"A man gave them to me. The philosopher Injep." Parso did not laugh this time. His eyes widened and then narrowed.
"Hmmm. Where did you meet him?"
"By accident. Some weeks ago when my friends and I went walking after Morning Prayer. At the school of philosiphs."
"Lofty accident, indeed."
"Do you think I could learn something interesting there?"
"Certainly. It is not that I am worried about. He is originally from Egi and though I did not know him personally I knew of him. He was a fixture at the court of Tenan Seht for a time, the queen's father. This was before she was born, I think."
"So what is the matter?"
"Well Rapheth, I am not usually one to judge a man without knowing him but my opinion considering the things I saw in Egium at the time is that any man aligning himself with that family is a man who may be very dangerous. One cannot sip poison without being poisoned, can he? Unless that man is made of poison himself."
"He seems a good man to me. He is cordial and truly interested in my education."
"He may very well be, but just be careful. We live in dangerous times. Even though this is not Jhis, danger lurks, still. Especially for you. Many are paying attention to the times and seasons and not all do so to support the overturning of the present order of things."
"I have their blood in me. What have I to fear from the House of Seht?"
"Ah, but you were not raised like them. Therein lies the real difference. You were raised around lambs Rapheth, not snakes. What do you plan to do with these books?"
"Finish them. If I am to have an opinion that makes any sense I need to know what they are, first."
"Good, good. I would take along our copy of the holy book and read it along with those apocrypha for comparison. But I would say this, if you can, keep the Books of the Women. The Ainash especially hate them and as they belong to the holy book they ought to be there. Perhaps we can do our best to copy them?"
"That would take a long, long time and I am no scribe, Parso!" Raptheh cried. Parso laughed again. Something fell to the ground. Parso looked at it and exclaimed suddenly in shock.
"What?" Asked Rapheth.
"This! What is this? It fell from your tunic!" Parso picked it up.
"Oh that. I found it in the library."
"You did? Well. . ." Parso glanced out of the window and then back at the tinkering beetle.
"A machine! They hide machines there?" Parso whispered.
"It is magnificent is it not?"
"But how did they let you have it? These are illegal, like those books."
"They did not let me have it. I took it."
"Oh Rapheth! This could be great news or ill news." Parso raced from the front room and after a time he came back with something in his arms that shocked Rapheth. Parso laid the pieces of his globe machine down gingerly.
"I have not gotten the chance to fix this yet but those machines, the messenger machines, they work specifically with these kinds of globe devices, the chilyabiums they are called in Pallinona. Of course, there are other devices that work with them as well, writing machine devices. Your mother said that the first queen had such a thing. But with these globes the tinkering machines can go round the world!"
"I had no idea you had such a thing! How can we fix this? We could surely use it." Rapheth's excitement was growing.
"We must be very careful." He looked the machine over, turning it around in his hand carefully. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "the very first of these kinds of machines long ago were made out of tin instead of copper, silver or gold and their alloys."
"Alloys?"
"A metal that is a mixture of two or more metals. Galieh, Yeleb and Egium are famous for their smithing engines and metalworkers skilled in intricate metal work. They were made of tin during the Veiled Time, or rather, what is known in other parts of the world as the Great Age."
"During the Red Kings?" The boy asked. Parso nodded.
"Thus, they became known as "tin machines" or tinkering machines, meaning "tinmak" in Old Alharan."
"I did not know that. You learn something new every day. Tinmak." He repeated the word slowly. Rapheth then gazed at the dismantled globe.
"I saw one of these chilyabiums in the library, Parso. But it was working. Working! It was the most magnificent thing I have ever seen!"
"I wonder if they did not know that you took these?"
"They have not said anything. Or sent anyone after me, yet."
"The problem, Rapheth, is that this will take months to assemble. I have some small knowledge of these devices, but it is small indeed."
"Perhaps we had better get started now. Maybe we can figure it out through trial and error." Said Rapheth.
"Perhaps not the best way, but the only way we know without getting reported."
And they set to work trying to figure out how to put the chilyabium together. Rapheth still had the star map hidden and he thought that perhaps he would study these with Parso as well one day. Parso was such a wealth of information about the world. A welcome and refreshing energy, different from his friends, whom he loved but were less open-minded. Parso did not settle for merely a surface answer without exploration and Rapheth had come to value this quality in his new teacher. More than he consciously understood, at present.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The whole city was talking of war tremors, aflame with it. Master Ulthi was obsessed with it and how it might affect his business, already hanging by a thread. Demos's entire body was in deep pain. He knew he would regret leaving the house and sure enough, Master Ulthi had found out by a snitch who saw him leave. What had saved him from being beaten to death was that he had come back instead of running away. Demos could not walk for days and was hobbled to his straw pallet. His limp was even worse and he had a constant cough. He was now standing over the cauldron stirring the stew for the evening, fish stew. Demos was feeling the sharp edge of despair. Master Ulthi was nothing but full of rage at his deception and he did not know from one day to the next if he would live or die. His life now hung in the balance for his daring. Or foolishness. His face was a mottled surface of bruises, scars and cuts. Master Ulthi had marred his face to the point where it was unrecognizable to him for a long time. But at least the stew smelled good.
