Keys To The Kingdom_ Sir Thursday Part 19

High on the battlements of the Star Fort, it was easier to see just how muc h trouble the Citadel and all those who sheltered behind its walls were in.

There was a blackened, churned-up borderland that stretched for about thre e hundred yards beyond the western bastions. After that, there were numerou s diagonal trenches dug in a complex pattern that ran for miles to the west and to the north and south. These trenches were heavily populated by New N ithlings and New Nithling siege equipment, including scaling ladders, bundl es of fascines for filling trenches, battering rams, and many large mantlet s that were like portable roofs they carried to protect themselves from arr ows and musketry.

"So that's what seventy-five thousand New Nithlings look like," said Arthur . He tried to sound nonchalant, but there were so many of the enemy, and ev erything about their position looked so organized, from the trenches to the way that each unit was formed up within the earthworks, each with its own colorful banner above it, spread by the breeze and bravely lit by the after noon sun.

"More like ninety thousand," said Dusk, looking at a strip of parchment in h is hand. "The Borderers report another column has just arrived. There you can see its dust in the distance."

Arthur looked where Marshal Dusk was pointing.

"How far away is that?"

"Four miles," said Dusk. "Off the fixed tiles. They'd normally be moved far away at sunset."

Arthur didn't say anything, but everyone glanced at the downward-lurching s un, and there was an unspoken note of regret that the mission to destroy th e spike had failed.

"They're preparing for another a.s.sault," said a colonel at Dusk's side.

"That's unusual," said Dusk. "They've only just failed in their last attempt . Normally they wait a day or so, to really build up their numbers. I wonder why the hurry now?"

"They were close to taking the southwestern corner bastion," answered the col onel. "Perhaps they think a quick a.s.sault will finish that task."

"I had best go see to the defenses, sir," said Dusk. "If I may suggest, sir, it would be wise to send Marshal Noon there too. He is a tremendous fighter a nd always greatly cheers the troops."

"We'll all go," said Arthur. He licked his lips, which had become suddenly d ry.

Just the wind, Arthur thought.

"I'll go out with the truce flag," he said. "I don't suppose the Piper will be there though I guess he can probably use the Improbable Stair too so maybe he will be"

Arthur paused for a moment, thinking before he continued.

"I'll ask for him. If he's not there and they're prepared to talk, it will win u s some time. If he is, I'll try to drag things out as long as I can, to give Dam e Primus time to get the reinforcements here."

I just pray she's not as slow and bureaucratic as she normally is, thought Ar thur. He hoped this doubt did not show on his face.

"They may simply try to kill you," said Marshal Dusk. "The Key will prote ct you to some extent, but we do not know the extent of their Nothing-bas ed sorcery or powers. And the PiperI know little about him, but he was a lways rumored to be a most powerful and unusual sorcerer himself."

"When did you last hear about him?" asked Arthur.

"We do not pay much attention to what goes on elsewhere in the House or the Secondary Realms," Dusk explained. "But of course new recruits bring rumor s, and letters come from their civilian homes. Now that I think on it, I su ppose I have not heard anything of the Piper's exploits for several hundred years at least."

"And now the Piper's back, apparently from Nothing, with an army of New N ithlings."

"With your permission, I will personally choose and lead your bodyguard," said Dusk.

Arthur shook his head and pointed down.

"I'll go alone. To the middle of the firewash-burned zone there, between tho se two bastions. You can cover me from there. If too many of them come for m e, I'll back off. But I hope when they see the white flag, they'll send just one messenger. They are very military I think they'll do the right thing."

"They are good soldiers," Dusk said slowly, as if it were hard for him to say this aloud. "Perhaps they will send a herald. But in case they do not we ha ve a troop of the Horde here, sir. So, again with your permission, I will hav e them stand ready near the southwest sally port. In the event a rescue is re quired."

"Sure," Arthur said. "But no one is to do anything unless I give a clear sign al or I'm being literally dragged away or attacked. I don't want everything t o go off the rails because someone shoots the herald or something." He hesitated, then spoke again.

"You'd better a.s.sign soldiers to watch the Piper's children too. The Piper mi ght be able to make them do things. I don't want any of them hurt or locked u p or anything. They should be allowed to carry out their duties. Just have th em watched, and if they do act strangely, they can be restrained. But not hur t, all right?"

