The Shasht War (29 page)

"Thank you, dear mother, I will repay this favor, I promise. And you are doing the right thing. We are doing what Aeswiren would want, I assure you."

"So you say, but how can you be sure that your friend the Erv is telling the truth about the Emperor's wishes?"

"The Erv of Blanteer can be counted on, Mother. He is the soul of honor."

"He had better be, or we'll all wind up with our tongues tied to some red hot steel."

With that the meeting was ended. Tekwen Gsekk withdrew, and Janbur and Thru prepared to return in secret to the cellar. Thru donned a cloak with a hood and covered his face with a veil. If they were seen, he would hope to be taken for nothing more than a woman outside of the purdah line in the house.

From Tekwen's private rooms on the first floor, they negotiated their way through the bulk of the big house. The wine cellar lay two floors down, accessible only by a stair in the butler's quarters.

They used the lady's gallery on the west side of the house. Only Lady Tekwen used these rooms, so they were safe from prying servants' eyes. Furnished with the treasures of centuries, the rooms contained polished wood furniture, walls painted with scenes of natural beauty, and large rugs with complex patterns. Through the windows along the western side, Thru could see the ominous hulk of the pyramid, where it dominated the skyline.

"The pyramid has not always been there, then?"

"No, my friend, it was built by Kadawak. He announced the coming of the Great God. It changed everything here. Before then the old country, old Shashta, was a different land. Very poor, of course, our Empire was only a quarter of the size of what it is now. We were constantly at war with our neighbors, and that was expensive, too. But we never won the wars, nobody really ever won, and that was both a curse and a blessing."

Janbur sighed. "But Kadawak was unstoppable, and he conquered all our rivals and crowned himself Emperor."

"So then there was peace?"

"No. There has always been war. We are a warlike people. Rebellions are frequent. Our armies themselves sometimes try to install a new Emperor, usually their own commanding officer. So there have been wars in every reign, for five hundred years."

He recalled something Janbur had said to his mother.

"You have mentioned a 'shadow.' I think you called it the Hidden One."

Janbur gazed at him for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether to speak or not.

"Yes, that began with Kadawak, it is said. Though others say that the Hidden One was already at work in the days of the Old Kingdom. Some believe that the Hidden One is the curse our people will always bear, but come, we must not speak of this here."

For a moment longer Thru stared thoughtfully over the rooftops to the pyramid. The hulking mass seemed to brood in the middle of the great city.

They descended the stairs with great caution. The servants had been kept in the dark about the visitors to the wine cellar. Only the house butler knew, since the wine cellar was part of his purview. But old Guyad, the butler, was trustworthy. He would not even tell his wife. Of course, you couldn't keep anything a complete secret from servants, but Janbur had taken precautions to minimize the effect of the mots' presence. Their food, for instance, was all brought in on wagons that went to the butler's yard and was unloaded by his warehouse slaves. These slaves were blind and mute, quite common in warehouses and treasure vaults. They sensed only that there was a strange smell in the wine cellar.

Janbur's friend Chemli of Weald supplied the food from his own kitchens, at Weald House, which lay just on the other side of Shalba Park. The extra rations were not enough to draw any questions.

Having goods unloaded into the cellars, either that of wine or dry goods, was a very common thing, and so the extra cart carrying bread and water did not cause rumors. The servants knew something was amiss, but since none had entered the wine cellar, they had no suspicions as to what was down there.

Better yet, of course, the priests had kept the loss of the "monkeys" a complete secret. Such a loss of prestige could not be borne. So while they mounted a furious search of the city, they claimed that it was to find a renegade priest, wanted for seditious preaching of the Old Gods. Thus, even while gangs of Red Tops turned over the hovels of the poor from Zufa to Kashank, the abduction of the captives was not revealed.

The priests had long been aware of the seditious nobility, so they turned to the wilder young nobles. They investigated, but found nothing. A few rumors floated. Arrests were made, and wellborn youngsters were tortured with the rack, the screws and the wooden boot, but they knew nothing of any real substance.

