come clear that we’d been taken there under false pretenses.
“The second morning I was sitting outside his palace when two of his entourage approached to tell me that their lordship wanted to speak with me, and I assumed it was about payment, as I took care of that sort of thing. They led me to his private chambers. Quite lavish, they were. Polished and shiny, marble and smooth reddish wood everywhere, and not a hint of decay. His lordship was still abed, and as with the throne, a gauze surrounded the bed, obscuring him from view behind its shadows, and the servant with the mask on a pole stood beside it. I’d concluded by then that he was deformed in some manner, cruelly shaped by nature or a curse. He was eating his breakfast, and I wondered why he’d felt compelled to bring me in before it was finished.
“The moment I arrived he remarked to me, ‘I know you despise that whore who travels with you.’ And whatever I had ever thought about Leandra, it took me a moment to understand that he meant her. His voice . . . it was like a hive of furious bees, and perhaps that caused me to have to sort out what he’d said.
“ ‘Whore,’ I repeated, like I didn’t know the meaning of the word.
“He clarified by saying, ‘The common dancer. I wish for her to remain behind when you leave, which you may do now at any time. As I’m informed of your hatred for her, I thought it best to apply to you. I want you to arrange to leave her behind. I don’t care how it’s done. Give her to me, take your fortune, and depart.’
“I babbled something about how she was Bardsham’s wife, but that relationship didn’t matter to him, either, nor should it matter to me if I hated her to the degree he believed I did.
“I listened to him and gods forgive me I thought about it. I blamed her for our being there. That much was easy to justify, but not enough to warrant what he asked. Bardsham would have killed me on the spot if I’d suggested it. I was about to try to explain this to the madman—for now I knew he was truly insane—when the door to his chamber opened and two of those gruesome Agents came in. Between them, they were dragging Tahman. He’d been thrashed and beaten, his shirt shredded, sopping blood. His mouth was swollen up, his face all bruised. He saw me and his eyes pleaded and hoped. He tried to say something, and I saw that some of his teeth had been knocked or pulled out. Before a word of explanation was spoken, I knew what had occurred, and under my breath I cursed the stupid bastard.
“Lord Tophet announced, ‘Your drummer is a thief. He attempted to steal from me earlier this morning. I promise you untold wealth and you respond by sending a thief into my private chambers to rob me.’
“ ‘We didn’t send him,’ I said. ‘We didn’t know.’
“ ‘Oh, but you knew he’s a thief.’
“I said, Yes, of course we’d known about that forever, and then added, ‘But we didn’t suspect him to be so infinitely stupid as to rob you.’ Until that moment, I believe Tahman thought I was there to rescue him, to bargain for his freedom.
“ ‘Yes, that is accurate, I think,’ said Tophet, and he parted the curtain and stepped out to confront Tahman.
“The servant with the pole and mask didn’t move to cover him this time, and I saw him clearly. Cloaked in a green robe, he was, his hair long and black. The face—truly it is the face of Chaos. It’s almost indescribable. Horrible. Not because of any deformity or scars like I’d thought, but because it was hundreds or thousands of faces all flowing through each other at once. Faces of agony, of terror, of more pain than can be withstood by any of us. Tahman screamed at the sight of him, because that slithery face was intent upon him alone. The lord rolled back one sleeve, revealing more of that gleaming purple arm. ‘There is a single punishment for theft in my world,’ he explained, and then he grabbed hold of Tahman’s wrists. Tahman twisted, kicking out, but was held in place by the two Agents while the color drained from him and the grayness rose up his arms, his whipped torso, his neck, his face.