The Flight from Kar (The Emperor's Library

by Frederick Kirchhoff

  ▲

  “We’ve saved the library,” the Emperor announced, surveying Falco’s work one last time. “Now we’ll have to leave this place and begin our campaign against the enemy.”

  “If I were I younger man, I would be proud to stand with you in battle,” Lawrence said. “Not that I was ever a swordsman. But I’m too old for that, I fear—certainly too old even for the journey you contemplate. You will need to travel quickly and I’m slow on my feet. With your permission, Sire, I would like to remain here. Along with Ellen, if she’s still willing.”

  “I’m willing, Grandfather,” she said. “Whom else do I have but you?”

  “But how will you live?” the Emperor asked.

  “We’ll manage. Talis has assured us of that.”

  “Yes,” Talis said. “For I know this land. Once they realize that the Emperor has escaped, the Chosen will lose interest in West House; and, when that happens, we’ll return to the village, where I have many friends. I’ll invent a credible story, and there’s safety in age. People don’t hold old men strictly accountable for what they say. In truth, they write you off as fools.”

  Meanwhile, consulting with Alf, Falco had arranged for stones to be rolled to the head of the stairway. When the time came, these would be used to block the lower entrance. And Falco had another trick up his sleeve—and one he’d conceived without Alf’s help. Over the weeks, his cooks had been saving the fragmented bones of slaughtered cattle. Now they burned them. Examined closely, they could be distinguished from human remains, but someone looking for human remains after a conflagration might be deceived.

  “People see what they expect to see,” Falco observed, and Alf had to agree with him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  As predicted, the Chosen soon returned—this time an army of five hundred, accompanied by half a dozen wagons. Once more Jon was impressed by their organization.

  A herald wearing a steel helmet rode up to the fortress and pounded on its door with a mace, demanding admittance.

  “On what business?” Falco asked, poking his head out from above.

  “To have audience with the Emperor.”

  “The Emperor is at his dinner. Anything you have to say can be said to me, and I will convey it to His Imperial Highness.”

  The man looked annoyed. He wanted to speak to the Emperor, not to some underling.

  “Tell His Majesty that he has nothing to fear from us. Our soldiers are here to escort him back to Kar with honor. Once he’s proclaimed our faith the state religion, he will be returned to his throne and allowed to rule under the guidance of the Great Teacher.”

  “What if he refuses?”

  The herald’s eyes narrowed.

  “Give him to us, and we’ll allow the rest of you to go free. No questions asked.”

  “I shall deliver your message.”

  The Emperor was, in fact only a few steps behind Falco.

  “Ask him to give me a day to decide,” he whispered.

  “Only a day?”

  “One day is all we need.”

  Allowing a suitable time to pass, Falco reappeared and gave his reply.

  “The Emperor will give you his answer in a day’s time.”

  “I must determine the will of my commander,” the herald told Falco and then rode back. It did not take him long to return.

  “The High Commander is willing to grant him more than half the respite he requests. It’s afternoon now. We’ll expect an answer by an hour past dawn tomorrow. Tell your Emperor that if he refuses our offer he’s been unwise to have taken refuge in a tower surrounded by wooden buildings. Death by fire is not a pleasant way to go.”

  “This just might work,” the Emperor whispered to Falco.

  “I was confident in the success of your plan.”

  ▲

  While there was still light, the Emperor’s guard brought armfuls of dry grass and twigs down to the lower fortress, laying this tinder around and inside the buildings adjacent to the tower and placing the charred bones among them. Since the enemy was going to assist in their plan to burn the fortress, they’d make it easy for them. But animal bones alone wouldn’t convince them that the building had been manned at the time of its destruction. They’d have to see evidence of an active defense, and that meant someone would have to stay below during the first part of the siege.

  “Your Majesty,” Falco said, “I beg for the honor to be the last to leave the fortress.”

