‘Under the new emergency powers the rights citizens shall be accorded are at the discretion of legally designated law enforcers,’ Bastorran chanted.
‘How am I expected to prove my innocence under such conditions?’
‘As far as we’re concerned, the question of your innocence or guilt is already settled.’
‘If that’s the case, why should I co-operate?’
‘Because things will go easier on you if you do.’
‘Show me a law I’ve broken. Cite me one example of–’
‘This isn’t so much about anything you’ve done. It’s your friends in the so-called Resistance whose activities interest us. Tell us about that and you’ll find us much more accommodating. But carry on obstructing us…’ He left the threat hanging.
‘I’m afraid I can’t help you.’
‘Afraid? You don’t know the meaning of–’
There was a light tap on the open cell door. Visibly irritated, Bastorran swung round to see his aide, Lahon Meakin, hovering there. ‘Yes? What is it?’
‘Your pardon, sir, but you asked me to let you know when our visitor was ready to see the prisoner.’
‘Ah, yes.’ He turned back to Rukanis. ‘One moment.’
He left the room with his aide, slamming the door behind them.
Kinsel sagged in his chair. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take, and there were ominous signs that they hadn’t even started to flex their muscles yet. And now somebody else seemed to be involved, though he was damned if he could think who.
The door opened again, breaking his chain of thought.
Devlor Bastorran came back in, accompanied by an almost skeletally thin man, probably in his sixties. He was totally bald and clean-shaven, with lips that were a colourless slash, and sharp, intensely blue eyes. His expensive clothes had a discreet quality often associated with the rich and powerful. The man seemed vaguely familiar to Kinsel, but he had no recollection of ever meeting him.
‘You have a caller,’ Bastorran announced as though ushering in a guest at a social event. ‘This is Commissioner Laffon, of the Council for Internal Security.’
Kinsel didn’t know what to say. This was a very important man; the head of the CIS himself. And if everything he’d heard about him was true, a man whose reputation wasn’t entirely without blemish.
‘Thank you, General, that will be all,’ Laffon told Bastorran.
The paladin looked offended at being dismissed as though he were a mere lackey. ‘You may want someone to stay with you and the prisoner,’ he suggested.
‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’
Bastorran nodded curtly and left, leaving the door half open. Laffon pushed it until it was just ajar. Then he grinned widely at Kinsel and moved forward to grasp his bound hands. ‘I am so pleased to meet you.’
Kinsel was taken aback. ‘You are?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m a great admirer of your singing talents. I’ve seen you perform several times back in Merakasa.’ He sat on the seat Bastorran had recently vacated. ‘So, how are you?’ he asked.
It seemed such an absurd question the singer wasn’t sure how to respond. ‘Um. Well…’
‘Aggrieved, no doubt. Angry and vexed at finding yourself dealt with in this way. That’s very understandable. We must clear up this awful mistake.’
‘Mistake?’
‘Yes, of course. That’s what it is, isn’t it? I mean, a respectable man like yourself, a man of your stature, would hardly associate with unsavoury elements.’
‘I can say in all truth, Commissioner, that I don’t mix with anyone unsavoury.’
‘Quite so. I was sure this must all be a terrible misunderstanding. Not least because of your well-known support of pacifism.’
‘I’ve never made a secret of the fact that I believe in nonviolence.’
‘And I admire you for that, I really do. I wish I had your moral fibre. The thing is…Well, not everyone feels the way you do. It’s very regrettable, but it’s the world we live in.’
‘I’m aware of that. What’s it to do with me?’
‘The accusations against you centre mostly on the company you’re said to keep. You say you’re above reproach in this regard, and of course I completely accept that. But given the large number of people a man like yourself must meet, isn’t it possible that certain of them might have taken advantage of your…shall we say innocence?’
‘No. I mean…how could they?’
‘Don’t underestimate your own importance. You’ve had access to echelons of society most people are excluded from. Wouldn’t you concede the possibility that you might have dropped the occasional indiscreet word about what you’d seen and heard? Or have you never been tempted, perhaps, to carry out a small task for friendly acquaintances?’
‘I’m a singer, not a politician or a street fighter. And certainly not an odd job man or message carrier.’
‘Ah. Messages.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You just said message carrier. I didn’t mention it, you did. I wonder why.’
‘Well, from what you were saying, it just seemed natural to assume…’
‘You see? That’s how easy it is.’
‘What do you mean? What’s easy?’
‘Forgetting little things in a busy life. I asked if you’d ever undertaken any chores, and you mention carrying messages.’
‘No, that’s not what I meant. You make it sound as though I’ve done something to be ashamed of, and I haven’t.’
‘Then nothing’s lost by you passing on some names,’ Laffon returned triumphantly.
‘You’re twisting my words, making me out to be some kind of criminal.’
The Commissioner looked appalled. ‘I wouldn’t dream of suggesting such a thing. I’m sure you’ve never done anything to endanger the security of the state…intentionally.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘We can never be entirely certain what the intentions of others might be. When it comes to state security, that’s a job for the professionals. All you have to do is supply a list of names–’
‘Why should I be part of subjecting other people to this sort of treatment?’
