18: SENCHO
His Worthiness Sencho-bè-L'vandor, High Counselor of Bekla, was, in this seventh year of the reign of Durakkon, forty-five years of age, a leading member of the Leopard faction and one of the wealthiest and most powerful men in the empire.
He had been born in the lower city of Bekla, the bastard of a common prostitute. By the age of ten he had already been trained both to tout and to steal and, being a very personable child when clean, had also learned a good deal on his own account about turning to profit the sexual propensities of grown men and women. At this time his mother, having taken up with a gang of thieves and realizing that her life was in danger through knowing too much about a murder, fled across the Vrako and ended in Zeray, leaving Sencho to fend for himself. A certain steward who pandered to his master's proclivities, catching sight one day of the handsome child begging at the back door, gave him a place in the kitchen; and a week or two later, having satisfied himself that his judgment had been correct and that the lad would do, brought him before his master, the prosperous iron-merchant Fravak.
Fravak, sitting in his courtyard after dinner on an afternoon of early summer, thrust a hand tipsily under the boy's tunic and, fondling and pinching, questioned him about his past experience, concluding by requiring him to demonstrate one or two of his claims. Some time later, before settling himself comfortably to sleep, he instructed the steward to take Sencho away and prepare him for his future role in the household.
For the next ten or twelve weeks the boy was confined to a luxuriously-furnished room on the upper floor of Fravak's mansion. Here he had a private balcony and bathroom and his own personal slave, a girl from Gelt who said little but carried out conscientiously her duties of attending to his health, of oiling and massaging his body and above all, of compelling him to eat.
He was required to eat almost from morning to night— quantities of rich, delicious food, gradually increased as the weeks went by. Whenever he would not or could not eat more he was beaten with a pliant cane, until he lay screaming on the thickly-carpeted floor. When he succeeded in eating even more than was demanded of him he was rewarded with gifts; pretty boxes, combs and necklaces, or with money which he was encouraged to send the slave-girl out to spend on his behalf.
When not eating or sleeping he lay in the sun, in order that his smooth, oiled flesh might not grow pallid with confinement; learned to read, write and sing; and practiced certain other skills in which his master wished him to become adept.
After some three months he had acquired an almost insatiable capacity for rich food and become, in his upstairs boudoir, as plump as a quail ready for the pot. His cunning was no less but his well-being and energy had much increased. At once firm and soft, his buttocks, arms and legs dimpled with chubby, rosy flesh, his belly round and smooth as a gourd, he was again presented to the merchant to take up the duties for which he had been so assiduously prepared.
At first, however, he had relatively little to do by day. When his master returned from business in the evening, Sencho would prepare his bath and then join him in it to soap and oil him; and later, would dry and massage him, either on the balcony or, if it were the rainy season, in the warmth of the bedroom.
After this he would accompany him to dinner and wait upon him. The boy learned to carve, to serve vegetables and cheeses, to pour wine and to mix all manner of liquors and syllabubs. Watching him as he went about his duties, the merchant would sigh with contentment and, when the other servants had been dismissed from the room, would call him to stand beside his couch, loosen his clothes and caress his limbs and body. Then, shuddering with pleasure and drawing the boy down beside him in the cushions, he would sodomize him.
Sencho's sharp wits did not desert him, and neither did his constant awareness of where his own best interests lay. The merchant, as he grew older and still more wealthy, acquired other boys and these Sencho, so far from treating with jealousy or malice (which would only have precipitated his own return to the gutter or the slave market), took care to encourage and to praise to his master, at the same time making sure that Fravak appreciated that he himself had played a large part in preparing and training them for his enjoyment. By imperceptible degrees his function in the household changed from that of a catamite to a procurer and supervisor of the iron-merchant's pleasures.
No boy could hope to remain long in Fravak's favor unless he cultivated Sencho's as well, but a boy who showed that he was ready to accept Sencho's instructions was given them in full measure, since it suited Sencho to be relieved of the tedious task of simulating enjoyment in order to flatter and gratify the merchant. Besides, he was now beginning to take more than a little interest in women and accordingly preferred to avoid wasting nights in his master's bed. By the time he was sixteen, though he sometimes, at the merchant's bidding, used to amuse him by bringing girls to his room and there doing with them as he wished, he played almost no other direct part in his pleasures.
Next—watching every opportunity to run errands to and from those with whom Fravak did business, and to accompany him to the metal-market and his warehouses—he set himself to learn all that he could about the iron trade and Fravak's interests in it. Making himself agreeable to other dealers, who knew his influence with Fravak and wished to make use of him if they could, he kept his ear close to the ground.
