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Authors: David Eddings

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BOOK: The Hidden City
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Sparhawk took the ring and slipped it onto his finger. I see,' he said in a calm voice. ‘What happened then, Baroness?'

‘Scarpa told your wife that he and his friends were taking her and Alean as hostages. He said that you were so foolishly attached to her that you'd give him anything for her safe return. He obviously intends to exchange her for the Bhelliom. Krager had a note already prepared. He cut off a lock of Ehlana's hair to include in the note. I gather that there'll be other notes, and each one will have some of her hair in it to prove that it's authentic. Then they took Ehlana and Alean and left.'

‘Thank you, Baroness,' Sparhawk said, his voice still steady. ‘You've shown amazing courage in this unfortunate business. May I have the note?'

Melidere reached under her pillow again, took out a folded and sealed piece of parchment, and handed it to him.

Berit had loved his Queen from the moment he had
first seen her sitting on her throne encased in crystal, although he had never mentioned the fact to her. There would be other loves in his life, of course, but she would always be the first. So it was that when Sparhawk broke the seal, unfolded the parchment, and gently removed the thick lock of pale blonde hair, Berit's mind suddenly filled with flames. His grip tightened round the haft of his war-axe.

Khalad took him by the arm, and Berit was dimly startled by just how strong his friend's grip was. ‘That's not going to do anybody any good at all, Berit,' he said in a crisp voice. ‘Now why don't you just give me the axe before you do something foolish with it?'

Berit drew in a deep, trembling breath, pushing away his sudden, irrational fury. ‘Sorry, Khalad,' he said. I sort of lost my grip there for a moment. I'll be all right now.' He looked at his friend. ‘Sparhawk's going to let you kill Krager, isn't he?'

‘So he says.'

‘Would you like some help?'

Khalad flashed him a quick grin. ‘It's always nice to have company when you're doing something that takes several days,' he said.

Sparhawk quickly read the note, his free hand still gently holding the lock of Ehlana's pale hair. Berit could see the muscles rippling along his friend's jaw as he read. He handed the note to Vanion. ‘You'd better read this to them,' he said bleakly.

Vanion nodded and took the note. He cleared his throat.

‘ “Well now, Sparhawk,' ” he read aloud. “‘I gather that your temper-tantrum's over. I hope you didn't kill
too
many of the people who were supposed to be guarding your wife.

‘ “The situation here is painfully obvious, I'm afraid. We've taken Ehlana hostage. You
will
behave yourself,
won't you, old boy? The tiresomely obvious part of all of this is that you can have her back in exchange for Bhelliom and the rings. We'll give you a few days to rant and rave and try to find some way out of this. Then, when you've come to your senses and realize that you have no choice but to do exactly as you're told, I'll drop you another note with some rather precise instructions. Do be a good boy and follow the instructions to the letter. I'd really rather not be forced to kill your wife, so don't try to be creative.

‘ “Be well, Sparhawk, and keep an eye out for my next note. You'll know it's from me because I'll decorate it with another lock of Ehlana's hair. Pay very close attention, because if our correspondence continues for
too
long, your wife will run out of hair, and I'll have to start using fingers.”

‘And it's signed “Krager”,' Vanion concluded.

Kalten smashed his fist into the wall, his face rigid with fury.

‘That's enough of that!' Vanion snapped.

‘What are we going to do?' Kalten demanded. ‘We have to do
something!'

‘We're
not
going to jump eight feet into the air and come down running, for a start,' Vanion told him.

‘Where's Mirtai?' Kring's voice had a note of sudden alarm.

‘She's perfectly all right, Domi,' Sarabian assured him. ‘She was a little upset when she found out what happened.'

‘A
little?'
Oscagne murmured. ‘It took twelve men to subdue her. She's in her room, Domi Kring – chained to the bed, actually. There are some guards there as well to keep her from doing herself any injury.'

Kring abruptly turned and left Melidere's bedroom.

‘We're tiring you, aren't we, Baroness?' Sarabian said then.

‘Not in the least, your Majesty,' she replied in a cool voice. She looked around at them. ‘It's a bit cramped in here. Why don't we adjourn to the sitting-room? I'd imagine we'll be most of the night at this, so we might as well be comfortable.' She threw back her blankets and started to get out of bed.

