Sword Empire (23 page)

Kananda decided abruptly that he did not dare to waste any more time on aimless searching. His only hope now was to return to a vantage point near the inn and hope that he could stay unseen and yet still be able to intercept them before they went inside. He spun on his heel and walked quickly back the way he had come.

To add to his frustration, he soon knew that he had taken a wrong turn and that he was lost. He was in a street that was unfamiliar and could only hope that he was still hurrying in the right direction. He came to an intersection where all the streets looked equally unrecognizable and stood there sweating and fuming. Then the gods relented and gave him a sign. A woman passed him carrying a brand new cloak in the cheap style that had been on sale at several of the stalls in the Central Market. Kananda headed back the way she had come and three minutes later found himself in the bustling maze inside the abandoned warehouse.

From here he knew his way, and re-traced his steps to the Green Fish. The inn stood on a corner where it could be approached from two directions. There was no sign that it was watched, but most of the overhanging upper windows were boarded by wooden shutters and there could have been a score of guards hidden inside. Or none. Without entering the building, there was no way of knowing.

There was a second inn, barely seventy paces away on the same street, called the Silver Blade. Kananda waited until a passing cart gave him cover to approach and turned quickly inside. He seated himself at a table near an open window which gave him a view of the Green Fish and called for an ale. While he waited for it to be served, his heart hammered and he was tensed and ready to jump up and draw his sword, but no one paid him any attention. There were no other customers in the drinking room of the Silver Blade, and no sign of any response or movement from the Green Fish.

Kananda waited until his drink had been served, and then slowly he relaxed. Either no one had noticed his arrival, or the City Guards were waiting for all three of them to walk into the trap. He stayed alert and watchful and waited. Now there was nothing else that he could do.

After an hour, the waiting was again sawing at his nerves, and he was now getting curious looks from the two serving girls behind the ale counter. Then at last he was rewarded. He saw Zela coming up the street toward him, walking proudly with her hood thrown back and her face fully revealed. Relief flooded through him like an incoming tide as he sprang to his feet and moved to the door. As she passed, he reached out, grabbed at her arm and pulled her inside.

Her body tensed with instinctive resistance, and then came to him too quickly and too easily. He knew her too well and his free hand clamped down on her wrist as she succeeded in half drawing the long dagger at her waist. He hissed a warning and her eyes widened with recognition. The flash of steel vanished at her hip as she pushed the dagger back into its sheath, and she allowed him to draw her deeper into the gloom.

Swiftly he explained, keeping his voice low and ignoring the two puzzled serving girls who were now exchanging nervous glances. Zela's grasp of the situation was immediate and they moved back to the window table where they could continue to keep watch for Jayna. Zela called for ale for herself and another for Kananda, smiling broadly at the girl who brought the mugs as though all was well. Only when they were alone again did she attempt to fill in the gaps with detailed questions, still smiling as though this was just intimate talk after a surprise meeting between old friends.

It was now late afternoon and they had to wait for yet another long-drawn hour before Jayna finally appeared. Unfortunately Jayna did not walk past the Silver Blade where they hopefully waited. She approached instead from the second street which met at the intersection. Zela spotted her the moment she emerged from the junction, but Jayna was by then only a few paces away from the Green Fish. She was moving quickly and went directly inside.

Kananda and Zela stared helplessly at each other, and then Kananda began to curse. Zela silenced him and they continued to watch. Kananda toyed with the hilt of his sword. His impulse was to charge over there, but Zela held him in check. Her military training had taught her that blind, unthinking action rarely achieved the desired results.

Ten minutes passed.

“One of us must go over there,” Kananda insisted. “I can go through the back yard and enter through the latrine again.”

“And if the guards are waiting for you?”

Kananda half drew his sword. “Then I will fight my way out and bring Jayna with me. We cannot leave her there. We must do something.”

“We can wait. Something will happen to tell us what is going on.”

