by Steven Brust
"I do."
"I had not thought such matters involved necromancy."
"How not, Enchantress? Is it not a matter of transfer from one world to another, one plane of existence to another? And is it not exactly at this that a Necromancer is skilled? In fact, I am convinced it is for this reason that this demon, and not another, was sent to us by the Gods."
"I had not considered it in this way."
"Well?"
The Enchantress thought about this for a long moment, at last saying, "Yes, Tukko, I believe you are right."
"I am convinced of it, Enchantress."
"Well then," said Sethra, "now that the Orb has returned, I will reach out to her through it, and speak to her of this, and see if she can manage these safeguards."
"That will be good."
"But, at the best, it will take time for her to do anything."
"Yes. I know. In the meantime, well, you must simply do the best you can."
"I always do."
"Yes, I know that, Enchantress. I know that you do."
Zerika, at this same time, was addressing herself to Khaavren, who had been sitting in silence with Aerich, Pel, and Tazendra. As she approached, the four of them rose to their feet as one and bowed to her, each in his own fashion, a salute which Zerika returned in a rather distracted way.
"Please, sit," she said.
Taking this as an order, they did so. Zerika, however, remained standing, and addressed herself to Khaavren.
"Tell me, Captain, what you conceive our tactical situation to be."
Khaavren ignored the title she had given him, although, as the reader has realized, he was not entirely at ease with it, and said, "Your Majesty, it is not good."
"Well?"
"We wish to reach Dzur Mountain, because there we can manage a certain degree of safety while Your Majesty gathers forces. But I am convinced that this pretender, Kâna, will stop at nothing to gain the Orb, and the army he has at his disposal is, to say the least, formidable. In a word, then, our situation is grim."
Having said this, Khaavren permitted his head to drop onto his breast, as if he were in deep contemplation. Zerika nodded, accepting his judgment, then glanced at Khaavren's friends, and said, "And do you, who among you have great experience, agree with my captain?"
"Oh, yes," said Tazendra, delighted. "The circumstances are so grim as to be nearly hopeless. It is a joy to me."
Aerich, for his part, said, "Your Majesty, it is true that there are considerable forces arrayed against us, in this I cannot disagree with the captain. In truth, I do not know how we can succeed. But I know that we must try, and that is sufficient."
"And you," said the Empress, addressing Pel. "You agree with the others."
"Not in the least," said the Yendi.
"How, you do not?"
"I do myself the honor of standing in disagreement with them, yes."
The others looked at Pel, who had accompanied these words with a graceful bow in their direction.
"In what way do you disagree? Please be specific."
"Oh, Your Majesty need not fear that I will speak in generalities. And I do not dispute that there are tremendous forces at work against us. But—"
"Yes," said the Empress. "But?"
"But there is a circumstance upon which my friends have not reflected."
"I hope," said the Empress, "that, as you have reflected upon this circumstance, whereas they have not, you will do us the honor of sharing these reflections."
"I am about to do so."
"And then?"
"It is simply this," said the Yendi. "For the first time in hundreds of years, the four of us—that is, Aerich, Tazendra, Khaavren, and I—are together, united. Consider what we have done in the past. For my part, I can conceive of no force, of any kind, that can stand against us."
Zerika frowned, considering this, but made no response.
Aerich smiled a little.
Tazendra grinned and said, "Ah, my dear Pel. I recognize you so well in that!"
Khaavren slowly raised his head, looking at his friends with a kind of fire in his eyes, and said, "Do you know, my dear, I think you may be right."
Chapter the Forty-Sixth
How Morrolan Met an Intriguing
And Unique Individual, Who
Caused a Certain Amount of
Excitement at His Encampment
It was in the middle of the morning on a Marketday in the first year of the reign of the Empress Zerika the Fourth that the Lord Morrolan became aware of a certain commotion in his encampment, by which we mean at the site of the temple and associated fortifications that he was in the process of building. At the time, he was inside the temple structure itself, consulting with Arra about the placement of sconces and other matters of decoration, Arra pretending that plain and simple was in keeping with the nature of the Goddess, whereas Morrolan favored more elaborate adornments. This discussion was interrupted by a young man of the House of the Teckla, who was one of many who assisted the builders in their work. This young man entered, made an obeisance to Morrolan, and said, "My lord, something has happened."
"Well? And what is it, then?" prompted Morrolan, who always preferred some degree of detail when hearing of an alarming event.
"You wish me to tell you what has happened?"
Morrolan frowned. "How, this was not clear to you from my question?"
"Oh, it was clear, my lord."
"Well then?"
"Then I will tell you."
"Well," said Morrolan, "I shall offer my thanks to Verra for that!"
"Shall I wait while you do so?"
"Speak!"
"This is it, then."
"Yes?"
"The first thing that happened, then, is that a wolf appeared."
"How, a wolf?"
"Yes, my lord."
"In the camp?"
"Yes, my lord."
"Well, what next?"
"Next, there was a dzur."
"Ah, ha!" said Morrolan, beginning to understand. "And was my friend the warlock near these animals?"
"Yes, my lord, he was. Right among them."
"Well, if that is all, then—"
"Your pardon, my lord, but that is not all."
