Human men could choose. Sivich, who had murdered his father, had had a choice. He had chosen deceit. He had served the King of Auric for years before he turned on him, and on Teb and Camery and the soldiers loyal to the king.
Teb descended the west tower and went along through several huge rooms to the state dining hall, where the royal party was standing before a windowed alcove, taking mithnon, awaiting the entrance of the king. Accacia was robed in a clinging apricot gown that complemented the yellow tunics of the dark captains. All seven captains were there, all un-men. Their six lieutenants were human men, but sallow and cold-looking. General Vurbane, the last of the group of eight un-men, arrived with King Sardira, who, robed in his perpetual black, a black velvet tunic topped by a black fur cape, stood out sharply against the bright colors. The king took only one glass of mithnon, then was seated in his tall, black chair at the head of the table.
The purple-and-amethyst table setting was set off with oil lamps that burned with violet flame, making the faces of the eight leaders of the dark armies even more grayed and deathlike. Their voices were dry and expressionless. Surrounded by the eight unliving, Teb was gripped by a cold fear.
He had been too angry, at the stable, to try a power of shielding against the un-man. Now he tried, with a heated urgency, and felt the strength of the dragons helping him. Leskrank had been the only one he faced at the stable. Now there were eight of the unliving watching him, with time to observe him carefully.
General Vurbane was seated directly across from Teb, next to Abisha, close enough so Accacia, next to Teb, could ply her charms on him. Teb found it strange to see an un-man who had been badly wounded, for he thought of them as nearly invulnerable. He knew they could die, though their blood did not run red but pale like mucus, and if there was a dark inner self to escape the dying body, it was not like a human soul. Yet even having himself seen them injured and dying, he never got used to it, so strongly did his mind cling to the idea of their invincible power. Vurbane had suffered a wound that left the right side of his face rippled in a wide scar from chin to hairline, ending in a ragged bald spot. The tip of his smallest right finger was missing. His eyes were icy, his lips thin and straight.
Captain Leskrank was seated across the table to Teb’s left, where he could watch Teb and could flirt with Accacia. She played round robin with all the men near her, ignoring Abisha and the few women seated close by. She excited rivalry skillfully, thriving on it. General Vurbane seemed well aware of her style, accepting her favors as if he had a right to them. Abisha watched the two of them, visibly irritated. He had been drinking heavily, and soon his sullen voice rose above the rest, sarcastic and baiting.
“I understand, General, you unearthed a spy in your palace. I am told the girl escaped you.”
Vurbane glowered, his scarred face drawn tight.
“She must have been clever,” Abisha said smugly, “to have eluded all your fine soldiers.”
As Vurbane turned, his scar reflected the lavender light, casting his face into a mask of horror that chilled Teb. ‘The girl was clever, I suppose, for her kind. A mere accident that she escaped. We will find her.”
“A pity, though. Had she served you long?”
“She served my household for two years,” Vurbane said stiffly. “She seemed a docile creature, but who knows, with humans.” He looked Abisha over, seeming to warm to his subject. “The girl was extremely young. One of those pale, blond types . . . tall and well turned out,” he said, leering. “But she was, like all humans, sly and tricky.”
Abisha reddened. Vurbane continued, “She was seen clearly talking to a known spy in the marketplace. Their conversation was reported; guards were sent at once to arrest her.”
“But she escaped them all,” Abisha said, ignoring Vurbane’s insults.
Vurbane looked at him coldly, the purple light flaring along the side of his face. “My troops are quite competent, Prince Abisha. It was a wild fluke that she escaped—disappeared before they arrived.”
Abisha signaled for more wine and sat back heavily in his chair, observing Vurbane. “Maybe someone warned her—another spy. You are right, General Vurbane, such people are . . . a menace.”
Vurbane’s words echoed in Teb’s mind, One of those pale, blond types . . . young . . .
“We do not know,” Vurbane said, “how the girl was warned—if she was. But we will find out,” he said coldly. “There was a wild story about some huge owl swooping down over the market moments before the troops arrived. My slow-witted peasants believed it alerted her—laughable, what the ignorant believe.”
Teb ate slowly, tasting nothing. Could it be Camery? Pale, blond . . . young. . . and on the island where Nightraider had sensed someone. And the owl . . .
It was the big owl, Red Unat, who had brought word that Camery was gone from the prison tower in Auric. Red Unat worked with the resistance, had given his whole commitment to tracking the dark. Teb’s thoughts were cut short by Nightraider’s silent voice.
She is my bard. I still do not sense her, but if she is there—I will search Ekthuma for her.
Teb sensed the cold wind as the black dragon leaped skyward.
I will search for her. . . .
Nightraider was gone.
“We closed off the five crossings,” Vurbane was saying, “and kept watch for several days. We turned out the cottages and shacks, searched thoroughly, but no sign of the wench.” Vurbane touched his scar. “She could not have escaped Ekthuma, unless she swam to her death in the sea.
“Very likely,” he said, smiling, “she took her own life in one way or another. Her kind will do that.” His eyes gleamed. “We will find her body eventually. Unless the sharks ate her.”
His purple-tinged smile and glinting eyes sickened Teb.
“Suicide,” Vurbane said, tasting the word, savoring it. “It is interesting to watch suicide. It sometimes has amusing results. Such panic, such commitment and dedication, to—what? Why do they fight so hard, these dedicated peasants? There was a crone, a rag woman on Cayub who threw herself into the sea when my troops overtook her, impaled herself on a spiked rock and lived three days gasping for help. The troops waited to see her die.” He licked his lips. “Then that tin vendor that set himself afire—and afforded my soldiers an unexpected and interesting entertainment. Unfortunately, I missed it. There are too few such diversions,” he said pleasantly, “in these dull times. That is why, my dear Sardira, we like so much to make these refreshing visits to Dacia. Now tell me, what is the nature of the contestants for tomorrow’s stadium games? And what nature of . . . other entertainment have you provided? We have been limited in our pleasures far too long, training on that cursed rock island off Ocana, at the ends of nowhere.”
“We have some new young slaves,” King Sardira said. “Boys and girls.” His robed figure in the huge carved chair was a pool of blackness at the head of the table. His thin lined face seemed now, in comparison with the gray pallor of the eight unliving, really very healthy and alive. His suggestion of the use of boys and girls disgusted Teb.
“There are a few horses ready to be put down,” the king said. “We might bring out some of my guard lizards from the vaults; their teeth are excellently sharp. We have the blind wolves you shipped to us from Aquervell, of course. Ah, and we have captured some of those cursed speaking cats, my dear Vurbane. They’re fighters, all right, and should make good sport, pitted against anything of your choice. Too bad we don’t have your little escapee to run in with them. We will drug the bulls with cadacus; it makes them crazy. They will make excellent sport with those cats clawing in panic for their lives.”