“Or nothing.” Kananda was now uncertain. “Perhaps I was wrong and there is no trap.”

“Then we can still afford to wait.”

Kananda had spent the entire day in a state of growing frustration, He was ready to explode and craving a fight, but he was still a Prince of Karakhor, trained and moulded by the old Warmaster Jahan, and his head still ruled his sword arm and his heart. He took Zena's counsel and continued to wait.

Time passed, and then abruptly there was a clattering roar in the sky above. A City Guard patrol car in its black livery with the silver sword of the empire emblazoned on its flanks appeared over the intersection in front of the Green Fish. The car hovered for a few seconds only and then began to descend, a controlled vertical drop into the centre of the street.

In the same moment, the doors of the inn were flung open and two large, black-leathered guardsmen stepped out, their swords drawn and ready. The slim figure of Jayna hung between them. Her cloak had been torn away, her face was bruised and bloodied, and she was barely conscious. Her captors dragged her roughly to the settling sky-car. The door was thrown open before the vehicle touched the road and Jayna was hurled inside.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

It was night when the aircraft carrying Raven and his companions landed at the Kaz-ar spacefield, and yet they descended into a blaze of lights and a swirl of activity that was as bright and busy as the middle of the day. Wheeled craft and groundworkers swarmed around ranks of huge troop transporters and smaller two-winged fighter air vehicles and around the sky-piercing spires of the sleek solar space cruisers. Weapons and fuel were being loaded amid a rush of last-minute maintenance and checks. After the calm of the long flight over the moonlit desert and the beauty of the night stars that were now harshly diminished, the onslaught on their senses was a sudden shock, and even Maryam could see that this awesome military armada was preparing for imminent war.

They landed on one of the side runways where a single sky-car and a junior Space Corps officer waited for them. The young officer drew himself to attention and made the formal open palm salute as they descended from their aircraft. Raven returned the courtesy, but his eyes were cold and hard.

“Where is the Sword Lord Karn?” he asked grimly.

“The Sword Lord Karn is dead.” The young man's face and voice were without expression. It was just a statement of fact.

“By the sword, or by assassination?” Raven's voice was dangerously soft.

“Neither, Commander. The eating sickness in his stomach killed him. I believe he bled to death through his own backside in his latrine.”

There was a moment of tense silence, and then Taron spoke quietly, but close to Raven's ear. “A knife blade up the arse could have done the job just as neat.”

Raven nodded almost imperceptibly, just the smallest sign that he had heard. His eyes were still searching the young officer's face.

“Your orders?” he demanded.

“To take all of you immediately to the Council of Twelve.”

Raven was thoughtful for a few more seconds. A dozen blades might have enforced the order but the boy was alone. Finally he shrugged and nodded his consent. He boarded the sky-car and the others crowded in behind him. Their young escort took the pilot seat and whirled them up into the sky.

It was a short but silent journey. Taron had voiced their only real doubt and there was nothing more to discuss. The three men knew that they would find the answers to all their questions soon enough.

However, Maryam's heart was thudding painfully and she wondered how the three Gheddans could remain so calm. Raven had killed Doran's man Uris, and now their own protector was dead. They had no friends on the Council of Twelve, and Doran was almost certainly in complete control. Whether Karn had died a natural death or been cruelly murdered seemed only an academic question. She knew enough about politics to realize that either way, their position must now be perilous and uncertain. The thoughts and fears whirled in her mind, and yet she could not see what other course Raven could have taken. His code of honour would not simply let him run away, and that at least she could understand.

Their pilot wove his way skillfully through the few towers surrounding the gigantic steel sword that marked the military heart and command centre of the city. He landed the sky-car in a corner of the vast parade ground, switched off the engines, and without speaking opened his cabin door and stepped lightly to the ground. He stood there calmly waiting.

