The Shining Ones - David Eddings 20 стр.


Do you want me to sign something in my own blood? Kalten demanded acidly.

Its a thought, but I dont have any parchment handy. Ill accept your verbal oathfor the time being. I may change my mind later, though, so keep your veins nice and loose and your dagger sharp.

Sparhawk? Ambassador Fontan exclaimed. What are you doing in Darsas? The ancient Tamul diplomat stared at the big Pandion in astonishment.

Just passing through, your Excellency, Sparhawk replied. May I come in?

By all means, my boy. Fontan opened his door wide and Sparhawk and Flute entered the crimson-carpeted study of the Tamul Embassy.

Youre looking well, your Royal Highness, Fontan smiled at the little girl. Then he looked at her more closely. Im sorry, he apologized to her. I mistook you for Prince Sparhawks daughter. You resemble her very much.

Were distantly related, your Excellency, Flute told him without turning a hair.

Has word reached you about what happened in Matherion a few weeks ago, your Excellency? Sparhawk asked, tucking the Bhelliom back into his inside tunic pocket.

Just yesterday, Fontan replied. Is the Emperor safe?

Sparhawk nodded. My wifes looking after him. Our times limited, your Excellency, so Im not going to be able to explain everything. Are you cosmopolitan enough to accept the notion that the Styrics have some very unusual capabilities?

Fontan smiled faintly. Prince Sparhawk, a man my age is willing to accept almost anything. After the initial shock of astonishment that comes each morning when I wake up and discover that Im still alive, I can face the day with an open mind.

Good. My friends and I left Korvan down in Edam about an hour ago. Theyre riding on toward Cyton on the border, but I came here to have a word with you.

An hour ago?

Just take it on faith, your Excellency, Flute told him. Its one of those Styric things Sparhawk was talking about.

Im not certain how much your messenger told you, Sparhawk continued, but its urgent that all of the Atan garrison commanders in the empire know that the Ministry of the Interiors not to be trusted. Minister Kolatas working for the other side.

I never liked that man, Fontan said. He gave Sparhawk a speculative look. This message is hardly so earth-shaking that it would move you to violate a whole cluster of natural laws, Sparhawk. What are you really doing in Darsas?

Casting false trails, your Excellency. Our enemies have ways of detecting my presence, so Im going to give them a presence to detect in various towns in assorted corners of the Empire in order to confuse them a bit. My friends and I are returning overland from Korvan to Matherion, and wed prefer not to be ambushed along the way. This isnt a confidential visit, Ambassador Fontan. Feel free to let people know that I stopped by. Theyll probably know already, but lets confirm it for them.

I like your style, Sparhawk. Youll be crossing Cynesga? Sparhawk nodded. Its an unpleasant country.

These are unpleasant times. Oh, it wont really hurt if youre sort of smug when you tell people that youve seen me. Our side was definitely behind up until now. That changed a few days ago. Our enemy, whoever he is, is at a distinct disadvantage right now, and Id sort of like to grind his face in that fact for a while.

Ill get word to the town crier immediately. The ancient man squinted up at the ceiling. How long can you stay?

An hour at the very most.

Plenty of time, then. Why dont we step over to the palace? Ill take you into the throne-room, and you can pay your respects to the kingin front of his entire court. Thats the best way I know of to let people know youve been here.

I like your style, your Excellency, Sparhawk grinned.

It grew easier each time. At first, Bhelliom seemed impossibly dense, and Flute frequently had to step in, speaking in that language which Sparhawk strongly suspected was the original language of the Gods themselves. Gradually, the stone seemed to grasp what was wanted of it. Its compliance was never fully willing, however. It had to be compelled. Sparhawk found that visualizing Vanions map helped quite a bit. Once Bhelliom grasped the fact that the map was no more than a picture of the world, it grew easier for Sparhawk to tell the jewel where he wanted to go.

This is not to say that there werent a few false starts. Once, when he had been concentrating on the town of Delo on the east coast, the thought crossed his mind that there was a certain remote similarity between that name and the name of the town of Demos in east-central Elenia, and after the momentary gray blur where the world around him shifted and changed, he found himself and Flute riding Faran in bright moonlight up the lane that led to Kuriks farm.

What are you doing? Flute demanded.

My attention wandered. Sorry.

Keep your mind on your work. Bhellioms responding to what youre thinking, not what youre saying. It probably doesnt even understand Elenicbut then, who really does?

Be nice.

Take us back immediately!

Yes, maam.

There was that now-familiar lurch, and the moonlight faded into gray. Then they were back in bright autumn sunshine on the road a few miles outside Korvan, and their friends were staring at them in astonishment.

