The Way of Light

by Storm Constantine

  ‘I’d really like to,’ Rav added hurriedly.

  Valraven glanced at his companions and Neferishu said, ‘Here’s a young man who’s had fun at a funeral! Do you like Magrast, Rav?’

  Rav nodded. ‘Yes. Very much.’

  ‘Perhaps you should consider it, Val,’ said Prince Gastern. ‘Your countryman, Merlan Leckery, came to be educated here at a very young age, and look where he is now. If Maycarpe ever retires, he’ll be governor of Mewt. A Caradorean has never held that post, but it’s no secret the Fire Chamber holds Leckery in high regard.’

  ‘As does the subjugated queen of Mewt,’ drawled Neferishu. ‘Merlan has provided me with many happy hours of entertainment.’

  Rav could see that his father was uncomfortable, and didn’t know why. He wondered what he should say to help the situation.

  ‘I shall discuss it with my wife,’ Valraven said, in a tone that meant the subject should be dropped.

  ‘Run along, Leo,’ said Prince Gastern. ‘Why don’t you go and find Linnard? I don’t suppose Rav’s met him yet.’

  Leo took hold of Rav’s arm and dragged him away. Rav felt disappointed. He wasn’t sure whether he’d gained anything or not.

  ‘The last thing I’ll do is introduce you to Gasburn’s putrid son!’ Leo said, suddenly sounding much more like Rav’s friends at home. ‘Lindy’s a pile of sick! I’m always telling him so, just so he won’t forget.’ He let go of Rav’s arm and began to run. ‘Come on, let’s go. I’ll show you where they used to hang criminals on the wall outside.’

  Chapter Five: The Fruit of the Quest

  Varencienne retired to her chambers with a headache. The empress had monopolised her attention all afternoon, and it looked like a plot was being engineered by the ladies of the court to keep Varencienne in Magrast. She could not decline the numerous invitations without sounding ungracious or critical, and if she were honest, there really was no valid reason to go scurrying back to Caradore at once. There was so much she could show the children here, and she did quite like the idea of renewing old acquaintances, just to see how childhood friends had turned out, but still she had a compelling urge to flee. Ellony had tried to help in her quiet way, talking always of home and how she missed it, but then Rav had bounced up, full of stories about Leo. When the empress had asked him if he wanted to stay on for a while, he’d reacted with delight.

  As Varencienne sat before the mirror in her dressing room, rubbing the back of her neck, she acknowledged a painful truth: Rav loved Magrast. Sighing, she applied some lemon cream to her hands. She felt defeated, caught up in a process over which she had no control. Tatrini clearly adored Rav, and it was the natural instinct of any caring grandmother to want to do more for her grandchildren, but the empress had made no effort to do so before. Why now? Varencienne couldn’t help feeling there was something more than Rav’s education at stake.

  Varencienne turned on her seat as Oltefney came into the room. The woman’s expression was a curious mixture of disapproval and excitement. ‘You have a visitor, Ren,’ she said.

  Varencienne instinctively knew at once who it was, but still asked, ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Merlan Leckery,’ said Oltefney.

  Varencienne turned to face the mirror once more, aware her face and neck were flushed. She hoped Oltefney wouldn’t notice, but that was perhaps a vain hope. ‘I will see him in the drawing room,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you could ask the servants to bring us refreshments.’

  Oltefney went out without another word, which was unusual behaviour for her. Varencienne examined herself in the mirror, wound a few stray hairs into place. So, he had made contact. Varencienne sat up straight, attempting to slow her racing heart. She should not feel guilty about Merlan coming here. He was, after all, virtually a relative.

  She heard his laughter before she entered the room. When she opened the door, she saw Oltefney, blushing and giggling, sitting in a chair opposite Merlan’s own. He had been at work exercising his charm, it appeared. As she crossed the room, he stood up and swept a bow. ‘Varencienne, you look marvellous.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You are well, I trust? How is Mewt?’

  ‘I am very well, and Mewt continues to delight me. Have you met Neferishu? She told me she would very much like to make your acquaintance.’

  ‘Not yet. My mother chained me to my seat this afternoon.’

  ‘I noticed.’ Merlan glanced at Oltefney, his meaning clear.

  Taking the cue, Varencienne said, ‘Did you order a tray, Teffy?’