"Yes, sir," said Dusk. "Here is Marshal Noon, with the truce flag."

Noon stomped grumpily out onto the battlements, a staff with a furled white flag in his hand.

"Thank you, Marshal." Arthur felt a bit guilty for sending the marshal to get a white flag. It was because the Denizen had annoyed him, and he felt ill th at he had behaved in such a way. His mother and father would be horrified at his misuse of power. If he wasn't careful, Arthur thought, he'd not only turn into a Denizen, he'd turn into one like Sir Thursday. "I should have sent a junior officer. I apologize."

"Yes, sir," said Noon stiffly. "Do you have further orders, sir?"

"I want you to take personal charge of the defense of the outer bastions," sa id Arthur. "I am going to try to get us time by talking, but it may not work, and the New Nithlings are apparently preparing to attack again."

Noon looked out over the crenellated wall and back again.

"Within the hour, I would say," he said. "At sundown."

"I suppose I should change into something more impressive," said Arthur. H e looked down at his dusty cuira.s.s and the torn and bedraggled uniform und erneath it.

"You hold the Key, and Part Four of the Will of the Architect rides upon y our arm," said the Will. "You need no adornment to proclaim your authority . Now, Lord Arthur, I think that you might find ten minutes to hold a cour t and try Sir Thursday "

"Please stop going on about a trial or whatever for Thursday!" exclaimed Ar thur. "I've got enough to worry about!"

"In my experience, if justice needs to be done, it should be done swiftly and visibly," protested the Will.

Arthur wasn't listening. One of the officers around him had idly picked up a lead bullet or a small stone and was throwing it over the wall. Something a bout its arc made him suddenly wonder if he'd thrown the Skinless Boy's pock et far enough to land in the Nothing. If it had fallen short, as now seemed all too likely, he would have to try and get that back from the Piper in ord er to destroy it.

"Sir Thursday will face trial," he said, trying to refo-cus. "He murdered F ineold and Jazebeth. But right now we haven't got time. Let's get down to t he outer bastions. Marshal Noon, if you would lead the way?"

As with his journey into the Citadel, Arthur was led along, through, and pa st a bewildering arrangement of tunnels, gates, walkways, and guardhouses. But it was different this time. He was constantly saluted, and his arm grew weary from raising his baton in reply. The marshals spoke to the soldiers, encouraging them, talking to them by name, congratulating them for their e xploits so far in the siege. But Arthur couldn't do that. Every time he was about to say something morale-boosting, he found the words he was thinking of sounded insincere. So he remained silent, striding along amid the crowd of marshals and other officers, but strangely alone, s.p.a.ce always around h im, no matter how confined they were.

He felt lonelier still as a small sally-port door was opened and a sergeant h anded him the staff with the now unfurled white flag. It was huge, the size o f a double-bed sheet, but Arthur found he could carry it like a pike, balance d on his shoulder.

"Good luck, sir," said the sergeant as he helped Arthur and the flag through the doorway to the blasted earth beyond.

"Good luck, sir," echoed Marshal Dusk and the dozen staff officers who see med to do nothing but follow senior officers around.

Arthur stepped forward and raised the flag. The sallyport door shut behind him. He took another few steps and looked back up. The bastion's battlement s were forty feet above, soldiers peering down through the embrasures at hi m. Arthur turned to look at the enemy lines and walked forward, out into the middle of the firewash-blasted dead ground between the bastion and the for ward trenches of the enemy.

"I hope this works," hissed the Will. "It is rather foolhardy of you, Lord Art hur. I suspect that the first three parts of myself have not counseled you as well as they should have. I suppose they are out of balance, being only three parts of seven. With the addition of myself, we will be four, and the scales w ill be a little better adjusted."

"I want you to be quiet if we do get to have a meeting with the New Nithling s," said Arthur. "I don't want any interruptions. And don't attack anyone ei ther. The last thing we need is a poisoned messenger."

"I can choose to be poisonous or not," said the Will. "As the case requires. I can even choose my poison."

"Well, don't poisonously bite anyone unless I ask you to," said Arthur force fully. He looked up at his flag and saw that it was fully spread. There had been no olive branch available, but the white flag should be an unmistakable request for a truce and negotiation, Arthur thought.

