by Rob Bayliss
They stopped as a dais of stone steps rose before them. Above them the Khan and his wife, Queen Shareen, sat on carved wooden thrones. Behind them was the symbol of the Khanate, once again on a large tapestry.
The Khan’s deep voice boomed once more. “We welcome you, Captain Sendel. And as a representative of Dominar Broud, we congratulate him on his victory over the enemy. We wish to show our gratitude for his ridding the Cheama of slavers and pirates. We have much to discuss later, however … as well as yourself, you bring me other ambassadors of the dominar to the Cheamanite coast.” The Khan’s gaze strayed to Tuan and his companions. “Who speaks for you? Come forth and tell me who you are, and what you seek.”
Tamzine looked at Tuan. He nodded and stepped forward, bowing low before the Khan and his Queen. “Khan Chenkish. My name is Tuan Blackstone of the Gewichas. The giant is my friend Bronic Fellspear of the Turanesci, and we both have the honour to serve the banners in the 1st Cheamas, based in Northport. This,” Tuan said, indicating his other two companions, “is Tamzine Claypit of the Gewichas, who served with distinction in General Broud’s bodyguard at the battle of Broad Holm. And this is Klesh Startooth of Clan Raven, of the Flint folk beyond the Hailthorns. We seek your permission to pass through your lands on our journey east on Imperial business.”
The Khan looked down impassively, his bejewelled fingers tapping on the arm of his throne. It seemed as if he sat there for an age, saying nothing. The only sound was the shuffling of the group’s feet, and the soft tapping of the Khan’s ringed fingers on wood as he regarded them. From the guardsmen who flanked the companions came no movement or sound. They stood as still as the statues that were behind them.
From deep in his chest the Khan spoke. “So, Tuan Blackstone, how is it that Dominar Broud sends Summerlanders from last year’s muster on this errand? Why you Gewichas? Why not men of Taleel, tried and trusted veterans, not yearling recruits? And what is this errand of yours? Where are you headed east of the Khanate?”
“Lord Khan,” Tuan began, “during the recent War of the Cheama we found much that was barely known of Acaross; we discovered useful information that might help in their defeat. We unlocked their secret of light communication, their ability to send orders from one horizon to another. We discovered much of their undersea vessels and Admiral Carnak found a way to counter the explosive harpoons that caused such devastation ten years ago at the Straits of Tahlinjin ….” Tuan’s voice trailed off.
The Khan looked unimpressed behind an impassive visage. “You have ceased talking Gewichas! Why? These things we already know. What else do you seek? What are you not telling me?”
Tuan looked around. He was surrounded by the Khan’s guardsmen; they all had ears, eyes and tongues in their heads. What he knew must go no further than from this room.
“Very well, Lord Khan,” Tuan began, his hand reaching down the neck of his tunic, “I will tell you what we seek, but first….”
Tuan drew forth the Sun Shard, softly singing a song of light as old as the world. Klesh fell to his knees, looking at the sacred crystal in awe. From a thousand facets shone the light of a thousand rainbows, dazzling and entrancing. Bronic and Tamzine smiled at the sight, their faces bathed in its glow. Sendel and Culdur looked on in shock. The tower warden looked on in horror. Queen Shareen looked on, as if bewitched by the dancing colours.
The Khan jumped up from his throne and looked on in fury. “What is this? Guards!” he roared, but it was already too late.
The air crackled as the Sun Shard shot a spectrum of crystalline light into the slanting beams that shone down from the high windows. The light that flooded the chamber took on an orange hue, becoming solid, hard and unyielding. The guardsmen were frozen, unmoving, as if they were insects fossilised in amber; their eyes unseeing, their ears unhearing.
“Worry not for your men, Lord Khan, they are merely locked in the moment. You asked why us, Lord Khan,” Tuan began. “Because of this … this legacy of power, passed to me from Klesh’s brother, Kress, a warrior, priest, war cleric, and my friend and teacher. I am the Bloodshadow. I shape the world and dispel shadows, for there are shadows in this world, Lord Khan, shadows darker than any man’s cruel intent.”
Queen Shareen smiled and reached her hand to the Khan. “Husband, be not afraid. It is beautiful, is it not? Be seated,” she gently urged.
