*
Mirris purred softly as Evessa stroked his furry stomach. He was as docile and lazy as cats got. When the original Mirris had started to get old over two thousand years ago Evessa had laboured long and hard to figure out a way to preserve his life, for he had been with her since she'd been pulled from the Dream Sea by the Great Fenn himself and she was very fond of him.
In the end she'd worked out a way to transfer Mirris into a crystal which she wore around her neck. Though his lifespan could not be increased while he was vanished into the crystal he would not age, therefore provided that she did not release him for too long or too often his time with her could be spread across the ages. Thus it was a very rare occasion when she whispered into the crystal and caused the cat to appear on her lap, a very rare and usually very stressful occasion. The approaching tide was about as stressful as anything she had faced thus far in her life in Avalen.
Several times within the last twenty-four hours she'd been down to Mortiune and the others. They were being housed in the Bathing Light Hospital which was buried in the first pillar, close to Witchhaven Dell where she had her own home. The truth of what had happened was being kept as quiet as possible. The silver claws who had been guarding the gate had sent for her straight away.
When she'd reached the Brazen Gate she'd seen Mortiune, several Sentinels and a handful of silver claws lying on the floor of the gate room, alive but unconscious. They could not be roused from their slumber no matter how hard they were shaken or how loudly they were shouted at. She'd told the King who ordered them transferred to the Bathing Light. He also told her to investigate and bring him answers about what had happened to them.
Her investigations had proved fruitless. She'd asked several of the other silver claws whether or not they were able to make contact with the minds of their brothers but they could not. She spoke to the silver claws who'd been guarding the gate room about exactly what had happened and they said that as the party started to reappear through the gate they collapsed almost immediately, no words had been spoken by any on their return.
None of the methods which Evessa or the doctors in the Bathing Light had employed were capable of waking them so they slept still, several days after returning, much to the frustration of the Witch-Maker and the anger of the King, who seemed to be growing more and more wrathful with each passing hour. The news of the riots had not helped. A group of protesting memory dreams had been told by the spider spears to disperse, when they did not the spiders had attacked and killed hundreds of them.
That was the spark which lit the tinder and tens of thousands of dreams were now rioting. The eleventh, fifteenth and sixteenth pillars had become veritable warzones. She knew that the King was regretting having let the spiders into the city, but there was little choice. Fenn was a city of many millions of dreams and the silver claw legion could not be expected to fight against external foes whilst also keeping order in the city. Even so, spider spears were not militia, they were deadly and remorseless and their corrosive presence in the city was beginning to tell on its populace, exacerbated by the steady stream of dreams making their way to the Howling Cavern at the point of a spear. There were more than just jackals currently being detained.
It had been a few hours since Evessa had aided Esmerel in getting out of the Palace of Fenngaard. The Princess had been easy to manipulate. Evessa had a slight feeling of guilt, but it was assuaged by the justification for her actions, the knowledge she had of what was coming.
When the knock came at the door she whispered and Mirris disappeared instantly, his life force pouring back into the crystal. “Enter”, she said.
The door opened and the King’s mousekarl, Hidriss, stood their flanked by two silver claws. “Your presence is required immediately”, he said.
She nodded and followed him. Hidriss was not the most jolly of mousekarls at the best of times, his mood now was positively grim. It was a long walk up to Fenngaard from the buried chamber of Witchhaven and it was a long walk conducted in silence. As they climbed the hundreds of steps up the winding stairwells towards Fenngaard, Evessa spotted a number of sky-ships sitting on the many landing platforms dotted around the palace. Not a one of them seemed to be without fire damage of some kind, this was not a good sign.
They made their way through the press, many fearful faces gazing at them as they went. The throng got smaller the closer they got to the Nested Throne, from the bellowing she could tell why.
“A flock of birds?!” King Corul roared. “The arm of the King broken by dogs and birds?!” came the next outburst. King Corul Geddon was known for his cool, for his emotionless implacable calm under fire. He seemed to have temporarily lost control of that nerve, precisely what his enemies were waiting for.
“Tremaine!” he bellowed when she appeared.
“My King”, she said bowing low.
“Is the Sentinel awake?” he asked.
“I am afraid not my King”, the King spat in disgust.
“Failure is becoming endemic it would seem”, he said to several silver claws in burnt and battered armour knelt before the throne.
“What has happened, My King?” Evessa asked after a few moments, hoping that the King would regain his self-control.
It was the Magister who answered, “The fleet which assaulted Eredyss has returned defeated. They were attacked by the jackals borne on the backs of sorrow hawks. Captain Asgoth is missing, presumed dead.”
