David Gemmell - The Swords of Night and Day

he said. ‘No more.’ In a sudden fit of anger he hurled the jar across the room. It smashed against the far wall, scattering seeds and dried leaves, which settled on the rug beneath the window. Light shone on them.

Memnon floated closer and stared down at the seeds, recognizing them. Sadness disappeared.

His spirit fled back to the flesh and he surged upright. Rising too fast he staggered and almost fell.

Usually he lay still for a while, until his body and spirit came into balance. He made it to the door of his room, and stood for a moment, holding to the frame and drawing in deep breaths. Then he opened the door and walked down to Landis Kan’s laboratory. A heavy weariness lay upon him. The last few days had been tiring, especially the long ride into the high country, where he had summoned several of his Shadows to meet him. Memnon did not like to be far from the comforts of a good palace.

In the laboratory his two assistants were still working. Patiacus looked up from the notes he was studying, then rose and bowed. Red-headed Oranin scrambled to his feet, dropping his notes. He too bowed deeply.

‘Have you discovered anything?’ asked Memnon, his voice soft and friendly.

‘Much of general interest, lord,’ replied Patiacus, ‘but nothing as yet of a nature specific to your request.’

‘In time it will become clear.’ He turned to Oranin. ‘It is getting late, young man. Go and have some food. Get some rest. It will be a long day tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, lord.’ The young apprentice bowed again, then backed away to the door.

After he had gone Memnon walked to Patiacus and patted him on the shoulder. ‘Sit down, my friend.

Let us talk.’

‘Yes, lord. What did you wish to talk about?’

‘The child died tonight. It was very touching. Tears and wailing.’

‘I am sorry, my lord.’

‘Yes. As am I.’ Memnon moved behind him, his hands resting on the man’s shoulders. ‘How is your knowledge of herbs these days? Do you maintain your previous interest?’

‘I have little time for such matters now, lord.’

‘Was it interesting working as an apothecary?’

‘It was interesting enough, lord. Not as fascinating as the work I do now.’

‘I would imagine not.’ Removing one hand from Patiacus’s shoulder, Memnon drew a small needle dagger from a sheath hidden beneath his shirt. Reaching round, he held the blade in front of Patiacus’s face. The man jerked back. ‘If this blade had been smeared with the resin obtained from abalsin stem, swagger-root, and corin seed, what would the effect be, were I to cut you with it?’

‘Death, my lord.’

‘Instant death?’

‘Convulsions, swelling of the glands in the throat and the groin. Excruciating pain. Then death.’

‘Very good,’ said Memnon, patting the man’s shoulder. ‘Excellent. You have a fine mind, Patiacus. I have always respected that. Good memory, and excellent attention to detail.’

‘You are frightening me, my lord.’

Memnon glanced down. Sweat was glistening on the man’s bald head. ‘Oh, do not fear, Patiacus. The blade does not carry the poisons I described. Though it is very sharp.’ Lifting the knife, he made a tiny cut in the skin of Patiacus’s cranium. The aide cried out, and struggled to rise. Memnon’s hand came down firmly on his shoulder, pushing him back in his chair. ‘We do need to talk, you and I.’ Sheathing the blade, he moved past Patiacus and pulled up a chair.

The assistant was sweating freely now. ‘About what, lord?’

‘About service, Patiacus. Loyalty, if you will. Whom do you serve?’

‘You, my lord.’

‘True, but not accurate. Do you not also serve the Eternal?’

‘Yes, of course. But you are my master.’

‘I am indeed. I am also infinitely cleverer than you. I say that not with any undue pride, merely stating a fact. Yet, despite my greater intelligence, I have been most foolish. The child who died, where did he live?’

‘On the coast. Lentria, I believe you said.’

‘Yes, I did. With whom did he live?’

‘A merchant, you said. Cotton.’

‘Exactly. Did you mention this fact to anyone else?’

‘Of course not, lord.’

‘Ah, a lie, Patiacus. Your eyes flickered as you spoke it. So, whom did you tell?’

‘I did not lie,’ answered Patiacus, straining to hold to Memnon’s gaze.

‘This time your eyes widened, showing the effort you were making to keep your eyes still. My dear Patiacus, you are not doing very well. How are you feeling?’

‘I am. . feeling very warm, lord. And still frightened.’

‘Can you move your legs?’

Patiacus glanced down, and jerked once more. ‘You have poisoned me!’

‘Yes, but it is not deadly. It is Shadow venom. Not in its pure form. Diluted. The paralysis will be that much slower. Also — and more important — you will be able to talk. You will not be able to move, but you will feel. There should be a tingling in your fingers now. It is the sign that your arms and upper body are becoming immobile.’

‘I don’t know what you want from me.’

‘There is a mixture of seed and leaf that you used for me in the past, to kill those who sought me harm.

You recall. The slow killer. The mixture could be boiled and administered within a stew, or even placed in a sweetened tisane, you said. It was almost tasteless, save for the trace of tannin. Death could take weeks, sometimes months, depending on the amount administered.’

Patiacus’s arm flopped out as he struggled to rise. His body spasmed and he slid from the chair.

Memnon grabbed the collar of his tunic and hauled him out from beneath the table. ‘Imagine my surprise, Patiacus, when I saw that the boy’s parents had been administering the same seed and leaf to their son, thinking it to be medicine.’

‘Not I, lord. Please!’ begged Patiacus, his words slurring.

‘Not you? Let me think. Someone wanted to kill a merchant’s son in a small town on the coast. In order to do this they decided to prepare the slow killer and convince the parents it was a potion for good health. Does that not seem to you to be overly complicated, Patiacus? If someone wanted the boy dead they could just as easily have stabbed him. The question then becomes, why did they not? The answer is fairly obvious. They wanted the death to appear natural. The lumps under his skin would be thought to be cancerous. Is the merchant so feared that his vengeance might be the reason for the complexity? I think not. And then, my dear friend, there are the others. All my Reborns have died in the same way. Can you account for that?’

‘I am your loyal servant. I swear it!’

‘You are beginning to irritate me. Let us move to the specifics of your predicament. I am going to kill you, Patiacus. There is no question of a change of heart. I am going to spend the entire night causing you the most dreadful pain. I shall use flame, a metal file, a hammer, and any other item that comes to mind. I shall rend your flesh and smash your bones. Is that clear?’

‘Oh, please, lord. I beg you!’

‘Begging is not going to change anything. Tell me why you have been killing my children, and I might kill you swiftly.’

‘You are making a mistake!’

Memnon smiled. ‘I am glad you said that. For an awful moment I thought you were going to tell me right away. You just lie there, Patiacus, while I fetch what I need.’

Gilden eased his mount up a steep slope, and halted just below the crest of the hill. He had no wish to be skylined and seen, so he dismounted and removed his helm before creeping up to the crest. When he looked over his breath caught in his throat. Stavut had been right.