Domes of Fire Part 30

'We've noticed,' Tynian replied. 'The Elenes in western Astel are all convinced that Ayachin's returned.'

'Then you've heard of the one they call Sabre?' Zalasta asked.

'We ran across him a couple of times,' Stragen laughed. 'I don't think he poses much of a threat. He's an adolescent poseur.'

'He satisfies the needs of the western Astels, though,' Tynian added. 'They're not exactly what you'd call deep.'

'I've encountered them,' Zalasta said wryly. 'Kimear of Daconia and Baron Parok, his spokesman, are a bit more serious, though. Kimear was one of those men on horseback who emerge from time to time in Elene societies. He subdued the other two Elene Kingdoms in western Astel and founded one of those empires of a thousand years that spring up from time to time and promptly fall apart when the founder dies. The hero in Edam is Incetes-a bronze-age fellow who actually managed to hand to Cyrgai their first defeat. The one who does his talking for him calls himself Rebel. That's not his real name, of course. Political agitators usually go by a.s.sumed names. Ayachin, Kimear and Incetes appeal to the very simplest of Elene emotional responses-muscularity, primarily. I wouldn't offend you for the world, my friends, but you Elenes seem to like to break things and burn down other people's houses.'

'It's a racial flaw,' Ulath conceded.

'The Arjuni present us with slightly different problems,' Zalasta continued. 'They're members of the Tamul race, and their deep-seated urges are a bit more sophisticated. Tamuls don't want to rule the world, they just want to own it.' He smiled briefly at Oscagne. 'The Arjuni aren't very attractive as representatives of the race, though. Their hero is the fellow who invented the slave-trade.'

Mirtai's breath hissed sharply, and her hand went to her dagger.

'Is there some problem, Atana?' Oscagne asked her mildly.

'I've had experience with the slave-traders of Arjuna, Oscagne,' she replied shortly. 'Someday I hope to have more, and I won't be a child this time.' Sparhawk realised that Mirtai had never told them the story of how she had become a slave.

'This Arjuni hero's of a somewhat more recent vintage than the others,' Zalasta continued. 'He was of the twelfth century. His name was Shesian.'

'We've heard of him,' Engessa said bleakly. 'His slavers used to raid the training camps of Atan children. We've more or less persuaded the Arjuni not to do that any more.'

'That sounds ominous,' Baroness Melidere said.

'It was an absolute disaster, Baroness,' Oscagne told her. 'Some Arjuni slavers made a raid into Atan in the seventeenth century, and an imperial administrator got carried away by an excess of righteous indignation. He authorised the Atans to mount a punitive expedition into Arjuna.'

'Our people still sing songs about it,' Engessa said in an almost dreamy fashion.

'Bad?' Emban asked Oscagne.

'Unbelievable,' Oscagne replied. 'The silly a.s.s who authorised the expedition didn't realise that when you command the Atans to do something, you have to specifically prohibit certain measures. The fool simply turned them loose. They actually hanged the King of Arjuna himself and then chased all his subjects into the southern jungles. It took us nearly two hundred years to coax the Arjuni down out of the trees. The economic upheaval was a disaster for the entire continent.'

'These events are somewhat more recent,' Zalasta noted. 'The Arjuni have always been slavers, and Skeguan was only one of several operating in northern Arjuna. He was an organiser more than anything. He established the markets in Cynesga and codified the bribes that protect the slave-routes. The peculiar thing we face in Arjuna is that the spokesman's more important than the hero. His name is Scarpa, and he's a brilliant and dangerous man.'

'What about Tamul itself?' Emban asked, 'and Atan?'

'We both seem to be immune to the disease, your Grace,' Oscagne replied. 'It's probably because Tamuls are too egotistical for hero worship and because the Atans of antiquity were all so much shorter than their descendants that modern Atans overlook them.' He smiled rather slyly at Engessa. 'The rest of the world's breathlessly awaiting the day when the first Atan tops ten feet. I think that's the ultimate goal of their selective breeding campaign.' He looked at Zalasta. 'Your information's far more explicit than ours, learned one,' he complimented the Styric. 'The best efforts of the empire have unearthed only the sketchiest of details about these people.'

