Departures by Harry Turtledove Read Free Book Online Page A

people crowding the port’s streets.
    “And now we are off to the satrap’s residence,” the eunuch told his servants. “I shall inform Vahauka of the success of my mission and draw from the
ganzabara
”— Mithredath snapped his fingers— “What was the fellow’s name?”
    “Hermippos, wasn’t it, sir?” Tishtrya said.
    “Yes; thank you. I shall draw from Hermippos the funds we need for our return journey to Babylon. After giving Polydoros his due, we are for the moment poor, but only for the moment.”
    “Yes, sir. I like the sound of going home fine, sir,” Tishtrya said. Raga nodded.
    “I wouldn’t be sorry never to see this satrapy again myself,” Mithredath admitted, smiling.
    The satrap’s residence was busier in the early morning than it had been at nightfall. A couple of guards stood outside the entrance to make sure the line of people waiting to see Vahauka and his officials stayed orderly.
    Mithredath recognized one of the guards as the man who had been at the door the evening he’d arrived. He went up to the fellow. “Be so good as to convey me to his Excellency the satrap,” he said. “I don’t care to waste an hour of my time standing here.”
    The guard made no move to do as Mithredath had asked.Instead, he looked down his long, straight nose at the eunuch and said, “You can just wait your turn like anybody else.”
    Mithredath stared. “Why, you insolent—” He started to push past, but the guard swung up his spear. “What do you think you’re playing at?” the eunuch said angrily.
    “I told you, no-stones—wait your turn.” The spear head pointed straight at Mithredath’s belly. It did not waver. The guard looked as though he would enjoy thrusting it home.
    Mithredath glanced at his servants. Like any travelers with a shekel’s weight of sense, he, Tishtrya, and Raga all carried long daggers as protection against robbers. Neither servant, though, seemed eager to take on a spear-carrying soldier, especially when the man served the local satrap. Seething, Mithredath took his place in line. “I shall remember your face,” he promised the guard.
    “And I’ll forget yours.” The lout laughed loudly at his own wit.
    The line crawled ahead, but Mithredath was too furious to become bored. The revenges he invented grew more and more chilling as he got hotter and hotter. A soldier who thwarted one of the royal eunuchs—even a soldier so far from Babylon as this guard—was asking to have his corpse given to ravens and kites.
    The eunuch had thought Vahauka would signal him forward as soon as he saw him, but the satrap went right on with his business. At last Mithredath stood before him. Mithredath started to prostrate himself and waited for Vahauka to stop him and offer his cheek. Vahauka did not. Feeling his stomach knot within him, the eunuch finished the prostration.
    When he rose, he had his face under control. “My lord,” he said, and gestured toward the bag of potsherds Raga held, “I am pleased to report my success in the mission personally set me by Khsrish, King of Kings”—he stressed the ruler’s name and title—“may Ahura Mazda make long his reign.”
    Vahauka yawned. Of all the responses Mithredath might have expected, that was the last.
    Having to work now to keep his voice from stumbling, the eunuch went on. “As I have succeeded, I plan to draw funds from the
ganzabara
Hipparkhos for my return voyage to Babylon.”
    “No.” Vahauka yawned again.
    “My lord, must I remind you of my closeness to the King of Kings?” Only alarm made Mithredath’s threat come out so baldly.
    “No-balls, I doubt very much if you ever have been—or ever will be—close to Kurash, Kings of Kings, may Ahura Mazda smile upon him and make long his reign.”
    “Ku—” The rest of the name could not get through the lump of ice that suddenly filled Mithredath’s throat.
    “Aye, Kurash. A ship came in with the word he’d overthrown and slain your worthless Khsrish the