Gary Gygax - Dangerous Journeys 3 - Death in Delhi

by Gary Gygax

  "That was sweet, Setne. You had better mean it!"

  "But of course. Could my head dispense with my body because it lacks a brain?"

  "That does it, Inhetep. Now I'll make you sorry for your cruel jests!" She started to get up, then stayed put, sitting on the couch and looking at the wizard-priest. "Speaking of cruel jests, you keep me on tenterhooks, Setne. You haven't explained about how the two supposedly dead officials of the maharajah are actually living, how the seemingly stolen crown jewels were really there all along, and how we managed to get out of the vault which nobody could enter nor escape from without a special amulet! How did you manage that?"

  "Oh, that's easy. Because the place couldn't be broken into, and no rebels outside the palace could force their way inside to make the chancellor and court practitioner cooperate, it had to be an inside job. Working from that premise, it was most probable that those two were working in conjunction, of course. What was said about the two by their replacements made that the only reasonable assumption.

  "The two must have spent a very long time preparing their strike. Months, I'd guess— about the time it became clear to them that the maharajah's interest in the witch, Lady Sujata, would mean death for them. I'm certain that both were staying in the palace to better aid the rebels, but when she came along they had to abandon that post. What Sujata wanted was obvious. To become pirimah. The court practitioner of Delhi is always chief cleric as well as the head of magick. In her case, it meant priestess of Kali and Thugee. Unthinkable to both men, I'm sure! With the Purshiva Yogi Rishi's heka, they set up the seeming robbery. The 'remains' left behind were so good they almost fooled me, until I thought a bit and realized that half of the amulet key would never have been left behind with the supposed ashes of a slain treasurer. He might have been killed by thieves, but never would such a thing be left behind to be ruined by whomever did him in.

  "Somebody's body was burned to ashes, but 1 can't imagine whose. The Yogi Rishi's blood was used, but not so much as to be fatal. Together with the proper castings, the whole thing threw everyone off the track. Why just the Crown Jewels? And why were the maharajah and his court witch so desperate to get them back? Because in order to properly invest the chief cleric of the land, the power of those objects—the crown, orb, and all—must be invoked. Only when she was properly recognized thus would the Lady Sujata agree to use her influence to bring in aid to put an end to the rebels. Among her other dark dealings, the woman was in touch with Kabul. Perhaps she would have called in the Afghanis; maybe she would have trusted to a growing Thug movement to strangle the rebels." Inhetep shrugged, palms held out. "So we foiled all that. The rebels will certainly triumph now, for the maharajah is a weak and hateful fellow doomed to die as he has lived. It might be months or a few years, but soon now we will hear of a new ruler taking the Peacock Throne." He glanced at her, saw there was still attentiveness in Rachelle's expression, and realized one question remained to be answered.

  "Hmmm. What else. Ah, I recall. You wanted to know about the hidden crown jewels. It was

  DEATH IN DELHI

  a matter of elimination. If they couldn't be located anywhere within Delhi—city or state— and hadn't been spirited from the land, where could they be? Only one place was possible. That was a place where all manner of castings were made useless. Where was such a place? In the palace vault, of course! Now then, how could they be hidden? That was more difficult, but finally I hit on it. If the chamberlain and the court practitioner were working hand-in-glove on all things, it followed that the two of them managed to do something inside the strongroom. What could they do? What else but to create a special space in some inaccessible dimension to displace the regalia. The little spot wouldn't be detectable to any sort of search save one which went to the exact location in which it was tied to the mundane. The Yogi Rishi was good! He did it by accessing the ninth and least known of the dimensions, my dear. Into that place the crown jewels went, and there they are now—and will remain until the fellow extracts them to place on the person of the new maharajah he champions."

  Rachelle finally stood up and came over to where the magister sat calmly with his fuming hookah. "How did you get us out of the impenetrable barriers surrounding the vault? None of what you've told me explains that."

  "Well, you can thank Rishi for that. By allowing the ninth dimension to impinge on the vault, he opened a way for me to access the Central Nexus. It was some work, of course, channeling energy so as to make a sort of tunnel from it to the nexus. But once done, poof! And who's the wiser about something going from Inconceivability to a remote part of /Egypt? So here we are!"

  281

  "Yes," Rachplle sighed, "but sans recompense. I have hardly a jewel to my name. ..."

  The magister pondered that a moment. "Well, perhaps I have a couple which will suit you," he suggested.

  "Wonderful, Setne! I knew you'd not disappoint me. They are separately mounted on golden wire, aren't they? That's how I shall wear them, of course."

