Part 11 (1/2)
”You seem fond of it, too.”
”Yes,” said Ankhor, ”we heirs both have taken over the management of our respective houses. But while the elder Jhamri was a shrewd and calculating trader, young Jhamri is merely arrogant and smug, confident in his superior wealth and position. He has never regarded the House of Ankhor as a serious threat.
”In part, that is because I have publicly played the part of the dissipated sensualist,” Ankhor said, turning back to face his guest. ”I am seen in gaming and pleasure houses, drinking excessively and spending lots of money. I sport with women of low cla.s.s while young Jhamri has married well, taking to wife the daughter of Viscount Tomblador, cementing a firm alliance with that house. And while Jhamri immediately set about getting his young wife pregnant, to insure an heir, I have remained single and childless, apparently more interested in spending my father's wealth than building on it.
”So young Lord Jhamri regards me with condescension and contempt, thinking me weak and indolent. The alliance we have signed, with the House of Jhamri as the senior trading partner, has only furthered Jhamri's opinion. And that is exactly what I want him to think.”
”To lull him into a false sense of security,” the robed figure said, nodding.
”Precisely,” said Ankhor, leaning back against the parapet. ”I am still young, and there will be plenty of time to think about finding a suitable wife and starting a family... after I've destroyed my rival. And I shall settle for nothing less than that, total destruction. First, I'll topple his house and humiliate him, make him crawl to me on hands and knees.”
”And then?”
”Then I will kill him.” Ankhor said it plainly, simply, as if he were merely making an observation about the weather. Then he smiled, disarmingly. ”When we were children, my loving sisters used to say our father was raising me as a serpent, feeding me on hatred and spite. They said it to tease me, but I always had a fondness for that metaphor. Serpents are sly and deadly. Serpents strike quickly and without warning. Serpents are survivors. I shall add the figure of a serpent to our standard after Jhamri is destroyed, to commemorate the event.
”So... are you satisfied as to my sincerity?”
The dark-robed figure stepped forward into the moonlight. The hood of the robe was thrown back, revealing a gaunt, fine-featured face, deeply lined with age, and the clean-shaven skull of a templar. Around her head was a thin, hammered gold chap-let bearing the royal crest of Nibenay, the Shadow King.
”His Majesty was concerned you might not follow through,” she said. ”That at the last moment, you might lack the necessary resolve.”
Ankhor smiled. ”Oh, please, Livanna,” he said, ”spare me the fiction that the Shadow King has the slightest interest in anything we do here.”
He went past her, heading back inside through the open veranda doors. With a frown, she followed. He went over to a carved sideboard and poured them both some wine.
”I know perfectly well that Nibenay has ceased caring about anything but his metamorphosis,” Ankhor continued. ”We may be far removed from the centers of power here in the provinces, but I am not without my sources.” He handed her an exquisitely crafted silver goblet. ”The Shadow King's senior templars have taken over the ruling of his realm. Nibenay has outgrown his cares about the city that bears his name. I will not venture to say just what he has grown into, but all things considered, I would much rather conduct business with his templars, whose concerns are more, shall we say... material?” He smiled and raised his goblet to her.
”You are impertinent,” Livanna said.
”And ambitious,” Ankhor added. ”And given the scope of my ambition, along with the benefits that you can reap from it, I am sure my impertinence is something you can tolerate.”
”To a point,” Livanna said.
Ankhor raised his eyebrows and gave her a slight bow. ”Well, I shall try to keep that in mind.”
”Do,” said Livanna curtly. ”Our interests happen to coincide, but that does not make you indispensable.”
”Altaruk shall one day be a defiler city, with me or without me, I know,” said Ankhor. ”I have seen the writing on the wall. However, that day will come much sooner with my help than without it. And you know that very well, or else you would not be here to insure that it is Nibenay who will rule in Altaruk rather than Hamanu of Urik or the Oba of Gulg.” He smiled. ”We both want an edge on the compet.i.tion.”
Ankhor took a sip of wine and settled comfortably into his chair, an action that would have been an insufferable affront to the senior templar in her home city. Her nostrils flared slightly, but otherwise, she showed no reaction.
”Let us understand each other, Livanna,” Ankhor said. ”I am not one of your subjects. At least, not yet. You need me now, and when Altaruk falls under the Shadow King's domain, you are going to need me even more. With Jhamri out of the way, I will control Altaruk's economy. The revenue Nibenay will receive from the House of Ankhor in taxes alone, to say nothing of the profits from investments, gratuities and outright bribes, will not be insignificant. No government can survive without the merchant houses. We both know that. At the same time, we both know that you could easily destroy me. I have no knowledge of magic, whereas you bear the awesome power of the Shadow King. But if anything were to happen to me, the House of Ankhor would collapse.
”Not even my minister of accounts knows all the intricacies of our dealings. My father is much too old to run the business now, and my sisters lack the necessary skills. Five of them have been profitably married off, and the remaining two are merely awaiting their turn. They have been raised to be fine ladies of distinction, not merchant traders.
So you see, Livanna, I am indispensable. I am the House of Ankhor. Stop trying to intimidate me with your powers and your lofty status as a templar and accept that we are equal partners in this venture, or else stop wasting my time. I could manage this without you. It would be inconvenient and would involve delays, but it could be done.”
