Many, many leagues to the north, in the Realm of Ice, the Grey Guardian Rhaki was comfortably ensconced in his library. While far above him icy gales blasted the already heavily snow-covered mountains, here in his Stronghold he was warm and secure. He sat in a huge carved chair well padded with many fat cushions. His feet were stretched towards a glowing fire, the heap of ashes beneath the embers testifying to the fact it had been burning many hours.
Rhaki had been studying his books but now sat, his eyes fixed on the fire before him. He had spoken to Nula and realised she was of no further use to him. It had been only a minor experiment anyway. He had found it amusing that Emla seemed to place such faith in her oversized lizards. He had thought to try contacting one himself and tempting it away from Emla’s influence.
When he last bespoke Nula, he had been amazed at the raging anger and dark insanity that answered him. She had killed the two incompetents who had failed her. She refused to speak to him when once she realised it was indeed Rhaki bespeaking her. Through the confused miasma of her mind he divined her plan to descend to the plains and destroy any two legs she could find.
He’d withdrawn his thoughts and laughed at how easily Emla’s Dragons could be turned from her path to his. This was all trivial anyway; his main purpose was to obtain at least two of Emla’s six remaining Weights. With one lost and, with luck, two more in his possession as soon as he could manage, the Balance would swing to him irrevocably.
Rhaki left his chair and paced to the long oak table heaped with books and parchments. He paced back to the fire, deep in thought, his great height and almost skeletally thin body casting a monstrous shadow in the dim light. He turned again, this time moving to a deep, curtained embrasure. He held back one of the heavy curtains and peered through the thick glass.
Snowflakes flattened where they hit and a sharp rattle could be heard from the grains of ice beating at the window. Not a night to be out, thought Rhaki. At least it would make Jal less likely to dawdle at any farm or tavern. The storm must be a blizzard down on the plains but Jal knew better than to plead bad weather to his master for too long a delay.
For a moon and a half, minds had been closed to Rhaki. He had been unable to sneak into any thoughts where Emla laid claim. He let the curtain drop back, shutting out the wild whiteness and returning to his worktable. He gazed unseeing at a map, held unwound by a book on one end and a lump of rock on the other.
Rhaki tried to imagine how the minds of a human or a Nagum would choose a route towards him. They had Dragons with them, but how or why they had made pets of a pair of young Dragons, Rhaki dismissed as of no importance. He was hoping Jal would at least have discovered their names. Once Rhaki had a name, he had something to work with. He had heard they had been seen in the foothills of the Spine Mountains. He mused again on the idea of pet Dragons. By the stars! A pair of fengars would have been less noticeable and more useful companions surely?
There came a gentle rap on his door. ‘Come,’ said Rhaki, moving back to his fireside chair.
Obviously Jal was intent on proving his devotion to duty; his hat was hung with rapidly melting icicles and his greatcoat was heavy with snow water. He started to squelch towards his master. ‘Stay,’ Rhaki ordered sharply, just before the man set a soaking boot to a rather valuable carpet.
‘The two you sent me to seek after are within the maze of the upper Spine Mountains, Master. They would seem to be heading for the Highlands rather than directly here.’
‘Seem? Do you not know more surely? What reports from the herders on the Middle Plains?’
‘Master, some herders saw two Dragons with riders on their backs. There is turmoil at such tales. Even those who saw the Dragons try to believe they imagined such a sight. Those who did not see the Dragons pour scorn on the idea.’
‘There has been no contact, no approach, made by the two I seek to any others?’
‘No Master, the opposite rather. They avoid humans and go far around towns and cities.’
‘And their names?’
‘I regret, no names were spoken Master.’
‘Hmm,’ Rhaki’s long fingers drummed on the broad arms of his chair. Jal did not move, a puddle spreading from his boots and steam rising from his coat. Rhaki abandoned his thoughts, ‘Go then Jal. Standing around in wet clothes will do you no good.’ He waved dismissively and Jal bowed soggily and left his Master’s presence.
So the Dragons were being used as transport, not just as pet companions as he had supposed. Rhaki decided that that proved how simple minded and docile they must be despite their great size. He felt Emla had made a sad misjudgement here; fengars were naturally aggressive and fought fang and hoof with their riders whereas a slow and ponderous Dragon would be of no significance. Misjudgement by Emla was advantage to himself.