What went wrong? Sephrenia asked Flute.

Our glorious leader here was wool-gathering, Flute replied with heavy sarcasm. We just took a little side-trip to Demos.

Demos! Vanion exclaimed. Thats on the other side of the world!

Yes, she agreed. Its the middle of the night there right now. We were on the road to Kuriks farm. Maybe our stalwart commander here felt lonesome for Aslades cooking.

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I can live without these stalwart commanders, and glorious leaders, Sparhawk told her tartly.

Then do it right.

There was a certain desperation in the flicker of darkness at the edge of Sparhawks vision this time, and a faint flicker of harried confusion. Sparhawk did not even stop to think. Blue Rose! he barked to the Bhelliom, bringing up his other hand so that both rings touched the deep blue petals, destroy that thing. He felt a brief jolt in his hands and heard a sizzling kind of crackle behind him.

The shadow that had dogged their steps for so long, which they had thought at first to be Azash and then the Troll-Gods, gave a shrill shriek and began to babble in agony. Sparhawk saw Sephrenias eyes widen.

The shadow was crying out, not in Zemoch or Trollish, but in Styric.

8

Well now, yer Queenship, Caalador was saying, I dont know az Id start a-dancin in the streets gist yet. Them fellers over t Interiors bin a-doin everthang but a-nailin th doors shot t keep us from a-puttin our hands on this yore perticler set o files, an now they turns up sorta unexpected-like amongst a hull buncha otherswhich Id swear a oath to that I already looked over bout four er five times my own self. Dont that smell gist a bit like a dead fish t you?

What did he say? Emperor Sarabian asked.

Hes suspicious, Ehlana translated. He thinks that our discovery of these files was too easy. He may just have a point.

They had gathered again in the royal apartment in what was by now generally called Ehlanas Castle to discuss the surprising discovery of a hitherto missing set of personnel files. The files themselves were stacked in heaps upon the tables and the floor of the main sitting room.

Do you always have to complicate things, Master Caalador? The Emperors expression was slightly pained. As he habitually did now, Sarabian was wearing western-style clothes. Ehlana felt that this mornings choice of a black velvet doublet and pearl-grey hose was not a happy one. Black velvet made Sarabians bronze-tinted skin look sallow and unhealthy.

Im a professional swindler, your Majesty, Caalador replied, dropping the dialect. Ive learned that when something seems too good to be true, it probably is.

Stragen was looking into one of the files. What an amazing thing, he said. Someone in the Ministry of the Interior seems to have discovered the secret of eternal youth.

Dont be cryptic, Stragen, Ehlana told him, adjusting the folds of her blue dressing gown. Say what you mean.

He took a sheet of paper out of the file he was holding. This particular document looks as if it were only written last week, which it probably was. The inks barely dry.

They are still using those files, Milord, Oscagne said, despite the inconvenience. Its probably just a recently filed document.

Stragen took out another sheet of paper and handed both documents to the Foreign Minister. Do you notice anything unusual about these, your Excellency?

Oscagne shrugged. One of thems fairly new, the others turned yellow with age, and the inks faded so badly you can hardly read it.

Exactly, Stragen said. Dont you find it just a little odd that the faded ones supposed to be five years younger than the fresh one?

Oscagne looked more closely at the two sheets of paper. Are you trying to say that they falsified an official document? he exclaimed. Thats a capital offense!

Let me see those, Sarabian said. Oscagne handed him the documents. Oh, yes, Sarabian noted, Chalba. Kolatas been singing his praises for the past fifteen years. He held up the suspicious document. This purports to be his appointment to the ministry. Its dated no more than a week after Kolata took office. He looked at Stragen. You think this has been substituted for the original?

It certainly looks that way, your Majesty. Sarabian frowned. What could there possibly have been on the original that theyd have wanted to conceal? he asked.

I have no idea, your Majesty. There must have been something, though. He leafed through the file. This Chalbas rise in the ministry was positively meteoric. It looks as if he was getting promoted every time he turned around.

That sounds a bit like the sort of thing one does for a close friend, Oscagne mused, ... or a relative.

Sarabian smiled faintly. Yes, it does, doesnt it? Your brother Itagne seems to have risen quite nearly as rapidly.

Oscagne made a face. That wasnt my idea, your Majesty. Itagnes not a career official of the Foreign Ministry. I press him into service in emergencies, and he always extorts promotions out of me. Id rather not have anything to do with him at all, but hes so brilliant that I dont have any choice. My younger brothers intensely competitive, and I wouldnt be at all surprised to find that he has his eye on my position.

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