Chapter 17: The hand which feeds a snake…

The preparations for their return to the capital were well on the way now, the problem with the rogue war leader had been solved and there was no reason to stay. Maglor did also worry about the emperor, he did care about the elderly man and knew that things could change fast. When he returned he would have to help Ayjun chose between his sons and it would be a tough job for all of them were good men and not at all the spoiled brats one could anticipate. The emperor had been very careful when the boys were raised, any son of his were taken away from court for some years and had to work as a submissive official for a while to learn how to be humble and to get a better grasp on how ordinary people lived and it was smart and taught them responsibility.

Aodh was fascinated by the culture of the plains, he would have loved to stay longer but they had been there for weeks now and Maglor knew that the emperor needed to hear of their success. Besides, he feared that the false faith of the red priest could have spread, it promised power and to some that is more alluring than sugarwater to an ant. He only felt a short sting of regret the morning they left the huge camp, he wished that he could have learned more about this culture but there wasn't enough time. The way back to the capital would be a long one, because of the changing seasons the route would be longer and take them further east than ever before and he was looking forwards to seeing new sights but it did also irk him that they had to travel so slowly. There were scores of wagons following them and soldiers and also people and cattle and loads of gifts for the emperor and his household. It had become a caravan just as large as the one they had formed when they arrived and perhaps even bigger so it was not exactly racing along.

Maglor would have preferred to leave the caravan behind and ride just him and Aodh and the two women, perhaps with a few soldiers just in case but protocol had to be followed. They were safe within the huge group and with several thousand soldiers in tow nobody would dare to attack them, even if they brought great riches along. Now he didn't try to hide himself that much, except from the fact that he was an elf of course. He would ride among the soldiers wearing a helmet and soon he became rather popular among them since he taught them tricks and skills they hadn't thought of before. Aodh too was well liked, in special since he really knew how to drink and he often shared some wine or ale with the other cavalry men. Maglor was getting very fond of the foal he had been given, the animal grew well and even know it was apparent that it would become a very large horse. The dun colour seemed to deepen and at the same time develop a strange golden sheen and he named it Arzhaim which meant arrow of gold in the local language.

The huge caravan entered an area which was rather poor now, the land was steppes placed between tall mountains and the winters were fierce and the summers short and cold. Here few lived and the only way people could make a living were by farming sheep and goats. The sheep and goats they did see were skinny and the wool not exactly much to brag about, one of the other officials who followed the caravan told Maglor that this area never had paid any taxes for they had nothing of value. Earlier emperors had demanded young boys as payments since the local tribes were known to be hardy people who fought well and were of good health in spite of the harsh living conditions. The practice had been ended after a few centuries since the population dropped dramatically after an outbreak of some sort of plague and the emperor back then feared that the area would be transformed into nothing but wilderness again.

Crossing the steppes took almost a month and during that time they struggled with some wagons which lost wheels, lost some horses due to a freak storm and two soldiers got drunk and wandered off and were found the next day, frozen to death. It was expected that some did die during such a long journey but it did nonetheless upset Maglor who hated the idea of losing someone he felt responsible for. He spent the days in the wagon trying to learn the languages they encountered and he learned a lot, some of it rather upsetting. After the steppes came the high passes, not as high as the ones they had crossed on the way to the plains but difficult enough and it was a hard part of the route. It often took days just to move a few miles and the soldiers were alert the whole time, the camp guarded at night and everybody had tasks to do. Yanhe and Yanhu did help with the security, the two pretty girls could charm just about anyone and any stranger approaching the wagons had to talk to them first.

After a very harrowing month they were heading towards the lowlands again and here the mountains were way more ragged than before and there were countless steep valleys and tall cliffs. The locals told them that short people lived somewhere in the mountain range and Maglor got a bit exited. He had never heard of dwarves this far east but why not? The children of Aüle could probably thrive in this area for it was rather perfect for dwarves in many ways. The mountains held gems and gold and there was plenty of game in the high valleys. He didn't expect to meet them though, dwarves are secretive folk and prefer to stay unnoticed by others and he just decided to remember that they could live in there somewhere. They had entered one of the larger more fertile valleys when he first heard of trouble brewing, some of the locals did approach the soldiers, pleading for help.

