Silverthorn Part 26

Jimmy added, "There is one place we haven't looked." Arutha said, "Inside that building." Martin said, "Then there's only one thing to do." Jimmy hated to hear himself say, "One of us must get inside and take a look."

SEVENTEEN - Warlord

The cell stank of damp straw.

Pug stirred and found his hands tethered to the wall with needra hide chains. The skin of the stolid, six-legged Tsurani beast of burden had been treated to almost the hardness of steel and was anch.o.r.ed firmly to the wall. Pug's head ached from the encounter with the strange magic-disrupting device. But there was another irritation. He fought off his mental sluggishness and looked at the manacles. As he began to incant a spell that would cause the chains to change to insubstantial gases, a sudden wrongness occurred. He could put no other name to it but a wrongness wrongness. His spell would not work. Pug sat back against the wall, knowing the cell had been blanketed by some ensorcellment neutralizing any other magic. Of course, he thought: how else does one keep a magician in jail?

Pug looked about the room. It was a dark pit of a cell with only a little light coming through a small barred opening high in the door. Something small and busy bustled through the straw near Pug's foot. He kicked and it scurried off. The walls were damp, so he judged that he and his companions were belowground. He had no way of telling how long they had been here, nor had he any idea where they were: they could be anywhere upon the world of Kelewan.

Meecham and Dominic were chained to the wall opposite Pug, while to his right Hochopepa was likewise bound. Pug knew at once that the Empire rested upon a fine balancing point for the Warlord to risk bringing harm to Hochopepa. To capture a denounced renegade was one thing, but to incarcerate a Great One of the Empire was another. By rights, a Great One should be immune to the dictates of the Warlord. Besides the Emperor, a Great One was the only possible challenge to the Warlord's rule. Kamatsu had been correct. The Warlord was nearing some major ploy or offensive in the Game of the Council, for the imprisonment of Hochopepa showed contempt for any possible opposition.

Meecham groaned and slowly looked up. "My head," he mumbled. Finding himself chained, he tugged experimentally at his bonds. "Well," he said, looking at Pug, "what now?"

Pug looked back and shook his head. "We wait."

It was a long wait, perhaps three or four hours. When someone appeared, it was suddenly. Abruptly the door had swung open and a black-robed magician entered, followed by a soldier of the Imperial Whites. Hochopepa nearly spat as he said, "Ergoran! Are you mad? Release me at once!"

The magician motioned for the soldier to release Pug. He said to Hochopepa, "I do what I do for the Empire. You consort with our enemies, fat one. I will bring word to the a.s.sembly of your duplicity when we have finished with our punishment of this false magician."

Pug was quickly herded outside and the magician named Ergoran said, "Milamber, your display at the Imperial Games a year ago has earned you some respect-enough to ensure you do not wreak any more havoc upon those around you." Two soldiers fastened rare and costly metal bracelets upon his wrists. "The wards placed in this dungeon prevent any spell from operating within. Once you are outside the dungeon, these bracelets will cancel your powers." He motioned for the guards to bring Pug and one pushed him from behind.

Pug knew better than to waste time on Ergoran. Of all those magicians called the Warlord's pets, he had been among the most rabid. He was one of the few magicians who believed that the a.s.sembly should be an arm of the ruling body of the Empire, the High Council. It was supposed by some who knew him that Ergoran's ultimate goal was to see the a.s.sembly become the High Council. It had been rumored that while the hot-tempered Almecho had publicly ruled, as often as not Ergoran had been the one behind him deciding the policy of the War Party.

A long flight of stairs brought Pug into sunlight. After the darkness of the cell he was blinded for a moment. As he was pushed along through the courtyard of some immense building, his eyes quickly adjusted. He was taken up a broad flight of stairs, and as he climbed, Pug looked over his shoulder. He could see enough landmarks to know where he was. He saw the river Gagajin, which ran from the mountains called the High Wall down to the city of Jamar. It was the major north-south thoroughfare for the Empire's central provinces. Pug was in the Holy City itself, Kentosani, the capital of the Empire of Tsuranuanni. And from the dozens of white-armored guards, he knew he was in the Warlord's palace.

