Threshold (25 page)

“And why does
that
not surprise me?” Boaz muttered. “But how is it that you know this, Zabrze?”

“
Shetzah
, Boaz! I cannot think how you can spend so much time in Setkoth and still be so unaware of court intrigue!” Zabrze leaned forward. “I came down here fully expecting trouble – from several quarters. I’d heard the rumours about Threshold, about the ‘accidents’ on site, so I certainly expected trouble from the pyramid itself – I did not realise then how bad it would be. I also knew that Chad-Nezzar had a tenuous idea about seizing Threshold for his own use, and I knew that the Magi and the power of the Magi had infiltrated much of the army, how much I wasn’t sure, but enough that I no longer trust much of my command. And then, here we were sailing into an encampment of slaves unsure of their future. Of
course I expected some kind of revolt, or at least a plot for one!”

“And so you came prepared to put that down?” Boaz asked.

“No,” Zabrze said, staring at his brother, “I came half-expecting to use them as allies.”

“I saw one of your officers talking to a man I know is involved in the plot,” I said.

“Yes.”

“But how did you know so quickly?” I asked. “Your men had been here barely two hours before I saw –”

“I told Prince Zabrze, Tirzah,” said a voice, and I looked about, wondering when the shocks were about to stop.

“I told him.”

“Kiamet?” Boaz said, his voice angry.

“My brother is Azam,” Kiamet said. “No-one knew that. No-one.”

Gods. I dropped my face into one hand.

“Kiamet has been a very useful man,” Zabrze said quietly. “Very.”

“Azam pressured me for information,” Kiamet said. “But I would not give it to him. I,” he hesitated, his eyes pleading to Boaz for understanding, “I would not betray you, My Lord.”

“But you did not hesitate to work for my brother,” Boaz said bitterly.

“Oh, Boaz, be sensible!” Zabrze said. “You should have realised! Kiamet was not one of those guards who has been here under Magi influence for years. He came down with the soldiers when Chad-Nezzar came here some months ago. He has always been my man.”

“And yet, Boaz,” I said, thinking it through, “there is much he could have reported to Zabrze about both you and me, but did not. Think about it. He has been more loyal to us than is immediately apparent.”

Kiamet shot a grateful look my way. I returned it. He could have told Azam about what I’d been doing in this residence, what I’d been learning. But he had not.

“It has not always been easy,” Kiamet said simply.

Boaz nodded, accepting it. “Now what?”

“Now we see just how many we
can
rally to aid us,” Zabrze said, and stood. “Perhaps if we can raise a thousand or more then we might mount an assault on Threshold itself. Smash the capstone, even the Infinity Chamber. Stop it.”

“But –” Boaz began.

“But if we can’t,” Zabrze looked at me, “Tirzah? If we can’t?”

“Then you must do what your father told you, Boaz,” I said. “You must listen to the Song of the Frogs. Understand it. Learn it. Learn who
you
are. And then perhaps you
will
be able to stop whatever it is that Threshold will become at noon.”

“And how, pray, will I learn to understand the Song of the Frogs?”

“I have some friends, Boaz.”

“Yaqob!” He spat the word.

“Yes, and Isphet, and a dozen others. They will help you. There is a place that Isphet knows. A community where the ways of Elemental magic are still strong. Among them are Graces, elders of power who
can
teach you.” I looked at Zabrze. “Great Lord, if you can’t destroy Threshold, then I will have to get Boaz away from here.”

Zabrze nodded. “Can you get him to your friends now?”

“I think so. Boaz, here, take this,” and I handed him the box containing the book.

I quickly wrapped the Goblet of the Frogs in a robe and held it close.

“Kiamet,” Zabrze said, “go with them. Make sure they are safe. Then go to Azam, as we planned.”

Kiamet nodded.

“And Tirzah?”

I looked up.

“Stop calling me Great Lord. It is slightly ridiculous in the situation.”

I nodded, smiled, then Kiamet and I hurried Boaz out the door.

W
E
walked slowly, confidently, Kiamet and I slightly behind Boaz. Two or three of the Magi called out to Boaz, and one stopped to chat to him about the preparations for the rite.

He was curt and impatient with them. But that was normal for the Master of the Site, and none who talked to him realised that it was because he was nervous.