One day, having slipped away to the house of a copper-merchant who had more than once importuned him, he was refreshing himself in the bath after the strenuous activities required of him, when a friend of his new patron called on business. Having been hospitably Offered them by the copper-merchant, this friend also availed himself of the boy's pleasant services. Afterwards the two men, relaxing contentedly over their wine, spoke frankly and unguardedly together of certain business plans, while Sencho lay in bed pretending slumber. What he heard that afternoon, duly related to Fravak, saved his master from becoming the victim of a scheme which would almost certainly have ruined him.
Understanding from henceforth what a pearl he had in Sencho—for the matter was complicated, and not every youth would have comprehended the significance of what he had overheard—Fravak henceforth gave him every opportunity to educate himself in the business. Once, having been entrusted with an important mission to Gelt itself, he returned with not only the problem untangled but also a pretty little boy whom he had spotted in an iron-master's household and bought for Fravak on his own initiative. This was characteristic of his cunning, for while building up his own grasp of the business he also took care to see that Fravak, as he aged, became more and more indolent and addicted to luxury. After a time his dependence upon Sencho became virtually complete.
Sencho, however, was too clever to cheat his master, knowing that the merchant, who was (or had once been) no fool, would be expecting and watching for him to do just this. He was after a far bigger prize.
The accounts he rendered were honest and accurate. The reports and news which he brought to Fravak were reliable. He himself lived plainly and took care that his sprees were intermittent and indulged away from the household. Except when bidden, for his master's titillation and amusement, he never touched any girl about the place. Over the years he was successful in convincing the lonely and aging merchant of what he wanted to believe; namely, that here at least was one friend who fell genuine affection and loyalty towards him, one whom he could trust and who deserved his gratitude. For the merchant (like Occula) felt a need for someone towards whom he could honestly feel he had behaved generously.
One spring day, when Sencho was in his twenty-fifth year, the elderly Fravak revealed to him that he had made him his heir and intended him, as the reward of his faithful services, to succeed to the control of the iron business. Sencho, who did not mean to remain buying and selling meta' all his life, now realized that it was vital that he should take the next step before anything might happen to cause Fravak to change his mind.
The murder was astonishingly easy. At this particular time the merchant had two favorites, one a merry, lewd-minded little Yeldsashay boy, ten years old and shaping well; the other, who had been longer in the household, a dark, handsome, thirteen-year-old Katrian, taken in a raid across the Zhairgen north of Dari-Paltesh, not popular in the household on account of speaking little or no Beklan and all too plainly regarding himself as still an enemy of Bekla. At first Fravak had greatly enjoyed this boy, but of late had begun to prefer the Yeldashay lad as being more ingenious and reciprocal. Sencho, who of course had a key to his master's room, simply went to it in the middle of the night when Fravak and the lad were asleep, stabbed them both and then left the knife and his key in the Katrian boy's bed. As Fravak's heir and representative at law he gained credit for earnestly begging the authorities that the boy, on account of his youth, should receive a quick and merciful death. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to be tortured, for those in extremis speak the truth, and an experienced examiner is adept at perceiving when they are doing so. The boy's continued insistence on his innocence might have given rise to speculation.
At first Sencho was content to use Fravak's money in pitting his wits against other iron-merchants, in entering new areas of trade—cloth, rope and precious stones—and in indulging his greed and lust more fully and pleasantly than had been possible before. Fravak had been a sound rather than an enterprising merchant and, despite the fact that he traded a great deal in iron required for weapons and armor, had never felt any inclination, in his dealings with the Beklan military commanders, to advance himself other than financially. By contrast, Sencho was consumed with the desire for real and actual power.
At this period of the empire's history—inevitably, in a semi-barbaric country where roads and transport were still rudimentary—the scope of the central authority was limited. Bekla itself, of course, was a natural focal point or hub for communications and trade. Centuries before, the barons of Bekla, able to exercise control over this important cross-roads and commercial center, had turned the city's position to advantage by collecting dues from those who came to trade in or travel through it. These had been Senda-na-Say's ancestors—controllers of an asset which the provinces around them could not well do without, and for the benefit of which they were accordingly ready to pay. Later, as Bekla's prestige, wealth and strength gradually grew, they also became prepared to bid against one another for its support. Lapan would ask for protection against Yelda, Urtah against Paltesh, and so on. It became Bekla's policy to exploit a rudimentary balance of power. Sometimes payment was made in money, cattle or slaves; sometimes by way of a pact which further extended Beklan authority.
