The Towers Of Melnon

Chapter TWELVE

He did not.

In fact, he had only two days. That would not have been much time to find out anything new, even if he had been able to move freely around the Tower of the Serpent, and ask questions wherever he wanted to. In fact, he spent most of the two days in bed. At the end of the two days, he had finally brought Mir-Kasa to the point of satiation, exhaustion, and collapse, where she neither could nor would make any more demands on him. At least if his position in the Tower of the Serpent depended on his virility, it was safe.

But his position depended on a great deal more than that, as Mir-Kasa reminded him the morning of the third day. They had risen and were dressing in their best to attend the meeting of the Council of Wisdom. Mir-Kasa seemed more withdrawn and strained than usual, and Blade asked her if she were ill.

«Not in my body. At least,» she added with a wicked grin, «no in those parts of my body that you have not tried to wear out these past two days. No, it is just that I am concerned about today's council meeting. It is an open meeting.»

«How does that differ from a regular meeting?»

«As the name says. It is open to any member of the High People who wishes to sit on it and speak at it, about whatever may be in his mind. It gives the mass of the High People the notion that they have some influence. Usually it produces nothing except a mass of gossip and troublemaking. Fortunately they only come twice a year.»

«Couldn't you postpone this one?»

Mir-Kasa shrugged her bare shoulders, making her breasts wiggle in a most interesting fashion. «Such a cure would be worse than the disease. It would warn all the High People of the Tower of the Serpent that there is something I wish to conceal. No, we try to survive this one, as best we can. Two seasons will go by before the next one. And before two seasons more have gone by..» Her eyes showed what she did not care to put into words.

They finished dressing. With the Queen's gray-clad Guards escorting them before and behind, they descended to the level of the council chamber. There was already a considerable crowd in the listening chamber outside, waiting to hear the council debates coming over the far-speakers on the walls. The list of those citizens who wished to speak to the council was already posted by the door to the council chamber. Blade and Mir-Kasa inspected it carefully, and neither could hold back a sigh of relief when they did not find Nris-Pol's name on it.

«That is good, but not perfect,» said the queen. «He or someone of his party can still invoke the Law of Treason.»

«How is that done?»

«One proclaims that one wishes to put a matter of treason against the Wisdoms before the council. That at once puts one on the speaking schedule ahead of anyone else. Of course, if one brings a false accusation under the Law, one is forever dropped from speaking at the Council.»

«No doubt,» said Blade «But the council tends to panic at any matter of violating the Wisdoms. I do not imagine that there is much real inquiry into the justice of the charge, however mad it may be.»

«You are quite right, Blade. Is that the way it is in England?»

«Sometimes,» said Blade, thinking of witchhunts and the like. «But I have traveled in many other lands besides England. I have often seen what people in power are likely to do, so not much surprises me-or escapes me.» He hoped she might take the last words as a warning.

Mir-Kasa led the way into the council chamber and took her seat. Blade took his at her right hand. They waited-Blade trying not to yawn or twiddle his thumbs in boredom-while the rest of the council marched in with as much pomp and circumstance as they could manage. Many of them looked ridiculous, and Blade found himself now trying not to laugh out loud.

Eventually everybody ran out of ways of showing off and sat down, and the council actually got through the day's business. In fact, it seemed to Blade that some of the members were almost too concerned with getting through the agenda at a dead run. It was as if they were eager to get on to something else. Two of the women and the First Warrior seemed to be the most eager. Blade kept an eye on the First Warrior, trying to read the expression on the wrinkled face. Several times his eyes met the First Warrior's, and it was always the other man who dropped his gaze first. Blade did not like that at all. He decided to find a moment to warn Mir-Kasa.

But he did not get the chance before the day's agenda was completed. Mir-Kasa rose and intoned the formal words that declared the council open:

«Let all who have business before this open council come forward, in the order of their listing in the book of the council. Let their voices sound clear in the ears of the council. And let their words be heard and taken as wisdom for the better conduct of the Tower of the Serpent in accordance with the War Wisdom and the Peace Wisdom.»

