Menagerie - Martin Day [85]
Cosmae sat in an armchair, the young knight a shadowy presence behind him. 'What are you doing here?' he asked.
'My lord and I decided that after the final meeting of the Brotherhood of Rexulon we would come here. We want to ensure that Defrabax's homunculus will be powerless against the Mecrim.'
'And you're happy with what Zaitabor has done? That he's released these creatures simply to cause carnage and punish the world?'
Araboam walked around the room, his fingers clenching nervously around the hilt of the small sword he was carrying. Cosmae could see that there was unease in his movements, whatever he said with his lips. 'There are always things that we do not understand. I must trust my lord.'
'And what has he done to secure this trust?'
'He is Grand Knight and leader of the brotherhood. Under him our entire world will be restored to true observance of the decrees of the Higher.'
'What decrees? The knights believe nothing, elevate meaninglessness to an art-form!'
Araboam grabbed Cosmae's throat and held the point of the sword against his lips. 'Such casual blasphemy will not go unpunished.'
'Maybe so,' said Cosmae quietly when the knight pulled the blade back. 'But do you think you will escape what Zaitabor has planned? Perhaps these creatures will destroy everything.'
'Perhaps,' nodded Araboam. 'But perhaps the Higher has something better to take our place.'
'Then you're as mad as he,' said Cosmae. 'Insanity has eaten into you like a disease. People have said that you were once a gentle and kind child. You've been corrupted!'
'Refined would be a better word,' said a voice from the doorway. Zaitabor stepped into the room, his red Rexulon robes hanging over his Kuabris armour and blue Commander's cloak. His face was as calm and pale as the plaster mask that had covered the automaton. 'What you call madness, I call insight. It depends on where you are looking from. In the light of the Higher, what seems to be insanity is perfect sense. Without the guidance of Kuabris and Rexulon, all actions are base and reprehensible.'
Araboam straightened up, and bowed before Zaitabor.
'My lord, I had hoped that you would come here as planned.'
'I am pleased that you alone remain faithful to me,' said Zaitabor. 'That rabble should not have acquiesced so quickly. And to the City Guard! Mere brutes with no knowledge of the ways of Kuabris.'
'No one really fell under your spell,' said Cosmae.
Zaitabor walked up to the young man and smashed him in the face with one armour-clad arm. Cosmae felt his nose give and suddenly his lips were salty and wet.
'Magic spells have nothing to do with it,' said Zaitabor, wiping his armour on a scroll from the table. 'And the homunculus of your master is no clay golem. What know you of the creature?'
'I know nothing of it,' said Cosmae, blinking back tears.
'Only that it obeys my master and him alone.'
'And yet now that has changed. It was the Doctor who sent the creature after me.'
'Why is the homunculus important to you?' asked Cosmae.
'It is strong enough to cause problems,' said Zaitabor. 'I was only just able to lose it in the dark city before coming here.' Zaitabor threw the parchment back onto the table and idly flicked through the books and papers there. 'You see, the Taculbain reports on your master's plans were most thorough. But it does seem that he had an unexpected change of heart. He planned to replace our own despised Furnace with something from beneath the surface. Why did he not do so? I believe everything was in place. And why now allow the Doctor to control the creature?'
'He would seem to have lost faith in his own judgement,'
commented Araboam.
'That arrogant old man? It would seem impossible, and yet you are right. What other explanation is there? The charlatan must have been exposed. And I can only conclude that there was some danger in what he had planned.'
Zaitabor smiled. 'If this is true then perhaps we should complete his work. The Higher might well have yet more destruction