by Martin Ash
Was it possible that Leth held a great secret, was somehow party to extraordinary knowledge?
The thought had not left Fectur alone. 'The gods as you claim to know them do not exist. You, or those who went before you, have created them. Those beings that do exist within Enchantment, though they may as well be gods, yet know nothing of you. Nor would they care if they did.'
The words of a madman? Fectur had never considered Leth mad. But the implications . . . .
Had Leth communed with gods?
How else could he know anything of Enchantment? Or was it bluff? Had he spoken simply to quiet the faction heads? It was a perilous ploy, if so. And no, Fectur was convinced from Leth's manner that he had unintentionally let the words slip, or at least had not given proper consideration to their impact.
As one the faction heads had turned on Fectur, demanding the truth. They wanted Leth brought before them to explain himself. Fectur had temporized, using the planned overthrow of the King to divert them. He had promised a full enquiry but then, with Leth ousted, had declared him to be in no fit state to meet them. He could not stall them for long. They were impatient, clamouring. They were not oblivious to the fact that Fectur wished to get to the King first.
But how? If Leth had secrets he would not give them up willingly. In Fectur's dungeons, of course, it would be a different story, but there was a certain protocol to be observed. Fectur's position was not one that invested in him the authority to commit torture upon the royal person. Not yet.
He had given much thought to Leth's behaviour of late. Almost coincident to his accession to rule the King had taken to shutting himself away in his study whenever an opportunity offered. Moreso in recent months. It was a place to which Fectur lacked access. Fectur had initiated covert enquiries, keen to discover - unknowingly like Issul before him - whether Leth was engaged in magical studies. But his efforts drew a blank. No teacher was found, nor any evidence of Leth's having installed the associated paraphernalia of esoterica. Leth always went alone to his study. His voice had been heard within, but no other person had ever exited.
Symptoms of withdrawal and depression, perhaps? The burden of his responsibilities bearing too oppressively upon him? Fectur shook his head. He was not happy with that.
There was also the matter of Leth's insistence upon meeting with Grey Venger, his excitement over the Legendary Child and its connection with the True Sept. And his infuriating secrecy regarding the content of his conversations with Venger. What had he said now? That Venger's attempt upon his life had been a sham to bring about the advent of the Legendary Child? And that the Sept and/or Grey Venger still had vital information to impart.
Fectur mulled over all this. He had to know everything, rapidly, by whatever means necessary. Hence he was unable to entirely rule out torture upon the King. As a last resort. Or perhaps more effectively upon the sweet little Prince and Princess. He was greatly skilled, after all, and could deliver the most terrible excruciations without leaving an incriminating mark. In fact, the threat to the children’s welfare might be sufficient in itself to loosen Leth's tongue. The priority would then be to ensure that neither Leth nor his infants could blab about it to others - or at least that they would not be believed.
Yes, he would take that path if need be. First, though, he would have a little chat with Grey Venger.
II
Venger had been housed in the lowest level of the palace of Orbia, in the warren of passages, cells and grim, hopeless chambers that comprised the dungeons of Fectur's Ministry of Realm Security. Here men and women languished in terrible solitude in tiny, cold, lightless locked cubicles or iron cages. Some were forgotten, others were destined for unimaginable attentions. Most accepted that they would never leave that place. Many prayed that they would soon be allowed to die.
Grey Venger occupied a cell set somewhat apart from the others, though not so far as to deprive him of the sounds of the sufferings of his neighbours. He was chained to the wall by wrists and ankles, spreadeagled naked against the harsh stone.
His head was slumped upon his taut chest as Fectur entered. He looked up, squinnying his eyes against the dazzle of the Lord High Invigilate's torch. Fectur set the torch in a bracket upon the opposite wall then turned and surveyed his prisoner.
"I think we have things to discuss."
"I think we have nothing to discuss, Lord Invigilate Spectre, Oppressor of the Righteous, Corruptor of the Good," sneered Grey Venger, his eyes glazed. "I think there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that the Grey Venger has to say to one as low, insignificant and contemptible as you."
"Now don't be like that," replied Fectur, not in the least discomposed. "After all, I am sure we have much to exchange. In the light of the changes that have occurred I think you will find yourself much more willing to talk to me."
Venger's vision focused. "What changes?"
Fectur waited on a half-breath. Venger knew nothing of the abrupt shift in the balance of power at Enchantment's Reach. It was perhaps expedient to keep him guessing. "Oh, just one or two things, the nature of which I may reveal to you in due course. It all depends on yourself, of course, as I'm sure you can appreciate."
Grey Venger produced a pained, mocking smirk. "This is all as I had anticipated; you know that, don't you? I did not trust Leth's word. Ever. I knew that if he failed to get all he wanted then this was what I could expect. But it truly makes no difference to anything. I would not have come if it did."
Fectur considered this. Could he make use of Venger's conviction that Leth was behind his betrayal? He kept it in mind.
Venger's eyes were narrowed and hard. "Do what you will, Great and Mighty Spectre. It will bring you nothing. No amount of pain you inflict will affect me. Never will you know the satisfaction of hearing me beg for mercy. You will learn nothing of what you want to know. The Grey Venger is far above creatures such as you. Some things you can never comprehend."
