And now, just when Theodore was beginning to suspect that the note might after all have been a hoax, the officer in command of the launch touched him quietly on the arm to get his attention. “My lord, someone on shore is signaling to us.”
The officer was sufficiently discreet to refrain from pointing, but in a moment Theodore, following the man’s low-voiced directions, had caught sight of a dark gesturing figure on shore, standing almost out of sight between two low abandoned-looking buildings.
The figure was hooded or masked, and dressed in some loose garment that made even the sex impossible to determine at this distance. He—or she—was standing between two dilapidated buildings, and close above the broken outlet of one of the municipal drains, in such a position as to be practically invisible from anywhere but the narrow strip of water where the launch was cruising.
Farther inland, on the same side of the river, Theodore could see the palace, his own temple, and the tall Red Temple too, somewhat more distant.
Under the officer’s direction, the launch was now being rowed toward the dock where the beckoning figure waited. When it had drawn within four or five boat lengths of that goal, the figure on shore suddenly moved a step forward and held up an imperious hand.
* * *
“Come no closer!” The voice was deep and throaty, but still, the High Priest thought, it was almost certainly that of a woman. “We must talk first. No closer, I tell you, or you’ll not see Stonecutter today!” And the figure held up a Sword-shaped bundle where Theodore could see it.
It took an imperious gesture from the High Priest himself to make the officer and the rowers stop the boat; now the oarsmen were laboring to keep her more or less in the same place in the brisk current. Actually they were doing their job well for men who got so little chance to practice.
Theodore sent his most dominating voice toward the shore. “Is that really a Sword you have there? You must let me see it now, if we are to talk seriously.”
Silently the figure holding the bundle shook the wrappings free, and let him see the Sword. Theodore, only a few meters distant, had no doubt that he was seeing the real thing.
But he was not going to admit that right away. “I must see it more closely.”
The person who held the bare blade swung it, cutting deeply into the side of a stone bollard. The thudding sound of Vulcan’s magic was clearly audible.
The wizard on the launch clutched Theodore by the arm, and spoke into his ear, quietly and unnecessarily affirming the genuineness of the article in question.
Theodore put the man aside impatiently.
“Very well,” he called ashore. “I am convinced. Come aboard here and we will talk terms; we cannot treat of a matter so important while shouting back and forth like two street peddlers.”
“No, my lord, I think not.” Yes, it was definitely a woman’s husky voice that issued from behind the mask. “Instead you must come ashore. Bring two men—no more—with you, if their presence will make you feel more comfortable.”
“Where ashore?”
“Nowhere, most cautious man, but right here in sight of your boat, though she must retreat and wait for you no closer to the dock than she is now. Come, come, will you do business or not? I am taking a real risk. If you won’t accept a tiny one that is no risk at all, I’m sure I can find another buyer who is less timid.”
Theodore was frowning, but the offer really seemed fair enough to him. You had to expect that anyone who had the Sword to sell would want to take some precautions. He had to admit that the scoundrels had chosen the place well. Within a few paces of that tantalizing masked figure there could well be a dozen man-sized rat holes, openings in the dock or buildings, into any one of which a thief could easily vanish—or from which other criminals could perhaps come pouring out in case they were intending treachery.
Well, Theodore had some good men with him in the boat, and he would risk it. The sight of Stonecutter, almost within reach, was too much to let him reach any other conclusion.
“I accept your terms,” called Theodore. Then, quite openly, he gave some final orders to the men who were to remain aboard the launch, and to the pair, newly emerged from under the half deck, who were going to precede him ashore, telling them to be alert, but to take no action except in case of treachery by the other side. He had already given them their secret orders, by which his own treachery would be implemented if and when he thought the chances of success were good, and the secret signal for which they were to watch.
The boat drew near the dock, and in a moment, the two bodyguards had hopped ashore, their own businesslike weapons drawn and ready. The High Priest followed, and then the launch, according to the agreement, eased out again to her previous position.
Theodore, as was his custom, was carrying with him quite a sizable sum in gold coin, plus a few valuable jewels. Quite likely, he thought, the amount he had with him would be enough to impress a small band of hungry robbers; though of course it was not anywhere near the true value of a treasure like the Blade.
Now he stood on the rough planking of the dock, facing the figure that still held the Sword.
The High Priest was flanked by his two bodyguards, good men both of them. If the slighter figure he confronted had any companions present, they had yet to show themselves.
“Let me hold the weapon myself,” said Theodore to his counterpart who faced him. “I must be very sure.”
He had expected an argument at least when he made this demand, and indeed the figure opposite seemed to hesitate momentarily. But then the cloth wrapping was cast aside, and the sheathed weapon was proffered hilt first.
Theodore reached for the hilt with both hands, and took the weighty treasure into his possession. He looked at the small white symbol on the hilt, a wedge splitting a block.
And, in that very moment when his full attention was on the Sword, the dark-clad woman who had given it to him turned and darted away, vanishing in an instant into a broken hole in the wooden side of the nearest building.
Theodore’s bodyguards started and brandished their weapons—but there was no threat. There was only an empty dock before them, and the High Priest their master left standing with the treasure he had so craved in his hands.
