

“Why don’t
you,
my Sergeant?” Eliar replied. “All they’re doing right now is setting up their encampments and bringing in their siege engines.”

“You’ll wake me immediately if anything unusual happens?”

“I’ve stood watch fairly often, Sergeant,” Eliar told him, “so I have a pretty good idea what I’m supposed to do.”

“I
am
a little tired,” Khalor admitted.

“Then go to bed.”

“Yes,
sir,
” Khalor replied with a faint smile.

“Taking care of my superior’s health is part of my job, Sergeant.”

“Don’t push it.” Khalor yawned.

“Sweet dreams, Sergeant,” Leitha told him.

“I think I’d rather not dream at all, under these circumstances,” he said, going to the head of the stairs. “The notion of having Gelta climb into bed with me makes my blood run cold, for some reason.” He yawned again and went down the stairs.

“I
really
want to see if it worked, Eliar,” Gher was saying. “It shouldn’t really take all
that
long.”

“I’m sorry, Gher,” Eliar told him, “but my Sergeant would skin me alive if I deserted my post.”

“What are you two bickering about now?” Dweia asked them.

“Gher wants me to leave my post so that we can follow Argan,” Eliar replied.

“It’s sort of important, Emmy,” Gher told her. “We left that letter from Sergeant Khalor in the fort where Smeugor and what’s-his-name are supposed to be hiding. Shouldn’t we find out if the letter really works the way we want it to?”

“He’s got a point there, Em,” Althalus said. “If the letter persuades Ghend that Smeugor and Tauri have changed sides again, then
he’ll
take care of them, and Gelun and Wendan won’t have to. Mutiny during a war isn’t really a good idea. There are blood relationships involved in the Arum clans, and if a few second cousins start coming down with family loyalties and the like, those two clans might stop fighting the invaders and start fighting amongst themselves. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“The window
has
to stay right where it is,” Eliar insisted stubbornly.

Dweia sighed. “Men,” she said to Leitha.

“Discouraging, isn’t it?” the pale blond girl replied. Then she smiled offensively at Althalus. “I see three other windows here in the tower, Daddy,” she said in a patronizing tone. “Hadn’t you noticed them?”

“Make her stop that, Dweia,” Althalus pleaded.

“You
did
catch her point, though, didn’t you?”

“Can you really
do
that?”

“Of course. Didn’t you know that?”

“Sometimes Daddy doesn’t pay very close attention,” Leitha observed.

“I’m starting to get just a little tired of that ‘Daddy’ business, Leitha,” Althalus scolded her.

“Oh,” Leitha said mockingly, “what a shame.”

“Moving right along here—” Dweia cut off Althalus’ retort. “—why don’t we leave Eliar at his post and go watch Ghend’s face fall off?” Then she led the rest of them to the north window.

“I don’t think I recognize that place,” Bheid noted, staring through the window at a night-shrouded encampment. “Just exactly where is it, Dweia?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” she replied. “I was concentrating on Ghend, not any specific location, so the window went directly to Ghend without getting tangled up in geography.”

“What a neat window!” Gher exclaimed.

“I’m rather fond of it,” Dweia agreed.

“Isn’t that Argan?” Leitha said, pointing at a lone horseman approaching the encampment.

“Probably,” Dweia replied.

“Is it only a coincidence that we started watching just as Argan reached that place down there?” Andine asked.

“No, not really,” Dweia said. “What we’re seeing actually happened two days ago.” She smiled faintly. “I’ve had a lot of practice with that procedure. It’s a much more interesting way to study history than plodding through some dusty old book.”

Argan galloped his exhausted horse into the center of the encampment, reined in, and swung down. “Take me to Ghend immediately!” he snapped at one of the black-armored soldiers Dweia had identified as Nekweros.

“Yes, your Worship!” the soldier replied in a hollow-sounding voice.

Ghend, however, had just emerged from the garishly colored central pavilion. “Where have you been?” he demanded harshly of Argan.

“I was looking for Smeugor and Tauri,” Argan replied. “Isn’t that what you told me to do?”

“Did you pass my orders on to them?”

“Would have, old boy, but I couldn’t seem to find them. As it turned out, they’re not in that fort.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I searched the place from top to bottom, mighty leader, and there wasn’t a sign of them—except for this.” Argan held out a sheet of paper.

“What’s that?” Ghend asked.

“Read it,” Argan suggested. “It sort of speaks for itself, I’d say.”

Ghend took the paper over to a sputtering torch and read “Sergeant Khalor’s” letter. “Impossible!” he burst out.

“Point your finger at Koman, old boy,” Argan said a bit smugly. “He’s the one who missed it, not me.”

“Those two imbeciles aren’t clever enough to have deceived Koman!” Ghend insisted.

“They might have had help, Ghend,” Argan said very seriously. “Koman isn’t the
only
mind leech in the world, you know. The witch-woman from Kweron has blocked him out before, if I remember correctly.”

“I’ll make them pay for this!” Ghend fumed.

“You’ll have to find them first, I think. They
definitely
aren’t inside that fort. You might want to start looking down rat holes, but that might take quite a while. I’d imagine that staying out of your reach is their main goal in life right now. They took your money and then turned around and took money from this Khalor person to turn on you. They’ve swindled you out of quite a bit of gold, Ghend. They smiled and nodded, and then they quite nearly starved your entire army to death. They know how you’ll feel about that, I’d imagine, so they won’t be easy to find.”