One of the officers did approach Maglor and Aodh and asked them for advice and so Maglor were told a rather terrible tale. The valley held three villages, all rather small and everybody there knew each other or were related one way or the other. It was a peaceful community which held cattle and farmed a sort of rice and also some vegetables and they had lived there for centuries without problems. But now a small group of miscreants were causing mayhem everywhere. They were probably outcasts from the lowlands, scumbags and low lives who made their living by plundering and stealing and lately several houses had been robbed and cattle stolen and slaughtered. That was bad in itself but the worst part was that young women and girls had been abducted and several had been found dead, raped and tortured. The communities were in shock and fear had made them paranoid and nervous. Maglor and Aodh arranged a meeting with one of the village leaders, a man who had once lived further south and had some education. He spoke the language of the emperor's capital rather well an appeared to be a very wise man but he had aged well before his time and was weak and fragile. The hard life here took its toll of everyone and this man was no exception. He was sitting on a huge pillow and shivered slightly and Maglor saw that he had an eyeinfection and had lost most of his teeth.

Maglor sat down and tried to appear as non threatening as he possibly could. "So, you are being tormented by highwaymen old man?"

The man nodded, his face contorted by disgust. "Aye, nothing but throat cutters and scum, they murdered a whole family last night. I beg of you, help us. We are not fighters, we are farmers"

Maglor smiled. "We will help, if you send someone who can tell us where the last attack happened we can track them down like the beasts that they are"

The old man seemed to almost shrink out of sheer relief. "Oh praise the ancestors, thank you. I will ask my grandson to guide you, he is strong and fast and knows the mountains"

Aodh stared at Maglor. "Is this really wise?"

The elf nodded slowly. "It is, these men will cause more and more problems if they aren't stopped and we are many. Gather twenty of the best soldiers, not the cavalry men but the infantry. Ask them to arm themselves with short swords and pikes and wear only leather armour. I don't want anything which jingles and makes sounds"

Aodh turned on his heel and left to give the order to those he saw fit and Maglor got up, he felt eager. He had gotten bored of lately and this was thrilling, it would be a challenge and he would do these poor people a huge favour as well. When he left the building he did notice that many of the locals were staring at him and he saw that a great number of them were dark of skin and hair and yet they had blue eyes. Some in a colour so striking it did look unnatural. One of the local men noticed his curious expression and smiled. "The ancestors have blessed us oh great lord, the blue eyes follow one family line and they are always strong."

Maglor did see that the women there covered their faces with a sort of stiff veil, almost like a screen and it was always adorned with intricate embroideries and jewels but it didn't hide the fact that these people were very pretty to look at, tall and elegant compared with the ones who inhabited the steppes. They had to belong to a different ethnical group. A tall slender man wearing a sheep skin over his cloak approached them and bowed deeply. "I am Suhran, my grand father told you needed my guidance?"

Maglor nodded. "That is correct, as soon as our soldiers are ready I want to leave and track down those murderers."

Suhran smiled. "Bless you and your men, we are defenceless, nobody here even owns a sword and our bows are just for hunting marmots and wild goats"

Before long Aodh had prepared twenty of the best soldiers and they left the village as dusk fell. Suhran did lead them along some narrow tracks to a farm which lay half an hours walk from the village and it was rather apparent that something violent had happened there. Blood still covered the earthen floors and the stench of death was intense. Suhran grimaced. "Seven people were slaughtered here my lord, three children, their parents and two servants."

Maglor stared at the place, it was a simple building with few valuable items but most of the furniture and personal belongings had been hacked into pieces and it didn't look as if anything had been stolen. "They did this just to kill, these people owned nothing of value"

Suhran nodded and his eyes were sad. "You are right, they were very poor, this family lost their livestock two years ago in a flood and they hadn't had the time to regrow their herd yet. They were starving most of the time."