‘So there are other people, then?’
‘I was speaking hypothetically.’
‘Do these hypothetical people have real names?’
‘I can’t help you, Commissioner.’
‘You might think that certain people you know are innocent, and perhaps they are, but that needs to be properly investigated.’
‘Any names I gave you would be purely as the result of pressure. There really wouldn’t be anyone deserving of your attention.’
‘Let us be the judge of that.’
‘I want an advocate present before I say anything else.’
‘That isn’t possible.’ Laffon sighed. ‘Look, Rukanis, there are hard, violent men in this world.’
‘That’s rather a statement of the obvious, isn’t it, Commissioner?’
‘What may not be so obvious to you is that many of them are paladins, and it’s the paladins who are holding you at the moment. There’s a limit to the influence I might have in this case.’
‘My understanding is that the clans are soldiers of fortune in the empire’s employ. You have authority over them.’
‘Ultimately, yes. But what with the officialdom that bedevils us these days, and the fact that this is a protectorate and not Gath Tampoor itself…well, it could take some time to estab lish who has supremacy. While it was being sorted out, you’d remain in their custody. Whereas, if you co-operate fully with me now, I might be able to get you transferred to the custody of the CIS. I’m sure you’d find my department much more reasonable in these matters.’
‘You’ll forgive me for doubting that.’
Exasperation showed on Laffon’s features. ‘You’re failing to appreciate how grave your situation is, Rukanis. You don’t know how much we’ve learnt about your activities.’
‘You don’t understand, do you? This isn’t a question of your innocence or guilt, or whether you’ve been naive. It’s about doing what we tell you.’
‘In all conscience, I can’t.’
‘Few of us can afford the luxury of a conscience in these troubled times. Speak, man. Tell what you know and avoid any…unpleasantness.’
‘I’ve already said–’
‘Very well,’ Laffon replied stiffly as he rose from the chair. ‘I wash my hands of you.’
He went to the cell door and hammered on it twice with his fist. The door was opened.
Outside stood a tall, muscular man wearing the traditional black garb and mask of the torturer’s trade.
Tanalvah shuddered.
‘What’s the matter?’ Serrah said.
‘A chill ran up my spine.’
‘Well, it is getting colder.’
‘It wasn’t that.’
They were sitting side by side on a horse blanket, bundled against the crisp air, on the crest of a hill.
‘You’re not in this alone, Tan; I do wish you’d understand that. We’re all here to support you.’
‘I know you are, and I’m grateful. But we can’t say the same about Kinsel, can we? I keep thinking of him, there alone, suffering who knows what kind of…’ She couldn’t go on.
Serrah tried to take her mind off it. ‘At least you have the children, and they’re safe.’ She nodded to where Teg and Lirrin romped with Kutch. Caldason stood a little further away, looking down at the city. It was coming to dusk, and the metropolis had begun to glow with magical energy. They would have to head back soon.
‘You’re right,’ Tanalvah conceded, ‘and I’m being selfish.’
‘How?’
‘I have the children. They’re mine now, and I love them as though they were my own. But you lost your only child, and you have no one. Forgive me being blunt. I hope bringing it up doesn’t grieve you too much.’
Serrah shook her head.
‘I only mention it,’ Tanalvah went on, ‘because you’re one of the few people who can understand how I feel. Tell me, were you haunted by how things might have turned out if you’d acted differently? Did you reproach yourself?’
‘Of course. Endlessly. I should think everyone does in that situation.’
‘Then you know how I feel. There were things I did wrong, and things I shouldn’t have done, and now Kinsel’s paying for it.’
‘The last thing you need is to blame yourself.’
‘You don’t know.’
‘Tell me,’ Serrah gently coaxed.
‘I can’t.’
Serrah had thought her friend was on the verge of opening up, but she didn’t try to push her. ‘All right. I’ll be around if you ever want to talk about it. But, Tan, what you mustn’t do is add guilt to your burden. Believe me, I know.’
Tanalvah nodded, but looked far from convinced.
Two small whirlwinds arrived, in the form of a pair of excited children. They wanted Tanalvah to join them, and pulled at her hands until she stood and went with them to Kutch.
Serrah watched them for a while, then Caldason strolled back and sat down beside her.
‘Look at them,’ she said. ‘I wish I could be like a child and block out the lousy things in life. How do they do it?’
‘I don’t know; it was never like that for me. But it’s a good thing they can. How is Tanalvah?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘It’s hard to form an opinion when she avoids talking to me.’
‘Don’t blame her for that. She’s just about hanging on, I’d say. And now she’s letting guilt get to her.’
‘What does she have to feel guilty about?’
‘Nothing, I’m sure. But she thinks she does.’
‘You didn’t tell her what Disgleirio said about wanting Kinsel killed?’
‘Of course not! What do you take me for?’
‘Sorry, I should have known you wouldn’t.’
‘It got me thinking about him though. Disgleirio, I mean. I find it hard to fathom the man. You think you know where he stands, then he comes out with something like that.’