They were in the Spine Mountains were they? He would appear to the Shardi later and tell them they could earn much of his pleasure by capturing these two servants of Emla’s. And he would have to remember to be very clear that he meant he wanted them captured alive.
Rhaki pulled a tasselled cord beside the fireplace. At once, two knocks sounded on his door. ‘Come, Bark.’ Rhaki did not bother to turn as his body servant entered. ‘I have work to do but I will need food later. Roast meat, cheese, fruit and hot wine outside the door in two hours. See to it Bark.’
‘Yes Master.’ Bark bowed his shadow-like form at Rhaki’s back and silently departed.
Rhaki lifted a lantern from the mantelshelf and lit it with a taper from the fire. He took a heavy cloak from a hook and wrapped it around his tall body. Going to the wall opposite the fireplace, just beyond the long run of bookshelves, he laid his hand on the smooth rock. He moved his fingertips lightly, feeling for the slight indentations, then he pressed harder in a particular sequence. The apparently seamless rock opened smoothly into a dark space.
Stepping into the opening, Rhaki paused to touch points on the inner wall and silently the rock resealed itself. He had no real need of the lantern as he stepped quickly along the passageway. He knew this downward sloping path by heart. It amused him to use a light, as most humans would have to do. He had long ago accustomed himself to all things to do with darkness. Twenty minutes later, he was before an apparent dead end, but once again he pressed his fingertips to certain spots upon the cold rock. Once more, a doorway swung open and he left it open as he entered the chamber within.
Taking a taper from a jar on a shelf beside the entrance, he took flame from the lantern and touched it to candles set around the room. It was perhaps five man lengths across, and perfectly circular. The wall of living rock curved gently up to make a high domed roof. As each candle was lit, Rhaki kept his gaze firmly on the flame, never glancing to the centre of the room. When the last candle shone perfectly straight, he pinched out the taper, returning it to the jar.
Rhaki stood just inside the open door, his eyes on the rock before his feet. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to look on the Sacred Balance. Seven black disks gleaming dully in the steady candlelight, floated chest high from the floor. One of Emla’s Weights WAS lost he thought exultantly, although he strained to keep his mind as calm as he could lest anyone or anything be observing him, unlikely as that might be.
The Weights had hung in their impossible suspension above an inlaid circle of crystal and gold set into the floor, always level with his eyes. At the end of the last Cold Season, he had come to this chamber and had been stunned to see they had begun to drop lower. It could only mean that Emla had lost one of her counter-weights. Rhaki had fled the chamber then, unable to control or conceal his excitement, but he had returned several times since to verify this unbelievable fact.
He dropped his gaze again and lifting the lantern, he turned to leave the chamber. Unable to resist the melodramatic gesture, he waggled his fingers as he closed the rock door, causing the candle flames to be instantly extinguished. He retraced his steps only a short way and halted by another door. This was more conventional in that it was clearly outlined on the
wall and opened towards him.
He entered a cupboard that in turn gave into a large room, faintly lit by glow lamps. A door on the opposite side of the room gave access to the household staff who worked in here. They had no knowledge of this rock doorway at the back of the cupboard, from where Rhaki could peep out to ensure he was alone.
This was where Rhaki kept various beasts. There were hoppers, squeakers, feathered singers and a few, very poisonous, writhers. After checking there were no servants cleaning or feeding the collection of animals, Rhaki swiftly left the cupboard and went to a caged run full of hoppers. They became tame very easily and now rushed to the side of their cage in the hope that this two legs had food for them.
Unlatching a small door, Rhaki thrust his hand inside, grasped a large black hopper and pulled it from the cage. It screamed eerily with the shock of being so suddenly removed from its brethren, but Rhaki held it firmly and took it with him, back through the cupboard.
Further yet up the rock passage went Rhaki and the now silently shivering hopper under his arm. Another hidden doorway, and Rhaki was in a room he used for certain rituals, magics, experiments. Putting the lantern he still carried on the tabletop, he then lifted the hopper so that it was face to face with him.
Rhaki began to chant softly, monotonously, staring into the hopper’s large brown eyes, which quickly became glazed and fixed, its body relaxed and limp. He laid the hopper gently on the table, its ears drooping and its pink nose twitching with each breath. Still chanting, Rhaki pushed his cloak back, freeing his arms, and placed a large goblet upon the table beside the hopper.
