Barrington Bayley - Star Winds

“He will try to buy it from me, of course,” Rachad commented.

“And you will absolutely refuse. You will insist on being allowed to study the other part of the book, and on discoursing with Amschel, who has attempted to follow its principles. Since the duke will not let either out of his control, he will have no choice but to invite you inside.”

“First he will want to be convinced that the book is genuine.”

“Then part with one page of it,” Matello replied with a shrug. “Amschel will authenticate it.”

Rachad nodded. “And if I open the gates of the Aegis—what then? Do you have it under siege?”

“Everything is made ready. It is under constant observation, and nearby I have a small force hidden underground. They will rush in as soon as the Aegis is opened. There are only paltry defenses within, I believe.”

He paused, while Rachad carried on thinking. “You’ll find the duke a strange fellow,” Matello said softly. “They say the Aegis is a madman’s world. What goes on in there is unbelievable.”

“What I can’t understand,” Rachad said with a trace of asperity, “is why anyone in Maralia should be interested in alchemy at all, with gold so common. Why is the duke so keen on it?”

“You echo my own views,” laughed the baron gruffly. “Yet philosophers still strive for the secret of transmutation, for whatever obscure satisfaction it gives them. As far as I can see it’s a perfectly useless exercise—although alchemy has been known to produce some interesting weapons of war. I once heard tell of alchemical bullets that speed up indefinitely after they leave the muzzle. If they miss their target, they accelerate up to lightspeed.”

“I have seen better than that,” Rachad said hurriedly. “When we journeyed from Earth we were attacked by alchemical monsters that grew from seeds.”

“Yes, so I’ve been told. Well, young man, can I count on you?”

“Yes, my lord,” Rachad said definitely. “You can count on me.”

“Good!” the baron said, with great satisfaction. He drank deeply from his flagon, then raised it aloft.

“To the opening of the Aegis!”

And he laughed so wildly and so long that Rachad felt chilled in his bones.

Leaving the hall, Rachad made his way through the dank-smelling castle until coming to the ladies’ apartments. Once he hid in a window recess as a servant girl chanced to pass by. Gazing through the panes, he saw that the amber sun had set. Castarpos alone illumined Arp, with a shifting, uncertain glow, while below the castle Corrum twinkled dimly.

When the way was clear he eased himself into Elissea’s boudoir, secreting himself behind the arras until she came in, when he leaped out at her, laughing softly.

Afterward they lay together on her large, soft bed. “I have to leave Arp soon,” he told her brashly.

She scowled prettily. “Oh? And where are you going?”

“On a secret mission for your uncle.” He smiled mysteriously. “It’s very important.”

She raised herself on one elbow to lean over him. “When will you be coming back?”

“That depends. Later I might go back to Earth. I’ll take you with me. We’ll live together in Olam…” He stopped, realizing that the boast was vain.

A bullet that carries on accelerating, he thought. He tried to imagine how it was given the necessary properties. Quicksilver for mobility, ether to provide constant impetus. An amalgam of quicksilver and ether was not the easiest thing to bring about.

He would ask the artifex Amschel about it, once he was inside the Aegis.

“Caught you!”

Leaping from his bed, Rachad seized hold of the intruder who was in the act of stealthily lifting the lid of a clothes chest, and dragged him to the window. In the pale light of Castarpos the burglar blinked, his face paper-like, his throat feeling the prick of Rachad’s copper-pommelled poniard. It was Suivres, the Duke of Koss’s agent in Corrum. Just as Rachad had expected.

Outside the dank attic room, the town lay sleeping, looking like a slumped forest, its streets winding upward to the castle on the summit of the hill. Contemptuously Rachad pushed Suivres from him.

“Thief! Thought you would make off with my property, eh? Easier than dealing honestly, isn’t it?”

Suivres cleared his throat, and looked about him until he spotted an oil lamp gleaming in Castarpos’s light. With commendable aplomb he reached in his pocket for a flint and struck a spark onto the wick.

He turned to Rachad as the lamplight filled the room, not in the least abashed. He was dressed in puffed breeches and a tight-fitting doublet. He had a dried, somewhat weary face, the eyes pale and restless.

“I merely wished to confirm that you do indeed possess the remainder of the text,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “No theft was intended. After all, so far you have only produced one page.”

“Which you have taken to Amschel to have authenticated.”

“True. And it is authentic.” Suivres looked around the shabby rented room. “Where?…”

Rachad grinned. “Not here. I’m not as stupid as I look. I have it in a safe place, never fear.” He looked at Suivres speculatively. “I see you did not have the courtesy to return my page.”

Suivres shrugged. “There is one aspect of this business that puzzles us,” he said. “What are you doing on Arp? There is no other alchemist within systems of here, that I know of. Hardly the place to come if you are really searching for the matching half of the book.”

“It’s simple enough,” Rachad replied instantly, his mind tumbling over itself for an explanation. “While I was in the Ragnak system I heard that someone here was making the same inquiries as myself. So here I came to follow it up.”

“Ha ha! That someone was myself, putting out feelers on the Duke’s behalf.” He straightened, and seemed to make up his mind. “Very well, then. I am authorized to take you to the Duke, with the book. We leave in a few hours. Where is the book?”

“How do we get there? How far is it?”

“Only a few light-years. We travel by horseback to where I have a ship hidden, some miles over the horizon.”

Rachad felt nervous now that the moment of departure was approaching. “How can I trust you?” he said irritably. “Once we are away from here it will be easy for you to have me murdered and seize the book for yourself.”

Suivres raised his eyebrows in an offended manner. “Really! You insult my liege-lord to think he could behave in such a fashion!”

“Really!” Rachad snorted. He had heard plenty about the eccentric duke during the time he had been living in Corrum. His name was mentioned in mumbles and whispers. There were endless tales of the perversions and grotesques practiced within the sealed-up Aegis, where none of the normal standards of mankind was observed.

“The stories rife about the Duke do not give one confidence in his conduct,” he pointed out stiffly.

“All of them exaggerated… Many of them, at any rate.” Suivres waved a hand dismissively. “The Duke is noble, a gentleman. Now what’s the matter with you? You were keen enough before.”

Rachad bit his lip. Perhaps his best guarantee of safe conduct was that he had managed to pass himself off as an adept. Very likely Amschel was as eager to meet him as he was to meet Amschel.

“All right. I’ll collect the book, and meet you in two hours.”

“Excellent. Join me outside the town, on the polar road. I’ll have steeds waiting.”

After Suivres had gone Rachad dressed himself and sat down for a few minutes to think. Far-off Earth seemed appealingly cozy and safe now that he had begun to immerse himself in the rough-and-tumble of Maralian society. Maralia was so big . And yet it was but one of many star countries. This part of the galaxy, it seemed, was a confusion of kingdoms, empires, principalities and even one or two independent republics.