They brandished crude weapons and assorted agricultural
implements as they bellowed, emphasizing their slogan and
intimidating the still-confused.
‘The purpose of these monsters is all too clear,’ Rebal shouted
over the tumult. “It is their plan to hold the Emperor as hostage
to prevent the Atans from storming the palace. They will sit
safe where they are until reinforcements arrive. And make no
mistake, my friends, those reinforcements are even now gathering
on the plains of Eosia. The armies of the heretics are on the
march, and in the van there come the Church Knights!’
Horrified gasps ran through the ranks of the peasants.
‘On to Matherion!’ the fellow with the cudgel bellowed. ‘Free
the Emperor!’
The crowd took up the shout.
Rebal held up one hand, ‘My blood burns as hotly as yours,
my friends.’ he shouted. ‘But will we leave our homes and
families to the mercies of the Knights of the Church? All of Eosia
marches toward Matherion, and what stands between accursed
Eosia and fire-domed Matherion? Edam, my friends! Our beloved homeland
stands in the path of the heretic horde!’ What
mercy can we expect from these savages? Who will defend our
women from foul rape if we rush to the Emperor’s aid?’
Cries of chagrin ran through the crowd.
Rebal moved quickly at that point. ‘And yet, my friends,’ he
rushed on, ‘our defense of our beloved homes may yet aid our
friend, the Emperor. The beasts of Eosia come to destroy our
faith and to slaughter the true believers. I know not what course
you may take, but I pledge to you all that I will lay down my
life for our beloved homeland and our holy faith! But in my
dying, I will delay the Church Knights. That SPawn of Hell must
pause to spill my blood, and their delay will give the Atans the
time to rally. Thus may we defend our homes and aid our friend
in one stroke!’ Sparhawk began to swear, half strangling to keep his voice
down.
‘What’s your problem?’ Kalten asked.
‘We’ve just been blocked. If those idiots out there accept what
Rebal’s telling them, the Church Knights are going to have to
fight their way to Matherion foot by foot.’
‘They’re very quick to exploit a changing situation,’ Vanion
agreed. ‘Too quick, perhaps. It’s almost a thousand leagues from
here to Matherion. Either someone has a very good horse, or
our mysterious friend out there is breaking the rules again in
order to get word out to the hinterlands of what happened after
the coup was put down.’
Rebal was holding up his hands to quiet the shouting of the
crowd. ‘Are you with me, my brothers?’ he called. ‘Will we
defend our homes and our faith and help our friends, the
Tamuls, at the same time?’ The mob howled its assent.
‘Let’s ask Incetes to help us!’ the man with the cudgel shouted.
‘incetes!’ another bellowed. ‘incetes! Call forth Incetes!’
‘Are you sure, my friends?’ Rebal asked, drawing himself up
and pulling his dark cloak tightly around him.
‘Call him forth, Rebal! Raise Incetes! Let him tell us what to
do!’
Rebal struck an exaggerated pose and raised both arms over
his head. He began to speak, intoning guttural words in a hollow,
booming voice.
‘is that Styric?’ Kalten whispered to Sephrenia. “It doesn’t
sound like Styric to me.’
“It’s gibberish,’ she replied scornfully.
Kalten frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them,’ he
whispered. ‘What part of the world do the Gibbers come from?’
She stared at him, her face baffled.
‘Did I say it wrong?’ he asked. ‘Are they called the Gibberese,
or maybe the Gibberenians? – the people who speak Gibberish,
I mean.’
‘Oh, Kalten,’ she laughed softly, “I love you.
‘What did I say?’
Rebal’s voice had risen to a near-shriek, and he brought both
arms down sharply.
There was a sudden explosion in the middle of the bonfire,
and a great cloud of smoke boiled out into the clearing.
‘HerRen, Maisteres alls!’ a huge voice came out of the smoke.
‘Now hath the tyme for Werre ycom. Now, be me troth, shat
alls trow Edomishmen on lyve to armes! TaR ye uppe the iron
sword, gird ye your limbos alls inns the iron haubergeon and
the iron helm, Smyte ye the feendes fouls, which beestes Jerk
do setts ham and fey in deedly peril. Gee ye to bataile terse to
fend the feendes of the acurset Chirche of Chyrellos! Follwe!
Follwe! Follwe me, as Codes hondys yeve ye force!’
‘Old High Elenic!’ Bevier exclaimed. ‘Nobody’s spoken that
tongue’ in thousands of years!’
