The marble steps that rose up to the main entrance of the Citadel were jammed with angry, confused, and unwashed bodies. Wedged near the front row, her head jammed distressingly close to the armpit of a drunken Ordunese, Delaney envied those tall enough to catch a cleansing breeze.
It had taken every ounce of courage she could muster to reenter the city of Orduna. Not only was she a marked woman but she had begun to view the place as a giant cesspool, a civilization meltdown. Just the sight of its dingy, crumbling, and overgrown outer walls made her sick.
On the other hand, the plan was going well--better than she had dared hope. Riding high on the rush of her success with Stargo, she had charged into the second part of her mission with gusto. While the challenge remained daunting, to say the least, this was something she could do! The mission called for persuasion, and persuading people to do what she wanted was one of her pet hobbies. She often excelled at it, and even when she did not, she enjoyed the attempt.
Her mission was to get the jump on the enemy and incite the Ordunese masses to storm the Citadel before Devil Throat and his thugs were ready. Dhayelle’s job was to get Ehiloru out of harm’s way until the mob arrived. Timing was crucial to the strategy, and the only means of synchronizing their schedules was the warning from the Meshoma.
The moment she had heard the faint drum beats, she raced into the streets of the city shouting: “Ehiloru is a prisoner in the Citadel! They’re going to kill him! Hurry!”
For a few minutes, the attempt appeared to be fizzling like a wet matchstick. What she had failed to realize was that the admiration felt for Ehiloru by those she had most closely encountered--the Tishaarans, Dhayelle, and Stargo, was not widely shared by the populace. Those who took his message to heart recognized the strength and honor and wisdom in the man and respected him for it. But such persons were a distinct minority. The prophet provoked more annoyance than affection in many parts of the realm, particularly among those who regarded religion as nothing more than a moralistic intrusion on their pursuit of happiness. Orduna was currently a hotbed of such feeling, particularly the neighborhoods in which she was recruiting.
So while Delaney produced raised eyebrows of curiosity and some mild outrage at the audacity of their despised rulers, no one was inclined to do anything about it. With every failure of her pleas, her performance grew more dramatic.
“Get your sorry butts up to the Citadel! Now!” she shouted. “Take your city back! Are you going to shrink in your closets like mice, leaving Ehiloru to the executioners? Wake up, Ordunese, wake up! Take back your city! Save the prophet! Hurry, while there’s still time, while he’s still alive!”
She might as well have been selling newspaper subscriptions to an illiterate populace.
“What is wrong with you people!” she yelled in exasperation.
No one took her seriously enough to consider that a challenge.
Tears welled up in her eyes. “Fine! You people can all rot in hell!” She stormed away, heading for the Gates of Orduna.
She could not face failure like this. What more could I do for these idiots?! The city and all the realms are crumbling and no one cares. And they call the Morps stupid! Fine! Get what you deserve. I did my job; I’m out of here!
She had no clue what she would do now. Since their plan had failed, anyone involved was doomed. Ehiloru would be dead in minutes; Dhayelle as well. Windglow was stuck in the Citadel. Stargo would be hung as a traitor for conspiring with her. Maybe she could find the Meshoma. and hang out with them. They were the only people around who seemed to have any sense.
Before she got far, however, a voice cried out, “That’s her! From the store!”
During the days in which she had been out recruiting Stargo to the cause, whispers of two mysterious and exotic sirens had grown into full-scale rumors, distorted and magnified by male adolescent fantasies. The story had spread of the brazen foreign beauties who had shed their clothes in public at the clothing store and then mysyeriously disappeared. In a society in which modesty was an assumed virtue even among those who exhibited no other, and the existence of sex was never openly acknowledged, news of this breach of public sensibility created a wildfire of prurient interest. In some versions of the story, a number of suggestive activities had been included in the performance; the result of which was that Delaney and Shaska had become notorious celebrities.
Shouts rang out, doors and windows opened. Ordunese dash out into the streets. Within moments, Delaney was surrounded by a huge and receptive audience, made up largely of males.
Oblivious to the stories and believing that indignation had at last found dry tinder in the soul’s of the people, Delaney renewed her plea with confidence and passion. Those who had easily dismissed the yammerings of a strange girl in the street, now paid close heed to her words. Intoxicated by the charismatic force of her legendary status, they nodded in sympathy at her despair, and felt compelled to offer their services to alluring damsel in need. Not one soul had bothered to ask who she was and how she happened to know what she claimed to know.
