Mejana returned to Egaru with a new brief: to recruit and train an army of freedom fighters from within the cities. A secret army that would, one day, take control. Slowly, over the next ten years, she built such a force. And now the Pajists had sympathizers in every aspect of government, including the Vagar army. Mejana’s work was perilous. Mostly she stayed in the background, using others to relay information or to seek sympathizers. But on three occasions in the last four years agents of the Erek-jhip-zhonad had been arrested and crystal-drawn. Each of them could have betrayed her. None did.
When the old king died and his son Ammon succeeded him Mejana had wondered what level of support she would continue to receive. Anwar, old now but still possessed of great cunning, was promoted to First Councillor, and with increased funding the Pajists grew in strength.
Earlier this year Mejana had authorized a daring plan.
Attacks were made on prominent Vagars who supported the Avatar regime. Three were killed, one paralysed when he tried to flee and fell from his balcony. Now the work of the Pajists became an open secret. Wherever people gathered they would talk about the attacks and what they meant. Through this Mejana’s agents were able to gather more information and recruit still more fighters to the cause.
But the most important breakthrough came when Mejana ordered the kidnapping of Questor Baliel. The youngest of the Avatar High Council, Baliel was considered by Mejana to be less than courageous. He had attended private orgies at her home and she had observed him closely. He was filled with petty ambitions and believed his lack of political success could be laid at the door of those envious of his wit and intelligence. Like most stupid people he regarded himself highly, and when faced with superior men branded them ‘intellectual’ or ‘lacking in common sense’.
Four Pajists had grabbed him as he left the house. Throwing a grain sack over his head they had beaten him unconscious and carried him to a warehouse close to the dock. Here Mejana had visited him. The Avatar was locked in a dark and windowless cellar. When Mejana entered he had thrown himself at her feet, begging her to help him.
‘I am surprised and saddened to find you like this, lord,’ she said. ‘The evil men who have captured you have asked me – as a friend of yours – to tell you their demands.’
‘Demands?’ he said, from his knees. ‘I will pay them anything. Anything!’
‘They do not require money, lord. They require information.’
‘What information?’
‘They told me to tell you that you must teach the Six Rituals to a young man. They want a Vagar to learn to use the crystals.’
‘Sweet Heaven! I can’t do that. No Vagar could master the art. Please help me, Mejana.’
‘I can do nothing, lord. They have me locked in a cell close by. They say they will kill me if you do not obey them. And they will certainly kill you.’
‘Kill me? I cannot die. Oh Mejana, what must I do?’
Crouching down beside the whimpering man she stroked his long blue hair. ‘If, as you say, no Vagar can learn the rituals, then what harm is there in teaching them? It will keep you alive. And they have promised to move you to a better room, with lanterns and good food. Also,’ she said, dropping her voice to a whisper, ‘they have promised that I can go free. Once I am clear of them I can alert the Watch and you will be rescued.’
‘Yes. Yes, that is the answer. I will teach them. You must get a message to Rael. He will know what to do.’
‘It will be as you say, lord,’ she told him.
For three weeks Baliel taught Pendar the Rituals. At first the young man made little progress, but on the twenty-seventh day he managed to revive a dying flower, bringing it back to full bloom. After this, progress was swift.
Outside, in the city, the Avatars were searching for the missing Questor.
One morning Viruk arrived at the house. Mejana had heard of him. And what she had heard was not encouraging. He was ruthless and cruel, his malice disguised by a great physical charm and charisma.
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