The Khan slowly sat back down. His wife was correct; the light was beautiful and it soothed the soul, as if he had found something deep within himself that he never knew that he had lost.
Tuan lowered the Sun Shard, content that the spell was woven. “While General Broud and Admiral Carnak waged war in the Cheama and on the Holms, the 1st Cheamas journeyed over land through the Great Marsh toward the Talons Delta. It was suspected that the enemy had a base hidden there, from which they were conducting their operations. This was found to be true. We located the base and annihilated it, liberating many folk who the enemy had enslaved. Some of your folk were amongst them and will be returning home soon. However, in the wooden built base we found a single building of stone guarded by a creature who was once a man of Acaross, driven by cruelty. He kept our companion Klesh here in worse conditions than you do your hounds.”
Klesh lowered his head and clenched his mutilated hands. The Khan and his wife looked at Klesh in pity, beginning to understand now the deep wounds inflicted on the Flint Father, not all of them on his flesh.
The Khan spoke up. “You said a creature? Once a man?”
“Yes, Lord Khan, for he was no longer flesh and blood. He was a soulless thing, his body knitted together by shadows and dark spells. Six of our companions, among them Tamzine’s brother, were sent to their deaths as he laughed at the mortal wounds they attempted to inflict upon him. He could not be killed by weapons of steel, but he could be rendered powerless by the separating of his parts and the dispersing of them. Thanks to Bronic’s butchery of the creature, we got past him and gained access to the building of stone.”
Tuan paused, remembering the horror. “We entered the building, the three of us,” Tuan said, indicating Bronic and Klesh, “with three other comrades and our commander. It was a haven, a domain of deathly shadows in the sunlit world of the living. Inside was darkness and evil vomited into being, an evil of which the creature we had defeated outside was merely a mockery. Ancient it was, its flesh decayed and shrivelled, but clinging stubbornly to existence. Not wholly human, if ever it had been.” Tuan sighed. “It entrapped me. It was going to take me through a gateway, an insane portal from where it had emerged. The light of the Sun Shard was extinguished, all was black, and my mind became a vessel of shadows. We were all powerless in the fear of it, a fear that split the mind, stretching it between the realms of the living, the dead, the future and past, madness and sanity. Powerless, that is but for one. One driven by honour and duty and most of all by love; he broke the fear spell and wounded it. He was able to cast the creature though the portal, but only by hurling himself at it. He followed the creature through the dark gate. He was lost to us, to all of us,” Tuan said, looking sadly at Tamzine.
Queen Shareen stood and walked slowly down the steps of the dais. “And this one lost was your commander; was Rendroc Kaziviere?” she said confidently.
“Yes, my Lady,” Tuan confirmed.
Queen Shareen stopped in front of Tamzine. She reached out to her chin and raised Tamzine’s face, her thumb gently stroking Tamzine’s cheek under a tear-stained eye. “And you are the maiden who laments.”
Tamzine’s eyes met Queen Shareen’s. The tall Queen of the Khanate put her arm around the Razoress and kissed her forehead.
The Khan addressed Tuan. “You think your commander still lives? Could you not have followed him through this dark gate?”
“Yes, Lord Khan, we are sure of it. We captured an apothecary in the base and from his interrogation we learned the nature of these stonehouses. They are scattered throughout the dominions of Acaross. As well as serving as temples to their dark fai
th they allow this creature, this Messiah of Shadows, to cross his Empire, manipulating the enslaved peoples of Acaross to his will. Somewhere Commander Kaziviere would have emerged from a stonehouse in a foreign, unknown land. As for the stonehouse we captured, the dark magic that opened the gate had gone with its fell master. Regaining control of myself, and the Sun Shard, I cleansed the place of shadows, cauterized this foul infection that festered in our world.”
The Khan ran his bejewelled hand over his beard. “So now you journey east, to the lands of Acaross, to seek more of these stonehouses and your commander?”
“Yes, Lord Khan. Klesh here journeyed ten years ago far into the east, beyond the mountains that bound the Summerlands, and far over the desert beyond, before his capture and enslavement.”
The Khan looked at Klesh. “And what did you seek all those years ago, Klesh Startooth?”
