The Hidden City
A slow look of comprehension began to dawn on Ghnomb’s brutish face. ‘Why did you not say this before, Ulath-from-Thalesia?’
Ulath groped for an answer.
‘It was Bhlokw who found that we have mind-bellies,’ Tynian stepped in. ‘We did not know this. We only knew that our minds were hungry. It is good that Ghworg sent Bhlokw to hunt with us. Bhlokw is a very good hunter.’
Bhlokw beamed.
Ulath quickly expanded the metaphor. ‘Our mind-bellies hunger for thoughts about the wicked ones,’ he explained. ‘We can track those thoughts in the bird-noises the man-things make when they speak. We will stand on one side of the broken moment where they can not see us, and listen to the bird-noises they are making. We will follow those tracks to the ones we hunt, and they will not know we are there. Then we will listen to the bird-noises they make and learn where they have hidden Anakha’s mate.’
‘You hunt well,’ Ghnomb approved. I had not thought of this kind of hunting before. It is almost as good as hunting things-to-eat. I will help you in your hunt.’
‘It makes us glad that you will,’ Tynian thanked him.
Arjun was the capital of the Kingdom of Arjuna, a substantial city on the south shore of the lake. The royal palace and the stately homes of the noble families of the kingdom lay in the hills on the southern edge of town, and the commercial center was near the lake-front.
Ulath and Tynian concealed their horses and proceeded on foot through the grey half-light of Ghnomb’s broken moments into the city itself. Then they split up and began to search for the food their mind-bellies craved, while Bhlokw went looking for dogs.
It was almost evening when Ulath came out of another of the seedy taverns near the docks on the east side of town. ‘This is going to take all month,’ he muttered to himself. The name Scarpa had cropped up in a few of the conversations he had overheard, and each time he heard it, he had eagerly drawn closer to listen. Unfortunately, however, Scarpa and his army were general topics of conversation here, and Ulath had not been able to pick up anything that was at all useful.
‘Get out of my way!’ The voice was harsh, peremptory. Ulath turned to see who was being so offensive.
The man was a richly dressed Dacite. He was riding a spirited black horse, and his face bore the marks of habitual dissipation.
Though he had never seen the fellow before, Ulath recognized him immediately. Talen’s pencil had captured that face almost perfectly. Ulath smiled. ‘Well, now,’ he murmured, ‘that’s a little better.’ He stepped out into the street and followed the prancing black horse.
Their destination was one of the grand houses near the royal palace. A liveried servant rushed from the house to greet the sneering Elene. ‘We’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival, my Lord,’ he declared, bowing obsequiously.
‘Get somebody to take care of my horse,’ the Elene snapped as he dismounted. ‘Is everybody here?’
‘Yes, Baron Parok.’
‘Astonishing. Don’t just stand there, fool. Take me to them at once.’
‘Yes, my Lord Baron.’
Ulath smiled again and followed them into the house.
The room to which the servant led them appeared to be a study of some kind. The walls were lined with book-cases, though the books shelved there showed no signs of ever having been opened. There were about a dozen men in the room: some Elene, some Arjuni, and even one Styric.
‘Let’s get down to business,’ Baron Parok told them, negligently tossing his plumed hat and his gloves down on the table. ‘What have you to report?’
‘Prince Sparhawk has reached Tiana, Baron Parok,’ the lone Styric told him.
‘We expected that.’
‘We did not, however, expect his treatment of my kinsman. He and that brute he calls his squire followed our messenger and assaulted him. They tore off all his clothes and turned all his pockets inside out.’
Parok laughed harshly. ‘I’ve met your cousin, Zorek,’ he said. ‘I’m sure he richly deserved it. What did he say to the Prince to merit such treatment?’
‘He gave them the note, my Lord, and that ruffian of a squire made some insulting remark about a twenty-day journey on horseback. My cousin took offense at that and told them that they only had fourteen days to make the journey.’
‘That was not in the instructions,’ Parok snapped. ‘Did Sparhawk kill him?’
‘No, my lord,’ Zorek’s tone was sullen.
‘Pity,’ Parok said darkly. ‘Now I’ll have to attend to it myself. You Styrics get above yourselves at times. When I have leisure, I’m going to run your cousin down and hang his guts on a fence as an example to the rest of you. You’re being paid to do as you’re told, not to get creative.’ He looked around. ‘Who’s got the next note?’ he asked.
‘I have, my Lord,’ a rather prosperous-looking Edom-ishman replied.
‘You’d better hold off on delivering it. Zorek’s cousin upset our timetable with his excursion into constructive creativity. Let Sparhawk cool his heels here for a week or so. Then give him the note that tells him to go on to Derel. Lord Scarpa wants his army to start moving north before we give Sparhawk that last message – the one that tells him to go on to Natayos for the exchange.’
‘Baron Parok,’ a baggy-eyed Arjuni in a brocade doublet said arrogantly, ‘this delay – particularly here in the capital – poses some threat to my king. This Sparhawk person is notoriously irrational, and he does still have the jewel of power in his possession. His Majesty does not want that Elene barbarian lingering here in Arjun with spare time on his hands. Send him on to Derel immediately. If he’s going to destroy some place, let it be Derel instead of Arjun.’
‘You have amazingly sharp ears, Duke Milanis,’ Parok said sardonically. ‘Can you really hear what King Rakya is saying when you’re a mile from the palace?’
‘I’m here to protect His Majesty’s interests, Baron. I have full authority to speak for him. His Majesty’s alliance with Lord Scarpa is not etched on a diamond. Keep Prince Sparhawk moving. We don’t want him here in Arjun.’
‘And if I don’t?’
Milanis shrugged. ‘His Majesty will abrogate the alliance and make a full report of what you people have been doing – and what you’re planning to do – to the Tamul Ambassador.’
‘I see that the old saw about the stupidity of trusting an Arjuni still holds true.’