Future Indefinite (Round Three of The Great Game)

by Dave Duncan

  He continued to wander, speaking now to one group, now to another, but audible to all. “Yes, this is an ending. All those good folk we brought with us have played their part. Like wedding guests who lead the bride and groom to the chamber, they must now depart in peace, their portion done."

  And would the Liberator also depart? Vanish in a blink as he had come into the world, the Free dispersed, scattered, perhaps persecuted. What then of Eleal Singer? She could not go back to the Cherry Blossom House. There was little call for a preacher of heresy. Although her leg no longer barred her from the stage, her eyes had been opened and she knew how evil most of the plays were, filthy pagan legends; she would certainly never dream of entering Tion's Festival. As for marriage, a woman's normal lot ... no matter what husband she found, she would compare him with D'ward every time she looked at him. She must pray, and the One would provide.

  Even if He didn't, D'ward would never forsake her.

  He was still talking. “An ending but also a beginning. I was told of this house by a friend who lives not far off. He said that its owner and his sons were taken by reapers, many years ago, and the old place had remained deserted ever since, as no one knew who owned it. It was a noble place once and it will be noble—Aha!"

  Footsteps crunched on dry leaves outside the door and then halted. Eleal could not see who was there, but D'ward could, and he smiled a welcome. “Kuchumber Boatman, isn't it? You came for Dosh, I assume."

  Dosh was already on his feet, heading for the exit. D'ward watched them go until there was no more sound, and then began to pace again.

  "That means we have visitors, so the house must wait till later. Let us plan the feast. How much food is left?"

  Dommi said, “None, master!” and a few others muttered agreement.

  "None at all?” D'ward stopped in the center of the room. “No food! There is no food, but the Liberator promised us a feast, so now he will call on the One, who will shower miracle wheat from the heavens like hail?” His voice was soft and bantering, yet it had a razor edge. “Oh, my friends, have I not told you that you were given brains to think for yourselves? You would die of thirst underwater. The Lord has already provided what you need, if you will but look. Did I not just tell you that we have reached an ending? Dommi, how many wagons would be needed just to haul the infirm and small children?"

  "Four, perhaps five—"

  "So save five oxen and—Ah, now you see?” The Liberator smiled as the old house rang with laughter.

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  55

  Julian whispered a quick explanation to Alice. She chuckled. The shield-bearers began planning the feast, joking about the best ways to cook llamas, rabbits, and tusk oxen. They would be edible but tough as rope, likely. D'ward listened with tolerant amusement.

  What a performance! Could have used more like him in the trenches to buck up the lads and lead them into battle with their heads high. But this wasn't really funny, dammit! The Liberator must meet Zath alone, man to man—that was the sword above the throne. That had always been the plan, David and Goliath. Exeter had specifically not staged a travesty of the Last Supper, but he was sending the Free home, and he'd dropped bags of hints that he was pulling out.

  Alice tapped Julian's shoulder. “He said all the rabbits?"

  "Yes. Why? What's wrong?"

  She frowned. “Nothing."

  Yes there was. What?

  A quick look the other way showed that Pinky was wearing his sleepy-eyed thoughtful look as he watched the byplay. He, too, had noticed something awry.

  "Tell me,” Julian whispered.

  Alice shrugged. “If they slaughter the excess oxen and all the rabbits, then how is he going to Tharg?"

  "Good question.” Julian mentally kicked himself for not seeing that. It would take days on foot, and Thargians did not tolerate strangers wandering around their vale. They would especially resent the man who had laid a historic humiliation on them only four years ago. Zath would lay his own traps. Of course Exeter had enough mana now to defend himself from mundane attack—or even teleport himself across country from node to node if he chose—but either would be a foolish waste of power. He might have hidden one rabbit away somewhere for his own use.

  Alice had been expecting to go to Tharg with him.

  And so had Julian Smedley. Damn! He didn't want to be sent home with the children. Exeter knew what he was doing, certainly—clearing ground in the courtyard, sending Dosh off on a secret errand. How and where did he expect to meet Zath? Was he even going to Tharg at all?

