Domes of Fire (48 page)

‘You
did
know that there are criminals here in Matherion, didn’t you?’

‘You mean other than the members of my government?’

Stragen laughed. ‘Score one for you, your Majesty,’ he said. ‘There’s a world below the surface in every major city in the world,’ he explained. ‘It’s a world of thieves, pickpockets, burglars, beggars, whores, swindlers and murderers. They eke out a precarious existence by preying on the rest of society.’

‘We’re aware that such people exist, of course,’ Sarabian said. ‘That’s why we have policemen and prisons.’

‘Yes, your Majesty. Those are some of the minor inconveniences in the criminal’s life. What isn’t generally known, however, is the fact that the criminals of the world co-operate with each other to some degree.’

‘Go on.’

‘I’ve had some contacts with those people in the past, your Majesty,’ Stragen went on, choosing his words carefully. ‘They can be very useful. There’s almost nothing that goes on in a city that some criminal doesn’t know about. If you make it clear that you’re not interested in
their
activities, they’ll usually sell you the information they’ve picked up.’

‘A business arrangement then?’

‘Precisely. It’s something on the order of buying stolen goods. It’s not very nice, but many people do it.’

‘Of course.’

‘Now, then. This co-operative spirit I mentioned doesn’t exist here in Matherion. Tamuls don’t co-operate very well for some reason. Each profession here keeps strictly to itself. They’ve even formed guilds, and they view other criminal professions with contempt and suspicion. We’re going to have to break down those walls if those people are to be of any use to us.’

‘That stands to reason, Milord.’

Stragen seemed to breathe a bit easier. ‘I’ve made some arrangements, your Majesty,’ he said. ‘The leaders of the various criminal guilds are going to come here. They respect you enormously, and they’ll obey if you tell them to do something.’ He paused. ‘That’s as long as you don’t command them to become honest, of course.’

‘Of course. You can’t ask a man to give up his profession, I suppose.’

‘Exactly. What you
can
order them to do, though, your Majesty, is to abandon these caste barriers and start talking to each other. If they’re going to be of any use, they’re going to have to be willing to pass information to one central collecting point. If we have to contact the head of each guild, information would be stale long before we got our hands on it.’

‘I see. Correct me if I’m wrong, Milord Stragen. What you want me to do is to organise the criminals of Matherion so that they can prey on honest citizens more effectively in exchange for unspecified information they may or may not be able to pick up in the street. Is that it?’

Stragen winced. ‘I was afraid your Majesty might look at it that way,’ he said.

‘You needn’t be fearful, Milord Stragen. I’ll be happy to have a chat with these loyal criminals. The gravity of the current crisis over-rides my natural revulsion for
having dealings with knaves and rogues. Tell me, Milord, are you a good thief?’

‘I guess I’ve underestimated your Majesty,’ Stragen sighed. ‘Yes, actually I’m a very good thief. I hate to sound immodest, but I’m probably the best thief in the world.’

‘How’s business?’

‘Not so good lately, Emperor Sarabian. Times of turmoil are very bad for crime. Honest men grow nervous and start protecting their valuables. Oh, one thing, your Majesty. The criminals you’ll be addressing will all be masked. They respect you enormously, but they’ll probably want to hide their faces from you.’

‘I can understand that, I suppose. I’m rather looking forward to speaking with your friends, Stragen. We’ll put our heads together and come up with ways to circumvent the authorities.’

‘That’s not really a good idea, your Majesty,’ Talen told him. ‘Never let a thief get within ten feet of you.’ He raised his hand to show Sarabian a jewelled bracelet.

The startled emperor looked quickly at his naked right wrist.

‘Merely a demonstration, your Majesty,’ Talen grinned. ‘I wasn’t really going to keep it.’

‘Give him back the rest as well, Talen,’ Stragen told the boy.

Talen sighed. ‘Your eyes are unwholesomely sharp, Stragen.’ He reached inside his doublet and took out several other jewels. ‘The best plan is not to have anything of value on your person when you talk with thieves, your Majesty,’ he advised.

