Empire of Avarice (39 page)

Lalaas peered at his arms critically. Markel was right. Lalaas
pulled a thoughtful expression.

“So where’s his weapons, then?” one of the others asked.

“In here,” Markel waved around. “Their equines are at
the back; I bet their equipment is close by.”

Lalaas decided now was the time to move. He slid into
the barn and made his way behind the animals that were happily chewing on hay. The
group of men were in the centre of the barn and Lalaas passed by unnoticed to
the back. His animals were there, resting, heads down. The equipment was piled
where he’d left it. Slipping on his sword to his belt, he now began to put the saddles
back on the four equines, calming the animals as they looked around at him
curiously.

The conversation in the barn was coming to an end. Markel
was to lead three of them to his home and get the two guests while the other
was to check on the equipment and assess their value. Lalaas had managed to
hitch up two saddles, the ones that were ridden, and knew that trying to load
up the pack animals would make too much noise, so he waited. The others left
for Markel’s house, and the other man came sauntering over, looking in every
nook and cranny for the equipment.

He caught sight of the two equines saddled up and
frowned. That was odd. He walked up to them and suddenly something swished
through the air behind him and there came a sharp, sudden pain and then
blackness. He pitched forward onto the straw and lay there. Lalaas picked up
the torch and stamped on the flames that were catching the straw alight. He
didn’t want that to happen. Putting the torch in a wall bracket, he now
frantically loaded the equipment and saddles onto the two pack equines, and
fixed their ropes to the two riding animals. He briefly considered stringing
his bow, but the wet weather would make it pretty hard to use and probably ruin
the string, so he left that where it was and led the animals out of the barn
and back into the woods, retracing his steps with urgency.

Meanwhile Amne had waited with increasing nervousness in
the room, seated on the bed biting her lower lip and straining her ears for the
slightest sound that may betray the approach of Markel and his friends, or the
return of Lalaas. She was once again clothed and every few moments got up and
peered out of the open window. There was nothing out in the dark except the
rain.

Finally she heard a sound from the front of the house
and crept to the door listening. There were low voices in the house and she
whimpered, stepping away and, her heart pounding furiously in her chest, crept
over to the window. Now she was certain that there were people outside the
door. The candle on the table flickered as another eddy of wind caught it, and
then she saw the handle of the door begin to slowly rotate and there came the
metallic click of the latch being opened. She pulled herself up onto the window
ledge, shaking with fear, and sat on the lip. The door now moved slightly but
the chair, wedged under the handle, stopped it. There came another sound, of
force being applied to the door, and then a low voice saying something. Amne
placed her legs over the edge and looked back as the door shook to a determined
push, then dropped out and landed in the nettles, many already crushed by
Lalaas’ passage. Taking one last look back at the door which was being forced
open, the chair cracking under the pressure, she trotted off around the animal
pen and made for the woods, watching the ground carefully, praying to the gods
for Lalaas to return.

Behind her a voice came, shouting out. She looked back
and saw a face framed in the window, angrily yelling at her. She sobbed out and
began running, stumbling as the uneven ground threatened to bring her headlong
flight to a halt. The dark wood loomed in front of her and she plunged into it,
tripping on a root and falling flat on her face with a shriek.

Lalaas heard both that and the shout that preceded it,
and crossed the track, pulling the unwilling equines after him, cursing their
reluctance. He judged Amne was a short distance off to the left and ahead, and
urged the animals to follow him into the darkness. “Amne!” he shouted.

Amne heard him, and first thought it was one of the
villagers, then realised it had been Lalaas. Sobbing in relief she got up and
stumbled through the trees, her arms up to shield her face. Shouts were now
coming from behind as the villagers came running out of the house and around to
pursue her. “Here!” she cried out.

Lalaas veered and angrily brushed aside a low branch
that threatened to take out his eyes. He saw against the lights held by the
villagers a small dark shadow stumbling hesitantly ahead. “Here, Amne.”

With a cry Amne fell into his arms and they held each
other for a moment. Then Lalaas took hold of her arm and guided her back,
turning the equines around. “The track – we can’t mount up until we get there –
the trees are too thick and low.”

Handed the ropes to her equine and one pack animal, Amne
followed Lalaas, holding his hand with one of hers and pulling her two animals
with the other. The equines made things hard and their progress was slow, not
helped by Amne’s rising panic as the shouts and lights got closer. Eventually
it became clear they were cut off and the noise of their passage had pinpointed
their position. Lalaas let go of Amne and passed her the rope to his beasts. “No
other option now but to face them,” he muttered, sliding his sword out and
turning to face their pursuers.

