Thrice Bound

by Roberta Gellis

  Still, they had to know. After much argument, Hekate was forced to agree that Kabeiros should try to get inside. If he smelled Perses, he would escape immediately; if the sorcerer truly wasn't in the palace, he would try to gauge the quality of the apprentice.

  Following close on the heels of a butcher delivering meat, Kabeiros gained entrance without the slightest difficulty. He was shocked at the laxity and dullness of the servants. They did smell of a foul magic but the smell was old, and they were like ill-controlled automata. Even when one looked directly at him, he showed neither emotion or curiosity about the huge black dog that had appeared in the kitchen quarters, and allowed Kabeiros to escape into the main house without outcry. After that, Kabeiros went on with some confidence that all the rumors were true and Perses had left Byblos or lost his power. The man Hekate feared so much wouldn't have barely functioning servants.

  He investigated the whole house, smelling for magic and found only old traces, like those of the compulsion on the servants. Fresh magic only wafted from one room—and that room was neither locked nor bespelled. Work with jaw and paw on the latch let Kabeiros enter what had obviously been a sorcerer's workroom, although little sign of real magical apparatus remained. The spell smell was concentrated on a single medium-size amphora, both capped with wax and sealed with magic. There was also a hidden power source.

  Then, as he was about to slip out of the door and leave, the apprentice entered the room. Unable to escape, Kabeiros abased himself, wagging his tail and fawning on the young man, who greeted him with about equal surprise and delight. Kabeiros' suprise and delight were much stronger; he had known that the apprentice had little Talent, but he hadn't known that the boy was a total blockhead. Even a stupid apprentice should be alarmed by discovering a large dog in his workroom. Kabeiros could only conclude that the boy had been selected for his perfection of Ka'ananite beauty, not Talent or brains.

  Of course, whatever wits the boy had had might have been addled by the powerful compulsion spell he carried—and that, unlike the servants' spells, was working perfectly. The apprentice stank of magic, but not his own, and the compulsion spell might have made him even duller than he was naturally. Fortunately, the compulsion did not seem to cover the appearance of nonhuman creatures in the workroom.

  Fawning on the boy gave Kabeiros license to stay close to his "new master." In the three days he remained in the palace he learned the entire progression of the rites and who would do what when. Court functionaries came and went—perhaps fifteen all together—and every one of them was also bound by a compulsion spell. No wonder Perses could leave his apprentice alone to carry out his orders. Moreover, when giving those orders, the apprentice seemed to come alive, to speak in a different, richer voice. Internally Kabeiros shrank into a hard protective ball. The apprentice was, at those times, seemingly under the direct control of Perses.

  The compulsion, or whatever spell it was that controlled the apprentice, was incredibly detailed and seemed to have an answer for every contingency. Kabeiros panted a little with anxiety; this spell, as intricate as anything Hekate herself had devised, was evidence of the mage Hekate feared. About the only thing Perses had not foreseen was the advent of a large black dog carrying a man's mind.

  After the apprentice was asleep on the third night, Kabeiros crept away, waited until a servant needed to use the privy, and escaped into the night. He felt a little sorry for the apprentice, who was plainly very lonely and had showered him with affection, but since it was partly on his account they were thrusting themselves into danger, he went without reluctance. However, had he known how he would be greeted on his return to Hekate's lodging, he might have stayed the night.

  * * *

  When Kabeiros did not return the night of the day he went to the advisor's palace, Hekate went half out of her mind with fear and regret. Before he could even have reached the advisor's palace, she had begun to lash herself for Kabeiros' imagined suffering and death because she let him go. Free of guilt, Dionysos pointed this out, laughing at her and assuring her that Kabeiros was strong and clever and well able to fend for himself.

  When night fell Hekate cried she couldn't bear waiting any longer and readied herself to go after him. Again Dionysos held her back, reminding her that Kabeiros had said he might not find any opportunity to get into the place during the day. Hekate had cast an angry glance at Dionysos, but she hung up the thin black cloak she had removed from its hook and sat down where she could look out of the window. Knowing how she felt, Kabeiros had extracted a promise from her not to interfere within a reasonable time.