Theodore could not doubt that the weapon he had been given was quite genuine. Then why had it been given him in such a—
There were sounds nearby, a buried stirring, footsteps, careless voices of a different quality than that of the bandit woman who had just left. Someone was about to appear on the scene. No doubt the bandit woman had been first to hear these newcomers approaching, and that explained her sudden disappearance.
Or might she have—
Whatever the reason Theodore now found himself in possession of the Sword, he could not decline the chance to keep it. He had only time to re-sheathe the blade and muffle Stonecutter under his long blue cape. His right hand was gripping the leather sheath near the middle, so that the pointed end of the blade made a stiff extension of his right arm. It was the best he could do at a moment’s notice; no one would be able to see that he had the Sword as long as he could stand still with his long cape furled about him.
Only a heartbeat after Stonecutter had been made to disappear, Wen Chang and his physician-associate, with a surprising escort of notables after them, came popping up out of the opening atop a broken drain nearby. Theodore could only stare without comprehension at the sight of his own Director of Security emerging from the sewers as part of the same group. But the Director was not the highest rank accompanying Wen Chang; Prince al-Farabi himself was in the group as well.
The group appeared on the dock very near the water’s edge, so they were actually between Theodore and his waiting boat.
He might call in his launch, but he could not move to get aboard without giving away his secret; so the launch stayed where it was for the moment, the rowers pulling easily to offset the current, some ten or fifteen meters from the dock. The men aboard her could perceive no im
mediate threat to their master in this arrival of the other eminent folk with whom he had been arguing for the past few days.
In response to something—perhaps a guarded look from the High Priest—they did however begin to ease their craft a little closer to the shoreline.
Before they had closed more than half the distance, however, a somewhat smaller and much shabbier boat appeared just upstream, loaded to the gunwales with armed men. Lieutenant Komi stood in the prow, and in response to his crisp orders his crew propelled their vessel right up to the dock in the launch’s way.
“What are you all doing here?” demanded Theodore of Wen Chang and those who had just climbed up onto the dock with him. All of the new arrivals looked more or less wet and bedraggled, especially around the legs and feet, as if they had been wading through noisome waters underground.
“Why,” replied one of the unhappier officials reluctantly following the Magistrate, “we are seeking the Sword.” The bitter sarcasm in the words was of course directed at Wen Chang. “And I suppose this, in our leader’s estimation, is the very place where we are going to find it.” Then the speaker fell silent, seeing a hard-to-interpret expression pass over the High Priest’s face.
Theodore was never the man to adopt a meekly defensive attitude. “By following that man you will never find the Sword,” he taunted, putting on his utmost confidence. He sneered openly at Wen Chang.
“I look into your eyes, unhappy Theodore,” pronounced the Magistrate in turn, his face contorted in his most theatrical squint, “and I am persuaded that you lie!”
And on the last word Wen Chang pounced forward, with the speed of a striking predatory animal, to seize the High Priest. The victim was so taken by surprise by this direct assault that he made no attempt to dodge until it was too late; and so astounded were his bodyguards that they failed to move to their master’s defense in time to prevent his being seized.
A second later the Blue Temple men were galvanized into action. But one of them was met by Prince al-Farabi, and the other tripped up by Lieutenant Komi, who reached ashore to thrust a sheathed sword between the guard’s legs and send him sprawling. Meanwhile the Prince, displaying an impressive speed of thought and hand, as well as considerable strength, had knocked down the other bodyguard and stood over him with drawn blade.
Theodore, the High Priest of the Blue Temple, was a strong man too, stronger than he looked. And his training in the arts of personal combat had not been entirely neglected. But neither of those attributes were of any real service to him now. Wen Chang, displaying a master’s skill and a wiry strength that few would have suspected from his appearance, needed only a moment in which to overpower the High Priest once they had come to grips.
From under Theodore’s long blue cape there fell out the Sword of Siege, still sheathed, to land with a muffled metallic sound upon the worn planks of the dock.
The onlookers gaped at it.
Such was the unexpected suddenness with which the Sword had been made to appear that for a moment even Kasimir could almost believe that Wen Chang had produced it through some trick of sleight of hand. But that was manifestly impossible. There was no conceivable way the Magistrate could have concealed such a weapon on his person before his confrontation with Theodore, and no way he could have pulled it out of the bare planks of the dock. The only place the Sword could possibly have come from was under Theodore’s voluminous cape.
An instant after the Sword appeared, the Prince cast aside the more ordinary weapon with which he had been menacing the fallen bodyguard, and pounced upon his treasure. With a great cry of joy he unsheathed Stonecutter, and held up the gleaming blade for all to see.
The High Priest, caught red-handed with another’s treasure, refused to blush or even to look uncomfortable. In the space of time needed to draw a full breath he was protesting at the top of his voice the high-handed treatment to which he had been subjected. He announced that all present were witnesses to his perfect innocence in the face of false accusations—though no accusations, true or false, had yet been voiced.
This was not a good audience for anyone to attempt to deceive with the technique of the big lie. All present were looking at Theodore with guarded expressions, and Kasimir was quite sure that not one of his audience believed him.