Gradually a hegemony emerged, centering on Bekla and extending from Belishba to the Vrako and from Yelda to the Telthearna. But although Bekla now collected taxes and controlled a standing army made up of contingents from the provinces, the autonomy of the provincial barons was certainly not at an end.
Once, for example, when the army had been ordered to Sarkid to enforce a Beklan tax decree, the Sarkid contingent deserted at the frontier, the army encountered strong local resistance and the end of the business was a very nominal and face-saving enforcement of the decree for a year, after which it was conveniently forgotten. Sarkid, of course, with its ruling line descended from the legendary hero U-Deparioth, had always been an exceptionally proud and independent province, but the incident exemplified clearly enough that the provinces and their baronial rulers were by no means entirely under Beklan control.
The provincial barons met yearly, in the great Palace on the Leopard Hill, at the time of the spring festival held to celebrate the Sacred Queen's ceremonial union with the god Cran. At these meetings oaths of loyalty were sworn, the empire's affairs-in-common were discussed and policy more-or-less agreed upon; but the house of na-Say had learned, over many years, that the continuance of its power was only partly dependent upon intimidation. Equally important were first, the benefits it could grant or withhold— namely, help in emergency, assistance with civil works and enforcement of law and order—and secondly, the exercise of a prudent discretion in ignoring provincial quarrels un-less and until they went too far.
The empire's intermittent war with Terekenalt, on its western borders, had lasted longer than living memory. The kingdom of Terekenalt was a relatively small country, no bigger than two Beklan provinces put together, but its people were hardy, warlike and almost entirely loyal to an able monarchy. The war, conducted in difficult country between armies able to campaign effectively only during the summer months, was for the most part an affair of personal exploits, skirmishes, raids, burnings and lootings. Every now and then, however, under the leadership of some determined captain on one side or the other, it would flare up into a more serious business. The Zhairgen, down the last fifty miles of its length, represented a considerable obstacle between the contestants. Nevertheless, it was crossed again and again by commanders of both sides eager to prove their worth and to take booty.
The principal contested area was Suba, the watery region lying between the Zhairgen on the west and its tributary, the Valderra, on the east. This, somewhat tenuously owing allegiance to Urtah, was (as Occula described it in her story) marsh and fishing country, full of lakes, criss-crossed by tributaries of both rivers and inhabited from time immemorial by men inured to swamps and mists, accustomed to building their dwellings on islands or even on stilts above the water, and expert in the use of rafts, boats and nets. To the Beklans it was unarguable that the natural frontier between Terekenalt and the empire was the River Zhairgen. The kings of Terekenalt considered that it should be the River Valderra. From time to time Terekenalt would invade Suba—insofar as anyone could effectively invade such a country—until the empire, goaded into concerted action, would mount an expedition to re-pulse so serious a threat to Urtah and Paltesh.
Immediately to the west of the Zhairgen lay the Terekenalt province of Katria, the northern part of which comprised the wild and dangerous Blue Forest. Keril, the principal town of Katria, had more than once been menaced by a Beklan raiding force, but never as yet taken.
So matters stood some two or three years after Sencho's inheritance of the wealth of Fravak. About this time there appeared two figures—one on each side—whose respective effects were to strengthen Terekenalt's ambition to take Suba; and to weaken the resistant power of Paltesh and hence of the empire itself.
On the one hand, King Karnat succeeded to the throne of Terekenalt. Even in a long line of warlike kings, Karnat was egregious. In the first place he was, physically, almost a giant—immensely tall, and well-made in proportion. The very sight of him was enough to inspire his subjects and followers with admiration and confidence. Secondly, he soon showed himself an active leader, aggressive and daring—the kind of man whose latest exploit is related from mouth to mouth. Finally he was, in a rudimentary way, a diplomat, taking pains to conciliate local nobility in outlying parts of the Beklan Empire. It was rumored that his agents had even travelled as far as Chalcon, the wild and mountainous country lying between Tonilda and Yelda, though of this there was no real proof. What was clear, however, was that Karnat the Tall was hell-bent on an effort, more determined than any made by his predecessors, to conquer and integrate Suba.
On the other hand, upon the sudden death of her father, the High Baron Kephialtar-ka-Voro, a young woman named Fornis became, at seventeen, the eristic ruler of Paltesh. Fornis was Kephialtar's only child and he, foreseeing disputes following his death without a male heir (for he had lived many years in the shadow of this virtually certain eventuality), had already made two attempts to marry her to suitable young men, either of whom he would have been glad to regard as his successor.