Fortunately, no one in Janbur's group of friends was taken. Janbur and his group worked quietly in the background, helping refugees escape persecution, rather than writing seditious samizdat. They were careful and kept their activities secret from even their closest friends. And so they were invisible to the Red Tops scouring the city.

Meanwhile the news spread that the Gold Tops had delayed the sacrifice of the "monkeys" because of a bad alignment between the moon, the Red Star, and the planet Zanth.

And yet, despite the success of their venture, Janbur would not leave the mots in his mother's cellar for even one more night. The Hand of Aeswiren was also searching for them, and the Hand was skilled in finding those it wanted. Even the mention of a wagon leaving the temple in the night at an odd hour could lead the Hand to the mots. So that night the mots would be moved. Out of the Shalba, across the park, and into a suburban estate.

They tiptoed down the back stairs to the ground floor, where they faced the greatest danger of exposure to the servants. To reach the butler's back door, they would have to pass close to the kitchen. They took the passageway that ran past the pantries and the granary. Two muscular young black cats got up and sauntered away as they approached.

At the end of the passage a stair led to an outside gate and other passages to the right and left. They turned right and entered a passage frequently used by slaves coming up from the kitchen garden.

At the far end was the back door to the butler's quarters, and Janbur had the key. Halfway along they heard figures moving behind a door to their right. The door handle turned.

Frantically Janbur pulled open another door and pushed Thru inside a narrow room with large windows and good light. Astonished, Thru saw three looms set up with work on them. A man bent over the nearest loom, working on a red rug.

"Is that you, Ijji?" said the man, without turning around. "Time for some tea, I'd say."

Janbur went up to his shoulder and spoke quietly.

"It is I, Janbur. How goes your weaving, Old Meethiwat?"

Old Meethiwat was a little surprised by Janbur's presence, and when he looked up Janbur stepped close to him so that he would not see Thru.

"Oh, it goes well enough, lord. Thank you for visiting."

Janbur studied the completed part of the rug for a moment.

"An old Shashta pattern?"

"Aye, young master, it's called 'Birdsong.'"

Behind him Thru heard the receding footsteps of the men. He took a step forward and peered at the finished part of the rug, an interesting geometric pattern of colors ranging from deep red through orange to ocher and dusky yellow. But it was the process that really drew his eye. The looms, with heddle and shedding rods, were the same used in the Land. The sight of these looms filled him with amazement, and then sorrow for the work he had been forced to abandon.

Janbur patted the weaver's shoulder.

"I know that my mother is looking forward to seeing this carpet when it is done."

"Oh, that means so much to an old weaver. Thank you, young master Janbur."

Old Meethiwat went back to his work without appearing to notice Thru's existence. More footsteps went past outside in the hallway and diminished in the opposite direction.

Now Janbur put his head out, listened carefully, and signaled Thru to follow while closing the door quietly behind them. They hurried down the passage to the butler's door. The skeleton key went in without difficulty, but it would not turn easily. Janbur struggled.

Now they heard a door slam and footsteps in the hallway.

Janbur tried to force the key, but it would not budge.

"Let me try," whispered Thru.

Janbur hesitated for a moment then took his hands off the key. Thru took hold, tried the lock, pulled the key back a little, and tried again.

The footsteps were almost on them.

The lock turned, the door opened, Janbur pushed him inside, and they almost fell over in the entrance. Janbur whirled around, closed the door, and leaned against it while sweat ran from his brow.

They heard footsteps pass the door and recede into the distance.

"That was too close, my friend," said Janbur in a whisper.

They were in a small, dark hallway. Two more doors lay before them. They tried one, it opened after a struggle, but the passage beyond was blocked with sacks of roots. The other door opened onto a room where cooking oils were stored. Moving very quietly, they reached the stair leading down to the wine cellar. The door opened more easily to the keys, and they were safe once more.

"What do you mean when you say 'the Hidden One'?"

Janbur hesitated again before speaking, and then whispered.

