Empire of the East by Fred Saberhagen

Author:Fred Saberhagen [Saberhagen, Fred]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: A Tom Doherty Associates Book
Published: 1979-02-06T06:00:00+00:00

VI

Be As I Am

The corpse’s face had been shattered into unrecognizability, as if by a long fall onto rock, and the appearance of the rest of the body suggested that it had been nibbled by some kind of scavenger; reptiles, perhaps. The soldiers who had brought the body to Charmian—led by two officers who were not of her small group of plotters—stood by watching stolidly, as she attempted to make the requested identification.

She looked long at what had been the face, and at the heavy limbs that had once been powerful. They did not seem to have anything to do with Chup, but in their present state they might be his as well as not. Charmian was not squeamish about death—in others—and put out a hand and turned the ruined head. The build and hair color of the dead man were Chup’s, and the tattered black uniform might be. She could see no marks of weapons on the body.

Half a day after Chup had set out upon his mission for her, she had sent word to Som’s chamberlain inquiring whether her husband had been detained on any business. Word came back that nothing was known of his whereabouts. Half a day after that, the search was begun in earnest. Now another day later, this. Events were proceeding as she had planned.

“Where was this man found?” she asked.

“Wedged in a deep crevice, lady, in one of the deep caves. He might have fallen from a bridge.” The officer’s voice was neutral. “Can you make an identification?”

“Not with certainty.” She lifted her eyes calmly; no one high in the councils of the East would be expected to show much grief for the loss of any other. “But yes, I think this is the body of my husband. Tell the Viceroy Som that I am grateful for his help in searching. And if it was no accident that killed the Lord Chup, then those who did it are as much Som’s enemies as mine.”

The officers bowed.

And half a day after they and their men had gone, wheeling their gruesome charge upon a cart, other messengers came from Som, more cheerfully garbed and with far merrier words to speak—it was a summons for her, to appear before the viceroy, but it came couched in the welcome form of gracious invitation.

Soon after those emissaries also had departed, leaving her time for preparation, the wizard Hann sat watching Charmian. They were in a central room of her elaborate suite. Hann sat a-straddle of a delicate chair turned back to front, his sharp chin resting broodingly upon his wiry, somehow unwizardly forearms, crossed upon the chair’s high back.

The clothes that Charmian was to wear, close-fitting garments of raven black, hung thin and shimmering beside a screen. She herself, swathed in a white robe and soft towels and newly emerged from her bath, sat primping before an array of mirrors. She would make an imperious motion of her finger or her head, or merely with her eyes, and

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