Empire of Avarice

by Tony Roberts

  The conversation in the barn was coming to an end. Markel was to lead three of them to his home and get the two guests while the other was to check on the equipment and assess their value. Lalaas had managed to hitch up two saddles, the ones that were ridden, and knew that trying to load up the pack animals would make too much noise, so he waited. The others left for Markel’s house, and the other man came sauntering over, looking in every nook and cranny for the equipment.

  He caught sight of the two equines saddled up and frowned. That was odd. He walked up to them and suddenly something swished through the air behind him and there came a sharp, sudden pain and then blackness. He pitched forward onto the straw and lay there. Lalaas picked up the torch and stamped on the flames that were catching the straw alight. He didn’t want that to happen. Putting the torch in a wall bracket, he now frantically loaded the equipment and saddles onto the two pack equines, and fixed their ropes to the two riding animals. He briefly considered stringing his bow, but the wet weather would make it pretty hard to use and probably ruin the string, so he left that where it was and led the animals out of the barn and back into the woods, retracing his steps with urgency.

  Meanwhile Amne had waited with increasing nervousness in the room, seated on the bed biting her lower lip and straining her ears for the slightest sound that may betray the approach of Markel and his friends, or the return of Lalaas. She was once again clothed and every few moments got up and peered out of the open window. There was nothing out in the dark except the rain.

  Finally she heard a sound from the front of the house and crept to the door listening. There were low voices in the house and she whimpered, stepping away and, her heart pounding furiously in her chest, crept over to the window. Now she was certain that there were people outside the door. The candle on the table flickered as another eddy of wind caught it, and then she saw the handle of the door begin to slowly rotate and there came the metallic click of the latch being opened. She pulled herself up onto the window ledge, shaking with fear, and sat on the lip. The door now moved slightly but the chair, wedged under the handle, stopped it. There came another sound, of force being applied to the door, and then a low voice saying something. Amne placed her legs over the edge and looked back as the door shook to a determined push, then dropped out and landed in the nettles, many already crushed by Lalaas’ passage. Taking one last look back at the door which was being forced open, the chair cracking under the pressure, she trotted off around the animal pen and made for the woods, watching the ground carefully, praying to the gods for Lalaas to return.

  Behind her a voice came, shouting out. She looked back and saw a face framed in the window, angrily yelling at her. She sobbed out and began running, stumbling as the uneven ground threatened to bring her headlong flight to a halt. The dark wood loomed in front of her and she plunged into it, tripping on a root and falling flat on her face with a shriek.

  Lalaas heard both that and the shout that preceded it, and crossed the track, pulling the unwilling equines after him, cursing their reluctance. He judged Amne was a short distance off to the left and ahead, and urged the animals to follow him into the darkness. “Amne!” he shouted.

  Amne heard him, and first thought it was one of the villagers, then realised it had been Lalaas. Sobbing in relief she got up and stumbled through the trees, her arms up to shield her face. Shouts were now coming from behind as the villagers came running out of the house and around to pursue her. “Here!” she cried out.

  Lalaas veered and angrily brushed aside a low branch that threatened to take out his eyes. He saw against the lights held by the villagers a small dark shadow stumbling hesitantly ahead. “Here, Amne.”

  With a cry Amne fell into his arms and they held each other for a moment. Then Lalaas took hold of her arm and guided her back, turning the equines around. “The track – we can’t mount up until we get there – the trees are too thick and low.”

  Handed the ropes to her equine and one pack animal, Amne followed Lalaas, holding his hand with one of hers and pulling her two animals with the other. The equines made things hard and their progress was slow, not helped by Amne’s rising panic as the shouts and lights got closer. Eventually it became clear they were cut off and the noise of their passage had pinpointed their position. Lalaas let go of Amne and passed her the rope to his beasts. “No other option now but to face them,” he muttered, sliding his sword out and turning to face their pursuers.

