Savage Scorpio [Dray Prescot #16]

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Savage Scorpio [Dray Prescot #16] Page 20

by Alan Burt Akers


  And I held up my hands, palms outwards, as I marched.

  A small quick gesture from the emperor halted the reflex action of the bodyguard lining out each side of the throne. These guards, too, were Chuliks. I did not like the look of this at all. I have employed Chuliks as mercenaries, for they are powerful fighters; but the numbers of them, the positions they occupied, argued some calamity had befallen the Crimson Bowmen, or some other deviltry was at work.

  “You are banished from Vondium, son-in-law. Tell me why I should not order you cast down to the deepest dungeons?"

  “Because you know that will not serve you.” I looked about, for the moment ignoring the few men and women in attendance on him, looking for certain faces I hungered to see.

  “Where is Delia? Where are Drak and Jaidur?"

  “Well may you ask, Dray Prescot. Since I am well again I have seen nothing of—"

  I held onto my roaring senses. Didn't the buffoon know what had happened? Probably not. He'd been on the point of death in his imperial bed, and then he'd been dumped down in his palace full of life. Probably he had no memory of what had intervened, or of that moment of lucidity in the Pool.

  “You remember your request to your daughter?"

  “I have made many requests of her. She usually refuses."

  “And damned sensible, too! So you don't remember."

  “Enough of this—” he started to say, getting his temper up, which with him was deplorably easy.

  “I want to see Delia and the children!” I stopped at the foot of the dais and my left hand rested on the hilt of the Krozair longsword, which I wore angled out almost parallel with the ground, jutting, arrogant, I confess, very boastfully. The rapier hanging from its baldric looked thin and puny in contrast.

  “And I would like to see some of these people you tell me are my friends. I was near unto death—and what happened to you and your friends?"

  “I was banished—or have you forgotten?"

  His dark, heavy face flushed. He was back to full health, all right. Why, the old devil had never felt better in his life.

  “This Seg Segutorio, this Inch of the Black Mountains, kovs, both of them, because I gave you the gifting. I have my loyal men about me now.” His powerful face showed an intensity of belief. “I have made a winnowing of my enemies. Now I have loyal friends and an impregnable bodyguard of Chuliks—"

  I laughed. I, Dray Prescot, laughed. The laugh was filled with scorn, contemptuous.

  “Impregnable?"

  He swallowed down bile for a space. But he was not beaten by mere words; he was emperor. “I let you live. One word from me and you die."

  “And your daughter?"

  That nettled him sorely.

  It did more than that. I fancied I knew what had happened. No matter where Delia had landed back in Vallia, she had swiftly organized fliers, men and weapons, supplies. Then she had gone haring off back to the forbidden island of Ba-Domek. She had gone to find me. And, no doubt, everyone else of our company she could find had gone with her.

  That was an eventuality I had hoped to forestall. But I was too late. So, since the emperor was safe, I had no more business with him.

  One more fact remained to be established.

  “Of these people you stigmatize by calling them my friends.” I named the people I meant, the brave company who had flown with me to Aphrasöe carrying the dying body of this emperor with us. He knew them and of their loyalty to me. “Are there any in Vondium now?"

  “No, son-in-law. Not one. Not a single person of those you champion so loudly. I tell you, I have friends, and I know where to look for succor."

  He started to shake with anger, working himself up. A further thought occurred to me. I was aware of a small side door opening and of the guards springing to assist the people who entered; but I wanted to ask the emperor one last question before I retired.

  “You were nearly dying, emperor. Now you are well. Do you know how that was accomplished?"

  “Of course. Need you ask?"

  His reply astonished me. He was looking off to the side, to the group of people who had entered and who now came up to the foot of the dais, bowing with the air of those who had power and authority at the emperor's hand.

  “Here, Dray Prescot, are those who saved me. Loyal subjects all. To them, I owe my life and Vallia. They should be the lesson you so sorely need."

  He gestured, raising them up from their postures of reverence. I looked.

  Oh, I looked, like an idiot, like an onker, like the stupid simpleton I am.

