“Our interest was purely curiosity. He broke none of our laws and harmed none of our subjects. He was forthright when questioned. He’s a sad case. He has been alone and enclosed so long he doesn’t know any way but the way he’s fol owed forever.”
“We’re al like that anymore.”
“You could be right without actual y recognizing why.”
“And without understanding what you mean.”
“This assassin isn’t quite a real man. He’s more like a devil manufactured by the darkness inside us al . Though that isn’t what I’m real y trying to say.” She clapped her hands in frustration. “I saw elements of al of us in him. He’s hol ow inside.”
Ragnarson was baffled. Mist did not get philosophical.
Mist said, “One reason I cal him supernatural is, he doesn’t remember his own name.”
“How can you not know your own name?”
“I think because he’s used so many. I found him intriguing.
Lord Ssuma was taken by him, too.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“Come along. You’l see.”
Mist left. The door did not close behind her.
Ragnarson moved that way like a mouse intent on sneaking past a cobra. This could not be what it seemed. It had to be a cruel prank. Something awful would happen. He was safe as long as he did nothing. He should climb into bed and shut his eyes. There would be no pain in sleep.
Sherilee crossed his mind, then Elana, who had given him so many children, al of whom he had outlived. Then Fiana, so remarkable in her passion. She had given him a child he never got to know. And Inger, who had given hope and love in a time of deep despair, and a beautiful son, but who could not overcome her blood.
He stood before the door but did not consider it. He fixated on Inger. His wife had done little that was wicked before hubris drove him to destruction by Ssu-ma Shih-ka’i.
He bore Shih-ka’i no il wil . The Tervola had done his duty, defending his empire. The man had gone out of his way to repay a debt once his duty had been satisfied.
“Are you coming?”
Ragnarson could not see Mist. Her voice came from above.
He stepped into the gloom beyond the doorway, spied steps leading upward, to his right. He managed twenty-eight of those before he stopped to fight for breath.
Mist cal ed down, “One more story.”
She lied. It was two. He managed eight steps, took a break, then did six more. After that he took the steps one by one. He caught up unable to talk and unsure if he would get his breath back before he col apsed.
“You are leading too sedentary a life.”
He gasped, “Nor am I an eighteen-year-old stud anymore.”
“Get your breath. We stil have twenty steps to go.” It took Ragnarson ten minutes to clear those. He developed a cramp in his right thigh and an uncontrol able twitch in his left calf. He could not stand up straight. It seemed he would never stop panting. And he was much too aware of every overexcited thump of his hammering heart.
Mist said, “Go lean on the rampart. Don’t sit down. I’m not big enough to shift you if your muscles lock up.” She was teasing. He hurt too much to care. “Just get on with it.”
“As you wish.” Mist moved several steps away. “Shin-jei.
Bring the prisoner.”
Ragnarson paid no attention. He feasted his eyes on the cityscape. He enjoyed the breeze. He absorbed sounds he never heard in his apartment. He drew in alien smel s, especial y the rich, spicy odors of eastern cooking.
The Empress had known deprivation in her time. She was patient. But minutes were al she could afford. “Look at this man, Bragi. Tel me if you know him.”
Ragnarson looked at a westerner about six feet tal , wel -
weathered, and gaunt. His eyes were a changeable blue.
He appeared to be total y resigned. “Have we ever met?”
“I doubt it.” In a feeble monotone, not avoiding Ragnarson’s eyes. He was not afraid.
“The Guild. With Hawkwind. Before the El Murid Wars.” That startled the man but his face closed down immediately.
Ragnarson said, “We may have been in the same regiment when we were young. There would be nothing else to connect us. Except Sherilee.”
“I am disappointed. I’d hoped there was some drama of deep time coming to a head.”
“He might not be the man I’m remembering. He would have been just another recruit who went into the desert with Hawkwind.”
Mist gestured. Her bodyguards took the assassin into the tower.
“Did I pass the test?”
“You control ed your temper admirably. Though I do hope you can tel us more about that man.”
Ragnarson said, “No such luck. An arrow from a broken bow.”
Mist looked to Lord Ssu-ma, who had done his best to remain invisible. He had nothing to contribute now.
Mist said, “We wil take time to enjoy the sunset. I’m told the wondrous colors are by grace of the wars with Matayanga and the Deliverer.”
“A sky painted with the dust of souls,” Ragnarson observed.
“Don’t attribute that to me. Derel Prataxis said it.” Mist did not believe him, but why argue? “Those wars are over. Their horrors have been sucked down into the quicksand of time. If gaudy sunsets are their memorial, let the survivors enjoy them.”
Ragnarson grumbled, “Aren’t we deep into a philosophical pocket of night.”
Mist said, “Time to go back to your quarters. The trip should be easier this time.”
“Harsh.”
“And I have to get back to being mistress of this mad empire.”
...
Ragnarson settled for the night feeling renewed and too excited to sleep. He obsessed over the wonderful trivia he had seen. His happiest recol ection was of lightning bugs in their courtship dances.He was amazed that they had fireflies in the east, too.
...
Shih-ka’i asked, “Did we gain anything tonight?”
“Nothing knowledgewise. He did demonstrate a renewed ability to master his emotions.”
“For what that is worth.”
“You are a sour one lately.”
“That I cannot deny, Il ustrious.”
“What do you need? A new war in which to shine? I can’t give you one for a generation.”
“Il ustrious, I prefer the struggle for peace. Sadly, we don’t live in a world where such thinking is practical.”
“What do you want, Shih-ka’i?”
Lord Ssu-ma marshaled his courage. “A suite here. In this tower.” “For your own hideaway? Or for an enemy you want bound without hope?”
“There is someone I want to instal in a place that respects his standing while assuring an absence of contact with the world.”
“You make it sound deliciously mysterious.” Shih-ka’i shrugged. “The reality is quite banal.”
“Make it happen quickly. We have the final peace terms to dictate to Matayanga.”
“I’l be there when you need me.”
...