Stragen gently restrained her. Then he picked her up.

‘I can walk, Stragen,' she protested.

‘Not while I'm around, you can't.' Stragen's customary expression of civilized urbanity was gone as he looked around at the others, and it had been replaced with one of cold, tightly suppressed rage. ‘One thing, gentlemen,' he told them. ‘When we catch up with these people, Elron's mine. I'll be very put out with anybody who accidentally kills him.'

Baroness Melidere's eyes were quite content, and there was a faint smile on her face as she laid her head on Stragen's shoulder.

Caalador was waiting for them in the sitting-room. His knees and elbows were muddy, and there were cobwebs in his hair. ‘I found it, your Majesty,' he reported to the Emperor. ‘It comes out in the basement of that barracks the Church Knights have been using.' He looked appraisingly at Sparhawk. ‘I'd heard you were back,' he said. ‘We've managed to pick up a little information for you.'

‘I appreciate that, Caalador,' Sparhawk replied quietly. The big Pandion's almost inhuman calm had them all more than a little on edge.

‘Stragen was a bit distracted after what happened to the Baroness here,' Caalador reported, ‘so I was left more or less to my own devices. I took some fairly direct steps. The ideas were all mine, so don't blame him for them.'

‘You don't have to do that, Caalador,' Stragen said,
carefully tucking a blanket round Melidere's shoulders. ‘You didn't do anything I didn't approve of.'

‘I take it that there were a few atrocities,' Ulath surmised.

‘Let me start at the beginning,' Caalador said, brushing his hands through his hair, trying to dislodge the cobwebs. ‘One of the men we'd been planning to kill during the Harvest Festival managed to evade my cut-throats, and he sent me a message offering to exchange information for his life. I agreed to that, and he told me something I didn't know about. We knew that there were tunnels under the lawns here in the imperial compound, but what we
didn't
know is that the ground under the whole city's honeycombed with more tunnels. That's how Krager and his friends got into the imperial grounds, and that's how they took the Queen and her maid out.'

‘Prithee, good Master Caalador, stay a moment,' Xanetia said. I have seen into the memories of the Minister of the Interior, and he had no knowledge of such tunnels.'

‘That wouldn't be hard to explain, Anarae,' Patriarch Emban told her. ‘Ambitious underlings quite often conceal things from their superiors. Teovin, Director of the Secret Police, probably had his eye on Kolata's position.'

‘That's most likely it, your Grace,' Caalador agreed. ‘Anyway, my informant knew the location of
some
of the tunnels, and I put men down there to look around for more while I questioned various members of the Secret Police who were in custody. My methods were fairly direct, and the ones who survived the questioning were more than happy to co-operate.

‘The tunnels were very busy on the night the Queen was abducted. The diplomats who were forted up in the Cynesgan Embassy knew about the scheme, and they realized that we'd kick down their walls as soon as we
found out that the Queen was gone. They tried to escape through the tunnels, but I already had men down in those rat-holes. There were a number of noisy encounters, and we either rounded up or killed just about the entire embassy staff. The Ambassador himself survived, and I let him watch while I interrogated several under-secretaries. I'm very fond of Queen Ehlana, so I was quite firm with them.' He looked at Sephrenia. I don't think I need to go into too much detail,' he added.

‘Thank you,' Sephrenia murmured.

‘The Ambassador didn't really know all that much,' Caalador continued apologetically, ‘but he
did
tell me that Scarpa and his friends were going south from here – which may or may not have been a ruse. His Majesty ordered the ports of Micae and Saranth sealed, and he put Atan patrols on the road from Tosa to the coast, just to be on the safe side. Nothing's turned up yet, so Scarpa either got away ahead of us, or he's gone down a hole someplace nearby.'

The door opened, and Kring rejoined them, his face gloomy.

‘Did you unchain her?' Tynian asked him.

‘That wouldn't be a good idea right now, friend Tynian. She feels personally responsible for the Queen's abduction. She wants to kill herself. I took everything with any kind of sharp edge out of the room, but I don't think it's really safe to unshackle her just yet.'

‘Did you get that spoon of hers away from her?' Talen asked.

