The struggle for authori.., p.35
The Struggle for Authority, page 35
He returned his gaze to Will. “Will Prentis! What an unexpected opportunity you present me with. What a messy spectacle I could arrange, with you as the centerpiece. Sweet revenge! It has been far too long coming, and I would be able to savor it to the full.”
He paused, and went silent for a full minute. “Delicious as it might be, I have a far better idea. A man like you offers unusual potential. You and I are going to become very well acquainted. You have served your king loyally, I’m sure.” His lips peeled back in a vague semblance of a smile. “Who knows, though? Perhaps even the most loyal of subjects can undergo a change of perspective. I dare to imagine that you might gradually find yourself coming around to my point of view.”
Agon gazed at his captive, a smirk of satisfaction on his lips.
Will kept his face impassive.
Agon laughed. “I see you are skeptical, but you may yet surprise yourself.”
“Guards!” he called. Several men clustered around his throne snapped to attention. “Tie this man’s hands behind his back. Tie them securely but loosely, and don’t harm him. I merely want to ensure that he can’t interfere with me in any way.”
He turned to Lady Ona. “You are dismissed,” he said coldly, flicking his fingers toward the entrance of the tent.
Lady Ona looked as if she was sorely tempted to speak, but she held her peace and withdrew.
It was perfectly obvious to Will what Agon had in mind. As he looked at the king he noticed his hand straying to a hidden fold in his clothing. No doubt the Stone of Authority lay secreted there.
He had escaped the web of Lady Ona, only to fall into the hands of a ruthless tyrant with the power to magically bend the wills of other people to his own.
What could he do to resist? The scroll had offered no insights whatever, but there had to be a way.
He wasn’t going to stand by and allow himself to be transformed into the compliant puppet of a monster. He would rather die.
37
After four harrowing days in close proximity to the Rogandan king, Will had long since learned to stay well clear whenever Agon worked himself into one of his rages. It happened all too frequently. Ennawi usually bore the brunt of it.
Agon’s eyes bulged, and the veins in his neck stood out as he harangued his mute slave. “I should have reached Arnost long ago. Why am I thwarted at every turn?”
In spite of his fury, he kept his voice low, apparently well aware that he could expect no privacy in his royal tent, surrounded as it was by dense clusters of the tents of his servants.
As usual, Ennawi showed no reaction to the tirade. Will had long since ceased to be amazed at the slave’s ability to remain unresponsive.
Will had observed that Agon spoke to Ennawi as if they were holding a conversation, and that the king seemed to say whatever was on his mind. Sometimes when Will was standing nearby, Agon whispered conspiratorially in the slave’s ear. Ennawi apparently suited the king perfectly—he was the ideal listener, and he was the soul of discretion. The king’s secrets were safe with a man who could neither speak nor write.
Will had met Ennawi on the first day of his imprisonment with Agon. It was far from obvious how a slave without hands managed to feed himself, and Will was not surprised when he caught his first glimpse of the slave’s carer. The king had disappeared off on some errand, and Nistinaa soon arrived to feed and tend to Ennawi as usual. Seeing Will in the room, she had observed him doubtfully for a while before apparently deciding she had little choice but to take the opportunity presented by the king’s absence.
Since then he had contrived to speak to her several times, and she had gradually relaxed in his presence. Ennawi’s situation appalled him, and he told her so directly. It left him speechless when she told him the slave had been enduring such abuse from Agon for years.
The king spoke, attracting Will’s attention once more.
Agon had finally mastered himself. “For all the frustrations, a new source of delight will soon present itself,” he told Ennawi. “As I have already told you, I have at last found a use for the Aen-ur. I won’t need to wait much longer now.” A gloating smile played across his lips.
Will had heard no previous mention by the king of the secretive people who had offered their help, and Agon’s words made him uneasy.
Some part of him recognized that even a couple of days ago this information would have chilled him to the bone. Others before him had come under the influence of the Stone of Authority, and he wondered how many of them had understood exactly what was happening to them. Perhaps his situation was unique. But it made no difference. He had been resisting the power of the Stone of Authority with all his might, but nevertheless he knew he was slowly succumbing to it. The process was already well advanced. Agon’s agenda, not to mention his moods and attitude, still seemed sour and distasteful to Will, but he felt vaguely aware that everything about the king should be inspiring a much stronger negative reaction from him.
Through the fog that seemed to be clouding his volition, Will sensed that Agon’s reference to the Aen-ur was significant, and that something needed to be done, and done quickly, to protect them.
If Thomas could get a glimpse of Agon, all would be revealed. It suddenly occurred to him, though, that there might be another way.
It hadn’t taken long for Will to decide he could trust Nistinaa, and they often conversed quietly whenever they found an opportunity. Eventually he gathered his courage.
“Is there any way you could get a message to my friends?” he whispered.
Immediately she became guarded. “I will do nothing to put Ennawi at risk,” she told him firmly.
He made no attempt to press her. He would need to choose the right moment.
There was little he could do other than to bide his time.