  These were the people Delia's father put his trust in, these the folk he had given power, and chief among them Doctor Charboi, and hard, bright, cutting, Ashti Melekhi, the Vadnicha of Venga.

  * * *

  Chapter Nineteen

  "There Stands the Notorious Dray Prescot!"

  “Why is this man allowed to wear swords in the presence of the emperor? Disarm him, instantly!"

  The vicious words of Ashti Melekhi spattered into the bright radiance of the throne room.

  The guard Chulik—he was an ord-Jiktar and therefore very high in the guard, probably the third in command—stepped down from the dais heading for me, and he half-drew his rapier.

  “Wait, wait, my dear Ashti!” called the emperor.

  I felt nausea at his way of addressing her.

  Down in Djanduin my warrior Djangs would feel naked and dishonored to appear in the presence of their king without a ceremonial djangir buckled up to their harness. But this was Vallia, and only on special occasions would the court wear anything other than fancy smallswords for decorative purposes. Vallia was a civilized country.

  “This man, Ashti, is the Prince Majister.” He relished his power. “There stands the notorious Dray Prescot! He is my son-in-law, I am afraid. I do not care for him overmuch; but he has served me well on occasion. He is a man of swords, a man of blood, a man of violence."

  I felt the outrage, “I am not a man of blood!” I bellowed. “I am a man of peace!"

  “That is as may be. But you may keep your swords."

  The Chulik Jiktar slapped his rapier back. He looked annoyed, as though denied a pleasure. But the emperor knew me better than this yellow-faced, tusked, malevolent Chulik.

  The emperor knew I was more malevolent on occasion than any Chulik born—and this, too, was for my sins.

  Melekhi stared at me. Charboi had the grace to shuffle away, eyes cast down, and stand nervously some distance off. Ashti Melekhi! A long cool gown of green she wore, with golden motifs, and the strigicaw seizing the korf, her badge, emblazoned upon breast and arm and thigh. She stared challengingly at me and I sensed she had an inkling that I had taken the emperor away, following his gasped instructions, and was not yet prepared to take up that particular challenge. The emperor believed she and Charboi had cured him. To challenge me now, openly, would raise awkward questions, and she wanted to choose her time and place for the confrontation.

  I said: “Twelve friends of yours paid me a call. I hope they spoke well of me."

  She started, and controlled herself, her thin cheeks pinching in. I noticed she wore a small sword that was, in reality, a strong and cunning dagger, emblazoned with gems.

  “Oh,” she says, very sure of herself. “No doubt you will meet some more of my—friends—very soon."

  “I welcome it. Let them come swiftly. The canals are cooling in the hot weather."

  The emperor made a sign and a beautiful girl ran across to give him a drink of parclear. He drank, thirstily. “I don't know what foolery this is; but anyone knows the canals of Vallia are deadly to those not of the canalfolk. Now, Dray Prescot, say what you have to say and go."

  “The banishment upon me is lifted?"

  Melekhi gasped at this; but the emperor, after another insolent drink, and having his mouth wiped by a Fristle fifi, nodded. “Yes. But if you err again, son-in-law—"

  “Only time will tell that. For there are things you must know. And you will not
relish the telling of them."

  “And will the word onker come into it?"

  “Only if an onker listens, instead of an emperor."

  His face swelled up again, and he thundered out: “You try my patience sorely! Have a care. You had best go while your head is still on your shoulders."

  Considering it redundant once more to point out what that order had come to in the past, I nodded stiffly to him. I faced Ashti Melekhi. I did not smile, as is my wont, and I kept my face as naturally molded into its ugly old lineaments as I could. All the same, something showed, for her eyes narrowed and the tip of a red tongue flicked her lips.

  Nath the Iarvin started at this, and stilled. All the time his bulky form towered at Ashti Melekhi's shoulder, silent, unspeaking, his small dark eyes watchful. He still wore the brown leather tunic and buff breeches, with the wide, black, silver-studded belt girt up around his gut. The lockets for his rapier swung empty; but he carried a twin to the dagger worn by Melekhi. The sheer ferocity of that lowering face impressed me once again. This man had been bought body and soul by Melekhi, he would fight and kill and die for her and joy in the doing of it.