Staring deep into Grey Venger's eyes, Fectur saw the truth in the first part of that statement. The noble art of torture would be wasted on this man. He had lived a life so attuned to denial that he was probably no longer capable of even feeling pain. Or if he felt it he would rejoice in it. For a moment Fectur was lost for words.
"You would give so much to be like me, would you not?" said Venger with satisfaction. "But you could never. No, not one like you you. I am beyond you. Far beyond."
Surely there are tortures that would suit this man?
Fectur smiled grimly, his anger barely contained. "We will see."
Venger smiled once more, and for a heartbeat Fectur felt the unbearable certainty that he knew his thoughts. He shifted his weight, linked his hands behind his back. "I had hoped we would speak of the Legendary Child, further the progress you have made with King Leth."
Venger scoffed. "Speak further? When Leth has broken his word and thrown me here, given me to you like a man throws scraps to a starving hound? There is nothing more to be said, High and Mighty. Leave me, or do your worst. It will avail you nothing."
Fectur wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue. "Believe it or not, Venger, it brings me no pleasure to see you here. I am a servant of the Crown, bound to adhere to the King's wishes. He has given up on you. His orders to me are to extract whatever you know, by any means. I advised against extreme measures, but King Leth has lately taken to disregarding the advice of even his closest confidants. But it does not mean that you and I can’t talk. I consider you to be of tremendous importance at this time. The True Sept also. I would rather see you walk out of here than be carried out in a shroud. And you, I am sure, wish in your heart to be witness to the events your people have prophesied for so long."
Venger watched him. Fectur clenched his jaw. He was walking on fragile ground, for he knew almost nothing of what had passed between Grey Venger and King Leth. Yet he had to know whatever Venger knew, and if torture was not the medium then perhaps his enemy would respond to another approach.
"You believe I wi
sh in my heart to witness your doom, and the doom of all like you?" said Venger. "Yes, you are correct in that at least. My one regret as I am chained here is that I may not witness the deaths of the Unbelievers. But the Grey Venger has played the part that was his to play, and nothing else matters now. The One True God will acknowledge my devotion when his power is restored."
Fectur had stiffened imperceptibly. "Our doom? How is this?"
"It is as I have told Leth." Venger grinned. "Or did he not inform you?"
Fectur seethed. There was so much here, he was convinced. But he could not reveal his ignorance. Venger would toy with him. But what was this One True God?
"Leth has told me," he said. "I simply seek clarification. And that which you have not yet given up. I have already said, Venger, the King is persuaded that you have more to give. He grew impatient, hence you find yourself here. But I am drawn to wonder whether the King treads an optimal path just now. Hence I offer you a lifeline."
He watched for a reaction, no matter how minute, and saw it, the tiniest glimmer of interest in Venger's dark eyes.
"You do not know whether to believe me. That is understandable. But I assure you, if I were following King Leth's orders you would be flayed meat by now."
Venger rattled the chains that bound him to the wall. "Unclasp me, Fectur."
Fectur looked again, deep into those distant eyes. Then he stepped to the wall and stretched up to release the bolt on one of Venger's manacles. He watched as Venger unclasped the others and rubbed and flexed his sore wrists and ankles.
"I will leave you now, Venger. We will speak again later."
Venger's face betrayed his surprise, but Fectur took himself from the cell. Let Venger dwell on that! And in the meantime, before he could confront Venger again, he had to learn more, for he was in danger of revealing his ignorance. Unnacceptable! He would not permit Grey Venger that pleasure.
Fectur perceived two courses open to him. First, he could approach the King and persuade, cajole, threaten, demand until he learned precisely what had passed between him and Venger. And if somehow he still failed to gain what he wanted he would turn to Pader Luminis. Neither Leth nor Pader were likely to tell him all, but interviewed separately they would provide pieces of a picture that he could fit together. Certainly they would furnish him with far more than he presently had. Then, more sure of where he stood, he could return to Grey Venger.
At the end of the dim corridor that led from the dungeons a portal opened and a bulky figure strode hurriedly towards him. As he drew closer Fectur recognized an officer from his Security Cadre. The man came with unnatural haste, his shoulders high, then slowed. His face as it came into Fectur's light was drawn and troubled. He spoke as though gagging on his words. "My lord, it is the King. He has vanished."
Fectur almost shuddered. He fixed the officer with a deadly stare. "What?"
"The King, my lord. He cannot be found. Nor the Prince and Princess."
"They are under supervision in the royal apartments."
The officer swallowed. "I know, lord. I am in charge of the detail. They have not left, yet neither are they there any longer. I have no explanation. The entrances were guarded and they did not leave. But my men have searched everywhere."
"You have let them escape?"
"No, lord. That is what I am trying to say. They have not left, yet they are not there."
Am I betrayed from within? The thought made Fectur dizzy. Who would dare? He could not conceive of it. But a red rage swelled within him and he could barely keep himself from striking the man dead on the spot.
He threw himself towards the exit. "Take me there!"