Aodh almost growled. "And yet they were attacked?"

The local man sighed and nodded again, he did look nervous. "Yes, we are all scared now, they were four adults here, and the walls are strong too. They attacked out of sheer bloodlust, who does such a thing really?"

Maglor kicked aside the remains of a simple table. "People who are insane, so, where did they go?"

Suhran pointed towards the nearest side valley. "The daughter of the house was found along the path leading to that valley, she had been…"

Aodh bit his teeth together. "We get it, they probably went that way so let us go, they cannot have gotten very far"

Maglor found the tracks right away, and he remembered all the skills he once had learned while following his brother Celegorm on his hunts. It was a group of at least ten men and they wore good shoes and travelled fast. These were young and well trained individuals and they were probably very confident too. Suhran told him that the valley was one where the sheep would graze in the summers, it was rather naked but two huts had been built up there for the herders and there were also caves in the area. Aodh mumbled as he heard this. "They are so sure of themselves they hide this close to their prey? That is unwise of them"

Suhran shrugged. "They know that we are no threat, without help we are as harmful as a basket of kittens."

Maglor had better eyesight than the others and could follow the tracks even without torches and as they approached the valley he did notice something which sent shivers down his spine. Some of the rocks along the path had tiny symbols carved into them and he did recognize them. It was dwarf runes, there was a dwarf city somewhere nearby. The valley was dark as they reached its edge and the men spread out, moving slowly and silently and Maglor and Aodh followed the path, never losing sight of the tracks. Suhran explained where the huts were and stayed behind with the soldiers watching their backs and the two warriors were fast as they almost ran up the gentle slopes.

Maglor stopped when he heard a sound, it was distant shouts, screams and cries and they saw light flickering up above. Aodh whispered. "The first hut should be there, those screams?"

Maglor felt that his throat was dry. "A female, but no human"

Aodh frowned and Maglor swallowed hard. "It has to be a dwarf, hurry, we have to stop them"

As they crept closer to the small wooden hut they heard that someone was struggling, screaming and pleading and Maglor groaned. "I was right, it is a dwarf"

Some of the words he did hear were most definitely khuzdul, just a dialect he never had heard before. The hut was rather small and surrounded by bushes and suddenly Maglor caught sight of something within them, something blinked for a second, like starlight reflected off shiny metal. He froze. "Aodh, do not move. Just stay there. "

The blonde frowned but obeyed and Maglor started whispering, very slowly and with very deliberate words. He repeated the words a few times, it was too low for a human inside of the hut but a dwarf would most certainly hear it. Suddenly there was movement to his left and a dwarf appeared as if out of nowhere. He wore a rather elegant armour and his dark hair and beard was decorated with a web pattern with bright golden beads attached to it. "A fire eye, here? One who speaks the old tongue too"

Maglor nodded. "Yes, I…I know the old tongue. There are ten men in there, and they are armed"

The dwarf frowned. "You are helping them human farmers? Good folk they are, humble, simple, they don't bother us and we don't bother em"

Maglor smiled. "Yes, they asked for our help, we are…travellers"

The dwarf tilted his head. "An elf, travelling with a human, odd days are upon us."

Maglor whispered back. "They have one of your women?"

The dwarf made a grimace. "Two of them, were out gathering herbs and got surprised. These swine managed to drag them off before anyone noticed them"

Maglor nodded. "You have to attack fast, without hesitation. How many are you?"