Pug was pushed along through a long hall until he reached a central chamber. The stone walls ended, and a rigid, painted wood-and-hide door was slid aside. A personal council chamber was where the Warlord of the Empire chose to interrogate his prisoner.

Another magician stood near the center of the room, waiting upon the pleasure of a man who sat reading a scroll. The second magician was one Pug knew only slightly, Elgahar. Pug realized he could expect no aid here, even for Hochopepa, for Elgahar was Ergoran's brother; magic talent had run deep in their family. Elgahar had always seemed to take his lead from his brother.

The man sitting upon a pile of cushions was of middle years, wearing a white robe with a single golden band tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the neck and sleeves. Remembering Almecho, the last Warlord, Pug couldn't think of a more striking contrast. This man, Axantucar, was the ant.i.thesis of his uncle in appearance. While Almecho had been a bullnecked, stocky man, a warrior in his manner, this man looked more like a scholar or teacher. His wire-thin body made him appear the ascetic. His features were almost delicate. Then he lifted his gaze up from the parchment he had been reading and Pug could see the resemblance: this man, like his uncle, had the same mad hunger for power in his eyes.

Slowly putting away his scroll, the Warlord said, "Milamber, you show courage, if not prudence, in returning. You will of course be executed, but before we have you hung, we would like to know one thing: why have you returned?"

"Upon my homeworld a power grows, a dark and evil presence that seeks to advance its cause, and that cause is the destruction of my homeland."

The Warlord seemed interested and motioned for Pug to continue. Pug told all he knew, completely and without embellishment or exaggeration. "Through magic means I have determined that this thing is of Kelewan; somehow the fate of both worlds are again intertwined."

When he was finished, the Warlord said, "You spin an interesting tale." Ergoran appeared to brush aside Pug's story, but Elgahar looked genuinely troubled. The Warlord went on, "Milamber, it is truly a shame you were taken from us during the betrayal. Had you remained, we might have found employment for you as a storyteller. A great power of darkness, aborning from some forgotten recess within our Empire. What a wonderful tale." The man's smile vanished and he leaned forward, elbow upon knee, as he looked at Pug. "Now, to the truth. This shabby nightmare you spin is but a weak attempt to frighten me into ignoring your true reasons for returning. The Blue Wheel Party and its allies are on the verge of collapse in the High Council. That is why you return, for those who counted you as ally before are desperate, knowing the utter domination of the War Party to be all but a fact. You and the fat one are again in league with those who betrayed the Alliance for War during the invasion of your homeworld. You fear the new order of things we represent. Within days I shall announce the end of the High Council, and you have come to thwart that event, true? I don't know what you have in mind, but we shall have the truth from you, if not now, then soon. And you shall name those who stand arrayed against us.

"And we will have the means of your return. Once the Empire is secure under my rule, then shall we return to your world and quickly do what should have been done under my uncle. "

Pug looked from face to face and knew the truth. Pug had met and spoken with Rodric, the mad King. The Warlord was not as mad as the King had been, but there was no doubt that he was not entirely sane. And behind him stood one who betrayed little, but just enough, for Pug to understand. Ergoran was the power to be feared here, for he was the true genius behind the dominance of the War Party. It would be he who would rule in Tsuranuanni, perhaps, someday, even openly.

A messenger arrived and bowed before the Warlord, handing him a parchment. The Warlord read quickly, then said, "I must go to the council. Inform the Inquisitor I require his services the fourth hour of the night. Guards, return this one to his cell." As the guards pulled Pug about by his chain, the Warlord said, "Think on this, Milamber. You may die slowly or quickly, but you will die. The choice is yours. Either way, we shall have the truth from you eventually."

Pug watched as Dominic entered his trance. Pug had told his companions of the Warlord's reaction, and after Hochopepa had raged on for a time, the fat magician had lapsed into silence. Like others of the black robe, Hochopepa found the notion of any whim of his being ignored almost unfathomable. This imprisonment was nearly impossible to contemplate. Meecham had shown his usual taciturnity, while the monk had also seemed unperturbed. The discussion had been short and resigned.