  Amne shrank behind him and clutched the ropes, shaking. Lalaas stepped forward two paces and stopped, watching as the flames of the torches got closer and closer, coming from left, right and ahead. Shapes materialised from the trees and four villagers came into view, armed with clubs. They halted when they saw Lalaas gripping his sword two-handed and facing them with determination. “Which of you fancies their chances, then?” he asked softly. “Who is going to be first to try their luck?”

  “You can go – we want the girl,” the nearest villager nodded in Amne’s direction.

  “You’ll have to kill me first,” Lalaas said grimly. “Now get it over with or step aside. I’m not in the mood for further conversation.”

  “Four to one” the villager said. “Fair odds. Forget him; we can get our earning from her alone.” The four dropped their torches, the flames hissing as the wet earth met the flames, and the light dimmed by about half. The four closed in but Lalaas sprang forward, his blade sweeping in a huge arc, causing them to all jump back in alarm. The hunter stepped to one side and hacked at the man to the left. As the villager stumbled back, shock in his eyes, the other three came in, clubs raised. Lalaas flung up his blade and blocked the downward blow of the nearest, and chips of wood went flying up where steel met it. Without hesitation Lalaas thrust his head forward and his forehead crashed into the nose of the man who cried out and staggered back, his hands clutching his ruined face.

  Amne screamed as one man grabbed her and she struggled against him for a moment. While this went on, the other villager tried to crush in Lalaas’ head but the blow was knocked aside by the blade of the hunter’s sword, and Lalaas sent in a fist that struck the man under the ribs, winding him. The first man who had stumbled back now came at Lalaas again and the hunter dodged desperately as he caught sight of the club swinging down at him.

  Pain exploded throughout Lalaas’ shoulder as the weapon struck but he was already countering, sweeping up with his sword inside the line of the blow from the club. Even as Lalaas cried out through the pain of the blow, his blade was sinking into the unprotected stomach of the villager. The man sucked in his last breath and sank to his knees, vainly trying to keep his intestines from spilling out from his torn open gut.

  Lalaas staggered to one side, his left arm hanging uselessly. He advanced on the man wrestling with Amne. “Let her go, you pimp!” he snapped.

  The villager slowly released her and stepped back, smiling widely. “Alright, alright, I’ve let go.”

  “Get back, go on, away!”

  The villager eyed the fallen man and the two others. One was holding his guts, whooping for breath while the other was sitting on the ground dazedly clutching a nose that was flowing with blood. “Pity we can’t have her,” the villager nodded at Amne, “we’d share the reward with you.”

  “Keep on talking like that and I’ll remove your tongue,” Lalaas snarled, the pain adding to his temper. “Now take your fallen comrade and get out of my way, or I’ll end your miserable life too.”

  “Alright, alright, we’re going!” the villager shrugged, still smiling. The way he was doing that sent shivers down Amne’s back. “But don’t think you’ll be able to get that far. She’ll fetch a really high price at market and someone here will take her from you. Best you put her in a collar and sell her quick before you lose the chance to make money.”

  Lalaas advanced, his face furious. The villager grabbed his winded colleague and pulled him to his side. “Come on, there’s no profit in trying to stop them. Let them go.”

 
“Let’s go, Amne,” Lalaas said, his eyes still on the three men, “you’ll be alright with all the beasts?”

  “Yes, I just want to be away from these horrible people as soon as possible.”

  Lalaas allowed Amne to precede him away from the watching three men. The way they regarded the two was almost – predatory. He backed off slowly, following the princess and the equines. “If I find you’re following us I’ll personally slay you all. Got that?”

  “Clearly,” the villager spokesman said calmly. “But two of you alone won’t get far. The word will get out and the money she’ll fetch will bring all the bounty hunters hereabouts running. Best you turn her over to us; at least she’ll be well treated until we get to the auctioneer’s block.”

  “Your tongue needs removing, friend.” Lalaas retreated now out of the little clearing the villagers were standing in and put a few trees in between him and them. He saw the villagers pick up their torches and move over to the body of their comrade. He turned and came up to the rear of the animals. Amne had stopped, unsure of where to go. Lalaas sheathed his sword and took her hand and guided her through a section of undergrowth and suddenly they found the track.