Just as we reached the gate, there came a shout behind us.

“Excellency!”

We jumped, and I saw Kiamet’s hand slide towards his sword. But then he relaxed.

Holdat.

“Excellency!” Holdat panted. “What is it that you do?”

Boaz opened his mouth, no doubt to snap, but Holdat took the box from his hand, managing to fawn and bow at the same time.

“Excellency! You must let me carry that for you!”

“It is a good idea, Excellency,” Kiamet said softly.

I regarded Holdat fondly. No doubt he would astound us shortly with the revelation that he was Zabrze’s long-lost twin brother.

But no. Holdat whispered to me as we marched through the gate and into Gesholme that he had seen and heard some of what had transpired in Boaz’s residence during the night. “And I was not going to let you go without someone to cook for you, Tirzah!” He winked.

I suppressed a smile. It would be useful to have Holdat with us. If we escaped. My good humour faded and I risked a glance over my shoulder at Threshold. It loomed bright and confident in the morning.

The sun was well above the horizon.

“Curse it, Tirzah, which way?” Boaz’s soft voice cut through my thoughts.

I bowed slightly, thinking that everyone from Threshold to the lowliest slave must have their eye on us, and led the group down a street, and then into an alley. My stomach churned; it was weeks since I had been home to Isphet’s tenement. What would she say? What would she do?
Would
she help us?

We arrived without incident. Kiamet, as would have been natural in normal circumstances, stepped to the door and hammered on it. My mind jumped back to the night of my arrival when Ta’uz had led me here.

There was a soft scuffling inside, as there had been then, and then Isphet threw back the door.

“Yes?” she enquired.

But I could read her eyes now, and they said that she believed I had betrayed her. Why else would the Master of the Site arrive so precipitously at her door?

She stared at me, her expression flat and hostile, then looked at Boaz. “Have you come to find fodder to make up the seventeen, Excellency?” she asked. “Does Threshold require further feeding today?”

Boaz ignored her as Kiamet whispered in his ear, then disappeared down the alley. Gone to Azam, I supposed.

As soon as Kiamet left, Boaz returned his attention to Isphet.

“Let me enter,” he said, and pushed past her. I was quick behind him, then Holdat, still clutching the box.

“Isphet,” I said as she closed the door. “It is not as it –”

“You bitch!” she hissed. “You have betrayed us. Why? For what? Does he pat you on the head? Feed you sweetmeats? Do you roll over and let him scratch your belly?”

“Isphet –”

“She has
not
betrayed you, Isphet,” Boaz said. “She has risked her life more than once to save you.”

She glared at him. “What do you want?”

Kiath and Saboa had retreated to a corner, sure the rest of their lives could be measured in hours at the most.

“We have come to help you escape,” Boaz said.

“Isphet, Boaz needs training. He is an Elemental Necromancer. We need you to help us get to –”

“What?” Isphet tried very hard to laugh. “What? Have you been out in the sun too long, girl? Is this some elaborate trick? Some –”

“Oh be quiet, woman!” Boaz snapped. He was fast regaining his equilibrium as his own shock faded and his acceptance hardened. “Why do you suspect a trick? If I wanted to destroy you, as all other Elementals within your workshop, or destroy Yaqob and Azam for the planned revolt, I would have done it without a word or warning shout and you would
all
be dead by now. Let Tirzah talk!”

Isphet just stared at him, more shocked now that he’d named Yaqob and Azam so surely.

“Sit down, Isphet,” I said, and led her to a stool, pulled one up beside her, and started to talk.

I talked until the sun shone strong through the windows. Boaz sank down on the floor, his back against a wall, his eyes never leaving Isphet’s face. Holdat stood close by, his arms folded, the box at his feet.

“It was Boaz,” I finished gently, “who gave me the locks of hair. He transformed Druse’s stone lock to softness, and he told me to go to you with them.”

Isphet looked at me, then to Boaz. I did not blame her for disbelieving.

“And yet,” she said, her eyes still locked on Boaz, “he also filled you with so much pain you will never bear children, and threw you eight days into a hole that left you all but dead. Tell me, Tirzah,” her eyes swept back to me, “why I should trust you after you have kept so many secrets. Why?”

“I can give you no other reason, Isphet, save our friendship. Please, trust me.”