Dominic had soon after begun his exercises, fascinating to Pug. He had sat and begun meditating until he was now entering some sort of trance. In the silence, Pug considered the monk's lesson. Even in this cell, apparently without hope, there was no need for them to surrender to fear and become mindless wretches. Pug turned his mind back, remembering his boyhood at Crydee: the frustrating lessons with Kulgan and Tully, as he sought to master a magic that he would discover, years later, he was unsuited to practice. A shame, he thought to himself. There were many things he had observed during his time at Stardock that had convinced him the Lesser Magic of Midkemia was significantly further advanced than on Kelewan. Most likely, it was a result of there being only one magic on Midkemia.

For variety, Pug tried one of the cantrips taught him by Kulgan as a boy, one he had never mastered anyway. Hmmm, he mused, the Lesser Path spell isn't affected. He began to encounter the strange blocking from within himself and almost felt amus.e.m.e.nt at it. As a boy he had feared that experience, for it signaled failure. Now he knew it was simply his mind, attuned to the Greater Path, rejecting Lesser Path discipline. Still, somehow the effects of the anti-magic caused him to attack the problem more obliquely. He closed his eyes, imagining the one thing he had tried on innumerable occasions, failing each time. The pattern of his mind balked at the requirements of that magic, but as it shifted to take on its normal orientation, it somehow rebounded against the wards, recoiled, and . . . Pug sat up, eyes wide. He had almost found it! For the briefest instant he had almost understood. Fighting down excitement, he closed his eyes, head down, and concentrated. If he could only find that one instant, that one crystalline instant when he had understood . . . an instant that had fled as soon as it had come . . . In this dank, squalid cell he had stood upon the brink of perhaps one of the most important discoveries in the history of Tsurani magic. If only he could recapture that instant . . .

Then the doors to the cell opened. Pug looked up, as did Hochopepa and Meecham. Dominic remained in his trance. Elgahar entered, motioning for a guard to close the door behind him. Pug stood, uncramping legs that had succ.u.mbed to the cold stones beneath the straw while he had meditated upon his boyhood.

"What you say is disturbing." said the black-robed magician.

"As it should be, for it is true."

"Perhaps, but it may not be, even if you believe it to be true. I would hear everything."

Pug motioned for the magician to sit, but he shook his head in negation. Shrugging, Pug returned to his place on the floor and began his narrative. When he reached the portion relating Rogen's vision, Elgahar became observably agitated, halting Pug to ask a series of questions. Pug continued, and when he was through, Elgahar shook his head. Tell me, Milamber, on your homeworld, are there many who could have understood what was said to this seer in the vision?"

"No. Only myself and one or two others could have understood it, only the Tsurani in LaMut would have recognized it as ancient High Temple Tsurani."

"There is a frightening possibility I must know if you've considered it."

"What?"

Elgahar leaned close to Pug and whispered a single word in his ear. Color drained from Pug's face and he closed his eyes. Back on Midkemia, his mind had begun the process of intuiting what it could from the information at hand. He had subconsciously known all along what the answer would be. With a single, long sigh, he said, "I have. At every turn I have shied from admitting that possibility, but it is always there."

Hochopepa said, "What is this you speak of?"

Pug shook his head. "No, old friend. Not yet. I want Elgahar to consider what he has deduced without hearing your opinion or mine. This is something that must make him re-evaluate his loyalties."

"Perhaps. But even if I do, it will not necessarily alter our present circ.u.mstance."

Hochopepa exploded in rage. "How can you say such a thing! What circ.u.mstance can matter in the face of the Warlord's crimes? Have you come to the point where all your free will has been surrendered to your brother?"

Elgahar said, "Hochopepa, you of all who wear the black robe should understand, for it was you and Fumita who played in the Great Game for years with the Blue Wheel Party. " He spoke of those two magicians' part in helping the Emperor end the Riftwar. "For the first time in the history of the Empire, the Emperor is in a unique position. With the betrayal at the peace conference, he has come to the position of having ultimate authority while having lost face. He may not use his influence, and he will not again utilize his authority. Five clan Warchiefs died in the betrayal, the five most likely to achieve the office of Warlord. Many families lost position in the High Council because of their deaths. Should he again attempt to order the clans, he may be refused."

"You speak of regicide," said Pug.