The dwarf chuckled. "You do know us lad, we are fifteen hidden here"

Maglor let out a sigh of relief, there was no chance the culprits would escape no matter what happened and he grasped his sword. "You go ahead and lead the attack, we will follow"

The dwarf smiled. "A wise and polite elf, now that is a change. Alright lad, be careful"

The dwarf left the bushes and barked and order and suddenly a small army of stocky armoured warriors burst forth and attacked the hut with terrifying ferocity. The door was broken down in a matter of seconds and then the dwarves rushed in like a tidal wave of steel. Maglor and Aodh were close behind and saw that the men inside tried to fight back but in the confined space the short dwarves had an advantage and before long the men were hauled out, most of them dead, and those who weren't got killed immediately and with savage force. Maglor heard sobbing and shouts in the dwarven tongue and the dwarf he had spoken to carried a smaller body out of the hut. Maglor had to blink, it was a female and she was very young and pretty even by human standards. Her hair was long and black and she had a very elaborate dress on but it was torn and bloody. The dwarf was sobbing and Maglor saw that the female wasn't dead but probably dying, she could be forcing herself to let go of her body and leave for the halls.

Another dwarf carried another female out, this one was dead and there was no doubt about the way she had died, Maglor felt rage burning within him. Females are precious to the dwarves and this had to be a most terrible thing. The black haired one hadn't been raped but they had probably been ready to abuse her when they were attacked and Maglor sat down next to the sobbing warrior. "Your sister?"

The dwarf nodded. "Yes, the flower of our family"

Maglor stared at the pale face, this one wasn't even come of age and it was so goddamn wrong to see her lying there, white and lifeless. "I can try to help her"

The dwarf whipped his head up. "You can? Mahal bless you lad, if you can bring her back I will give you anything you would ask for, anything!"

Maglor remembered all he had learned, how to use his voice and how to use herbs and other medicine and he nodded. "I need some kingsweed, Athelas. It is a green plant with bright white flowers, preferably fresh"

One of the dwarves did grasp a pouch of some kind which had been attached to his belt, it did contain small boxes of wood and each held some leaves of herbs. "Is this anything you can use?"

Maglor stared at the collection, there were in fact athelas leaves in one of the small boxes and he grasped it and emptied the leaves into his hand. The leaves were almost fresh, the dwarves had to be able to grow this herb somehow for it was too late in the year for it otherwise. He crushed the leaves and held them under the young female's nose, then he started to chant. He sang about the light, the joy of life and the love of her family and he put all of his strength into it. Aodh stood there gaping and the dwarves looked awestruck. It felt like forever but suddenly the eyelids moved and the young one coughed and whimpered. The dark haired dwarf shook her gently, tears flowing down his cheeks. "Rhega, do you hear me? It is me, Azan, your brother"

The dwarrowdam coughed again and opened her eyes with a small groan, she was shivering and when she saw Azan she laid her arms around his neck and hid her face against his neck, trembling. Azan stared at the elf. "It is a miracle, you saved her. Mahal bless you lad!"

Maglor nodded. "There are humans coming, soldiers who follow me and Aodh here, go fast, we don't want anyone to see you. But I want to talk, I will stay here when they have gone, alright?"

Azan nodded. "I hear you lad, I will send someone back for you. "

He lifted the girl and carried her off as is she didn't weigh anything at all and Maglor stared at Aodh as the dwarves did disappear into the darkness. They were left there with the bodies of the men and the elf grimaced and started dragging the bodies into the hut. "Help me out, we need to burn these fuckers before anyone sees that we didn't kill them"

Aodh nodded and before long the hut was on fire and the two stood there staring at the flames. The soldiers did reach them and gaped, Suhran did blink. "You killed them all?"

Maglor nodded sternly. "Yes, they didn't anticipate an attack, and we thought that a burial would be something they didn't deserve."

The soldiers had seen what the elf and the tall blonde could do so they didn't doubt a word they were saying and Maglor let out a small sigh of relief. "So, I will take a small round and see if any of them weren't in the hut, just to make sure they all are dead. You may return to the caravan and wait for me there. I will join you again soon"

The soldiers did salute him and turned to walk back down the path and Suhran frowned. "Are you sure it is safe? This mountain area is dangerous, people have disappeared"

Maglor smiled. "Don't worry about us, go with the soldiers. You will be richly rewarded for your help."