That Fornis should have succeeded personally in bringing both matches to nothing was matter for head-shaking in a country where daughters commonly did as they were told. At fifteen she had effectively subverted her father's choice of Renva-Lorvil, the eldest son of his most trusted commander—a young man, as everyone knew, ready to live and die for Paltesh. What had finally tipped the scale had been the puzzled, half-incredulous realization of the suitor himself—a likable, straightforward youth—that in some odd way he was afraid of the girl and unmanned in her presence.
She, for her part, while never saying or doing anything which could be singled out for rebuke, contrived to convince everyone that she despised Renva and found him ludicrous—and this even while seeming to obey her father's injunction to encourage and be pleasant to him. In time the sound of her detached, mocking laughter, simulating courteous reciprocity, became almost more than her father could bear. It was the young man himself who finally told Kephialtar, almost with tears, that he felt unable to go through with the business. Fornis's sustained front of self-possessed mordancy and contempt had defeated him.
Frankly, he had no wish to spend the rest of his life with her.
The second rejection was a far more dramatic affair. Fornis was formally betrothed to Eud-Ecachlon, heir of the High Baron of Urtah—a less attractive young man than Renva, but politically an even better match from the point of view of her father and of Paltesh as a whole, since in time it would unite the two provinces and thus strengthen both against Terekenalt. Eud-Ecachlon, though not a fool, was a rather stolid and insensitive young man; not at all the sort to be either thrown off balance, like Renva, by a cold and malicious girl or, conversely, unduly inflamed if he had happened to be offered a warm and passionate one. Fornis's father—by the standards of his own society kindly and humane—thinking that the girl's unenthusiastic attitude might be due to a secret fear of marriage or of sex, and half-expecting some sort of trouble similar to that with Renva, talked seriously to her about her duty as his sole heiress and about the desperate need of Paltesh for political security. Fornis, seeming to acquiesce, met her bridegroom and complied with all the customary formalities.
A week before the wedding day, during a night of full moon, she vanished, taking with her her personal maid, Ashaktis, and two young men from the crew of her father's boat on the Zhairgen. These lads had happened to be the watch on the High Baron's moorings for the first part of that night, but whether they were secretly in Fornis's pay and had already agreed to come with her, or whether she had suborned them on the spot, no one ever knew. By the time they were missed it was reckoned that the light, swift boat they had taken must have had a start of a good thirty miles. Another was at once dispatched to follow and find them, but everyone knew that unless they had come to grief, any serious hope of overtaking them—wherever they might be bound—was out of the question. Kephialtar's anxiety was greater than his anger, for he loved Form's dearly and knew that she must be sailing straight down the lower Zhairgen—several hours in full view from the Katrian bank.
Forms, however, did not come to grief. Six days later, having sailed nearly two hundred miles down the Zhairgen and then the Telthearna, she landed at the Ortelgans' sacred island of Quiso and sought sanctuary of the Tuginda and her priestesses—a request never denied to any fugitive woman not guilty of a grave crime. And here she remained for two months, while the scandalous news of her exploit was bruited from Ortelga to Urtah, Dari and all over the empire.
Before the end of those two months, Kephialtar was killed in a brush with the Katrians.
Fornis, an exceptionally strong, energetic girl, returned to Dari on foot by way of Gelt and Bekla; a journey lasting three weeks. She was escorted by Ortelgans, for although Ashaktis was still with her, the two young sailormen were not. Indeed, where they went no one ever found out; but it was commonly supposed that they must be afraid of the probable consequences of showing their faces again in Paltesh.
A few days after her arrival, having summoned her father's barons and commanders—all those who were not in the field against Kamat—she told them that she, the indisputable successor to her father, intended to rule Paltesh in her own right: she called upon them all for loyal allegiance and support.
Her announcement fell upon the province like hail in harvest. Everyone had hitherto supposed that if the girl had fled from her bridegroom and her wedding, it could only be because she had secretly promised herself to some other lover—an affair of the heart. Her tomboy reputation—though nothing scandalous was known against her— tended to support the notion.
There were those who, unenthusiastic about Eud-Ecachlon, were ready to take her part, despite the appalling effect of what she had done on relations between Paltesh and Urtah. Ah, well, but she'd shown herself a fine, spirited girl, now, hadn't she?—too good by half for that thick Urtan fellow. She'd displayed dash and courage: she was her father's daughter all right. Depend upon it, her heart was already fixed on some young blade of lower birth than her father would have welcomed. Good luck to him, whoever he was! But who was he? It took them some time to become convinced that nothing like this was involved at all.