The mob began to attract the curious from all directions, including those from neighborhoods where Ehiloru was admired. Fanned by Delaney’s demagoguery, anxiety and indignation burst into a wildfire. “Quick, to the Citadel!” she shouted. “Save Orduna!”
“Save Orduna! Save Orduna.”
The surging, jostling throng that shouted those words now seethed on the steps before the massive stone pillars of the Citadel. Having led them there, Delaney suddenly developed a severe case of stage fright. Against all odds, she had done all that was asked of her. Now what? They expected her to lead the charge? I don’t think so!
“Get in there!” she screamed, waving them forward into the shadow of the massive entrance pillars. “Quick, before it’s too late!”
As the mob surged forward, she wormed her way to the side to let them pass, hoping to find to a more pleasant vantage point from which to see the mob break through the frightened screen of guards. The mass of humanity, though, was too dense.
Only by standing on tiptoes and craning her neck could she see the landing at the top of the steps. Onto that shrinking and besieged platform strode Mercuto, dressed in a green, satin robe. Assuming a heroic stance by a deeply grooved granite pillar, he held up his hand for silence. This provoked a deafening howl from the incensed mob.
Survival instincts warned Delaney to stay out of Mercuto’s sight, and yet she had to keep the crowd’s raging energy stoked. Pressing behind a large Ordunese, she screamed in a voice now growing hoarse, “Where’s Ehiloru? Where’s Ehiloru?”
Emboldened by the power of their combined lungs, the crowd joined in the chant. “Where’s Ehiloru? Where’s Ehiloru?”
Both the sight and the smell of the crowd warned Delaney that she may have made a mistake, one that she could hardly have avoided. The majority of the rabble was from the decaying wards of the near north side into which she had wandered after being abandoned by the Tishaarans. Those were the only streets she had known well enough to cover quickly without getting lost. Had she been more familiar with the city, she might have concentrated her efforts on the more respectable neighborhoods of the city and recruited a more responsible, discerning army. But she could scarcely find any around her who were sober, or bore the mark of learning for which Orduna had once been famous. If it were true, and she did not doubt it, that mobs without strong leaders take on the characteristics of the lowest common denominator, she had unloosed a very dangerous crowd, indeed.
As she struggled for breath among the Ordunese, wondering if any of them understood the concept of hygiene and how they had managed to consume so much liquor so early in the day, a new rumor now swept through the crowd, passed on in hushed, shocked tones.
“They’ve killed him! It’s too late! Ehiloru is dead!”
The report robbed her of what little air she could find in that pocket of fermented humanity. She gave no thought to the consequences this news posed for the realmlands, or to the fact that it ruined the plan for which she had labored so hard. Delaney could grieve but one thing at a time. All that mattered at the moment was that, despite her efforts, she had been too late to save the kind, honest man who had saved her from the brutal pits of Rushbrook.
“No, it’s not true!” she blurted out. But that only prompted more emphatic and enraged assurances it was. The crowd’s rage was growing by the moment, and their front ranks began to push back the line of guards.
So focused was their anger on the denizens of the Citadel that few of them noticed the brown-coated cavalry of Rushbrook that quietly and gingerly worked their way forward along the edge of the crowd. Delaney saw them and felt her hopes rise. With the expectation of success evaporating before her, she had started to feel terribly alone again, and under the circumstances she was thrilled to see unlooked-for allies show up.
But then she quickly remembered that the plan had called for Stargo to stay out of sight. He was to enter the picture only if the usurpers abandoned their stealthy efforts to take control of Orduna and began resorting to overt force. What had happened? In his zeal to rescue Ehiloru, had Stargo gotten carried away? Had Delaney explained the plan and his role in it poorly?
If Ehiloru were already dead and the villains were able to pin the murder on the senators as planned, then this would be exactly the wrong time for Stargo and his troops to come sauntering in. Of course, if Ehiloru were already dead, none of it mattered anyway. Stargo was dead, Windglow was dead, Delaney was dead.
Those who felt the steamy breath of horses on their necks pushed grudgingly into their fellow protesters to make room. This ripple effect called attention to the new arrivals.