Livanna gave him a hard stare. ”I am sure Lord Jhamri would be happy to make time for me.”
”No doubt,” said Ankhor. ”If you like, I will have Lya.n.u.s arrange an appointment for you first thing in the morning.”
For a moment, the templar said nothing, then she smiled. ”No, I do not think that will be necessary,” she said. ”Are you like this in all your trade negotiations?”
”No,” said Ankhor. ”Sometimes, I find it necessary to be firm and uncompromising.”
Livanna chuckled. ”A serpent would, indeed, be an appropriate device for your standard. I will be pleased to report to our elder council that we have the right man in Altaruk.”
”You had decided that before you arrived,” Ankhor said. ”So, shall we get down to business?”
”You have arranged for suitable quarters for our recent acquisition?”
”My recent acquisition,” Ankhor corrected her. ”The full amount of the purchase price came out of my pocket, as you will recall, and it was not inconsiderable.” recent acquisition,” Ankhor corrected her. ”The full amount of the purchase price came out of my pocket, as you will recall, and it was not inconsiderable.”
”But are we not partners in this enterprise, as you just said? After all, I am providing the transportation, free of charge,” Livanna responded, ”and at a considerable cost in energy to myself.”
Ankhor shrugged it off. ”Which you will immediately recover by defoliating a garden or two or else killing some hapless drunk wandering through the streets.”
”Nevertheless, I am saving you the time and trouble it would take to arrange for transport all the way from Balic, and in secret, too. And then there is the matter of the time and effort I shall invest in the enterprise from this point on.”
”Which will be offset by the intelligence I will provide, through contacts I have gone to great trouble and expense to develop and skilled agents I have placed in key positions.” Ankhor frowned. ”What is the point of all this d.i.c.kering?”
Livanna smiled. ”I merely wanted to see if I could out-bargain you. Apparently not.”
Ankhor chuckled. ”Not a bad effort, though. For a templar. But right now, I am more interested in seeing what you do best.”
”Well, then... prepare yourself,” Livanna said. She threw back her robe and raised her arms, shutting her eyes in concentration as she mustered her energies for the casting of the spell.
Ankhor felt a subtle change in the atmosphere of the room. It was nothing he could put his finger on, but he felt it, growing, raising gooseb.u.mps on his flesh and making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He was no stranger to magic; he had seen it used before, but never on this level. The sorcerer kings imbued their templars with power, and even at this distance, the Shadow King's power was mighty.
Livanna had been trained since childhood, and she was now a very old woman. It was impossible to guess her age. She looked about seventy, but she was a senior templar, which meant she had to be at least twice that age or even older. She had not yet even cast her spell, and already the room was thrumming with energy.
Ankhor nervously moistened his lips and gripped the arms of his chair to keep his hands from trembling. As a trader, he had learned never to reveal uncertainty and always act as if he was in the superior position, but it was not until that moment that he truly understood just what kind of power Livanna had at her command. He swallowed hard. He could not afford to reveal weakness, but he felt afraid.
With her back to him, Livanna softly spoke the words of the spell, mumbling them under her breath. Ankhor could not make them out, and doubted he could have understood them even if fully audible. The old spell scrolls so jealously guarded by adepts were written in old languages, more guttural and sibilant, harsher to the modern ear. And the more complex the spell, the more complex the incantation.
As Livanna spoke the spell, the room became tenebrous and the air crackled with thaumaturgic discharges, jagged little bolts of energy that surrounded her, fine as spider webs. Ankhor had seen adepts cast spells before, both preservers and defilers, but Livanna was no ordinary adept. She was a senior templar of the Shadow King, with several human lifetimes worth of training and experience, and the power that flowed through her came from Nibenay himself. An ordinary adept would never have survived it.
A wind rose within the room, billowing her robes and snuffing out the candles. Ankhor tightly gripped the arms of the chair, gritting his teeth as he felt all the nerve endings of his body start to tingle. Then bright blue bolts of thaumaturgic energy lanced out from Livanna's palms, converging on a spot about ten feet in front of her, in the center of the room.
Where the twin beams met, an aura formed, growing brighter and expanding slowly as Anfchor watched, shading his eyes against the glare. It was as if a hole had opened in the air, a brightly glowing tunnel through s.p.a.ce and time, and through that tunnel came a figure, a dark silhouette surrounded by the pulsating blue aura that illuminated every corner of the room.
Ankhor felt his breath quicken as the figure stepped into the room. A large, powerful shape, it was outlined by the glare-a figure at least six and a half feet tall. And as the glow diminished and contracted, until it was no more than a fading, faintly sparkling aura surrounding the ma.s.sive form, Ankhor's eyes slowly readjusted, focusing on the rippling, corded muscles of the naked figure.
”Kah,” he said softly. he said softly.
It was a little over a year ago that he had first seen her fight in the arena of Balic. It had not been the first time he had witnessed gladiatorial combat, nor even the first time he had ever seen a mul fight in the arena, but it had been the first time he had ever seen a female of the breed. Female muls were rare. It was far easier to breed males, and both genders had to be specially bred, for all muls were born sterile.