The Embalmer's Apprentice by Lyra

Chapter 24

In the meantime, I started asking around for a place to build a meeting place for the Society. A few weeks after Lady Arancalimë had authorised the statutes, I came home to find my house full of sacks of oats, horsebeans and onions for redistribution among the twelve listed members of our society (in truth, not all of my neighbours had wanted to sign up, though they certainly changed their mind after the food had been delivered, and then they told others and we could barely write down the names as fast as they came.) I knew I had asked for it, but I was nonetheless shocked that it had worked. Balakhil’s and Enrakôr’s bedroom became a storage room, which was all right for the time being, but it was clearly not a long-term solution, especially after the sudden growth of our membership meant a larger delivery the next time around.
But the city had grown since I had bought the little patch of land next to my house, and there were no plots for sale anywhere nearby. There was an old tavern in the butchers’ district that I could have bought with a loan from Lord Eärendur, but I did not want to have our meeting place too far away from my neighbourhood, and certainly not up in the inner circle where the neighbours would probably accuse our members of all sorts of misconduct just to get rid of us. There were also some patches of land available alongside the road to Rómenna, but I did not want to forego the protection of the city guards (as questionable as that was) nor the authority of Lord Atanacalmo (who had at least permitted the formation of the society), both of which ended at the city walls. Amraphel and I kept our ears open, but right now, it appeared that there was nothing to be done on that count. We sold the provisions off quickly, which was probably just as well, because that way they stopped being our responsibility.

When the work on the sewers was completed, Lord Atanacalmo held a reconciliatory feast for the neighbourhood that (aside from our own) had been most affected. The workers were not invited, but at least they received a modest bonus as they were discharged. When Lady Arancalimë arrived at the site to hand out the coins to them, her presence was received with such cheer and applause that, for a moment, she looked surprised and quite genuinely pleased before she had rearranged her features into the look of a lady who received such accolades all the time and accepted them as her due. She gave a small speech about the bright future of the city, a place of good order, prosperity and sanitary conditions, for which even the respectable shopkeepers gave her some cheer.
„Too bad about the bath-house, though,“ Târazôn reflected later on, for the end of the sewage works also meant the end of that daily luxury. „Do you think your society could build a bath-house down here?“
„Let me take care of the meeting-place first,“ I said.

But then I had very different things to worry about, because one payday Quentangolë told me, in a carefully nonchalant tone, that his Majesty wished to see me, right now. That in itself was astonishing because we had not heard from the King directly in months. He had lost the power to walk entirely at this point, and his appearances to the public – even a limited public of courtiers and councillors – had become rare and brief, even now that the days were growing warmer and longer again, which in the last years had always meant an improvement of the King’s condition. According to Lord Eärendur, the King could rarely focus on more than one issue at a time, and wearied very quickly; half an hour with the Council would be followed by half a day of recuperative sleep. With the exception of matters of life and death, the business of state rested entirely in the hands of the Crown Prince, although the Regent nominally had to ask his father’s permission for everything he did. I was therefore taken entirely by surprise by the summons, and asked Quentangolë whether he was certain that they came from the King himself. Of course he was. „And – I should not tell you this, but I feel you deserve a warning – he has heard about your side occupation, and is not happy about it.“
I swallowed hard, casting anxious glances at my colleagues, who of course had heard the exchange.
„I can confirm that Azruhâr has never neglected his work down here,“ Master Târik said. „Has his majesty asked for the rest of us, too?“
„No, you will not be needed at this time,“ Quentangolë said, and there was a heaviness in his voice that made my stomach clench with fear.

I accompanied Quentangolë up to the palace, trying half-heartedly to talk about innocent subjects but already so worried that I could barely keep my thoughts together, and Quentangolë was uncommonly serious, too. I asked him how badly angry the King was and whether he thought I had any hope of reassuring him. „It is hard to predict anything, these days,“ Quentangolë said. „Maybe he’ll have calmed somewhat after this afternoon’s nap.“ That did not exactly sound encouraging.
Quentangolë could not come with me all the way, since he still had work to do, so he left me in the care of a guard, who led me up unknown stairs and through unknown corridors. The guard was not unfriendly, so that was worth something. I was clearly walking through the private quarters of the King’s house now, not towards some secret dungeon, which was also worth a lot, but I still felt ill at ease.
„Let me see if his Majesty is awake and ready to see you,“ the guard told me, and for a moment, I hoped wildly that he would be asleep. But then, I’d probably have had to wait until he woke up again, and that could have been hours away. So I suppose I had to be grateful that the guard nodded when he came through the door, and then led me inside.