The crowd scowled at them. An undercurrent of whispering rustled beneath the bold shouts. Fingers were pointed. No one knew who was to blame for the outrage committed against a man of God. But the fact that these soldiers of a foreign nation rode uninvited upon Ordunese soil, to the very seat of the Ordunese government filled the crowd with anger. There were shouts of “Death to Rushbrook!”
Delaney bit her lip in anguish. At this point, she felt utterly helpless. She had done what she could do, and whatever happened now, would happen.
Mercuto began to speak. After several false starts, people grew curious enough about him to cease their noise. After all, this was the first public appearance by a senator of any kind in many months.
“Friends!” cried Mercuto, over the receding din. “I bid you be gracious. The legions of Rushbrook have come to our aid as friends.”
Delaney’s heart jumped. What a break! He thinks Stargo and his men are Eldorean’s goons. If Stargo doesn’t blow his cover, he may get out of this alive.
“To whose aid?” shouted one of the rabble. “To yours, I warrant. Not to ours.” A ripple of approval traveled over the crowd.
“But friends, we are on the same side!” shouted Mercuto. “We are all proud Ordunese who have seen our great city shamed by the greed and indifference of those entrusted to lead it. I have just now escaped from the clutches of my treacherous Senate brethren, who are huddled inside the Citadel, afraid to face the righteous wrath of the people of Orduna! And well they should cower for what they have done. Our leaders have betrayed us, and have been left no choice but to ask Eldorean of Rushbrook to help us. To help the Orduna uproot the evil and establish a true government of the people!”
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The double appeal to patriotism and justice easily took root in the undiscriminating minds of the rabble. Lusty cheers rang out for Mercuto and for Rushbrook. Delaney was not sure how it had happened nor had she any idea how to reverse the effects, but somehow Mercuto had assumed control of the crowd- her crowd— with almost no effort at all.
Stargo dismounted his horse and ascended the stair, apparently determined to botch his assignment as thoroughly as possible. He kept his helmet on his face hidden from Mercuto as he joined him on the steps. When Stargo raised his hand for silence, Mercuto supported him by raising his hand as well. But out of the corner of his mouth, the Ordunese whispered to him, and it was clear he was not happy.
A wave of revulsion passed over Stargo’s face. Pausing briefly to size up the crowd, he cried, “We were called here to help rescue the Prophet Ehiloru. I tell you, do not delay. Storm the halls of the Citadel now! Root out them traitors! The soldiers of Rushbrook are your servants, the servants of justice. Here to support you and nothing more. Hurry, before the murderers lays hands on the best man in the realm, Ehiloru the Prophet!”
The crowd roared their approval. Those who had weapons, whether swords, spears, stones, or homemade implements, brandished them. Delaney was astounded. Completely unaware of what was taking place, the crowd was shedding and trying on new allegiances like women in a hat shop.
Furious, Mercuto grabbed the Rushbrook leader by the shoulder. Stargo turned, removed his helmet and dashed it on the ground in anger, with some choice words that Delaney could not hear. Mercuto gasped.
Delaney laughed out loud. Surprise! Thought it was one of your flunkies, didn’t you!
But she also knew that Mercuto’s discomfort, welcome as it was, would be short-lived if these rumors were true. If Ehiloru was dead already, then this stage show would accomplish nothing beyond signing Stargo’s death warrant. How could ithey have moved up their time table so fast? If the Meshoma drums were accurate, we should have been given more of a time cushion than this. Ehiloru, you have to be alive!
A pasty-faced man, partially hidden in a hood, dashed from the Citadel doors to a pillar directly behind Mercuto’s shoulder. From the way the senator stiffened his neck and looked vacantly into space, she guessed that this newcomer was speaking to him. Whatever he said seemed to scare the life out of Mercuto.
As the crowd surged forward, the senator suddenly tore his robe, a gesture so dramatic that even the most inebriated of the Ordunese stopped cold and stared at him. Delaney felt a creeping dread.
In mock surprise, Mercuto turned on Stargo. “What is this I hear? We looked for support from Rushbrook. We turned to them in openness and good faith. And see how they to exploit our friendship and vulnerability in our time of need. See how they take matters into their own hands, as if they have the right to dictate to common Ordunese citizens what they should do! Citizens of Orduna, whom do you trust to right the injustice done today? We, the native people of this great city? Or avaricious dictators from Rushbrook.”