"It has happened before, Milamber. But that would mean civil war, for there is no heir. The Light of Heaven is young and has yet to father sons. Of his issue there are only three girls as yet. The Warlord desires only the stabilization of the Empire, not the overthrow of a dynasty more than two thousand years old. I have neither affection nor disaffection for this Warlord. But the Emperor must be made to understand that his position in the order of things is spiritual only, surrendering all final authority to the Warlord. Then shall Tsuranuanni enter an era of endless prosperity."

Hochopepa barked a bitter laugh. "That you can believe such drivel shows only that our screening at the a.s.sembly is not rigorous enough."

Ignoring the insult, Elgahar said, "Once the internal order of the Empire has been made stable, then we can counter any possible threat you may herald. Even should what you say be true and my speculation prove accurate, there may be years before we need deal with the issue upon Kelewan- example time to prepare. You must remember, we of the a.s.sembly have reached new pinnacles of power never dreamed of by our ancestors. What may have been a terror to them may prove only a nuisance to ourselves."

"You fail in your arrogance, Elgahar. All of you. Hocho and I have discussed this before. Your a.s.sumption of supremacy is in error. You have not surpa.s.sed your ancestors' might; you have yet to equal it. Among the works of Macros the Black I have found tomes that reveal powers undreamed of in the millennia the a.s.sembly's existed."

Elgahar seemed intrigued by the notion and was silent for a long time. "Perhaps," he said in a thoughtful tone at last. He moved toward the door. "You have accomplished one thing, Milamber. You convince me it is vital to keep you alive longer than the Warlord's pleasure dictates. You have knowledge we must extract. As to the rest, I must . . . think upon it."

Pug said, "Yes, Elgahar, think upon it. Think upon one word, that which you whispered in my ear."

Elgahar seemed on the verge of saying something, then spoke to the guard outside, ordering the door opened. He left, and Hochopepa said, "He's mad."

"No," said Pug. "Not mad; he simply believes what his brother tells him. Anyone who can look into Axantucar's and Ergoran's eyes and think they are the ones to bring prosperity to the Empire is a fool, a believing idealist, but not mad. Ergoran is the one we must truly fear."

They settled back to silence, and Pug returned to brooding on what Elgahar had whispered to him. The chilling possibility that represented was too dreadful to dwell upon, so he turned his mind to consider again the strange moment where for the first time in his life he glimpsed the true mastery of the Lesser Path.

Time had pa.s.sed. Pug didn't know how long, but he a.s.sumed it was four hours past sunset, the time the Warlord had set for interrogation. Guards entered the cell, unshackling Meecham, Dominic, and Pug. Hochopepa was left behind.

They were marched to a room equipped with devices of torture. The Warlord stood resplendent in green and golden robes, speaking to the magician Ergoran. A man in a red hood waited silently while the three prisoners were shackled to pillars in the room, situated so they could see one another.

"Against my better judgment, Ergoran and Elgahar have convinced me it would be beneficial to keep you alive, though each has different reasons. Elgahar seemed inclined to believe your story somewhat, at least enough to think it prudent to learn all we may. Ergoran and I are not so disposed, but there are other things we wish to know. Therefore we shall begin to ensure we have only the truth from you." He signaled to the Inquisitor, who tore Dominic's robes from him, leaving him wearing only a loincloth. The Inquisitor opened a sealed pot and took out a stick heavy with some whitish substance. He daubed some on Dominic's chest and the monk stiffened. Without metals, the Tsurani had developed methods of torture different from those used on Midkemia, but equally as effective. The substance was a sticky caustic that began to blister the skin as soon as administered. Dominic screwed his eyes shut and bit back a cry.

"For reasons of economy, we thought you'd be more likely to tell us the truth if your companions were given attention first. From what your former compatriots tell us, and from that unforgivable outburst at the Imperial Games, you seem to have a compa.s.sionate nature, Milamber. Will you tell us the truth?"

"Everything I have said is true, Warlord! Torturing my friends will not change that!"

"Master!" came a cry.

The Warlord looked at his Inquisitor. "What?"

"This man . . . look." Dominic had lost his pained expression. He hung from the pillar, beatific peace upon his face.

Ergoran stepped up before the monk and examined him. "He's in some manner of trance?"

Both Warlord and magician looked at Pug, and the magician said, "What tricks does this false priest practice, Milamber?"

"He is no priest of Hantukama, true, but he is a cleric of my world. He can place his mind at rest regardless of what occurs with his body."