Haldek had positioned himself as near to the royal tent as he dared, contriving to look busy while surreptitiously observing the people who came and went from Agon’s presence. To a casual observer he was just another Rogandan soldier. Thanks to Rhillyon’s men he had been clad and equipped appropriately—everything he was wearing had been pilfered from unwary guards.
He had taken fearful risks to get near to Will. After watching the area for some time he had boldly claimed the guard duty for a supply tent located quite close to Agon’s own. His years of sentry duty allowed him to put in a very creditable performance. So far he had not been exposed.
He soon came to recognize Nistinaa as a frequent visitor to the royal tent. He often caught glimpses of her through the entrance to the royal tent, and more than once he saw her whispering with Will. Their body language suggested they were comfortable in each other’s presence.
Mustering his courage, he decided to speak to her next time a suitable opportunity arose. In the end he didn’t need to wait long.
She had been hurrying past when he called softly to her. “Excuse me! Can I speak with you?”
Startled, she paused long enough to peer in his direction. When it became obvious that she wasn’t planning to stop, he decided to fall in beside her.
“Could you give a message to the man you were talking to in the tent? His name is Will Prentis.”
She looked at him mistrustfully.
“I’m a friend of his.” Conscious of the risk he was taking, he nevertheless decided he had little choice but to trust her. “All I want you to do is to let him know that I’m nearby. Could you do that please?”
The suspicious look on her face gave him little hope that she would follow through.
“Just tell him that Haldek spoke to you,” he said.
Then she was gone.
Haldek returned to his guard duty. Knowing that the woman could turn him in whenever she chose, he found it almost impossible to relax. It was therefore an enormous relief when she quietly approached him the next evening, jerking her head toward a quiet corner behind a nearby tent.
“I told him,” she said. “He wants to know what you’re planning.”
Haldek exhaled in relief. “We want to get him away from here as soon as possible. Come to me again tomorrow—I’ll let you know the details then.”
She left after giving him a brief nod.
That night and the following day were extraordinarily tense for Haldek.
The king’s camp was surrounded by sentries, but with no one expecting trouble the guards were unusually lax. Before Haldek first entered the camp, he’d carefully monitored the approaches from the forest, finally selecting a location where the guards appeared to be especially inattentive. Since that time he had been safely using the same entry point to come and go from the forest.
In preparation for getting Will, Haldek first returned to the forest and arranged for a party to be on hand to spirit them away. He then returned to the camp and found his way to a cluster of supply tents.
The supply tents were more heavily guarded than the camp itself. Knowing the reputation of Rogandan soldiers, Haldek didn’t find it particularly surprising.
To extract Will he needed to get one of the sentries drunk, and to achieve that he needed a wineskin. Wineskins were the most desirable of prizes for thieves, so the penalties for anyone caught stealing them had always been severe. Nevertheless, he decided to steal more than one to allow for contingencies.
Two hours stretched to three as he stood near the supply tents watching for an opportunity. By the time the afternoon had almost worn away, he was reaching a point of desperation.
He began to wonder if he should have instead asked the Aen-ur to supply him with wineskins. There wasn’t time to go back now though, and their wineskins might be very different from the ones supplied to the Rogandan army. He couldn’t afford to rouse suspicions.
He was almost ready to abandon hope when a large group of men came to collect supplies for the evening meal of the king, Lady Ona, and other senior leaders. They rummaged through the tents noisily, eventually leaving with a large quantity of food and alcohol.
Once they had gone, Haldek decided to risk everything on a gamble. Waiting until they were well out of sight, he hurried toward the supply tents, approaching from the direction in which they had gone.
“They didn’t get enough of the good wineskins!” he told the guard. “The king will have our hides if we don’t get it right!”
After looking doubtfully at him for a moment, the guard shrugged and waved Haldek to one of the tents. Wasting no time, Haldek dashed into the tent and carefully selected the three most expensive looking wineskins he could find. Then he hurried away, waving his thanks to the guard as he headed back the way he had come.
The moment he was out of sight he came to a halt. His heart was pounding, and he was panting from nervous energy.
It was too soon to relax though. His next task was to steal a couple of dark cloaks with hoods. Fortunately that proved much more straightforward. After hiding the cloaks near the king’s tent, he returned to his guard duty and waited for darkness.
Not long after sunset, the woman appeared again, just as he had requested. Having instructed her to send Will to the same current location in four hours, he slipped away.
His final task was to deliver the wineskin to the guard at the perimeter of the camp. He knew from experience which guard should be on sentry duty that night. Haldek had previously spun him a yarn about hunting in the forest, even returning with a small boar on one occasion to support the deception. After a few days Haldek had come and gone often enough that the sentry simply ignored him.
On this occasion Haldek wanted to make sure the man was thoroughly inebriated when the time came to slip out of the camp with Will. One wineskin should be more than enough to do the job.
When he approached the sentry post, Haldek was shocked to find no sign of the regular guard. Another soldier was there in his place. Dismayed at the setback, he backed away to consider his options. Time was not on his side.
