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Shadow of the Seer

Page 16

by Michael Scott Rohan


  ‘Why so?’ demanded Alya fiercely. ‘Do you say he means to betray us?’

  ‘Not that, no,’ said the grim-faced man. ‘Not unless it served his turn in some very important way. Volmur cares how others see him, and he will honour you, as you no doubt deserve. But I came to Volaghkhan and his father, more than twenty years past, for aid in regaining the lands of Teoquhan. Much was promised me, when the time was right; and much I have earned, by faithful service. He has been good to me, in his fashion; but I have little left that is mine, and must depend on him to live. Yet here I am still, and Teoquhan is a wasteland where only the Ice holds sway. And there may be a very good reason for that.’

  He broke off and hailed another, and Alya realised there were eyes upon them, including those of the courtier and Volmur himself. But it seemed that the King only wished to speak their praises; and at his command, as they relaxed between courses, men brought them each a fine suit of the royal livery, coat and hose of deep blood-red such as his captains wore, with shirts of mail and bright helms, and a hefty sword for Vansha, and to the cheers of the crowd they were arrayed in them where they stood. Toasts were drunk to them, and, ironically, to the Nightingale when he was hauled out from his lair. For you are clearly warriors of no common kind,’ said Volmur jovially. ‘Too good for mere farmers! You shall be soldiers in my service, and learn the ways of arms. Put down your roots here, and become lords ere long!’

  They rose, feeling strange and itchy in their new garments, and bowed in all directions, and drank the king’s health, as they had seen the lords do; but after Asquan’s warning, Alya felt he had to speak to Volmur, now and quietly, before he became too drunk again.

  ‘King, you honour us, and we bask in your favour. When our quest is done and our oaths are fulfilled, then your service is what I know Vansha would want; and,’ he added carefully, ‘I can see no nobler prospect myself. But for now we must serve you in our own fashion, by pursuing those raiders. Our oaths leave us no other path.’

  Volmur’s face darkened; but he was too well aware of the power that had been unleashed within his walls. ‘You are bound by oaths? That is bad, for I will have no oaths in my kingdom greater than those to me. My laws forbid them. But yours were sworn first, I suppose; and I can hardly compel loyalty in the face of them. I will aid you, then. But it will take some time to assemble sufficient men, for I have hardly enough for the garrisons and patrols I must maintain now, to discourage this same endless raiding that whittles away at the borders of my realm. A constant drain upon my revenues! I mean to strike into the outer lands, indeed; but not hastily. When the time is right. And strong lads like you can surely help me prepare!’

  There was something in his voice that Alya could not comprehend, and he fought to marshal arguments that could not be taken as insults. ‘King, that is noble of you; but for the women’s sake we must follow, now, before the trail grows too cold! It has been three days already, and it will be more before we can gain it again. We must take up the hunt with no more delay!’

  Volmur said nothing; but his gaze went beyond them, and lit upon Asquan, in a way that chilled Alya’s blood. Vansha leaned across the table, his voice urgent but quiet. ‘King, in your wisdom you must see that is so! We have already cleared a danger from your land, gone some way to opening a new path your troops may use northward, even. Will you not help us to serve you now, to your own greater glory? Imagine the blow against the Ice in your name, imagine how it will look to your folk. How it will discourage those raiders! For they need to be discouraged, do they not?’

  It seemed to Alya that Vansha must perceive the mind of the King more keenly than he himself, for the wrath faded somewhat from Volmur’s brow, into lines of thought. ‘I have told you,’ he said at last, ‘that I can spare no troops right now, not on such a wild premise – not my costly regular troops. Had you been patient, I could certainly have managed much more, soon.’ He shrugged, and smiled benignly. But I sympathise with your desire for speed. And indeed, I feel strongly that your best chance will lie not in mere numbers, but with deftness and cunning. So, I will spare you aid worth many mere soldiers. I give you the Lord Asquan, to be your guide and leader!’

  Volmur smiled into the ensuing silence, and this time it was not at all benign. ‘The Powers know he has been pestering me for action for long enough! And it is evident,’ he said blithely, ‘from this chance meeting, that your destinies and his must run together. So that is decided! Of course, you will need men. Well, I give you my warrant to recruit any who will follow you. You may scour my gaols freely, for example. That, and the war-gear I have bestowed upon you, is the best I can do, for now; but your valour is such that I have every confidence.’ Before anyone could answer, he raised his goblet. ‘Hail, avengers of Teoquhan!’