The Warlord nodded toward the Inquisitor, who removed a sharp knife from the table. He stepped before the monk and, with a sudden cut, sliced open his shoulder. Dominic did not move, not even an involuntary twitch, in reaction. Using pincers, the Inquisitor took a hot coal and applied it to the cut. Again the monk did not react.

The Inquisitor put away his pincers and said, "It is useless, master. His mind is blocked away. We've had this problem with priests before."

Pug's brow furrowed. While not free of politics, the temples tended to be circ.u.mspect in their relationships with the High Council. If the Warlord had been interrogating priests, that indicated movement on the part of the temples toward those allied against the War Party. From Hochopepa's ignorance of this fact, it also meant the Warlord was moving covertly and had stolen the march on his opposition. As much as anything, this told Pug that the Empire was in serious straits, even now poised on the brink of civil war. The a.s.sault upon those who stood with the Emperor would come soon.

"This one's no priest," said Ergoran, coming up to Meecham. He looked up at the tall franklin. "He's a simple slave, so he should prove more manageable." Meecham spit full in the magician's face. Ergoran, used to the unhesitating fear and respect due a Great One, was as stunned as if he had been clubbed. He staggered back, wiping spittle from his face. Enraged, he said coldly, "You've earned a slow, lingering death, slave."

Meecham smiled, for the first time Pug could remember, a broad grin, almost leering. His face was rendered impossibly demonic by the scar on his cheek. "It was worth it, you genderless mule."

In his anger, Meecham had spoken in the King's Tongue, but the tone of the insult was not lost on the magician. He reached over, pulled the sharp blade from the Inquisitor's table, and slashed a long furrow on Meecham's chest. The franklin stiffened, his face draining of color as the wound began to bleed. Ergoran stood before him in triumph. Then the Midkemian spit again.

The Inquisitor turned to the Warlord. "Master, the Great One is interfering with delicate work."

The magician stepped back, letting the knife drop. He again wiped the spittle from his face as he returned to the Warlord's side. With hatred in his voice, he said, "Don't be too hasty in speaking what you know, Milamber. I wish this carrion a long session."

Pug struggled to battle the magic neutralizing properties of the bracelets upon his wrists, but to no avail. The Inquisitor began to work upon Meecham, but the stoic franklin refused to cry out. For half an hour the Inquisitor practiced his b.l.o.o.d.y trade, until at last Meecham sounded a strangled groan and pa.s.sed into semi-consciousness. The Warlord said, "Why have you returned, Milamber?"

Pug, feeling Meecham's pain as if it were his own, said, "I've told you the truth." He looked at Ergoran. "You know it's the truth." He knew his plea fell on deaf ears, for the enraged magician wished Meecham to suffer for spite, not caring that Pug had told all.

The Warlord indicated to the Inquisitor that he was to begin upon Pug. The red-hooded man tore Pug's robes open. The pot of caustic was opened and a small daub was applied to Pug's chest. Years of hard work as a slave in the swamp had left Pug a lean, muscled man, and his body tensed as the pain began. At first daub there had been no sensation, then an instant later pain seared his flesh as the chemicals in the paste reacted. Pug could almost hear the skin blister. The Warlord's voice cut through the pain. "Why have you returned? Whom have you contacted?"

Pug closed his eyes against the fire on his chest. He sought refuge in the calming exercises Kulgan had taught him as an apprentice. Another daub of paste and another fire erupted, this time on the sensitive flesh inside his thigh. Pug's mind rebelled and sought to find refuge in magic. Again and again he battled to break through the barrier imposed by the magic limiting bracelets. In his youth he had been able to find his path to magic only under great stress. When his life had been threatened by trolls, he had found his first spell. When battling Squire Roland, he had lashed out magically, and when he had destroyed the Imperial Games, it had been from a deeply held well of anger and outrage. Now his mind was an enraged animal, bouncing off the bars of a magically imposed cage, and like an animal, he reacted blindly, striking against the barrier again and again, determined either to be free or to die.