‘You’re very good, Master Talen,’ Sarabian complimented the boy.

‘It’s all in the wrist,’ Talen shrugged.

‘I absolutely love you Elenes,’ Sarabian said. ‘Tamuls are a dull, boring people, but you’re full of surprises.’
He smiled archly at Melidere. ‘And what startling revelations do you have for me, Baroness?’ he asked her.

‘Nothing really very startling, your Majesty,’ she smiled. ‘The swishing back and forth through the corridors has earned me several fairly predictable offers – and a fair number of pinches. Tamuls pinch more than Elenes, don’t they? I’ve learned to keep my back to the wall, though. A pinch or two in the spirit of good clean fun is all right, I suppose, but the bruises take a long time to fade.’

Then they all looked at Berit. The young Pandion Knight blushed furiously. ‘I haven’t really got anything to report, my Lords and Ladies,’ he mumbled.

‘Berit,’ Ehlana said gently, ‘it’s not nice to lie like that, you know.’

‘It wasn’t really anything, your Majesty,’ he protested. ‘It was all a misunderstanding, I’m sure – probably because I don’t speak Tamul very well.’

‘What happened, my young friend?’ Sarabian asked him.

‘Well, your Majesty, it was your wife, the empress Elysoun – the one with the unusual costume.’

‘Yes, I’m acquainted with her.’

‘Well, your Majesty, she approached me in one of the corridors and said that I was looking a bit tired – perhaps because I was keeping my eyes closed.’

‘Why were you doing that?’

‘Ah – well, her costume, you understand, your Majesty. I thought it might be impolite to stare.’

‘In Elysoun’s case, it’s impolite not to. She’s very proud of her attributes, and she likes to share them with people.’

Berit’s blush deepened. ‘Anyway,’ he floundered on, ‘she said I looked tired and told me that she had a very comfortable bed in her quarters that I could use if I wanted to get some rest.’

Kalten was gazing at the youthful knight with openmouthed envy. ‘What did you say?’ he asked almost breathlessly.

‘Well, I thanked her, of course, but I told her that I wasn’t really sleepy.’

Kalten buried his face in his hands and groaned. ‘There, there,’ Ulath said, patting his shoulder comfortingly.

‘Well sir, yer Queenship,’ Caalador was saying in his broad, colloquial drawl, ‘these yere trinkets is purty thangs, I’ll tell the world, but they ain’t got no real practical use to ‘em.’ He offered Ehlana a pair of carved ivory figurines.

‘They’re gorgeous, Caalador,’ she gushed.

‘Is that guard gone?’ Caalador muttered to Sparhawk.

Sparhawk nodded. ‘Mirtai just shoved him out the door.’

‘I thought he was planning to stay all day.’

‘Did you have any trouble getting on the grounds?’ Ehlana asked him.

‘Not a bit, your Majesty.’

‘I should hope not – not after the fuss I made.’ She looked more closely at the figurines. ‘These are really lovely Caalador,’ she said. ‘Where did you get them?’

‘I had them stolen from the museum at the university,’ he shrugged. ‘They’re ninth century Tegan – very rare and very valuable.’ He grinned at her impishly. ‘Iff’n yer Queenship’s got this yere passion fer antikities, y’ might’s well git th’ real thang.’

‘I
love
to listen to this man talk,’ Ehlana said.

Baroness Melidere escorted the others into the royal quarters.

‘Any problems?’ Stragen asked his brother thief.

‘Got in slicker’n a weasel burrowin’ into a hen-roost.’

‘Please, Caalador, spare me.’

Caalador was serving the Queen of Elenia in the capacity of ‘procurer of antiquities’, and by her orders he was to be granted immediate access to her at any
time. One or the other of the knights had escorted him onto the grounds several times during the past several weeks in order to familiarize the guards at the gates with his face, but this was the first time he had tried to gain entry by himself. Their assorted subterfuges were growing more and more subtle. ‘Has anything meaningful turned up, Master Caalador?’ Zalasta asked.