  "Perhaps well take the matter up another time, my dear," Inhetep said as he dropped the stem of the pipe from his mouth and made haste to leave the study. "I am worn out from our adventure and feel an acute need of sleep."

  Rachelle nodded. "So do I," she said as she followed after him.

  —— 18 —

  A SECOND PARCEL

  A month had passed, and both Rachelle and the wizard-priest had dismissed, if not forgotten, the matter of their deadly adventures in Delhi. The two were in their private garden, Inhetep reading in the shade near the fountain, the amazon working with her flowers and herbs nearby, when Djemer-t came out of the villa. He coughed politely to let them know he was present, then announced in somber tone, "The post rider is without my lord."

  "Fine," the magister said not looking up from his book. "Let him remain thus."

  Rachelle had looked from her work as soon as she heard the butler's diy throat-clearing, and it was she who discerned that something was up. "You can handle the matter of mail, can't you Djemer't?" she asked archly, knowing full well that that was what he wanted someone else to do.

  "No, my lady. Not in this case. It is a matter for His Lordship."

  "Setne ..."

  "Yes, my dear," he said, not looking up for her, either.

  "Setne!"

  He gave a sound of exasperation, flipped down the ribbon to mark his place, and snapped the volume closed. "What is the matter with you—and you as well, Djemer-t?"

  Rachelle ignored him then, bending over a plant which seemed to be troubled by aphids. The butler did not neglect responding. Djemer-t looked down his long, ancient nose at the magister and said, "It is the post rider, my lord, as I initially informed you. He is without."

  "A post rider without what?" Then Seine's mind finally focused on what had been said, and he stood up. "You come and disturb my reading to tell me the post rider is at the door? Have you gone into dotage? Take whatever mail he has for us and bring it here like a good fellow!"

  "No, my lord." Djemer-t was unflinching as a cedar.

  It took Inhetep aback. "No? Well, for heavens sake, why not?"

  "Your instructions, my lord. You do recall the incident some time ago when a parcel was delivered."

  "What's that got to do with this?"

  "Your lordship will have to see for himself," the old butler sniffed, doing his best to conceal

  an inner sense of triumph as he left the magister standing there.

  Inhetep stared after him a moment, then said, "Well, I guess that means I'll have to go to the door and accept whatever missives the rider has brought."

  "Wait a second, Setne. Ill come with you." Rachelle dropped her scissors and hurried to catch up with the long-legged wizard-priest.

  There at the door was a rider in the garb of one of Pharaoh's Posted Service. As soon as Inhetep saw him, though, he understood why the butler had acted as he did. So did Rachelle. The man was certainly a Hindi, and the horse he sat astride was somehow oddly
unhorselike. RacheLle's hand flew toward her ever-present dagger, while the magister's own reached to take up his ankh. The grin on the fellow's face stopped them both.

  "No, no, sahib arid sahibah. I am no messenger of Sivadji the Toad. I come from the rightful maharajah , he whose name I may not yet speak but hope to soon proclaim from the highest tower in Delhi as ruler. He sends you his greetings, his thousand thanks, and this!" So saying, the rider tossed a square package to the two, turned his mount, and galloped off. The animal which bore him moved at a startling speed as its hooves worked into the air as if it were a long hill. Soon both rider and steed were

  gone from sight, disappearing into the eastern sky.

  "I am astonished," Inhetep finally managed.

  Rachelle was gleeful. "Did you hear? He called him a toad! Come on, let's see what's inside the parcel!"

  "Perhaps we should just—"

  "Don't say if, Inhetep!"

  The magister turned with resignation, stalking back to the garden, Rachelle in his wake. Much to the consternation of Djemer-t, they said nothing as they passed, but both wore expressions of smugness which the butler found intolerable. He watched them pass, then stumped off to make the cook's life less pleasant.

  Sure that none were watching, Inhetep opened the wrappings and gave the box they had contained to Rachelle. She opened it and cried aloud for joy: "Look, Setne! You've got to see this. Why, it's a whole ensemble for me—a tiara, a necklace, earrings, bracelet, and a ring, too! Rubies bigger than that the fat toad sent— diamonds and pearls!" She held up the box so he could share her delight.

  Inhetep made appropriate noises of appreciation. "You see? Those who know me know that you are the part of the team to bestow gifts upon. They will do you justice, my dear."

  "Thank you, Setne. You are the most wonderful man a girl could hope for," and she kissed his cheek. "They are splendid, aren't they?" He agreed. "There is a problem, though, Setne dear. . . . Whatever will I wear them with?" That was a question he had anticipated with dread, for he knew the only answer possible.