'I have different resources at my disposal, Excellency,' Zalasta replied. 'These figures from antiquity, however, would hardly be of any real concern. The Atans could quite easily deal with any purely military insurrection, but this isn't a totally military situation. Someone's been winnowing through the darker aspects of human imagination and spinning the horrors of folk-lore out of thin air. There are vampires and werewolves, ghouls, Ogres and once even a thirty-foot giant. The officials shrug these sightings off as superst.i.tious nonsense, but the common people of Tamuli are in a state of abject terror. We can't be certain of the reality of any of these things, but when you mingle monsters with Trolls, Dawn-men and Cyrgai, you have total demoralisation. Then, to push the whole thing over the edge, the forces of nature have been harnessed as well. There have been t.i.tanic thunderstorms, tornadoes, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions and even isolated eclipses. The common people of Tamuli have become so fearful that they flee from rabbits and flocks of sparrows. There's no real focus to these incidents. They simply occur at random, and since there's no real plan behind them, there's no way to predict when and where they'll occur. That's what we're up against my friends-a continent-wide campaign of terror-part reality, part illusion, part genuine magic. If it isn't countered-and very, very soon-the people will go mad with fear. The empire will collapse, and the terror will reign supreme.'

'And what was the bad news you had for us, Zalasta?' Vanion asked him.

Zalasta smiled briefly. 'You are droll, Lord Vanion,' he said. 'You may be able to gather more information this afternoon, my friends,' he told them all. 'You've been invited to attend the session of the Thousand. Your visit here is quite significant from a political point of view, and-although the council seldom agrees about anything-there's a strong undercurrent of opinion that we may have a common cause with you in this matter.' He paused, then sighed. 'I think you should be prepared for a certain amount of antagonism,' he cautioned. 'There's a reactionary faction in the council that begins to foam at the mouth whenever someone even mentions the word "Elene". I'm sure they'll try to provoke you.'

'Something's happening that I don't understand, Sparhawk,' Danae murmured quietly a bit later. Sparhawk had retired to one corner of Sephrenia's little garden with one of Vanion's Styric scrolls and had been trying to puzzle out the Styric alphabet. Danae had found him there and had climbed up into his lap.

'I thought you were all-wise,' he said. 'Isn't that supposed to be one of your characteristics?'

'Stop that. Something's terribly wrong here.'

'Why don't you talk with Zalasta about it? He's one of your worshipers, isn't he?'

'Whatever gave you that idea?'

'I thought you and he and Sephrenia grew up together in the same village.'

'What's that got to do with it?'

'I just a.s.sumed that the villagers all worshipped you. Its sort of logical that you'd choose to be born in a village of your own adherents.'

'You don't understand Styrics at all, do you? That's the most tedious idea I've ever heard of-a whole village of people who all worship the same G.o.d? How boring.'

'Elenes do it.'

'Elenes eat pigs too.'

'What have you got against pigs?' She shuddered. 'Who does Zalasta worship if he's not one of your adherents?'

'He hasn't chosen to tell us, and it's terribly impolite to ask.'

'How did he get to be a member of the Thousand then? I thought you had to be a high priest to qualify for membership.'

'He isn't a member. He doesn't want to be. He advises them.' She pursed her lips. 'I really shouldn't say this, Sparhawk, but don't expect exalted wisdom from the council. High priests are devout, but that doesn't require wisdom. Some of the Thousand are frighteningly stupid.'

'Can you get any kind of clue about which G.o.d might be at the bottom of all these disturbances?'

'No. Whoever it is doesn't want any of the rest of us to know his ident.i.ty, and there are ways we can conceal ourselves. About all I can say is that he's not Styric. Pay very close attention at the meeting this afternoon, Sparhawk. My temperament's Styric, and there may be things I'd overlook just because I'm so used to them.'

'What do you want me to look for?'

'I don't know. Use your rudimentary intuition. Look for false notes, lapses, any kind of clue hinting at the fact that someone's not entirely what he seems to be.'