  Asquan, who had been contemplating the King with ironical detachment, rose and bowed. ‘Hail to King Volmur!’ he said drily. ‘I rejoice that you are so keen to keep your word, to one grown grey in your service. Perhaps riding out with these young hotheads will renew the youth I have given you. May our example inspire a new and unceasing campaign against the Ekwesh!’

  The air was heavy with things unspoken, like the advent of a storm. Volmur’s eyes narrowed again, but he simply raised a hand in mild benison. ‘Then it is decided!’ he said. ‘Draw up the warrants at once. Meanwhile, let us continue the feast, and honour our gallant friends, while we may. For they will not wish to linger even a single day longer!’

  When Volmur had drunk himself almost into insensibility, the feast was declared closed. The young men and their captive were led into the great hall behind, heart of the rambling King-House, on whose boards many men lay already asleep and snoring by the dim smoky light of the fire-trough in the middle of the floor. There they were given furs and blankets, and wished a good night. Nightingale, pledged to behave himself, curled up in the blanket he was given and slept at once; but though they had drunk far more than they were used to, neither of the young men felt at all ready to copy him.

  ‘We must talk!’ Alya whispered, and Vansha cast a cold eye around at the sleeping throng.

  ‘Aye, but not here! If we could only seek out some quiet corner in this great jumble of a place—’

  ‘I may be able to help you there!’ said another voice, equally soft. It was Asquan, with a mantle of dark fur shrouding his form and face. ‘Say nothing, and follow!’

  Into the dark at the end of the hall he glided, and under the shadow of a great wall-hanging there, a cloth painted with a gory hunting scene. Behind it, almost hidden, was a small door, and through that he led them, quietly, and out on to worn flagstones. In this chamber, miraculously, the walls were of stone, and the ceiling also, an arching vault carven with many strange shapes, stars and comets and round shapes Alya did not recognise, and between them many figures of women and men.

  ‘This is the way to the tower,’ whispered Asquan, ‘the only part of the King-House left from the old times, wrought in stone rather than wood. The only part that will not burn, and therefore the last redoubt against a besieger. Few come here otherwise, for it is thought to be haunted.’

  ‘Haunted?’ Vansha looked nervously around.

  Asquan’s lined face twisted into a smile. ‘A legend I encourage. Things have been seen here, but they were mostly me, for I value my privacy in this seething nest of spies and informers. Yet it is probably true, all the same. Here, if anywhere, there should be spirits. Shadows of a bygone better age, brought low at last by the treasons and terrors of the Ice. Men massacred and men deceived, brought even to worship that which wished them ill. Blood soaks these derelict stones, and their cries for just vengeance go unheeded. Like all such, in this land now.’

  ‘I guessed as much,’ said Vansha, still nervous. ‘From what you said, and from the King’s look. He does not seem to want to take action against the raiders, and there must be some strong reason for that.’

  Asquan’s smile was colder than ever. ‘You might make a courtier one day, young
man. But this is still no place to talk of it. Admire the ceiling, depicting the Powers. You will see it better from the stairs, at hand here; but watch your step.’

  They were as worn as the rest, spiralling upward, and the walls deeply worn by many steadying hands; but they led out at last on to a wide floor of wood, surrounded by a strong wooden wall, breast-high, dimly lit by moon and star. From here rose the rest of the tower, but in timber only. ‘Do not go near the edge, or you will be seen!’ said Asquan. ‘There is a sentry at the top, a thankless task reserved as punishment. He will not chance to come down the stairs before daybreak, lest a passing breath blow out his lantern – as so often happens. So we may talk unheard, if we are quiet. And acknowledge the truth of your suspicions, Master Vansha. Our Bright Sun dare not take action. Can you guess why?’

