The Tower Broken(71)

‘Decisions of empire are not made on emotions,’ said Sarmin, though he did not believe that to be true.

‘But you won’t accept this Armahan.’ A question there. Even now, Grada needed the reassurance. She needed to know that if he took anyone besides Mesema it would be her.

‘I wouldn’t.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘My mother was not with Arigu after all, Grada. She is missing, like Daveed …’

Grada came around the desk and faced him, hand on her Knife, ready.

‘Will the Grey Service find her?’ Sarmin realised he did not know how many agents the Grey Service had. The Histories had taught him that the emperor could rely on dozens of spies, but he had never thought to ask for an exact number. Now that he had given them so many tasks, he wondered.

Grada bowed. ‘We will do our best, Your Majesty.’

‘That is all I ask.’ He reached out a hand, but she did not take it. ‘That is all I ask.’

She cocked her head, listening to noises in the hall. ‘A moment,’ she said, and stepped out. Sarmin did not move except to lower his hand and lay it flat upon the gleaming wood of his desk. It felt cool in the morning air.

Grada returned. ‘That was Meere, Your Majesty. He has caught the man who attacked the Empire Mother and stole Daveed. He has caught Mylo.’

Sarmin did not even take a moment to think. ‘Take him directly to Dinar for questioning. He must find out about Adam’s movements.’ That would satisfy Herzu’s craving for blood and lead him closer to his brother at the same time.

Grada paused, meeting his gaze, but said nothing. She gave only a bow before retreating. It was not until she had gone that he realised what he had seen in her eyes. It had been disappointment.





31



Sarmin


Sarmin entered the temple of Herzu with Ne-Seth and the other guards at his back. He had forgotten how confusing it was here: statues and chairs covered the floor in no order at all and he had to pick his way through them in the near dark, the only available light resting at the foot of the great statue of the God on the far side of the temple. He squeezed between an eight-foot gryphon and an empty soapstone basin and found something of an aisle that ended at the feet of Herzu. There he paused, looking up at the terrible, cruel, fanged visage. Something glistening and bloody had been placed in its outstretched hand and Sarmin felt a wave of nausea. He looked away, not wanting to know whether they were teeth, fingernails or something else. They had likely come from Mylo.

Dinar emerged from the private halls behind the altar, wiping his hands on a rag, leaving dark stains. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said, smiling, in a fine mood. ‘I have been questioning our Mogyrk prisoner.’

‘Indeed. I have come to find out what you have learned.’ Sarmin looked down at the rag and felt strong misgivings. He had heard no screams, no begging; he thought if he were being tortured he would not be so stoic.

The high priest sighed. ‘He speaks of nothing but going into the light, Magnificence. He says we will all be destroyed, and Mogyrk will take him to paradise. No matter how I cut him, he will say nothing of the austere, Adam.’

‘He is brave, then.’ So the man had one admirable quality. He had attacked his mother and stolen his brother away, but at least he had courage. That would not be enough to spare him, though. ‘I want to see him.’

Dinar smiled and turned towards a dark hallway, saying, ‘This way, Magnificence.’

Sarmin followed. At times the high priest looked like nothing more than a shadow among shadows, so dark was the corridor, but at last he opened a door into a well-lit room.

‘The sacrifice,’ said Dinar.

Mylo lay naked upon a great golden hand. His head rested in the crook of the middle finger and the wide palm cupped his hips. His feet hung at odd angles over the edge where the broad wrist rose from the floor. Sarmin took that in quickly and made a point of not looking at what lay between those three points. Blood dripped from the hollow of the thumb onto the tiles, and Sarmin moved his feet away, his eyes taking in cuts, stripped muscle and twisted fingers before he could turn his head to meet Mylo’s gaze.

Mylo looked back at him, his eyes calm.

‘Where is Adam?’ asked Sarmin.

Mylo looked at Dinar before he spoke. ‘Mogyrk will bring light to all of Nooria,’ he said.

At this Dinar made a sound of impatience and picked up a hammer. Mylo swallowed, but kept on, ‘There will be a rebirth. After the destruction—’

The high priest brought the hammer down on Mylo’s foot but the man did not scream. He tensed, then turned his head to the side to allow thin yellow vomit to flow from his mouth. After several moments had passed he said, ‘After the destruction, we will go into the light.’