edge of his tangled bed with his head in his hands. There was
a sense of dread hanging over him, a shadowy feeling of horror.
He kept his burning eyes closed and groped under the bed with
one shaking hand for the emergency bottle he always kept there.
The liquid it contained was neither wine nor beer but a dreadful
concoction of Lamork origin that was obtained by setting certain
inferior wines out in the winter and allowing them to freeze.
The liquid that rose to the top and remained unfrozen was
almost pure spirits. It tasted foul, and it burned like fire going
down, but it put the horrors to sleep. Shuddering, Krager drank
off about a pint of the awful stuff and lurched to his feet.
The sun was painfully bright when he stumbled out into the
streets of Natayos and went looking for the source of the screams
that had awakened him. He reached a central square and
recoiled in horror. Several men were being systematically tortured
to death while Scarpa, dressed in his shabby imitation
royal robe and his makeshift crown, sat in an ornate chair watching
with approval.
‘What’s going on?’ Krager asked CabaL, a shabby Dacite brigand
of his acquaintance with whom he had frequently gotten
drunk. CabaL turned quickly. ‘Oh, it’s you, Krager,’ he said. ‘As
closely as I can gather, the Shining Ones descended on
Panem-Doa. ‘
‘That’s impossible,’ Krager said shortly. ‘Ptaga’s dead. There
aren’t any more of those illusions to keep the Tamuls running
around in circles.’
‘if we can believe what some of those dying fellows said,
the ones who went into Panem-Doa weren’t illusions,’ CabaL
replied. ‘A fair number of the officers there got themselves disolved
when they tried to stand and fight.’
‘What’s happening here?’ Krager asked, pointing at the
screaming men bound to poles set up in the middle of the
square. ‘Scarpa’s making examples of the ones who ran away. He’s
having them cut to pieces. Here comes Cyzada.’ CabaL pointed
at the Styric hurrying out of Scarpa’s headquarters.
‘What are you doing?’ the hollow-eyed Cyzada bellowed at the
madman sitting on his cheap throne.
‘They deserted their posts,’ Scarpa replied. ‘They’re being
punished.’
‘You need every man, you idiot!’
‘I ordered them to march to the north to join my loyal armies,’
Scarpa shrugged. ‘They concocted lies to excuse their failure to
obey. They must be punished. I will have obedience!’
‘You will not kill your own soldiers. Order your butchers to
stop!’
‘That’s quite impossible, Cyzada. An imperial order, once
given, cannot be rescinded. I have commanded that every
deserter from Panem-Doa be tortured to death. It’s out of my
hands now.’
‘You maniac. you won’t have a soldier left by tomorrow morning.
they’ll all desert!’
‘Then I will recruit more and hunt them all down. I will be
obeyed!’
Cyzada of Esos controlled his fury with an obviously great
effort. Krager saw his lips moving and his fingers weaving intricate
pattens in the air. ‘Let’s get out of here, CabaL!’ he said
urgently.
‘What? the crazy man ordered us all to watch.’
“you don’t want to watch what’s going to happen next,’
Krager told him. ‘Cyzada’s casting a spell – Zemoch, most likely.
He’s summoning a demon to teach our “emperor” the meaning
of the word “obedience”. ‘
‘He can’t do that. Zalasta left his son in charge here.’
‘No, actually Cyzada’s in charge. I personally heard Zalasta
tell that Styric who’s wriggling his fingers right now to kill
Scarpa the minute he stepped out of line. I don’t know about
you, my friend, but I’m going to find someplace to hide. I’ve
seen the kind of creatures that were subject to Azash before,
and I’m feeling a little delicate this morning, so I don’t want to
Bse one again.’
We’ll get into trouble, Krager.’
‘Not if the demon Cyzada’s summoning right now eats Scarpa
alive, we won’t.’ Krager drew in a deep breath. ‘It’s up to you,
Cabal. Stay if you want, but I think I’ve seen as much as I want
to of Natayos.’
“you’re going to desert?’ CabaL was aghast.
‘The situation’s changed. If Sparhawk’s allied himself with the
Delphae, I want to be a long way from here when they come
glowing out of that jungle. I find that I’m suddenly homesick
for Eosia. Come or stay, CabaL, but I’m leaving – now.’
