"Can the bridge be sundered from the water clock, in case of emergencies?"
"Aye. The windlass in the gatehouse can be used to override the clock. But that happens seldom, for we have few visitors to Rennum Kezymar."
They descended another stair. Mehru unlocked another door, saying: "This chamber, Master Maltho, is our armory—but it is not an armory in the usual sense. It holds our choicest mementoes. Behold!"
"Good gods!" said Jorian, staring.
The mementoes were a collection of the instruments with which the headsmen carried out their duties. There were axes and blocks, swords, hangman's ropes, strangler's cords, and throat-cutter's hook-bladed knives. There were two complete racks and a cauldron for boiling oil. There were fetters and thongs and staves and scourges and branding irons. There were special instruments whose purpose was not at once apparent.
To one side, an elderly, whiskery Brother sat on a stool, lovingly whetting one of the axes with a faraway look in his eyes.
"How now, Brother Dhaong?" said Mehru. "Think you your edge will have the trueness tonight's contest demands?"
The ancient gave a dreamy smile and continued to brush the whetstone back and forth, wheep-wheep.
"What contest?" asked Jorian uncomfortably.
"You shall see," grinned Mehru. "Behold here, the very block whereon Genera Vijjayan's head was smitten off, after his revolt against King Sirvasha failed. Let me show you some of our more specialized instruments. This is a set of matched eye-gougers belonging to Brother Parhbai. This iron boot is very persuasive when placed in the fire with the suspect's leg inside it. This is an ingenious device for crushing a suspect's leg to a jelly. King Laditya employed it on a brother whom he suspected of plotting against him. Since then our kings have become more practical; they have all their brothers slain upon their accession."
"That sounds hard on the brothers."
'True, but it makes work for us. Now here is Brother Ghos's wheel, with the hammer for breaking prisoners on it. Here is a fine thumbscrew; see the gold and silver inlay on the steel… Brother Dhaong was one of the lucky ones in the draw; so was I. Hence we shall have a chance—but I must not spoil your pleasure by telling you now."
"I have seen enough, thank you," said Jorian. "Like Doctor Karadur, I crave rest."
"Oh, certes," said Mehru. "In that case, let us return to the main hall, where a chamber has been set aside for you."
Jorian was silent on his way back to the main hall. Mehru, still chattering pleasantly, showed him to the chamber whither Karadur had retired. Inside were two beds, on one of which the old wizard lay on his back, snoring.
Jorian closed the door and lay down on the other bed. He found, however, that he could not sleep. After a while he got up, went out, and did some exploring on his own. The castle was silent save for the sounds of cookery from the kitchen and the snores that issued from behind various doors.
Beside the stairs that led up from the main hall, a stair led down from it. Pursuing it, at the bottom Jorian found a long passage, lit by a single candle on a wall bracket, with rooms opening off from it. Some of these, to judge by the massive padlocks on their doors, seemed to be storerooms for valuables. A couple were barred cells, and from one of these burst a chorus of familiar squeals. The cell contained the twelve slave girls.
"O Maltho! Master Maltho! Dear, kind Maltho!" they cried. "Why have they locked us up here? What do they with us? Can't you get us out?"
"Tell me what's happened," he said. All spoke at once, but the gist was that they had been taken directly to the cell from the main hall, given food and drink, and left in silence and solitude.
"I know not what these men intend," he said, "but I'll try to find out and, if it be evil, to thwart their plans. Be good girls!"
Jorian went back upstairs to the tower room that housed the clockwork. The locked door quickly yielded to one of his pick-locks. Thanking his gods that he was familiar with his father's mechanisms, he pulled out one of the keys that governed the raising of the drawbridge and inserted it into another hole. Then he returned to the chamber where Karadur slept and shook the wizard.
"Wake up!" he said. "I think you were right about your evil aura."
"Well?" said Karadur, yawning and rubbing his eyes.
"Unless I much mistake, these headsmen plan to stage a contest with their banquet this even, to exhibit their specialties in the practice of their calling."
"How mean you? To swing their axes and such-like to show they have not lost their form?"
"More than that I think they plan to demonstrate their skills on those twelve slave girls we brought."
"You mean to chop and choke—Kradha preserve us! I will not stay here an instant longer to witness such wickedness!" Karadur began winding his turban, but so agitated was he that the thing repeatedly fell down in loops about his neck. "And you are he who has been talking about headsmen's being but human like all other men!"
"Now whither are you going so suddenly?" said Jorian. "If I am to rescue the lassies, I shall need your help."
"Rescue them? Are you mad, my son? How can one man rescue them from a castle full of these hulking brutes?"
"I know not, yet, but something may turn up. At least, I mean to see it through. I brought the girls hither."
"But—but—do not throw your life away!" Karadur clutched Jorian's huge hand, and tears ran down his wrinkled, brown cheeks into his silky white beard. "It will avail your lassies nought and ruin our chances of obtaining the Kist of Avlen!"
"If I perish, it matters not a whit to me what befalls the Kist of Avlen. If I succeed, I shall still be available for your bit of high-class burglary."
"But you have no true moral obligation! What are these wenches to you? Why risk your life for them?"
"Shame on you for talking like one of those selfish materialists you are always denouncing!"
"Never mind me. Give me a good reason for what you plan to attempt."
"Say it infuriates me to see the poor little harmless dears put to pain and death for frivolous reasons. I never allowed that sort of thing when I was king, and I won't begin now."
"But the women are the Brothers' lawful property, to rob them of which were theft and in itself a sin."
'Then I'm a sinner. Besides, they are Novarians and so, according to the philosopher Achaemo, should never have been held in servitude by other Novarians in the first place. Now calm yourself and help me to plan."
"I will not! I cannot!" chattered Karadur, making a sudden rush for the door. Jorian, being the quicker, got there first and set his broad back against the door.
"Coward!" he snarled. "With all your lofty talk of altruism and self-sacrifice and moral purity, you turn tail at the first chance to practice your preachments!"
"Nay, nay, my beloved son!" wailed Karadur. "I am no warrior, inured to bloodshed and deadly hazards! I am but a peaceful philosopher and student of the occult arts, long past the age of combat."
"Rubbish! I'm no warrior, either, but a common artisan masquerading as one. These adventures affright me half out of my wits. If I can face it, surely you can. You showed mettle enough at my execution in Xylar."
But Karadur only babbled: "Nay! Nay! Let me go, I say! If it be wrong of you to risk yourself uselessly, it were doubly wrong to involve me in your suicide!"
Karadur, thought Jorian, would be useless in his present panic. He said: "I'll make a compact with you. Let me see what magical properties you have with you, and tell me what each one does."
"Well," said Karadur, sinking down upon his bed and fumbling in his robe, "this phial contains the essence of covetousness; a drop in the soup of him to whom you would sell a thing, and your suit is two-thirds won. It requires no incantation and is very popular with horse traders. Next, I have here a ring with a beryl wherein is imprisoned the demon Gorax. When threatened by malevolent spirits, such as the swamp devils of Moru, you have but to utter the right incantation, and Gorax will come forth and put those beings to rout. Afterwards another spell will compel him to return to the ring. The cantrips, however, are long and difficult, and the commands to Gorax must be phrased with the nicest accuracy, since he is stupid even for a demon and can wreak grave havoc through misunderstanding. Now here…"