*
In the King's apartment Fectur bellowed orders. "Cordon off the apartments! Isolate the wing! Search every chamber, every cupboard, every nook! Search again! Keep searching till they are found!"
He swung upon the officer who had brought him the news. "Bring me the wretches who guarded the entrances!"
He was told that Leth had last been seen entering his study with his children. When nothing had been heard for some time the guards had grown suspicious. Eventually they had knocked upon the door, received no answer, and informed their commander, who had entered the chamber to find it empty.
Fectur scanned the study. There was only one window, a double-slit, too narrow for even a child to slip through. "There is a secret passage here. Find it."
Frightened soldiers shifted furniture, lifted rugs, peered behind arrases, pressed or hammered or prised wall-blocks and flagstones. A secret storage compartment was discovered in one wall, in which were manuscripts, valuables and other personal items, but no exit was found.
Was there magic involved? Fectur stood beside Leth's desk, his fingertips unconsciously settling upon the lid of a jewelled blue casket resting there. Had Leth prepared for this moment all along?
There was nothing visible to indicate magic. No apparatus, nothing. Outside of Enchantment Fectur knew of no means by which a man and two children might be magically transported between locations. But there was magic here. Fectur sensed it almost subliminally, a susurration along the fine hairs of his skin, a psychic breath ruffling the edges of his consciousness. The shadows in the corner of the chamber, they seemed unusually tinged with blue.
How had Leth done it?
He seized a chair and hurled it across the chamber. "Find them! Find them or you will all fly from the battlements!"
Outside six soldiers of the Security Cadre waited, pale and nervous. It was they who had guarded the two main entrances to the royal apartments. They swore before Fectur that the King and his two children had made no attempts to leave, nor had anyone entered. Fectur stared into each of their eyes and knew that they spoke the truth. They were terrified. They knew what they faced. The crime was too blatant. No person aiding the King in his escape would have stayed around to face the Spectre's wrath.
The childrens' nanny, Cascane, was brought. She was incoherent in her terror, but it was plain that she too knew nothing. Fectur stormed back into the study and stood impotent with rage beside the desk where the blue casket rested. His soldiers cowered before him. They had searched and searched, then they had searched again. The apartment had been turned upside down.
Nothing.
How? How had he done this?
And where had he gone?
TEN
I
Issul swept past the Lord High Invigilate's astonished chief secretary and burst into Fectur's office without pausing to announce her presence. Fectur sat at his desk, and at the sight of him her pent-up fury was checked, just for an instant.
He had his eyes tightly closed and was hunched forward in his seat, fists bunched upon the surface of his desk, grey hair in disarray, long spikes and strands radiating wildly from the sides of his head. His face was set in a taut, rancorous grimace; his brow and fleshy nose were blistered with tiny gleaming beads of sweat, his skin a mass of vivid red blotches. Momentarily she thought he had been struck by disease.
Fectur's eyes flashed open as the young Queen entered. He grunted, coerced a flicker of a smile onto his grim visage and slowly heaved himself erect, apparently with some effort. "My Queen."
"Fectur, what have you done?" Her anger returned, tempered just a little by curiosity. This was Fectur, the master of iron self-control. She had anticipated his discomfiture at her return, but to see him thus, all but a-tremble, openly the victim of his emotions, took her unawares. On a very few occasions in the past she had seen the red welts appear when his anger or frustration grew great, but this was something of a different order. He was a man in the grip of powerful demons.
She almost felt sympathy. Almost. But as, in the early evening, she had passed through the city gate and up the magnificent azalea and conifer-lined Sovereign's Boulevard to enter the Palace of Orbia, she had gained her first inklings of recent events here. She had sensed that something was wrong the moment she had arrived at the city gate. It was revealed in the faces of the soldiers w
hen she announced herself, their initial confusion when she had demanded a guard of honour to escort her to the Palace. It was unspoken, sombre, furtive, and it permeated the very air of Enchantment's Reach. Something. Intangible, indefinable. A gravity, a shadowy expectancy, a brooding imminence. Something.
In disquieted tones the captain of her guard had told her of the King's sad decline as they rode, of the Lord High Invigilate's ascent to Regent. Issul's hackles rose further with every fresh word he spoke. And through her rage and disbelief had come a fear. How powerful had Fectur become? Did he have the support of the government and army? Somehow he had contrived Leth's downfall in order to seize control for himself, that much was obvious. But legally, now, with her return, he must relinquish sovereignty to her. Would he do so? Did he need to? Or was she about to confront her own demise?
Her stomach had knotted. Was everything lost? Who could she rely on? The fabulous towers stretching above her now seemed ominous and chill. But she would not shrink. For her family and the realm she would face Fectur and learn the worst.
"My lady, welcome. Welcome back," said Fectur now, through his teeth. Fists still upon the desktop he gave a stiff bow.
"What have you done, Fectur? Where is the King? Where are my children?" She had run straight to the royal apartments, seeking Leth whom she had been informed was under medical supervision, and Galry and Jace. She found none of them, and her questions had brought only garbled replies from her staff and Fectur's guards, who were disconcertingly in evidence. She was breathless now, frantic with concern.