  In case he could not get past servants or guards during the day, Kabeiros had said, he would wait for night and try to squeeze past someone going to the privy, enter with someone returning, or slip in while doors and windows were checked for security. Since he didn't expect to learn much with everyone asleep, he would probably stay the following day.

  "And you know, he could even get locked in a second night," Dionysos warned. "For the Mother's sake, Hekate, you will put him in more danger by going there. When Kabeiros traveled with me and we got into trouble, it was more often Kabeiros who found a way out than I. He's very clever. Don't . . . don't treat him as if he were a dog."

  That silenced Hekate. She knew how hurt Kabeiros felt when she tried to protect him, as if he were less than a man because he wore the form of a dog. And although she grew more and more frightened as the hours of the second day passed and she saw that Dionysos was also growing uneasy, she still did nothing. It was too late to do anything about Kabeiros anyway. Either he was free and trying to learn as much as he could and would be furious if she interfered, or he had been caught by Perses that first day and was dead or in Perses' power.

  Grief and terror distilled themselves all through that day and the sleepless night that followed into a rage so white-hot that on the morning of the third day she seemed to have found an icy calm. Only Dionysos who knew her so long realized she was no longer rational. He wasn't wise in magic, but he knew that was no way to confront a clever sorcerer and he managed to get across to her the fact that the only one who would benefit if she attacked Perses unprepared was Perses. Nor could it do Kabeiros any good if she were dead or also bound to Perses' will.

  "We have planned what to do when there were three of us," he said. "Now you must think of how to manage when there are only two. I can threaten you-know-who physically at the same time that I try to confuse his mind, but my threat will not be as startling as that of a huge black dog. Think, Hekate, how to make me more fearsome. An illusion?"

  "I have lost Kabeiros." Hekate's voice was flat, as if terror and grief and rage had battled within her until she was emotionless. "I could not bear to lose you also. No, Dionysos, I will go alone."

  "To what purpose?" Dionysos asked, cocking his head as if in curious inquiry. "If you just want to be dead, you could jump into the ocean or step in front of a heavy cart. If you want revenge on `that one,' you must leave him as you told me Baltaseros was. I think if I can distract him long enough for you to lay a hand on him and start the spell, I will be quite safe. I think you said it works very fast."

  "The spell!" Hekate stood up like a sleepwalker. "To make him like Baltaseros," she breathed. "Oh, yes. But I need to be able to compress the invocation." She looked at Dionysos and for a moment her grief showed on her face so that she almost took on the appearance of the crone without shifting. "It is too late to save Kabeiros so another few hours cannot matter. You are very right, Dionysos. I need to prepare a few spells and try once again to make the draining spell work the way I want it to work."

  At two or three candlemarks after dark, Hekate came out of the inner room and showed Dionysos the little figurine. He hesitated to touch it; in the past it had been so strong a repository of power that it made his fingers tingle. Hekate smiled at him and urged him to take it. It was dead.

  "And I cannot make it accept power again, no matter whether I draw from high or low." She smiled. Dionys
os shuddered at her expression, which made her laugh. "Come. I'm ready to go now."

  "How will we get in at this time of night?"

  "I will blast down the door. That should bring `him' quickly enough—"

  "And warn `him' of attack by an enemy."

  Hekate smiled again. "All to the good. He will think of those enemies who would naturally use violence. He wouldn't expect it of me."

  Dionysos shrugged and went to get the two black cloaks. "You know best," he said.

  And a dog scratched on the door. The cloaks slipped from Dionysos' nerveless hand and he spun to face the sound. Hekate choked on a sob and rushed toward the door. Dionysos caught her.

  "Do you think that is truly Kabeiros?" he whispered.

  Tears were now pouring down Hekate's face. "No," she sobbed, "no. But we must let it in to destroy it."

