Treachery
In the apartment of Pryak, far beneath the temple of the Sepharian god,
a number of priests were grouped about a long table. At its head sat the
high priest, Pryak; at his right was Orbar, second in command. The
balance of the stools were occupied by six under-priests, all stern,
silent men of middle-age, with that air of inflexible righteousness
which appears to be the hallmark of their kind.
Pryak, his close-set eyes of watery blue blazing with an inner fire,
rose from his chair.
"For many moons," he began, choosing his words carefully, "the loyal
servants of the God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken have been forced to bow
to the unjust commands of a hated oppressor. Now the time is at hand to
end this oppression. The way has been shown to me by our God; listen
closely, for the future of the priesthood in Sephar depends on how
faithfully my orders are carried out.
"This is my plan...."
For nearly an hour the high priest spoke without interruption. His cold,
crisp sentences seemed to explode in the listeners' faces. Twice, old
Cardon, grizzled from passing years of service for his God, half rose
from his stool, words of protest forming on his lips. But each time the
mad glare of Pryak's eyes gave him pause.
When the high-priest had concluded, he watched the faces of his
audience, waiting for his words to sink home. Much depended upon their
reaction.
Somehow the very audacity of Pryak's plan seemed to carry weight with
the under-priests. Smiles of admiration appeared on several faces; one
of the Council chuckled openly. Cardon, alone, seemed unconvinced; but
he knew well his chief would brook no interference once he had
determined to act.
Pryak was satisfied. "It is agreed, then," he said. "We meet in the Room
of the God at the hour named; the others will have their instructions
before then and all will be in readiness."
* * * * *
In the palace throne-room, Urim, ruler of Sephar, sat slouched in his
chair atop the dais. Despite the grief and worry from loss of his
daughter, Urim was determined his duties should not be shirked because
of personal sorrow.
The late morning audience was nearly over. Save for a few citizens and a
handful of guards attending the king, the hall was empty. In another
hour Urim could return to his private quarters.
A guard entered the room and moved directly to the foot of the dais.
Head bowed, he waited for permission to speak.
"What is it, Mosark?" Urim asked dully.
"Pryak, Voice of the God, is outside asking for an immediate audience.
With him are more than a score of priests."
Urim pursed his lips in surprise. What could have gotten into that
gabbling old fool to seek out one who despised him and his kind? Once a
year Pryak came to the palace with a group of his attendants to discuss
the rites held during the Sacrificial Games. It must be that reason
Pryak was here now, although he was much earlier than usual.
Best see him and get it over with. He was very tired; perhaps he could
sleep a little during the afternoon. Time passed quickly when spent in
sleep; by evening Vulcar should be back, either with Alurna or with word
she would never return. This uncertainty of her fate was what he found
unbearable; if only he could _know_....
More likely he would get the truth from the barbarian whom Katon had
recommended so highly. Everything about that young man emphasized his
fitness to cope with the wilderness and its savage life. There was a
keen alert mind behind those fine gray eyes--and a body well able to
carry out the dictates of that mind.
"What shall I tell him, Urim of Sephar?"
Urim shook off his thoughts. "Bring him in," he said resignedly. "His
men, too--let them all in. Except for their wagging tongues they are
harmless."
At Pryak's entrance, Urim rose and nodded briefly in formal recognition
of the other's office, then sat down again. The high-priest acknowledged
the nod as curtly, and came close to the dais.
The balance of the priests spread out in a rough half circle close
behind their leader. Urim noticed all were clad in the long,
loose-sleeved robes ordinarily worn only during the rainy season. None
was armed, it being forbidden for members of the priesthood to bear
weapons.
Pryak was quick to notice that which he had foreseen and counted upon:
the relaxed watchfulness and lack of discipline among the handful of
armed men attending the king. This, he knew, was due to Vulcar's absence
from Sephar; had not the hawk-faced captain gone after Alurna, Pryak
would have feared to put his plan into execution. Vulcar had always been
suspicious of the priesthood; twice he had warned Urim that Pryak was
overly ambitious.
"O Urim," began Pryak, "the Games honoring our God begin soon. Before
then I mean to show how mistaken you are in your ill-advised
interference with the laws of worship. It is I, Pryak, Voice of the God,
who shall say how He is to be honored. I must warn you, if you persist
in meddling, your God may turn against you and your people, sending
sickness to take its toll, and causing your hunters to return
empty-handed from the forests.
"Only a sun ago your own daughter was taken by the Hairy Man. Can you
say her loss was not due to your--"
* * * * *
The arch-priest was permitted to go no further. Urim's face had grown
steadily darker as mixed anger and amazement rendered him speechless.
But mention of Alurna brought strength to his tongue.
Voicing a cry of rage, Urim leaped to his feet. His words were loud
against the room's sudden hush.
"Silence, mangy son of Gubo! Must my time be wasted by your senseless
chatter? I have told you that cruelty has no place in our faith. Too
many times have I told you this; if you speak of it again, the God shall
have a new 'Voice'--one able to recognize my authority!"