Hot coals were placed against his flesh and he screamed. It was an animal cry, mixed pain and rage, and his mind lashed out. His thoughts became blurred, as if he existed in a landscape of reflecting surfaces, a mad spinning room of mirrors, each casting back an image. He saw the kitchen boy of Crydee looking back at him in one surface, then Kulgan's student in another. In a third was the young squire, and the fourth, a slave in the Shinzawai swamp camp. But in the reflections behind the reflections, the mirrors seen within the mirrors, in each he saw a new thing. Behind the boy in the kitchen he saw a man, a servant, but there was no doubt who that man was. Pug, without magic, without training, grown to manhood as a simple member of the castle's serving staff, labored in the kitchen. Behind the image of the young squire he saw a Kingdom n.o.ble, with Princess Carline upon his arm, his wife. His mind whirled. He frantically sought something. He studied the image of Kulgan's student. Behind him he saw the reflected image of an adult pract.i.tioner of the Lesser Art. In his mind Pug spun, seeking the origin of that reflected image within an image, of the Pug grown to be a master of the Lesser Magic. Then he saw the source of that image, a possible future never realized, a chance of fate having diverted his life from that outcome. But in the alternate probabilities of his life he found what he sought. He found an escape. Suddenly he understood. A way was opened to him and his mind fled down that path.

Pug's eyes snapped open and he looked past the red-hooded figure of the Inquisitor. Meecham hung groaning, again conscious, while Dominic was still lost in a trance.

Pug used a mental ability to turn off his awareness of the injury done his body. In an instant he stood without feeling pain. Then his mind reached toward the black-robed figure of Ergoran. The Great One of the Empire almost staggered as Pug's gaze locked upon his own. For the first time in memory, a magician of the Greater Path employed a talent of the Lesser Path, and Pug engaged Ergoran in a contest of wills.

With mind-shattering force, Pug overwhelmed the magician, stunning him instantly. The black-robed figure sagged for a moment until Pug took control of his body. Closing his own eyes, Pug now saw through Ergoran's. He adjusted his senses, then had complete command over the Tsurani Great One. Ergoran's hand shot forward and a cascade of energies sprang from his fingers, striking the Inquisitor from behind. Red and purple lines of force danced along the man's body as he arched and shrieked. Then the Inquisitor danced across the room like a mad puppet, his movements jerky and spastic as he cried out in agony.

The Warlord stood briefly stunned, then screamed, "Ergoran! What insanity is this?" He grabbed the magician's robe as the Inquisitor slammed against the far wall and fell to the stone floor. The instant the Warlord came into contact with the magician, the painful energies ceased to strike the Inquisitor and engulfed the Warlord. Axantucar writhed as he fell back from the onslaught.

The Inquisitor rose from the floor, shaking his head to clear it, and staggered back toward the captives. The red-hooded torturer pulled a slender knife from the table, sensing Pug to be the author of his pain. He stepped toward Pug, but Meecham gripped his chains and hoisted himself up. With a heave, Meecham reached out and encircled the Inquisitor's neck with his legs. In a scissors grip he held the struggling Inquisitor, squeezing with tremendous power. The Inquisitor struck at Meecham's leg with the knife, slashing it across the flesh over and over, but Meecham kept pressure on. Again and again the knife cut, until Meecham's legs were covered in his own blood, but the Inquisitor couldn't cut deeply with the blood-slick little knife. Meecham only gave a joyous cry of victory. Then, with a grunt and a jerk, he crushed the man's windpipe. As the Inquisitor collapsed, strength flowed out of the franklin. Meecham dropped, held up only by his chains. With a weak smile he nodded toward Pug.

Pug broke off the pain spell and the Warlord fell back from Ergoran. Pug commanded the magician to approach. The Great One's mind felt like a soft, malleable thing under Pug's magic control, and somehow Pug knew how to command the magician to act, while keeping aware of what he himself was doing.

The magician began freeing Pug from his chains, while the Warlord struggled to his feet. One hand was free. Axantucar staggered to the outer door. Pug made a decision. If he could be free of the bonds, he could handle any number of guards called in by the Warlord, but he couldn't control two men and he didn't think he could keep control of the magician long enough to destroy the Warlord and free himself. Or could he? Then Pug recognized the danger. This new magic was proving difficult and his judgment was slipping. Why was he allowing the Warlord to gain his freedom? The pain of torture and the exertion were taking a terrible toll, and Pug felt himself weakening by the moment. The Warlord pulled open the door, screaming for guards, and when it opened, Axantucar grabbed at a spear. With a heave, he struck Ergoran full in the back. The blow knocked the magician to his knees before he could loosen Pugs other hand. It also had the effect of sending a psychic shock back to strike Pug. Pug screamed in concert with Ergoran's dying pain.