For the present, at least, no one was ready to indict him either. Prince al- Farabi, having retrieved Prince Mark’s treasure and his own honor, attached the Sword’s sheath to a belt at his own waist, and made loud vows of gratitude to everyone who had helped in any way toward Stonecutter’s recovery.
Meanwhile the boatload of Firozpur warriors had pulled out of the way of the launch, which was now allowed to dock. Theodore promptly climbed aboard. He was still loudly justifying his possession of the Sword as the launch, in response to his gesture, pulled away again.
And now the Prince no longer delayed a more practical expression of his gratitude. The chief beneficiary of this was of course Wen Chang, to whom al-Farabi promptly handed over his promised reward, in the form of a handful of sparkling, high-grade jewels.
Hardly was the Blue Temple launch out of easy hailing distance when in a small thunder of hoof beats the Hetman himself arrived at the dock, accompanied by a small mounted escort. How the ruler had learned of the confrontation taking place here was not apparent, but his vast relief at the sight of Stonecutter was. His first glance toward Wen Chang and Kasimir was by far the friendliest he had yet sent their way.
“Where did you find it?” the Hetman inquired eagerly.
The expression on the Prince’s face lost some of its happiness. “Hidden under the garments of the High Priest of the Blue Temple.”
There was no point in the Hetman’s trying to dispute this as unbelievable. Not when he saw confirmation of the unbelievable in every face before him.
“A mistake, on his part,” the ruler offered. “Some misunderstanding.”
“A mistake, certainly,” said the Prince. “To think that he could get away with such a theft.”
“A misunderstanding, I am sure,” the Hetman said. “I trust that Your Highness has no thought of pressing charges?”
“If you agree,” conceded the Prince magnanimously to his fellow ruler, “that no charges of any kind will be pressed against anyone else concerned in this matter—then I will consent to press none against Theodore, or his organization.”
“Agreed, with all my heart.” Then a slight frown dimmed the Hetman’s joy. “Except of course for the escaped prisoner Benjamin, who is already under sentence of death.”
“Agreed.”
And with that the gathering on the dock split up, the Prince and a few retainers going to a round of rejoicing at their host’s palace. The Magistrate most eloquently begged to be excused, and the Hetman did not press him to come along.
Once they were out of sight of the higher authorities, Wen Chang gave a choice jewel to Kasimir, and promptly made good on his promise to Almagro by sharing his reward generously.
“I can use it,” the Captain said. “I am very seriously considering retirement.”
Chapter Nineteen
It was about an hour after dawn on the second day of the Festival, which so far appeared to be making good progress despite the lack of a public execution. Wen Chang, after getting a good night’s rest at the inn, had expressed an urge to leave Eylau behind him as quickly as possible. Kasimir, feeling that he could hardly agree with any sentiment more, was going with him. Accordingly the two of them had arisen early, packed up their few belongings at the inn, and paid their bill in full—that was no problem, once a small portion of Wen Chang’s reward had been converted into ready cash. Prince al-Farabi had graciously offered, and the Magistrate had accepted, the continued escort of Lieutenant Komi and his small troop as far as the next city.
The Prince himself was not on hand for their departure, having agreed to accept another day or two of the Hetman’s grateful hospitality.
Kasimir and the Magistrate, riding their well-
rested animals side by side this morning, enjoyed their first real opportunity to talk freely together since the Sword’s recovery. Certain hints dropped by Wen Chang had confirmed Kasimir in his opinion that the inn might no longer be a safe place for the frankest sort of conversations; the Blue Temple had been humiliated, if not wounded, and it was notoriously unforgiving of any kind of debt.
“I would like,” said Kasimir, after the first few minutes of the morning’s ride had passed in silence, “for you to tell me a story.”
Wen Chang threw back his head and gave vent to hearty mirth. It was a far more open laughter than any Kasimir had heard from him since their first meeting.
“I fully intend to do so,” replied the Magistrate when he had laughed his fill. “I was only wondering how best to begin.”
“To begin with, do you believe that the Hetman will ever recapture Benjamin of the Steppe?”
“I hope that he will not,” said Wen Chang frankly. “And as a matter of fact I consider the Hetman’s chances of success in the matter rather small.”
“Oh? I rejoice to hear it. But why is that?”
“Well, in the first place, whoever arranged the prisoner’s escape from his cell demonstrated considerable cleverness, and one must expect the same cleverness to be applied to the problem of removing the same prisoner from the city.”
“That is true. Well, I have no doubt as to who arranged the escape. And I am still thinking of Natalia. Do you know, in spite of all that has happened, in a way I could wish to see her again.”
“You should; were it not for her co-operation in loaning us the Sword for a few hours to trap Valamo, and then returning it honorably when it had served its purpose in the city, you would not have the Prince’s jewel in your pocket now. But she is busy, I assume, devoting herself to the survival of her lover. Or perhaps Benjamin is her husband; the rural folk tend to believe strongly in marriage, you know.”
“I should have guessed at the connection earlier,” Kasimir admitted. “She and Benjamin were even wearing similar clothing when I first saw them. And her hair was styled in the same way as that of those foolish women protesters.”
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