I had seen with my own eyes what one of these creatures from hell could do. It had torn people to pieces and thrown them around like confetti. Where a nice young lad had just been standing in his white robe, now a completely insane ibmanzy threw itself against the steel bars of its cage driven by the desire for destruction.
The gathering was speechless. What they had expected, only Opaz knows. What they got was a destructive, completely insane power from the depths of hell.
I wanted to get away, and fast. I knew what it would look like at the end of this experiment. It would not surprise me if the crazy monster had enough strength to break his cage, even if the steel came from Zenicce or Hamal.
If it should succeed, before it grew out of this body and the ribs burst through the skin and the eyeballs bulged from the skull, it would kill all of the priestesses and priests in the red robes.
But in any event this ibmanzy would end miserably as the ruined body of the young man who had volunteered himself so enthusiastically for this terrible experiment.
I had seen everything there was to see in this chamber of outrage. I picked up the red robe from the man on the ground, pulled it over my head and tore the material — it was too small for me. The couple were waking up; I cut through their bonds and hurried off.
The fresh, rain-soaked air on the street was a true blessing. The temple of Dokerty had been a cesspit! Before I could return to the palace, I had to perform a rite. The pakais of silver rings had to be removed from the two mortpaktuns, who lay lifeless in the shadows. This I did, but then hesitated. The lovers would report what had happened to them. They would find the three thugs. Now there was no way to hide my intrusion.
I could only hope that Indrin did not connect this incident with me.
The falling rain, the slanting pink light and the gloss of wet cobblestones created an appropriate, solemn backdrop for my return journey. The red robe had served its purpose, and I threw it away. Rather than using the normal palace entrance, I first explored the area where Indrin’s three cutthroats would have had their lookout post.
So I strolled around the corner and used another entrance.
There were so many new developments that I had to reconsider my situation once I was alone. Quensella must continue to be protected. It was necessary to get to know Prince Ortyg’s plans and to seek out the traitors within Quensella’s retinue, and to bring the affair once and for all to a close. With these intentions in mind, I checked all the guards and then went to bed to sleep for a few burs.
The morning brought a bright and colorful light over Kregen. The twin suns burned in a cloudless sky. Zim and Genodras, the suns of Scorpio, sent their commingled jade green and ruby red beams to shed light into every corner and illuminate every roof. The city sparkled in the light of the suns.
And I, Dray Prescot, was on my feet and off to my work in this radiant light.
Yes, of course, there was no question at all of simply questioning Quensella’s servants one after another and demanding answers. A hearing could not possibly stay secret. In my solemnly promised determination to find the guilty party, I had stumbled upon a leems-nest. How would the lady react if I told her? Would she panic and throw everyone into the dungeon, to the lowest scullion? There had been no opportunity to consider this earlier, although I was convinced that she was too stable to react in that way.
Tsleetha-tsleethi, as they say, softly-softly. I thought of my hasty conclusions from the previous day, then looked at the reality of the situation. I decided for now to simply reinforce the guard. Quensella would need to be told everything, but at the right time and in the right place.
Later that day she ordered her cadade to attend her. What she had to tell me was, to my ears, like rain in the desert.
“The Regent has asked me to accompany her to a meeting with Prince Ortyg of Tolindrin. Find four of your best men.”
I uttered such a delighted “Quidang!” that she gave me a surprised look.
It was her nature to rarely refer to Chermina by her name or to call her sister; to her it was almost invariably “The Regent”.
The four guards were: Hikdar Molar Na-Fre, Pachak; Deldar Como the Hump, Hytak; Jurukker Perempto the Shorn, Khibil; and Jurukker Erwin the Waggler, Apim.
She took one of her servants, the girl who was in charge of the others. She had brown hair, chiseled facial features, was plump and wore an inconspicuous blue dress. Quensella allowed her to wear decorations on the collar and hem, and Finzy the Oracular — that was her name — was wearing a necklace of semiprecious stones.
I admit, I examined her more closely than normal. Suppose she was the viper in our nest?
This serious problem had to wait until I had observed the noble young prince of Tolindrin. Our party marched off and took Quensella to her meeting. Finzy accompanied her into the inner sanctum; I did not. Quensella gave the command to wait outside until her return. At least she took seriously the threat of attack, even in the palace. Five capable lads should be sufficient to deal with assassins.
Should be sufficient... “Molar, I am going to get a few more men,” I said to the Pachak Hikdar. “Watch out for these three.”
He nodded, slightly amused. We stood before a door that was excessively decorated, but fitted in with the general picture. The guards of the Regent stood stiffly to attention on either side of the door. They wore foppish, foolish-looking uniforms, held long spears and were incredibly bored with their service. Nevertheless, they made a quite competent impression and undoubtedly had freshly sharpened swords.
I strutted about with the arrogance of a captain of the guard and examined this area of the palace very closely. I found two entrances to the secret passageways, and there were undoubtedly others that were better hidden. I arrived back in our guardhouse, ordered five other jurukkers to reinforce the other group, and after I had handed them into the care of the Pachak Hikdar, I came to the conclusion that I had both the inner and the outer floor plans clearly in my head.
I have to admit that it occurred to me that these admirably fitted out guards would be of little use if one of these hell demons, an insane ibmanzy, awoke here to life — this idea was an unpleasant reminder of the other, much more extensive deviltry that existed in addition to this secret meeting.
I chose to access the passageway between the walls through a door hidden in the recess between two pillars. After a long, searching look and two failed attempts, I found the movable base of the third chubby angel opened the narrow door. I slipped inside, and the door fell back into the wall behind me. As expected, the darkness was relieved by the usual slits and openwork reliefs. Cobwebs and dust were a clear indication that this narrow corridor was rarely used. I flitted quietly to the chamber where the secret meeting was taking place.
Now, as they say in Clishdrin, as a man wants, so Zair provides. I was quite close to my goal when a sneeze sounded so loud it was like a double charge of powder and grapeshot loaded into a twelve-pounder. I froze immediately.
I could see him only with difficulty. He was no more than a shadow standing motionless before a pretty ornamented spy hole and moved only his head. His sneeze had resounded along the secret passage; he would know from experience that it would not have been heard in the conference chamber.
The passageway that lay between us was full of debris, dust, and cobwebs that hung gracefully from the low ceiling. I had no chance to reach him without being spotted, no matter how quietly I moved. I would not know him — he probably belonged to Chermina’s bodyguard — but he would recognize Lady Quensella’s cadade, guaranteed.
I was furious. By the disgusting diseased liver and lights of Makki Grodno! I could not kill him. He was a comrade, a human being, a man who was only doing his duty. Killing him would have contradicted everything that makes Kregen so unlike Earth.
Chermina, the regent, took her security more seriously than the lady Quensella. That was certain. In the secret passageways between the walls of her apartments would be guard posts; by Krun, they could be teeming with them!
So much for my grandiose plans!
I examined his position again and came to the unfortunate conclusion that it would not be possible for me to overpower him and render him unconscious without him seeing his attacker.
By the mighty breasts and protruding buttocks of the Divine Lady of Belschutz! I was in a very ungracious mood. To hell with everything!
My nose itched. I blinked. Suddenly, my nose seemed to be on fire. No twelve-pounder would shake the dusty corridor — oh no, by Vox! — but a damned thirty-two pounder would detonate so loud that it would be heard in the kitchen area and the attic rooms of the servants.
By Krun, what an intolerable situation!
I, Dray Prescot, spun around soundlessly, pinched my irritated about to erupt nostrils together — and fled.