  “Why you, Falco? I am the Emperor. It should be I who risks his life, not you.”

  “No, Your Highness. Forgive me for differing, but it should not be you—it cannot be you. As Emperor, you cannot put yourself in unnecessary danger. Think of what might happen. It could signify the total victory of your enemies. But the leaders of the Chosen have seen that I speak on your behalf, and so, if they see me they will assume you are nearby. That’s why I ask permission to undertake this mission.”

  Somewhat relieved, the Emperor agreed to Falco’s request, but then David asked that he, too, be allowed to stay below.

  “We must convince them that a group are defending the fortress,” he explained. “Does your collection of arms include bows?” he asked Talis.

  “Indeed it does. Bows and a good stock of arrows. Keeping the arms in good condition has always been among my duties,” Talis replied. “I think you will find the armory here well furnished.”

  “Good,” David said. “I have seen Falco hunting and I know he’s a good shot, but one marksman isn’t enough. The arrows must come from different vantages, and the more we wound or kill, the more bowmen they’ll believe we have.”

  “Then I should be with you, too,” Alice said. “I can handle a bow—my father taught me along with my brothers. I may not be as good a shot as David or Falco, but I know how to hit a target.”

  She and David passed a knowing glance between one another.

  “But no more than three,” the Emperor replied, looking at Zoë. “T want to risk no more than is absolutely necessary. The villagers have no doubt informed them that I have a dozen in my guard; moving about, three should be able to give the illusion of that many.”

  And then he walked away and stood alone looking out over the valley. Perhaps no one but Jon sensed what he was feeling at this moment. It must have been the first time the Emperor had given an order based on the assumption that his life was of greater value than that of a subject, and Jon was glad to see that the man had been affected by the experience. David and Alice may have meant little to him, but no one was closer to the Emperor than Falco, and now Falco was risking his life for him. Happily, the Emperor had not changed so much that he now took such loyalty for granted.

  ▲

  Dawn came, and then the hour past dawn. The sky grew cloudy and a few drops of rain fell, but then the clouds appeared to be breaking up.

  At length, the herald approached the gate, now on foot, but still wearing his helmet. Eight soldiers came with him, two by two, ready to escort the Emperor away. Falco, who’d been standing to one side of the aperture above the gate moved forward so that he was visible from below.

  “The hour has come,” the herald called out loudly. “Has the Emperor made his decision?”

  “He has,” replied Falco. “And he has instructed me to inform you that he gives you and your commander one hour to depart this valley. If you are not gone within that time, his soldiers will give you no quarter.”

  Several of the men accompanying the herald snickered, but the herald remained poker-faced.

  “Then your master has determined to die. That choice was his and now he has taken it. But what of you? Will you sacrifice your life for an infidel?”

  Falco looked into the man’s eyes.

  “I’d be proud to give my life for my Emperor, and I’m not alone to feel that way. Our numbers are small, but you will find us formidable adversaries.”

  “We know your numbers. And we know who fled Kar with the Emperor. His librarian and a few kitchen hel
p were all that remained of the palace staff. Such creatures can be no threat. And know that we’ll not rest until the Emperor himself is brought to judgment. By order of the High Commander, the lives of all who seek to prevent his fate are forfeit. None who refuse to surrender will leave this place alive.”

  At that threat, David loosed an arrow, which struck the herald in the neck. Several of the soldiers started to help him, but when David wounded another with a second arrow they scurried back. Alice and Falco also shot arrows, and Alice hit one of the men running away. The effect was precisely what they’d wanted—despite the herald’s scorn of librarians and kitchen staff, the enemy must now believe a formidable adversary was inside the tower—including men who cared nothing for the laws of war.

  Watching the encounter from a the edge of the cliff, Jon felt uneasy about the murder of the herald. That wasn’t the sort of thing that was supposed to happen. For him, it seemed a sign of desperation, but perhaps the Chosen saw it otherwise. He wondered how they would react.