Another one of Master Ulthi's nefarious associates had come for a visit. They were in his study, no doubt plotting some worthless infamy again. Demos thought glumly that the only reason he still soldiered on with his pitiful life was because he was too cowardly to kill himself and his master was too cheap to buy another slave.
The lord of Yilphaeus was gathering men to himself. One faction, hard-lined traditionalist Egians, even went so far as to say he was the true king of Egi. Many had grown tired and fearful of the queen. Her images were everywhere and everywhere they were worshiped. She had become paranoid according to some and her depravity knew no depths. Demos wondered what this meant to the Egians. He had always considered them to be by nature, depraved people. Master Ulthi being the ultimate example. But it was not true of all Egians. As bad as things were here, perhaps he was fortunate not to be home anymore. Aishanna -La who had not completely compromised did not worship the queen's image and had to flee or risked suspicion of sedition and later, impalement. But others began objecting to her rule on grounds of political issues. She was a usurper in their minds, and therefore illegitimate. There were two factions that latched on to this issue; those who supported the Lord Chieftain and others who supported the old Hybronian families of the ruling class. There were dangerous murmurs that the queen's son by Khalit survived, and they would see him upon the throne. The other faction feared for their lives more than most and kept silent. But Demos heard things around the local quarter. Things that told that the boy was alive and that the queen's efforts to find him so far were fruitless. Among the latter group Demos discovered through the gossip were Ainash who had become disaffected from the Golden Temple. He was amazed at this. Ainash turning aw
ay from the temple! Perhaps Ilim had started a great tide. Demos knew from the writings that the Red King would come from the union of the lion and the snake. Was not Khalit the young, proud lion in his day? Was not the queen called the serpent queen? There would be a bolstering of their belief soon.
Demos sprinkled some herbs into the cauldron. He shot a sideways glance at Master Ulthi's associate. A nasty character, Yuzuk, with shifting eyes and dark circles under them, a pinched, disapproving mouth and an arrogance that was inappropriate for his lack of station in life or hygiene, this was master Ulthi's chief friend and associate. He cut up some leeks and threw them into the pot and thought dully of grabbing a poisonous herb and throwing it in to kill Master Ulthi when the side of his eye caught a shadow at the door. Demos was no longer allowed to cook outside and as the house did not have a courtyard he was stuck inside the smoked-stained kitchen on most days. Demos looked around and seeing nothing he went back to his duties. He got up, wincing in pain and shuffled to the table to grab a few pots of extra spices when he noticed it again. He knew he was not imagining anything this time. He saw two men hanging around outside in the street. At first they seemed like ordinary never-do-nothings, the usual rabble. But these men were watching the house. The men stared straight at him, making no attempts to hide it. Feeling nervous Demos went back to the boiling pot. What had Master Ulthi gotten himself into this time? Demos had been so concerned with his visit with Senetta that he did not pay the usual attention to Master Ulthi's dealings. Perhaps things had finally caught up with him. Demos, feeling panic rise in him looked for a way to hide. But where? There was the lab under the house but couldn't they easily find such a place? He went to the window again but the men had disappeared. He sorely wished he had left the house this night instead of before.
Later, after Yuzuk left Demos served supper. He was about to mention the two strange men when the verbal tirade began again.
"You are a worthless piece of dung you know. You have done nothing but cause me stress and anxiety with your shiftlessness. I wonder what evils you've gotten up to while out on your little prowls, eh? Going to a brothel! What woman would have you? You lie! I ought to beat you again!" He grabbed his stick and whacked Demos who fell to the ground upon his face.
"Please master! I meant no harm! Only to help someone who was sick!"
"Really now? First you told me you went to a brothel to get your pleasure, you useless pile of toocha! Curse you!" He whacked him again.
"Please, master, I meant nothing!"
"Shut up you squealing sow! Get out of my sight! Get out!" He shouted.
"Go to the lab! I have a list of things there that need preparing. On the eve of my success when everything hinges upon it, you try to derail everything! I cannot trust you at all! I have no idea what you are up to. You could have been working with my enemies. Make sure you fill all the potions that must be made and fill the instructions exactly to the letter. If they are not done to my satisfaction by tomorrow morning, I will kill you." He said. Demos knew this time he meant business.
"I swear it upon my mother's grave. Get out of my sight you wretch and hope that I am in a better mood tomorrow." Said Master Ulthi, a look of cold rage on his face. Demos struggled to get up and shuffled away down to the lab. Now he had to worry about either being murdered by Master Ulthi's enemies or killed by his own master. Either way, it would not matter to anyone as he was only a slave. A slave, in theory, was a valuable part of a household, However, if one had a fool for a master or a cruel one, that slave's life meant less than the dust he walked upon. Master Ulthi went to counting up his ladre again. He had made some business deal in some shady place and had more ladre now than he had ever made in legitimate business dealings. Demos looked forlornly upon the long list of duties he now had before the morning. An absurdly long list. He knew that he would never get these ready in time for his master. Both of them knew it. Demos thought fearfully of the two men watching the house and didn't know who to fear more. The hammer was going to fall upon the House of Ut tomorrow.
