As Dilrap tucked the thought away, an eye cracked open in the dusty face of the man leaning against the wall. Its partner joined it almost immediately. Neither showed any sign of a confused and unexpected awaken-ing and, momentarily, Dilrap found his own taunt returning to haunt him amp;mdashthieves and robbers?
In the heightened awareness of his intense fatigue, Dilrap felt the man take in his total surroundings with a flicker of pretended bewilderment. Then the second man was awake, and both were standing. Again they showed no sign of fatigue. Dilrap stepped back uneasily. His first question was to have been, ‘Who are you?’ but instead he said, ‘I’m sorry I woke you, gentlemen. Settle down again if you can, it’s still a couple of hours to daybreak and you look as if you need the rest.’
Without speaking, but with a friendly nod, one of the men, yawning and scratching, walked into the junction of the corridors that Dilrap had just come round. He looked casually from left to right, then turning, he glanced significantly at his companion. Dilrap found his alarm mounting though neither of the men seemed to offer any particular menace.
Before he could clear his thoughts, the first man spoke. ‘Honoured Secretary, we must speak to you urgently.’
Dilrap was flustered. ‘If it’s about working parties… ’ he began, gesticulating vaguely in the direction he had just come. The man shook his head and, taking Dilrap’s arm, gently ushered him towards his room. He spoke again, softly and calmly, but very clearly and urgently. ‘Honoured Secretary, we’re Goraidin in the service of Lord Eldric. We know you’re to be trusted and we need your help.’
Despite himself, Dilrap twitched and hitched up his gown, his fatigue and the shock of the man’s words making him feel disorientated. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘What are you talking about?’
There was a brief flash of impatience in the man’s eyes, and the grip on Dilrap’s arm became more urgent. ‘Honoured Secretary. We’ve no time for niceties. Suffice it to say that we were with the group that released Lord Eldric and the others from the Westerclave and got them to Lord Eldric’s estate. It was the Queen herself who told our commander that you’d been her great support and were to be trusted.’ Dilrap’s mouth went dry. This was a trap! He had been betrayed! But no sooner had the thoughts occurred than he dismissed them. Neither Dan-Tor nor Urssain would now need to use such subtle tactics to expose his help to the Queen and the Lords.
They reached the door to his rooms and, opening it, he ushered the two men in. ‘What are you doing here?’ he said as he closed the door and gently threw the bolt. ‘Who’s sent you? What do you want?’ Then, as one of them started silently opening the other doors in the room, and peering through them, he added, ‘There’s no one else here.’
The man nodded and completed his search.
The first waker looked at Dilrap searchingly, causing him to remember that one of the functions of the Goraidin was the assassination of the enemy’s senior officers. Again however, he dismissed the thought. What would killing him gain for anyone? Certainly nothing that valuable soldiers such as the Goraidin would be risked for. No, these were brave men, and in need. They were no threat to him and he must help them if he could.
Another sinister memory came to him, and he waved his hand anxiously as if to erase his questions. ‘No, no. Don’t tell me anything about yourselves,’ he said. ‘I won’t be able to keep any secrets from the creature that Dan-Tor has become if he seeks to look for them.’
The two Goraidin exchanged glances; the remark both surprised and impressed them. ‘Very well,’ said the first. ‘No names, nor any reasons why we came here originally, but now, after what’s happened, we have to get everyone away while we can.’
‘Everyone?’ Dilrap interrupted.
‘The King, the Queen, the Lord Eldric. Perhaps his son, perhaps you,’ said the Goraidin without pause.
Dilrap put his hand to his head. This was the second time these people had struck into the very heart of Dan-Tor’s domain to do him hurt. They were like water running through a mailed fist. There was so much hope in such people and such deeds. Another small inspira-tion to help him through darker days.
‘Events are moving too quickly for you, Goraidin,’ he said sadly, then briefly he told them the events of the day, his voice relentless and matter-of-fact to prevent their interrupting and to cover his own emotions. ‘You’ve done all you can do here,’ he concluded. ‘Take this news back to the Lords, and delay for nothing.’
