by James Gurley
* * *
After a brief but boring recitation by one of the Regents’ aides of the facts uncovered thus far concerning the king’s attempted assassination, which amounted to very little, the guards informed Tad that the repairs to the king’s room were not yet completed. They accompanied him to a large room near the top of the Black Tower. They used a lift Tad had never before noticed, located in a hallway across from the Council Chambers. The same rich, highly decorated wooden panels on the wall covered the well-concealed door. He watched, but still did not see how the guard actually opened the doors. The lift rose quickly, much faster than the smaller one on the Watchers’ Tower. He felt a momentary twinge of motion sickness, but luckily the journey was over before the bile could rise too far up his gullet. He was beginning to realize that the Black Tower was a labyrinth of secret rooms and hidden doors.
The room they entered was almost as large as the ground floor lobby, but more lavishly decorated. A small raised platform at one end of the room held music stands, probably for an orchestra. The room was therefore a ballroom of some kind. There were no true windows, but lights concealed behind large mock windows gave the impression of a sunny day outside the room. Large trees in stone planters and even a small bubbling fountain lent the room an outdoor garden quality.
King Karal sat with Simios beneath the drooping canopy of a large yew tree. The king played with a toy soldier. Simios, clad in a light blue robe with silver piping, looked up as Tad approached.
“How do you feel? I heard of your courageous actions to shield the king from harm.”
“The Medico said I was healing remarkably quickly,” Tad said, though his back ached considerably from his long walk. He noticed Simios eyeing him curiously while he stroked his beard. “Do you know who made this attempt on the king’s life?”
“There are some who point an accusatory finger at the Plin because the device was so strange, but we have no desire to harm the king. I examined the object and learned much. Though severely damaged by the fall, it yielded many of its dark secrets. In my search for answers, I located an ancient text that describes such an object, a laser, a device that harnesses the power of light to destroy. One man in particular has made a study of such ancient devices—a Terran. He is missing.”
Tad remembered Sira’s professor. Something in his mind clicked. “A professor at the University?” he ventured.
Simios frowned. “Yes, how did you know?”
He quickly explained.
“Yes, Professor Liess did not report for classes, nor did he sleep in his rooms last night. We have people searching the city for him, but I fear the worst.”
“If this professor is involved, what does it mean?”
“It is bad that he is Terran. If it is rebels or some evil more dire, only time will tell.”
Tad looked at Karal, seemingly oblivious to what they were saying. “I will have to be more watchful from now on.”
Simios nodded. “I will be nearby at all times. I am foregoing my regular studies for now to Watch this matter more closely. I will take rooms in the Black Tower near yours, but I will not interfere with your work.”
“There is another matter,” Tad said.
He repeated the poem spoken by the king in his trance. Since the assassination attempt, he had not been alone with Plin. Simios listened carefully while vigorously stroking his beard. Finally, he said, “Tell no one else of this.”
“Not even the Regents?” Tad asked.
“No. If it is truly an oracular vision, the Council of Regents will twist it to suit their purposes. I need time to ponder its meaning.”
“I’m frightened,” Tad admitted.
Simios smiled and rose. “I leave you with the king. The workers will complete the repairs to his rooms soon. It is good that he not spend the night in an unfamiliar environment.”
Tad started to tell Simios about the hidden rooms, but stopped. Perhaps it would be safer if no one else knew for now. Someone had made one attempt on the king’s life already. The king might need a safe haven.
“I will sleep in the young king’s room tonight,” he said. Simios stopped and looked at him for a few moments with a strange expression. Tad could not tell if it was concern or approval. He half-expected the Plin to argue his decision.
“That might be best,” he said finally, to Tad’s relief.
When Simios left, King Karal looked up at Tad. His face was blank as usual, but his eyes were alive with excitement.
“Tad stay?” he asked.
Tad smiled and nodded. “I will, Your Highness,” he answered formally.
The young king returned to his play. “Thank you, Tad,” he whispered.
