Through the mirk moved the grotesque shapes, taking no heed of each other. When one found the window of his choice unshuttered, he hung a white flower on the hasp, that no one else should enter; then climbing through the window he displayed himself to the silent occupant of the room - an avatar of the demon Kro.
At Benbuphar Strang, lights were extinguished, doors bolted, windows shuttered and barred as everywhere else. In the servants quarters, some made preparations; others composed themselves to uneasy slumber. In the towers, other folk performed their own arrangements. Efraim, armed with his small pistol, bolted shutters, barred and bolted doors, searched his quarters. He checked the security of the door blocking ingress from the Sacarlatto and also that passage to the second level of Jaher Tower.
He then returned to the parlor where he threw himself into a great scarlet leather chair, poured himself a goblet of wine, and sat in gloomy meditation.
He reviewed his time on Marune and tried to assess his progress. His memory was still gone, his enemy as yet unknown. Time passed. Faces floated before his.
eyes. One face returned and would not depart - a pale fragile face with lustrous eyes. She had as much as assured him that her door would not be bolted. He jumped to his feet and paced back and forth. A hundred yards away she waited.
Efraim stopped short and considered. No harm could come by making a trial. He need only climb to the second level of Jaher Tower, inspect the corridor; then, if all were clear, stride fifty feet to her door. Should the door be locked, he could return the way he had come. Should the door be open, Sthelany expected him.
The mask? The boots? No, they were foreign to him; he would enter Sthelany's chamber as himself.
He climbed the steps of the shortcut and came to the exit panel. He slid aside the peephole, searched the corridor. Empty.
He opened the door and listened. Silence. A faint sound? He listened with even greater intensity. The sound might have been the blood rushing through his heart.
With stealth and care he opened the door a foot, two feet. He slipped out into the hall, feeling suddenly exposed and vulnerable. No one in sight; no sound.
With racing pulse he ran to Sthelany's door. He listened. No sound. He inspected the door: six panels of heavy carved oak; three iron hinges, a heavy iron latch.
So now. He reached for the latch...
A sound within, a scraping as of metal. Efraim backed away and stood looking at the door. It seemed to look back at him.
Efraim moved further from the door, confused, uncertain. He retreated to the passage, closed and bolted the door, returned to his chambers.
He sank into the red leather chair and thought for five minutes. Once again he rose to his feet and, unbarring the main portal, went out into the foyer. In a storage closet he found a length of rope which he took back to his chamber, and again locked the door.
He brought out the chart of the mirk-ways and studied it for a few minutes. He then went up to the Sacarlatto, and so made his way to the unoccupied chamber directly above that of Sthelany.
He went out onto the balcony, made the rope fast, and tied a series of knots along its length, to serve as handholds and footrests. Cautiously he lowered the rope so that it hung down to Sthelany's balcony.
He descended with great care, and presently stood on the balcony. Shutters covered the glass, but a glow of light issued through a crack. Efraim pressed his eye close and peered into the room.
Sthelany sat beside a table in her usual garments. By the light of a candle she played with a toy puzzle. Beside the door stood two men in black pantaloons and man-masks. One carried a mace, the other a dagger. Behind the door, over the back of a chair, hung a large black sack. The man with the mace pressed his ear to the door. By his posture, by the stoop of his shoulders and long powerful arms, Efraim recognized Agnois, the First Chamberlain. The man with the dagger was Destian. Sthelany glanced at them, gave a slight shrug, and returned to her puzzle.
Efraim felt dizzy. He leaned on the balcony and looked off into the darkness.
His stomach convulsed; he barely prevented himself from vomiting.
He did not look again into the room. With flaccid muscles he pulled himself back to the upper balcony. He hauled up the rope, coiled it, and returned to his chambers. Here he made everything secure, and placing his pistol on the table before him, poured out a goblet of wine and settled into the red leather chair.
Chapter 11
Osmo rose in the east, followed by Cirse from the south and Maddar from the southwest to dispel the dark with the gay light of isp.
Matho Lorcas was missing from his chambers; nor was he to be found anywhere within Benbuphar Strang.
The mood in the castle was taut and sullen. Agnois brought word to Efraim that Singhalissa wished an audience with him.
"She must wait until after I confer with the eiodarks," said Efraim. He could not bring himself to look at Agnois.
"I will so inform her, Your Force." Agnois' voice was gentle. "I must call to your attention a message from Kaiark Rianlle of Eccord to the members of the kaiarkal household. He invites you most urgently to a fête at Belrod Strang, during and tomorrow."
"I will visit Belrod Strang with pleasure."
Hours of time moved past; Efraim went out into the meadow beside the castle, then wandered down beside the river. For half an hour he stood tossing stones into the water, then turned and looked back toward Benbuphar Strang - a silhouette of sinister significance.
Where was Matho Lorcas?
Efraim sauntered back to the castle. He climbed the flight of steps to the terrace and halted, reluctant to enter the oppressive dimness.
He forced himself to proceed. Sthelany, leaving the library, paused, as if wishing words with him. Efraim walked past without so much as a side-glance; in truth he dared not look at her, lest she read in his eyes the intensity of his emotion.
Sthelany stood looking after him, a forlorn and thoughtful figure.
At the time appointed, Efraim came forth from his chambers to greet the fourteen eiodarks of Scharrode, all wearing ceremonial black gowns and white vests. Their faces wore almost identical expressions of skepticism, even hostility.
Efraim ushered them into the Grand Parlor, where footmen and under-chamberlains had arranged a circular table. At the tail of the procession came Destian, dressed like the others. Efraim spoke crisply: "I do not recall summoning you to this meeting, Squire Destian; and in any event your presence will not be required."
Destian paused, glanced around the eiodarks. "What is the will of this company?"
Efraim signaled a footman: "Expel Squire Destian instantly from the chamber, by whatever means you find necessary."
Destian managed a mocking grin, turned on his heel and departed. Efraim closed the door and joined his company. "This is an informal meeting. Feel at liberty to express yourselves openly and candidly. I will respect you the more for it."
"Very good," responded one of the older eiodarks, a man solid and sturdy, brown as weathered wood. The man was Baron Haulk, as Efraim would presently learn. "I will take you at your word. Why have you expelled the Kang Destian from a colloquy of his peers?"
"There are several excellent reasons for my action, and you will learn some, if not all, of them presently. I will remind you that by protocols of rank, his title is only as good as that of his mother. As soon as I became Kaiark, she resumed her former status as the Wirwove of Urrue and Destian lapsed to Squire.
A technicality perhaps, but by just such technicalities am I Kaiark and you Eiodark."