“My father or me, you mean. I'd have no idea what to do with the thing,” said Menish. “Give me a sword and a horse and I'll fight well enough. I don't trust talismans.”
“If you want to find out anything about the Eye then I must go, for I've seen it,” said Hrangil. “It would be a waste if the others came back with a mistaken tale.” He was looking at Althak as he spoke.
Vorish always got the volunteers he wanted. Menish had noticed this before.
The rest of the meeting was taken up with provisional planning for the attack, if the information were confirmed. Moving nearly twenty thousand men into Ristalshuz and keeping them fed the whole time was something Vorish insisted had to be planned meticulously. A large portion of his standing army would be made ready, some troops could be pulled back from the southern border. Peasant levies could be organised but not until after the harvest was in. And Vorish wanted the peasants armed and trained as well.
Wagon trains would be loaded and dispatched to intersect with the army's route. It became more difficult in Anthor where the roads were bad and there were few supplies to be had. Unlike Vorish, Menish could not order his people to hand over their herds. Though some would if he asked.
At last, in the middle of the afternoon, Vorish concluded their council and announced that he was going to see how Azkun was faring.
As the meeting broke up Althak caught Menish's eye.
“M'Lord, a word?”
“Of course.”
“I know your plan was to leave Keashil and the boy here, and I'm sure Vorish would be happy to have her. But she's grown used to me, and I wonder if it would be as well if she came with us to Meyathal, with your permission, of course.”
“It's a hard journey, Althak.”
“She's not unfit, M'Lord. And younger than she looks. Her hair is white but, even blind, she can pillion on a horse as well any anyone.”
“If you were not so Vorthenki I'd wonder if you were looking for a wife,” said Menish with a smile.
“I have hopes, M'Lord.”
“Then they ride with us. I wish you luck, Althak.”
Azkun passed the night in a damp, gloomy cell somewhere in the bowels of the palace. The only opening was a heavy door with a tiny grill in it, and in one corner was a pile of damp hay that stank of urine. He sat as far away from it as possible, crouching in the corner.
He had been so angry, so outraged. Once he would have done nothing, he would have simply allowed the evil to continue, but not any more. He had called on the dragons to calm a storm, he had stopped the people sacrificing to him at Deenar and he had stopped the man in the knife fight from dying. He was not powerless.
But he could do nothing to stop Vorish’s guards who had taken him from Althak. In spite of Althak telling them Azkun was only drunk, they had not been gentle. Tenari had been pulled away from him, he had scratches on his arm where she had tried to cling on. She had lashed out at the guards, including Althak, screaming incoherently. The last he had seen of her was Althak pulling her in the general direction of their guest apartment with his nose bleeding.
Azkun had not struggled, there was no point telling them not kill and then trying to murder the guards. But, even so, they took their opportunities to batter him on the way to the cell. Vorish’s household guards were fiercely loyal to him. They took exception to what Azkun had said about their Emperor and told him so with blows.
His anger had cooled by the time the glimmer of dawn showed dimly through the grill in the door. The passage outside his cell connected to another that connected to one that had a window. Day here was only a little lighter than night.
Hours after he had noticed the daylight he heard the heavy tread of two guards. They passed his cell carrying a lamp. He called to them but they did not answer. The noise of another cell door clanged and he heard a cry from a prisoner like himself.
They pulled the man from his cell and led him away. Azkun heard the clatter of chains and the miserable pleas of the man to leave him alone. It confused him. Why did the man not want to leave his cell? Where were they taking him that was worse?
Shortly afterwards he knew.
He did not know where the man was, but he knew he was tied with his hands above his head while searing lashes of pain were torn across his back. There were many people watching. Most of them pitiless but in some he felt sorrow. Azkun himself felt each dreadful lash and was barely conscious when they delivered a final blow with something heavy and sharp. Darkness engulfed the man's spirit and reached for his own.
By the time he heard the guards again his back still tingled with remembered agony but his head had cleared. They stopped outside his door and he heard the lock opening. Were they going to do it to him this time?
The door swung open and two armed guards stamped in. He cowered against the back wall, alone and vulnerable. Behind the guards came Vorish.
He walked with the same easy grace he had shown in the Sword Hall the night before. With a wave of his hand he dismissed the guards and they returned to wait in the passage outside, leaving their lamp in the cell.
Azkun relaxed just a little. They were not going to execute him, or not yet, but they had left a dangerous beast in the room behind them.
Vorish said nothing for a moment, he looked at Azkun with his eyes bright in the lamplight, as if he were stalking him.
“The man who was killed looks enough like you from a little distance. It was done in public and many of those watching thought it was you. No one insults me in my own hall.”
“You did that to him because of me?”
Vorish nodded.
“Why?”
“Because I knew you would feel everything.”
“So did he.”
“Yes, so did he. Shall I tell you who he was?”
“Does it matter? He was just another of your victims. As I am.”
“You accuse me of much, Azkun. You throw angry words at me. Now you'll learn exactly what your words did.”
“I would rather be whipped than listen to you!”
“I choose otherwise. Since I'm the most guilty of all surely I'm entitled to choose? The man, his name was Tralath. I've had him watched for some months now. He's been waiting for an opportunity like this, meeting, plotting, gathering support. You think I hold Relanor with no effort? No. There are always people like Tralath, people who would like my throne. You provide a rallying cry for them.
“Tralath and his friends met shortly after the banquet finished to talk of how they could use your speech and subsequent withdrawal to their advantage. They planned to cause a riot in the streets this evening to demand your release from my prison. If the riot went unchecked there would be many deaths. Those who support me fighting those who hate me, and it would be your name they would be shouting as they hacked each other to pieces. Is that what you intended?”
Azkun was shocked into silence. He wanted to challenge Vorish’s assertion, to deny it. But he heard truth in Vorish’s words.
“No, it's not,” continued Vorish. “And how would you prevent this happening? How can you avoid this consequence of your actions? Remember this is not my choice.”
“I… I could speak to them. I could tell them to stop.”
“Fool! They don't want to hear you tell them to stop. They want to murder me and this is a step towards that. Who or what you are is irrelevant. All that matters is power. Shall I tell you my solution?”
Azkun nodded, though he was not certain he wanted to hear.
“I rounded up Tralath and his main supporters as they came out of the meeting. Tralath had to die, of course. The others will have their tongues cut out for speaking sedition. Only half a dozen of them.”
Vorish grasped Azkun by the shoulders and stared into his face. “Now do you see the consequences of your actions? Pain and death, the thing you fear most, you actually caused. Only I was able to prevent it escalating further. I'm not a cruel man, but I rule a cruel people and I have to make cruel decisions.”