The Shasht War (39 page)

"Is he sane?"

"I don't know."

"Let us see him."

"It makes me uneasy, my lord."

"Yes, but you have searched him thoroughly by now. He is only a man. I fear no man, not with Klek here and my own sword on my hip."

"This is magic, my lord. The First Finger says he remembers nothing. He feels well, he commends himself and his health to you, my lord. There are no visible marks on his body."

"What did he say, exactly?"

"What did he say, oh, many, many things, my lord. I could not remember them all. He babbled like a madman at times, but then he calmed and became perfectly normal."

Aeswiren's eyes tightened momentarily. He hated this evil magic and knew its source. He itched to bury his sword in the Old One before another day was gone.

"Bring him to me." Aeswiren looked around at the room. "Not here. Take him to the Library of Euphasian."

"Yes, my lord."

Chenko left them.

"What do you make of that?" Aeswiren asked Grimes.

"Magic, my lord. You mentioned the Old One. That must be the source."

"Aye, it must be. It is time to rid Shasht of this malign presence."

"Yes, my lord."

Aeswiren looked at Grimes for a moment. The response had been lacking ever so slightly in enthusiasm. A tiny thing, but in this situation Aeswiren knew he could afford no mistakes.

He moved to the Library of Euphasian, a long gallery of shelves and windows on a high floor of the east wing. It was one of the better libraries, established by Norgeeben's personal secretary, the learned Euphasian.

Hesh was brought in. As Chenko had said, Hesh appeared quite normal, from his flat-top, iron-grey hair through the flinty eyes and level mouth.

"My lord, forgive me." Hesh dropped to his knees and lowered his head.

"Hesh, please get up."

Hesh got to his feet, stood before Aeswiren.

Aeswiren searched in the man's eyes. "What the hell happened to you, Hesh?"

"I do not know, my lord. I was in my bed, asleep, and then I awoke in the gardens, under a linden tree."

"I do not like such mysteries."

"No, my lord. Nor do I."

"You were in bed and you remember nothing, not a single thing?"

"Nothing, my lord."

"This must have been magic of a most fell and powerful kind."

"Yes, my lord, my conclusion, too."

"Both of your guards were killed."

"Yes, my lord, I heard that. I grieve for them, they were good men."

Aeswiren paced up and down. He wished he could kick off his boots and walk barefoot on a nice Nisjani rug. It always soothed him to walk on a fine rug.

"This is the work of the Old One."

At the mention of the name, Hesh nodded, but his eyes widened momentarily. Grimes and Chenko, too, rose up on the balls of their feet. All three were aware that this was the gravest of the Secrets of the State.

"Hesh, you remember my plan?"

Hesh's eyes widened further.

"Yes, my lord."

"It will be put into operation at once. Do you understand?"

Hesh's face had changed color, flushing a wild red. His eyes bulged in his face, his mouth worked.

Suddenly, with no further warning, he leaped at Aeswiren with arms outstretched. Aeswiren was taken by surprise by Hesh's speed. Hesh's hands closed on the Emperor's throat. The fingers dug in like talons. Aeswiren thrust up with his knee, hit Hesh across the side of the head with either hand. The fingers still closed on his throat, still tore at the skin.

Aeswiren heard a voice bellow; hands gripped Hesh by the shoulders and tried to pull him away. Someone screamed. The door to the library burst open, and the guards came in. Klek was already there.

Aeswiren drove his knee into Hesh's belly again and finally broke the man's grip. Aeswiren's right hand came over and smashed Hesh on the side of the face, spinning him around. Aeswiren's left hand came in at the solar plexus as Hesh spun, and the man was driven back a step.

By then many more details of the scene were horrifyingly obvious. Chenko was down, Grimes stood with a sword dripping blood. The Hand had been thoroughly penetrated.

But before Grimes could finish the job and kill him, Klek was there. He engaged Grimes, sword to sword. The pair of guards surged toward Hesh.

Unfortunately Hesh came back up onto his feet with insectal rapidity and met the guards head on. His high kick knocked one guard down, and then Hesh tore the other guard's sword from his hand. That guard fell a moment later as the sword ripped out his throat. Then Hesh turned back to Aeswiren.