Suhran did brighten up a lot, the idea of a reward seemed to really thrill him. Aodh waited until they had left before he said anything. "You have a plan, I can see it in your eyes"

Maglor nodded. "Yes, an idea. The dwarves can help me with something"

Aodh frowned but didn't say anything at all and before long a dwarf did appear out of the bushes again. "You are to follow me, our leader wants to meet you"

Maglor just smiled and nodded and Aodh shrugged and walked behind him. If Maglor did trust these dwarves then he did too. They walked for a while along a dark path and then they walked around a huge boulder and found a door in the rock itself, it was probably well hidden in daylight and Maglor whispered to Aodh. "Do not make any threatening moves and do not speak unless spoken to. They are proud people, it is easy to insult them by mistake"

Aodh tilted his head and nodded and Maglor followed the dwarf inside. The tunnel was short, then there was another door and now they entered light and fresh air. It was no mere settlement, this was a dwarven city and a huge one. Maglor had witnessed the splendour of the old ages and this did replicate that rather well. There were dwarves everywhere and he saw that some were surprised but none acted as if they didn't approve of his presence there.

Azan came running and grasped Maglor's hand, he was almost trembling. "Our healer says that she will be ok, she will live. You brought her spirit back, we are all grateful"

Maglor tried not to blush. "I only did what any decent person would"

Azan almost towed him into a small room where a very majestic looking old dwarf was waiting. The male was grey haired and very ancient but he still had strength and majesty and he got up and spread his arms with a smile. "Welcome, be very welcome go our city. You saved my granddaughter and for that I can never repay you in full"

Maglor had to gasp, the girl had been the king's grand child? That explained the invitation for sure. "I am glad I could help"

The dwarf walked down from the throne. He stared at Maglor with a sort of benign curiosity. "You are an elf, and no youngling for sure. Serving the emperor of the humans? Interesting! I would love to hear more of this "

Maglor smiled. "I would love to tell you everything you want to know my lord"

The dwarf cocked his head, he wore little jewellery compared with other dwarf kings Maglor had seen and he seemed to be rather outgoing and jolly too. "By all means, I am Grotnar, just call me that. Say, we have relatives to the west of here, the Orocarni mountains as they are called? You shouldn't have happened to have met any of them? We haven't heard from them in ages"

Maglor had to grin. "As a matter of fact, I have, some years ago"

Grotnar did almost jump up and down like a kid out of sheer eagerness. "Oh Mahal's beard, do tell, do tell!"

Maglor sat down on a chair a servant pulled out and started to explain everything Negus had told him and Grotnar was making some squeals of joy when he heard names he recognized. Maglor was sure the old dwarf would hug him at times. When he was done chatting Grotnar was wiping his eyes. "Oh Negus, I remember him as a wee lad ya see, went to visit when I was younger. Now me bones are aching and old, this was precious"

The dwarf leaned forth. "Is there anything we can do for ya master elf? Just name it!"

Maglor swallowed. "Could I borrow a forge, for a couple of days?"

Grotnar looked surprised. "Only that?"

Maglor smiled. "Yes, only that, and possibly some advice too if possible. There is something I need to make"

Grotnar frowned. "Right, we are willing to help lad, we have master smiths and all the right tools for just about anything"

Maglor bowed his head. "Then I am most grateful. I have the steel I need but to make a sword I need more than that"

Grotnar stared at him. "A sword you say? Ah, I sense something about you lad, you are no ordinary elf, and you carry something special too. I am not wrong now am I"

Maglor reached into his jacket and pulled out the small packet with the steel the old man gave him, it had an ominous shine to it. Grotnar gasped and let a finger run over the smooth surface with obvious reverence. "Star steel, I have never seen it and neither have my smiths but we know of it, aye we do. It is dangerous stuff you know"

Maglor nodded slowly. "Yes, I am aware of that, but I need to make a sword from it."

Grotnar lifted his chin. "And a sword you shall have lad, one like no other. We have all you need for it"

The elf frowned. "Your smiths, they have heard of it? How?"

