Destiny's Queen 17

 

Chapter 17

 

The wedding was officiated over by Chrysandion Lightspear, Lightfather of Solos. Pollonis stood as groomsman to his son, as Alethos insisted on giving the bride away. Kaz was matron of honour, with supporters in Lelyn, Sjurgi, Thyella, Svargia, Vanda, Polia, and Hraazaz, who claimed her place as mother of the bride. Firri was chief flower-girl in charge of Alcmene, Chionea, and Iphianira. Alcmene had settled in very well, and was proud of her big sister, Rynn, and busy forgetting that she had ever had any parents but Hraazaz, who treated her reborn daughter better than the child’s own mother had done. The wedding was political in many ways; it showed the acceptance of shadow folk and an agreement with representatives of darkness. Chrysandion, not entirely used to officiating at weddings where gods and goddesses were participants and guests, looked as if he wished he had drunk more wine.  Polos, Mycota and Zog were there, as well as Harkon, though he was playing down his weather god aspect, Vulk too, was not advertising his apotheosis;  and a shaft of pure sunlight from Solos on the bride and groom as they exchanged vows showed he was taking notice. Protasion was also back from Selenopolis, as he, Evgon and Kuros did not wish to miss the weddings of their long-time friends and comrades in arms. Ralthur had stayed to lick the local Alethosi in Selenopolis into shape. It is a measure of the modesty of the young couple that the majority of those who turned out to gawp, and probably to hope for free food, did not know that they had destroyed the goddess of the bloodsuckers who were still being hunted down by Alethosi, mostly trógling, allied with Solosi or Pollonisi, who knew the glyph spells of sunburst or sunsphere where the bloodsuckers and their minions had found refuge in less frequented drain courses. These draincourses were mostly fairly miserable, as they were not used by the trógling for good reason; and the city fathers assisted the cleansing of them of undead as well as waste by regular flushing.

 

Most people in the city did appreciate the hard work of both Alethosi cultists, and the sun cultists, so when a supposed prophet turned up declaiming that the Alethosi were evil, and intended extracting swingeing taxes for their support, he got laughed at, or told that the cultists would be welcome to be paid.

However, there was magic in his voice, and enough people listened to make up an ugly crowd.

Pythas called a meeting.

“Have we got rid of all the undead?” he asked.

“There are a few nekrosti, decaying a bit at the time,” said Svargia. “I saw a few somewhat soiled ones flushed out with the last drain clearing. I think we got rid of all the bloodsuckers. The worst problem is displaced Selenites acting as footpads, in and out of the city.”

“Fine,” said Pythas.

He went out to the crowd of malcontents.

“As you are discontented with what we do, we shall no longer interfere in events in the city,” he said. “I have posters declaring this, which will be distributed throughout the city.”

He was greeted with a cheer.

“The fools think they have won some victory,” said Polia, grimly.

The posters were distributed. And some of the senior burghers came to see Pythas.

“My Lord Pythas, we are here to beg you not to withdraw patrols!” cried Sanlos, head of the haberdasher’s guild. “There are thieves and footpads!”

“Master Sanlos,” said Pythas, “There is a movement against us afoot, stirred up by someone who is almost certainly a glyph-riddler of the Trickster. They will not be persuaded without personal proof that we make life safer.”

“All very well, Lord Pythas, but what of those of us who see through his twaddle? Are we to be unsafe? That is scarcely fair, to punish those who are your friends and allies, and would not blink at paying a tax towards the maintenance of your temple,” said Sanlos. His confederates nodded, and made noises of agreement. “I have a chest of gold to pay you to resume work.”

“I cannot prevent members of the cult from accepting positions as bodyguards, you know,” said Pythas. “Private arrangements are between them and their employer or employers. And if that covered security checks on guild members who were not part of the silly squad, why, that would be part of the contract, and though it might cost some gold, it would be invaluable in teaching a salutary lesson, which mere resumption of service would not. And I recognised a haberdasher and two greengrocers in the crowd, gentlemen, so be sure and only provide protective cover to those who do not want the Alethosi out.”

“I see!” said Sanlos. “My lord, you are a truly great man in turning down a considerable bribe in order to make a greater lesson.”

“I’m a simple man of simple needs,” said Pythas. “And most of my best people are, as well. And they know better than to interfere, if contracted by you, in the troubles of others. It will be hard, but lessons sometimes need to be driven in with force.”