‘I’m not entirely sure, learned one,’ Caalador frowned. ‘We keep running into something a little peculiar.’

‘Oh?’

‘All sorts of people are talking about something called “the Hidden City”. They’re the very people we’ve been watching, so we thought it might have some significance.’

‘It
is
a bit unusual,’ Zalasta agreed. ‘It’s not the sort of thing you’d expect to hear noised about on the streets.’

‘It actually means something then?’

Zalasta nodded. ‘It’s an old Tamul platitude that has to do with the life of the mind. Are they saying, “The way to the Hidden City is long, but the rewards to be found there are treasures beyond price”?’

‘That’s it exactly, learned one. Two people meet on the street, one of them recites the first half, and the other recites the second.’

Zalasta nodded. ‘The platitude’s supposed to refer to the rewards of the search for knowledge and enlightenment. I’d suspect some other significance in this case, however. Are your people hearing it from anybody other than Tamuls?’

Caalador nodded. ‘A couple of Elene merchants greeted each other with it on a street-corner just yesterday.’

‘It sounds very much like a sign and countersign,’ Vanion mused.

‘I’d hate to concentrate all our efforts on something
like that to the exclusion of everything else,’ Zalasta said cautiously.

‘Aw, ‘taint no big thang, yer sorcerership,’ Caalador assured him. ‘I’m up t’ m’ ears in beggars an’ whores an’ sneak thieves an’ sich. I got what y’ might call a embarrassment o’ riches in that deportment.’

Zalasta looked puzzled.

‘He says he’s got more than enough people at his disposal, Zalasta,’ Sephrenia translated.

‘It’s a colourful dialect, isn’t it?’ Zalasta observed mildly.

Ulath was frowning. ‘I’m not entirely positive,’ he said, ‘but it seemed to me that I heard two of the palace guards talking about “the Hidden City” a few days ago. There might be more people involved than we thought.’

Vanion nodded. ‘It may not lead anywhere,’ he said, ‘but it won’t hurt anything if we all keep our ears open. If Caalador
has
stumbled across the password of the other side, it could help us to identify conspirators we might otherwise miss. Let’s compile a sort of a list. Let’s gather the names of all these people who hunger and thirst for the hidden city of the mind. If this
is
a sign and countersign, and if it’s in any way connected to what we’re looking for, let’s have a group of names to work with.’

‘You’re starting to sound very much like a policeman, Lord Vanion,’ Talen said, half accusingly.

‘Can you ever forgive me?’

‘Oh, by the way, I saw an old friend at the university,’ Bevier told them with a faint smile. ‘It seems that Baron Kotyk’s brother-in-law’s come to Matherion to expose the Department of Contemporary Literature to his unspeakable art.’

‘Wouldn’t “inflict” be a better word there, Bevier?’ Ulath asked. ‘I’ve heard some of Elron’s poetry.’

‘Who’s Elron?’ Sephrenia asked.

Sparhawk exchanged a long look with Emban. They were still bound by the oaths they had given Archimandrite Monsel. ‘Ah –’ he began, not quite sure how to proceed, ‘he’s an Astel – a sort of semi-aristocrat with literary pretensions. We’re not sure just how much he’s involved in the disturbances in Astel, but his opinions and sympathies seem to indicate that he’s a strong supporter of the man known as Sabre.’

‘Isn’t it a coincidence that he just happens to have made the trip to Matherion at just about the same time that we’re getting a strong odour of dead fish in the streets?’ Tynian asked. ‘Why would he come to the very centre of the culture of the godless yellow devils he professes to hate?’

‘Unusual,’ Ulath agreed.

‘Anything that’s unusual is suspicious,’ Kalten asserted.

‘That’s a gross generalisation,’ Sparhawk accused.

‘Well, isn’t it?’

‘In this case you might be right. Maybe we’d better keep an eye on him. You’d better pull out your drawing pad again, Talen.’

‘You know, Sparhawk,’ the boy said, ‘I could make a lot of money drawing these pictures if you weren’t so set on making a Pandion of me and saddling me with all those high ideals.’