Grotnar sighed. "We dwarves share knowledge, and one came here a long time ago, he had helped an elf forge blades from this steel, and an armour and although the process had scared him he told us about it. We have kept the knowledge ever since"

Maglor swallowed hard, there were no coincidences now where there. "That elf would have been Eohl, he was a genius but…slightly mad"

Grotnar chuckled. "Slightly? More like stark raving the way our relative described it but anyhow, come with me and I will show you to the forges"

Aodh had stood behind Maglor the whole time and the elf turned to him. "Go back to the caravan and tell them that I am pursuing a man who got away, tell them to wait for a week before moving on. Can you do that?"

Aodh frowned. "I do not want to leave you here, but I will do as you say"

Maglor patted him on his shoulder. "Great, tell them not to worry about me."

A servant showed Aodh the way out and Maglor followed Grotnar down winding corridors and stairs towards the forges. This city was vast and deep and he had never heard of it before but it was a wonderful place and he did see wonders everywhere. The dwarves here had a slightly other taste than the ones of Beleriand of old, here it wasn't so much straight lines and geometry as curves and geometry. It almost made him dizzy at times. Before long he stood in front of the forges and many smiths came to help him with his tasks, most were old and experienced and they seemed to know what he needed before he did. Tools and equipment was brought forth and with them gems and leather and other things he would need to complete the task. He was given a hood and a huge leather apron and it felt strange but he remembered the many hours of work he had spent in his father's forge and his lessons came back to him.

He started working, he had an idea and a vision and he stuck to it, even if this proved to be very hard. The steel refused to bow to his will and he had to fight it, all the time. The dwarven smiths did chant the whole time, a slow and steady rhythm which was hypnotic and he didn't understand even one word of what they were saying. This wasn't the khuzdul he had learned, this was something way more ancient and powerful. And as he worked he felt a presence which grew stronger and stronger, a conscience which was born out of steel and flames and it sent shivers down his spine.

It took him three whole days to get the shape right, then he had to quench the blade to harden it and he couldn't use water or oil, the dwarves told him that star steel had to be hardened in blood. They brought a whole tank of it, fresh blood from some animal and the blade seemed to scream in delight as it was plunged into the steaming red liquid. Then he had two days of grinding it and two more to assemble it and when he was done the sword didn't look like anything he had ever seen. He had rested rather often, for the blade seemed to drain his strength and now, whence it was finished that feeling was gone but it was replaced by an eerie feeling of familiarity. As if he had encountered the spirit of this sword before. It was a typical elven sword in shape, slightly curved and double edged with smooth elegant lines and an elegant hilt made from black wood and red leather, but it was ominous, so very much so. For now it was resting but soon it would awaken and he had no idea of what this thing was capable of doing, he only knew that he had to be strong to master it.

Grotnar did give him a huge opal which now served as the pommel, felled into the end of the hilt and it was white but sparkled in red and blue and orange and where the hilt met the blade the dwarves had insisted on him adding a narrow row of black diamonds. It did look amazing and it was a thing of absolute beauty but he knew within his heart that this too could be a thing of doom. The question was who's. The dwarves seemed reluctant to let him go, the girl he had saved came to bid him goodbye and her entire family expressed their gratitude very openly too. He felt rather sad as he left the city but the caravan was waiting for him and he missed Aodh.

The soldiers and the two concubines were relieved when he returned, they had feared for his safety and the delay wasn't welcome but they had rested and the horses had regained their strength. The guide was paid several gold coins and was beside himself with joy and the villages were also very happy since the scourge was removed and they were safe once more. Maglor said he had followed the man for days before killing him and taking his sword and Aodh had gasped when he saw the blade. It was not like any weapon the human had encountered and Maglor revealed the name to him, Yarmaica, blood blade. He had dreamed of it when he forged the steel and knew it was the right one. He got a sheath made for it and wore it always and he somehow knew that the thing knew he was its maker and that it never would turn on him but be deadly to any other who dared to wield it. Maglor felt impatient and the pace was raised to catch up with the time lost, he somehow felt that he was needed back in the capital, and he trusted his guts.

