It is my will that you return to our people as soon as you receive this, my last words. Please visit my grave and pray to Allfather Dralm over my bones. May the dead of Hos-Hostigos and my own soldiers forgive me!
Yours in sorrow,
Great King of Hos-Ktemnos, Cleitharses I
Anaxthenes all but hissed out the final words. "Does this mean that Anaxon is a follower of False Dralm, too?"
"I believe so, Your Divinity," Danthor said, knowing that his words were a death sentence for the young prince. "I expected that it contained words fit only for your eyes and ears."
"We cannot allow such a thing to reach the Prince. Is that agreed?"
"Of course, Your Divinity."
"Danthor, you have done me a great service by bringing this letter to my person. You shall be rewarded with a land grant of ten square marches and a thousand ounces of gold."
"Thank you, Your Divinity! I had expected no such reward."
"You have done Styphon's House a great favor by bringing this to Our attention."
Danthor bowed his head in respect. He felt dirtied by this deed, but knew that it was necessary to keep his cover as an avaricious Archpriest. Besides, Prince Anaxon's fate was sealed long before this letter. He had openly thwarted Styphon's House and by that act Anaxon had doomed himself.
"Now, we need to discuss what to do with this letter," Anaxthenes said. "How are you at forgery?"
Danthor smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "I have been found out."
Anaxthenes laughed. "It is a useful skill, Danthor. I see now that you have many. I will dictate you another missive from our soon to be departed Great King and you will see that these words are copied in Cleitharses' scribe's hand and that it is delivered to his messenger."
"Your Divinity, why not just make the letter disappear? Once the Prince learns of his uncle's death he may return whether requested, or not."
"True. Your words have weight. However, we do not need the Prince to muddy our waters in Hos-Ktemnos. Draft a letter to Grand Commander Aristocles. I want you to tell him to ensure that the Prince dies of an unfortunate accident, or in battle. It must happen soon and before word reaches Anaxon's ears about King Cleitharses' illness. In Styphon's Code, of course."
"Yes, Your Divinity."
"As Archivist, you do know the Code."
"I do, Your Divinity. When do you want it sent."
"Immediately. I want you to write it for me now. While you're writing, I'll have Archpriest Heraclestros find a messenger and the usual guards. We don't want to make this message appear out of the ordinary. Aristocles will know what to do. It's actually fortunate that Grand Master Soton is not with the Host; he would balk at such an order."
It was unfortunate, but there was no way Danthor could cancel the message, or see that a copy was given to Anaxon. No one outside of Styphon's House knew Styphon's Code, although it was a simple substitution cipher that could easily be deciphered by hand. It would be too suspicious if outsiders serendipitously captured the messenger and just happened to be able to decipher the message, too. Unfortunately, he didn't have time to return to the Balph Kalvan Study Team HQ and contact Chief Verkan Vail for his advice.
"We have Our own candidate for Great King of Hos-Ktemnos," Styphon's Voice said. "Cleitharses' younger cousin on his father's side is a gambler and owes Styphon's House everything but his eyeballs. Duke Lukthos will be a most agreeable ruler, don't you think?"
They both laughed.
TWENTY-THREE
Sirna waited nervously outside Prince Phidestros' private audience chamber for Aranth Sain, known here as Ranthos, to leave. For not the first time, she wished that she didn't have an aversion to tobacco. That pipe smoking ritual that everyone had on Aryan-Transpacific was great for passing time or giving dramatic pauses. At the moment, she could use something to help pass the time.
Sirna was still pacing back and forth when Aranth, wearing a lead-streaked back-and-breast, exited the chamber. If she hadn't known that it was Aranth, she might not have recognized him with his head bald. "Hello, friend."
His head turned and the moment he saw her, his face turned as white as one of the Investigator's robes. "Sirna! Danar Sirna? Is that really you?"
"Yes, it is. Although a little worse for wear after being left behind by a certain 'friend' at the Foundry to be manhandled by Roxthar's thugs." By the end, her voice was approaching a scream.
"By Xappha's Mandibles, it is you. You're alive! Come here," he said, reverting to First Level speech so that they couldn't be understood if overheard, "let us find a more private meeting room. I'm very sorry that I didn't look for you, but I thought everyone was already dead or trapped when the upper floor collapsed. Damn glad you made it, by Galzar!"
"Yes, it's me, Aranth, or should I be calling you Ranthos?"
"Ranthos in public, in private whatever you want."
Sirna muttered a string of curses calling forth all the demons of Second Level, Khiftan Sector, as she led him to a wing of the palace that was still under renovation. It was deserted so she lit a taper for illumination. Running out of breath, she ended with, "Yes, I survived with no help from you or the rest of the Team."
"I'm so relieved. How is the rest of the Hostigos Kalvan Study Team?"
"All dead as far as I know. There was no time for anyone to evacuate."
"The Red Hand of Styphon was at the door," Aranth said sheepishly. "After the floor gave way, I just snuck out a back window before I was picked up for Investigation. I heard a woman scream and some shots. I thought everyone was dead or captured."
"That was Lala… she tried to reason with the Styphoni. They reasoned her into the next incarnation. One or two of the Team were taken prisoner-I'm certain they perished." She shuddered. "What are you doing here and why haven't you joined up with the Harphax Kalvan Study Team?"
"First, I work for your boss, Phidestros. Secondly, it wasn't that easy getting out of Hostigos, not with the Investigation under way. Besides, I like Aryan-Transpacific and decided to take an outtime sabbatical. I knew Dralm-damned well that if I reported in I'd be slammed onto the first conveyer going back to Home Time Line."
"For dereliction of duty, perhaps," she said snidely, knowing it was beneath her. But, Dralm-damnit, he was my friend and he left me to die.
"Don't go all Paratime Police on me, Sirna. I don't see you reporting to the Harphaxi Depot."
She felt her face burn. "I didn't have an opportunity to report in."
"Look, I said I was sorry. If you're some sort of prisoner here, I'll even help you escape. Will that be penance enough for my speedy exit?" He looked as contrite as a little boy; or as much like one as a soldier, with a walrus mustache and a body built like it was made out of barrel staves, could approximate.
She laughed. "You always did know how to press my buttons. And, no, I'm not a prisoner here. Nor do I want to go back to First Level any more than you do. As the only undergraduate, I was always the odd person out on the Hostigos Kalvan Study Team. If I go back to Dhergabar University now, they'll never let me go outtime again."
Aranth nodded. "If you survive the debriefing, you mean. Even if they don't blame you for the disaster our teammates made, you'll be under suspicion for the rest of your tenure at the University. You'll always be known as the 'Girl Who Bugged Out.'"