Amne shrank behind him and clutched the ropes, shaking. Lalaas
stepped forward two paces and stopped, watching as the flames of the torches
got closer and closer, coming from left, right and ahead. Shapes materialised
from the trees and four villagers came into view, armed with clubs. They halted
when they saw Lalaas gripping his sword two-handed and facing them with
determination. “Which of you fancies their chances, then?” he asked softly. “Who
is going to be first to try their luck?”

“You can go – we want the girl,” the nearest villager
nodded in Amne’s direction.

“You’ll have to kill me first,” Lalaas said grimly. “Now
get it over with or step aside. I’m not in the mood for further conversation.”

“Four to one” the villager said. “Fair odds. Forget him;
we can get our earning from her alone.” The four dropped their torches, the
flames hissing as the wet earth met the flames, and the light dimmed by about
half. The four closed in but Lalaas sprang forward, his blade sweeping in a
huge arc, causing them to all jump back in alarm. The hunter stepped to one
side and hacked at the man to the left. As the villager stumbled back, shock in
his eyes, the other three came in, clubs raised. Lalaas flung up his blade and
blocked the downward blow of the nearest, and chips of wood went flying up
where steel met it. Without hesitation Lalaas thrust his head forward and his
forehead crashed into the nose of the man who cried out and staggered back, his
hands clutching his ruined face.

Amne screamed as one man grabbed her and she struggled
against him for a moment. While this went on, the other villager tried to crush
in Lalaas’ head but the blow was knocked aside by the blade of the hunter’s
sword, and Lalaas sent in a fist that struck the man under the ribs, winding
him. The first man who had stumbled back now came at Lalaas again and the
hunter dodged desperately as he caught sight of the club swinging down at him.

Pain exploded throughout Lalaas’ shoulder as the weapon
struck but he was already countering, sweeping up with his sword inside the
line of the blow from the club. Even as Lalaas cried out through the pain of
the blow, his blade was sinking into the unprotected stomach of the villager. The
man sucked in his last breath and sank to his knees, vainly trying to keep his
intestines from spilling out from his torn open gut.

Lalaas staggered to one side, his left arm hanging
uselessly. He advanced on the man wrestling with Amne. “Let her go, you pimp!”
he snapped.

The villager slowly released her and stepped back,
smiling widely. “Alright, alright, I’ve let go.”

“Get back, go on, away!”

The villager eyed the fallen man and the two others. One
was holding his guts, whooping for breath while the other was sitting on the
ground dazedly clutching a nose that was flowing with blood. “Pity we can’t
have her,” the villager nodded at Amne, “we’d share the reward with you.”

“Keep on talking like that and I’ll remove your tongue,”
Lalaas snarled, the pain adding to his temper. “Now take your fallen comrade
and get out of my way, or I’ll end your miserable life too.”

“Alright, alright, we’re going!” the villager shrugged,
still smiling. The way he was doing that sent shivers down Amne’s back. “But
don’t think you’ll be able to get that far. She’ll fetch a really high price at
market and someone here will take her from you. Best you put her in a collar
and sell her quick before you lose the chance to make money.”

Lalaas advanced, his face furious. The villager grabbed
his winded colleague and pulled him to his side. “Come on, there’s no profit in
trying to stop them. Let them go.”

“Let’s go, Amne,” Lalaas said, his eyes still on the
three men, “you’ll be alright with all the beasts?”

“Yes, I just want to be away from these horrible people
as soon as possible.”

Lalaas allowed Amne to precede him away from the
watching three men. The way they regarded the two was almost – predatory. He
backed off slowly, following the princess and the equines. “If I find you’re
following us I’ll personally slay you all. Got that?”

“Clearly,” the villager spokesman said calmly. “But two
of you alone won’t get far. The word will get out and the money she’ll fetch
will bring all the bounty hunters hereabouts running. Best you turn her over to
us; at least she’ll be well treated until we get to the auctioneer’s block.”

“Your tongue needs removing, friend.” Lalaas retreated
now out of the little clearing the villagers were standing in and put a few
trees in between him and them. He saw the villagers pick up their torches and
move over to the body of their comrade. He turned and came up to the rear of
the animals. Amne had stopped, unsure of where to go. Lalaas sheathed his sword
and took her hand and guided her through a section of undergrowth and suddenly
they found the track.

They mounted up, the hurt hunter somewhat awkwardly, and
Lalaas led her away from the village out into the countryside, the rain still
pattering down and the dark of the night almost absolute. They would have to
stop soon or lose their way completely. After a few moments Lalaas pulled Amne
over and looked back. There was nothing but dark shapes against a slightly less
dark background. “Can’t see a thing; we’ll have to stop or we’ll fall down some
ditch or hole or something. I think we’re still on the track but I can’t be
sure.”

