She could still feel the pressure of his hand around her throat.
What was it that drove this total stranger to attack her in full view of the assembled court? Belbe sat sideways in the throne of Rath and tried to answer the question logically. He called her an abomination, a lie. Both implied representations of truth that were actually false. How was she false? She was who she was, made on the Fourth Sphere of Phyrexia for this exact mission. Did she resemble someone known to Eladamri? She rejected the idea as too absurd.
If that was true, who was Avila?
Belbe shook her head. It throbbed a little where Eladamri had dashed it against the floor. She didn't have enough information to answer her questions. The only place she could get more was from Eladamri.
The convocation room was empty. All that remained were the flags, Eladamri's manacles, and Belbe. She picked up the heavy chains. By now the rebel leader was beginning his interrogation. She remembered what Ertai looked like after Greven was done with him. A sour taste spread up her throat. No doubt Eladamri was tougher than Ertai, but the thought of him being burned and beaten by Greven's moggs made her ill. It was easy enough to send him there when he'd just tried to throttle her. She regretted it now. There'd been enough violence in this place-too much. She was sick of it. If she had authority to stop it, it was high time she exercised it.
Belbe hurried from the hall, still gripping the manacles. She'd had enough of Crovax's bullying, too. He'd humiliated her in the past, but this last time was in public, and she wouldn't stand for any more. If Greven would back her up, she was willing to name Ertai as the next Evincar of Rath.
Crovax wouldn't take it lying down, but she had a few surprises for him. Among the equipment sent with her from Phyrexia was a case of special weapons. She was supposed to supply these weapons to the new evincar, but she had a better use for them. Her masters might not approve, but she had already gone too far down the road of resistance to feel fainthearted. With Ertai at her side, she'd free Greven from his control rod, and together the three of them would destroy Crovax and establish Rath as a sovereign world, no longer the puppet of Phyrexia or a threat to Dominaria. And possibly, if Eladamri were amenable, he could have a post in her new order, too.
The flowbot lift carried her swiftly to the evincar's quarters. When she arrived in the outer chamber, the room was dark. Belbe asked for light, but nothing happened. Annoyed, she climbed the stairs and entered the statuary room. There, lamps blazed brightly.
She stopped short. Something was amiss. Nothing in the room was disturbed, but she avoided the usual path through the statues, preferring to hug the wall instead. The Phyrexian crates were where she'd left them, seals intact. She pressed her thumb into the shallow depression on the back of the seal, and it opened with a click.
Nestled in the crate were two identical weapons-plasma energy dischargers. They were shoulder arms, like crossbows, but instead of a steel bow at a right angle to the stock, there was a long metal casing ending with two sharp metal points pointing forward. Dischargers used a single powerstone. Six were stored in the crate. These stones were so strongly charged they couldn't be loaded bare-handed. She picked up an L-shaped loading tool, pressed it against one of the powerstones, and inserted it into the slot on the underside of the weapon. A row of green and red jewels on top of the discharger began to glow. The weapon was armed.
Cradling the Phyrexian weapon under her arm, Belbe hurried to the lift. She was halfway across the statuary room when she heard a tinny whistling.
Belbe swung the discharger around, aiming the double points in the direction of the sound. The little tune repeated.
"Come out, or I'll use this!" she said. The whistler's reply was mockingly the same.
Her thumb pressed against a smooth pad on the rear of the metal housing. There was a flash like lightning, an earsplitting crack, and one of Volrath's statues was blasted in two. The tune ceased.
"Our masters make impressive weapons, don't they?"
Crovax was close behind her-too close. She tried to bring the heavy discharger to bear, but he tore it from her hands before she could get it leveled, Belbe leaped at him, trying to snatch the weapon back. Crovax casually punched her on the jaw. She flew backward against a statue of a crouching youth. By the time Belbe shook off the blow, the tips of the discharger were an inch from her face.
"You have an extraordinarily hard head, but I suspect this device can deal with that," said Crovax.
"At this range you'll vaporize my skull," Belbe said.
"Really?" Crovax caressed the weapon admiringly.
Belbe waited for the flash and the oblivion to follow. Crovax raised the tips to the ceiling. "Get up."
He went to the door. Men filed in from the darkened staircase. She recognized them as the Corps of Sergeants. Two of them bore a third man between them, hands tied and mouth gagged: Ertai.
Their eyes met. Belbe made a half step in his direction but froze when Sergeant Valmoral pressed the edge of his knife to Ertai's jugular.
She forced herself to be calm. "Now what?"
"This is a coup," Crovax replied matter-of-factly. "As of this moment, I am taking over the rule of Rath. You will name me evincar in front of these witnesses. Now."
"And if I don't?"
"Sergeant Valmoral will bleed the boy dry."
Belbe folded her arms. "So do it. I'll not be coerced."
Crovax shrugged and nodded. Valmoral drew his knife back to add force to the cut. Ertai's eyes widened, then he squeezed them shut. Down came the stroke of the blade.
Under her arm, Belbe had secreted a broken piece of the statue she'd fallen against. It was a young man's hand-a slender, elegant hand, fingers gathered in, touching the finely carved thumb. Made of flowstone, it weight about a pound. She whipped this at Valmoral with all the speed and power she possessed. It hit him on the forehead just before the stroke of his knife laid open Ertai's throat.
The room erupted. Ertai swung his bound hands at the nearest man, catching him in the gut. Belbe whirled and sprang at Crovax. He pointed the Phyrexian weapon at her, but nothing happened. Alarmed, he dropped it, and the flowstone statue of an androgynous nude between him and Belbe came to life at his command. Belbe tried to dodge it, but the statue caught her around the waist and flung her back. Two sergeants moved in. They wore helmets and breastplates but were armed only with knives. Belbe got a foot against the moving statue and heaved it away. The first man slashed at her. She caught his arm and broke it like a twig. He howled and dropped his blade. She twisted his arm behind him, spinning him around, and shoved him against his oncoming comrades.
The floor crept up around her ankles and hardened. Belbe dodged one soldier, knelt, and hammered the flowstone with her fist. The material around her right foot splintered, freeing it. She promptly used it to kick one of her attackers in the chest. His cuirass indented three inches from the blow. She felt the ribs behind the armor crack, and the man went down.
A knife point raked across the bridge of her nose. This one was going for her eyes! Enraged, Belbe brought her hand across to ward off another attack. The sergeant drove his knife right through the palm of her hand. She blocked the pain and closed her fingers around his knife, crushing every bone in his hand. He groaned and fell to his knees. Belbe slid her impaled hand off the knife blade and delivered a reverse kick to the back of the man's skull. There was a crunch of bone, and he pitched forward. The man was dead before his head hit the floor.
All of a sudden the fight was over. Belbe had disposed of four attackers. Her left foot was trapped in a thick block of flowstone, and glistening oil was leaking from the hole in her hand. Crovax and the rest of the sergeants withdrew beyond her reach.