It was the King’s bedchamber. Or so I assumed. It was a bedchamber, at any rate, with an enormous gilded bed in the middle of it, with tapestries on the walls that depicted some kind of ideal forest in tones of blue, full of bright and beautiful flowers (underneath trees with lush crowns that would not have let through enough light for the flowers in a real forest), with thick velvet curtains and slender gilded chairs and rich carpets. The predominating colour was dark blue where it wasn’t gold, making me feel as if I were walking into the sea despite the forest imagery. Only the fireplace was lined in white stone, without any gilt on it. It could have been beautiful, but under the circumstances, it felt rather threatening, as if I really was about to drown.
In contrast to the luxury of the room, the air was filled with the acrid smell of piss and sickness, insufficiently counteracted by smoldering sticks of incense. It was a suffocating combination, and if I had not already found breathing difficult because of my fear, then surely that unholy mixture of sweet incense and sour illness would have made my breath catch in my throat.
His majesty half-sat on the bed, propped up by plenty of pillows, and although he was certainly awake and giving me a narrow-eyed glare, he looked worse than Old Palatâr after his stroke. The once-proud face had lost much of its flesh, and his skin had an unhealthy jaundiced tone.

And yet, in his bony hands rested the power to destroy me; and when I knelt at his bedside, one of these hands clasped the fabric of my tunic like a talon. His grip was not particularly strong; I could have pried the frail old fingers away from my shoulder, if I had dared. But of course I did not dare.
„You called for me, your Majesty; here I am,“ I said. I’d hoped to sound calm and collected, but there was no masking the tremour in my voice.
„There you are,“ the King said sternly. „Yes. Long overdue.“
I wondered whether I had missed any previous summons, but before I could ask, he was already going on. „We hear things about you, Azrubêl, all sorts of things. Secret societies. Building houses. Breaking up riots… betraying my trust! When you should stick to your duty and work on my preservation!“
I was spluttering as if a wave had hit me squarely in the face in the middle of taking a breath. I didn’t even know where to begin. „It’s Azruhâr, Majesty--“
„I know it’s Azruhâr! Azruhâr is everywhere these days, it seems, just not in the catacombs where his ungrateful carcass should be! Traitor, oathbreaker, vilest of the vile!“

At this barrage of reproof, my mouth opened and closed impotently before I could think of something to say. „Lord King, I am no traitor - I assure you that I did not neglect my work -“
„Then how do you explain these stories? Are you telling me that Alcarmaitë has been fed lies? I do not believe it! He has reliable informants! He will have looked into these stories! He would not have troubled his old father with lies!“
„Please, your Majesty, let me explain!“ I had almost shouted these last words; I was certainly too loud for the royal presence, and I could see his jaw work angrily at that, but at least he was too surprised to act at once. I pushed on, hoping to make my point before he called the guard on me. „There is some truth to these stories, but it has been twisted to make my actions sound far more extreme than they are! Yes, I have founded a new society, but there is nothing secret about it, I did it openly and in accordance with the law. I did all the planning in the evenings and nights, so my work did not suffer from it. And yes, I am looking for a place to build. Surely I may do that, in my own time? But I have not even found one yet, and if I had, I would hire others to do the building while I am in the catacombs where I should be. The only time I was not in the catacombs during my working hours was when Lady Arancalimë explicitly commanded me to be present – it was she who broke up the riot, if that’s what you want to call it. And I worked the following Valanya to make up for the lost time. I am not neglecting my duty, your Majesty. I am as devoted to your cause as ever. I would never betray you. Please believe me.“ I twisted my head so I could kiss the hand that had clasped my shoulder, shuddering a little at the sinewy feel of it - but more at the thought of what his accusations could mean for me. Traitor, oathbreaker, vilest of the vile – the very worst you could be condemned for, and the very worst punishment. And I did not even deserve it!