It took the week round, ten days, for the mayor of Mesolimnos to come to see Pythas.

“It is preposterous, my Lord Pythas!” he cried, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “The level of crime has burgeoned since you withdrew the patrols from the streets! You have an obligation to fulfil, and you should fulfil it!”

“Strictly speaking, good Pempios Zorb,” said Pythas, “There is no obligation for my people to patrol the streets at all. It is a courtesy which we extended when the Selenites, who had taken law enforcement upon themselves when they moved in, were evicted from the city, to relieve the militia. It was done as a favour. But we have been petitioned not to interfere in the city, so we have bowed to the voice of the populous.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pythas!” said Pempios Zorb. “We all know it’s the fault of that fellow Myopsos, stirring people up. I have him under arrest for being an agent of organised crime. Anyone with any sense knows he’s no more than an agent of the Trickster.”

“Oh, well done,” said Pythas. “Hold onto that at his trial, that he stirred up trouble against patrols in order to facilitate crime, not for political reasons. And any supporters, too, of course, questioned roughly about how long they’ve been affiliated to crime. If I was you, I’d send out tax audits on all his supporters to see if they are living on the proceeds of crime, as they want to support the criminals. And not a word about politics, the Trickster, or Selenites. It won’t be long before those in his thrall realise that they have been duped; and in the meantime, my people are collecting information about the criminal gangs operating, and once this nonsense has run its course, we’ll wipe them out.”

“Oh!” said Pempios Zorb. “I... I should have trusted that you had it under control. Only, the people are restive about why we haven’t crushed the movement against you, and....”

“But you are, my friend,” said Pythas. “You’ve arrested a master criminal who has been making life easier for his criminal friends, and you are going to investigate all his associates for complicity.”

A beatific smile spread across the face of the mayor.

“You have saved my face,” he said. “And when will you fall on these villains?”

“On Deathday,” said Pythas. “A religious celebration, as you might say.”

“Splendid!” beamed the mayor.

 

oOoOo

 

Kaz was in the market with Iphianira, when something made her look up; an acute sense of lack of truth slammed into her.

Looking over an upper balcony was Myopsos. Kaz let her eyes pass over him without apparent recognition. He looked relieved. Kaz completed her purchases, and headed to the town hall.

“I want to see Pempios Zorb,” she said.

“What makes you think the mayor will see some random trogling?” said the secretary on duty.

“For one, you ignorant lump, it’s trógling. For another, you can tell him that Glyph Lord-Priest Daykaz of Alethos wants to see him, and fast; and for a third, remember that trógling also pay taxes to the city and pay for your sinecure of a job which means you are paid to do more than sit around all day scratching your balls and dreaming of scoring with one of Phrodine’s sacred prostitutes,” said Kaz, crisply.

“You can’t talk to me like that!”

“Funny, I thought I just did,” said Kaz. “Now, go and see when Pempios will be free, and remember that Alethosi have short tempers and long swords.”

He sneered.

He stopped sneering when the iron sword appeared at his throat. The scent of the iron caught in his nose and he suddenly realised that this really was a glyph-level person.

“Now. Not tomorrow or next week,” said Kaz.

He backed away and ran.

“I hate these endless discussions,” said Kaz, to nobody in particular.

Pempios came out of his office at a scuttling run, expecting to find carnage, from the panicked description of his secretary. Instead, he found Kaz seated calmly in the secretary’s seat, playing patacake with Iphianira.

“Ah, Pempios, old boy,” said Kaz. “You really should have someone who is not fresh out of his tutor’s care and still tied to his mother’s apron strings as a secretary; unless the real secretary slipped off leaving the trainee on the desk? The idiot doesn’t seem to think you’d want to see a trógling, and can’t even pronounce it properly; I would hate to see him brushing off someone who came to report a crack in a sewer pipe so that nothing was done before it burst into the street, for example.”

“Er, yes, quite, quite, my lady,” said Pempios. “I... I’ll have him instructed properly.” He mopped his sweating brow. Rumour had it that this trógling was more than a glyph lord-priest and was a heroine; and some said, a goddess.

“Splendid,” said Kaz. “Now, we have a serious problem.”

“Oh, dear,” said Pempios. “Er... is it a problem for my office or one of immediate action?”

“We might as well start in your office,” said Kaz. “I do apologise for bringing my daughter, only I had her with me when I felt I should come directly to you with a report.”