. . .
Demos slaved away, listening to the shuffle of Ulthi's footsteps hours later as he went toward the bedroom. He worked far into the night with no hope of seeing the true light of dawn. He judged the slow passing of time by the water clock in the corner. It dragged on endlessly and for that Demos was thankful. He would never see the end of the matter at the brothel again, to speak to the mysterious woman who was mistress there. He wondered what would happen to her. As he was pondering this and grinding away at some pods he heard a sudden noise upstairs. What he dreaded was coming true. He heard someone breaking down the door and then there was the sound of several footsteps rushing through the house. Demos remained still as a mouse. The little candle light he worked by flickered wanly. The intruders made their way quickly across the floor, their footsteps muffled, but not entirely from his alert ears. Demos dared not make a sound. He looked to the inner sanctum in the lab. That was where Master Ulthi kept some of his most precious objects. If he were caught here he would be killed. Surely the intruders would search everywhere! If they were looking for valuables or something specifically valuable, they would search in the hidden places. He shuffled over to the door of the inner sanctum, picking up a slim pin from the table. Quietly he opened the door and left it open. Finally, he heard shouts upstairs.
"Where is it, you miserable rat!"
"Where is what? What are you doing here? What are you talking about?"
"Our master sent us to take back what you stole, you shiftless, sore-ridden dog. Where is the paper? You know where it is! Do not lie to us!"
"I know not of what you speak! Help, help-" Master Ulthi's voice was cut off abruptly and then Demos heard weeping and then hard thumps.
"Please, oh please!"
"Where is it?" Another thump. This time there were several. Demos heard his master fall down on the ground, pleading for his life but the merciless beating went on.
"Where is it? The paper you took? Where is it?" Thump, thump-thump, thump. Thud! Master Ulthi continued to plead, his voice screeching up an octave as they beat and tormented him.
"I do not know what you mean!" He cried out between gasps. Demos opened the door to the inner room. There was no time to lose. Bringing the candle with him he glimpsed the chest in the middle of the floor. It had no lock and so he opened it. In it lay a piece of folded paper - the document written in blue ink he feared the men were searching for.
"Oh no!" He whispered. He held on to his shackles as best he could so that they would not make noise and came back out of the room with the paper. He set it on the table and blew out the candle, hoping that was the one. He wanted to make it easy for them to find it. Demos closed the door to the lab but it did not lock from the inside. He hid himself in one of the chests along the wall under mounted shelves hoping with all his might they would not find him. Finally, he dared to lift the lid to listen. Master Ulthi was squealing pathetically for his life. Though the voices were muffled Demos could still make out some words.
"Please!" He gurgled. It sounded as if he had a mouth full of blood, making his words nearly incomprehensible. "It is in the lab downstairs! Downstairs, I tell you!" There was a loud crack and his master's screams became painful to listen to. Bones were being shattered. Demos felt a twinge of both pity and satisfaction but he had no reason to rejoice. Dread filled him as the men began moving around the house again. He began sweating, laying in utter darkness.
"You go and find it. I will stay here to see if he is telling the truth." Said one of the men. He heard one of them descend the steps. Demos heard things being overturned and thrown about in the lab. Finally the man stopped. He's found it! The paper! The man went back upstairs after having broken nearly half of the objects in the lab looking for it.
"I have found it!" Said the second man.
"You will pay for your thievery, you filth! You have broken the unspoken code amongst your brethren for the last time." Said the other. He questioned his compan
ion. "Are you sure this is it?"
"This is it. Sure as the summer sun. All of it, written in the special ink."
"You dare take such a thing! You know not what you do, fool! You! In your miserable, grasping wretchedness, reach your hand out against the king of Egi, His Greatness, Lord Chieftain Teraht! With this, his majesty will be revealed to all and prophecy will be turned to shine upon him. And you would seize it to profit yourself a few measly coins of silver and gold. A pity Isetu did not listen to your prayers. We will now send you to meet him! There, you can ask him yourself why he ignores your supplications." There was an anguished scream and Demos listened in stunned and terrified silence as the men put Ulthi to death.
"Was there not another man here? Where is he?" Asked the first one. But their plans to kill everyone in the household were cut short. Cries were heard outside from neighbors disturbed over the commotion. There was running and then a loud slam of a door. Then there was silence. The men had run from the house and out into the night. Lifting the lid of the chest, he started coughing violently. What in the holy mountain. . .fire! Smoke was filling the lab. He panicked and scrambled mightily out of his hiding place. His fortune and freedom were now wide open. He grabbed a sack and shuffled upstairs as quickly as he could.
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