  I walked out with my shoulders held braced, my boots clacking on the polished marble floor. At the door where Womoxes hoisted up the bar and swung it away, folding the panels open, I turned back. The emperor sat forward on his throne, watching, and the others remained still in the postures I had left them.

  “I give you Remberee, emperor. We shall meet again—"

  “Not if Opaz wills it,” he shouted after me.

  So I went out and took myself off. This time I was allowed through. But the looks I took from some of the Chuliks heartened me. They hadn't seen the half of it, yet.

  The voller lifted off smartly and I turned in the direction of the Great Northern Cut and Bargom's Rose of Valka— and then my hands clicked the control levers over. No. No, I did not wish just yet to become embroiled with stikitches. The assassins Melekhi would send must wait. Business before pleasure.

  Information was vital, information I needed but that could not have been asked for from any of those in the throne room. Although I have an ugly old figurehead and a pair of shoulders that are somewhat on the wide side, it is possible for me on a world like Kregen to disguise myself adequately. A large hat, perhaps a false beard, a long cloak, the cunning application of makeup and a different walk, these things work wonders.

  The voller was dropped at our Delphondian villa, a piece of work rapid in the extreme, for Melekhi would probably send her assassins to all my villas as well as The Rose of Valka. With Shadow safely stabled in a public livery, for I might need him in a hurry, I could stroll into The Savage Woflo, a riotous tavern where soldiers and guards gathered, and fling a few silver stivers across the table and roar for good Vallian ale.

  The sight of my father-in-law's face glinting upon the stivers, a variety of propaganda slogans and pictures on the reverses, did not altogether please me; but the money fetched ale, and company, and I could settle down before the singing began. Here in The Savage Woflo information could be come by. Because of the many lords in Vondium the tavern was crowded with their guards. Colors blazed in the mineral-oil lamps. Soon I was being filled in with all the latest gossip.

  A few Crimson Bowmen sat drinking, and most of them looked glum. There were few Pachaks. The Chuliks outnumbered all. This, I owned to myself, was passing strange. Vondium had recovered from the dread spell of impending doom that hung over the city like a pall when the emperor lay dying. Now he was back in his palace, hale and well, Vondium could go back to the usual round of commerce and industry, secure that all was well with Vallia. By careful talk, by intimating I knew more than I did, I got out the story.

  Briefly: all the Crimson Bowmen and the Chuliks who had guarded the emperor's door that night had been discharged. I was amazed they had not been slaughtered out of hand. But that would have entailed stringent inquiries. Melekhi stood in a position of great power, that was undeniable. She was being used by an even more shadowy figure of greater power; and for an instant I trembled, thinking it might be Phu-si-Yantong. There was nothing to link him with this plot against the emperor personally; this was a palace intrigue, and Yantong had worked through his Black Feathers of the Great Chyyan against the whole of Vallia.

  Her mentor might be this Kov Layco. He was an astute man, holding the empire together for the emperor, guiding with ruthless and clever hands the destinies of all, trusted. Yes, he might cherish ambitions; it could be him. I tended to doubt it would be any Racter, for they attempted, for all their evil, to work through legal means. And for the Panvals the same held. There were many parties and factions ready to strike if the emperor died; now they were muzzled; but any one of them could own and instruct Ashti Melekhi in her evil designs.

  The emperor insisted these days on guards hired from the Chulik mercenaries. The Crimson Bowmen, like the Archer Guard of Valka assigned to duty around the emperor, had been sent off on distant expeditions into the country.

  Naghan Vanki, who, I knew, or thought I knew, was the emperor's spymaster, had recently, after his good work with the Chyyanists, been rewarded by being made Vad of Nav-Sorfall. The province was lush, rich with ponsho pastures, situated just east of Vomansoir. Because of this addition to his estates Naghan Vanki, the new vad, was off in Nav-Sorfall busily at work consolidating his position. I could not turn to him for immediate information on the plots and intrigues surrounding the emperor.