It had taken but a few seconds, but that had been enough for Aeswiren to ready himself. The Emperor met the onrush with his sword, and though Hesh's blow was powerful Aeswiren parried it with a smooth stroke. He handled the next cut as well, but then Hesh whipped a quick backhand too low for Aeswiren to counter. The sword slid by and struck Aeswiren across the chest. The mail held, but the force of the blow drove the Emperor to his knees.

Hesh came on and Aeswiren could only block the next blow. Hesh landed astride him, and drove his sword down two-handed at his chest.

Instinctively, Aeswiren's sword deflected the stroke a few degrees, just enough to have it slice wide of his body and bury itself in the wooden floor of the library. It stuck fast there.

Aeswiren sucked in air that felt red hot in his lungs and punched Hesh in the face with every ounce of strength he could muster. Hesh fell backward, and Aeswiren heaved himself clear and started back onto his feet.

Hesh sprang up with an eery, inhuman speed again and tackled him around the legs. Aeswiren went down once more, but wriggled around just in time to block the dagger in Hesh's hand. Aeswiren had Hesh's wrist and Hesh had Aeswiren's. The struggle swayed there for a moment, but Hesh's terrible strength was beginning to tell.

And then Klek drove his sword into Hesh's back while wrapping an arm around his neck and hauling him back from the Emperor.

Aeswiren got to his feet, shaken. Grimes was dead. One of the guards was dead, the other was back on his feet, also looking shaken.

Hesh was arched over on his back, his face rigid in death. Except that Hesh was not yet dead. With a strange squeal he sprang back to life and came back onto his feet as if he were made of rubber. Then he reached over and tore his sword free from the floor.

The guard was the first to reach Hesh. Their swords rang as they clashed. The guard shoved Hesh with his shield, and then Hesh stabbed over the shield with the rapidity of a striking snake and the guard collapsed. The next moment Klek smashed into Hesh, but slipped on the bloody floor and fell heavily. Hesh ignored him and came straight back at the Emperor. Aeswiren met the sword, turned it, went chest to chest with Hesh. The man's eyes were focused on eternity, there was a strange gasping sound coming from his throat.

Aeswiren shoved with his free hand, turning Hesh slightly, an ancient trick of the swordsman. Hesh's thrust missed, but Aeswiren felt his own blade slide deep into Hesh's belly. He ripped upward and dumped the man's guts on the floor. Aeswiren stood back thinking it was over.

It was not. Hesh kept fighting, the strange gasping sound never stopped. Aeswiren felt his helmet fly from his head as Hesh hammered him with the sword. His head was ringing, he came close to blacking out.

Again, Klek saved him. This time he struck at the base of the neck, and Hesh's head was half severed from his body. Blood fountained over them, and the head of the thing flopped over grotesquely.

And still Hesh lived, for he spun around and drove again at Aeswiren. Horrified, almost unnerved, the Emperor barely parried the first blow, felt the second break the chain mail and cut into his ribs. Aeswiren stumbled, the killing blow missed him by a hairbreadth and then Klek caught the thing around its chest and pulled it aside while working his own sword into its chest cavity. Hesh's guts were all over the floor. The room was a charnel house. Hesh hammered Klek in the face and knocked him aside. It turned back to the Emperor. Aeswiren dug deep for his last bit of strength and swung again two-handed. Hesh's head flew across the library and struck a bust of Norgeeben in the far window.

Hesh's body fell headlong and lay still.

Aeswiren looked into Klek's face and saw his own astonishment and dread reflected there. The air carried a stench of blood and shit. Blood was running from Klek's battered nose.

"We must hurry, my lord, your enemies are on the move."

Through the lamp-lit corridors of the east wing, the Emperor staggered, with faithful Klek at his side. Treachery was abroad, assassins were at work.

On the floor just below the library of Euphasian, they found twenty of the Fierce Fists bodies. From blood trails in the hall, it was clear the young men had been killed in various places and then brought there.

Apparently Grimes had not been the only traitor in the Fists.

On the ground floor near the east gate, a half dozen officers, stood in a group, looking lost. The ranker was Colonel Culchep. The sight of the Emperor, covered in blood, limping, shook these men.

"Where are the five hundred men I ordered stationed here?" wondered Aeswiren.

"Back in the barracks, my lord. We received orders, under your seal, to return to barracks while officers waited here."

Aeswiren sucked in a breath.

"And who delivered those orders to you?"