Taron and Garl exchanged glances and shrugs. The sudden silence was ominous and a chill wind blew in through the open door, but the parade ground was empty with no blades waiting to surround them. They were reassured but still wary. Raven climbed down from the cabin and Maryam hurried to stay at his side. She was still fearful. Taron and Garl followed.

Their escort led off, again without comment, and they followed him to the massive squared complex block that housed the administrative centre of the empire. At this hour, there were no guards lining the broad stone steps, only the two on either side of the high entrance doors. One stayed rock-solid, one hand on his sword hilt, the other on his holstered lazer. The second guard moved to open the door and let them pass inside.

Their guide led them briskly along the high-ceilinged corridors, and soon they were back in the central Council chamber. Maryam remembered their last visit with vivid mental pictures of Raven fighting his bloody sword duel with Radd, and her mouth was dry. Her heart beat even faster, but as they entered the chamber, she saw that there were changes. There was no audience, and only three of the Council of Twelve were seated behind the black marble table. Most comforting of all, there were no naked swords on the table. At least this time Raven was not on trial.

Their escort stopped just inside the door, taking up the standard guard position. Raven continued directly to the raised central platform, stepped up and walked up to the black marble table. Taron and Garl stayed back, folding their arms across their chests and waiting. Maryam stayed with them.

Raven studied the three men on the opposite side of the table. Two faces were familiar. Doran, who sat in the centre, and an old, grizzle-faced veteran named Dral. The third was a stranger, a young but hard-faced Space Commander of his own rank, and almost certainly Karn's replacement.

Raven made the open palm salute and the formal statement of his presence.

“I am Raven, Sword Lord of Stronghold Raven, Space Commander First Class of the Gheddan Empire. I have been summoned by the Council.” He locked eyes with Doran, folded his arms, and waited.

Doran rose heavily to his feet, bracing both hands upon the table as he leaned forward. The tatters of his sword-slashed nostrils vibrated as he breathed and he returned Raven's direct gaze without blinking.

“Your return is well-timed, Commander. You will have noticed the war fleet assembling at Kaz-ar. The Sword Brigades are also under orders to prepare for a full scale assault. There have been changes on the Council, and we are now united in our determination to attack and conquer the enemy continent of Alpha. All of our orbiting battle stations are now in place. As soon as our final preparations are complete, Alpha will be defeated and destroyed. The power and the glory of the Gheddan Empire will at last be confirmed for all time.”

Doran paused, savouring the moment. He had worked long and hard to this end, and his face twisted into a smile. For he was now the head and heart of the Gheddan Empire, and that military glory, the final and lasting triumph of the Sword Empire, would be mostly his own.

Raven continued to watch Doran's face, but he was aware of the other two members of the Council who were also grinning. Dral seemed relaxed, but there was a tension within the newcomer, as though he inwardly hoped for some sort of confrontation.

The outcome of this summons still seemed to hang in the balance, and at last Raven asked softly, “And my orders?”

Doran chuckled and his ragged nostrils quivered. “There has been some discussion about that. The Council has decided that in view of the Alphan interest in the third planet, it may be best if that world can also be secured for the empire. It would be folly to leave a place of refuge where the Alphan High Command might escape with their deep range space ships. Or an otherworld base where they might launch some future attack.”

“You have explored the third planet.” Dral spoke for the first time. “You know the population centre where the Alphans have already made contact and made allies. You will return there and secure the planet for Ghedda.”

Raven understood. He was a threat, the one man whose loyalty to Karn might lead him to ask awkward questions, and yet there was no one of the twelve who would face the direct challenge of his sword. The new face on the Council was not another Radd, and they did not have a champion they could trust with the task between them. It made military sense to deny an escape route to Earth for the Alphans, and he was the one space commander they could happily spare for the task. With an effort, he kept his face straight and suppressed a smile.

“The officers you left behind are already preparing your ship,” Doran continued. “You will lead a conquest fleet of five ships back to the third planet and secure this city of Karakhor for the empire. You will leave as soon as the ships are fuelled and mustered.”