The King’s breath was coming fast, and I knew that he was still not mollified. Again, his mouth was chewing angrily before he spoke. „If you are doing your duty, then why are you not showing me any progress? Where is the great success of your new method? Have you forgotten that I am running out of time?“
I shook my head. „No, Lord King, though I do not want it to be true, I have not forgotten. But it has only been a year since we have entombed our most promising experiment, too soon to know if it passes the test of time. I can neither stop nor speed time, your Majesty!“ Again, I kissed his hand, hoping to soothe him in this way.
But he pulled the hand away. „It is not too soon to know if it lasts one year, or not even that! I may not have more than a year! Get yourself out of my sight. I am too tired to be just tonight. Tomorrow you will come back, and then I shall decide on your punishment. Go! Leave me in peace. I am severely disappointed.“
„I beg your pardon, your Majesty. Good night, your Majesty.“ I was on the verge of tears. Numbly, I followed the soldier through the corridors, considering my options. I had not neglected my duties, I told myself. We had gone on with our experiments; we had documented it all; there was sufficient proof that I had been busy with my proper work. It was not my fault that we needed time to prove our new method. Of course, that would not help me when the King decided that I had betrayed his trust and deserved to be punished as a traitor and oath-breaker. Drawn through the streets to public scorn, three days of the most excruciating torment, and then whatever was left of me would be strung up by the neck until the last spark of life was extinguished. That was what they did with traitors, I thought darkly. Not enough left intact for my colleagues to use. Food for the birds. I very nearly was sick on the precious carpet right then and there.

I therefore gave little heed to my surroundings and did not even think to stop when I heard familiar voices somewhere ahead, apparently rapt in conversation:
„… cannot for the life of me get behind it.“
„It appears to be quite genuine. Have you considered that nothing may be behind it?“
„So I keep hearing, but how can that be believed?“
Neither my guide nor I intended to surprise the interlocutors, but the carpet muffled our steps, and the talking men clearly did not notice our coming until we rounded the corner, and I lifted my stinging eyes and stared at none less than the Crown Prince and Lord Atanacalmo, who were in turn staring at me and the guard in utter bafflement, looking almost comically guilty, as if we’d caught them locked in an intense kiss. The guard stood to attention, and I hastily went on my knees.
„What are you doing here?“ the Crown Prince rounded up on me, his voice shrill with anger. „How long have you been spying?“
„I’ve only just left his Majesty’s chamber, your Highness,“ I hastened to explain, „we were just walking along! I was not spying!“
„It is true, Highness,“ the guard confirmed to my great relief. „I did not realise that your Highness were having a private conversation, or I would have chosen a different route. I beg your pardon.“
„Do not be concerned, we were not speaking about anything important,“ Lord Atanacalmo said airily, evidently amused by his nephew’s passionate reaction. „I am certain Azruhâr has been busy telling my brother bedtime stories, or whatever else is his purpose these days.“ He turned to the guard. „Get him out of here! It’s getting late, and we don’t want to host him for the night, do we?“ He made a dismissive gesture with his head, and both the guard and I were happy to obey and get away from them as quickly as we could without running. I heard Lord Atanacalmo’s laughter behind us. „Don’t look like that, Alcarmaitë. He’s a harmless fool. Let him go.“ Even under the circumstances, that remark struck me somewhere where it hurt, and I made a fist, although I honestly had more pressing problems than Lord Atanacalmo’s low opinion.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t wrong. I really had been a fool to think that I could take on additional duties without incurring the King’s displeasure. Even though I did not feel that I had neglected my work, what did that matter if the King felt that I had? And since he clearly saw the world filtered through the eyes of the Crown Prince, it had been folly to step out so far of my place. Now my world was falling apart, and everything I had built in the past months, even years, threatened to crumble. But then, of course, I should never have built it. I wondered whether Lord Atanacalmo had given his permission so easily because he had known that he would not be bound by it for long; that I was heading straight into ruin. Maybe he had been doing the Crown Prince’s work even without cutting out my tongue. (Which might yet happen, my mind unhelpfully supplied.) I wondered whether I should even go home, or whether it would be wiser to make for the coast and try to find a ship that would take me to the Colonies, so that I would be far out at sea when the King made his decision. It would be better to face the terror of the boundless ocean – better even to drown in it – than to be sent to a traitor’s gruesome death. But no; I had to at least warn Amraphel so she and the children could take refuge in Lord Eärendur’s house. I had to say my goodbyes. And I also ought to warn my colleagues, in case the King’s anger wasn’t limited to my own person.