"It is not known what it is, but 'tis said there lies a shadow on the pyramid, and a fell demon from ancient times dwells there unseen."

Thru recounted what he had seen inside the pyramid. The room full of Gold Tops, the sudden hush, and the opened door above. The solitary figure hidden in the shadows.

Janbur was awed.

"Long have we suspected something like this. The Gold Tops keep this secret from the world, but from what you say, this being rules them from its hiding place!"

"And the ordinary people do not know?"

"It is no more than legend. And I think what you saw shows that this is the force behind the war against your people. I think it began in Norgeeben's time, a hundred years ago."

"How could it have happened?" Thru wondered how this calamity had occurred without anyone in the land ever knowing.

"I have heard it said that a ship called the
Goodventure
returned with claims of finding a lush land on the far side of the great ocean. The crew died on the altars for blasphemy, and the ship was broken up. The whole story was suppressed, but not completely."

Thru nodded to himself. A ship had scouted the Land and not been seen. It could happen. The men were great sailors, and their ships were far superior to those of the mots. But he also knew something else. This being in the pyramid was known to the Assenzi. They had mentioned some hidden hand behind the war. Utnapishtim had a name for it, but Thru had forgotten what it was. This was the being that the Assenzi had fashioned their message for.

Had he not received it yet?

Janbur clapped him on the shoulder.

"My friend, you have brought us great news. If you will repeat what you have told me, then it could help our cause enormously."

"I would be glad to."

"Good, then I will gather a group of influential men to hear you speak of this being in the pyramid."

They entered the cellar to join the other mots. Thru recounted what he'd seen in the upper house and the conversation with the Lady Tekwen.

Rueful chuckles erupted from some of them when he described the lady's insulting words.

"But she apologized. That shows they can learn," said Ter-Saab with a sardonic grin.

"Thank you, my dear," said the Emperor as the lesson came to an end. "I think I have a better idea now of these irregular verbs."

"If you remember that the 'dolo' suffix often changes to the 'lolo' suffix in the plurals, then you'll usually be safe."

"Indeed! Tricky those little endings, eh? I wonder if I'll ever be good enough to speak it."

"Oh, yes, I think you will. You have worked very hard, Your Majesty. I can see how it is when you make an effort. Your intensity is tremendous, even frightening."

He smiled. "If they came from anyone else, I would take such words as flattery and be offended, but with you, my dear, I know they are meant sincerely."

He had encouraged her, from the beginning, to be open and frank with him in all things.

"No deceits with me, dear, d'you understand? You do not serve me by lying to me."

She had taken him at his word, and they had become good friends.

"I am having a small meal of figs and cheese. Would you like to join me?"

As always he held to the smallest courtesies. He was like this with his guards, with soldiers, with everyone, even his enemies. No wonder so many would willingly die for him.

"I would be honored, Your Majesty."

"Yes, yes, but are you hungry? Would you like something more substantial?"

"Oh, no, Your Majesty, whatever you are having will be more than adequate."

The small eunuch, who served as Aeswiren's personal slave, brought in a tray of figs, cheese, flat bread, olive oil, sesame paste, and a pitcher of weak beer.

While they ate they discussed Filek's plans.

"This 'micro-scope' that your father is working on has tremendous potential. He sent me a copy of the plans, and I studied them last night. Wonderful work, I am more convinced than ever that I did the right thing by sending him back to the hospital."

"My father is absolutely in love with his work. It is all that he has dreamed of. He prays for your health every morning, Your Majesty."

"That is good of him. Well, he has already gone far beyond what I might have expected. Apparently this microscope is a success. He sees a world at the level of the very, very small, which he says is far more complicated than anything he had ever imagined."

"Oh, Your Majesty, he came home a week ago singing about the 'small seed' that he has imagined as the source of infection. He had finally seen them. I have seen them. It is a wonderful sight."

"Good, I had hoped for this. Tell me more. I have arranged for a demonstration of the device, but it will not be until tomorrow. I have unavoidable engagements until then."