unable to bring the relics back-that they are too large for his elementary magical skills.”
Prince Dhich’une waved him back. “He lies, Hele’a. He can get them for us. Vridekka has seen into his mind.”
“Shall we then progress to further ministrations?”
“If need be. First, however, good Vridekka shall make another attempt, deeper this time.”
The seamed face of the old man swam before Harsan’s vision. Two tangled curtains of grey hair swung out on either side of the jutting chin. What was the creature about to do to him? Harsan felt a slight dizziness.
Now there was no one above him! Surprised, Harsan peered this way and that. Vridekka was at the dais holding something up to Prince Dhich’une in a fold of his robe. It was the white metal globe, smoking with frigid cold. How had that happened so quickly?
“This is what was immediately within, mighty Prince,” Vridekka was saying, “two halves of a Globe of Instruction.”
“The message within the Globe?”
“Gone, my Lord. It is blank. Someone has used it.”
The Prince gave a muttered curse. “The priest?”
“Possibly. Nay, probably. I could not penetrate his mind to any great depth. It is as though a seal has been laid upon certain regions of his brain. ’ ’
“Then?”
The old man mumbled again in the Prince’s ear. The latter arose and descended from the dais, coming to stand beside the table upon which Harsan sat.
“Our conversation grows prolonged, priest. You still possess something that belongs to me. More, the important matter is not physical-” the two halves of the metal sphere were held before him “-but rather the information these once contained. I will have it of you.”
“My Lord-mighty Prince, I–I cannot.” Somehow he could not bring his tongue to say otherwise. And a secret part of him rejoiced that the silvery-blue rod still seemed to be safe within, somewhere “around the comer.”
“I tire of your obduracy. Is this what is taught now in the Temple of Thumis? If so, I will have it purged of heresy and treason! Know that I am your superior, more than ever was your lowly Prior, or even the Lord Durugen hiNashomai, or the Grand Adept Gamulu himself.” He drew back and seemed to sigh, the passionless voice dropping to a whisper. “Let me tell you, then, why I do as I do. Mayhap it will save us all time, and you much pain.
“Know that the Yan Koryani are arrayed against us along our northern borders. You have heard of this in the city? Yet there are few to block their path. Those who should act are weak or vacillating. My older brother, Prince Eselne, plays at generalship, but he kicks his heels to the tune of General Kettukal hiMraktine, who commands the First Legion, and who in turn dances for the traditionalists of the Military Party: men who can drill their troops upon the paradeground or fight a simple battle, but who have no more notion of high strategy than does a Chlen-bt amp;si of the Gods.
“The others? My eldest brother, Prince Rereshqala, feasts and diddles his whores in Jakalla, and Prince Mridobu, who is next above me in age, sings songs of praise to our father in Avanthar. He cares for nothing so much as popping a toady of his into some rich Imperial post, and popping the toadies of others out. And my sister, pretty Ma’in Kriithai? She holds court with dandies and foreigners in the governor’s palace here in Bey Sii.
They say that she has left the worship of placid Avanthe and has adopted the hedonism and bodily pleasures of Lady Dlamelish, a change that improves her not a whit were she to become our next Empress, may the Gods forfend!
“At this moment these are all of my siblings. Yet, as well you are aware, it is the custom of our land for an Emperor to conceal some of his offspring, to hand them over secretly through the Omnipotent Azure Legion to be brought up by important patrons: to the highest clans, the temples, even to lesser fosterings. The present situation may thus be changed in a trice. Some misguided clan or temple council may bring forth another princeling to add to my woes, and with the Yan Koryani in the north and the Mu’ugalavyani mouthing threats to the west-! It is now that I must act.”
“The temples, mighty Prince-the good of the Imperium-?”
“The priesthoods? They are crusted over with immoveable tradition, precedent, and protocol-even those of my own sect. By the time all of these fools have been neutralised or replaced, the Baron Aid of Yan Kor will be having supper in Khirgar! For I tell you one more thing, priest Harsan, and that is that any war to come will be fought with more than swords and spears! We have learned that Baron Aid sends a great black box, nigh as large as this chamber and drawn by many teams of Chlen- beasts, down the road toward the city of Hlikku. Our agents tell us that he calls it his ‘Weapon Without Answer,’ and that it holds powers of destruction greater than any army of men or any Sakbe road wall can withstand. To obtain this device, our people tell us further, the Baron has made a compact with some secret force of the ancients. If we are to combat this deadly thing, we must seek sorcerous machines of our own. My sources further tell me that your Man of Gold-oh, yes, I know something of what your relics speak-is just such an instrument. All I ask is that you give over the knowledge you have to them who have the need and the skill and the courage to use it.”
Every word struck Harsan as logical and reasonable. Prince Dhich’une was supported by law, custom, and the traditions of authority drummed into every Tsolyani child as soon as it was old enough to speak. This was also plainly beyond the ken of a simple priest. “Let those fly who have the plumage,” as his Pe Choi tutors used to say.
He opened his mouth to speak, to tell all he knew of the Man of Gold, where it lay, how it was to be employed, what the silvery rod did. But something sealed his lips as tightly as though they belonged to a dead man! Did the orders of his superiors still constrain him? He did not think so any more. Why, then, could he not reveal what he possessed?
He strove to speak again but his tongue refused to move. How could this be? Was it the terrifying nature of this strange, emotionless man and the dark emissaries who served him? The violence and callous political pragmatism that the Prince evinced? All legal right was vested in Prince Dhich’une, whatever the arguments of other factions or sects. Who was he, Harsan- hiShahad, “of Slave-Lineage”-to refuse? By all the Gods…
No words would come. Had he been magicked all unawares by those in the Temple of Eternal Knowing? Or was there some injunction inherent within the thing the Prince had named a Globe of Instruction itself?
Prince Dhich’une was speaking again. “I can give you little time to plot your course, priest Harsan. You are still perhaps under the thrall of the hoary rivalry between your Lords of Stability and mine of Change? There is more at stake here than that!” The skull-face again approached Harsan’s own. “I regret dealing with you so roughly, young man, but I am used to playing with opponents who can match me wager for wager and throw for throw-not against those who must pit their poor copper against my gold! If I have taken stringent measures, it is because I play to win. This game is no pastime from which we can all arise yawning and go off happily to our beds.”
“Mighty Prince-”
“You would consider my arguments? You shall have the chance, though it must be brief.-Vridekka, remove his bonds, give him water or wine, food if he desires it, and the freedom of this chamber. We return later.”
One more thought struck Harsan, and this his tongue uttered easily: “What of my companion, the Lady Eyil hiVriyen?”
The pale, wooden features turned back to him. “Why, it is she whom I now go to visit.”
The Prince’s entourage swept from the room, and Harsan was left alone to ponder.
Chapter Sixteen
The racking screech of the metal door brought Eyil to her feet. She thrust herself back against the rough stone of the wall of the cell. The braided leather cord had been removed, and she had been left her street-cloak. This she wrapped more tightly around her.
Two guards with torches ranged themselves on either side of the door and made way for a third man to enter. The smoky glare made her squint, but she recognised him at once and knelt before him upon the flagging, as was proper to a Prince of the Imperium.
“Mighty Prince Dhich’une…”