  ‘The reasons he gave?’ hazarded Alya. It would cost too much, his troops are too few—’

  ‘Yet he has many times hurled them against neighbour kingdoms and smaller domains, with ruthless freedom. And swelled his revenues thereby. His troops live better than most men in his kingdom, and he could raise more any time he wished. No, it is not that; and yet Volmur did not altogether lie. Too much of his revenues does indeed go to fending off the raiders.’

  Vansha gasped. ‘He pays them tribute?’

  Teeth gleamed briefly, in Asquan’s warped smile. ‘That, and more. You have not plumbed his depths, yet. He pays them, not only to spare his realm, but also to harry those who oppose it, or simply stand free of it – such as the Citadel, perhaps. I long suspected it, but only lately have I become sure. He bribes them with great stores of provisions and other necessaries, luxuries even. They are taken from his warehouses and left in mysterious outlying hiding-places, supposedly for later operations; but it is not his own troops who empty those hiding-places! I guess the Ice must always need sustenance for its human servants, so it is ready enough to tolerate such a pact. Perhaps the situation amuses them, for now.’

  Alya winced. ‘So we have wasted all our journey!’ A black veil of anger and bitterness descended.

  ‘Speak more softly, boy! I would not say that. You have that formidable creature, your servant. You have fine mail, and much honour, upon which you may trade in many ways. And you have me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  Asquan chuckled waspishly. ‘Please don’t faint with joy. I am more of an asset than you might think. True, Volmur is only too glad to get rid of me. I have not been a popular figure at court, arguing for some real effort against the forces of the Ice, and not against our fellow men. Since his father’s day I have spoken for alliance instead of conquest, union instead of exploitation; and railed against those who preferred to grow fat on the proceeds. Or who served still darker ends, agents and devotees of the Ice itself; for such a dark and hidden cult exists, they say. There have been intrigues enough against me, plots and assassination bids; but Volmur and his father always protected me. Why? Because they found me very useful. Now you may, too, perhaps.’

  ‘Why did you bear it?’ demanded Vansha. ‘Why not simply go somewhere else?’

  ‘Such as where?’ Asquan shrugged. ‘The unknown West? The Eastlands, by the Sea, where the world ends? There is nowhere else, not near enough to give me the help I wanted, that I dreamed of. I dreamed that because these kinglets praised me and upraised me and gave me what seemed like wealth, they would one day keep their word and help me. Dreaming, I endured, and because there was little else meaningful I could think to do. I fought hard, and drowned my doubts in pleasures of every kind. Now I grow old, and the pleasures wither on the vine. The end of my usefulness is in sight, and my inconvenience grows. Volmur has become different to me; perhaps he suspects what I know. The wealth dries up, and with it the hope. I know I will never find my lands again, and reunite my scattered folk, and I taste bleak despair. But in aiding you I may at least sweeten it with some revenge. And if I must seek death, do so to some purpose!’

  The dry voice spoke of despair and death without a trace of feeling, unless in its utter calm. But there was a trace of something more in it, as he turned to Alya. ‘And I also believe in destiny, now and again, Seer’s son.’

  Vansha also looked to Alya; but Alya remained silent. Asquan seemed to him a mere courtier, effete and dandyish, fit only for intrigues and stratagems, not to be trusted. How Volmur had found him useful was hard to imagine. And Volmur was wishing him off on them. Yet his words rang true; but then, what else would one expect from an intriguer? He felt as if this weird old palace were truly a labyrinth, and himself one of its lost spirits; and over the distances his heart yearned for Savi.

  ‘We have cause to be cautious, my lord,’ said Alya, at last. ‘But I also have more reason than most to believe in destiny. Help and counsel is what we desperately need, Asquan. We would be glad of yours.’

  A hand was stretched out to him in the dimness, like a claw emerging from the cloak. Alya took it, arm to arm; and it clamped closed with quite startling strength. He answered it with his own, very carefully. Asquan drew breath sharply, and then nodded. ‘You are much stronger even than you look, Master Seer. But then so, I think, am I.’ He clasped hands also with Vansha, who glared, but bore it. ‘Well, then! We make a masterful three.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Alya, still guarded. ‘But still only three. What can so few hope to achieve?’

  The lord shrugged. ‘Much, if I judge you two aright. But perhaps not enough. If you wish my counsel, we should seek out other men. We cannot expect many; ten, perhaps, and not the army you would wish.’