“Kiamet, my guard,” said Boaz, “has gone to Azam. Your little uprising shall have more support than you ever suspected. Prince Zabrze will aid you if you will help him destroy Threshold.”

Isphet finally managed to break into harsh laughter. “After all these years,
Excellency
, slaving over the hot glass, you now tell me we’re all going to march up to that cursed pyramid and
smash
it?”

“Isphet,” I began again, thinking to tell her of the Book of the Soulenai, but then the courtyard door burst open and Yaqob, Azam and Kiamet stepped in. Yaqob had a wild look to his eye, and he, as Azam, was armed.

“Yaqob!” I leapt to my feet, Boaz rising more slowly, his eyes on Yaqob.

“Azam came to fetch me with a wild tale that Princes were allied to slaves and that Magi were Elementals in disguise,” Yaqob said. “I almost did not believe him, save that now this Kiamet joins us, and a unit of imperial guards wait for us in the alley, and I see that this maggot,” he spat at Boaz, “has managed to crawl out of his dung hole to sit and chat to slaves. Isphet, what have they told you?”

I cringed at the “they”.

“That Boaz is an Elemental Necromancer…”

Yaqob’s eyes widened. Kiamet had very obviously not used that term.

“…and that now he and Zabrze wish to aid us in our struggle for freedom. I do not know what to think.”

“I would smell ‘trap’,” Yaqob said, “except this is so elaborate that I wonder what its purpose could be. The light entertainment before the true fun of awakening Threshold? Eh, Boaz? Do the Magi and Chad-Nezzar himself wait outside to burst into applause as I lead my sorry band out to fight for freedom?
Eh?
”

“Yaqob –” Boaz began, but Azam broke in.

“We have not the time for this, Yaqob. Isphet, stay here, and lock up safe until we come for you. If it looks bad, then flee for the Lhyl. You may have a chance of stealing a boat.” He paused, and looked about. “Yaqob, Kiamet, come with me.”

But Yaqob was staring at me. “Tirzah,” he said. “Do you remember what once I told you?”

“Yaqob?”

“I said, Tirzah, that on the day we fought to freedom, you and I, I would leave Boaz dead behind us.”

And before any of us could react he drew his sword and lunged the distance between himself and Boaz.

I screamed and lunged myself, but there was nothing I could do. Boaz was surprised and unarmed, and all I saw was a flash of steel as Yaqob sank his blade into Boaz’s belly.

“
That
,” Yaqob snarled, his face close to Boaz’s, “is for the pain and the grief you have caused Tirzah and I.”

Then he stepped back, wrenched his sword free, seized me and gave me a hard kiss. “Soon, Tirzah,” he said, “soon.” And then he was gone.

I beat Kiamet to Boaz’s side only by an instant.

“Boaz!” I cried, wrapping my arms about him as he sank to the floor.

Behind I heard Isphet push Azam out the door. “Go!” she said. “Go! There is nothing you can do here.”

Kiamet was helpless. He had been trained to inflict such wounds, not aid them, and Isphet laid a hand to his
shoulder and literally hauled him away. He sank to the floor some paces away, his mission to aid Azam forgotten.

Boaz had still not said a word. He wore a stunned look on his face as he stared down at his hands wrapped about his belly. Blood was seeping through his fingers.

“Boaz!” I wailed again. “Isphet,
do
something!”

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she muttered, and I think she was referring to the whole of life with that word, not just the tragedy playing out before our eyes. “Stupid! Tirzah, take his hands for me, keep them away. I need to look…”

She tore at his robes, using a small knife we used for gutting fish to cut them away. “Kiath, tear up some bandages. Now!”

Isphet exposed Boaz’s belly, and I stifled another cry. Yaqob had struck him slightly to one side of his navel, a neat clean wound that nevertheless bled profusely.

Boaz moaned, as the first pain nibbled in at his shock.

“Isphet!” I cried, and she turned and struck me hard across my face.

“Shut
up
, girl! I don’t need you moaning as well!”

She probed quickly, then took the bandage that Kiath handed her. “There’s not much I can do now, Excellency…Boaz…except stop the bleeding. Later I’ll explore it more. See what damage has been done. But a belly wound…”

She didn’t have to tell any of us how dangerous that was. “It depends on what Yaqob struck on his way through. Tirzah, help him sit up, I need to wrap this about him. Good.”