It was almost beyond me to walk into my cozy home, crowded and well-lit as usual, and to betray nothing to Târinzil and the other visitors; to smile and make small talk and eat and drink, without constantly thinking that this was probably the last time I was seeing them. I excused myself early, pretending to be exhausted. Amraphel, of course, had noticed that something was off, and followed me as quickly as she could; and then, I told her the whole tale.
„There is still hope, isn’t there?“ she said after a long silence. „If he sent you away because he knew he would not judge you fairly tonight, then he seems to care that he will be just. You can try to make your case again tomorrow, and maybe the King will be willing to forgive you. Not that there really is anything to forgive in the first place.“
„As if that matters.“ I wrapped my arms around my knees, trying to steady myself. „I suppose he might. But I’m sure the Crown Prince will keep him in an unforgiving mood. He knows things one moment and forgets them the next, and who can remind him? And he is so frail. All that power should not be with such a frail man.“
I should not normally have allowed myself to think, let alone utter such a treasonous thought, but now, it hardly made a difference. Amraphel held me close, leaning her head against mine. „I shall try to bribe the executioner. And you should speak to Lord Eärendur; maybe he can talk the King into a more merciful mood.“
And then we wept together, because there really was nothing else to do.

In the next morning, I kissed my children goodbye, and I kissed Amraphel goodbye, and I very nearly broke into tears when Azruphel asked me to bring home some spare paper so she could paint new pictures. I told Balakhîl to take the day off. When I came to the catacombs, I learned that Master Târik would not be with us today; some soldiers had taken him along to the Noirinan, where they were to collect Palatâr’s body. I hoped they would not mistreat Master Târik. I hoped he would again tell them that I had been dutiful as ever. „If you want to clobber me around the head, now would be the time,“ I told Karathôn, trying to affect a bravado I didn’t feel.
He gave me the tiniest of slaps on the back of my head. „It’s not over yet,“ he said. „Besides, you said you’d take responsibility, and you can’t do that if I clobber you first.“
After work, a guard appeared a the entrance to the morgue, telling us to present ourselves at the palace for the sixth hour. We agreed to meet again at the half-hour, and departed with heavy hearts. I ran rather than walked to Lord Eärendur’s house.
But Lord Eärendur was not there; he had departed for Andúnië a few days earlier. „Would you like me to take a message?“ his elderly steward asked.
„That won’t be necessary, unless you can stop an execution,“ I said before I could hold my tongue. I should simply have said „No, thank you,“ of course, but the terror in my heart needed to get out.

The steward looked around the empty street. „I think you’d better come inside,“ he said then, „and tell me more.“
He took me to his room and listened to my tale, nodding earnestly and making small sympathetic noises to keep me talking. „My lord has left instructions for the case of such an event. Wait here,“ he told me when I was done, and then disappeared upstairs. I waited. The steward’s small room was quite comfortable and had a nice view out into the front garden, yet I felt enclosed and downcast as if were already locked in a prison cell.
When the steward returned, he opened his hand to reveal a tiny glass bottle and a silver coin. „I am sorry I cannot offer you anything more hopeful,“ he said earnestly. „I am told that this poison makes unsusceptible to pain. Mind you, it will also destroy your mind, but if you are about to be executed, I expect that should not concern you...“
I nodded despondently, looking at the vial. It held a clear liquid, and the only thing that suggested that the contents were anything more valuable – and dangerous – than water was that the stopper had been sealed all around to keep it securely in place.