  ‘Ten?’ Vansha sounded horrified. ‘There were at least fifty raiders! We need no fewer, surely!’

  ‘We could not arm and provision such a party in less than a week, not without Volmur. And it might be too cumbersome. I believe a small band may be better, if they are seasoned men. We should seek them at once.’

  ‘Yes!’ said Vansha excitedly. ‘We could ask for volunteers among the guards!’

  ‘Who would be forbidden to accept, upon pain of immediate death,’ sighed Asquan. ‘No doubt the orders are being cut even now. Not that many save the bad lots and the madmen would be interested in changing their comfortable billets for such an uncertain prospect. Still less so the common folk. They have a measure of peace and even some prosperity to live for. Why should they quit the comfort of their wallows and sties for folk they don’t even know? No, it’s into worse mire we must descend to find the kind of men we need, worse and deeper, an abyss beyond light and hope. It’s a place I know well. Come, make its acquaintance!’

  Vansha stood at once, but Alya held back. ‘Where to, then?’

  ‘The depths. Where even our darkness may seem like a little light.’

  Along long passages he led them then, still among stone, and down stairs where every whisper seemed to be magnified, every echo a rustling, chattering answer. He kindled a torch, but its uncertain flicker seemed only to add more darkness to the shadows forever flickering at the edge of sight, like a threat of blindness. The walls here were still stone, but thick with ancient nitre, the roofs heavy with dripping spikes of it, save where it had been shattered, as by something heavy hurled against it; and here and there the light showed darker stains and smears. These were ancient ways, but the feeling in them was much newer, and the faint acrid stink that grew upon the air.

  Vansha’s arm was shivering, when Alya brushed against it, but he said nothing. Before long a glimmer of light grew in the darkness, but so also did the stench; and they came to a small open chamber, and a chair in which a great brute of a man sat dozing beneath three large lanterns. But the moment Asquan stepped out of the passage he sprang up with a startled cry and fell back against the wall.

  ‘Easy, man!’ said Asquan irritably. The oaf stared, then wiped a greasy arm across his sweating forehead, and bobbed a semblance of a bow.

  ‘Ah, my lord! And you, young gennlemen! Took you for – dunno what, poppin’ out of there like that. You know how it is with these passages; and them
forever chatterin’, back there in the blackness like that! Nobody ever comes that way, ’ardly. I’d have it stopped up if they’d let me.’

  Asquan smiled unpleasantly. ‘The King has many uses for the ways beneath his halls. Seeing how alert are his gaolers, for one. But that is not our charge tonight. The King sends us on a perilous mission, and has given us warrant to seek help wherever we choose, even in his gaols. We need men who would sooner face death than rot in the dungeons.’

  ‘ ’Ere?’ The gaoler spat. ‘Dunno what you hope to find ’ere, my lord. Scum in here’ll mostly say yea, and cut your throat the moment your back’s turned. They don’t care.’

  ‘Precisely. It must be the right men. Take us in – right in – and we will decide. Your trouble will be amply appreciated. Now, and afterwards.’

  The gaoler looked unhappy, but his fat palm closed swiftly around the coin Asquan put in it. He lit another large lantern, and looped the strap of an iron-headed cudgel about his wrist. ‘Well, as you wish, my lord. But you, young gennlemen, you’ve not been here before. Watch your footing – and your backs!’

  Asquan smiled his crooked smile. ‘They can handle themselves at least as well as I can, man. Lead on!’

  Keys jangled, one after another; and at last the great ironbound door creaked menacingly inward. Both Alya and Vansha exclaimed in disgust at the stench that washed out over them. Two more gaolers, seated by their lanterns at either side of the door, grinned at the softmarks who complained. Asquan sniffed the air like fine wine. ‘The stink of human stupidity, my friends! Enjoy it. The King’s main prison is a stockade, where lesser offenders and those who can pay may dwell in elementary comfort. This, though, is known all too accurately as the Hole. It would take little effort to maintain a modicum of hygiene here, but few of its delightful inmates are very interested. So they die of innumerable distempers, and make room for their replacements, and that suits the guards well enough. An ever-changing tapestry, and a ceaseless flow. I see new faces each time I come here.’

 

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