Klesh looked up and met the Khan’s eyes. “I sought the Womb of the World, Lord Khan of the Cheamanites.”
The Khan looked puzzled. “The Womb of the World? What is this?”
Tuan spoke up on behalf of his Flint Father companion. “It is a sacred place to the Flint folk, since time immemorial, already fading to legend but lost to them utterly since the conquest of the Summerlands centuries ago. What Klesh saw there leads us to believe that its fate is linked to these stonehouses. What he saw there was not the temple the memory songs of his people tell of, but a black pyramid, blacker than the darkest starless night.”
“Lord Khan,” the tower warden said in his old reedy voice, “we sit between Taleel and Acaross, who knows how the war will fare and where it will leave us? We may yet have to come to some arrangement with the shadowed lands. Should we aid this errand?”
The Khan raised his palm. “Peace, Chevenc, old friend, you will voice your concerns with Captain Sendel. But regarding these four ….” He turned back to Tuan. “I am inclined to assist you anyway; when the muse of songs becomes flesh in my audience chamber my wife will have decided for me. I should listen, or my marriage bed would grow cold, I think.” He smiled at Queen Shareen, who smiled back. “But what you speak of,” he said, turning once more toward Tuan, “perhaps we can assist each other. Tomorrow my court is due to journey inland to our residence in the foothills; from there a pass can be accessed through the Sky Crags. I will grant you and your companions both steeds and provisions for the journey there and beyond. Perhaps you can join us and we can travel together, before you embark further?”
“Thank you, Lord Khan. You honour us. We will be happy to accompany you,” Tuan said, bowing.
“Excellent. All will be prepared for you,” the Khan said, smiling. “We will see you on the morrow. In the meantime please enjoy the hospitality of Keanasa.”
Queen Shareen kissed Tamzine on the forehead once more. “Tell me about your Rendroc Kaziviere on the road. I look forward to speaking with you.” She released Tamzine from the embrace and made her way back up the dais toward her throne.
Tuan sang softly. The Sun Shard glowed through its colour spectrum once more. The air shimmered as the frozen light melted and dissolved into the slanting light beams that shone down from the roof, once again catching the dust that danced in the morning sunlight. He replaced the crystal under his tunic as its inner rainbow light faded. The guardsmen stood, released. The moment passed and they remained unaware of anything having happened.
“Chevenc,” the Khan said, addressing the tower warden, “pray, show our guests out and direct Captain Sendel and his companion to the small chamber, where we will discuss affairs of state in more comfortable surroundings.” He turned to Sendel. “I will join you there shortly, Captain.”
“Thank you, Lord Khan.” Captain Sendel said, bowing once more. Tuan and his companions followed suit and followed the aged warden through the double doors out of the audience chamber.
The Khan and his wife watched them leave. Queen Shareen reached her hand across, between the thrones and grasped the Khan’s. The Khan smiled and turned to his wife.
“I know that look in your eyes. You are thinking things over, dear wife. What are your thoughts?” he asked, his eyes sparkling and looking deep into hers.
“I was thinking how useful it would be to have a young Sun Shard wielder at the disposal of the Khanate,” she said, smiling.
The Khan smiled and lifted his wife’s hand to his lips, where he kissed it. “I had a mind toward exactly the same thing. Perhaps you would like to have a talk with Karla prior to our journey from Keanasa?
Queen Shareen nodded enthusiastically.
Chapter 7
Morcan Tavili was roused from a restless night of unsettling dreams by the abrupt sensation of his shoulders being shaken. He opened his eyes and saw Inquisitor Braebec Conziva standing over his cot in the grey morning light. The dream images faded and then he remembered the dead conversing the night before. He had wanted magic to reside yet in the world, but the previous evening revealed it was a magic accompanied by a dark landscape of terrors.
“Wake up, Tavili!” Braebec urged. “We need to get aboard our ship. We can get breakfast on the way to the haven of the Bay of Flames. Last night’s festivities have become this morning’s retribution. It is best we are away before revenge is meted out by the angry mob of Taleel.”
Braebec turned around and opened the window of Tavili’s cell. The cold air flooded the room, carrying with it the smell of smoke and the sound of a multitude gathering in the city streets outside the seminary.