"What, there is more? Tell me what it is, then."
"It is the warlock, my lord. He pretends that the wolf and the dzur appeared because of someone entering the encampment."
"Well, and have you seen a stranger?"
"No, my lord."
"And did the warlock say where this stranger was?"
"No, my lord."
"Well, but what did he say?"
"He said to bring you, my lord."
"Ah. Well, now I better comprehend why you have come."
"Then I have done my duty, my lord."
Morrolan shrugged his shoulders and threw a cloak over them, after which he went out into a day that was sufficiently bright, compared to the inside of the temple, that at first Morrolan could do nothing but squint. Presently, however, he saw the short figure of the warlock standing, along with the wolf and the dzur, in the midst of a small group of people who appeared to be engaged in some sort of animated conversation. Morrolan approached them directly.
As he came closer, he noted that Lady Teldra was there, as well as Fentor, his sergeant, whose hand was gripping his sword as if ready to draw it upon an instant. The remaining member of the party was a woman, very tall, very pale, and very thin. But what was most remarkable about this woman was that the two beasts who were the warlock's familiars, each in its own way, showed unmistakable signs of hostility toward this woman, as if they both but waited a word of command before tearing her to pieces.
As Morrolan approached, he observed that the stranger, whoever she was, seemed either oblivious of the threat posed by these animals, or, at the least, unworried by it. As he came near, Fentor turned and bowed, and made some remark to the stranger, who also gave a certain incline of her angular head. In many ways, she had the appearance of a
Dragonlord, though her eyes were, perhaps, set a trifle too far apart, and her noble's point, though present, was not quite sufficiently pronounced.
"Well?" said Morrolan.
Fentor said, "My lord, this person appeared in the camp, and will not give her name, nor tell us whence she came. Do you agree with this, good warlock?"
"Nearly."
"Nearly?"
"You are incorrect on one count, my dear Sergeant."
"And, if you will, in what particular have I erred?"
"She is not a person," said the warlock coolly.
"How, not a person?" said Morrolan and Fentor.
"No, she is an undead."
"Ah," said Morrolan.
"More than that," continued the warlock, "she is also a Necromancer, and certainly the most powerful I have ever known, or, indeed, heard of."
"Bah," said Morrolan. "How can you know that?"
"Sireng told me," he said, indicated the dzur. "And, if that is not enough, she appeared suddenly, amid a shower of golden sparks, which is a means of travel that only a Necromancer is capable of."
"That is true, my lord," said Fentor. "The warlock alerted us to her impending arrival before she had appeared, and we were thus able to see her as she emerged from nothing, exactly as he has described."
Morrolan frowned, not entirely certain how to respond to this intelligence, and turned to the stranger, to whom he gave a polite bow. "I am Morrolan, Lord of Southmoor," he said. "And these are my lands."
"It is you I have come to see," said the Necromancer, speaking in a rather deep but not unpleasant voice, although one nearly devoid of inflection, and with a pronunciation that was quite as pure as that spoken in Dragaera City before the Disaster.
"Ah!" said Fentor. "She speaks! I had begun to wonder."
"If you please," said Teldra to Fentor, with a touch of severity in her voice. Fentor shrugged.
"Well," said Morrolan, "you have not only seen me, but you have spoken with me as well."
"That is true, but I have more things to tell you."
"How, more?"
"Exactly."
"Well, say it, then, I am listening."
"You wish me to tell you now?"
"I beg your pardon, but are you of the same family as the boy who—but no, it could not be. Well, to answer your question, yes, if you would, at this moment—by which, you perceive, I mean right now—do me the honor of saying what you wish to say, and that without taking any more time than should be required, well, I give you my word I would be very grateful."
"Then I will tell you."
"I am grateful."
"A large army of the Duke of Kâna is heading in this general direction, bent on what must be considered evil, and you have the only force in a position to stop it."
"Who, I?"
The Necromancer bowed assent.
Morrolan frowned. "On whose behalf am I to use this force?"
"On behalf of Her Majesty, Zerika, the Empress."
"An Empress named Zerika?" said Morrolan.
The Necromancer bowed once more.
"Someone different from the Emperor Kâna, and from the other pretenders of whom I have heard so much?"
The Necromancer signaled her agreement for the third time.
"So," said Morrolan with a shrug. "It is another Empress. What makes this Empress more legitimate than Kâna?"
"The Orb," said the Necromancer.
Morrolan turned to look at Teldra, whose eyes were wide. "It has returned?" cried the Issola, who, having been born after the Disaster, had no awareness of its presence.
"So I am informed," said the Necromancer.
Teldra stared at the Necromancer, while Morrolan stared at Teldra staring, and Fentor watched Morrolan for a hint of what action, if any, he ought to take. The Necromancer, we should add, for the sake of completeness, didn't appear to be looking at anyone or anything, though her eyes were pointed generally in Morrolan's direction.
"Well?" said Morrolan, addressing Teldra.
"My lord, I do not know."
"But, is it possible?"
"I, well, I imagine it possible, my lord."
"And then, is there a way to discover for certain?"