  To think, the woman who had bribed a doctor to poison the emperor was now held in great esteem by her intended victim! She would strike again, and soon. I stirred myself. The singing would begin soon; but because there were so-many Chuliks, the singing promised to be half-hearted and short if the yellow-tuskers did not remove themselves, as they usually did when there were not many of them.

  The last piece of information amused me. Queen Lushfymi, the Queen of Lome, whom men still called Queen Lush, despite the emperor's strict injunctions against the loss of dignity, was rumored to be hot on her way to the emperor's side.

  If the old devil married her, I'd heave a sigh of relief. That would take a deal of weight off Delia's and my shoulders.

  The Maiden with the Many Smiles shone down brilliantly as I wrapped my cloak about myself, pulling it up to my eyes, and set off for the palace. The first moon of Kregen showed those mysterious markings that had so often tantalized the astronomers of Kregen. Up there, on that world floating in space, were continents and islands and seas, and an atmosphere. The ever-changing radiance gave her her name. In that soft and fuzzy roseate moonlight I strode swiftly through the pink-tinged shadows.

  Vondium went about the usual pursuits of the great city after the suns had set and the moons ruled the skies. I avoided all entanglements. This time there was another Rapa guard at the Jasmine Tower beyond the Canal of Contentment. He went to sleep peacefully and I opened the plastered niche and, pulling the revolving stone free, passed swiftly down the slimed stairs.

  The lantern showed nitered walls, dripping thick with green slime, and the darkly patterned stairs. That first Rapa guard had recovered, all right, and said nothing, greeting his relief with a hearty: “All's well!” So do mortal men's sins find them out and aid hairy old villains like me.

  Reaching the secret panel that led onto the emperor's chamber, I paused. He had plenty of bedrooms to choose from. Maybe he wouldn't relish sleeping again in the room in which he had so nearly died. I'd find him, though, if I had to roam all through the palace.

  What I really wanted to do was take voller and fly as swiftly as I could after Delia, on toward Ba-Domek and Aphrasöe. But I conceived I had a duty to the emperor; the old devil owed me, and I suppose, really, I owed him. He was Delia's father. I could not let him be killed. I could not abandon him to his fate.

  I pushed the panel in soundlessly.

  Anyway, I did not want the forces controlling Ashti Melekhi to slay the emperor and gain their coveted powers—I did not want the
m to win.

  Intrigue, dark plots, the shadows of night, the hushed footfall—these were games I would play, I decided, as I padded into the chamber. The room stood empty, a few faintly glimmering lamps reflecting from the old polished furniture. The wide bed lay with its covers turned back. A golden tray rested on a low table at the side. Miscils, palines, purple wine of Wenhartdrin in a golden vessel with two golden cups—the old devil was all set up for the night, then.

  A noise at the door, the oiled creak of its opening, light splashing sharply across the rugs of Walfarg weave. I moved back into the shadows of the overhanging draperies. He walked in with a few handmaids and servants, scolding them, full of good humor. Eventually, when he was dressed in a long crimson brocaded gown he shooed them out. As the door closed he shouted out jovially past them to the corridor: “And mind you stand a good watch, my bonny Chuliks."

  They were bonny all right, working for anyone who paid them. If someone else had crossed their yellow palms with more gold than the emperor, they'd as lief slit his throat as stand a good guard.

  He started up when I stepped out into the lamplight. His face worked with shock. His hand darted to the golden bell.

  I put my hand over his and the bell hung mute.

  “Ha!” he cried. “Murder, is it?"

  “No.” I held him gently. “I mean you no harm, as I have told you often enough. I wish to talk to you. For the sake of your daughter and your grandchildren, will you bear me out?"

  The bell must be removed from his clutching fingers, for I would not trust him, as I trust no one save a very few on Kregen and Earth.

  “Talk? You talk big, son-in-law. But you desert me when danger—"

  “You banished me. Forget that. You remember nothing of your illness?"

  He shook his head. For a space, so long as I offered him no violence, he would humor me and listen ... “No. I remember nothing. I was ill. Ashti cured me."

  I let him go but I did not step back. I stared at him. “Listen to me, emperor, and mark me well. You were poisoned.” He started up angrily at this, but I went on doggedly. “The name of the poison was solkien concentrate—"

 

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