As the tale unfolded, the men became increasingly agitated although they remained silent. When it was finished however, one of them burst out, ‘It can’t be true.’
Dilrap rounded on him angrily before he could continue. The reliving of the day had harrowed him. ‘Take the message, Goraidin,’ he said, glaring at his doubter. ‘Let others judge its worth. I saw what I saw. Why should I lie about such things? What was Dan-Tor is now Oklar, the worst of Sumeral’s Uhriel. Our King rose up whole and sound to oppose him, and was cut down for his pains.’ His face distorted as the emotion of the events started to overcome his fatigue. ‘Damn you both. I’m frightened enough as it is without having to argue with those I’m trying to help. The man is Oklar. I know it’s against all reason. I know these are children’s tales, but our King named him in his death throes, and I’ve looked into his eyes.’ He struck his chest in emphasis then, angry again, he pointed in the general direction of the destruction at the front of the Palace. ‘And could a man have done such a thing to our city?’
One of the Goraidin laid a hand gently on his shoul-der. ‘We don’t doubt you, Honoured Secretary,’ he said. ‘Other things have happened elsewhere that confirm what you say. It’s just that your news was a shock amp;mdasha terrible shock. We understand what you say and we’ll carry your message faithfully, don’t worry about that. Just tell me what the King said again. It made no sense.’
Dilrap repeated the King’s last words.
‘Nothing shall end the reign of your Master?’ said the Goraidin, echoing Dilrap’s words and shaking his head. ‘That’s a grim prophecy for us all if it was some vision of the future. What did he mean?’
Dilrap shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘He did say his words weren’t what they seemed. And there was no despair in his voice. Just a kind of… bitter… dark amusement. And he was laughing even as he died, and that creature was powerless under his gaze… it couldn’t move.’ He frowned. ‘It’s beyond me. I’ve told you, leave it to others. Just tell the tale as I’ve told you. Tell everything as I’ve told you. Now go while you can.’
His tone was final and the men were still for a mo-ment, uncertain. Then they moved to the door.
‘Shall we take you with us?’ said the first man, turn-ing back to Dilrap.
‘No,’ said the Secretary shaking his head slowly. ‘I promised the King I’d stay. I can do more here than anywhere else. Besides, this is all I know. Find me again when you need me. I’ll do what harm I can here and I’ll tell you whatever I learn.’ Then, looking into the man’s eyes, ‘But tell me nothing that would endanger others if you can avoid it. I don’t know how much time I have.’
Distress showed on the Goraidin’s face. Dilrap looked at him. ‘Tell the Queen about Rgoric gently,’ he said. ‘And tell her her husband died his true self. Quite free of his old foe, and fighting him to the end. Mocking him, in fact.’
Then the Goraidin were gone and Dilrap was alone in the silence of his room. Fatigue closed in on him again to damp down the exhilaration that he felt at this contact with the forces who would oppose Dan-Tor.
Turning, he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror and shied away from the sight. Though no lover of his own image at the best of times, the bleary-eyed vision that he had glimpsed seemed to be an unnecessarily cruel caricature and he shook his head in a momentary surge of self-pity. His robe slipped awkwardly from his shoulder and resignedly he hitched it up.
‘Shall I do something with that robe of yours, Dil-rap?’ Alaynor had said to him, only a few hours previously when a hasty gesture on his part had swept a table clear of plans and papers. The remark had been made quietly and gently and was sincerely meant. At the time, he had fobbed it off with a friendly gesture. Now it seemed to be more significant for some reason. He slipped his robe off and, holding it at arm’s length, examined it critically. It was a traditional garment and wholly inappropriate for his portly figure, indeed it had been the bane of his life since he came to office. However, to continue to wear it would be to show that threads of the old ways persisted while still showing him to be the same old harmless Dilrap. But would that serve his needs? The threads of the old ways would surely be ruthlessly cut as time passed, and would there be a place for harmless ditherers in the New Order? Probably not, he decided. Chillingly, he realized that part of his worth in the future would lie in the assessment of how troublesome and inconvenient his removal would be.