Boaz grunted as I leaned him forward, then relaxed back once Isphet was done. “Isphet,” he said, his voice hoarse with deepening pain and shock. “Get Tirzah away from here if –”

“I’m not leaving you!” I said. “
Not!
”

“No-one’s going anywhere yet,” Isphet said. “Tirzah, press here…yes, that’s good. Maintain that pressure. It will help stop the bleeding.”

She sat back on her heels, her face pale and smudged with blood across the chin where she’d wiped one of her hands. Her eyes drifted between Boaz and myself. “It seems,” she said softly, “that Yaqob has more to be concerned about than whether or not the Magus plans to foil his uprising.”

“I live for Boaz, Isphet. I have for months now.”

“Then it is a shame you neglected to tell Yaqob that your affection for him has dimmed, Tirzah! He is too good a man, and has been too good to you, to be thus treated. You have given him the hope and the dream to get through many a dark day. Now…” She looked at Boaz with utter distaste. “Now he will take the news hard.”

“Then I hope he doesn’t take it out on me again,” Boaz muttered, and his hand fluttered over the red-tinged bandage about his belly, “if this was only the result of a mild distemper.”

“Rest,” Isphet said abruptly, and she rose, walked to the far side of the room, and sank down to her sleeping pallet. Her eyes never left us.

“Boaz?” I whispered. “Boaz?”

“Hmm?” He was drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Boaz, don’t leave me.”

“Perhaps Isphet was right. Yaqob would be better for you…after all I’ve done…Yaqob would be better…”

“Boaz,” I whispered, “
Don’t leave me!
”

We sat for an hour or more, waiting for we knew not what. Kiamet and Holdat had dropped to one side of Boaz, helpless, but lending me strength through their presence.

Eventually Isphet rose and came over to us. Boaz was now asleep – or unconscious – and she told me to relax the pressure on his belly.

“He tore you apart with his power, Tirzah,” she whispered. “And now he suffers likewise. It is not a coincidence, methinks.” And she was gone again.

I lowered my head and wept, remembering what the Soulenai had said to me.

Tirzah, if someone visits such pain on another person, then one day that pain will rebound on him. It is the price he will eventually have to pay.

“No, no, no,” I whispered. But it was too late. I could only hope that the price he would have to pay would not be
too
great.

Time passed, and the room grew hot. Boaz sweated and tossed in my arms, and I whispered to him fooleries that I’m sure only deepened his fever. Holdat fetched a damp cloth and wiped Boaz’s brow, and I smiled briefly at him, grateful.

“Fighting,” Isphet said, breaking into my thoughts.

I raised my head, listening.

I did not hear anything immediately, then heard the faint noise of shouts, and the ring of steel against steel. “Zabrze has had to fight his way through to Threshold,” I said listlessly.

“And we fight with him.” Isphet was standing now, a hand and an ear to the door. “Kiath. Go to the roof and tell me what you see.”

Kiath slipped out the courtyard door, and I heard her quick steps on the stairs.

She was gone a long while, and meantime the sound of fighting grew closer. Isphet glanced at me and at Boaz from time to time, her face worried. Where was Yaqob? Azam?

Would we have to move without them?

Gods, no! I prayed. How would we move Boaz? He could
not
be moved.

Damn you, Yaqob, I thought, that you be so unwilling to accept the help handed you! Damn your jealousy! But then I wondered if the blame for Yaqob’s actions should be laid at my feet, not his. Had I been wrong to keep silent for so long?

Kiath returned.

“Well?” Isphet snapped.

“There is heavy fighting in the streets to the west of us,” Kiath said. “I do not think Prince Zabrze managed to get close to Threshold. His men, and those of us who fight with him, are being forced back.”

“Where is the sun, Kiath?” I asked. “How high?”

“It waits but an hour until noon.”

“Isphet!” I cried, forgetting my earlier concerns about leaving. “We’ve got to go! If we’re still here at noon…!”

“There’s worse,” Kiath said.

“Out with it, girl!”

“Gesholme is afire.”

We all stared at her, and I realised even Boaz had his eyes open. Afire! Oh, gods!