"Grimes, my lord. I did not question them. Are you saying they were not your orders?"

"Yes, Colonel, that is what I am saying. There is treachery at work here. You had best look to your men. I imagine that if you stay here, you will be killed."

The colonel blanched. Aeswiren looked up. Klek was signaling urgently from the doorway. Aeswiren lurched over to take a look.

A battalion of Red Tops entered the east gate. More Red Tops were visible on the battlements above.

"The fornicating sons of dogs," muttered Aeswiren, feeling the layers of civilization sloughing away from him like dead skin. The old Aeswiren, the man of war was reawakening.

"I know a way out," Aeswiren murmured quietly to Klek.

His mind raced ahead. Obviously the priests had moved to take control of the city. Other packets of forged orders would have been used to move the guards regiment to barracks. Red Tops would be everywhere, guarding the gates, monitoring whoever entered or left the city.

When they knew he had escaped, they would redouble the search. The Old One would not rest until Aeswiren was dead.

In his stead they would crown Aurook. Aeswiren had often wondered if the Old One had done something to his sons. Aurook had been a worthwhile person until a few years back. Then came the darkness that turned the boy into a vicious sadist. Aeswiren had fought to save him, but in the end he had lost. Nebbeggebben had been lost, too, exactly five years before. So it went. As the Emperor's heirs approached their majority, they became corrupted. The story was as old as the Empire. He had rid himself, and Shasht, of Nebbeggebben by sending him off on the expedition. Aurook was still here, and now he would be the imperial puppet of the Old One.

Aeswiren felt cold fury burning in his heart. He had waited too long. He had underestimated the Old One. He would not do that again, but he would survive, and someday he would kill the Old One himself. Nothing else would ever banish the sight of Hesh at his end. No man should die like that.

"Colonel, I think you should all go to the barracks at once. There appears to be a regiment of Red Tops entering the palace compound."

Culchep was stunned.

"By the Great God's purple ass! That is unforgivable."

Aeswiren laughed at such military frankness. Culchep had blushed red to his helmet line. At least, Aeswiren, thought, he knew he could trust Culchep!

"Beg pardon, my lord, I..."

Aeswiren stopped him with a hand and a craggy smile. "I want you to get your men into arms and readiness for action, understood? We have to stop this, and stop it now!"

Culchep and the others clattered off. The swarm of Red Tops in the distance was heading their way.

"Come," said Aeswiren, and he hurried back up the passage, toward the southern end of the palace. The men would put up a fight, he was sure, but the Red Tops would overwhelm them in the end. The Old One would have mobilized several battalions for the job, just in case.

They entered the sinostile, crossed the gallery above the indoor gardens, and ran down a staircase that lead to a secret door.

On the landing above the hidden door, they found Bayrid and Chebble, high-ranking members of the Fierce Fists, accompanied by a pair of puzzled-looking guards.

"Your Majesty," said Bayrid, bowing low. The others bowed deeply.

"My lord, you have been hurt. Come, let us escort you to a place of safety."

Chebble stepped forward, his hand moving back toward the hilt of his sword.

Despite his wounds, Aeswiren didn't hesitate, nor did Klek. Their swords flashed first, and they drove forward, spitted Bayrid and Chebble, and dropped them to the cold stone floor.

The guards stared at the Emperor, perplexed by this unimaginable violence.

"These men were traitors," said Aeswiren. "There has been an attempt on the Emperor's life. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord." The men went down on one knee.

"Are you loyal to your Emperor?"

"Yes, my lord."

"Then, come with me and be prepared to sell your lives dearly. Bring those torches from the torchere."

There was a sharp twinge from the wound along his rib cage. The blood had crusted and matted his shirt to his skin, and when he lifted his shoulder it pulled the wound apart painfully. Damn! He'd almost paid with his life back there. He cursed himself. How could he have been so blind?

They went down another floor and lit one of the torches. The walls were of brick and mortar, a passage led off to the right, another to the left. Aeswiren stepped across to the far wall and counted the layers of bricks up from the stone-flagged floor. At the ninth brick he felt along until his fingers ran across a sharp line in the surface. He pressed hard and felt something resist, then slowly give way. With a loud click a section of the wall, from the ninth brick down, swung open. A dark passage, smelling of damp, was revealed at the bottom of the wall.