  CHAPTER 26

  The door was opened. Kabeiros stepped through. If he had come as a man, he would have been dead. The dog's senses were sharp enough to catch a gleam of metal and sense a violent overhand blow directed at him. He leapt forward and sideways, which put him just out of the direct line of Hekate's pointed finger. The spell of dissolution brushed him and he howled. Although he was invulnerable to magic, that spell burned.

  *What the hell are you doing?* he bellowed mentally. *Are you both mad?*

  Dionysos, charging forward with his left arm wrapped in the cloaks he had hastily scooped up and his right holding his long knife, tripped over his own feet and fell sprawling as the soundless voice roared into his mind. Hekate had barely time enough to avert her pointing finger. A large hole appeared in the wall above Kabeiros' head.

  After the crash of splintering supports and the whoosh of falling remains of mud and withies, a dead silence fell. Kabeiros stood with mouth agape and raised hackles. Dionysos stared up at the dog that could easily have leapt on him and torn out his throat if it were inimical. Hekate sank to her knees, hope and terror making her breath come fast.

  "Kabeiros?" she whispered.

  *How many other black dogs of my size with white eyes have you come across recently?* he asked irritably. *Who did you expect?*

  *I thought . . . he . . . had taken you and sent something in disguse . . . Oh, Kabeiros, is it really you?*

  For answer, the image of the man with whom both Hekate and Dionysos were familiar rose above the dog. Dionysos climbed to his feet, sheathed his knife, hung up the cloaks again, and seated himself at the table. Hekate burst into tears and crossed the floor on her knees to fling her arms around Kabeiros.

  "I thought you were dead," she sobbed. "I thought you were bound in torment."

  *You don't have much faith in me, do you?*

  *You know that's not true.* She sat upright and sniffed. *You know how I feel about . . . him.*

  The dog shook himself. *I don't know whether to say you are completely wrong or that you're completely right. I wasn't in that house three days for nothing. One thing is sure, he isn't there. I covered the place from the roof to every outhouse. The only ones there are the apprentice and eight servants. And no one has done any magic there for some time, although a source of power exists.*

  "Just power? No new spells? And he wasn't there!" She shrugged. "Are you hungry, thirsty?"

  *No. I was fed and overfed. The apprentice fell in love with me . . . poor boy.*

  "Poor boy! He apprenticed himself to him, didn't he?"

  *I doubt it,* Kabeiros said, and went on to tell them everything, ending, "There's one more very strange thing. Whenever he receives a court official, the apprentice wears a mask.*

  "A mask?" Hekate echoed the mental statement aloud.

  "What kind of mask?" Dionysos asked. "Is it blank? Is it painted to create awe? Is it terrifying?"

  "It's tinted and shaped to the boy's face, but there's no attempt to hide the fact that it is a mask. Nor is there any attempt to use it to frighten or awe. And I can't think why you-know-who should want to hide the boy's face; it's almost a classic Ka'ananite portrait."

  Hekate shrugged. "You said his voice when speaking to the officials was deeper and more mature. Perhaps the mask is just to hide how young the apprentice is."

  *Perhaps.* But Kaberiros' mental voice was filled with doubt. *I can't see how it could make any difference. Every one of them is spelled to obey.*

  *Strong spells?* Hekate asked.

  *Yes, but they're wearing thin. I doubt they'll hold another moon without renewal.*

  "They won't need to hold as long as that," Hekate said with a slight shiver. "And they won't need renewal. Didn't you say that all those officials are supposed to go into the tomb? If his plan works, they'll all die there."

  She shivered again and then got to her feet. "Well, you may have been fed, but Dionysos and I are starving. Our appetites were not at their best while you were gone."

  The dog lolled out his tongue. *Serves you right. If you were willing to give me the smallest credit for common sense if not for cleverness, you would have eaten and slept. Now, where are you going to get food at this time of night? Do you want me to hunt?*

  "That would take hours. No, you don't have to hunt. The food is here."

  Hekate left the table and went to a shelf along the wall from which she lifted down a large covered bowl and crock. Dionysos followed her and collected two more bowls and some earthenware plates, which he set on the table. As Hekate dismissed the stasis spell that had kept the food fresh and began to serve herself and Dionysos, she showed Kabeiros each dish. To keep them company, he selected some stew and two slices of fat mutton, which Hekate put on a plate down on the floor. For a while all three ate in silence.