The largely drunken crowded turned suspicious eyes on the man they had just cheered to the skies, although Delaney would have bet anything they had no idea what “avaricious” meant. Stargo, unprepared for this twist of circumstances, could only stammer, “No, we are not here for--”
Mercuto pressed the attack. “What right has a foreign army to ride with drawn swords into the storied City of Wisdom?”
Stargo shook his sword at Mercuto. “A pretty change of tune, mister. Just a second ago, you was welcoming us with open arms!”
The crowd could not see Mercuto’s wicked smirk as he gasped in mock horror. “Can it be? Has our trust been betrayed? I see it now! The soldiers of Rushbrook have been in collusion with the treasonous Senate! These soldiers are in league with the murderers of the good Ehiloru!”
A menacing growl swept through the crowd. It was Stargo’s turn to grow uneasy.. He backed away from Mercuto and looked around for some help from the people who had gotten him into this mess. Delaney instinctively stayed low and out of sight, even though he could not easily have picked her out of the crowd.
Don’t look at me! You were told to stay out of this until Ehiloru was rescued.
“Murderers of Ehiloru?” shouted Stargo, shrilly, searching for a way out. “What makes you think he is dead? Has anyone seen his body? If so, let him speak! Who has seen it?”
That won’t work, you dumb cluck! Ehiloru is dead. Can’t you see what’s happened? The plan didn’t work! For God’s sake, Stargo, get out of here before the crowd turns on you, too. We’re too late! Get out and save yourself!”
The people muttered in confusion. This was getting too complicated for them to sort out. They had been roused to action, not debate, nor the subtleties of argument.
“Enough of this!” some shouted. “Let’s see for ourselves what’s going on in the Citadel.”
“That stuffed-shirt Senate has been cheating us for months!”
“They haven’t earned their keep for years!”
“Let’s find Ehiloru! and settle this once and for all!"
Stargo wiped his brow in relief as the crowd refocused its energy.
That gets you off the hook for now. Big deal. We’re too late. Let the crowd go, Stargo, and get out of here.
Stargo seemed to be thinking along the same lines. “By all means,” he said, stepping aside and sweeping his arms toward the door. “The answers lie in there! Go! This is your Citadel. It belongs to the people. Enter!"
“Wait!” cried Mercuto.
The crowd hooted in disgust at him. “What do you think we are, puppets on your string to jerk back and forth? Get out of the way!”
“Do you mean to madly dash in there?” cried Mercuto, growing hoarse as he tried to shout over the crowd. “What if they are waiting for us to do just that? What if Rushbrook’s part in this was to lure you off your guard into a foolish charge? We must make a plan.”
More grumbling and teeth-gnashing. A violence-prone mob was straining at their tethers. Soon they would start rioting among themselves just for release. They would need neither a cause nor a reason, and there was no predicting where their loyalty would lie.
At that moment, another soldier in Ordunese uniform sprinted from the door with a message for the beleaguered senator. Mercuto nodded at the messenger and smiled with relief. Turning to the crowd, he said, “Brave citizens of Orduna! I yield to your inspiring courage! Ehiloru indeed lies dead within the Citadel! Storm its walls! Find the murderers before they can wash the blood from their hands! Deal to them the same brand of justice they have dealt to the greatest prophet in the land!”
Roaring promises of vengeance for a man that few of them knew nor cared for, the mob surged up the steps toward the doors. Had there been any chance of swimming against the flow, Delaney would have turned back. The arrival of the last messenger and Mercuto’s sudden change of heart could mean only one thing: Radigan had recovered from his surprise and accelerated his preparations. Now the murderers were ready for the mob.
That confirmed that Ehiloru was dead. Mercuto never would have invited them in if it were not so. Deep in the cellars of the Citadel, vaults were being opened. The senators, dressed in their finest robes and doused in costly perfume, were being let out into the corridors. They would be grinning in rapture over their miraculous release when they would come across the cruelly hacked body of the most famous man of God in the realm. And while these perfumed dupes huddled in horror around Ehiloru’s corpse, the mob would pour into the corridor and catch them gathered around the dead parson like vultures. No questions would be asked. Within seconds every one of those finally dressed senators would be butchered.