'Do you suspect that there might be some member of the Thousand working for the other side?'

'I didn't say that. I just said that there's something wrong. I'm getting another of those premonitions like the one I had at Kotyk's house. Something's not what it's supposed to be here, and I can't for the life of me tell what it is. Try to find out what it is, Sparhawk. We really need to know.'

The council of the Thousand met in a stately marble building at the very centre of Sarsos. It was an imposing, even intimidating building that shouldered its way upward arrogantly. Like all public buildings, it was totally devoid of any warmth or humanity. It had wide, echoing marble corridors and huge bronze doors designed to make people feel tiny and insignificant. The actual meetings took place in a large, semicircular hall with tier upon tier of marble benches stairstepping up the sides. There were ten of those tiers naturally, and the seats on each tier were evenly s.p.a.ced. It was all very logical. Architects are usually logical, since their buildings tend to collapse if they are not.

At Sephrenia's suggestion, Sparhawk and the other Elenes wore simple white robes to avoid those unpleasant a.s.sociations in the minds of Styrics when they are confronted by armoured Elenes. The knights, however, wore chain-mail and swords under their robes. The chamber was about half-full, since at any given time a part of the council was off doing other things. The members of the Thousand sat or strolled about talking quietly with each other. Some moved purposefully among their colleagues, talking earnestly. Others laughed and joked. Not a few were sleeping. Zalasta led them to the front of the chamber where chairs had been placed for them in a kind of semicircle.

'I have to take my seat,' Sephrenia told them quietly. 'Please don't take immediate action if someone insults you. There's several thousand years of resentment built up in this chamber, and some of it's bound to spill over.'

She crossed the chamber to sit on one of the marble benches. Zalasta stepped to the centre of the room and stood silently, making no attempt to call the a.s.semblage to order. The traditional courtesies were obscure here. Gradually, the talking tapered off, and the Council members took their seats.

'If it please the Council,' Zalasta said in Styric, 'we are honoured today by the presence of important guests.'

'It certainly doesn't please me,' one member retorted. These 'guests' appear to be Elenes for the most part, and I'm not all that interested in hob-n.o.bbing with pig-eaters.'

'This promises to be moderately unpleasant,' Stragen murmured. 'Our Styric cousins seem to be as capable of boorishness as we are.'

Zalasta ignored the ill-mannered speaker and continued. 'Sarsos is subject to the Tamul Empire,' he reminded them, 'and we benefit enormously from that relationship.'

'And the Tamuls make sure we pay for those benefits,' another member called.

Zalasta ignored that as well. 'I'm sure you'll all join with me in welcoming First Secretary Oscagne, the Chief of the Imperial Foreign Service.'

'I don't know what makes you so sure about that, Zalasta,' someone shouted with a raucous laugh.

Oscagne rose to his feet. 'I'm overwhelmed by this demonstration of affection,' he said dryly in perfect Styric. There were cat-calls from the tiers of seats. The catcalls died quite suddenly when Engessa rose to his feet and stood with his arms folded across his chest. He did not even bother to scowl at the unruly councillors.

'That's better,' Oscagne said. 'I'm glad that the legendary courtesy of the Styric people has finally a.s.serted itself. If I may, I'll briefly introduce the members of our party, and then we'll place an urgent matter before you for your consideration.' He briefly introduced Patriarch Emban. An angry mutter swept through the chamber.

'That's directed at the Church, your Grace,' Stragen told him, 'not at you personally.'

When Oscagne introduced Ehlana, one council member on the top tier whispered a remark to those seated near him which elicited a decidedly vulgar laugh. Mirtai came to her feet like an uncoiling spring, her hands darting to her sheathed daggers. Engessa said something sharply to her in the Tamul tongue. she shook her head. Her eyes were blazing and her jaw was set. She drew a dagger. Mirtai may not have understood Styric, but she did understand the implications of that laugh.

Sparhawk rose to his feet. 'It's my place to respond, Mirtai,' he reminded her.

'You will not defer to me?'