That the people in general were ready to condone and support her if they possibly could was in large measure due to Fornis's appearance and style. From the age of thirteen or fourteen the girl had been strikingly—almost magically—beautiful, the talk and pride of the province, her fame extending to Bekla and far beyond. Her exquisite, rather pale face and wide, green eyes were framed by a great mane of auburn hair which actually seemed to glow with a kind of incandescence so intense as almost to transcend nature. People stood and stared at her as they might have stared at some magnificent summer sunset, or the migrant purple kynat returned in spring. Beauty of this order (which again and again had blunted the edge of her father's anger) conferred on Fornis a power beyond her years. It was very difficult to resist her. Doors opened easily and objections tended to dissolve.
Together with this, however, she had tastes and leanings over which her uncles—her mother's family—had often expressed misgiving among themselves. Kephialtar had been much engaged in campaigning and all the other affairs of a border province. His wife was a placid, indolent woman, not given to taking a long view or considering consequences. As a child Fornis, lacking brothers and sisters, had been left a great deal with the servants. From their company she had acquired a racy élan, a sly and cunning opportunism in getting her own way, a great belief in the value of intimidation, an appetite for material possessions and a general conviction that principle and responsibility were so much pretentious rubbish. Whatever else she might have acquired was as yet uncertain; but there had been a whispered rumor, never allowed to reach the ears of her father, that once, when she was fourteen, she had been seen with her maid on the balcony of a room overlooking her private garden, pointing and laughing as though at a play, while below her, on the grass, her groom supervised the serving of a sow by a boar.
In company she was free and bold and from an early age well able to converse and hold her own with her father's subjects of all degrees; but particularly with soldiers, huntsmen, tradesmen and the like.
Peasants on the whole she despised, preferring sharper performers and quicker wits.
When her father's barons had at length realized that in fact there had never been anyone whom Fornis wanted to marry, that she had no intention of marrying and seriously intended them to regard her as the actual ruler of Paltesh, there was grave disquiet. Inheritance by a female in her own right was unknown to Beklan tradition and custom. No female had ever attempted it. Yet since there was no written code of law, Fornis's design could not simply be declared invalid. If a man had daughters but no sons, then by custom the inheritance passed to his eldest daughter's husband. If his daughters were unmarried, then the male next of kin—his brother or cousin—had prior claim. As her maternal uncles were not slow to point out, there was no precedent for what Fornis meant to do. But among those with no personal interest the disquiet was scarcely less. For a girl of seventeen to rule a province herself, let alone a province at war, was of course out of the question. Who then was to be the real and actual ruler?
Fornis might, of course, have chosen a small executive council of five or six nobles and governed in her own name with their advice and support. If she had done this, she would probably (dependent upon results) have had sufficient baronial backing, despite her immodest audacity. But a responsible approach of this kind was altogether foreign to her character. Wayward, domineering and headstrong by nature, she enjoyed risk and excitement for their own sake. She also enjoyed provoking her father's former friends and flouting propriety and custom. At this time in her life she placed a high value on luxury and frivolous pleasure, and delighted in exploiting her appearance. Regarding this last, however, she was shrewd enough to realize that if once she gave herself to any man—whether in marriage or otherwise—its general power would diminish; and accordingly she took care that whatever older people might say about her behavior, no one could credibly allege that she had ever been loose in the hilts. Here, however—as will be seen later—her natural propensities helped rather than hindered her.
By the customs of the society in which she lived, she should have been reprehended and brought to comply with what was expected of her and of womanhood. This her uncles attempted, but what Fornis had realized was that while she might be advised, browbeaten, importuned, even entreated to act in a conventional manner, she could not be compelled. The province was hers and this could not be gainsaid or altered. At one point an attempt was made to keep her under house arrest until she saw reason, but this failed on account of her widespread popularity among the common people who, as soon as they knew what was going on, demanded her release.
Gradually a modus vivendi evolved. The truth was that Fornis, in asserting her own right to Paltesh, had never intended actually to govern—a task far too tedious and demanding for her taste. What she wanted was simply to do as she pleased and have the spending of as much money as she could get her hands on.
Left to herself, she would probably have beggared the province in five years and then sold it to the highest bidder. Her uncles, understanding the risk, finally made the best of a bad job. What this came down to was that they paid her a large allowance and governed the province in her name.
With this Fornis at first appeared content. But her uncles had underrated her. If they had known what she was capable of they would certainly, despite the unforeseeable consequences, have had her assassinated. For a time she amused herself with various extravagances in Dari, spending not only her own money but also that of any young noble or rich man's son sufficiently infatuated to give her more.