‘Perhaps it’s not so surprising. The Fellowship of the Righteous Blade are zealots, in a way. They’re focused on their goal and tend to see anything in their path as something to be swept aside, no matter how ruthlessly.’
‘And that makes them unique, does it? I can think of at least one other person with a similar outlook.’
He had to smile. ‘I just stabbed myself in the foot, didn’t I?’
She smiled back. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s one of my specialities, too.’
‘The Blade’s a patriotic group. I reckon having to accept they’re not going to get their country back would be a bitter potion for a man like Quinn. Signing up for Karr’s dream of a new state must seem like second best.’
‘They’re monarchists, aren’t they?’
‘I imagine so. They’ve sworn allegiance to all the old institutions, so that must include the Crown.’
‘Doesn’t that make them Melyobar supporters?’
‘I suppose it does, in theory. You can see why they gave up on it and threw in their lot with Karr.’
That made them smile again.
She sobered. ‘He’s not looking any better, is he?’
‘Karr? No. He’s clearly exhausted, but there’s something else underneath it. An ailment.’
‘There’s a way you could lift some of the weight off his shoulders, you know.’
‘Let me guess. Delivering the gold?’
‘It does make sense, Reeth.’
‘He didn’t put you up to this, did he? Or any of the others?’
‘You know me better than that. I just happen to think it’s the right thing. Earlier on, I got talking to Tan about the move, and she said it had to go ahead, that it’s what Kinsel would have wanted. He’s given up everything for the cause, including his life, probably. It seems to me we should be willing to take the same risk.’
‘As a matter of fact, I’ve been thinking along similar lines.’
‘Whoa, that was too easy! I thought you’d need battering into it.’
‘No, I really have been thinking about it as something I could do. Though I’d much prefer it to be an expedition to the Clepsydra.’
‘Karr says delivering the gold brings us a step nearer to that. I believe him. The Resistance, and Covenant in particular, seem no less keen to find the Source.’
‘If I do go to the Diamond Isle, I’d like to have you along.’
‘No, I don’t think–’
‘Hear me out. You’re getting better, more stable, stronger in yourself. You’re not entirely right yet–’
‘Oh, don’t stint your words, please.’
‘But you were an asset to the band, and you could be again. I think we worked well together.’
‘Thanks. So do I. But I’m not sure the Council would sanction it. Besides, after what’s happened to Tan, I think I ought to be here.’
‘She’ll have plenty of people to look after her.’
‘Reeth…’ She looked over at Tanalvah to make sure she was out of earshot. ‘…I’m going to break a confidence. Tanalvah’s with child.’
‘Oh. Kinsel’s?’
‘Of course it is!’ She adopted an expression of mock disgust. ‘Men. So you see, if anything happened to him and I wasn’t here for her–’
‘I understand.’
‘Don’t tell anybody. I promised.’
‘But would you reconsider coming if Kinsel got out of the mess he’s in?’
‘If he were to do that…yes, perhaps I would. But let’s face it, Reeth. That would take a miracle, wouldn’t it?’
16
The citizens of Jecellam, capital of Rintarah’s extensive empire, lived ordered lives. Theirs was a culture where many everyday activities were centrally directed. Most people were reasonably
happy with this, unless they found themselves in conflict with the state’s will. Which was more easily done than the majority of them suspected.
As a result of being part of a rigidly controlled society, the average citizen expected to be housed, fed and protected by the state. They didn’t expect more than a nominal voice in how that state was run. They expected to be left to their own devices in the matter of accumulating wealth, property and magic, as long as they didn’t exceed the very strict limits imposed. They certainly never expected to have any contact with, or even a glimpse of, the elite that ran everything.
In the unlikely event of an ordinary person being allowed access to their rulers’ high-walled domain, they would encounter many things that seemed wondrous, even for a world drenched in enchantment.
One of the more modest spectacles was an impossible garden. It was unfeasible in two respects. First, it contained a profusion of flowers that simply shouldn’t have been blooming at such an intemperate time of year. Second, there were plants–exotic, beautiful, bizarre–unknown to the most knowledgeable of horticulturists. Another peculiarity of this acre of abundance was that it occupied a perfectly defined circular plot. Outside an apparently invisible line, everything was dormant or withered, as would be expected in this season. It was as though a totally transparent dome encased the entire growing area, and different weather conditions prevailed inside.
The garden was being tended by a tall, gangling old man. He had faultless skin and a copious head of hair, but both looked markedly unnatural. On his knees, trowel in hand, he appeared in his element. But woe betide anyone who mistook him for a menial. Despite his humble gardening clothes and the soil under his fingernails, he was by far the most powerful man in Rintarah.
He was Elder Felderth Jacinth, head of the empire’s ruling Central Council.
Not far from his garden stood one of the many flagpoles scattered about the grounds. The ensign it bore showed Rintarah’s emblem: an eagle with spread wings, framed by lightning bolts. An approaching figure glanced at the flag as he walked the path that wound to the improbable garden.
When he stepped through the imperceptible barrier he was met by a wave of warmth and exquisite perfume.
‘Good day, brother.’
The Righteous Blade Page 16