'Not this time, no. I'm sorry, but it's a sort of formal occasion, so we should observe the niceties.' He turned to look up at the insolent Styric in the top row. 'Would you care to repeat what you just said a little louder, neighbour?' he asked in Styric. 'If it's so funny, maybe you should share it with us.'

'Well, what do you know,' the fellow sneered, 'a talking dog.'

Sephrenia rose to her feet. 'I call upon the Thousand to observe the traditional moment of silence,' she declared in Styric.

'Who died?' the loud-mouth demanded.

'You did, Camriel,' she told him sweetly, 'so our grief will not be excessive. This is Prince Sparhawk, the man who destroyed the Elder G.o.d Azash, and you've just insulted his wife. Did you want the customary burial-a.s.suming that we can find enough of you to commit to the earth when he's done with you?'

Camriel's jaw had dropped, and his face had gone dead white. The rest of the Council also visibly shrank back.

'His name still seems to carry some weight,' Ulath noted to Tynian.

'Evidently. Our insolent friend up there seems to be having long, gloomy thoughts about mortality.'

'Councilor Camriel,' Sparhawk said quite formally, let us not interrupt the deliberations of the Thousand with a purely personal matter. I'll look you up after the meeting, and we can make the necessary arrangements.'

'What did he say?' Ehlana whispered to Stragen.

'The usual, your Majesty. I expect that Councillor Camriel's going to remember a pressing engagement on the other side of the world at any moment now.'

'Will the Council permit this barbarian to threaten me?' Camriel quavered.

A silvery-haired Styric on the far side of the room laughed derisively. 'You personally insulted a state visitor, Camriel,' he declared. 'The Thousand has no obligation to defend you under those circ.u.mstances. Your G.o.d has been very lax in your instruction. You're a boorish, loud-mouthed imbecile. We'll be well rid of you.'

'How dare you speak to me so, Michan?'

'You seem dazzled by the fact that one of the G.o.ds is slightly fond of you, Camriel,' Michan drawled, 'and you overlook the fact that we all share that peculiar eminence here. My G.o.d loves me at least as much as your G.o.d loves you.' Michan paused. 'Probably more, actually. I'd guess that your G.o.d's having second thoughts about you at the moment. You must be a terrible embarra.s.sment to him. But you're wasting valuable time. As soon as this meeting adjourns, I expect that Prince Sparhawk will come looking for you-with a knife. You do have a knife some place nearby, don't you, your Highness?' Sparhawk grinned and opened his robe slightly to reveal his sword-hilt.

'Splendid, old fellow,' Michan said. 'I'd have been glad to lend you mine, but a man always works better with his own equipment. Haven't you left yet, Camriel? If you plan to live long enough to see the sun go down, you'd best get cracking.' Councillor Camriel fled.

'What happened?' Ehlana demanded impatiently.

'If we choose to look at it in a certain light, we could consider the Councillor's flight to be a form of apology,' Stragen told her.

'We do not accept apologies,' Mirtai said implacably. 'May I chase him down and kill him, Ehlana?'

'Why don't we just let him run for a while, Mirtai?' the queen decided.

'How long?'

'How long would you say he's likely to run, Milord?' Ehlana asked Stragen.

'The rest of his life probably, my queen.'

'That sounds about right to me.'

The response of the Thousand to Zalasta's description of the current situation was fairly predictable, and the fact that all of the speeches showed evidence of much polishing hinted strongly that there had been few surprises in his presentation. The Thousand seemed to be divided into three factions. Predictably, there were a fair number of councillors who took the position that the Styrics could defend themselves and that they had no real reason to become involved. Styrics had strong suspicions where Elene promises were concerned, since Elene rulers tended to forget promises made to Styrics after a crisis had pa.s.sed.

A second faction was more moderate. They pointed out the fact that the crisis here concerned the Tamuls rather than the Elenes, and that the presence of a small band of Church Knights from Eosia was really irrelevant. As the silvery-haired Michan pointed out, 'The Tamuls may not be our friends in every sense of the word, but at least they're not our enemies. Let's not overlook the fact that their Atans keep the Astels, the Edomish and the Dacites from our doorstep.' Michan was highly respected, and his opinion carried great weight in the council.

