Free Melanthrix the Mage by Robert Reginald Page B

departed, and none could be connected to the incident.”
    Philodème clucked his tongue. “I wonder, my friends, about the intent here. Surely the attacker knew that the king’s physician would be standing by, that medical assistance would be available al­most instantly. If they had really wanted to kill him, why not soak the bolt with poison? I think we’re being played with.”
    â€œWhy, indeed?” said Mösza, the soi-disant Countess of Rábassy, who represented Harûn Emir of Umm az-Za­kkár.
    Then she noticed Arkády’s expression.
    â€œThere’s more, isn’t there, nephew?” she said.
    â€œYes, auntie,” the prince said. “This is the sixth such attack against King Kyprianos during the last year, each one worse than the last. The first occurred in Faülniß: a cinch broke and the king slipped from his horse, severely bruising his thigh. He was very lucky the leg didn’t break. We originally thought this an accident, but later found that the strap had been partially severed.
    â€œThis was followed by a series of similar incidents, including the collapse of a wall into the street just before the king arrived at a dedication ceremony in Daphnéa, the loosening of a brick in a stairway used only by the royal family, the toppling of a transit mirror just before the king was scheduled to use it, and so forth.”
    â€œI’ve heard nothing of these events,” Zhertán said.
    The prince sighed. “We’ve been able to keep them fairly quiet thus far, although this latest incident cannot be hidden. There’s an­other problem, too. The king is convinced that the person responsible for these assaults is the Dark-Haired Man.”
    â€œWhat?” said Jerzy Count Waledynski of Poló­nia.
    â€œAbsurd,” said Kulmann. “The Dark-Haired Man is a myth.”
    â€œPerhaps so,” Arkády said, “but that’s what he believes, and each subsequent attack has just strengthened his conviction. He’s also come to identify the Dark-Haired Man with King Barnim, for no reason that anyone can dis­cern. I and several others in the court have tried to move his mind, but nothing that we’ve said thus far seems to have had any effect. In the past few months, he has begun active preparations for a military campaign in the west. I now think that war is likely.”
    â€œIf true, this is a misfortune of the highest order,” said Zhertán. “Men have forgotten the devastation of the last conflict between Pommerelia and Kórynthia, al­though I recall it only too well, and how long it took for the Teutonmark to recover from the aftereffects. We sim­ply cannot allow another such test.”
    â€œNo one here would disagree with you, I think,” said Arkády. “But the question remains: how do we stop what’s already begun? I have no answers to offer at this wretched time of the night, alas.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    â€œWHAT DO WE REALLY KNOW ABOUT THE DARK-HAIRED MAN?”
    Then he abruptly changed the subject. “What do we really know about the Dark-Haired Man?”
    Ancient Laössoös, representing the Lakedaimônian Laconians, finally stirred himself at the other end of the table, slowly raising his eyes.
    â€œ They say ,” he said, “that Death snatches even the coward as he flees his every yesterday. They say ...that man is but a breath and but a shadow, a phantom in time who quickly fades away. They say ...that Kyprianos will cross the Carpathian Spine to keep his guilt at bay. They say ...that He waits within us all to capture our souls when we look the other way.”
    Then he slid back into sleep.
    Sayyíd Nur ad-Din ibn Shukr Alláh as-Saíf, a swarthy man of middle years who hailed from the Empty Quarter in southern Araby, but represented the Sharíf Quriyáqus of Libán, spoke up for the first time.
    â€œI hesitate to offer my