  Now he was raising a hand for silence. Ye gods, but he was a cool one! Only his tendency to pace around showed the strain he must be feeling, and that might be due to the virtuality of this node. It was localized, but very intense.

  "We are about to have visitors.” Exeter walked over to the central window and sat on the sill, so that the light was behind him, leaning against a mullion and stretching out his legs, cool as the proverbial cucumber. The great room fell silent. A bat-owl warbled its ghostly call out in the trees. Farther off, some of the Free had begun a singsong. Footsteps approaching...

  Dosh entered first and stepped aside. Three men followed, coming to a halt just inside the doorway, looking around for the leader.

  None of the three was dressed for riding moas. The chappie in the center was a massive figure in full armor, boots and crested helmet making him tower over the others. His cleanshaven chin showed he was a Thargian, had there been any doubt. His scabbard hung conspicuously empty at his side. Wee Dosh had done extremely well to persuade him to disarm. From a Thargian point of view that would be a very poor start to negotiations. The other two wore civilian garb: fur hats, long fur robes. The one on the right sported a trim, gray-streaked beard, the one on the left a heavy black mustache. Now there was a surprise! Julian glanced at Alice, but she was still studying the visitors and probably did not know the significance of that facial hair.

  If they were waiting for introductions or words of welcome, they were evidently going to be disappointed. No one spoke a word. Then the soldier picked out the man in the window as the likely head boy and marched forward, his heavy boots scuffing up dust clouds from the litter of humus. When he was in the center of the room and just into the moonlight, he stamped to a halt. His greaves flashed streaks of Trumb's green fire.

  "I am Kwargurk Battlemaster, ephor of Thargia.” His accent was as thick as road tar, but—Good Lord! An ephor in person? And speaking Joalian, too!

  "I am the Liberator.” Exeter showed no awareness that he was being granted an unprecedented honor.

  Kwargurk grunted contemptuously. He waved a hand to indicate his companions. “Petaldian Ambassador from Joalia and Tanuel Ambassador from Niolia.” Neither moved.

  "I am the Liberator,” Exeter repeated. He crossed his legs. He was in the presence of one third of the Thargian government and representatives of the other two great powers. Julian suppressed a strong desire to whistle a cheery tune.

  The ephor growled deep in his throat. “Let us speak in private."

  "No. These are my friends. I hide nothing from them."

  "Friends? How many cohorts can you field?"

  "None. I am armed with the word of the One True God."

  The ephor glanced around the desolate, unfurnished chamber and then down at the young man lolling on the windowsill. His voice was a sneer. “He does not pay you well."

  Exeter's voice was higher pitched and quieter, but it was steady and plainly audible. “He pays better than you can imagine, Ephor Kwargurk, but you did not come here to trade insults. State your business."

  "You and your rabble have violated our borders. Your persons are forfeit. The penalty is death or slavery."

  "I know that."

  "Why? What is the reason behind this insanity?"

  "Our business is God's business. It does not concern you, Ephor. You came to offer terms. State them."

  "Not offer, heretic—dictate! Hear, then. You wh
o call yourself the Liberator will proceed to Tharg with all deliberate haste, taking no more than ten companions, and will present yourself there to the authorities, who upon examination may decide to put you on trial. The rest of your followers have two days in which to leave Thargvale or endure the consequences."

  Julian heard Pinky utter a faint hiss of surprise or relief. Make that both. By letting the Free leave unscathed, the irascible Thargians were breaking all their own rules. If Exeter had not been tipped off in advance, he was a fantastic guesser. Obviously this was how he planned to journey to his rendezvous with Death—as a guest of the Thargians. Would he accept the offer of ten companions or insist on going alone?

  Julian whispered a hasty explanation to Alice: “He's done it! He can go on to Tharg and everyone else is free to depart!” He squeezed her hand and she returned his grin. Triumph!

  Exeter uncrossed his legs and rested his forearms on his knees. “What are Joalia and Niolia doing in this?"

