Oracle of Delphi

by James Gurley

  “Let’s go,” he said.

  Sira was staring at one of the paintings with a bemused expression.

  “What?” he asked.

  “This man looks like you.”

  Tad examined the portrait, but saw only an old man dressed in royal garb. “He has gray hair and wrinkles,” he replied, dismissing her comment.

  “No, look at his eyes. Those are your eyes.”

  He knew women were more observant than men, but he could not see himself in the man’s face, although the eyes were the same color as his. “Coincidence,” he said and led the way back up into the Tower.

  The hundreds of stone steps to the surface were harder to climb than they were to descend. Tad’s thighs burned and his lungs ached before he reached the small doorway to the king’s chambers. Behind him, he heard Sira panting as well. Before opening the door, he paused, listening. Hearing nothing, he pushed on the door and stepped out into the welcoming light.

  Sira grinned at him. “Someday I wish to spend more time in the Observatory.”

  Tad wasn’t certain that the room’s only function was observing the skies and stars. It might have once had uses more mundane as a spy tool, but he was glad Sira found it interesting. “I can arrange it.”

  She put her hands behind her back, looked down at the floor, and scrubbed one boot across the tiles. The black boots no longer shined. They were scuffed, dirty and bore flakes of salt. “I enjoyed our meal and our adventure.”

  Her shy demeanor put him ill at ease. “I’m glad. I often eat alone. It is depressing.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “We should do it again.”

  Their discovery of the Sanctuary and the fact that people still frequented the city troubled him. He recalled the man from the restaurant and his colleagues and the attacks on him and the king. Was he placing Sira in danger? He could not do that.

  “Perhaps later, when my duties permit,” he replied with no warmth in his voice. He saw her cheeks blush and her nostrils flair.

  “Ah, yes, your duties,” she said, her voice hardened. “I must go now. I have much studying to do.”

  Tad nodded, knowing he had angered her and wishing he could think of another way to distance himself from her. He longed to kiss her goodbye, but feared he could not do what was necessary. He did not want to risk her safety.

  “I’ll call the guards for an escort.”

  She looked at him coldly. “There is no need. I can find my way home alone.”

  Tad escorted her to the lift. “I’ll try to visit soon.”

  She nodded.

  As the doors closed, Tad wanted to yell to remind her that he was avoiding her for her own good, but knew such an admission would only serve to anger her even more.

  “How stupid!” he yelled out to the empty corridors, but only heard his echo in response.

  19

  DOUBTS

  THE WEEKS AFTER SIRA'S VISITED PASSED SLOWLY AS SUMMER'S muggy heat gave way to autumn’s welcome breezes. The days became clear and crisp and the nights cooler. Tad sneaked away to the Watcher’s hidden Library as often as possible, learning many secrets and gaining cryptic knowledge that enhanced his lessons with Theliolis, but each new bit of information or lore only led to more questions; each book led to the next like pieces in an endless puzzle. There seemed to be so many books missing from the shelves that Tad assumed they had been lost over the centuries. Or, he thought cynically, perhaps the Plin had deliberately hidden them.

  Tad had decided not to mention the existence of the Sanctuary cavern he and Sira had discovered beneath the Black Tower to Simios. He was afraid that whoever had inhabited the house by the lake might learn of his visit and seek to eliminate him or Simios as a threat to their secrecy. He did not venture into the cavern again for the same reason. He avoided Triocs whenever possible and had the odd feeling they were observing him each time he saw one hovering overhead. He began to pay more attention to them. Their movements raised many questions in his mind. They were everywhere in the city, but seemed to gather in greater numbers near the park. Tad wasn’t sure if an entrance to the caverns lay within the park’s boundaries or if the Triocs simply preferred the open. Who had been their mysterious masters and why had their masters left them behind? How intelligent were the Triocs? He knew a few people claimed the ability to communicate with them by gestures and simple commands, using them for simple errands. Was this true communication or simply training?

  He visited Sira once in early autumn as the evenings were beginning to cool and was disappointed but not surprised to find her distant and petulant. He knew he was to blame, but it still hurt to see her so aloof. He missed her smile and her easy laughter. They strolled through the park and fed the birds, speaking little and making eye contact even less. He suggested that they visit the Observatory hoping to cheer her up. Instead, a new melancholy fell upon her, as if she was reluctant to revisit the Black Tower. She begged off claiming a heavy class schedule. He did not press the point. Upon parting, she smiled and bade him good luck, but he felt her heart was not in it.

  He wondered if she was seeing Janith. He had not seen the Warrens’ self-proclaimed king in months. If she had taken up with a new companion, he could not fault her. He had forced her away from him for fear of her safety in spite of his true feelings for her. He suspected that she had also fallen in love with him, but he had rejected her attentions. They were both at that awkward age when emotions became confusing and egos bruised easily. He had left her nothing to which she could cling or a reason to hope. She was a beautiful girl just coming into recognition of her body and her effect on men. It would be only natural for some other man to find her as desirable as he did.