Kring's eyes went wide. ‘Oh, God!' he exclaimed, bolting for the door.

‘If he'd only yell at us or bang his fist against the wall or something,' Berit murmured to Khalad the next morning when they gathered once again in the blue-draped sitting-room. ‘All he does is sit there.'

‘Sparhawk keeps his feelings to himself,' Khalad replied.

‘It's his
wife
we're talking about, Khalad! He sits there like a lump. Doesn't he have any feelings at all?'

‘Of course he does, but he's not going to take them out and wave them around for us to look at. Right now it's more important for him to think than to feel. He's listening and putting things together. He's saving up his feelings for when he gets his hands on Scarpa.'

Sparhawk sat in his chair with his daughter in his lap. He seemed to be studying the floor, and he was absently stroking Princess Danae's cat.

Lord Vanion was telling the Emperor and the others about Klæl and about their strategic disposition of forces: the Trolls to the Tamul mountains in south-central Tamul Proper, the Atans to Sarna, and Tikume's Peloi to Samar.

Flute was sitting quietly on Sephrenia's lap. Berit noticed something that hadn't occurred to him before. He glanced first at Princess Danae and then at the Child Goddess. They appeared to be about the same age, and their bearing and manner seemed very much alike for some reason.

The presence of the Child Goddess was having a peculiar effect on Emperor Sarabian. The brilliant, erratic ruler of the continent seemed dumbfounded by her presence and he sat gazing wide-eyed at her. His face was pale, and he was obviously not hearing a word Lord Vanion was saying.

Aphrael finally twisted round and returned his gaze. Then she slowly crossed her eyes at him.

The Emperor started back violently.

‘Didn't your mother ever tell you that it's not polite to stare, Sarabian?' she asked him.

‘Mind your manners,' Sephrenia chided.

‘He's supposed to be listening. If I want adoration, I'll get myself a puppy ‘

‘Forgive me, Goddess Aphrael,' the Emperor apologized. ‘I seldom have divine visitors.' He looked at her rather closely. ‘I hope you don't mind my saying so, but you rather resemble Prince Sparhawk's daughter. Have you ever met her Royal Highness?'

Sparhawk's head came up sharply, and there was a strange, almost wild look in his eyes.

‘Now that you mention it, I don't think I have,' Flute said. She looked across the room at the Princess. Berit noticed that Sephrenia's eyes were also just a bit wild as Flute slid down out of her lap and went across the room to Sparhawk's chair. ‘Hullo, Danae,' the Child Goddess said in an offhand sort of way.

‘Hullo, Aphrael,' the Princess replied in almost exactly the same tone. ‘Are you going to do something to get my mother back home?'

‘I'm working on it. Try to keep your father from getting too excited about this. He's no good to any of us when he flies all to pieces and we have to gather him up and put him back together again.'

‘I know. I'll do what I can with him. Would you like to hold my cat?'

Flute glanced at Mmrr, whose eyes were filled with a look of absolute horror. ‘I don't think she likes me,' she declined.

‘I'll take care of my father,' Danae assured the little Goddess. ‘You deal with these others.'

‘All right.' Aphrael paused. ‘I think we'll get on well together,' she said. ‘You wouldn't mind if I stopped by from time to time, would you?'

‘Any time, Aphrael.'

Something very peculiar was going on. Berit saw nothing unusual in the conversation between the two little girls, but Sparhawk's face – and Sephrenia's –
clearly showed that they were both very disturbed. Berit kept his expression casual and looked around. Everyone else had faintly indulgent smiles on their faces as they watched the exchange – all except Lord Vanion and Anarae Xanetia.
Their
faces were no less strained than Sparhawk's and Sephrenia's. Evidently something titanic had just happened, but for the life of him, Berit could not fathom out what it might have been.

‘I don't think we should discount the possibility,' Oscagne said gravely. ‘Baroness Melidere has demonstrated again and again the fact that she has a very penetrating mind.'

Thank you, your Excellency,' Melidere said sweetly.

‘I wasn't really being complimentary, Baroness,' he replied coolly. ‘Your intelligence is a resource to be exploited in this situation. You've seen Scarpa and we haven't. Do you really believe he's mad?'

BOOK: The Hidden City
9.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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