He had been born in the lower city of Bekla, the bastard of a common prostitute. By the age of ten he had already been trained both to tout and to steal and, being a very personable child when clean, had also learned a good deal on his own account about turning to profit the sexual propensities of grown men and women. At this time his mother, having taken up with a gang of thieves and realizing that her life was in danger through knowing too much about a murder, fled across the Vrako and ended in Zeray, leaving Sencho to fend for himself. A certain steward who pandered to his master's proclivities, catching sight one day of the handsome child begging at the back door, gave him a place in the kitchen; and a week or two later, having satisfied himself that his judgment had been correct and that the lad would do, brought him before his master, the prosperous iron-merchant Fravak.
Fravak, sitting in his courtyard after dinner on an afternoon of early summer, thrust a hand tipsily under the boy's tunic and, fondling and pinching, questioned him about his past experience, concluding by requiring him to demonstrate one or two of his claims. Some time later, before settling himself comfortably to sleep, he instructed the steward to take Sencho away and prepare him for his future role in the household.
For the next ten or twelve weeks the boy was confined to a luxuriously-furnished room on the upper floor of Fravak's mansion. Here he had a private balcony and bathroom and his own personal slave, a girl from Gelt who said little but carried out conscientiously her duties of attending to his health, of oiling and massaging his body and above all, of compelling him to eat.
He was required to eat almost from morning to night-- quantities of rich, delicious food, gradually increased as the weeks went by. Whenever he would not or could not eat more he was beaten with a pliant cane, until he lay screaming on the thickly-carpeted floor. When he succeeded in eating even more than was demanded of him he was rewarded with gifts; pretty boxes, combs and necklaces, or with money which he was encouraged to send the slave-girl out to spend on his behalf.
When not eating or sleeping he lay in the sun, in order that his smooth, oiled flesh might not grow pallid with confinement; learned to read, write and sing; and practiced certain other skills in which his master wished him to become adept.
After some three months he had acquired an almost insatiable capacity for rich food and become, in his upstairs boudoir, as plump as a quail ready for the pot. His cunning was no less but his well-being and energy had much increased. At once firm and soft, his buttocks, arms and legs dimpled with chubby, rosy flesh, his belly round and smooth as a gourd, he was again presented to the merchant to take up the duties for which he had been so assiduously prepared.
At first, however, he had relatively little to do by day. When his master returned from business in the evening, Sencho would prepare his bath and then join him in it to soap and oil him; and later, would dry and massage him, either on the balcony or, if it were the rainy season, in the warmth of the bedroom.
After this he would accompany him to dinner and wait upon him. The boy learned to carve, to serve vegetables and cheeses, to pour wine and to mix all manner of liquors and syllabubs. Watching him as he went about his duties, the merchant would sigh with contentment and, when the other servants had been dismissed from the room, would call him to stand beside his couch, loosen his clothes and caress his limbs and body. Then, shuddering with pleasure and drawing the boy down beside him in the cushions, he would sodomize him.
Sencho's sharp wits did not desert him, and neither did his constant awareness of where his own best interests lay. The merchant, as he grew older and still more wealthy, acquired other boys and these Sencho, so far from treating with jealousy or malice (which would only have precipitated his own return to the gutter or the slave market), took care to encourage and to praise to his master, at the same time making sure that Fravak appreciated that he himself had played a large part in preparing and training them for his enjoyment. By imperceptible degrees his function in the household changed from that of a catamite to a procurer and supervisor of the iron-merchant's pleasures.
No boy could hope to remain long in Fravak's favor unless he cultivated Sencho's as well, but a boy who showed that he was ready to accept Sencho's instructions was given them in full measure, since it suited Sencho to be relieved of the tedious task of simulating enjoyment in order to flatter and gratify the merchant. Besides, he was now beginning to take more than a little interest in women and accordingly preferred to avoid wasting nights in his master's bed. By the time he was sixteen, though he sometimes, at the merchant's bidding, used to amuse him by bringing girls to his room and there doing with them as he wished, he played almost no other direct part in his pleasures.