I’d follow him, whatever tongue it is,’ Ulath rumbled. ‘he
makes a good speech.’
The smoke began to thin, and a huge, ox-shouldered man
wearing ancient armor and holding a mighty two-handed sword
above his head appeared at Rebal’s side. ‘Havok!’ he bellowed.
‘Havok and Werre.’
CHAPTER 5
‘They’ve all gone now,’ Berit reported when he and Talen
returned to the camp concealed in the narrow ravine. ‘They
spent a lot of time marching around in circles shouting slogans
first, though.’
‘Then the beer ran out,’ Talen added dryly, ‘and the party
broke up.’ He looked at Flute. ‘Are you sure this was supposed
to be important?’ he asked her. “It was the most contrived hoax
I’ve ever seen.”
She nodded stubbornly. “It was important,’ she insisted. “I
don’t know why, but it was.’
‘How did they make that big flash and all the smoke?’ Kalten
asked.
‘One of the fellows near the fire threw a handful of some kind
of powder onto the coals,’ Khalad said, shrugging. ‘Everybody
else was watching Rebal, so they didn’t see him when he did
it.’
‘Where did the one in the armor come from?’ Ulath asked.
‘He was hiding in the crowd,’ Talen explained. ‘The whole
thing was at about the same level as you’d find at a country fair
– one that’s held a long way from the nearest town.’
‘The one who was pretending to be Incetes gave a fairly stirring
speech, though,’ Ulath noted.
“It certainly should have been,’ Bevier smiled. “It was written
by Phalactes in the seventh century.’
‘Who was he?’ Talen asked.
‘Phalactes was the greatest playwright of antiquity. That stirring
speech came directly from one of his tragedies, Etonicus.
That fellow in the antique armor substituted a few words is all.
The play’s a classic. It’s still performed at universities once in a
while.’
‘You’re a whole library all by yourself, Bevier,’ Kalten told
him. ‘Do you remember every single thing you’ve ever read word
for word?’
Bevier laughed. ‘I wish I could, my friend. Some of my classmates
and I put on a performance of Etonicus when I was a
student. I played the lead, so I had to memorize that speech.
The poetry of Phalactes is really very stirring. He was a great
artist – Arcian, naturally.’
“I never liked him very much,’ Flute sniffed. ‘He was as ugly
as sin; he smelled like an open cesspool; and he was a howling
bigot. Bevier swallowed hard. ‘Please don’t do that, Aphrael,’ he
said. “It’s very unsettling.’
‘What was the story about?’ Talen asked, his eyes suddenly
eager. ‘Etonicus was supposed to be the ruler of a mythic kingdom
somewhere in what’s now eastern Cammoria,’ Bevier replied.
‘The legend has it that he went to war with the Styrics over
religion. ‘
‘What happened?’ Talen’s tone was almost hungry.
‘He came to a bad end,’ Bevier shrugged. “It’s a tragedy, after
all.’
‘But… ‘
‘You can read it for yourself sometime, Talen,’ Vanion said
firmly. ‘This isn’t the story hour.’
Talen’s face grew sulky.
‘i’d be willing to wager that you could paralyze our young
friend here in mid-theft,’ Ulath chuckled. ‘All you’d have
to do is say, “Once upon a time”, and he’d stop dead in his
tracks.’
‘This throws a whole new light on what’s been happening
here in Tamul,’ Vanion mused. ‘Could this all be some vast
hoax?’ He looked inquiringly at Flute.
She shook her head. ‘No, Vanion. There has been magic of
varying levels in some of the things we’ve encountered.’
“some perhaps, but not all, certainly. Was there any magiC
at all involved in what we saw tonight?’
‘Not a drop.’
‘is that how you measure magic?’ Kalten asked curiously.
‘Does it come by the gallon?’
‘Like cheap wine, you mean?’ she suggested tartly.
‘Well, not exactly, but…’
‘This was very important,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Thank you,
Aphrael.’
“I live but to serve.’ She smiled mockingly at him.
‘Stop that.’
‘You’ve missed me entirely, Sparhawk,’ Kalten said.
‘We’ve just found out that not everything that’s being reported
back to Matherion is the result of real magic. There’s a fair
amount of fraud mixed in as well. What does that suggest?’
‘The other side’s lazy.’ Kalten shrugged.
‘i’m not so sure,’ Ulath disagreed. ‘They’re not afraid to exert
themselves when it’s important.’
‘Two,’ Sephrenia said. ‘Three at the most.’