  For what seemed a long time, nothing else happened. Were the Chosen were waiting for them to act next? But then the enemy swung into action, posting themselves at intervals around the fortress, while troops began wheeling up two wooden machines, which they must have assembled over night. Other men lit a large fire. So this was how they planned to attack.

  In moments the machines hurled their first missiles—clay pots of flaming tar. The fire went out as the first one passed through the air, but the second projectile started a minor blaze among weeds at the foot of the wall. It took several minutes for the operators to ready the machines for a second volley. Meanwhile, the defenders continued to send arrows whenever one of the Chosen came within range. David managed to wound three more men—one fatally—and Alice hit two others, one of whom fell to the ground and began slowly crawling back toward his comrades.

  Then came more missiles. This time, one of them fell through the roof of a shed and began a conflagration that quickly spread through the buildings at the base of the tower.

  “We’ve got to go now,” Falco said. “The floors of the tower will be burning in a few minutes.”

  Alice and David exchanged glances.

  “If we stop firing, they’ll rush the door,” David said. “They’d rather have the Emperor alive than dead. But you should go, Falco. The Emperor needs you.”

  “Yes, Falco,” Alice said. “We’re going to stay.”

  Falco wavered.

  “You have to do this or the plan is ruined,” David explained. “Don’t you see? They have to find someone here if they’re to believe the Emperor perished—someone who escapes to tell them what happened. And it can’t be you, Falco. Without you, the Emperor will be in unnecessary danger. He can’t afford to lose you, but he can afford to lose us.”

  “You are both braver than I.”

  “No, we’re not,” David told him. “It’s just that there are things we must do. But don’t worry. Alice and I will escape. We’ll have to pretend to surrender—you heard what the herald said before I shot him.”

  “Don’t worry, Falco,” Alice added. “We’ll get away—if not today, then tomorrow. And we’ll return to the Emperor.”

  The fire was already in the lower floor of the tower and smoke had begun to fill its interior when Falco made it up to where the door opened into the mountain. Blocked by rubble from the outside, it would be difficult to find. Blocked from the inside, it would be impossible to open. Alf was waiting for him just inside the door.

  “Hurry,” he said. “But where are the others?”

  “They’re not coming.”

  Falco closed the door and they hurried up to the plateau, where men had levered stones into position and were now waiting to push them the final inches. Falco hesitated to give the signal. Then, looking down the stairway one more time, he ordered them to go ahead. As the first stone fell, Jon, who’d been watching, heard it slamming against the edge of the staircase before hitting the floor. It was followed by a second and then a third and finally a fourth stone. The plan had succeeded. They couldn’t have opened the door to the tower now, even if they’d wanted to. Yet Jon felt the loss of the stairway—not only had it been beautiful workmanship, but it also had a significance he’d been unable to grasp. Moreover, now David and Alice were either dead or in the hands of an implacable foe. Everyone was praising their bravery, but surely the sacrifice had been unnecessary.

  ▲

  The Emperor now announced his intention to go to the Southland. The Chosen and their allies may have taken control of the River Road, but Zoë had long been confident that, if they could make it to Krapàn, she could lead them to Bent Lake. At first, reaching Krapàn had seemed a problem, but the Emperor now had an answer for it.

  “Before sealing the library,” the Emperor explained, “I restudied the maps of this region, and both confirmed that the road along the eastern edge of the mountains continues south, with a series of connections to the Imperial road system, which we could use to make our way to Krapàn. It would require care; we’d have to send out scouts to ensure that any towns we entered were not strongholds of the Chosen, and that would slow our progress. But safety is more important than speed.”

  “But, Your Highness,” Falco objected. “Surely it is safer to travel north. We should be able to make our way to one of the ports west of Tarnak in a few weeks. I’m not suggesting you flee the Empire, but traveling into the heart of the continent is dangerous. Scouts or no scouts, you might find yourself surrounded by the enemy. And this valley in the South that Zoë and her friends describe could prove a trap. We may be able to enter it, but will we be able to leave it if the Chosen block the way? Isn’t it wiser to keep more options open?”