Her personal daring and bravado added greatly to her popularity among those with no responsibility in the province, and stories were always circulating of her audacious exploits; how she had joined in following up a wounded leopard in close country; scaled a sheer cliff for a wager; or plunged forty feet from a promontory into the Zhairgen.
After a time, however, beginning to tire of Dari, she started making trips to Bekla. Here, naturally enough, she soon became all the rage among the younger men in the upper city, where she bought a house and entertained lavishly. In reply to those who condemned the shameless freedom of her behavior—nothing like it had been seen before in the empire, where women of good family lived in relative seclusion—her adherents pointed out that at all events her chastity was indisputable and beyond question; she was just a fine, spirited girl. And since she spent much time in the company not only of young nobles but of influential and well-connected men such as senior army officers, most people assumed that her real intention must be to find herself a husband, one who could rule Paltesh with her or for her. In this, however, they were mistaken.
At this time the empire was enjoying greater prosperity than ever before, due partly to increasing exploitation of its natural resources and partly to the growth of trade to the southward, beyond Yelda.
The landed nobility were ceasing to be the only wealthy class. Fortunes were being made, particularly by those dealing in luxuries—builders, stone-masons, purveyors of slaves, and merchants buying and selling metals and jewels. Among the foremost of these was Sencho, who was seizing every opportunity to advance money and gain influence in the upper city. Needy and unscrupulous aristocrats were very much up his street, for what he was really seeking was the practical means to power.
Sencho had been in the same company as Fornis on at least six or seven occasions before she even became aware of him as an individual. When she did, she naturally despised him, since apart from being a merchant and a man of no birth—to say the least—he had never been a soldier, was neither a hunter nor an athlete and appeared to have no recreations apart from gluttony and loose women. Sencho, however, endured her contempt with the kind of indifference that a general on campaign might show towards severe weather. He simply took it in his stride. "You can despise and insult me as much as you like," his manner seemed to imply. "Spit in my face if you want to. That's quite immaterial to what you do not as yet realize to be our mutual interest; to what I have to seek and to offer."
Fornis became intrigued. She could perceive well enough—she had had sufficient experience for twenty girls— that whatever his designs might be, they were not sexual. She knew also that he was rich and cunning, while she herself was a feckless spendthrift with few ideas beyond luxury and the easy admiration of unprincipled people. (She received none, for example, from the High Baron Senda-na-Say, who pointedly ignored her and on public matters dealt direct with her uncles in Paltesh.) In the end she decided to give Sencho an opportunity to talk to her freely, and with characteristic effrontery invited him to supper with her on the Bramba Tower of the Barons' Palace, dismissing her maids at the end of the meal. Nevertheless, she learned nothing of importance that evening, nor for several meetings after. At this stage Sencho wished only to gain more of her interest and confidence while he made preparations in other quarters. He would speak out in his own time, when he was ready.
He lent her, however, a large sum of money.
He was ready in about ten months, towards the end of Fornis's next visit to the capital. She had run through twice as much as her uncles were prepared to give her for the following year, and was in debt both in Paltesh and Bekla. This she told Sencho in his own dining-room, but did not suggest another loan.
That—or something—she knew he would offer unsolicited if it formed part of his scheme; and else not.
Sencho, stuffing himself with peach pie and almonds, watched her closely as he listened; and then, perceiving that the time was ripe, at last spoke without reserve.
What he outlined—once it had become clear to her— made the blood beat in Fornis's head and aroused her so powerfully with its mixture of deadly risk, cruelty, wickedness and great gain that she almost offered herself to him on the spot. She realized, however, that this would merely earn his contempt. In the real world, appreciated by only a perceptive few, the enjoyment of bodies—zard and tairth— was a superficial matter. Anyone physically attractive was good enough for that. What lay between her and Sencho was something far colder and deeper. This real world she had now been invited to enter; if she chose. If not, she was free to decline, and know for ever after that her show of audacity and ruthlessness had been a mere act, a bluff which Sencho had called.
Sencho's proposition was that they should destroy the de facto government in Dari-Paltesh by first suborning the soldiery and then deliberately murdering her uncles and anyone else in their entourage sufficiently powerful to merit it. Thereafter Fornis would be able to live entirely as she wished and make use of as much of the provincial revenue as she liked. He himself would finance the preparations and provide the necessary bribes, which would need to be large. He also had, ready and willing to discuss the matter further, two suitable and resolute men—soldiers of fortune—who, with the cooperation of some of her own intimates in Paltesh, he felt would be equal to pulling off the necessary mutiny and bloodshed.