“A fine little girl,” said Pempios, heartily, ushering Kaz into his office. “I was convinced she was younger than that.”

“She was born at the end of winter, but you know how it is with the children of gods, they develop remarkably quickly,” said Kaz. “Her father is hoping she will be holding a sword by this time next year.”

“Er, I see,” said Pempios. “I... I must have missed your wedding....”

“It was a quiet affair, between Alethosi,” said Kaz. “Alethos is a very private man, and did not want more than those closest to him to be involved; Pythas married us.”

“Oh! Er, yes, er, quite,” said Pempios, sweating more. “You... you must be the Daykaz then!”

“Yes, but I only dust it off for best,” said Kaz. “Now! I need to come to the point. I saw Myopsos in town. And I know he hasn’t come before the courts yet.”

Pempios mopped his brow on his already sodden kerchief. Kaz leaned over to touch it, and it was instantly dry, clean-smelling and cooled.

“I... thank you,” said Pempios. “He... I have the men in custody. He managed to set two guards quarrelling with each other and talked one of them into letting him out.”

“Oh crap,” said Kaz.

Pempios was so relieved that the little deity before him could be coarse that he laughed ruefully.

“I said much the same,” he said.

“I don’t suppose the little riddler will be where I saw him, I feigned not to recognise him, but in his shoes, I’d move,” said Kaz. “However, he did set off my truthsense as being a farrago of lies just by existing; so perhaps a combined operation with us and those Pollonisi who have the skill might flush him out.”

“And if not him, then other riddlers,” said Pempios. “It’s a good thought. I’d like to get him back under lock and key.  Why don’t you raise all the Alethosi capable, and I’ll go have a word with Chrysandion Lightspear?”

“I’d be grateful,” said Kaz. “Iphianira is getting fractious; it’s time for her nap. I was expecting to be back in the temple long since.”

“I remember when mine were that age... level of development. It’s good to know godlings go through it as well,” said Pempios.

“And equally true is how daughters wind their daddies round their tiny fingers,” said Kaz, cheerfully.

“You must bring her to meet my wife one of these days,” said Pempios.

“Delighted!” said Kaz, hoping it would not be too much of a trial.

 

Fourteen truth-tellers were mustered, and started at the city walls and worked inward. When two recognised that they were both sensing in an area which overlapped, they both blew whistles; and half a dozen converged on a single house, that of one of the weak-minded greengrocers, who made such a fuss about having his house searched for a known fugitive that they took him in too, as likely in cahoots with gangs of criminals.

This time, Myopsos was guarded only by those who could sense truth, to avoid being caught out by his half-truths and lies.

He finally got his day in court.

“I wish to protest a corrupt system that has been paid off to punish me for my beliefs,” he said.

Chrysandion, as judge, stripped his shoulders bare to show the mystically attached glyph of truth.

“Come place your hand on the symbol of truth in front of you, and swear that you believe the representative of a god of truth to be corrupt,” he said. “If you speak truth, I will be struck down; but if you deliberately lie, you will be struck down.”

“I... I was told this court was corrupt,” said Myopsos.

“You were told incorrectly,” said Chrysandion, coldly. “As to your beliefs, I scarcely see what that has to do with anything.”

“I am arraigned here for my worship!” cried Myopsos.

“Hardly,” said Chrysandion. “You are arraigned for aiding and abetting sundry gangs of thieves and cut-throats.”

“Huh?” said Myopsos.

“Did you, or did you not incite a crowd to protest the patrols of Alethosi warriors about the city?” demanded Chrysandion.

“It’s a calumny! I never did anything that was not my civic duty.... OW!” the truth glyph burned him.

“Yes or no will do; I can bring a number of witnesses who saw and heard you whipping up a crowd to fever-pitch,” said Chrysandion.

“It is necessary to show up... ow, ow, OW!” squealed Myopsos.

“Therefore, plainly you did incite citizens thus,” said Chrysandion. “And there can be no other reason than to aid criminal elements. There will be mercy given if you feel like revealing which of the criminal gangs you support, and where they might be arrested.”

“I have nothing to say,” growled Myopsos.

“Then I sentence you to five years as indentured servitude to make restitution, in a coffle of other brigands. And rest assured, we shall catch your confederates,” said Chrysandion.

He rightly guessed that the use of the power-draining slave bracelets used for criminals in indentured servitude would reduce the man’s ability to sow discord.