She sat down and turned to look at Blade. He met her gaze and reached out to squeeze her hand under the table.

As their fingers met, the sound of shouts and crowd murmurings burst into the room from the listening chamber outside. Blade stiffened, and he saw the First Warrior do the same. Unmistakably, there was a look of triumphant anticipation on the old man's face.

Before Blade could do anything more than say «Oh damn!» to himself, the door of the council chamber burst open. Nris-Pol strode through, dressed in flaming red armor from head to foot, and wearing not only his two regular swords, but an extra long sword slung over his back.

«He is going to invoke the Law of Treason,» whispered Mir-Kasa. «The red armor is the traditional garb of a man who is going to make a capital accusation. It symbolizes his willingness to shed blood in defense of his tower-or of his accusation.»

Blade nodded, but his mind was not on Mir-Kasa's explanations. Inch by inch he was shoving his chair back from the table. He wanted room to run or defend himself, just in case. And as he did this, he was also cautiously checking both his swords, to make sure that he could draw quickly-again, just in case. He didn't know how far Nris-Pol might want to push this matter.

Nris-Pol strode up to the council table and thrust out his right hand in its red glove, straight at Blade. He held that pose until he was certain that all eyes in the room were on him. Blade had to admit that Nris-Pol had a fine flair for the dramatic, whatever his other faults.

«Councilors!» shouted Nris-Pol, in a booming voice that could have been heard all over a room ten times the size of this one. Blade saw the First Warrior wince as the blast went off practically in his ear, and grinned.

«Councilors,» Nris-Pol repeated, speaking now in a voice that was only normally loud. «I invoke the Law of Treason, that I may speak before this open council.» He looked at Mir-Kasa, as if daring her to deny him the right to speak.

If the idea ever crossed her mind, she rejected it. After only a second's hesitation she nodded, then said formally:

«It is your right by your invocation of the Law of Treason to speak now before the open council.» Her voice took on a slight edge as she continued. «And it is our right, the right of queen and council of Wisdom of the Tower of the Serpent, to punish you forthwith if you bring nothing of worth before us.» She took another deep breath. «Say what you have to say, Nris-Pol, and be quick about it.» That last sentence was not in the formal ritual, and Blade wished Mir-Kasa had not said it. If she was going to succeed in the revolution business, she needed more of a poker face. His own face was frozen into an immobile mask. He shifted his gaze from the First Warrior to Nris-Pol and back again, noting that neither could quite meet his eyes. Then he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest. He crossed them low down, however-only a few inches above the hilts of his swords.

Nris-Pol launched straight into his accusation. «I bring a charge of treason against the Queen's Steward, the warrior of the First Rank Blade-Liza.»

«What is the nature of my 'treason'?» said Blade. His voice was chill and remote.

«You seek to raise the Low People in rebellion against the-«began Nris-Pol. But the sentence was drowned out halfway through by exclamations and gasps of horror. They started as Blade had expected, with the First Warrior and his two women allies. But they were echoed from around the table, and from outside. In fact, there were howls of rage and bursts of cursing from the crowd in the listening chamber.

«Shut the far-speaker off!» snapped Mir-Kasa. «We can hear this charge without that pack of animals howling outside.» Blade could see sweat breaking out on her forehead, and she licked her lips several times.

«Begging Your Splendor's pardon» said a woman-not one of Nris-Pol's allies «-but the law of the open councils is explicit. Those in the listening chamber have the right to hear what the council says, above all in an affair of treason.»

«Very well,» said Mir-Kasa irritably. «But we do not have to hear their howlings and screamings. This is the Council of Wisdom, not a collection of children who must tremble at their parents' voices!»

Nris-Pol had wit enough to take the opening Mir-Kasa offered him. «Yes, ignore the 'howls' of the people of the tower. Ignore them, ignore me-and then someday soon Blade-Liza's plans will ripen, and you will hear howls that you cannot ignore. They will be the howls of the Low People, rising against you, seeking your blood, seeking to set all the War Wisdom and the Peace Wisdom at naught.»