There was a third faction as well, a vocal minority so rabidly anti-Elene that they even went so far as to suggest that the interests of Styric.u.m might be better served by an alliance with the perpetrators of the outrages. Their speeches were not really intended to be taken seriously. The speakers had merely seized this opportunity to list long catalogues of grievances and to unleash diatubes of hatred and vituperation.

'This is starting to get tiresome,' Stragen finally said to Sparhawk, rising to his feet.

'What are you going to do?'

'Do? Why, I'm going to respond, old boy.' He stepped to the centre of the floor and stood resolutely in the face of their shouts and curses. The noise gradually subsided, more because those causing it had run out of things to say than because anyone was really curious about what this elegant blond Elene had to say.

'i'm delighted to discover that all men are equally contemptible,' Stragen told them, his rich voice carrying to every corner of the hall. 'I had despaired of ever finding a flaw in the Styric character, but I find that you're like all other men when you're gathered together into a mob. The outspoken and unconcealed bigotry you have revealed here this afternoon has lifted my despair and filled my heart with joy. I swoon with delight to find this cesspool of festering nastiness lurking in the Styric soul, since it proves once and for all that men are all the same, regardless of race.' There were renewed shouts of protest.

The protests were laced with curses this time. Once again Stragen waited.

'I'm disappointed in you, my dear brothers,' he told them finally. 'An Elene child of seven could curse more inventively. Is this really the best the combined wisdom of Styric.u.m can come up with? Is 'Elene b.a.s.t.a.r.d' really all you know how to say? It doesn't even particularly insult me, because in my case it happens to be true.' He looked around, his expression urbane and just slightly superior. 'I'm also a thief and a murderer, and I have a large number of unsavoury habits. I've committed crimes for which there aren't even names, and you think your pallid, petty denunciations could distress me in any way? Does anyone have a meaningful accusation before I examine your failings?'

'You've enslaved us!' someone bellowed.

'Not me, old boy,' Stragen drawled. 'You couldn't give me a slave. You have to feed them, you know, even when they're not working. Now then, let's step right along here. We've established the fact that I'm a thief and a murderer and a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, but what are you? Would the word 'snivellers' startle you? You Styrics whine a great deal. You've carefully stored up an inventory of the abuses you've suffered in the past several thousand years and you take a perverted pleasure in sitting in dark, smelly corners regurgitating them all, chewing them over and over like mouthfuls of stale vomit. You try to blame Elenes for all your troubles. Does it surprise you to discover that I feel no guilt about the plight of the Styrics? I have more than enough guilt for things I have done without beating my breast about things that happened a thousand years before I was born. Frankly, my friends, all these martyred expressions bore me. Don't you ever get tired of feeling sorry for yourselves? I'm now going to offend you even more by getting right to the point. If you want to snivel, do it in your own time. We're offering you the opportunity to join with us in facing a common enemy. It's just a courtesy, you understand, because we don't really need you. Keep that firmly in view. We don't need you. Actually, you'll enc.u.mber us. I've heard a few intellectual cripples here suggest an alliance with our enemy. What makes you think he'd want you as allies? The Elene peasantry would probably be overjoyed if you tried, though, because that would give them an excuse to slaughter Styrics from here to the straits of Thalesia. Joining with us won't ensure a lessening of Elene prejudice, but joining with our enemies will almost guarantee that ten years from now there won't be a live Styric in any Elene kingdom in the world.'

He scratched thoughtfully at his chin and looked around. 'I guess that more or less covers everything,' he said. 'Why don't you talk it over amongst yourselves? My friends and I will be leaving for Matherion tomorrow. You might want to let us know what you've decided before we go. That's entirely up to you, of course. Words couldn't begin to express our indifference to the decisions of such an insignificant people.' He turned and offered his arm to Ehlana. 'Shall we leave, your Majesty?' he suggested.

'What did you say to them, Stragen?'

'I insulted them,' he shrugged, 'on as many levels as I possibly could. Then I threatened them with racial extinction and then invited them to sign on as allies.'

'All in one speech?'