One spearpoint was resting against Dri's throat. Steldak gripped it furiously. 'All this was decided,' he said.
With a trembling sigh, Hercol lowered his hand to the floor. 'Her obedience is not mine to give, Lord Taliktrum,' he said. 'I would give it, and anything else you asked of me. Here is your servant. I shall be another, if you will have me. Give me a razor; I will shave my head. Teach me your oaths and I will take them. Only spare her, spare her, my lord.'
He opened his hand, and Ludunte sprang free, astonished. But his amazement was nothing compared to Taliktrum's. The young man's lips were slightly parted; words formed on them, only to vanish unspoken. He looked suddenly at Diadrelu, standing quiet and thoughtful in his trap, neither resigned nor hopeful, merely aware.
'Aunt,' he said, and there was a plea in his voice, as if he were the one who was trapped.
Then Steldak made a furious sound, and jerked the spear. Diadrelu gave a small, clipped cry. She put her hand on her neck. The blood leaped through her fingers, a red bird escaping, a secret no one could keep. Her eyes slid upwards, searching for Hercol, but the light went out of them before they reached his face.
37
Grotesqueries of Change
A hidden deformity,
A sore of the mind,
A wound in a world once blessed,
A chosen tumour,
A heart betrayed,
A stone whose touch is death.
The blind mote in the soul's good eye,
The slave who sells others tomorrow,
The joyless triumph,
The prayer that lies,
The lesson you learn to your sorrow.
'Hate'
9 Umbrin 941
'You're fast, girl,' said Sandor Ott. 'Almost fast enough, had you guessed that the danger lay behind as well as before you. Don't struggle, now, and for pity's sake don't try any of Hercol's tricks. Remember he learned most of them from me.'
Only now did Pazel realise what he'd sensed in the room: not a difference but a sameness that should have warned him. The room should have felt emptier; instead it was as crowded as before. Rose was seated; it was his boot on Pazel's chest. Dastu, holding a fengas lamp, stood to the captain's right. Sergeant Haddismal and another Turach were in the room as well. The sergeant had a thrusting dagger fitted over the knuckles of his right hand. The blade was red to the hilt.
Behind the Turachs sat a row of bound men. Four had their faces concealed by leather hoods; the fifth, Lieutenant Khalmet, was slumped sideways against the wall, mouth open, blood darkening his chest.
Haddismal glared down at Pazel. 'I'll cut off your ears if you so much as sigh for that dung-eating dog! Khalmet swore to live and die for Magad the Fifth. There hasn't been such an oath-breaking in the history of the Turachs. A stab through the heart was a mercy he never deserved — and he knew it, the coward, he all but lunged on my blade. The rest of you won't be so lucky.'
Despite the hoods, Pazel recognised the others. Fiffengurt was still in the shirt he'd worn to the council meeting; he hadn't even rolled down his sleeves. Pazel spotted Druffle by his gauntness, Big Skip by his size, Bolutu by his monk's cloak and the blackness of his neck below the hood. The men's hands were tied very firmly behind their backs. All four were trembling.
'Pazel Pathkendle,' said Dastu, almost sadly, 'you never should have let old Chadfallow mix you up in all this. I hear you had a fine arrangement on the Eniel, and were halfway to citzenship.'
Pazel looked at him, and could not even feel the hate he expected. He was numb to any sensation but a kind of appalled disappointment. 'Why?' he said.
'You should be asking why not,' said Dastu. 'You never knew me, of course. You knew my second self — the one I'm done with at last, I think, Master?'
'Yes, lad, you're done with it,' said Ott. 'You've passed the exam with rare distinction.' He caught Pazel's eye, and gave a hideous grin. 'What do you say, Pathkendle? Top marks for Dastu? Certainly he had you believing in him. The good tarboy, the one without cunning or prejudice or vice, the one nobody could hate.' Ott looked appreciatively at Dastu, who basked in the praise. 'Six years he's been refining the part. Fiffengurt wanted to make him a midshipman; he saw officer material there. I think the truth hurt more than the blows.'
Rose withdrew his sword, and his boot. 'Stand up, Pathkendle. Ott, you will release the girl's hair. She knows better than to fight you.'
Ott slid his hand from Thasha's hair to her shoulder. 'There are a dozen Turachs behind me in the passage,' he said, his lips almost touching her ear.
Pazel got to his feet, still aching from the blow to his stomach. 'Dastu, how can you be with them?' he said, still incredulous in his shock. 'You were at the council. You know what they're doing is insane. You know that Arqual can't win another war — that nobody can, except Arunis.'
'I know you cannot face the truth,' said Dastu, 'but that doesn't surprise me. How could you be expected to embrace Arqual's coming supremacy? You lost your mother and sister in the Rescue of Chereste. You're an Ormali, with an Ormali's small, stay-at-home mind. I understand these things. But the world is large and cruel, Pazel. It needs Arqual more than ever.'
'That's not you talking,' said Pazel. 'That's just something they told you.'
'Something real,' said Dastu.
'I guess believing that is part of the exam, too,' said Thasha.
Dastu turned her a look that made the hair stand up on the back of Pazel's neck. But Sandor Ott just laughed. 'Yes, he said. 'An essential part — and the only part your tutor failed, Thasha Isiq. Hercol called it freedom of thought, but in fact his freedom began to bleed away the moment he left the Secret Fist. Was he free when he lived like a hunted thing in the Tsordons? Was he free when his lands were seized, his sister and her family beggared, his ancestral home in Tholjassa burned to the ground?'
Thasha twisted in his grasp. 'You!' she spat. 'Did you do those things to him?'
'He did them to himself, lass,' whispered Ott, pressing his lips even closer. 'And where is he now? In a cage, at the end of a wasted life. All for a withered old woman named Maisa — a cause as hopeless as petitioning the sun to rise in the west. Dastu, I'm glad to say, shows no such taste for lost causes.'
'You put it best, Master,' said Dastu. 'Arqual is the future of Alifros. In time we will need just one name, for world and Empire alike.'
'Boy,' said Rose, 'you've served your purpose well, but I don't give a damn for your Imperial platitudes. Fawn on your master elsewhere; for now concentrate on the task. Nine mutineers you spoke of; only seven have you produced.'
'Captain,' said Dastu, 'I fear I played the part too well. Undrabust and the stowaway girl meant to come, but I protested, the better to assure they'd not suspect I wanted-'
'Go and find them,' Rose interrupted. 'If they are still behind the magic wall, lure them out. Tell them their friends are in need; tell them whatever occurs to you. Haddismal, send a man along with him. I want the stateroom emptied once and for all.'
Dastu smiled. 'I have an idea already, Captain.' He looked to Ott, received a nod from the spymaster. Then he handed the fengas lamp to another Turach, and slipped out of the room with Haddismal's lieutenant.
Rose turned a stern and formal look on the captives before him, and pointed his sword at each in turn. 'Pazel Pathkendle. Thasha Isiq. As Captain and Final Offshore Authority of the IMS Chathrand, I hereby charge you with the crime of mutiny. The crime was both premeditated and sustained. You have held council with the aim of planning the seizure of this ship. You have recruited others to your cause. You have already assumed control of the admiralty-level stateroom, and held it by magical means, creating a space beyond the reach of shipboard justice. You have taken oaths to persevere in this crime as far as it leads — even to the destruction of this vessel, and the death of its entire crew.'