Morcan Tavili threw off his blanket, sat up, and swung his legs over the edge of his cot. He rubbed his sleep-filled eyes. Now began his life as an alchemist; now his real training began. He was sure he had locked the door of his cell in fear after last night’s shadowcraft revelations, yet here was the inquisitor in his cell, waking him up.
“Retribution, Lord Inquisitor?” Morcan asked.
Braebec looked back at young Morcan Tavili. “Call me Braebec, Morcan,” the inquisitor said hesitantly. “We can drop the formality. We have a long voyage ahead of us. Yes, in answer to your question, retribution. The mob ran amok last night and cornered Martekt Sligo’s family in their townhouse. The city guards were barely able to keep the drunken rabble at bay. The Sligos will have to make the ashen sackcloth walk to appeal to the Emperor.” The inquisitor sighed and looked back out of the window.
“You don’t hold out much for their chances, Lor … Braebec?” Morcan asked, hesitating over using the inquisitor’s first name. He slipped his tunic over his head and stood upright.
Braebec continued to stare out of the window, his mind far away. “What began as a triumph has become a call for revenge. The mob is being manipulated. Despite preparations for war being clearly shown by the army gathered around the city, an excuse for war has now been supplied. Treachery cannot be brooked, especially now war clouds gather. The Emperor will play to the mob and use the Sligo clan. Their walk of shame will be unpleasant in the extreme and, I fear, ultimately futile.” The inquisitor looked out of the window one more time before turning and marching to the door. “I will see you by the seminary gatehouse in five minutes.”
Morcan watched as the cloaked figure marched across his room. As he approached the door, Braebec flicked the hood of his cloak over his head, covering his dark hair and the distinctive silver streak.
Morcan rushed through his ablutions. His bags were already packed and ready by the door. He threw on his travelling cape and swung his bags over his shoulders. His hand clasped the door handle and then he paused. He turned around to view his cell. It had been his home for seven years. Seven years since he had left his home to begin his studies. Seven years since the pyromancer had urged his parents to send their son far from their home across Cyria, to the seminary in Taleel. He would never see this cell again, he knew this in his heart. Destiny? It was up to him, the individual, to grab hold of it, to accept the gifts thrown in his path. He snatched the door open and strode down the corridor without even looking back.
Morc
an hurried through the dormitory doors and across the cobbled courtyard. Up ahead he saw the Grand Mage and Braebec in conversation by the gatehouse. There were more seminary guardsmen around the gatehouse than usual, a precautionary measure lest there be trouble. The morning was grey with thick, heavy cloud blotting out the sky. It mirrored the oppressive atmosphere that hung over the city, threatening menace.
As Morcan approached, the pair concluded their conversation and watched him draw near. Braebec carried his travelling baggage over his shoulders. The only weapon he displayed openly was a dirk, at rest in its sheath at his side. Morcan knew that the inquisitor’s most deadly weapons were those concealed. The Grand Mage smiled as Morcan stood before him.
“Well, young Tavili, go with my blessing. I hope I am granted the years to see you again.” The Grand Mage held out his palm as he spoke. Morcan bowed and the Mage’s aged hand rested on his head. “May the Fiery One ensure the only shadow that follows you is your own.”
Morcan looked up into the Grand Mage’s eyes. “Thank you, my Lord,” he replied.
The Grand Mage grunted in response and then turned to the guardsmen. “Open the gates; servants of the flame are going into the world.”
The gates were hauled open. Looking down from the plateau on which the seminary was situated, it was clear that many revellers had not gone home, and that many more had put off the beginning of their working day to view the procession of shame that was due to begin.
Braebec paused. He looked out over the Bay of Flames, beyond the haven where their ship waited to eagerly take the high tide. Beyond that was the Mid Sea; further still the Cheama Sea over the far horizon. It had been ten years since he had limped back to the seminary with his broken brother. He had managed to repair himself, immersing in the faith and cleansing the streets of Taleel. But now he went forth, out into the world again where shadows held sway. Here he was, once more facing what had almost killed him. He shivered momentarily and breathed deeply. He turned and held his forearm out to the Grand Mage.