The king’s high degree of coherency startled Tad. He wondered if Karal fully understood the gravity of the attack. If so, he showed no more concern once he learned of Tad’s decision to sleep in his room. He further wondered if the king understood more than others gave him credit. He decided at that point to keep nothing from his young ward and to speak with him as a fully cognizant teenager deserving of the same treatment he gave others.
“We will be back in your rooms soon, Your Highness,” he said.
The king, as usual, ignored him. Tad found a book of poetry and read it as Karal played. The poems were wordy and difficult to understand, but most spoke of the glory and beauty of Delphi. Most were several hundred years old and spoke of fierce battles and valiant sacrifices. Caught up in one epic, he failed to see the guards enter, escorting a short, heavyset Saddir in splendid robes. He recognized the man at once as Regent Saxtos. King Karal paid no attention to the intruder though Tad noticed a look of disgust cross his face for a moment.
“Regent Saxtos,” the guard announced loudly.
Tad bowed as Saxtos swept in, wondering why Saxtos wished to see the King.
“Ah, young Tad de Silva,” Saxtos said, smiling broadly. “I have heard such good things about you.”
Tad said nothing.
Saxtos continued. “I understand our king has rather taken to you, and your heroic actions of earlier . . . quite admirable.”
“Thank you.” Tad wondered why the Regent was more or less repeating things said earlier in the Council chambers. Saxtos had not been present, but the other regents would certainly have informed him of what they had revealed to Tad.
Saxtos pursed his lips and shook his head. “That someone should seek to harm the king is dastardly, almost unthinkable. We shall find them, be assured. We have offered a substantial reward for information. Someone will talk. They always do in these matters. There is never as much honor among thieves as they suppose.”
“Do you think it was rebels?” Tad offered.
Saxtos looked at him for a moment. “Rebels? How odd? Why should they wish to harm the King? He is, after all, Terran.”
“Are there no non-Terran rebels?”
“None of which I am aware—No, this dastardly, cowardly crime was instigated by outsiders—people who care not at all for either Terran or Saddir, if not the Triocs, then perhaps the Gecks. Both are too secretive for my taste.”
Tad pondered this. The Triocs were involved certainly, but had never shown signs of high intelligence. Why would the Gecks try to kill the King? What would anyone gain by his death, other than chaos? Another thought occurred to him, one he had asked of his uncle to no avail. He decided to ask Saxtos.
“Were the Triocs ever a space-faring race?” It seemed impossible that the Triocs were intelligent enough to venture into space, yet most considered them one of the races on Delphi and they were not an indigenous species.
Saxtos looked at him in surprise. “An odd question. I have heard that the Triocs arrived on Delphi as servants to another race, a mysterious group of travelers who wandered the galaxy on a religious quest of some kind. They remained for just a short time long before the Veil came. Some Triocs remained. Whether they were servants or simply pets, none can say, but as you have seen, the Triocs do not have the intelligence for space flight. Inde
ed, they are hardly more intelligent than dogs or drissel.”
Saxtos laughed at this, but Tad was busy digesting Saxtos’s answer.
“Then there are other races out there?”
Saxtos waved his hand in dismissal. “It is unlikely. We have heard nothing for half a millennium. I believe we here on Delphi are alone.”
Tad persisted. “But there could be others out there somewhere, even Terrans or Saddir.”
“Oh, I suppose, if you insist, but if there are survivors, why have they not come seeking us before now?”
“Maybe they fell as far as we did,” Tad suggested. “Was Scylla ever inhabited?”
Saxtos nodded. “At one time it was a Saddir colony. I fear they are gone. If so, then we are truly alone.” Saxtos burst into a broad smile. “But such maudlin thoughts are disturbing. Let us speak of other things.”
“What things?”
“Are the Plin treating you well?”
Tad nodded. “Yes, very well.”
“Good. You must inform me if you believe they try to force you to do things you feel are unseemly.”
“They won’t.”
“Just the same. Remember, I wish to be your friend here on Delphi. A high-placed friend can open many doors. You seem an intelligent lad. There could be a position in the government in your future.”
“Thank you, but I will need more schooling before then.”