From the hundreds of jars, and pots, and bottles, lining shelves on each wall, he chose certain pinches of needful ingredients. There was a great importance in adding these ingredients in the correct order, disaster could result from the slightest error – a sorely beset stomach being the very mildest of these.
Rhaki added a small quantity of wine – the very best from the distant South Land vineyards, and stirred the potion with a long sliver of bone. Laying aside the bone, he lifted a thin curved blade in his right hand while he turned the hopper with his left. The blade sliced down through the hopper’s breast and Rhaki’s fingers were seeking through the chest bones for the beating heart. He held the heart above the goblet, squeezing every drop of blood from it. Tilting his head, he swallowed the heart and raised the goblet to his lips. He drained the potion then turned to a smaller table where he sat gazing steadily into a bowl of glassy black stone. He put his bloody hands on either side of the bowl and stared into its emptiness with total concentration.
‘Shardisi! Your Master is ready to speak to you!’
Inside the bowl, the blackness swirled as if a finger stirred paint. Colours flickered through the black, whirling dizzily. Gradually a scene began to clarify, becoming the interior of a cave of ice. Several white shapes appeared in the scene, slowly taking more solid form. A shaggy faced, hulking beast glared at Rhaki, whose body sat empty and rigid at the table in his stronghold. His spirit form was in the presence of these Shardisi, looking, he knew, completely solid. The terror plain in the yellow eyes made a mockery of the bared fangs and clenched claws of these slow-witted creatures.
Rhaki stood before them, calm and relaxed. One by one, the Shardisi fell to their knees, whimpers of fear replacing the snarls.
‘Two will try to pass through your lands – small creatures of two-leg tribes. They may have Dragons with them.’ Fear boiled off the hairy bodies at his feet. ‘There is nothing to fear from Dragons, my fearless ones! The two-legs I would speak with, so you are to capture them for me. I repeat, they are to be brought to me alive or you will feel your Master’s anger.’ Moans came from the now prostrate Shardisi. ‘Look at me Shardisi, look at your Master!’
Slowly and fearfully, yellow eyes lifted to look at Rhaki. He spread his open hands towards them. ‘Please me, and I will give pleasure to you.’ His form wavered, and winked out, the Shardisi now groaning and sighing as ecstatic pleasure pulsed through their ungainly bodies.
Rhaki stirred. He was slumped at the table, his outstretched hands empty, dropped beside the bowl. His heart raced and his head ached. Forcing himself to his feet, he poured a little wine into the goblet, swirling it around before drinking it. He took a soft cloth and wiped the goblet clean and dry before placing it beside the amplifying bowl. Such an expenditure of power always drained him utterly. But creatures such as the Shardisi had to be approached thus, they took notice of nothing more subtle.
The hopper’s corpse Rhaki wrapped in another rag and took with him as he wearily left the room. It was a great effort to climb the passage back to his library and he sighed with relief as the rock door slid silently shut behind him. He doused the flame in the lantern and removed the cover from a glow lamp over the fireplace. He tossed a couple of logs, and the hopper, onto the embers of the fire and removed his cloak.
Outside the other door he found a large tray with covered dishes from which arose the inviting aroma of roast meat. He stooped, biting back a groan and making a mental note to have a higher bench put beside his door, and returned to his fireside with the tray. Despite his fatigue, he made himself eat the hot meat, and drink some of the spiced wine, to restore a little of the energy he had lost in contacting the Shardisi.
He ate some cheese and found himself going over recent events yet again: the death of Jerak, whose power all believed to be the strongest of all, yet he, Rhaki, had destroyed Jerak with his cunning and his superior craft. Then the first intimation that Emla had been so careless, so foolish, as to lose one of the Weights entrusted to her keeping.
Yet again, Rhaki started to go over his intricate plans to find that lost weight and to steal more from her, making his position finally unassailable. He leaned his head back on his chair and closed the dark eyes so deeply set in his gaunt face. No, no, he was far too exhausted for serious thought he told himself. He contemplated instead his dream of the future – a future in which he alone held the power of this world. The future in which Emla would have to beg him to spare the lives of her various creatures. He chuckled happily at the thought of a future in which all would tremble at the name of Rhaki and abase themselves before their Master.
Chapter Eight
Soul Bonds: Book 1 Circles of Light series Page 7