  The ambassadors exchanged glances. Tanuel cleared his throat loudly, or perhaps he was just blowing his mustache out of the way. “You have deluded many citizens of Nioldom and even some of Niolia itself into following your mirage. I made representations on their behalf to the noble ephors and their excellencies agreed to treat the matter with the outstanding leniency that Ephor Kwargurk has just described. You have many persons from Joalia here also. Honorable Petaldian Ambassador will confirm, if you wish, that his government's views are concurrent with mine. We have assembled a stock of foodstuffs to provision the refugees’ return journey—at no small cost, I may add. You should know that the Thargian government's concessions are historically—"

  "I think we understand. Thargia would love to load up its slave pens, but it doesn't want to antagonize all the Vales at the same time. The chance to take so many hostages must be mouthwateringly tempting, though. A more weighty consideration would be that the omens and auguries are especially ambiguous just now?” Edward stood up, revealing that he was as tall as the ephor. His next words cracked out like pistol shots. "Your terms are rejected. Leave this camp."

  Alice understood the tone, and her nails stabbed hard into Julian's hand. Pinky gasped. Others among the shield-bearers were reacting similarly. Petaldian Ambassador uttered undiplomatic obscenities. A six-foot pillar of bronze viewed from the side in partial moonlight should not be able to express astonishment without speaking, but somehow Ephor Kwargurk managed it.

  Tanuel Ambassador hurried forward, his voice emerging as a trembling bleat. “Young man, you will have the blood of innocent thousands upon your head! Ever since your destination became obvious, I have worked night and day to persuade the Thargian—"

  "Your motives are honorable. The One will not be unmindful of them, nor of Petaldian Ambassador's. But we will be guided by our God and heed not the butchers who reign in Tharg, worshipping evil. The blessings of the Undivided go with you all."

  "You really are insane,” Kwargurk growled. “My colleagues and I did not believe that so many would follow a maniac.” Turning slowly, he surveyed the hall. “Will none of you break free from the madman and seek to avert bloody catastrophe?"

  No one spoke. Not that Julian was not tempted...

  "Truly,” Exeter remarked, “this concern for the welfare of others is a welcome innovation among Thargians. There is hope for you yet, when I have ripped out the foulness that contaminates your city. Go, ephor. Go back to Tharg and tell your murdering Zath that his hour has come."

  For a moment the giant seemed to balance on his toes, poised to seize the insolent preacher and snap his neck. Possibly he tried to, although no tremor of mana disturbed the virtuality of the node. Then all three envoys turned and stalked away. The two diplomats were doubtless downcast at their failure. It was hard to believe that the Thargian was feeling anything short of homicidal mania. All three vanished out the door, crackling dead leaves into the distance.

  As Dosh was about to follow and see them off, Exeter called him over. For a moment the two conferred, then Dosh departed also.

  Julian was returning Alice's wide-eyed stare. “He had it all! They gave him everything he could have asked for, and he turned it down flat. This is insane! He's bloody bonkers."

  "It's a rum go,” Pinky muttered.

  "Never thought I'd agree with a Thargian. He is crazy, as the man said. He must be."

  Alice chewed her lip. “He knows what he's doing, I'm sure."

  "I'm not,” Julian growled. He turned to regard Pinky. If anyone had a mind devious enough to understand this, then he did. “You make head or tail of it?"

  Pinky lowered his eyelids dreamily. “Indeed we must suppose a complex gambit, mustn't we, mm? A ploy being made on several levels, I suspect. Wouldn't you agree with that? Different message being passed to different listeners, as it were..."

  Alice said, “Sh!"

  Exeter had moved to the center of the hall. He had just declared war on Nextdoor's equivalent of the Prussian Empire and now he was talking of trivialities as if nothing at all had happened.

  "...was telling you of this fine house, fallen on hard times. We must now consecrate it to greater service than it knew before. Let us make this building the first temple of the Undivided, to give witness to the Truth, to minister to the suffering and unfortunate. A temple must have a high priest or priestess, some holy person well fitted. Who among you is most worthy?"