‘Service is its own reward, Talen,’ Sparhawk replied piously.

‘Caalador,’ Sephrenia said thoughtfully.

‘Yes, yer sorceress-ship?’

‘Please, don’t do that,’ she said wearily. ‘There are a number of these so-called firebrands loose in Tamuli. Is it at all possible that some of the local thieves might have seen any of them?’

‘I’ll ask around, Lady Sephrenia, and I can send to the other kingdoms for people who’ve seen them if I
have to. I’m not sure how much good physical descriptions are going to be, though. If you say that a man’s sort of medium, that’s going to include about half the population almost by definition.’

‘She can go beyond physical descriptions, Caalador,’ Talen assured him. ‘She’ll wiggle her fingers at your witnesses and put an image of the person they’ve seen in a pail of water. I can draw a picture from that.’

‘It might not be a bad idea to have pictures of these various patriots in circulation,’ Sephrenia murmured. ‘If Elron and Krager are here, others may decide to visit Matherion as well. If they’re going to hold a convention, we should know about it, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Shouldn’t you add a picture of Count Gerrich as well?’ Danae suggested.

‘But he’s all the way across the world in Lamorkand, Princess,’ Kalten pointed out.

‘He’s
still
one of the people involved, Kalten,’ she said. ‘If you’re going to do something, do it right. How much is it going to cost? A few sheets of paper maybe? And the use of Talen’s pencil for half an hour?’

‘All right, include him. I don’t care. I don’t think he’ll ever show up here, but go ahead and have Talen draw his picture, if you want.’

‘Oh, thank you, Kalten. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

‘Isn’t it nearly her nap-time?’ Kalten asked sourly.

‘Speaking of Krager,’ Sparhawk said, ‘have there been any new sightings of him?’

‘Just those two I mentioned earlier,’ Caalador replied. ‘Is he the kind who’s likely to go to ground?’

‘That’s Krager, all right,’ Kalten said. ‘He’s perfectly at home with sewer rats – being at least half-rat himself. As long as there was someone around to fetch wine for him, he’d be quite happy to stay down a rat-hole for six months at a stretch.’

‘I
really
want him, Caalador,’ Sparhawk grated. ‘My friends are all having a wonderful time telling me that they told me so.’

‘I didn’t follow that one,’ Caalador said with a puzzled look.

‘They all think I should have killed him. Even Sephrenia’s all athirst for his blood.’

‘Well, now, m’ friend,’ Caalador drawled, ‘I kin make a
real
good case fer jist how forchoonate-like it wuz that y’ din’t kill ‘im. You an’ yer friends here all knows this yere Krager feller, an’ he’s some kinda high mucketymuck on t’other side – which it is that he wouldn’t a’ bin iffn y’d slit his weasand, now would he? We
knows
this yere Krager, an’ we’ll chase im’ down sooner er later an’ set fire t’ his feet until he storts talkin’. If’n he wuz t’ be a absolute stranger, we wouldn’t have no idea a-tall ‘bout who we wuz a-lookin’ fer, now would we?’

Sparhawk smiled beatifically around at his friends. ‘See,’ he said to them. ‘I told you I knew what I was doing.’

Later that day, Sparhawk and Ehlana met with Emperor Sarabian and Foreign Minister Oscagne to discuss their findings to date. ‘Is it at all possible that anyone in the government might have noticed people using this sign and counter-sign, your Excellency?’ Sparhawk asked Oscagne.

‘
Quite
possible, Prince Sparhawk.’ Oscagne replied. ‘The interior ministry’s got spies everywhere, but their reports probably won’t surface for six months to a year. They’re great paper-shufflers over at Interior.’

‘Subat’s got his own spies,’ Sarabian said moodily, ‘but he wouldn’t tell me if he’s discovered anything. I doubt that he’d tell me if someone had cut the Isle of Tega adrift and towed it away.’