  When Hekate refilled their cups with well-watered wine, she said, "Let me see if I have the sequence of the rites clearly in mind. In eight days, the king's body will be placed in its sarcophagus. A procession of all those who will accompany it to the tomb will follow the body to the palace. You-know-who, together with the apprentice and the prince, who will be crowned king after the king's body is entombed, will meet the body and the procession in the great hall of the palace." She frowned. "What will they do there?"

  *No one mentioned that,* Kabeiros said. *I suppose there will be prayers and eulogies.*

  "I would think it would depend on the prince," Dionysos remarked indifferently.

  "Holy Mother," Hekate breathed, "I wonder if he intends to transfer all the spells he laid upon the king to the prince at once? That could be why he didn't bother with the prince before." She blinked. "Is that possible? Would the spells have held after the old man died?"

  "You're asking me?" Dionysos said, with a laugh. "Kabeiros may know something about magic, but I don't."

  *I don't know that,* Kabeiros said, *but it seems a crazy thing to do before he's in the apprentice's body.*

  Hekate sighed. "Yes. We must examine the whole process. To go on: In the great hall, four of the selected attendants will stand vigil a candlemark at a time, until all have served, going to wait with their fellows in a specially prepared chamber. When the last four leave the sarcophagus, it will be carried to the tomb. The funeral goods will then be carried in and placed around the sarcophagus. Finally, the attendants will enter. Each will carry into the tomb a figurine of themselves—"

  "So that's why they're all so willing to participate," Dionysos said. "They think they'll leave the figurines in the tomb to attend the dead king in the afterlife."

  *It must be then that the mass killing will take place,* Kabeiros pointed out. *Do you think the figurines are bespelled to kill?*

  "I doubt it," Hekate said thoughtfully. "No matter what orders he gives—unless all the attendants are under compulsion, and I think that would be too much, even for him—there will be some disorder once the attendants enter the tomb. The bolder and more ambitious will probably enter the actual burial chamber to place their figurines on or near the sarcophagus . . . to be first in attendance when the king rises. No, I think it's that golden cup of sacramental wine you mentioned
. You said there would be a loud fanfare of horns and they will all drink together. They'll almost certainly do that as ordered—and if we don't stop him, they'll all die nearly at once—"

  *You're right.* Kabeiros stood and circled nervously before he sat down again. *That's what must be in that amphora I noticed in the workroom, the one that was sealed with a spell. What a shame I didn't knock it over and break it.*

  Hekate shrugged. "If it was that important and the apprentice is as much of an idiot as you think, you wouldn't have been able to knock it over. The spell could have fixed it in place as well as sealing it." She hesitated. "Are you sure he isn't there, Kabeiros?"

  *I am sure he wasn't there until the moment I left the house.*

  "Then I think I better get in there tomorrow and see if I can make the contents of that amphora harmless. Then, even if . . . if I fail to control him, the spell of transferance will fail. Maybe he'll die . . ."

  She thought Kabeiros would object, but he said, *That's a good idea. The servants are little more than bad automata and I think the apprentice will be so glad to see me that I will be able to keep him away from the workroom. Unless what you do to the amphora sets off some alarm . . .*

  "That wouldn't matter if he is at Ur-Kabos. It's at least a candlemark away, even if he gallops a horse all the way."

  "But why should he go to Ur-Kabos?" Dionysos asked. "It seems mad to go so far from a complicated work-in-progress. Does it occur to you that there is a much more logical place for him to be? The palace itself."

  "Oh, dear Mother," Hekate sighed. "How could I be so stupid? He must be at the palace. He must be ensorcelling the prince!"

  *That's all too likely,* Kabeiros said, *but there's nothing we can do in the middle of the night. I suppose we should have found an excuse to get inside so you could establish a leaping spot, but we didn't, and truthfully I'm so tired now, I'd be no use. I'm going to sleep for a while and think about this tomorrow.*