  They mounted up, the hurt hunter somewhat awkwardly, and Lalaas led her away from the village out into the countryside, the rain still pattering down and the dark of the night almost absolute. They would have to stop soon or lose their way completely. After a few moments Lalaas pulled Amne over and looked back. There was nothing but dark shapes against a slightly less dark background. “Can’t see a thing; we’ll have to stop or we’ll fall down some ditch or hole or something. I think we’re still on the track but I can’t be sure.”

  “What’s going to happen to us?” Amne asked, shivering.

  “We’ll be fine; it just needs a bit of planning, that’s all. Come on, help me get one tent up.”

  “One?” Amne asked, surprised.

  “We’re both cold and wet. We need to keep each other warm. And putting up and then putting down one tent will take half the time it does two. You tether the animals and keep their saddles on; I don’t want to be kept here long after we start packing. And I can’t use my left arm – it’s hurting like anything.”

  They got one tent up fast and a bed made. The rain eased which helped, and the waterproof covering of the tent fabric kept the water out. Their clothes were left hanging under the tent, Lalaas copying the clothes line trick the villagers had used, although he hadn’t got a fire handy. Amne got Lalaas out of his jacket and looked at the injury. The flesh was already badly bruised and it would be multi-coloured by morning. There was also a nasty cut where a jagged part of the club had impacted, and Amne dressed the wound as best she could. After that they huddled together under the blankets. Amne was surprised at how quickly she had agreed to Lalaas’ outrageous suggestion, but she was cold and wet, and she was frightened. She needed the comfort of Lalaas and clung to him. If her family could see her now they would be scandalised, but she didn’t care. It wasn’t them out here in the wilds, being hunted by people wanting to enslave her. Lalaas held her close, knowing she needed to be close to him that night. Those villagers had spoken about her as though she were nothing but an object to be bartered. And the threat that she would be hunted throughout the region had knocked any fight out of her. She would need Lalaas’ protection more than ever. He stroked her hair and she smiled, snuggling into him. It was an intimate time, a time Lalaas knew would not be repeated, and it still might get him into trouble, for if Astiras ever found out about this the emperor might well punish the hunter. A commoner simply did not snuggle princesses to them in their tents, each only dressed in their undergarments.

  Despite the seriousness of their situation, and despite the throbbing pain in his arm, Lalaas permitted himself a smile, too.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Evas Extonos was surprised to get a visit from Demtro. He was even more surprised at the paper Demtro threw down on his desk. “Tell them all to leave, now,” Demtro snapped with authority.

  Evas looked at his guards, then nodded. “I’ll call you if I need you,” he said. The two guards who always stood close to the governor looked reluctant, but they trooped out and closed the door behind them.

  “And him,” Demtro pointed at the advisor, Prelek.

  “Go on,” Evas said heavily, “Demtro is no threat.”

  Prelek gave Demtro an unfriendly look before following the guards out, leaving the two alone. Demtro hooked a foot out and pulled a chair towards him and sat down, lounging untidily across it. Evas picked up the document and read it carefully. Finally he passed it back to the merchant who folded it and put it back in an inside pocket.

  “Well, well, well,” the governor breathed out. “The empresses’ spy. I ought to have known.”

  “Spy is a little harsh,” Demtro said with a smile. “Representative would be much more to my liking.”

  “Spy will do; its also quite accurate,” Evas said acidly. “So what is it you’re here for?”

  “I have uncovered a Tybar plot to destabilise the imperial rule here in Niake. It could well be the prelude to an invasion. Knock out the ability of the local governor to defend the province and they can walk in almost unopposed and, snap!” he clicked his fingers, “another conquest.”

  “What proof do you have?” Evas asked.