Fornis was fascinated by his contempt for humanity and his cold zest for gain through treachery and destruction. This, she now realized, was what she had unknowingly been seeking in flouting her family and outraging the orthodox. Those, though mere games of a child, had nevertheless served their turn by leading her to this present, clear vision. She had thought herself a hedonist; she had been wrong. She had been born for a more demanding, worthwhile vocation—the seizure and exercise of power.
Meeting Sencho's fellow-conspirators, her confidence grew. Han-Glat, aged about thirty, was a former slave promoted and freed after more than ten years' valuable service in the army, during which he had distinguished himself by showing remarkable ability in the sphere of fortifications and similar military works. Nothing would appear more natural than that he, now his own master, should seek still further advancement by active service in Paltesh.
The second man, Kembri-B'sai, was a compelling figure; the embittered younger son of an impoverished baron in Lapan. Huge, black-bearded and taciturn, he looked a warrior capable of wading through oceans of blood without turning a hair. A professional soldier with a good record, for some unknown reason he had nevertheless been disappointed in his hopes of advancement under Senda-na-Say, against whom he entertained a brooding hatred.
The plot took two years to come to fruition and was entirely successful. Fornis showed herself a model of cunning and duplicity. Having completely regained the confidence of both her uncles by a convincingly sustained show of contrition and reformed ways, she was able with little difficulty, on the night of the coup, to poison them both, at the very time when Kembri and Han-Glat, having brought their mutiny to the boil, were killing the Palteshi commanders in Dari.
In such affairs, one step tends to compel the next. Sencho and Kembri had foreseen this, though Fornis had not. Senda-na-Say in Bekla could seem to ignore much of the internecine quarrelling of the provinces, but this he could not ignore. The conspirators' night's work had seriously weakened the effective strength of the empire to resist Terekenalt, and in all probability only the onset of the rains (Kembri had timed the business with this in mind), putting an end to campaigning for that year, had averted an immediate invasion of Suba by King Karnat. Fornis was summoned to Bekla to give an account of herself and of the death of her uncles.
She declined to go, pleading at first illness and then, with some plausibility, the impossibility of travelling seventy miles over roads more than ankle-deep in rain and mud (though her secret messengers continued to reach Sencho throughout the winter). Nor was Senda-na-Say prepared to travel then, being beset nearer home with difficulties of a nature and gravity which his predecessors had never encountered.
The truth was that Senda-na-Say had first failed to grasp and then completely underrated the profound social change in Bekla brought about by the growth of trade and wealth. Years before, he had inherited a realm based on aristocracy and land tenure, but these were now of diminishing importance in a society increasingly full of moneyed commoners—many richer than nobles and actually able to buy them up—impatient for recognition and influence commensurate to their wealth and the taxes they paid. Not surprisingly, he and his associates had little time for people like Sencho and Lalloc; but less excusably, they were not ready to listen to more acceptable representatives of the merchant and craftsman class—men such as Fleitil, for instance. Whether they pretended or whether they genuinely thought that there was nothing to discuss, the effect was the same. They lost the confidence of their most affluent subjects, men well able to bribe servants to spy and soldiers to desert. Also turning against them was the newly-formed clique of Beklan nobles calling themselves the Leopards, several of whom had friends (and creditors) among the merchants.
With the return of the spring, envoys were once more sent to Dari-Paltesh, with a mandate that Fornis should return with them at once. For three weeks nothing was heard. Then came news more disturbing than any received by a ruler of Bekla in living memory. Fornis, having agreed with King Karnat of Terekenalt to offer no resistance to his occupation and annexation of Suba, in return for his promise to desist from further attacks on Paltesh, had publicly declared herself Sacred Queen of Airtha and, with Kembri and Han-Glat at the head of a considerable force, was about to advance on Bekla.
The office of Sacred Queen was a religious, not a political one. Traditionally, the Queen's role was to officiate as chief priestess in the temple of Cran and in particular, at the great spring festival held each year as soon as the rains had ended, to perform her ceremonial coupling with the god in the presence of the rulers, nobility, priests and chief dignitaries of Bekla. Nine months later, at the winter solstice, she gave symbolic birth to the new year in a ceremony attended only by her own priestesses and certain noblewomen of the city. A new Sacred Queen of Airtha was chosen by popular acclaim every fourth year, immediately after the ritual birth. Although the people usually acclaimed a well-born and beautiful girl of good family, and although the office conferred great honor, it had never involved any political influence, even for the Queen's male relatives. Very often, in practice, the Queen was content to leave the esoteric work and ritual of the temple to the professional priesthood, herself simply playing her appointed part on ceremonial occasions and notably at the two festivals.