The steward was now speaking very matter-of-factly, as if assigning work to a gardener or builder. „You must wait until after the hearing, if there is to be a hearing,“ he explained. „Otherwise, you won’t have the wits to defend yourself, and moreover, they’ll notice that you’ve taken something. After you’ve been condemned, try to drink it in secret just before they put the yoke on you. Otherwise, you’ll have to bribe one of the guards.“ He held out the coin – a full Tree – to me. „If someone catches you at it, you did not get this from me. Do you understand that? It is of the utmost importance. You did not get any help here. I gave you my sympathy, then sent you away. You went to the black market, behind the brothels. You bought this from someone who was wearing a deep hood. It cost you all of three Trees. Maybe you remember something about their hands – a scar or something – that may save you further torture. Make something up, but do not incriminate my lord, you hear me?“
I nodded; I could not speak. I hoped I would remember these things. The steward put the little vial into my hands. „Keep it in your loincloth. That’s the last thing they’ll take away from you. The drug will turn you insensate pretty quickly – you’ll probably notice it setting in early through the drag, and then you’ll stop knowing what’s going on. It will extinguish your mind. You’ll thrash and cry but you won’t properly feel it – that’s the important thing, isn’t it?“
Again, I nodded dully.
The steward briefly clasped my hands and looked me in the eye, and I could see genuine concern in his gaze. I struggled hard to maintain my composure. „My lord has left instructions for your family also. When I hear that you are condemned, I will send servants to help them pack. I hope that this will not be necessary. Do not take it until all hope is lost. It will surely ruin you, even if the King won’t,“ he said by way of goodbye. „Eru keep you.“ I still had no words.
He gently steered me to the door, where he made a great show of telling me that his lord was absent, and that – alas -- he could not help me. It was so convincing that even I very nearly believed it and felt tears running down my cheek, and only the cold touch of the vial and the coin in my loincloth reminded me that I had actually received help.

The palace was brightly lit when Karathôn, Mîkul and I arrived there. Master Târik was waiting for us outside. „They did not permit me to be present while they open the bandages – in case I try to hush up anything, I suppose,“ he said. He sounded calm and collected, and while we waited to be called into the throne room, he answered my colleague’s questions. No, the guards had not been unkind to him, merely imperious and disinclined to listen to anything he said. Yes, they had handled Palatâr’s body with the necessary caution so it hadn’t been destroyed by the journey – outwardly, at least. No, he had not spoken to the King or anybody else of importance. No, he did not know what exactly we were going to face, and whether it would be extended to all of us or me alone. Yes, he was a little worried, but there was no point in getting worked up now; he had spent all day with a prayer in his heart, and was simply going to hope for the best. „On the outside, there was no sign of decay. He looked just as we left him. I had no chance to see underneath the bandages, but,“ he smiled lopsidedly, betraying his anxiety, „maybe all is well. Then surely the King will have mercy.“
„Maybe,“ I said, sitting on my hands. The bottle and coin had warmed to the temperature of my body, but they rubbed unpleasantly against my thigh.

It felt like late at night when the drone of conversation in the throne room came to an end. Two guards emerged from the throne room, asking in their efficient, gruff tone who had been responsible for the wrapping. I could feel my colleagues’ eyes on me. Very slowly, I got to my feet. Such a simple motion, and yet it took such an effort. I wondered whether the contents of the bottle had diffused through the glass and into my skin, already affecting my wits, but of course it was simply the fear that paralysed me.
„Come along,“ the guard said, not unkindly, gesturing at the open door. He was not shoving me or gripping my arm, for which I was grateful, so I made myself move forwards to give him no reason to use force. One step, and then another. Towards the door, and then through it. I walked like a sleepwalker. Everything felt strange and unnatural, too bright, too loud, too intense.
„You too,“ the second guard said to the others when I had passed. I tried to continue to breathe.
The throne room was even more brightly lit than the hallway outside, and the candlelight was reflected by the gold and the polished marble into an almost festive light. The poor old King had been carried to his high seat, where he sat precariously, cushioned on all sides. He appeared to be trembling with the effort. The Queen half-sat on the armrest of the throne, much more composed than her husband, but wearing an expression of barely masked disgust. The Crown Prince was giving me his most hate-filled stare, so furious that it made me break into a sweat. Lord Atanacalmo, in contrast, was wearing his usual look of perpetual amusement, lounging back in his councillor’s chair like a spectator enjoying the show.
I went on my knees, as I thought, hurriedly, but I seemed to move with the tedious slowness of a wave struggling to break against the wind. My senses were overly alert, startled by the flickering candles, the rustling of fabrics as my colleagues genuflected behind me. One of the guards cleared his throat, and it sounded like thunder in my ears.