He'd been a bit concerned that the firewashed area was going to be a gruesome repository of dead Nithlings, but there were no bodies or even any bloodstai ns. Just a fine, gray ash that lay inch-thick on the dirt, puffing up under A rthur's feet as he strode out towards the trenches.

When he judged he was halfway, Arthur found a patch of loose earth, probabl y from where a cannonball had struck early in the siege, and stuck the staf f in the ground. Then he stood under the flag and waited.

He could see the front line of trenches very clearly, and the heads of the New Nithlings who were observing him as closely. They did not use muskets o r any other distance weapon as far as he knew, but even so his skin felt te nse, as if there would suddenly be a shot, or an arrow would plunge down fr om the sky.

Nothing happened for a considerable time. The sun sank lower in the sky. A rthur even began to get bored, which surprised him. The New Nithlings cont inued to move about the trenches, carrying ladders and other gear, and pus hing larger siege engines along farther back. But they did not move out of their trenches and come forward.

Arthur almost missed it when something began to happen. The pattern of Ni thling movement changed and all handling of large equipment stopped. It a lso became much quieter.

A tall figure climbed out of the forward trench and walked towards Arthur. A Denizen-tall figure in a voluminous yellow greatcoat that hid his body, topped by that Napoleon hat and the steely mask. He had no obvious weapon s, but the greatcoat could conceal almost anything, and of course, he prob ably had his pipe.

He walked up to within two yards of Arthur and stopped. Then he gave a sketch y half salute. Arthur, without thinking, returned it with an instinctive, sma rtly snapped salute at full attention.

"You are courteous," said the Piper. His voice was light and somewhat stran ge, and it made Arthur feel like he was in a dream, not really understandin g what was happening, but also feeling an overwhelming urge to agree with t he Piper. He shook his head to clear it and gripped the Fourth Key more tig htly.

"I see you are protected," said the Piper. His voice sounded the same, but it didn't have the same effect. "I suppose that is only to be expected."

"Why are you here?" Arthur asked gruffly. His own voice sounded like a cro w's rasping caw after the Piper's melodious tones. "I mean, why are you at tacking the Army?"

"Let us introduce ourselves first, surely," said the Piper. "Though I have n ow been told who you claim to be. I am called the Piper, and I am the son of the Architect and the Old One. I am the Rightful Heir to the House."

Chapter Twenty-eight

"Um, sahur. "Um, that's kind oftricky. You I see, I'm Arthur Penh aligon, and though I didn't want to be, I am the Master of the Lower Hous e and the Far Reaches, Duke of the Border Sea, and Commander-in-Chief and Overlord of the Great Maze, and all because your mom'sthe Architect's W ill chose me to be the Rightful Heir."

"The Will chose you because I was not available at the time," said the Piper. " That is regrettable, but it can easily be rectified."

"Right," said Arthur. "Where were you?"

"I was in Nothing," said the Piper, bitterness in his voice. "Where I was c ast by my turncoat brother, Lord Sunday, seven hundred years ago."

"In Nothing? Shouldn't you be "

"Dissolved?" asked the Piper. "Very little of my corporeal flesh remains be neath this coat and mask. But I am the Architect's son. Even as the Nothing ate my flesh and bone, I shaped the Nothing. I built a place for myself, a small worldlet where I could recuperate, and there I lay for the first hun dred years, regaining my strength. In my second century I made the worldlet larger. I created servants to tend me, and began to fas.h.i.+on connections ba ck to the House. In the third hundred I began to build an army, not of mind less Nithlings but of my New Denizens. Better ones than Mother made. More l ike mortals. Smarter and able to change. More in keeping with my father's v ision. In the fourth century I made the spike, and in the fifth I began to plan how to re-enter the House through the Great Maze "

He stopped and took a breath.

"But we are not here to talk of my past, but of my future. I did not belie ve my part of my mother's Will had been released until quite recently, Art hur, when my rats confirmed the news. But I am not displeased at your prog ress. You need simply hand over the Keys to me and I will continue in my c ampaign against my traitor brother and his minion Sat.u.r.day. You may return to your own world in the Secondary Realms and live the life you should ha ve had, as I believe you wish to do."