Nris-Pol went on to describe in loving and obscene detail what would happen when the Low People rose against the High. He carefully avoided mentioning the details of how Blade was planning to bring about this rising and all its attendant horrors.

That was an intelligent move. It meant there were no specific points that Blade-or anybody else-could refute. There was only a growing mood of horror and disgust that Blade could now see on all the faces in the council chamber. Nobody would meet his eyes now, not even Mir-Kasa. It was as though he had suddenly broken out all over his body with some revoltingly unsightly disease. He remembered his own prediction about accusations of treason never being seriously and soberly debated. He wished he had not been so right.

The tumult in the council chamber and the listening chamber alike were rising higher and higher as Nris-Pol continued embroidering his accusation. An exploding bomb could hardly have been heard above the uproar, let alone a request to speak against the accusation. The expressions on some of the faces turned toward Blade were so savage that he checked his swords again. He wasn't sure that the howling mob outside the door wasn't going to break in and try to lynch him on the spot. If they did-well, there was going to be blood on the floor of the council chamber much sooner than even Nris-Pol was predicting. And not all of it was going to be Blade's or Mir-Kasa's.

He wished he knew what to do if there wasn't an obvious attempt to murder him in the council chamber itself. If he offered any sort of provocations, it would certainly set the mob outside into action. And under those circumstances, things might get so completely out of control that Mir-Kasa herself could die in the violence.

Blade shook his head. Whatever happened to him-short of a direct attack-he had to make sure the queen stayed alive and more or less in the saddle. It was no longer a question of maintaining his position and doing anything for the people of the Towers of Melnon. It was a question of the best way to stay alive until Lord Leighton's computer reached out from home dimension to seize his brain and twist his perceptions and snatch him back to England. So he kept his professional poker face on, as though it had been glued in place. Sitting upright in his chair, he contemplated the disorderly council and the now half-hysterical Nris-Pol like a king contemplating a mob of peasants at the gate of his palace.

Eventually Nris-Pol ran out of both things to say and the breath to say them. As his hysterical rabble-rousing died away, so did the hysteria of the rabble. Silence came down on both the council chamber and the listening chamber like a fog. Eyes swiveled toward Blade, and also toward Mir-Kasa. It was up to her now. Blade hoped devoutly that she would not stick her graceful neck out too far for his sake. That would be putting the pleasures of her bed before sensible planning for her revolution, as Bryg-Noz had feared. But Blade knew he could only hope. He did not dare say a word to Mir-Kasa. That would only make his enemies and hers more suspicious, more ferocious.

The silence dragged on, until Blade felt sure that his nerves were going to snap with audible pings, like overstressed wires. He took a deep breath and again fingered his swords.

Mir-Kasa's eyes met his briefly as she rose to her feet. Then they flicked away, and fell on Nris-Pol, who was kneeling before the council table, trying not very successfully to look humble.

«Nris-Pol, councilors,» she said. Her voice was flat and toneless, but Blade could detect the effort that amount of self-control was costing her. «A charge of treason of the vilest sort has been brought against my steward. I had thought him a virtuous man. Hold!» Her hand shot out, to still the rumble of protest that rolled around the room. «Perhaps he was once. But it is clear that he has wandered into evil ways.» The faces around the table relaxed-except for Nris-Pol's. His face split in a triumphant grin. «Therefore he is no longer worthy to remain in his office, nor among the High People. By the Peace Wisdom it is given to me alone to pronounce sentence upon him.»

She turned to Blade and her eyes again met his. «Blade-Liza, formerly Queen's Steward. I degrade you from among the High People. I declare that you shall be sent among the Low People, there to live or die as chance wills it. Never for all the remaining years of your life shall you again come among the High People. If so you do, your life shall be forfeit upon the instant.» She raised her voice to a shout. «Queen's Guards! Come forward, and take Blade-Liza down among the Low People!»