“Good, good! An eager lad. It speaks well of you.” He glanced at the king, still oblivious to his presence. “Keep our young king safe. I know your Plin friends insist you watch him and make reports, but if the king makes a prophecy or says anything of interest, you must inform the Council first. It is your duty as a servant of the king.”
Tad thought of the strange poem King Karal had recited but something is Saxtos’s manner put him ill at ease in the Councilman’s presence. He heeded Simios’s advice and said nothing, yet Saxtos continued to stare at him as if expecting something. Finally, he continued.
“Saddir and Terran have long been allies and have the same goals. The Plin are mysterious and remarkably unconcerned with current affairs. They analyze and predict where Terrans and Saddir seek a more hands-on approach to things. Someone must lead, after all.”
“Yes,” Tad agreed, looking pointedly at the king. King Karal looked up at him and smiled, as if he understood.
“The Regents rule in his name and try diligently to interpret his wishes. The young king is a true oracle, the first in many generations. Speaking in his name is a ponderous task and a high responsibility. Many are jealous of our power.” He sighed heavily. “I wish they could but feel a small portion of our heavy burden.” Saxtos swept the hem of his long robe up and over one arm. “Well, I came to inform you that the king’s rooms are ready. You may return to them now. It is good we have these little talks from time to time. I would like to become your friend, young Tad. Delphi is a large city and can be dangerous to those who venture blindly about, especially in the bowels of the Warrens. Perhaps you and I can see the city someday from the safety of a carriage.”
Tad wondered if the Council had been watching, even following him in his ventures into the city. He bowed low. “That would be excellent, Councilor Saxtos.”
“Let us not be so formal. When we are alone, please call me Saxtos. My first name has not been used in so long a while I have almost forgotten it.”
“What is your given name?”
“Jeros il Saxtos aban,” he said; then smiled. “It means ‘the second son of Saxtos’. Both father and brother are dead, so I alone bear the name now.”
“Then Saxtos it shall be,” Tad replied with a broad smile.
As Saxtos strode from the room, followed by the guards, Karal laid aside his toy and stood. He watched Saxtos leave, and then said, “Bad man.”
Tad shared the king’s opinion of Saxtos. His words conveyed one meaning but his gestures, his body language and his eyes conveyed another. Karal did not like him. That was enough reason for Tad not to trust him. A fat Saddir seemed to go against what he knew of their culture. He would bear watching. What reason would a Regent have for delivering a message that a servant could have delivered just as easily?
“Yes, I think so, too,” he answered.
Karal took Tad’s hand and tugged it gently. “Go now?”
Tad looked at his young charge. Had he understood the conversation, or was he just eager to return to familiar surroundings?
“Yes, we’ll return to your rooms now.”
* * *
Aside from a slight metallic odor lingering in the room, masked only in part by large floral arrangements scattered throughout the room, the king’s quarters were identical to their pre-attack version. To a casual observer, it would appear as if nothing had happened. Tad, however, could see the slight variation in color of the new stone the masons had carefully integrated into the old wall. The king, too, seemed slightly perplexed by the subtle differences, wandering the room touching and sniffing various pieces of furniture and draperies identical to but different from those destroyed. A few times, he moved objects just a few millimeters to the position he had remembered.
Though it was late afternoon, King Karal wished to take a nap. Tad, his mind still absorbed by Saxtos’s words, was glad. As Karal settled down to sleep in his own bed, Tad stared out the window, pondering Saxtos’s offer of friendship. Saxtos’s offer seemed genuine, but something in the man’s voice hinted at an implied threat if Tad did not accept his offer. While a highly placed friend in court would help his career, he feared that it would make him a target for those wishing a change in government. In addition to this, he knew that the idea originated with Akalah.