Next--watching every opportunity to run errands to and from those with whom Fravak did business, and to accompany him to the metal-market and his warehouses--he set himself to learn all that he could about the iron trade and Fravak's interests in it. Making himself agreeable to other dealers, who knew his influence with Fravak and wished to make use of him if they could, he kept his ear close to the ground.
One day, having slipped away to the house of a copper-merchant who had more than once importuned him, he was refreshing himself in the bath after the strenuous activities required of him, when a friend of his new patron called on business. Having been hospitably Offered them by the copper-merchant, this friend also availed himself of the boy's pleasant services. Afterwards the two men, relaxing contentedly over their wine, spoke frankly and unguardedly together of certain business plans, while Sencho lay in bed pretending slumber. What he heard that afternoon, duly related to Fravak, saved his master from becoming the victim of a scheme which would almost certainly have ruined him.
Understanding from henceforth what a pearl he had in Sencho--for the matter was complicated, and not every youth would have comprehended the significance of what he had overheard--Fravak henceforth gave him every opportunity to educate himself in the business. Once, having been entrusted with an important mission to Gelt itself, he returned with not only the problem untangled but also a pretty little boy whom he had spotted in an iron-master's household and bought for Fravak on his own initiative. This was characteristic of his cunning, for while building up his own grasp of the business he also took care to see that Fravak, as he aged, became more and more indolent and addicted to luxury. After a time his dependence upon Sencho became virtually complete.
Sencho, however, was too clever to cheat his master, knowing that the merchant, who was (or had once been) no fool, would be expecting and watching for him to do just this. He was after a far bigger prize.
The accounts he rendered were honest and accurate. The reports and news which he brought to Fravak were reliable. He himself lived plainly and took care that his sprees were intermittent and indulged away from the household. Except when bidden, for his master's titillation and amusement, he never touched any girl about the place. Over the years he was successful in convincing the lonely and aging merchant of what he wanted to believe; namely, that here at least was one friend who fell genuine affection and loyalty towards him, one whom he could trust and who deserved his gratitude. For the merchant (like Occula) felt a need for someone towards whom he could honestly feel he had behaved generously.
One spring day, when Sencho was in his twenty-fifth year, the elderly Fravak revealed to him that he had made him his heir and intended him, as the reward of his faithful services, to succeed to the control of the iron business. Sencho, who did not mean to remain buying and selling meta' all his life, now realized that it was vital that he should take the next step before anything might happen to cause Fravak to change his mind.
The murder was astonishingly easy. At this particular time the merchant had two favorites, one a merry, lewd-minded little Yeldsashay boy, ten years old and shaping well; the other, who had been longer in the household, a dark, handsome, thirteen-year-old Katrian, taken in a raid across the Zhairgen north of Dari-Paltesh, not popular in the household on account of speaking
little or no Beklan and all too plainly regarding himself as still an enemy of Bekla. At first Fravak had greatly enjoyed this boy, but of late had begun to prefer the Yeldashay lad as being more ingenious and reciprocal. Sencho, who of course had a key to his master's room, simply went to it in the middle of the night when Fravak and the lad were asleep, stabbed them both and then left the knife and his key in the Katrian boy's bed. As Fravak's heir and representative at law he gained credit for earnestly begging the authorities that the boy, on account of his youth, should receive a quick and merciful death. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to be tortured, for those in extremis speak the truth, and an experienced examiner is adept at perceiving when they are doing so. The boy's continued insistence on his innocence might have given rise to speculation.
At first Sencho was content to use Fravak's money in pitting his wits against other iron-merchants, in entering new areas of trade--cloth, rope and precious stones--and in indulging his greed and lust more fully and pleasantly than had been possible before. Fravak had been a sound rather than an enterprising merchant and, despite the fact that he traded a great deal in iron required for weapons and armor, had never felt any inclination, in his dealings with the Beklan military commanders, to advance himself other than financially. By contrast, Sencho was consumed with the desire for real and actual power.