  Oltefney, who was astute, narrowed her eyes slightly. She rose from her seat. ‘I was just going to see to it.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Varencienne waited until Oltefney had left the room, before saying, ‘I did wonder whether you’d come to see me or not. I received your letter, by the way.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Merlan had dropped his expression of flirtatious levity. ‘That is partly why I am here now.’

  Varencienne sat down in the chair Oltefney had vacated. ‘Only partly?’

  ‘I know what you are thinking – I didn’t write or visit. I couldn’t, Ren. You must know that. We were both aware of what we were doing and how ephemeral it must be.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking that at all, actually. Don’t believe I think you’re here because you can’t resist laying eyes on me once more. I just want to know the real reason.’

  ‘We are conspirators,’ Merlan said. ‘I hope you haven’t forgotten.’

  ‘I never forget anything.’ Not least, his warm eyes, his resemblance to his brother. How could she broach that subject? It pressed upon her like a hot iron. ‘Val and I have come to the conclusion you are quite a conspirator in many ways. Have you adopted the Mewtish way of being secretive?’

  Merlan’s face remained expressionless. ‘What led you to this conclusion?’

  I have currency, Varencienne thought. I know things that he does not. ‘Val interviewed someone who is a prisoner in Cawmonel, who is known to you. He had quite a lot of interesting things to say.’

  Merlan’s face changed now. It became animated with hope and surprise. ‘Tayven! Val found him?’

  ‘Yes.’ Disappointing he had guessed so quickly. ‘He told Val about Khaster, Merlan. Val knows everything.’

  ‘Oh.’ Merlan dropped his eyes. ‘I would have told him myself, but I couldn’t. I was sworn not to – not yet.’

  ‘But now he knows anyway.’

  ‘Is he angry I didn’t inform him?’

  ‘No. But I expect he will want to speak to you about it, don’t you?’

  ‘What else did Tayven say?’

  Varencienne shrugged a little. ‘Val and I have had little time to talk privately since I came here, but I think that was all Tayven would say. You are all ones for secrets, it seems.’

  Merlan stood up and came to stand over Varencienne. She made herself remain still. She would not flinch from the fire in his eyes. ‘Ren, there is good reason for it!’ Merlan snapped. ‘I am here now because there are things you should know. But you must swear to me on your children’s lives you will not pass any of what I say on to Val.’

  ‘You have no right to demand such of me!’

  ‘Do you want to know or not?’ Merlan said. ‘I seem to recall you had quite a fondness for my brother – a man you have never met.’

  ‘Naturally, I want to know,’ Varencienne said coolly, ‘but aren’t you curious about Tayven?’

  Merlan went back to his seat. ‘I know already that Tatrini had him taken into custody, because Maycarpe has made enquiries of his own. It makes sense she’d put Tayven in Cawmonel. She no doubt intends to use him in some way to further one of her pet causes.’

  ‘Aren’t you concerned about him? Don’t you want to get him out?’

  ‘That would be impossible,’ Merlan said. ‘Tayven is no fool. He can look after himself. He’s shown that beyond question.’ He paused, then said, ‘Will you give me your word I can speak in confidence?�
�

  Varencienne inclined her head. ‘Very well. I refuse to swear on my children’s lives, but I will give you my word. That must be enough. But you’ll have to convince me why Val must not know.’

  ‘I will try.’ He drew in deep breath, then said, ‘Last year, I went on a journey with Tayven and Khaster, and a young man named Shan, who is Khaster’s apprentice. We went on a quest, which I believe has direct bearing on your husband’s future, therefore your own.’

  Varencienne frowned. ‘Then why can’t you speak to him about it?’

  ‘Because people involved – very knowledgeable people – do not think the time is yet right. We need to see how things go here first. If things get out too soon, it might ruin the delicate web that could lead to changes we both dearly want.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Varencienne said.

  She listened without commenting as Merlan told her how he met Shan in Akahana and learned that his brother was still alive. ‘It sounded incredible, but apparently Khaster had become a kind of host to the intelligence of a powerful magus. He calls himself Taropat now.’ Merlan told how Khaster had fled the battlefield in Cos, believing that Tayven was dead and wanting only to die, but that he’d been led instead to Taropat, who was dying himself and wanted to pass on his knowledge. Khaster, in effect, became Taropat, through a process Merlan could not describe in rational terms. Eventually, the rejuvenated Taropat had taken an apprentice: Shan.