“What’s going to happen to us?” Amne asked, shivering.

“We’ll be fine; it just needs a bit of planning, that’s
all. Come on, help me get one tent up.”

“One?” Amne asked, surprised.

“We’re both cold and wet. We need to keep each other
warm. And putting up and then putting down one tent will take half the time it
does two. You tether the animals and keep their saddles on; I don’t want to be
kept here long after we start packing. And I can’t use my left arm – it’s
hurting like anything.”

They got one tent up fast and a bed made. The rain eased
which helped, and the waterproof covering of the tent fabric kept the water
out. Their clothes were left hanging under the tent, Lalaas copying the clothes
line trick the villagers had used, although he hadn’t got a fire handy. Amne
got Lalaas out of his jacket and looked at the injury. The flesh was already
badly bruised and it would be multi-coloured by morning. There was also a nasty
cut where a jagged part of the club had impacted, and Amne dressed the wound as
best she could. After that they huddled together under the blankets. Amne was
surprised at how quickly she had agreed to Lalaas’ outrageous suggestion, but
she was cold and wet, and she was frightened. She needed the comfort of Lalaas
and clung to him. If her family could see her now they would be scandalised,
but she didn’t care. It wasn’t them out here in the wilds, being hunted by
people wanting to enslave her. Lalaas held her close, knowing she needed to be
close to him that night. Those villagers had spoken about her as though she
were nothing but an object to be bartered. And the threat that she would be
hunted throughout the region had knocked any fight out of her. She would need Lalaas’
protection more than ever. He stroked her hair and she smiled, snuggling into
him. It was an intimate time, a time Lalaas knew would not be repeated, and it
still might get him into trouble, for if Astiras ever found out about this the
emperor might well punish the hunter. A commoner simply did not snuggle
princesses to them in their tents, each only dressed in their undergarments.

Despite the seriousness of their situation, and despite
the throbbing pain in his arm, Lalaas permitted himself a smile, too.

Evas Extonos was surprised to get a visit from Demtro. He
was even more surprised at the paper Demtro threw down on his desk. “Tell them
all to leave, now,” Demtro snapped with authority.

Evas looked at his guards, then nodded. “I’ll call you
if I need you,” he said. The two guards who always stood close to the governor
looked reluctant, but they trooped out and closed the door behind them.

“And him,” Demtro pointed at the advisor, Prelek.

“Go on,” Evas said heavily, “Demtro is no threat.”

Prelek gave Demtro an unfriendly look before following
the guards out, leaving the two alone. Demtro hooked a foot out and pulled a
chair towards him and sat down, lounging untidily across it. Evas picked up the
document and read it carefully. Finally he passed it back to the merchant who
folded it and put it back in an inside pocket.

“Well, well, well,” the governor breathed out. “The
empresses’ spy. I ought to have known.”

“Spy is a little harsh,” Demtro said with a smile. “Representative
would be much more to my liking.”

“Spy will do; its also quite accurate,” Evas said
acidly. “So what is it you’re here for?”

“I have uncovered a Tybar plot to destabilise the
imperial rule here in Niake. It could well be the prelude to an invasion. Knock
out the ability of the local governor to defend the province and they can walk
in almost unopposed and, snap!” he clicked his fingers, “another conquest.”

“What proof do you have?” Evas asked.

“Proof? Proof? Pah!” Demtro waved a hand dismissively. “Stop
talking like a damned lawyer and start behaving like a man of action, which is
what the empire needs here. Bathenia is no longer a core province; it’s on the
front line and the Tybar are looking in your direction, slavering at the mouth.
You’re next on their meal list so start getting tough!”

“Perhaps you can advise me then what needs to be done?”

Demtro frowned. “By the gods; do you still need your
mother to breast feed on? Be a man; stop needing a wet nurse. Show everyone
you’re Evas Extonos, governor of Niake, not some mewling child who needs their
nappy changed by some guardian every time you need to make a decision. Or if
not, I’ll sent a report back to Kastan to recommend you be replaced by someone
who’ll go to this address,” and he threw the leaflet at him, “and arrest anyone
there. I doubt you’ll find anyone, but the Tybar have been using it as a base. And
that so-called priest preaching out there the other day; he’s a Tybar agent. He
had a long beard previously but he shaved it off to look like a Kastanian
priest.”

“How do you know that?” Evas snapped, piqued by Demtro’s
sarcasm.

“His face, you idiot. His lower jaw and chin were not
suntanned; the rest of his face was. Clearly he’d just shaved off a
long-standing growth of beard, something Tybar priests and agents have as a
matter of course. Must be some sort of fashion with them.”