The body of Palatâr, cut free of the bandages we had so painstakingly prepared and wrapped and sealed a year ago, lay stark naked on a bier at the foot of the throne’s stairs. There was a bright red gash in his thigh which had not been there when we had wrapped him, and I assumed that this had happened when the guards had cut through the bandages. Some blood had escaped from the wound and run down the wax-like skin, and that, I suppose, was what broke through the fatalistic paralysis that had taken hold of me. I had promised Palatâr that we would treat him well, not that he would be put on display, naked, in front of the King and his exalted family, with some bumbling guard slashing at his bandages and his flesh with his careless dagger. The fear in my heart was replaced by anger, and I rose up and cried out, full of frustration and reproach, „You cut him!“ as I rushed over to Palatâr’s body.

Yet in spite of his embarrassing condition and the wound he had received, the expression on Palatâr’s face almost resembled that of Lord Atanacalmo: serene, no, very nearly cheerful, amused by a joke that only he knew. The bloating had been minimal, due to the chemicals and the constraining bandages and the death mask: his features had not melted, though the wrinkles had been smoothed out, so that Palatâr was now looking younger than he had died. In spite of the waxy quality of his skin and the unnaturally stiff posture, one could have believed that he was asleep and dreaming some pleasant dream – if not for the nasty cut on his leg, which wept another slow red tear even as I was watching. I balled my fists and gave the King such a dirty look that in retrospect I am amazed they did not cut off my head then and there.
And then, Lord Atanacalmo began to laugh. It made me grit my teeth and tear my eyes off the King and instead fix my angry glare on him, and he simply laughed – not in a malicious way, simply like a man who had just realised how absurd the whole situation was, and could not help but laugh.
„Yes, they cut him when they opened the bandages. Calm yourself, man, it was an accident. He has not complained, and neither should you. He’s been beyond caring for a year.“
I heard Master Târik’s voice behind me, soft with astonishment, „He is bleeding. He should not be bleeding after a year.“

I had not even thought about that. Master Târik was right, of course. A body that had been dead for so long could have dried up completely, or it could contain all sorts of disgusting liquids, and they could all have burst forth from Palatâr’s skin as soon as it was disrupted, and instead, his body had held its shape perfectly and just slowly, almost lazily, dripped forth a reddish fluid that, to all intents and purposes, might still have been blood. It did not have the rusty tang of blood, but neither did it stink of putrefaction; indeed, the only smell around the body was the carbolic smell of the salts we had used in the cleaning and disinfection, underneath the hearty aroma of the resin.
Nonetheless, I had no mind for that marvellous realisation, because it did not change the matter that the King’s guards had, in their haste and carelessness, destroyed our hard work and violated the body that Palatâr had trusted to me. It was very hard to unclench my fists and bow my head and, instead of further reproaching them, to say, „I must ask your Majesty’s permission to let me suture that cut and to wrap him again before – before my punishment.“
My simple request seemed to surprise the King so much that he stopped to tremble, while the Crown Prince leaned forward and asked, his voice dripping with venom, „What, do you not trust your fellow embalmers to do it properly in your place?“
„I know they would do it properly, but nonetheless, Palatâr entrusted his body into my care. It is my responsibility that he is kept well, and I think I did it well enough the first time, so I should be allowed to do it again,“ I argued. I could hear the bitterness in my voice, and so, surely, could he; it was beyond me to contain it.
It looked as though the Crown Prince wanted to respond to that, but by now, the King had caught up with the conversation, and he asked in his creaky old voice, sounding thoroughly baffled, „Punishment? Who is talking about punishment? Silly boy, there is no punishment for work well done!“