The plan had failed. Orduna was lost. All was lost.
Delaney barely had the strength to keep upright, weighed down by the strain of her toil.
“Death to traitors! Burn! Kill!” roared the crowd.
Numbly, she let the crowd sweep her up the steps. The bodies wedged even more tightly as they funneled into the main doors of the Citadel. Gasping for breath, she saw Stargo, still on the top steps, studying the crowd with pursed lips. He raised his hand and signaled his troops to follow him back down the stairs, against the surging Ordunese.
He’s smart not to hang around. In a few moments, the senators will be dead, and Radigan will be in complete control. That makes Stargo dead meat.
Just then the logjam at the doors broke. The rush of the crowd propelled Delaney into the Citadel. At first she felt relief as the shade cooled her skin, and as the surge of humanity eased so that she could move about of her own free will. Only after wandering for several moments did it occur to her that she had friends in this building. Friends who, if they were alive at this moment, were in deadly danger.
So enormous was the Citadel that it easily absorbed the rabble. With no clear idea of where to search, the mob dispersed into smaller bands that raced in all directions. They ran up and down stairways, through main corridors, narrow hallways, and into rooms, meeting no resistance. Neither the Ordunese army nor Radigan’s goons were anywhere to be found.
Shaska! The dungeons! If Delaney could get there before the mob, maybe she could help her. Maybe she could hide her from the mob, and they could both escape from this cursed city back to Tishaara. She sprinted down a stairway, leaping the last four steps to each landing, passing small groups of rampaging Ordunese.
But the maze of the Citadel was not so easily conquered, particularly in the Archives section in which she now dashed. She ran down stairways to the bottom of the building, along corridors and dead ends, poking her head in rooms, searching for some sign of the vaults. Clusters of Ordunese, clutching their makeshift weapons, swarmed in all directions.
Too late! The cry she had dreaded echoed around her as it was relayed from an unseen point. The mob had found the vaults! They had located the senators!
“Down here!”
“Death to the senators!”
The voices climbed in an endless crescendo as Ordunese streamed down into the bowels of the great structure like rats off a sinking ship.
“Death to senators!”
“Avenge Ehiloru!”
Delaney fought her way toward the source of the shouts, using her sharp elbows to good advantage. By virtue of already being in the cellar at the time of the discovery, she reached the tunnel that led to the vaults just ahead of the rush. But even she found herself trapped, with the stinking Ordunese bodies pressing her into the bottleneck of a tunnel.
For a time, Delaney thought she was going to suffocate. But the mob oozed forward, slowly, steadily like some flowing organism, and she finally managed to squeeze into the larger cavern. There was not nearly enough room there to accommodate the mob that converged on it. Delaney fought her way into a corner and climbed onto a shallow nook in the stone wall. While hardly comfortable, she was out of harm’s way.
As more Ordunese pushed into the foyer, a number of rioters were jostled over the precipice into the subterranean canal. Desperate pleas arose to stop the pushing, but to no avail.
“Get back!”
“Calm down and get back!”
“Ow! You’re crushing us!”
Just before this proved disastrous, a voice shouted, “Ehiloru is alive! Shut up! Shut up! I’m trying to hear him.”
Ehiloru! Alive? Delaney scarcely dared hope it was true. The report spread quickly. The perilous influx of bodies momentarily stopped as the crowd hushed to hear from Ehiloru. Along with Delaney, they craned for a view of the vaults and a glimpse of the famous prophet.
A burly man with a finger jammed in one ear and the other ear pressed against the food slot in the vault cried in astonishment. “What? The Senate, too?” Turning to the crowd, he shouted, “The senators are in there with him! They have been imprisoned for months.”
As this message passed out of the foyer along the corridor, other voices took up new shouts. “The Senate imprisoned! So that explains it!”
“How did that happen? Who did this?”
“Mercuto was a liar! Find him!”
“Kill him!”
“What about that Brooking regiment?”
“Yes, they must have been in on it, too. All a plot!”
“Death to the Brookings!”
“No!” shrieked Delaney. “Not Stargo and his men! Just Eldorean!”