Evas looked doubtful. “You appear to know a lot about
the Tybar.”

“It’s my job to!” Demtro exploded. “It is your job to
govern this city on behalf of the empire, not yourself! You are putting your
own future ahead of the empire’s. Stop trying to please everyone all the time,
governor, because you’ll be pissing into the wind with that one.”

“Things are delicate here,” Evas tried to explain, “if
we upset a group of people….”

“If you upset a group of people too bad,” Demtro
dismissed the objection abruptly. “If they don’t like it tell them to go live
with the Tybar. If they carry on moaning arrest them. Hang a few publicly. It’s
amazing just how fast the others rally round to your side when they see you do
that.”

Evas locked his fingers together and looked troubled. “There
were two Tybar people in this office a few sevendays ago. One was bearded and
looked like a priest to me.” He looked up. “But he said he didn’t speak
Kastanian.”

“And you believed him?” Demtro sighed. “Tsk tsk,
governor. You need a healthy dose of cynicism to carry on effectively as a
governor. Go rouse your indolent militia and get them exercised. Go out into
the streets and tell the people the Tybar are coming; that they have spies and
agents here in Niake. That’ll rattle these idiots.”

“It may cause a riot,” Evas protested.

“Phah! You see monsters under every bed. Rally the
people to you. Can’t you see if you tell them there’s an outside danger
threatening them all, they’ll look to you to protect them. This is your chance
to prove to all you’re the right man for the job. Be their friend, be their
protector. Make them realise you’re vital to them. It’s a skill any ruler ought
to have. Have an ‘execute the Tybar spy’ day. Provide the masses with
entertainment! They’ll love you.”

Evas sat with his mouth open. “Are you mad?”

“No, I’m trying to show you what it takes to properly
rule a city. You can’t do it trying to please everyone; that way you actually
do nothing and piss everyone off. Which, may I say, is what’s happening now. Are
you attached to that chair? You don’t seem to be able to leave it. Go show
yourself, show them you can take action to protect your people.”

“You really are a disrespectful insolent man, aren’t
you?” Evas said.

“One of my finer points,” Demtro agreed. “I’m such a
wonderful person to know. Just ask the girls.”

Evas shook his head, muttering.

Demtro leaned forward, his finger jabbing into the
table. “Unless you get up off your backside and do something positive, you
won’t be here in a sevenday’s time, I can tell you right now.”

“Very well, if that’s my choice,” the governor said
heavily, standing up.

“It is. Oh and another thing; that man Prelek. Is he
your advisor?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Well he’s doing an absolutely appalling job. I’d get
rid of him. What advice is he giving you? Sit here and grow roots?”

“There’s no need to be disrespectful to everyone,” Evas
said forcefully. “I trust you’re not like this with the empress.”

“If I were I’d be in one of their dungeons,” Demtro
grinned. Then he went serious again. “You must stamp this Tybar presence out. And
at the same time you can use this to conveniently arrest anyone contributing to
the general unrest in Niake.”

“Such as?”

“Oh, come on, Evas! I’ve seen the reports you’ve sent
the empress. She’s kept me up to date with what’s going on here. I even know
what times you go to the toilet. You know there are groups here causing
hardship to the people, like those rapacious rent collectors. Arrest a couple
of the worst; get them to cancel the debts to their victims. That way the
people have money to spend here on food or materials.”

“Like yours?” Evas asked nastily.

“Oh, tush tush, governor. You cast such aspersions upon
my faultless character. It’ll help the struggling small traders no end if
people can buy their products; this will in turn enable them to buy other raw
materials, helping the local industries that produce them. Then suddenly you’re
distributing the wealth around more people rather than watching a few greedy
individuals gobbling it all up. Stop the loan hunters; they’re driving your
people into penury. Arrest them, seize their goods.”

“You want to cause a revolt here?” the governor stared
at the lounging man.

“No, to do the opposite. You’re far too worried about
what a few people think about you to really be effective. Pander to the
majority, and don’t forget the enemy at the gates.”

Evas went and looked out of the window over the square. People
were walking past, heads down or not talking. A few were standing in groups,
discussing whatever it was that they were interested in. “I’ve kept the peace
here for so long,” he said quietly, almost too quiet for Demtro to hear, “that
I’ve forgotten what I became governor for. I’ve got used to steering a middle
course, to use a sailor’s term, to avoid the rocks. I once heard a ship’s
captain say that,” Evas turned round, a wry smile on his face.