At this period of the empire's history--inevitably, in a semi-barbaric country where roads and transport were still rudimentary--the scope of the central authority was limited. Bekla itself, of course, was a natural focal point or hub for communications and trade. Centuries before, the barons of Bekla, able to exercise control over this important cross-roads and commercial center, had turned the city's position to advantage by collecting dues from those who came to trade in or travel through it. These had been Senda-na-Say's ancestors--controllers of an asset which the provinces around them could not well do without, and for the benefit of which they were accordingly ready to pay. Later, as Bekla's prestige, wealth and strength gradually grew, they also became prepared to bid against one another for its support. Lapan would ask for protection against Yelda, Urtah against Paltesh, and so on. It became Bekla's policy to exploit a rudimentary balance of power. Sometimes payment was made in money, cattle or slaves; sometimes by way of a pact which further extended Beklan authority.
Gradually a hegemony emerged, centering on Bekla and extending from Belishba to the Vrako and from Yelda to the Telthearna. But although Bekla now collected taxes and controlled a standing army made up of contingents from the provinces, the autonomy of the provincial barons was certainly not at an end.
Once, for example, when the army had been ordered to Sarkid to enforce a Beklan tax decree, the Sarkid contingent deserted at the frontier, the army encountered strong local resistance and the end of the business was a very nominal and face-saving enforcement of the decree for a year, after which it was conveniently forgotten. Sarkid, of course, with its ruling line descended from the legendary hero U-Deparioth, had always been an exceptionally proud and independent province, but the incident exemplified clearly enough that the provinces and their baronial rulers were by no means entirely under Beklan control.
The provincial barons met yearly, in the great Palace on the Leopard Hill, at the time of the spring festival held to celebrate the Sacred Queen's ceremonial union with the god Cran. At these meetings oaths of loyalty were sworn, the empire's affairs-in-common were discussed and policy more-or-less agreed upon; but the house of na-Say had learned, over many years, that the continuance of its power was only partly dependent upon intimidation. Equally important were first, the benefits it could grant or withhold-- namely, help in emergency, assistance with civil works and enforcement of law and order--and secondly, the exercise of a prudent discretion in ignoring provincial quarrels un-less and until they went too far.
The empire's intermittent war with Terekenalt, on its western borders, had lasted longer than living memory. The kingdom of Terekenalt was a relatively small country, no bigger than two Beklan provinces put together, but its people were hardy, warlike and almost entirely loyal to an able monarchy. The war, conducted in difficult country between armies able to campaign effectively only during the summer months, was for the most part an affair of personal exploits, skirmishes, raids, burnings and lootings. Every now and then, however, under the leadership of some determined captain on one side or the other, it would flare up into a more serious business. The Zhairgen, down the last fifty miles of its length, represented a considerable obstacle between the contestants. Nevertheless, it was crossed again and again by commanders of both sides eager to prove their worth and to take booty.
The principal contested area was Suba, the watery region lying between the Zhairgen on the west and its tributary, the Valderra, on the east. This, somewhat tenuously owing allegiance to Urtah, was (as Occula described it in her story) marsh and fishing country, full of lakes, criss-crossed by tributaries of both rivers and inhabited from time immemorial by men inured to swamps and mists, accustomed to building their dwellings on islands or even on stilts above the water, and expert in the use of rafts, boats and nets. To the Beklans it was unarguable that the natural frontier between Terekenalt and the empire was the River Zhairgen. The kings of Terekenalt considered that it should be the River Valderra. From time to time Terekenalt would invade Suba--insofar as anyone could effectively invade such a country--until the empire, goaded into concerted action, would mount an expedition to re-pulse so serious a threat to Urtah and Paltesh.
Immediately to the west of the Zhairgen lay the Terekenalt province of Katria, the northern part of which comprised the wild and dangerous Blue Forest. Keril, the principal town of Katria, had more than once been menaced by a Beklan raiding force, but never as yet taken.
So matters stood some two or three years after Sencho's inheritance of the wealth of Fravak. About this time there appeared two figures--one on each side--whose respective effects were to strengthen Terekenalt's ambition to take Suba; and to weaken the resistant power of Paltesh and hence of the empire itself.