  “Proof? Proof? Pah!” Demtro waved a hand dismissively. “Stop talking like a damned lawyer and start behaving like a man of action, which is what the empire needs here. Bathenia is no longer a core province; it’s on the front line and the Tybar are looking in your direction, slavering at the mouth. You’re next on their meal list so start getting tough!”

  “Perhaps you can advise me then what needs to be done?”

  Demtro frowned. “By the gods; do you still need your mother to breast feed on? Be a man; stop needing a wet nurse. Show everyone you’re Evas Extonos, governor of Niake, not some mewling child who needs their nappy changed by some guardian every time you need to make a decision. Or if not, I’ll sent a report back to Kastan to recommend you be replaced by someone who’ll go to this address,” and he threw the leaflet at him, “and arrest anyone there. I doubt you’ll find anyone, but the Tybar have been using it as a base. And that so-called priest preaching out there the other day; he’s a Tybar agent. He had a long beard previously but he shaved it off to look like a Kastanian priest.”

  “How do you know that?” Evas snapped, piqued by Demtro’s sarcasm.

  “His face, you idiot. His lower jaw and chin were not suntanned; the rest of his face was. Clearly he’d just shaved off a long-standing growth of beard, something Tybar priests and agents have as a matter of course. Must be some sort of fashion with them.”

  Evas looked doubtful. “You appear to know a lot about the Tybar.”

  “It’s my job to!” Demtro exploded. “It is your job to govern this city on behalf of the empire, not yourself! You are putting your own future ahead of the empire’s. Stop trying to please everyone all the time, governor, because you’ll be pissing into the wind with that one.”

  “Things are delicate here,” Evas tried to explain, “if we upset a group of people….”

  “If you upset a group of people too bad,” Demtro dismissed the objection abruptly. “If they don’t like it tell them to go live with the Tybar. If they carry on moaning arrest them. Hang a few publicly. It’s amazing just how fast the others rally round to your side when they see you do that.”

  Evas locked his fingers together and looked troubled. “There were two Tybar people in this office a few sevendays ago. One was bearded and looked like a priest to me.” He looked up. “But he said he didn’t speak Kastanian.”

  “And you believed him?” Demtro sighed. “Tsk tsk, governor. You need a healthy dose of cynicism to carry on effectively as a governor. Go rouse your indolent militia and get them exercised. Go out into the streets and tell the people the Tybar are coming; that they have spies and agents here in Niake. That’ll rattl
e these idiots.”

  “It may cause a riot,” Evas protested.

  “Phah! You see monsters under every bed. Rally the people to you. Can’t you see if you tell them there’s an outside danger threatening them all, they’ll look to you to protect them. This is your chance to prove to all you’re the right man for the job. Be their friend, be their protector. Make them realise you’re vital to them. It’s a skill any ruler ought to have. Have an ‘execute the Tybar spy’ day. Provide the masses with entertainment! They’ll love you.”

  Evas sat with his mouth open. “Are you mad?”

  “No, I’m trying to show you what it takes to properly rule a city. You can’t do it trying to please everyone; that way you actually do nothing and piss everyone off. Which, may I say, is what’s happening now. Are you attached to that chair? You don’t seem to be able to leave it. Go show yourself, show them you can take action to protect your people.”

  “You really are a disrespectful insolent man, aren’t you?” Evas said.

  “One of my finer points,” Demtro agreed. “I’m such a wonderful person to know. Just ask the girls.”

  Evas shook his head, muttering.

  Demtro leaned forward, his finger jabbing into the table. “Unless you get up off your backside and do something positive, you won’t be here in a sevenday’s time, I can tell you right now.”

  “Very well, if that’s my choice,” the governor said heavily, standing up.

  “It is. Oh and another thing; that man Prelek. Is he your advisor?”

  “Yes, why do you ask?”

  “Well he’s doing an absolutely appalling job. I’d get rid of him. What advice is he giving you? Sit here and grow roots?”

  “There’s no need to be disrespectful to everyone,” Evas said forcefully. “I trust you’re not like this with the empress.”