But there was no way that reason could make any inroads into the noisy, alcohol-fueled passion of the Ordunese. The few who actually heard Delaney could not imagine whatshe was babbling about. She had purposely managed to separate herself from the celebrity stalkers who had formed the core of this vast snowball of humanity, and no one around her had the slightest clue who she was. They rolled their eyes or wagged their heads at her or wrote her off as just one more incoherent drunk, and resumed shouting for the blood of the traitors.
Ride fast, Stargo. Get out of this loony bin.
As for her, there was no point in running anywhere now. No sense looking for Shaska, or Windglow, or even Dhayelle. Delaney knew she would be lucky to find her own way out of this hole, much less locate missing persons. She would wait for Ehiloru to emerge.
Ehiloru! Alive! Delaney slid off the hard rock knob, grinning hugely. They had done it! They had actually done it! Mission accomplished, against all odds! And she had played a crucial role in this triumph! She and Dhayelle and Windglow had saved Ehiloru! Perhaps Shaska, too, was safely in with the other prisoners. If not, maybe Ehiloru knew where to find her. So consuming was her joy that for a time she dared hope that maybe she would hear Hummer’s booming voice coming from some hidden vault.
Some time later, Delaney sat dangling her feet over the ledge, looking down into the now empty and rather foul-looking canal. Most of the mob had moved off, eagerly seeking targets of their thirst for vengeance. The great foyer had begun to clear, leaving behind only the very rational, the very wet, and those very devoted to the parson. While Delaney appreciated both the more manageable numbers and the elevated quality of her companions, she grew both nervous and impatient. What is taking them so long to get Ehiloru out of that vault?
With her back to both the corridor and the vaults, she did not see Windglow come skidding into the foyer. But he saw her at once. “Delaney! How wonderful to see you!” he shouted, beaming from ear to ear. He grabbed her and twirled her around twice.
“Windglow!” Delaney screamed. She laughed and hugged him back and kissed him on both cheeks. “Windglow! Windglow! This is totally rocksl! I have been worried sick about you! I couldn’t stand to lose you, too.”
The unspoken reference to Humbleton sobered Windglow’s spirits. “We nearly did lose me a short while ago,” he confessed, with an air of bafflement. “Security forces were chasing me all through the hidden passages. Up and down stairways, in every section of the Citadel, I think. Ironically, it was that diabolical Fifth Realm meddler who saved me. That Ishyrus--you know, the one who seems to be behind this whole conspiracy. You are aware that I have had no stamina since entering this realm. But somehow this conspiracy has broken the realm bonds, as Puddles chose to demonstrate at the worst possible time.”
“I don’t take back a word,” snapped Puddles. “The jackass had it coming.”
“Puddles!” cried Delaney, kissing his downy head.
“Thanks for the saliva shower,” muttered the sherrott.
“How’s it going, you little fleepdoodle?” asked Delaney.
“Lousy. Smells like they launder their clothes in sweat in this stinkhole.”
“Anyway,” continued Windglow, clearing his throat, "with those bonds gone, I had no difficulty outlasting my pursuers up and down this maze of hidden staircases until the mobs arrived.”
“What about Shaska?” Delaney asked, nervously.
“That was my next question,” said Windglow. “I am sure I know less about what is going on here than anyone. They say that Ehiloru is alive! Is this true?”
Delaney told what she knew of the situation. As there was still no progress in getting the vault open to reach Ehiloru, talk turned to Dhayelle.
“Quite a woman she turned out to be,” admitted Delaney. “For awhile I thought she was the devil herself. I wonder where she is now.”
“And Stargo. Did he come to our aid?”
“Yes,” said Delaney. “He did his best to help incite the riot before the conspiracy was ready for it. More than he should have, actually. I really don’t know what he thought he was doing. To be honest, I’m still so mixed up by what all has happened that I couldn’t tell you if our plan worked or if we just got lucky. Either way, I'll take it. But the mob is after Stargo’s scalp right now. They think he’s, like, in on the conspiracy. I just hope he got out of town okay.”
“I do hope he is all right,” fretted Windglow. “And what of Ehiloru? What is holding up our friends in the vault? Good sir,” he called to a cleaner, more kindly Ordunese than the type Delaney had been around most of the afternoon. “What seems to be the problem? Is the door stuck?”
“You might say that,” the man agreed. “No one can find a key to either vault. And it is very difficult to open them without one. Those vaults were built to be tamper proof.”