On the one hand, King Karnat succeeded to the throne of Terekenalt. Even in a long line of warlike kings, Karnat was egregious. In the first place he was, physically, almost a giant--immensely tall, and well-made in proportion. The very sight of him was enough to inspire his subjects and followers with admiration and confidence. Secondly, he soon showed himself an active leader, aggressive and daring--the kind of man whose latest exploit is related from mouth to mouth. Finally he was, in a rudimentary way, a diplomat, taking pains to conciliate local nobility in outlying parts of the Beklan Empire. It was rumored that his agents had even travelled as far as Chalcon, the wild and mountainous country lying between Tonilda and Yelda, though of this there was no real proof. What was clear, however, was that Karnat the Tall was hell-bent on an effort, more determined than any made by his predecessors, to conquer and integrate Suba.
On the other hand, upon the sudden death of her father, the High Baron Kephialtar-ka-Voro, a young woman named Fornis became, at seventeen, the eristic ruler of Paltesh. Fornis was Kephialtar's only child and he, foreseeing disputes following his death without a male heir (for he had lived many years in the shadow of this virtually certain eventuality), had already made two attempts to marry her to suitable young men, either of whom he would have been glad to regard as his successor.
That Fornis should have succeeded personally in bringing both matches to nothing was matter for head-shaking in a country where daughters commonly did as they were told. At fifteen she had effectively subverted her father's choice of Renva-Lorvil, the eldest son of his most trusted commander--a young man, as everyone knew, ready to live and die for Paltesh. What had finally tipped the scale had been the puzzled, half-incredulous realization of the suitor himself--a likable, straightforward youth--that in some odd way he was afraid of the girl and unmanned in her presence.
She, for her part, while never saying or doing anything which could be singled ou
t for rebuke, contrived to convince everyone that she despised Renva and found him ludicrous--and this even while seeming to obey her father's injunction to encourage and be pleasant to him. In time the sound of her detached, mocking laughter, simulating courteous reciprocity, became almost more than her father could bear. It was the young man himself who finally told Kephialtar, almost with tears, that he felt unable to go through with the business. Fornis's sustained front of self-possessed mordancy and contempt had defeated him.
Frankly, he had no wish to spend the rest of his life with her.
The second rejection was a far more dramatic affair. Fornis was formally betrothed to Eud-Ecachlon, heir of the High Baron of Urtah--a less attractive young man than Renva, but politically an even better match from the point of view of her father and of Paltesh as a whole, since in time it would unite the two provinces and thus strengthen both against Terekenalt. Eud-Ecachlon, though not a fool, was a rather stolid and insensitive young man; not at all the sort to be either thrown off balance, like Renva, by a cold and malicious girl or, conversely, unduly inflamed if he had happened to be offered a warm and passionate one. Fornis's father--by the standards of his own society kindly and humane--thinking that the girl's unenthusiastic attitude might be due to a secret fear of marriage or of sex, and half-expecting some sort of trouble similar to that with Renva, talked seriously to her about her duty as his sole heiress and about the desperate need of Paltesh for political security. Fornis, seeming to acquiesce, met her bridegroom and complied with all the customary formalities.
A week before the wedding day, during a night of full moon, she vanished, taking with her her personal maid, Ashaktis, and two young men from the crew of her father's boat on the Zhairgen. These lads had happened to be the watch on the High Baron's moorings for the first part of that night, but whether they were secretly in Fornis's pay and had already agreed to come with her, or whether she had suborned them on the spot, no one ever knew. By the time they were missed it was reckoned that the light, swift boat they had taken must have had a start of a good thirty miles. Another was at once dispatched to follow and find them, but everyone knew that unless they had come to grief, any serious hope of overtaking them--wherever they might be bound--was out of the question. Kephialtar's anxiety was greater than his anger, for he loved Form's dearly and knew that she must be sailing straight down the lower Zhairgen--several hours in full view from the Katrian bank.