What would his uncle do? Bluff it out? He could not openly refuse Saxtos’s offer. This would make an enemy of him and he did not need enemies in the Council. There was merit in the offer. If he could move in wider circles, perhaps he could glean more information on who was behind the attempt on the young king’s life. In the short run, he would be placing himself in possibly greater danger, but if he wished to remain in Delphi, it was a risk he would have to take. Never in his wildest imaginings had he found himself mired in such matters—apprenticed to the Plin, companion to the king, friend of the rebels, mysteriously known to all he encountered, caught in court intrigues, and embroiled in an attempt on the king’s life. Tad wondered what his second week in Delphi would bring.
12
THE WRAITH
THE NEXT FEW WEEKS PROVED LESS HECTIC THAN HIS FIRST weeks in Delphi. He accompanied King Karal to several state functions, a banquet for a visiting dignitary, and review of the Palace Guards. Both were long, tediously regimented and boring, but the young king managed to behave well and even saluted as the guards passed by. Tad’s lessons with the Plin and his attempts, sometimes futile, to get through to the king drained both their energies. He needed a break. The king needed a break. It was with some difficulty that Tad managed to convince the Regents to allow him to take young Karal to the beach.
“The king cannot swim,” Saxtos advised.
“I will not allow him to go very far,” Tad assured them.
“There will be too many people on the beach for proper security,” Harriman, the second Terran on the Council warned. Tad eyed Harriman suspiciously. Of all in the Council, he was the most taciturn, seldom speaking, often nodding at Akalah’s suggestions as if he had anticipated what the Chief Regent was going to say. Harriman did not attempt to hide his enmity toward Tad. He seemed incredulous that a Terran would work for a Plin and even more disturbed by the newfound show of respect toward Tad displayed by the Saddir guards since the assassination attempt.
“We can cordon off a section of beach for the king’s use,” Tad offered.
Tyris exploded. “It has never been done before.”
Tad stared at the regent dumbfounded. “No king has gone to the beach? I find that disturbing.”
“How so?” Tyris asked.
“Few people see their king. Seei
ng him bathing on the beach would make him appear more human, more like them. They would like that, I think.”
Tyris stared at Tad as if he had blasphemed.
Akalah decided the matter. “Enough!” he called loudly, holding up his hand. He faced Harriman. “Allow the king his day in the sun. It is little enough recompense for spending his days in the Black Tower.” He turned to Tad and smiled. “It will be arranged for tomorrow afternoon.”
The others said nothing more, but Tyris eyed Tad with barely concealed hostility as he bowed slightly and left. Harriman’s sneer was equally as cold.
Sure enough, the next day guards accompanied Tad and the king to the beach, but cordoned off a large section of waterfront from onlookers. Four Palace Guards looking awkward in swimming attire and carrying ceremonial spears stood nearby, ready to rescue the king from the sea or any enemies. Several others more properly attired and carrying firearms patrolled the beach.
King Karal did not care for the water, other than for wading. He spat out a mouthful of bitter, briny water he tried to drink and thereafter refused to enter past his knees. He built large castles in the sand after first carefully mixing the sand with the proper amount of water. Tad was amazed at the king’s dexterity, mounding sand as high as his head and carefully sculpting it into an exact image of the Black Tower with only his hands. He laughed with glee as his constructions fell to the rising tide.
Tad watched the gulls for a time, swooping low over the waves, floating like kites on the sea breeze, and then stared out to sea, hoping for another glimpse of a Leviathan. He envied Sea Hawk his larger-than-life adventures. As big as Delphi was, it was a mere speck on the vast oceans of Charybdis. What amazing and wonderfully strange things might lie out there beyond the far horizon? Would he ever see them?
Corycia hid behind a bank of clouds, but Second Sun Cleodora, low in the sky, cast long shadows across the beach. White caps breaking near shore seemed to cup the blue speck of Melaina, low on the southeastern horizon, in hands of white foam. Out to sea, a small boat with a brightly colored triangular sail heeled far over on its starboard side as it made a wide turn toward the beach. Tad wondered that the boat didn’t capsize until he noticed a man at the tiller leaning far out over the opposite side of the small craft for balance. The same warm breeze that propelled the boat ruffled Tad’s hair. His nose twitched from the fragrant smell of dune grass and sand poppies behind him.