Fornis's claim to be Sacred Queen, in a year when a new Queen fell to be chosen, was a most adroit move which had, of course, originated with Sencho and already been agreed to by Han-Glat and Kembri. Whatever her reputation, Fornis's beauty and nobility were incontestable. These she now turned to account. Having known in her heart for years—so ran her proclamation—that the god intended her for his Sacred Queen, she had abstained from marriage; and on this account had suffered injustice and slander for his sake. Now her hour had come, and she called upon all true devotees of Cran and Airtha to support her in her holy vocation.
Thanks largely to Sencho, Lalloc and others, there were many in Bekla ready to uphold her. As in Dari, the common people tended to idolize Fornis for her beauty and audacity. Several of the Leopards supported her, having already become her adherents in the upper city. What possible objection could there be, said these young men, to Fornis becoming Sacred Queen? The Sacred Queen, whoever she had been, had never harmed anyone, and anyway the temple and its priests could do with gingering up a bit. Gradually it was borne in upon Senda-na-Say first, that there were regiments in the army upon which he could place no more than doubtful reliance, and secondly that his only practicable strategy was to try to defeat Fornis before ever she reached Bekla. If she were to succeed in entering the city, her very presence would split it apart.
In the event, however, there was no fighting. Senda-na-Say, learning that Fornis had only just set out, concluded that provided he acted with the greatest dispatch he would have time to raise an auxiliary force in Tonilda sufficient to tip the scale. For generations past his family had had a large country estate at Puhra, on Lake Serrelind, and their personal influence and standing in Tonilda were stronger than in any other province. If he could cover the fifty miles to Puhra and lead three thousand men back before Fornis had reached Bekla, he would be able to add them to the loyal part of the army and with luck bring her to battle well out on the plain to the west of the city.
Kembri and Sencho had foreseen that Tonilda was a rope to which Senda-na-Say would cling when the storm got up, but to ensure that it would break in his hand proved almost beyond them. In the end they were able to do so only by paying more than they really wanted to give— though not in money. A high-ranking baron named Durakkon—by nature neither opportunist nor conspirator, but an idealist, critical of Senda-na-Say's regime—was persuaded to risk his life and all that he possessed to prevent Senda-na-Say's return from Puhra, on the promise of nothing less than the succession of the high barony of Bekla and hence the rule of the empire. In the event of his success it would not be practicable to break this promise, for he stood well among the aristocratic Leopards and was popular with the soldiery.
Senda-na-Say left Bekla in a forced march for Puhra on the third day of the month Prahn. On the night of the 6th Prahn Durakkon, setting out from Thettit with no more than thirty men, fired his house about his ears, and, as chance would have it, brought about his death beneath a falling beam. (It was at about this time that the child Occula, her father and his men reached Bekla from Herl-Belishba.) For several days Bekla remained in a state of general fear, suspicion and uncertainty. There was murder done on both sides, but lacking Senda-na-Say the army did no more than send out a half-hearted force which fell slowly back before the determined Kembri and Han-Glat, finally declining to give battle altogether.
Fornis, to her own surprise, reached Bekla unopposed, before the rumor of Senda-na-Say's death had been confirmed there; for Durakkon had closed the road from Thettit, sending word to her only. Once arrived in the city she published the news and at once sent for Durakkon to authenticate it.
Two of the army regiments—those of Urtah and of Tonilda—refused to serve under the new regime and, in the general confusion of the first days, left Bekla unopposed and returned to their home provinces.
The other six were taken over without resistance by the Leopards. Before the end of Prahn, Durakkon had been confirmed as High Baron of Bekla and ruler of the empire, Kembri-B'sai and Han-Glat being appointed Lord General and Controller of Fortifications respectively. Immediately upon the spring festival (which had been delayed) Fornis was acclaimed Sacred Queen of Airtha. On the same day Sencho-bè-L'vandor, now appointed High Counselor of Bekla and the Leopards' Chief of Secret Intelligence, took up residence in his new house in the upper city, formerly that of Senda-na-Say's brother.
The Leopard victory was complete. In time both Urtah and Tonilda renewed their allegiance to Bekla, once more paying dues and providing contingents for the army. Their entire reliability, however, remained open to grave doubt, and consequently it was upon these provinces that Sencho and his intelligence agents chiefly concentrated during the ensuing years.