The snake-like path wound westward through a sea of mutated brambles. A league distant grew the Gogol fortress of Cicero. Pyra's russet edge had barely cleared the horizon, but already the Ajaj Grays had begun to trickle from their quarters in the tumbles and make their way to the trail head. Day after day, generation upon generation, so had the Ajaj come forth to render services to their Gogol overlords.
Ahead, behind, and to all sides grew the poison-tipped briars and sting-burred brambles cultivated by the Gogols as protection for this, the seat of their empire. Only through a few narrow trails could Cicero be reached, and these lanes were constantly watched by the jealous owners of the city's five gates.
Five walls had Cicero and five gates and five lords. Five trails led to the city, and into five departments were civil functions divided. The entrance at the Eastern point of the pentagon was the Gate of Dread, commanded, guarded, and watched over by Lord Hazar the Dread. Through this gate, down this trail, came the Ajaj laborers, servants, and empathers who staffed the city.
At the northeast point of the pentagon opened the Gate of Lust, commanded by Lord Bolam the Dominator. Over the path which terminated there came the slaves, both male and female, necessary to satisfy the more carnal pleasures of the lords and deacons and subdeacons. These being more or less a luxury item, Bolam's control of the gate made him the weakest and most lightly taken of the five lords.
Next, to the northwest, was the Gate of Mammon, guarded by Lord Zaco the Inquisitor. From the regions served by this road came the gemstones, gold, iron, minerals, powders, and potions sufficient to stock the city. For reasons not understood by the other lords, Zaco had entered into an alliance with Hazar-an arrangement much resented and feared by the other Gogol princes, for through Zaco's gate, from the lands he controlled, came the powerstones that were so crucial a part of Hazar's plans for empire.
To the southwest stood the Gate of Fear. Through this portal Lord Topor sent forth Ajaj nominally under indenture to Hazar to till the fields and tend the crops which provided Cicero with an abundance of food and drink. Because of his dependence upon Hazar's Grays, it was well known that Topor, in most events, could be counted on to do Hazar's bidding.
Lastly, to the southeast yawned the Gate of Pain, jealously guarded by Nefra the Cruel. Nefra was Hazar's most bitter and most powerful enemy. His kinsmen maintained the aquifers which supplied fresh water from Lake Nefra some ten leagues to the south. Hazar's control of the city's food and now apparent control of the powerstones as well as his domination of Cicero's labor force excited Nefra's paranoia to a fever pitch. Hazar planned to elevate himself from lord to king, of this Nefra was certain. With such an ascension Nefra's fate would be sealed.
Castor rounded another bend, whereupon the trail disgorged its travelers in a cleared semicircle some three hundred yards in diameter. Directly ahead of him the first of the three slabs which composed the Gate of Dread gaped wide. Shouts and curses greeted the Grays as they emerged from the wall of briars.
Sleep-dulled curses urged them forward across the barrens and into the space between the first and second panels of the gate. Castor, as much as possible, kept to the center of the group of workers, hoping to remain inconspicuous among his fellows.
Guards patrolling the face of the wall repeatedly snapped their whips over the heads of the Grays, causing them to press closer together. At last almost a hundred Ajaj filled the space between the first and second panel. Reluctantly, the guards in the watchtowers began to crank their great wheels. On rollers of seasoned oilwood the huge front panel crept forward, foot by foot, closing off Cicero's Gate of Dread from the outside world.
When at last the panel was fully closed the second portion began to move backward, sliding into the wall. Again the Ajaj crowded forward, stepping over the foot-wide channel which guided the iron-bound wooden barrier. After the Grays had cleared the middle door, it closed and the third panel opened into the streets of Cicero. A clerk checked off the names and duties of the Grays as they passed the wicket.
"Name, number, and classification?"
"Castor, 972, senior empather."
"Castor, 972, but senior empather no more. Now by the grace and wisdom of Lord Hazar you are allowed to enter into a new profession: scullery apprentice, fourth class, in the lord's own household. To your right along the outer ring past the entrance with the red and black flag, down the stairs, knock on the door. Tell them you've been sent to clean the kitchens. Next!"
Numbly Castor stumbled forward, surprised, in spite of himself, that he had been allowed to live. A few yards past the clerk's desk he halted and turned back toward the gate. His pleasure at being alive vanished as he contemplated the scene before his eyes: burly copper-skinned soldiers patrolled the stone battlements above the gate. Gogols of various castes filled the walkways which paralleled the outer wall, beings who hated, distrusted, and loathed even each other. The depths of their insensitivity to the Ajaj could never be plumbed. The loss of a walking stick, the stain of a garment, upset them more than seeing a Gray gutted for its pelt. With an anger more terrible than any he had ever felt before Castor shambled forward toward Hazar's scullery. In the center of his rage Castor felt another emotion: fear, a fear that chilled him to the core-the fear of his realization that the only way that he would find peace was in Hazar's death or in his own.