A bold approach had secured him the wineskins, and he decided to risk a final gamble.
Staggering up to the sentry with the three wineskins clutched to his chest, he peered at the sentry through blinking eyes. “Wheresh the king’s tent?” he slurred.
The sentry snorted. “That way,” he pointed. “From the state you’re in, you’d better stay well clear of it.”
“Thank you, sho much,” he replied.
Spinning unsteadily in the direction indicated, he lurched forward, apparently failing to notice that one of the wineskins had slipped from his grasp and fallen to the ground.
Haldek stumbled on until he was out of sight, then he crept back to observe the sentry. To his relief the man had already started on the wineskin. It was now simply a matter of time.
Hope began to stir for Will when Nistinaa told him about meeting Haldek. He assured her that Haldek could be trusted, and after some initial hesitation, she agreed to meet with him again.
Time seemed to crawl while Will waited for the next contact to take place. He sensed that his independent will was slowly ebbing away, and the urgency of escaping from Agon had become pressing. It needed to happen soon if he expected to leave with any of his volition still intact.
At the same time, he found himself increasingly struggling with any idea that required him to go behind Agon’s back. A part of his being had slowly retreated to a hidden inner sanctuary, and that hidden core affirmed the importance of removing himself from the presence of the stone. But another part of him was bent toward Agon and his priorities, and that part had been growing ever stronger.
The war within him continued to rage unchecked, but his independent core somehow managed to rise up to assert itself. It allowed him to reach an agonizing decision.
The next time Agon left the tent, Nistinaa appeared again. “I met with Haldek again!” she whispered excitedly. “They’re going to try to get you away from here—tonight. They told me the details. You need to...”
“No!” he replied, cutting her off. “Don’t tell me any details. It’s important that I don’t know them.”
As she stared at him in bewilderment, he dug deep, drawing upon every reserve he could summon, willing himself to respond only out of the inner core of his being, weakened though it was.
“I’m going to explain to you what needs to happen,” he told her. “You and Ennawi will be the ones going with them, not me. Follow their instructions. As soon as you are safe, find Thomas Stablehand and let him spend time with you, and especially with Ennawi. Thomas Stablehand—don’t forget! Nothing else matters.”
She looked back at him wide-eyed.
“Do you understand?” he insisted.
She nodded.
“We must not speak of this again.”
She opened her mouth to protest, and he shook his head emphatically. “It’s already too late for me,” he told her with a frown, turning away.
The hidden core of his will had chosen to abandon his own interests, favoring instead a path that might save the Aen-ur. And the remnant of his independent self was not idle even now. Working tirelessly, it positioned the interaction with Nistinaa as a matter of no relevance to Will’s conscious awareness. I am not responsible for these two people—they don’t answer to me. Whatever they might be doing is none of my business. I must be careful to ignore them. Any involvement from me would be an intrusion.
Nistinaa slipped away, and Will felt a sudden need for fresh air. Following her to the entrance of the king’s tent, he paused, peering out with uncharacteristic timidity.
Lady Ona stood nearby, watching the tent. Her eyes narrowed at once when she saw Will.
He groaned. The king had banned Lady Ona from both his tent and his presence as soon as he had Will in his power. Agon had no intention of sharing his prize with anyone.
She had obeyed, but more than once he had seen her prowling nearby like a lioness, ready to pounce the moment her prey came within reach.
In his reduced state he simply couldn’t face her—he could no longer summon the resources.
His head began to pound, and reaching up unsteady hands, he ran them through his hair. Then turning away from the relative freedom of the open air, he stumbled back to the suffocating confinement of his prison.
38
“Where’s Will?” hissed Amyra. She had barely been able to restrain her eagerness as the moment of his escape approached. Now there was no sign of him. Her brows were furrowed in vexation.
The nearest sentry was drunk and snoring loudly. Haldek had slipped past him without difficulty, and not one but two people had followed him—a woman and a younger man. There was no sign at all of Will.
The woman stared back at Amyra anxiously. “He wouldn’t come. He insisted on sending us instead. I am Nistinaa, and this is Ennawi.” The man she pointed to was completely unresponsive.
Amyra glared at her suspiciously. “Did you pass on Haldek’s message?”
Nistinaa nodded, but Amyra wasn’t at all convinced.
“She’s telling the truth,” Thomas whispered insistently. “I know why Will sent them.”
Rhillyon drew closer. “We can’t stay here,” he told them. “We’ll need to find a way to rescue Will later.”
He led the little party swiftly away, toward the safety of the forest. They didn’t pause until they were far from Agon’s camp. Ennawi had to be helped every step of the way. In the end a soldier stood on each side of him and took an arm, guiding him forward and even carrying him at times.
When they finally stopped, Nistinaa faced them, tears glistening in her eyes. “Thank you,” she said. “I never dared allow myself to believe this day would ever come.”
A look of determination came over her face. “I made a promise to Will. He wanted us to meet with Thomas Stablehand. He said that nothing else mattered.”
Amyra glared at the woman. How could meeting with Thomas possibly be more important than freeing Will?