By this time Tidor, the neophyte, had edged his way past the flank of
Urim's guards, slipping stealthily from sight behind the frustum. Here
he paused, drew a long stone knife from the folds of a sleeve, then
stole cautiously up the serrated side of the dais.
Tidor's heart swelled with pride. It was not every young, untried priest
who could be relied upon to carry out so important a mission. Pryak had
promised him much if he succeeded. Even if half those promises was kept,
Tidor would rank high among his fellows.
Crouching low, Tidor clutched his knife tighter within his fingers--then
silently and swiftly he sprang!
A swelling cry of horror from the guards halted Urim's ringing words,
and he whirled about as a white-clad figure closed upon him. Before he
could lift his hands in defense, a slender blade flashed evilly in a
brief arc before striking deep into his breast.
Death came instantly to Urim of Sephar; and his body rolled limply down
the steps of the dais, nearly upsetting Pryak as it struck the floor.
Tidor's moment of victory was short-lived. One of the guards snatched a
knife from his belt and flung it, point-foremost, with all his strength.
Tidor screamed once in pain and terror as the heavy blade sank hilt-deep
into his neck. Then his knees gave way and he fell face down across the
great chair. Urim was avenged.
And now the momentary paralysis of the guards snapped like an overdrawn
bowstring. Seizing their weapons they threw themselves at the priests
with the commendable intention of butchering the lot. But in place of
an unarmed and fear-stricken group of priests, they were confronted by
an orderly band of unflinching men, each with a long knife drawn from
the folds of his left sleeve.
The guards skidded to a halt in open-mouthed astonishment at this feat
of legerdemain; and Pryak, quick to take advantage of their baffled
state, scrambled atop the dais and cried out to gain their attention.
"Hold!" he shouted. "In the name of your God! Heed my words before His
wrath falls upon you! Urim is dead because he would be greater than his
God. Would you suffer the same fate?"
* * * * *
The guards shifted uncertainly. The words cut through the red curtain of
their fury, weakening the resolution to wipe out, in blood, the result
of their own negligence. But fear of their God--already strong enough in
man to be basic--stiffened their limbs and flooded their hearts with
indecision.
Had they a leader, someone to rally them to action, Pryak and his
followers would have been dead within seconds. But the wily arch-priest
had foreseen that, with Vulcar away, there would be none hardy enough to
oppose him in taking the entire city.
"Drop your knives!" Pryak put into his voice all the force and depth he
could muster. "Let those who are loyal to their God drop to their knees
and ask that He accept them into His service. Delay not, lest He strike
you down as unworthy!"
One by one dead Urim's warriors sank to their knees and bowed their
heads. Soon there was none within the chamber who remained erect, save
Pryak and the Council of Priests. This latter group had huddled together
close to the door during the excitement; only after all danger had
passed did they resume their habitual expressions of arrogance....
From his elevated position Pryak looked down with mingled elation and
disbelief at the many bent backs and lowered heads. Frantically his
crafty brain sought for some means of making this triumph final and
complete.
An inspiration struck him, then, and he lifted his hands high and turned
his face toward the ceiling.
"Let no one move or speak!" he commanded loudly. "The All-powerful is
speaking words of wisdom and guidance for my ears, alone. Let there be
silence while I receive His message!"
A shiver ran through the kneeling men. The God was actually looking down
into this room, seeing all that went on, and doubtless ready to blast
anyone foolhardy enough to interrupt His message.
For some minutes Pryak remained as motionless as a figure hewn from
stone. Arms and neck must have ached from their unnatural position, but
not the tiniest muscle trembled under the strain. At last his arms
dropped to his sides and his head resumed its normal position.
"Arise!" he called out; and when the now thoroughly subdued guards and
the under-priests had obeyed, he said:
"The God is pleased that unworthy Urim is dead, and suggests his passing
serve as warning to others as blind. He commands me to rule in Urim's
place, and orders His people to honor their God and make offerings to
Him as they did before Urim was king.
"And now let all leaders and subjects of palace and city be told I am
king; and at the time of the morning audience, tomorrow, I shall speak
to them from the palace courtyard. Go!"
When only the Council of Priests and Pryak, himself, remained in the
throne-room, the new ruler gave them their orders.
"The city is ours," he said, "and we shall make its people recognize my
power. Each of you will mingle with Sephar's citizens, spreading word of
how they will benefit by this change.
"Also you will tell of the lavish Games to start within the next few
days--far earlier than usual. Make them understand that even the
greatest city of all Ammad has never provided such entertainment as I
will give them. When they hear this, they will forget any resentment
they may hold toward us; for most of them care not who rules, so long as
the Games are exciting.
"Go now, and return here when darkness comes. Orbar, arrange for these
bodies to be removed and thrown to the beasts. Report to me when you
have done so; there are orders I want given to the palace attendants.
For the time being you are to serve as captain of the guards."