The Necromancer said, "Anyone who practiced sorcery at the time of what is called the Disaster will be able, with a small effort, to become aware of the return of the Orb."
Teldra nodded. "Yes, that would seem reasonable."
Morrolan nodded to Fentor. "Find such an individual."
"Yes, my lord."
In a very short time, the sergeant returned with a middle-aged Tsalmoth, who was involved in the construction. She bowed to Morrolan, and introduced herself as Oidwa.
"Oidwa," said Morrolan, "is it true that you are a sorcerer?"
She seemed startled. "My lord," she said. "It is true that I had some skill, but that was long ago."
"Before the Disaster?"
"Exactly, my lord. There has been no sorcery since then."
"But, if the Orb were to return, what then?"
"If it were to return, my lord? Oh, but that could never happen."
"Why could it not?"
"Because it was destroyed in the Disaster."
"Oh? And how is it you come to know this?"
"How? Well, but, if it was not, where is it?"
"It is not for you to question me," said Morrolan sternly.
"Yes, my lord."
"What could you use sorcery to do?"
"What could I… my lord, there are so many—"
"Could you light a fire with it?"
"Well, but, yes, surely."
"Do so."
"My lord?"
"Do so now. Start a fire, in that pit at which I am now pointing."
"With sorcery, my lord?"
"Yes, yes. With sorcery."
"But if—"
"Make the attempt, as if the Orb were back."
The Tsalmoth hesitated, then said, "My lord, I will do as you say, of course. But you must be aware that it is pointless. If, indeed, the Orb had returned, I would know it by simply sensing for…"
Her voice trailed off, and her eyes became as wide as flattened pennies.
Morrolan, who could not but observe the remarkable expression that crossed her countenance, and, moreover, the fact that she then fell to her knees, as one who has received a vision of divine origin, looked at her, then said simply, "Well?"
"I believe," said Teldra softly, "that the Orb has returned."
Oidwa, evidently hearing these words, looked at Teldra, focusing her eyes upon her with some difficulty, and nodded. Then she turned, and with a small gesture, started a fire in the place Morrolan had indicated. It is possible that this was the first use of the Orb for sorcery after the Interregnum, although this cannot be established with any certainty.
The Necromancer then said, "My lord," thus recalling Morrolan's attention to her.
Morrolan looked at her, and nodded abruptly. "Very well, I accept that the Orb has returned. And I accept that this—what is her name?"
"Zerika the Fourth," said Teldra, who of course knew her history, and was able to supply the proper numeral to associate with the name.
"Yes," continued Morrolan. "I accept that this Zerika has the Orb. But, what then?"
"Then," said Teldra, "it is the duty of a gentleman to support and defend the legitimate Empress."
Morrolan considered this for a long moment. "Very well. I must consider this matter. In any case, it is clear that I cannot permit this—what is his name?"
"Kâna."
"Yes, I cannot permit this Kâna to over-run me. Therefore, I will gather the army, such as it is. We will set out in the morning."
"My lord," said Fentor. "I do not believe sufficient preparations can be made between now and to-morrow."
"And why is that?"
"Well, Your Lordship must consider that provisions must be organized, order of march determined, weapons and supplies allocated—"
"How lon
g will it take?"
Fentor hesitated. "I believe I could manage it in three days, my lord."
"Three days?"
"Well, perhaps it could be rushed—"
"The morning of the day after to-morrow."
Fentor winced, then nodded. "Very well, my lord. I will see to it at once."
Morrolan then turned to the warlock, who was now standing placidly next to his dog, with his cat sitting between his feet. Of the wolf and the dzur, of course, there was no sign. After taking a moment to recover his composure—he had, after all, just experienced several remarkable revelations—Morrolan said, "Do you leave now, and attempt to discover who they are, how many they are, and what they are doing."
The warlock bowed his agreement with this plan, and turned away to put it into action at once, his dog and his cat following behind him.
The warlock, we should say, wasted no time in gathering a supply of provender for himself and his horse (his familiars, as he called them, were capable of hunting for themselves) and setting out on his mission—that is to say, he was gone within the hour. Fentor, for his part, began at once to prepare such an army as Morrolan had built—scarely three thousand, all told—for as quick a departure as possible.
Morrolan returned to the temple to hold conversation with Arra, whom he found standing at the altar, running her hands along its smooth, polished surface as if it were a pet she was stroking, or as if it was a precious treasure and she alone were responsible for its fate.
She looked up as Morrolan entered and bowed to him respectfully. Morrolan, without preamble, explained to her all that he had just learned, and the actions he had taken in response. "What is your opinion?" he concluded.
"I do not understand on what you do me the honor of asking my opinion," said the priestess.
"Do you believe them? About the Orb?"
"My lord, you must understand that this is not a matter with which I am conversant."
Morrolan sighed and nodded. "Well, I can only hope I have done the right thing, and that, moreover, I will continue to do it. You perceive, this matter of an Empress, a real Empress, has thrown me out of my reckoning, and I am not entirely certain how I ought to respond."
"My lord, what causes this confusion?"
"The notion of serving another. This idea is not pleasing to me."
"I understand."
"But then, Teldra, whom I trust, seems to feel I must do so, as a matter of course."