Ayjun had many servants working for him, some were rather powerful and one of those was a scribe by the name of Bak-lar, he was responsible for keeping a record of the expenses of the royal household and thus a very important person. He had to make sure that the budgets did add up and that nobody went unpaid or got paid too much or too little for the work they did. And he also had to make sure that there were money available whenever the ones responsible for buying stuff had to get something new, from horses to sheets. Bak-lar was an elderly man, a very friendly and well liked person who was renowned for his kindness and gentle disposition. He loved plants and animals and his house was filled with both, it did look like a greenhouse placed in a jungle and he spent his available time petting his animals and taking care of his orchids.

Ayjun did appreciate Bak-lar a lot, and the man had great riches and was very trusted and he had a whole army of his own servants but no wife and no children. Bak-lar was a eunuch and had accepted his fate and tried to place his affection on his protégé's instead. Now the old man was walking behind Ayjun, taking notes. The roof of one of the many buildings there had to be replaced and the emperor wanted to receive a proper estimate of the costs before the work was started. If it became too much it was better to tear the whole building down and build a new one for the roofs were very intricate and required skilled workers who knew how to place the beams and the tiles and everything correctly. One mistake and the whole thing could come crashing down. Behind Bak-lar came one of his own servants, a younger man who walked with a sort of table strapped to his torso, on it was papers and pens and other stuff Bak-lar needed and the man wore a nice uniform and was well fed and rather pretty. He was among the many slaves Bak-lar had bought to save and this man in particular had been in serious trouble for he was very beautiful as a child and since he had been castrated as a very young boy that fragile beauty was kept. Bak-lar had bought the boy from the owner of a brothel and now Yishma was among the scribes best servants. A man who was trusted and loved in his own way.

Yishma was very tall and gangly looking since he never had reached puberty and stopped growing, that was one of the downsides of the procedure he had been through and his voice was thin and shrill. As Bak-lar's personal secretary he received a great deal of respect and most of the others liked him, he was humble and hard working and very polite too. There were many eunuchs working for the emperor, some families sold off surplus sons to men who castrated the boys to make them better singers or to sell them as guards. The emperor had tried to stop this barbaric custom but to no prevail, it had continued and many died each year, bleeding to death in some dirty backroom where a so called surgeon had done his terrible work. Yishma didn't remember it, he had been too traumatized but he had never forgotten the feeling of betrayal, of having been tossed aside. His father had sold him because he already had five sons and needed money to send the oldest one off to an expensive school and young Yishma had been the sacrificial lamb.

But the man wasn't a lamb anymore and this nobody knew, not even his master. Yishma had become a fanatic over the years, a person consumed by an intense hatred. It was no religion which drove him, no belief in powers greater than himself. His guiding star was hatred, a deep and burning anger towards a society which had allowed this to happen to not only him, but countless others. And he saw the palace and the whole capital as the ultimate symbol of everything which was wrong with the world. He knew that the emperor tried to end the custom but in his eyes Ayjun hadn't tried hard enough and not with enough will and he despised both the emperor and all he stood for. But he never showed it, and the meetings he had with others like him were well camouflaged as harmless drinking parties for men who could find little pleasure elsewhere. Yishma had found ways to find the joys others had, there were toys and he still had his prostate and could in fact have orgasms but he could never father a child and to a people where the family line means more than anything that was a terrible blow and one he could never overcome fully. Bak-lar had been very kind to him, taught him a lot and let him have great freedom and soon the old man would discover the truth. Yishma and his fellow conspirators had great plans, plans which would transform everything, and punish the ones responsible for their misery in a manner which never would be forgotten. It was all ready, they just had to wait for the right moment and Ayjun was weakening now, his age did catch up with him. A coronation would be the perfect moment to strike, every official and person of power would be gathered there. And then they would all die, and he and his brothers would rise to power in their place and the world would change, into a better place, a much better place. He smiled to himself, Bak-lar was feeding a snake and soon he would discover that the hand which feeds a snake is bound to be bitten, sooner or later.