  ‘When Shan came to Mewt to train under General Tuya in the martial arts, he set a chain of events in motion. He brought with him an artefact, which a sorceress had helped him acquire. It was the Dragon’s Claw.’ Merlan then related how Maycarpe knew of this artefact, and of others, all connected with the fate of the True King. And who was the True King? Maycarpe and Merlan believed him to be Valraven. ‘Maycarpe possessed another artefact himself, the Dragon’s Eye. He said that, along with the lost Dragon’s Breath, these items were the totems of the brotherhood who had once surrounded the True King – the bard, the mystic and the warrior. He wanted us to quest for the third artefact, and also a fourth, which in some ways represented the sum total of the other three. It is known as the Crown of Silence. Only the True King may wear it, a man of magic, wisdom and courage. Who else but Val in this world do we know who fits that description?’

  Merlan spoke of how Shan had initially been suspicious of Maycarpe, as Taropat had indoctrinated him thoroughly against anything Magravandian, but eventually Maycarpe had won Shan over. He brought Tayven to Mewt, who then travelled to the Forest of Bree to find Taropat and persuaded him to join the quest. ‘Khaster, or Taropat, was very important to Maycarpe. He believes him to be the incarnation of the mystic of the True King, as Shan is the warrior and Tayven the bard. The trouble is we had to keep Taropat in the dark about our beliefs, because he has a fanatical loathing of Val now. Tayven, reluctantly, had come to concur with Maycarpe and myself. I joined them on the quest, as my official status would help them cross sensitive boundaries. We were ever an uneasy company, but we reached Recolletine, the Seven Lakes, north of here, in the summer of last year.’

  At this point in his narrative, Oltefney reappeared with two servants bearing trays. Varencienne waited impatiently while they set out the refreshments with infuriating slowness. Eventually, she ordered them to hurry up and leave the room. Oltefney gave her a pointed glance as she left.

  ‘Did you retrieve the artefacts?’ Varencienne asked, the moment the door was closed.

  Merlan nodded. ‘Yes. We fought like wolves, fell out, made up, starved ourselves, nearly died, but we were ultimately successful.’ He described the events of the quest in detail, everything that happened to them at the lakes. It stretched Varencienne’s credulity beyond measure, despite the strange events she had lived through herself. She had not been there to witness the quest firsthand, but there was no doubting the passion and conviction in Merlan’s voice. Mystical events may have happened there, or they may not, but it was certain Merlan believed they had. ‘The brotherhood surrendered the three Dragon artefacts at the seventh lake, Pancanara, and the Crown was given to us there. We returned with it to Breeland and gave it to the sorceress, Sinaclara, who had been instrumental in Shan’s training, and who had helped him attain the Claw. We’d agreed the Crown would be safe in Sinaclara’s keeping until it was needed. Unfortunately, that was when things fell apart. Sinaclara revealed that she believed the Crown belonged to Val, and Taropat was furious. It ended up with him going off with Shan to Cos, no longer speaking to Tayven or me. He vowed to fight any attempt to make Valraven king, which is presumably why he sought out Princess Helayna of Cos.’

  ‘That is an incredible story,’ Varencienne said. ‘I feel quite breathless!’

  ‘I know how it sounds,’ Merlan said, ‘but I was there. I saw what happened. I experienced it. It changed us all.’

  ‘But possessing an artefact, no matter how impregnated with symbolism it is, will not change things here,’ Varencienne said. ‘Valraven would not want to replace my father. The empire should be broken up, its subjugated nations emancipated. If we want a new world, we should seek unity through co-operation, not force.’

  ‘I agree. There’s no way we want to make a new emperor in the Malagash vein, if you’ll forgive my aspersions upon your blood. But it is folly to believe that weak people make good rulers, and even more stupid to believe that humans can govern themselves without strong leaders. We need Val’s strength. We must put him upon the throne of Magravandias, and then seek to make changes further afield.’

  Varencienne uttered an outraged snort. ‘You can’t make Val anything! Your arrogance astounds me. He should be informed of your ideas and beliefs and be instrumental in whatever plans you have. It sounds to me as if you and Maycarpe, and Foy knows who else, want to use Val as some kind of figurehead, but that the real power behind the throne will be hidden. He’s no puppet, Merlan.’ She shook her head in agitation. ‘This puts me in a very difficult position. I won’t do anything behind Val’s back.’