  He stopped and looked around. No one spoke. Julian wanted to scream, Who cared about a bloody temple? He glared at Pinky, but Pinky was frowning at this latest Liberator outrage. The Church of the Undivided had staunchly refused to establish permanent chapels in the belief that they would attract persecution like wasps to a picnic.

  Exeter sighed. “No nominations from the floor? Oh, my friends, do you not see yet? Is it not obvious? Only two of us here are mentioned in the Filoby Testament. She knows what it is to be penniless and wretched. She knows what it is to be crippled. I have even heard tell of those who mutter that she should not hold up her head among honorable people. Shame, shame! It is those proud popinjays who should hang their heads in her presence. Eleal Highpriestess, come forward."

  At the far end of the hall, Eleal clambered to her feet, apparently being pushed by her companions. She walked forward slowly, shoulders hunched, her arms tight around her breasts. Superb actress that she was, she could not possibly be faking that shock and reluctance. Exeter embraced her.

  "Now, priestess,” he said, releasing her, “we need a Circle. There is a nail in the wall above the fireplace, and you have a shield that would sanctify this hall without any further words from us. May it ever remind us of the Warband who fell so bravely as the first martyrs of our church.... They will not be the last. I shall consecrate it and this temple in the name of the Undivided and all of you shall watch and listen and remember, for soon you will carry the word to all the Vales and to lands beyond."

  Horsefeathers! Either the blighter had come completely unhinged or he was killing time until something happened or ... or ... or Julian Smedley was a monkey's uncle. Why had Exeter spumed the ephor's offer of safe conduct for the Free? Pinky knew, or suspected, if he could ever be persuaded to get to the point.

  But Pinky was glaring at the ceremony now being organized before the fireplace. Again Exeter was going his own way with his own schismatic sect—the Church of the Liberator, probably.... And Eleal as high priestess! Not a stranger, even. A girl in her teens, a native, and an actress! A former harlot! No wonder Pinky was seething. It was surprising the man hadn't turned in his shield already. Of course, he must assume that he would be able to overrule a mere—

  No! If Exeter cut loose and left the Church of the Liberator to fend for itself, then certainly Pinky would expect to run it as he had run the Service, the rat behind the wainscot. But that program depended on the believers surviving tomorrow's apocalypse. The Thargians would come at dawn in fire and slaughter. The old, the infirm, the children, would be put to the sword and the able-bodied m
arched off to the mines in their thousands.

  The awful truth reared up like a monster in a nightmare: Exeter had brought all those innocents here to die for him, just as the Warband had died. That was why he had refused the Thargian terms. More martyrdom, more human sacrifice! Wholesale massacre—wholesale mana! He was going to try and beat Zath at his own game.

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  56

  Dosh trotted down the steps and set off after the Thargians, crunching leaves under his boots. The night was calm but turning cold, and Trumb's disk was almost a perfect circle, so the eclipse would start soon. He could find his way along the path by moonlight. If it had gone by the time he returned, the fires twinkling among the trees would guide him. Snatches of hymns mingled with popular folk songs told how the Free were celebrating the Liberator's triumphant promises. They were showing their faith.

  Shamefully, Dosh's faith had not been as strong as it should be. He knew Thargians and how jealously they guarded their borders. He had been very relieved when he heard them promise to let the Free depart unmolested but also very astonished, which he should not have been. He should have trusted more in D'ward and the power of the Undivided.

  Catching a glimpse of the envoys in front of him, he slowed down. D'ward had told him to speak to them when they had left the woods and not before. He could hear the mutter of their conversation, the clink of the ephor's armor.

  When D'ward rejected their terms, Dosh had been as surprised as everyone else. He should have had more faith. Just why the Liberator had chosen to proceed in the way he had was still a mystery, but he always knew what he was doing. Trust in the One! It would be the Thargians who would be surprised when they heard the message Dosh brought. They would curse, undoubtedly, but they would certainly accept, and it would be fun seeing their faces.