CHAPTER 25
Zalasta’s face was strangely altered when Ekatas unlocked and
opened the door to the small, dank cell adjoining the larger
room at the top of the tower a week or so after he had brought
Ehlana and Alcan to Cyrga. The doubt and remorse which had
filled it before were gone, and the Styric’s expression was now
one of calm detachment. He took in the horrid little room at a
glance. Ehlana and Alcan were chained to the wall, and they
were sitting on heaps of moldy straw that were supposed to
serve as beds. Crude earthenware bowls filled with cold gruel
sat untouched on the floor. ‘This won’t do, Ekatas,’ Zalasta said
in a remote kind of voice.
‘It’s really none of your concern,’ the High Priest replied. ‘Prisoners
are kept closely confined here in Cyrga.’ As always, Ekatas
sneered when he spoke to Zalasta.
‘Not these prisoners.’ Zalasta stepped into the cell and took
up the chains that bound the two women to the wall. Then,
showing no emotion, he crushed them into powdery rust. ‘The
situation here has changed, Ekatas,’ he snapped, helping Ehlana
to her feet. ‘Get this mess cleaned up.’
Ekatas drew himself up. ‘I don’t take orders from Styrics. I
am the High Priest of Cyrgon.’
‘i’m truly sorry about this, your Majesty,’ Zalasta apologized
to Ehlana. ‘My attention’s been diverted for the past week or
so. Evidently I didn’t make my wishes clear to the Cyrgai. Please
excuse me for a moment, and I’ll correct that oversight.’ He
turned back to Ekatas. ‘I told you to do something,’ he said in
a dreadful voice. ‘Why haven’t you started?’
‘Come out of there, Zalasta, or I’ll lock you in with them.’
‘Oh, really?’ Zalasta said with a thin smile. ‘I thought you
had better sense. I don’t have time for this, Ekatas. Get this
room cleaned up. I have to take our guests to the Temple
again.’
‘i’ve received no such instructions.
‘Why should you have?’
‘Cyrgon speaks through me.’
‘Precisely. The instructions didn’t come from Cyrgon.
‘Cyrgon is God here.
‘Not any more, he isn’t.’ Zalasta gave him an almost pitying
look. ‘You didn’t even feel it, did you, Ekatas? The world heaved
and convulsed all around you, and you didn’t even notice. How
can you possibly be so dense? Cyrgon has been supplanted.
klael rules in Cyrga now – and I speak for klael.’
‘That’s not possible. you’re lying!’
Zalasta walked out of the cell and took hold of the front of
the High Priest’s robe. ‘Look at me, Ekatas,’ he commanded.
‘Take a long, hard look, and then tell me that I’m lying.’
Ekatas struggled momentarily, and then, unable to help himself,
he’ looked into Zalasta’s eyes. The blood slowly drained
from his face, and then he screamed. He screamed again, trying
to tear himself free from the Styric’s iron grasp. ‘I beg of you!.’
he cried out in a voice filled with horror, ‘no more. No more!’
Then he sagged, covering his eyes with his hands. ‘
Zalasta contemptuously let go of the front of his black robe,
and he fell to the floor, weeping uncontrollably.
‘Now do you understand?’ Zalasta asked him, almost gently.
‘Cyzada and I tried to warn you and your petty Codling about
the dangers involved in summoning Klael, but you wouldn’t
listen. Cyrgon wanted to enslave Bhelliom, and now he’s the
slave of Bhelliom’s opposite. And, since I speak for klael, I guess
that makes you my slave.’ He prodded the weeping priest with
one foot. ‘Get up, Ekatas! Get on your feet when your master
speaks!’
The grovelling priest scrambled to his feet, his tear-streaked
face still filled with unspeakable horror.
‘Say it, Ekatas,’ Zalasta said in a cruel voice. ‘I want to hear
you say it – or would you like to witness the death of another star?’
‘M-M-Master,’ the High Priest choked.
‘Again – a little louder, if you don’t mind.’
‘Master!’ It came out almost as a shriek.
‘Much better, Ekatas. Now wake up those lazy cretins in the
guardroom and put them to work cleaning this cell. We have
preparations to make when I come back from the temple.
Anakha’s bringing Bhelliom to Cyrga, and we’ll want to be ready
when he arrives.’ He turned. ‘Bring your maid, Ehlana. Klael
wants to look at you.’ Zalasta paused, looking at her critically.
‘I know that we’ve treated you badly,’ he half-apologized, ‘but
don’t let our bad manners break your spirit. Remember who
you are and draw that about you. klael respects power and those
who wield it.’