  ‘You must not tell him, Ren. You promised. I know how it sounds, but you have to trust me on this.’

  ‘Trust you?’ Varencienne laughed coldly. ‘I would as soon trust a shadow on the wind. Anyway, haven’t you forgotten certain things, namely my family? You might recall that Bayard and Almorante also have aspirations to the throne. Gastern has the support of just about everyone here in Magrast. I cannot see Val agreeing to be part of a coup, I really can’t.’

  ‘Precisely. He won’t go along with us – yet. This is why you must keep silent.’

  ‘So what do you intend to do?’

  ‘We have allies. Ashalan and Neferishu. Caution forbids either Maycarpe or me confiding in them fully, but enough guarded allusions have been made to suggest they will stand beside us should the need arise. It’s obvious the entire Magravandian nation is extremely anxious about what will happen following your father’s death. The army is ostensibly loyal to Gastern, but I believe that if it came to it, they’d support Val. They know, trust and love him. Gastern, they are suspicious of, for obvious reasons.’

  ‘Almorante has strong support,’ Varencienne said. ‘All Mordryn and Senefex care about is their own skins. At the moment, they’re loyal to Gastern, because they believe Almorante or Bayard would take their power from them. They’d certainly lose power if the empire crumbled. The last time I spoke to my mother about this matter, her aims were similar to ours in many respects, except that she wants Bayard as emperor. A sun king, who will unify the disgruntled realms through the power of the spirit.’

  ‘Whatever she says, she wants to maintain the empire,’ Merlan said. ‘I want Caradore to be free. Val has a valid claim to the Magravandian throne, because he is your husband.’

  ‘We are talking in circles,’ Varencienne said. ‘Tell me straight. What do you and Maycarpe intend to do practically?’

  Merlan hesitated, looking Varencienne directly in the eye. Then he said, ‘The Malagash princes mus
t die.’

  He said it so baldly, so calmly, Varencienne was filled with horror. It was real. She saw it in her mind: the shadowy assassins, the glinting blades, the cups of poison, the blood and death. This man, whom she had once loved, who had ignited her body with feeling, was capable of ordering it done. It was expedient, necessary. She saw a pile of lifeless bodies with clouded eyes, flies buzzing over them. ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean, “no”?’ Merlan said. ‘Have you no stomach for it? It is the only way. You must see that, no matter how distasteful it seems.’

  ‘They are my brothers. Distasteful? How dare you!’

  ‘Oh, don’t speak so morally to me, Ren! How do you think it must happen? Do you really see us all sitting round a table, chatting amicably, and your brothers agreeing that, yes, Val would really make a better king than they would? For Foy’s sake, wake up!’

  ‘They could be taken prisoner, exiledc’

  ‘You know them better than that, and yet, you don’t know them at all. You have no true feelings for them. You once told me that. They despise your womanhood and, if you got in their way, would think nothing of killing you. The Malagash ethic is conquer or be conquered, kill or be killed. You are nothing to them, merely Val’s brood mare. You should care only about your own future and that of your children. Change is needed, Ren, but we won’t achieve it with clean hands. That is the great responsibility, and it is distasteful, nothing more. You must harden yourself. I know you can. I’ve seen what you are, your strength, your dignity, your wisdom. You are completely Val’s complement, and for his sake, you must come into your own, take up the power of your blood. For, of all of them, you are the only one fit to wield it.’

  Varencienne pressed her fingers against her eyes. She felt as if she was caught in a dark whirlpool. How easy it had been to talk of potential futures in Caradore with Merlan, four years ago. The future, then, had seemed so far away, her father immortal. Now, it had become real, urgent and unavoidable. People like Merlan were courageous enough to take desperate measures to achieve change. Was she like them? Surely not. She could neither countenance nor condone murder. But she must be alone in that. Even her mother could not believe she could get Bayard on the throne without spilling blood. Gastern was the rightful heir. The only way he wouldn’t become emperor would be if he were dead. Varencienne’s only instinct now was to get out of Magrast, take Rav and Ellony with her, return to Caradore, where it was safe. She lowered her hands. ‘Merlan, at this moment, I feel I want no part in this.’