I very nearly cried in my relief, and to my amazement, the King really was crying. But they must have been tears of joy, because he told me to come to him, and as I knelt on the steps to the high dais of the throne, he patted my head and announced that he had not misplaced his trust after all, and that of course I should restore Palatâr’s wrappings and continue doing my good work, and that, having seen the dedication and care I showed even to the least of his subjects, he was now certain that he would be in good hands when his time came.
The Crown Prince, clearly displeased with this development, interrupted these delightful reassurances. „Surely it is too early to rely on that,“ he said coldly. „It has only been a year!“
At that, the King actually laughed, in his wheezing way, as if he had not been blinded by tears mere moments ago. „Of course it has only been a year! We did not give him more than a year!“
I kept my head lowered, so I did not see how the Crown Prince reacted to that, but I cannot deny that my heart was filling with a savage and quite inappropriate triumph.

Old Palatâr was brought back down into the catacombs, and I immediately set back to work. It was Master Târik who suggested that I at least send a messenger to my family if I planned to stay away for the night, considering what they might think had happened. Mîkul kindly volunteered to inform Amraphel and Karathôn promised to explain things to Lômenil, since Master Târik did not wish to leave me alone. We all embraced, laughing and crying at the same time, and then Karathôn and Mîkul left us in order to make it out of the citadel before the doors were locked for the night. Karathôn passed a few tiny wax-paper envelopes to Master Târik just before he hurried up the stairs, and Master Târik took the jar of arsenic off the shelf. I stared. There was an unspoken code of honour never to steal any of the expensive materials we used at work, and yet Karathôn had evidently snuck out a great amount of the dangerous stuff. And Master Târik didn't even reprimand him for it. I stared, and Master Târik said calmly, „Enough to kill four grown men. We felt that it might be preferable to the scaffold.“
I nodded. I did not mention the glass bottle in my loincloth.
Master Târik washed his hands and began to prepare the tools and materials, and I did not even realise at the time how strange it was that he was working as my assistant, rather than the other way round. I dried the cut on Palatâr’s leg, and because I was worried that it might become a starting point for putrefaction, I cleaned it with pure spirits before sewing it shut, then treated the locale with a generous dose of the preservative salts.
„It was not actually blood,“ Master Târik observed as I cleaned away the remains of the red smear. „It must have been some fluid that the salts drew out of the tissue.“ He took out the protocol we had written when we’d first embalmed Palatâr, preparing to take additional notes.
„I expect you’re right. But it looked like blood, at first sight.“
Master Târik smiled that lopsided smile again. „Yes, I thought it was blood at first, too. And it certainly made an impression – a corpse that bleeds!“

Yes; it had made an impression. A corpse preserved so well that the blood of life was still flowing. It had been the impression that I’d needed. I still felt light-headed, as if I’d balanced on the edge of a high cliff, and lost my balance, and just barely managed to stumble down on the safe side of the edge. I was so relieved and so eager to make good what had been done to Palatâr that I did not even feel my exhaustion until hours later, when the bandages had been wrapped in place and needed to dry before sealing. I told Master Târik that I’d just shut my eyes for a short moment, and then I promptly fell asleep on the work bench. He let me. My dreams were wild and strange, but I do not remember the details, just that they left me with an overall sense of dread and paranoia. Still, I remember very clearly that in the end, I was running from something through a blue wood, and there I came across Palatâr. In the strange way in which dreams work, we began to walk together, leisurely, as if my hunters could not touch me in his presence. I told him what had happened and apologised that I had been unable to protect him, and he said that it was quite all right, he had not felt the cut. Indeed, he found most of the story uproariously funny. „So I had an audience with the King,“ he asked, „entirely in the nude?“ And he laughed and laughed until he faded away, and I was alone again.
And then I woke up because Mîkul and Karathôn had returned, and a new work-day had begun.