  The Emperor was used to relying on Falco. Jon felt his uncertainty.

  “I cannot agree,” Zoë said. “What Falco says about escape makes sense, but where would you escape to? I know nothing about the lands beyond the Empire, but you can’t want to spend your life among foreigners. In the South you’ll find friends. Falco says the North is safer, but what could be more safe than men and women eager to defend you? And Jon knows that there is more than one entrance to the Valley of Women. And Klei as well. He came that way once, too.”

  The Emperor raised his eyes and looked at her keenly.

  “I do not want to escape,” he said. “And you and Falco know that. I want to preserve the Empire. I don’t care if I ever sit on a throne again—not that I ever sat on one. But I want to assemble a force capable of overcoming the Chosen. It will take time, but we must think in the long term. I could easily live for another fifty years—my father was in vigorous health when he was killed; and, even from small beginnings, much can be accomplished in half a century. Our goal is to exterminate those vermin, and all we do must be aimed at that end.”

  “I was wrong,” Falco said. “You are right to want to journey south.”

  “Your Highness,” Zoë said, her eyes glittering with joy. “You speak like the Emperor of this land.”

  Indeed he did. At moments like this, his words were almost irresistible, and going south was the right thing to do. Yet the Emperor’s plan to get there was wrong—Jon was sure of that.

  “Yes, by all means let us go to Bent Lake,” he said. “But I worry about the route.”

  “Of course you do,” Zoë replied. “We all worry about the route. As the Emperor says, we’ll have to avoid the Chosen, and there’s no way to know how far they may have penetrated. But there’s no alternative.”

  “There may be one.”

  ”You know another way?” Zoë asked, surprise in her voice.

  “Yes, I know another way. At least what may be another way.”

  “Then tell us, Jon,” the Emperor said. “Your information may prove important.”

  Now that all eyes were on him, Jon had no choice but to follow through what he’d begun. So, feeling with every word that he was betraying a trust—for hadn’t he and John agreed that it was to remain their sec
ret?—Jon described his journey to the Western Ocean, and suggested that David’s pass over the mountains might lead to the strip of land that he and John had visited. Of course that spot had been distant, yet the coastal plain had appeared to grow wider, not narrower, as it stretched north.

  “Talis told us of a legendary land across the mountains. It may be what John and I saw. And what could be safer than a place without human habitation? Moreover, once we’ve traveled far enough, there’s an easy way back to the River Road. But it’s all only guesswork. I can’t claim anything more.”

  And yet, even as he spoke those words, he knew it wasn’t guesswork, for a map of the western land appeared in his head like something he’d known all his life.

  “You never said anything about that, Jon,” Zoë murmured. “You and my brother crossed the mountains and saw the Western Ocean. It’s incredible to think of that. And you never said a word. I couldn’t have kept such a secret.”

  “Wow,” was all Alf could think to say. “Were there monkeys there, like Talis said?”

  “None that we saw. Just a lot of sand, mostly.”

  Klei looked into Jon’s face, but said nothing. He understood why Jon had kept the journey secret and why revealing it now pained him.

  “What do you think, Falco?” the Emperor asked. “Is Jon’s suggestion reasonable?”

  “If the land you speak of exists, why is no one living there, Jon?” Falco asked.

  “I can’t answer that question. Someone may live there. We saw only one small spot at its far end, and, although we encountered no other humans, we found evidence that they’d lived there in the past. So some may remain, although, as I said, we saw none. But I know there’s game—rabbits near the shore and fish in the sea. Yet, to be honest, I can’t promise the route I’m proposing will take us to the place John and I visited, much less to Krapàn. The mountains may come up against the ocean again, just as they do beyond the pass we crossed.”