‘All the traditions of the Prime Ministry tell him to
protect you, your Imperial Majesty,’ Oscagne told him. ‘Despite that little talk you had with him, you’ll still probably have to pry information out of him. He devoutly believes that it’s his duty to spare you the anguish of hearing unpleasant news.’

‘If my house is on fire, I’d rather not be spared the anguish of finding out about it,’ Sarabian said tartly.

‘I have informants in the other ministries, your Majesty. I’ll put them to work on it. Speaking of that, by the way, Interior’s been getting a great many reports of disturbances – far more than we were experiencing previously. Kolata’s at his wits end.’

‘Kolata?’ Sparhawk asked.

‘The Minister of the Interior,’ Sarabian said, ‘the empire’s chief of police. He’s almost as good at keeping secrets from me as Subat is. What’s afoot now, Oscagne?’

‘The graveyards have been spitting out their dead, your Majesty. Someone’s been digging up the recently deceased and re-animating them. They shamble about moaning and blank-eyed. Whole villages in Edom have been abandoned because of them. The werewolves are running in packs in Daconia, the vampires in the jungles of Arjuna are flocking up like migratory birds, and the Shining Ones are terrorising the region around Dasan. Add to that the fact that the Trolls are on the march in northern Atan and that the town of Sarna’s been attacked twice by what appear to be Cyrgai, and we have some fair evidence that things may be coming to a head. In the past, these disturbances were sporadic and localised. Now they’re becoming general.’

‘Wonderful,’ Sarabian said sourly. ‘I think I’ll just go into exile somewhere.’

‘You’ll miss all the fun, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk told him.

‘What fun?’

‘We haven’t even begun to take counter-measures yet. We might not be able to do too much about vampires and the like, but we can definitely move against the Trolls and the Cyrgai. Engessa’s been training the local Atans in certain Elene tactics. I think Engessa’s Atans might be able to deal with the Trolls and the Cyrgai,’ Sparhawk said.

Sarabian looked a bit surprised. ‘Atan Engessa’s the commander of the garrison at Cenae in Astel,’ he said. ‘He doesn’t have any authority here in Matherion.’

‘As a matter of fact he does, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk disagreed. ‘I gather that he’s received a special commission from King Androl – or Queen Betuana, more than likely. Other Atan commanders have been ordered to follow his suggestions.’

‘Why doesn’t anybody ever tell me these things?’

‘Imperial policy, your Majesty,’ Oscagne smiled. ‘If you were to know too much, you might start interfering with the government.’

‘Anyway,’ Sparhawk continued, ‘Engessa was very impressed with our tactics in the encounters we had on our way here. We’ve been training some of his Atans in Western techniques.’

‘That’s surprising,’ Sarabian said. ‘I wouldn’t have expected Atans to listen to anybody when it came to military matters.’

‘Engessa’s a professional, your Majesty,’ Sparhawk told him. ‘Professionals are always interested in technical advances in weaponry and tactics. We rounded up some very large draught-horses so that we could mount a number of his Atans, and Kalten and Tynian have been giving them instruction with the lance. That’s the safest way to deal with Trolls, we’ve found. Bevier’s taken another group in hand, and he’s teaching them how to construct and use siege-engines. When we encountered those Cyrgai outside Sarsos, Bevier’s catapults
broke up their phalanx. It’s very hard to maintain a military formation when it’s raining boulders. Oh, there’s something else we should be aware of. Khalad found a tree outside town that was riddled with short steel arrows. Someone’s been practising with a crossbow.’

‘What’s a crossbow?’ Sarabian asked.

‘It’s a Lamork weapon, your Majesty.’ Sparhawk scribbled a quick sketch. ‘It looks something like this. The limbs are much stronger than those of an ordinary long-bow, so it has greater range and penetrating power. It’s a serious threat to an armoured knight. Someone here in Matherion’s working on a way to counter the advantage our armour gives us.’

‘It’s beginning to sound as if I’m hanging on to my throne by my fingertips,’ Sarabian said. ‘Could I appeal to you for political asylum, Ehlana?’