Evessa walked to where the silver claw knelt. “How many sorrow hawks?” she asked.
“Thousands my lady, many thousands. We were outmatched.”
Evessa raised a finger to pursed lips. “The sorrow hawks possess many bizarre attributes as a species, My King”, she said, turning to a King who seemed to have regained some of his composure. “One of these is the rate at which they reproduce. A breeding couple will produce only one offspring every ten years or so.”
“Meaning?” said the King.
“Meaning that in order to have bred the numbers which the silver claws are talking about they must have started breeding them almost as soon as they got to Eredyss, in spite of the ban.” Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth she regretted them. The knowledge that the jackals had started plotting against him almost as soon as he'd generously spared them during the Binding seemed to tip the King over the edge.
“Kazarel!” he bellowed.
From the ring of steel a silver claw turned and dropped to one knee. “My King?” said the hollow metallic voice.
“You will take the silver claw legion and the Royal Fleet and eradicate the talented jackals.”
There was a hesitant pause. “Yes, My King?” replied Kazarel, “may I ask which elements of the legion and fleet you wish to despatch?”
“You will leave two hundred silver claws here in the palace, the rest you will take with you. The entire fleet captain, you will need every ship to carry that many claws.”
Again there was a hesitant silence: “That is almost a thousand ships My King, it will take some time to gather such a force-”
“Then I suggest you begin immediately”, interrupted the King.
Captain Kazarel, the most senior ranking silver claw after Vulthian and the deceased Asgoth, got to his feet, smashed a gauntlet against his chest, turned and started the long walk from the Hall of Providence.
It was the Magister Elementis who took the stand and voiced what everyone else within earshot was thinking: “My King, with that number of silver claws leaving there will not be enough to guard the first pillar. Though I understand the desire to hit back at the jackals I feel this may leave us vulnerable.”
The King interrupted him, not with words but by reaching into the air beside him and pulling forth the pulsating Hammer of Fenn. The air itself seemed to shy away from the weapon.
“We are never vulnerable, Magister”, said the King.
“Of course, My King, but the wider area of the palace complex, the logistics of protecting those outside of
the Hall of Providence-”
Again he was interrupted, this time by another bellowed summons from King Corul, “Bring me the Arachnid King.” The tense silence continued whilst messengers looked for the Arachnid King. It took only minutes for him to arrive, it seemed that the Arachnid King had been in the Hall of Providence already before being summoned.
Evessa felt repulsed by his appearance. He scuttled through the line of steel and he did not kneel before his King due to the way his legs were formed, the spiders would never kneel.
Four of his legs touched the ground, supporting a fat, round insectoid body which curved upwards into the torso. His shell was shiny black and the other four legs came out of his upper body from which the many eyed head also protruded at the top. His maw was long and thin and contained a row of glassy razor-sharp fangs. He carried no weapons, none of them did, for their legs were like hardened steel and ended with sharp hooks which could punch through armour.
“High King”, said the arachnid, bending his body slightly. When he spoke it was a chewing crunching noise, a mouth that always sounded like it was filled with bone and phlegm.
“Arachnid”, said Corul, “I have a need to dispatch my silver claws to deal with a craven enemy, there is a concern that during their absence the security of my palaces may be jeopardised. Mayhap you have enough spider spears remaining to cross over to the first pillar and maintain order here?”
The Arachnid King nodded his head slightly again. Evessa had never liked the self-proclaimed king of the Entlewood, not least because he was unreadable and his loyalty to the crown had always been tenuous. Certainly the spider spears had never risen up against them but the Arachnid King had also been notably absent from their side during the battles of the past.
“Of course, High King, the spiders live to spin your wishes”, he crunched. “Would you like me to bring the blanket of protection over your grand Hall of Providence?”
“No”, said the King pointedly, “a small contingent of my claws will remain in the hall and I have the hammer should any of our enemies seek to contest my will here.”
“Your wisdom is as great as your might, High King.”
“As my claws withdraw from the first pillar you will bring the spiders across. Coordinate with my captains concerning matters of logistics and deployment”
The Arachnid King bobbed his head and scuttled away. Evessa sighed internally; it was all happening, just as he said it would. How she longed to speak out, to tell her King of all that she knew, but she dare not for she'd been warned and sworn to secrecy. There was the constant murmur in the hall that was always there as the hundreds of bureaucrats and courtiers dealt with the business of the kingdom, but her King sat silent, brooding on his Nested Throne.
Beyond the Dream Page 28