“Let me tell you how it is, Evas. I like you, despite
the fact you wouldn’t say boo to a guard bird. The emperor runs this empire,
and he’s busy kicking Bragalese backsides, so he leaves the running of the
empire to his wife. She tells you and the other governors how it has to be
done, and you in turn tell the people here the same. If she wants the Tybar
threat eliminated, you do it. She’s not someone you want to annoy.”

“Tell me, Demtro, what is she really like?”

“Oh of course, you’ve never met her, have you? Well; as
an empress, she’s got this inner toughness – she has to, to put up with a bully
like Astiras – and will fight for what she wants. She’s very protective of her
family, and will listen to sensible advice. She may not follow it, but she’ll
listen, unlike Astiras. As a woman – wow. Absolutely stunning.”

“That’s irrelevant, isn’t it?”

Demtro shrugged. “Depends. If you’re asked to do
something you’re not particularly keen to do, you’d do it more readily for
someone who looks like the empress rather than someone who resembles the back
end of a plough bovine.”

“But if any empress asks you to do something you’d do
it, whether they looked great or not.”

“Point taken – but I was actually talking about women in
general.”

“Don’t you normally?” Evas asked sarcastically.

Demtro grinned and pointed at Evas. “You’re not as dull
as I thought! Nice one. Now go out there and kick some backsides. Show who’s
running the show here. And root out those damned Tybar agents. I know what two
look like, and so do you, by the sounds of things.”

“I’m not happy at the thought of arresting people who I
don’t know for certain have done anything wrong,” the governor said hesitantly.
“But I’ll do as the empress bids; I, too, am a loyal servant of her majesty. Please
tell her that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll paint a glowing picture of you.” He
got up and made for the door.

The governor called him as he got to it and Demtro
turned round, an enquiring look on his face. “What are you going to do now,
Demtro?”

“Go after the female porcine who had me tied up in her
hideout. There can’t be too many places a young, dark, slim fantastic looking
girl can go unnoticed in a city this size.”

“Always chasing women, Demtro. They’ll be the downfall
of you one of these days.”

“With any luck, yes,” Demtro grinned and left.

 Niake was turned into a disturbed insect nest over the
next day or so. Soldiers went out in squads and called on addresses of known
illegal loan organisations and dragged the protesting members off to the
garrison prison. Posters went up in all public places warning of the danger to
them posed by undercover spies in Niake. Accusations came flooding in of
definite Tybar ‘agents’ from all over the city, and Evas was shocked to get so
many. He had no idea his city had been so infested, or so it seemed. Protest
groups and underground dissident movements who had up to now believed they were
secret, found that this had been a false belief as soldiers kicked in doors and
dragged people off, often during daylight hours. Citizens who witnessed these
joined in the accusations that all those arrested were Tybar agents and pelted
the prisoners with mud, stones and rotten vegetables. The soldiers had a hard
time getting some into the safety of the compound and the garrison was put
under a state of virtual siege by the angry mob. Evas was overwhelmed by public
feeling on the matter. At last they had a visible target to vent their
frustrations and anger and fears upon.

Amongst all of this they actually found a couple of
Tybar agents. Evas made it a personal mission to inspect all those brought in
for questioning and on the second day spotted the man Habnas, cowering in the
line of miserable looking people. He pointed to the Tybar agent. “That one,
definitely. Habnas, isn’t it?” he addressed the prisoner directly.

“Governor,” Habnas straightened and nodded, no longer
cowering now that he’d been recognised. There was no more need for it. “I shall
of course lodge a protest at this outrage.”

“Of course,” Evas agreed. “Where’s your bearded friend
who cannot speak Kastanian?”

“I don’t know,” Habnas spread his hands helplessly.

“Get the truth out of him,” Evas said to the officer in
charge of the garrison prison.

Habnas scowled and struggled as two strong men took hold
of him. “We’ll be here soon enough,” he shouted at Evas’ back as the governor
went to depart. “And when we do you’ll be sorry!”

“Silence, canine!” a guard cuffed the man around the
head.

The prison was overflowing. People were crammed into the
cells just to fit them all in. Niake wasn’t designed to cope with such numbers
of felons. In the office upstairs Evas spoke to the garrison commander. “Get
the names and addresses of all those connected with these protest groups and
dissident organisations, and then ship them off to Turslenka. I don’t want them
in Niake.”

“The mines? Certainly sir,” the commander saluted.

Evas left and was cheered by the crowd. He smiled and
waved at them. “We have Tybar agents under arrest. Rest assured they will be
dealt with. Some of those inside are not Tybar agents but enemies of the empire
nonetheless and they will be sent to the mines of Turslenka. Your lives will be
safer now as a result!”