Arthur opened his mouth, then shut it again. He didn't know what to say or think. He was being offered a reprieve from the awesome and awful responsib ilities that had been thrust upon him.

"It's not as simple as that," hissed a voice near his elbow.

"And what, pray tell, do you have to do with it?" asked the Piper, bending do wn so his metal mask was close to the serpent's head, close enough that he co uld see the lines of type swirling about to create the illusion of snakeskin.

"I am Part Four of the Will of the Architect, as you very well know," said t he snake. "And Arthur is the Rightful Heir. He can't just give you the Keys because you're not the Rightful Heir."

"I am the Heir by right of blood and inheritance!"

"If that was all that mattered, it would be Sunday,'''' said the Will. "He's the oldest."

"I have proved I am her inheritor," said the Piper. He spread his arms wid e to take in all the New Nithling army. "Look what I have wrought from Not hing!"

"Very impressive, but it makes no difference," said the snake. "Arthur is t he Rightful Heir. Now that he has the Fourth Key and is commander-in-chief, you are rebelling not against the traitor Sunday but against the legitimat e authority of the House. Which makes you a traitor now. Not that your loya lty was ever quite as clear as anyone would wish."

"Your tone is overly familiar," said the Piper. He did not sound angry but rather more puzzled. "Who are you to question my loyalty?"

"You are as much your father's son as your mother's." said the snake. It unc oiled itself and stretched higher than Arthur's head. "You never sought to f ree the Will yourself, till you argued with your brother in quite recent tim es, as we count it in the House. Am I wrong in thinking that Sunday cast you into Nothing because you once again tried to free the Old One against his w ishes?"

"That is not relevant," said the Piper. "Arthur, either you give me the Key s, beginning with the Fourth Key you hold there, or I will take them from y ou or whoever holds them."

"What will you do onceif you get them?" asked Arthur.

"I shall rule the House."

"I mean, will you set it to rights and get everything back in order so the H ouse just watches and records the Secondary Realms and doesn't interfere?"

"It is not interference to tend something that has grown awry," said the Pip er. "My mother was confused on this issue. Essentially she did not want othe rs to meddle with what she had made, but she 'interfered' with the Realms he rself if the mood took her. As shall I."

Arthur shook his head.

"You don't care about all the life out there, do you? All the mortals. We're j ust the end product of the Architect's big experiment."

"No," said the Piper. "That is true of my brother Sunday. It is not true of me. I love my mortals, the children I brought to make the House more inter esting, and the Rats who serve as my spies. I tried to make my New Denizens as much like them as I could. I succeeded too well, perhaps, for they woul d prefer to farm and make things, even though they are excellent soldiers a nd wish to serve me well. Now, we have talked enough. What is your decision , Arthur? I must tell you that if you decline my generous offer, we will at tack as soon as both you and I leave this ashen field."

"What happened to the Piper's children who were with me on our attack on t he spike?" Arthur asked.

"Two were slain by Sir Thursday, though I tried to save them. The others se rve me now, as is right and proper."

"Of their own free will?"

"They exist to serve me," replied the Piper. "It is their reason for being."

Arthur looked down at the baton in his hand. He could feel the power of the Fourth Key like a constant low vibration and a warmth that was delicious t o his skin. I wonder if I'm getting addicted to the Keys, he thought. J wonder if I'm ma king a really big mistake. One with untold consequences for everybody alive, here in the House and all those billions of humans and aliens and who knows what ou t in the Secondary Realms "I would be happy to work with you against Lord Sunday," Arthur said slowly.

"And I'm sure we could give your army part of the Great Maze to have for fa rms. There are even villages ready-built for them to move into. But I can't give you the Keys. Like it or not, I am the Rightful Heir, and I think I hav e to keep going. To set everything to rights. To let the universe get on wit h itself, without without your kind toying with all our lives."

"That's that, then," said the Piper. "I shall play at your funeral, Arthur. You deserve no less, for all that you lack wisdom. It shall be soon, I fear, for t he Citadel will not stand long against the might I bring to "

Arthur was never entirely sure what happened then. The Will either spat pois on at the mouth opening of the Piper's mask or struck at his mouth so swiftl y that its pa.s.sage looked like a spray of venom.