Fog shrouded Pug's mind. Then something within cracked, and his thoughts became a sea of glittering shards as the mirrors of memory shattered; sc.r.a.ps of past lessons, images of his family, smells, tastes, and sounds rang through his consciousness.

Lights danced through his mind, first scattering motes of starlight, reflections of new vistas within. They weaved and danced, forming a pattern, a circle, a tunnel, then a way. He plunged through the way and found himself upon a new plane of consciousness. New paths were walked, new understandings achieved. That path opened to him before, through pain and terror, was now his to walk at will. At last he stood in command of those powers which were his legacy.

His vision cleared and he saw soldiers struggling on the stairs. Pug turned his attention to the remaining shackle upon his wrist. Suddenly he remembered an old lesson of Kulgan's. With a caress of his mind, the hardened leather shackle was made soft and supple again and he pulled his hand free.

Pug concentrated and the magic-inhibiting bracelets fell away, broken in half. He looked up at the stairs, and for the first time the full impact of what he saw registered. The Warlord and his soldiers had fled the room as some sort of struggle took place above. A soldier in the blue armor of the Kanazawai clan lay dead next to an Imperial White. Pug quickly released Meecham, easing him to the ground. He was bleeding heavily from the leg wounds and cuts to his body. Pug sent Dominic a questing mental message: Return. Dominic's eyes opened at once as his shackles fell off and Pug said, "Tend to Meecham." Without asking for explanation, the monk turned to treat the wounded franklin.

Pug dashed up the stairs and ran to where Hochopepa lay imprisoned. He entered the cell and the startled magician said, "What is it? I heard some noise outside."

Pug bent over and changed the manacles to soft leather. "I don't know. Allies, I think. I suspect the Blue Wheel Party is attempting to free us." He pulled Hochopepa's hands free of the now soft restraints.

Hochopepa stood on wobbly legs. "We must help them help us," he said with resolution. Then he considered his freedom and the softened restraints. "Milamber, how did you do that?"

Pa.s.sing through the door, Pug answered, "I don't know, Hocho. It will be something to discuss."

Pug raced up the stairs toward the upper level of the palace. In the central gallery of the Warlord's palace, armed men struggled in hand-to-hand combat. Men in armor of various colors battled the Warlord's Imperial Whites. Looking about the b.l.o.o.d.y combat, Pug saw Axantucar fighting past a struggling pair of soldiers. Two white-armored soldiers covered his retreat. Pug closed his eyes and reached out. His eyes opened and he could see the invisible hand of energy he had created. He could feel it as he could his own. As if picking up a kitten by the neck, he reached out and gripped the Warlord. Raising him up, he drew the struggling, kicking man toward him. The soldiers halted their struggle at the sight of the Warlord above them. Axantucar, supreme warrior of the Empire, shrieked in unashamed terror at the invisible force that had grabbed him.

Pug pulled him back toward where he and Hocho stood. Some of the Imperial Whites recovered from their shock and deduced that the renegade magician must be the cause of their master's dilemma. Several broke off from their struggles with the soldiers in colored armor and ran to aid the Warlord.

Then a loud voice cried out, "Ichindar! Ninety-one times Emperor!"

Instantly every soldier in the room, regardless of which side he struggled for, dropped to the floor, putting forehead against the stone. The officers stood with heads bowed. Only Hochopepa and Pug watched as a cortege of Warchiefs, all in the armor of those who const.i.tuted the Blue Wheel Party, entered the room. In the forefront, wearing armor not seen in years, came Kamatsu, again for a time Warchief of the Kanazawai Clan. Forming up, they parted to allow the Emperor to enter. Ichindar, supreme authority of the Empire, walked into the hall, resplendent in his ceremonial golden armor. He stalked to where Pug waited, the Warlord still hanging in midair above him, and surveyed the scene. At last he said, "Great One, you do seem to cause difficulty whenever you appear." He looked up at the Warlord. "If you'll put him down, we can get to the bottom of this mess."