Bertragh gave what he obviously hoped would be taken as an understanding nod. “You will bring the rest of the volumes tomorrow?”
“It is Solace,” said Rik.
“But we can delay the festivities for a while,” added Weasel smoothly. “Perhaps tomorrow evening we shall all have something to celebrate about.”
“Till tomorrow then, gentlemen.”
Once they were outside, they looked at each other. Weasel burst into uproarious laughter. The Barbarian joined him.
“We’re rich,” he said. We’ll see about that, thought Rik, more determined than ever to find out what was in those books. If they could get the sort of response they had from a man like Bertragh they must be worth more even than the merchant was prepared to pay for them.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“You are sure these were Alzibar’s books?” Zarahel asked, glancing at the merchant. He told himself he should not be too surprised that Bertragh had been approached. In a town the size of Redtower there were very few markets for such texts. As a lodge member of the Brotherhood of the Basilisk, Bertragh was always on the lookout for books of lore, to increase his knowledge and his standing with the other members and to add to the Brotherhood’s store of knowledge. The odds had favoured this when he had told the merchant to put out the word on the off-chance that the right people would hear it. He still was amazed it had worked so well though. Perhaps the Old Gods were with them in this after all. He had started to have his doubts.
He told himself not to get cocky. There was always the possibility of some Inquisition trap. One of the rival Brotherhoods might be involved. It never paid to underestimate the cunning of those sorcerous conspiracies. The organisations had not survived through a thousand years of Terrarch oppression by recruiting stupid men.
He thought of how long it had taken him to reach his current position, the layers of deceit he had needed to penetrate; the endless succession of oaths he had been required to swear and deadly missions he had been required to perform, the tests he had needed to pass. And he reminded himself he still had no idea how many levels lay above him and who ultimately he reported to.
He could see the sense of that. After all, of all the members of his cell, Bertragh, the leader, was the only one who knew who Zarahel was. The cell structure made the Brotherhood more difficult to destroy. No one member could betray too much.
He had to admit, he had still been shocked when Alzibar showed up out of the purple, bearing all the required signs and talismans to command his obedience. He had never expected a Terrarch to be a member of the Brotherhood although the Exalted sorcerer had swiftly convinced him of his sincerity and the actuality of his position.
Some of the things he had let slip had been disturbing though. Alzibar had been in the East, had spent time in the Dark Empire and seemed to feel some loyalty to it. Zarahel was not reassured by the thought that ultimately the whole organisation might be a tool of Sardean foreign policy, that the money and the weapons he had supplied the hill-men with had come from the East, and not secret human benefactors.
“I am sure. His mark was on the folio page. The text was written in Exalted Script. It was the third volume of a set of what I am absolutely certain is the Book of Skardos annotated by our Brother Alzibar himself.”
“And you let them walk out of your warehouse with it?” Try as he might, Zarahel could not keep the anger out of his voice. He was irritated. His familiar had started biting him. The bites themselves were not so bad; they were quite pleasurable in fact. In small doses the beast’s poison was a euphoric drug but small itchy blisters had risen everywhere he was bitten. And he wanted those books very badly. It had been bad enough when he believed them lost forever, but to know they still existed and that this fool had let them go…
“What else could I do? It was only one volume and they have cached the rest away somewhere.”
“You could have held them and sent word to me. Believe me I would have made them give up their secrets.”
“Perhaps.” For all his bookish appearance there was steel in Bertragh. “They did not look like men who would have given up without a fight. They were armed.”
“You had half a dozen bodyguards within call”
“They might have been overcome. All three of the soldiers might have been killed.”
“You might have been killed, you mean. My hill-men were upstairs. So was I. You could have sent for us. Believe me, I could have over-powered them myself if need be.”
“You told me you prefer not to be seen. And I would prefer our association to remain secret. It would not have done to have those soldiers witness a Selari factor consorting with hill-men.”
“No witnesses would have survived,” said Zarahel.
Bertragh gave him a cold smile. “Many things could still have gone wrong. If those men died you would have been none the wiser about what they knew. This way we are certain to get what we want.”
Zarahel could see the wisdom of what the factor was saying. Diplomacy seemed called for. “Forgive me, my friend. It is merely excitement and anticipation that made me speak that way. You did the right thing.”
“We will get the books quickly enough. Those soldiers will sell them to us. Why would they not? We are offering them a lord’s ransom.”
Zarahel considered this. “There might be some who would come asking questions if three common soldiers show up with so much money.”
“I have thought about that. Let them bring the books and then you can do with them what you will.”
Zarahel grinned. “And you will get your gold back.”
“An excellent arrangement, don’t you think?”
“Most excellent. Who will care if three soldiers show up dead in the Pit? Especially if they are ones who were known to have hill-men seeking vengeance against them.”
Rik walked through the gloom, ignoring the chatter of his comrades. Events were moving beyond his control. It looked like he would have to give up the books to the factor. A small part of him was almost relieved. He would swap the texts for money, and enjoy the spoils for a little while. But part of him seethed with a barely suppressed rage to possess them. Their effect on the merchant shouted that they were a thing of great value. Bertragh’s attitude virtually spelled out that they contained secrets worth more than gold.
A look at his companion’s faces told him that there was no way he could ever make them appreciate this. They wanted the money, and were happy with the prospect of getting it. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps the lust for the thing he felt was a warning to Rik. Perhaps the books were a danger to his immortal soul. Perhaps the price of their secrets was more than any man should pay, and they should best be left to the merchant or his master.
And yet, deep within himself, Rik felt that even if the price was his soul, he would be willing to pay it. Just the thought of the possession of such diabolic knowledge thrilled him in a way that it should not. He found, much to his shame, that part of him was keen to possess forbidden secrets. That part thought even damnation might be preferable to his current place in the world. A sour smile quirked his lips. At least then, he would be somebody, he thought.
This was a futile exercise, he realised. Even if he owned the books, he was a long way from being able to use them. He had neither the skills to decipher the text nor the power to invoke any of the secrets the text might contain. Should he keep the books, he would most likely still be a nobody, a worm looking up at the stars. A strange soft despair gnawed at him, even as he listened to the boasting of his comrades.
At that moment a sense of the wrongness of things overtook him. It was not right that he or any other man should be made to feel this way. There was something deeply flawed with the ordering of the world when anybody’s spirit could be so crushed down by the way things were. He felt the first stirrings of the rage that the Clockmaker must have felt, and all the other rebels he had fought. Somewhere, somehow, he thought, things had to change. This world would have to be put right, and somehow he would have to find a way to contribute to that.