  One surprise of the Tower proved to be the Regent Saxtos. The Regent had taken to visiting Tad once a week for an hour or so, often for as long as two hours, discussing Tower gossip, inquiring about Tad’s studies, or playing a long-running game of chess, a game for which Tad had developed a fondness. Saxtos played the game with the ease and certainty of a master, Tad a rookie, but Saxtos encouraged his every move until he once battled Saxtos to a draw. Tad thought it might have been through Saxtos’s manipulation of the board, but it served its purpose by boosting Tad’s confidence in his game. He knew that he would never become a master, but at least he was becoming a worthy opponent. While they did not become close friends, as was clearly Saxtos’s intention, Tad welcomed his visits as a source of information and as a chance to improve his game.

  One afternoon, Saxtos sat sipping a glass of red wine waiting patiently for Tad to decide on his next move. It was a difficult choice, for Saxtos had once again dominated the game and had boxed-in Tad’s Queen. His King was in jeopardy. Any one of a number of poor choices would cost him the game.

  Saxtos mentioned casually, “You have a female friend who attends the University, do you not?”

  Tad looked up, distracted by Saxtos’s offhand comment. He was not aware Saxtos knew about Sira although he had made no secret of her. What concern was Sira to Saxtos? “Yes, though I have not seen her in some time. Why do you ask?” He tried to keep his voice casual so Saxtos would not detect his apprehension.

  “Oh, nothing really. It is just that our security people have finally discovered the remains of a professor of hers, a Doctor Liess. The authorities sought him for questioning after the first attack on our king, but he disappeared. Evidently, he has been dead for quite some time. More is the pity. We had many questions to ask him.”

  His interest now piqued, Tad asked, “Where did you find him?”

  “In a hidden room within the Black Tower.”

  Tad’s heart jumped and his pulse raced. He struggled to reveal no emotion to Saxtos as he said, “Hidden room?”

  “Yes, it was long thought to be unused, but in an annual check of the foundations of the Tower for structural damage, it was discovered the room had recently been cleaned. It was once some type of observatory.”

  Tad dropped the rook he was holding onto the board, inadve
rtently knocking over his King. Beads of perspiration broke out on his forehead. If they knew of the observatory, they must know of the entrance in the king’s bedroom. “Excuse me.” He picked up his rook and placed it with trembling hand opposite one of Saxtos’s pawns. “You’ve lost your pawn, I believe.”

  Saxtos shook his head. “Not a wise move on your part, I’m afraid. I have many pawns remaining and you have so few allies.” He moved his Queen across the board. “I’ve taken your King. You have lost this time. Checkmate.”

  Tad barely noticed the board, trying to decide if Saxtos was toying with him. Was the Regent there to interrogate him? “So I see,” he answered.

  “Each loss, each poor decision, allows me to analyze your past moves and project your future moves, your future decisions. In this manner, I can always stay several moves ahead of you. It is a useful tool that our security people utilize quite well. They will soon solve this matter of the dead Professor and his connection to the rebels. You need not fear for our king’s safety much longer.”

  Tad gulped. “That is gratifying to hear.”

  “Well, I must on my way. Duty calls as usual. I enjoy our pleasant conversations. It would be a shame if they were to end.”

  Tad gulped. “Will they?”

  Saxtos smiled. “Who can predict the future? There is much business to which I must attend—the king’s coming birthday, the discussion of new taxes with the finance minister, the formation of a larger army to ferret out the rebels, and the matter of the dead professor. Time will tell.”

  As Saxtos swept from the room, Tad collapsed in his chair. His hands trembled so badly that he had to sit on them to stop them from shaking. He was certain Saxtos suspected he knew about the hidden room accessible through the king’s chambers. Were there other entrances he did not know? Did the Regent also suspect him of being a rebel? If so, why not arrest him outright? Tad knew the professor’s body had not been in the Observatory when he and Sira had visited it, and he and King Karal had been there two weeks earlier. How then had the body gotten there? More to the point, who had deliberately placed the body there in a move meant to incriminate him?

  Tad thought first of what would happen to the king if the Council removed him as the king’s companion. All his long months of work would be for nothing. The Council’s grip on the young king would grow even tighter, wresting even more power in his name. Then, he realized he could face execution if he was determined to be a rebel. He had met so many people since arriving. Any one of them could have been working for the Council as a spy. Should he leave the city? No. That would be foolish, a sure sign of guilt. His best chance was to remain as he was, close to the king, and hope for the best. Unfortunately, this was not to be.

  Two days later, as Tad fought his hundredth battle to instruct his young ward in the essentials of eating with a knife and fork, the king suddenly dropped his utensils, sat rigidly in his seat, and stared into space. Tad grew immediately concerned.

  “Karal? Your Majesty?” he called several times with no response. He turned the king in his seat to face him and looked into the king’s eyes. They were unblinking, giving no hint of life behind them. It was as if he were in some kind of trance. After a few minutes, the king finally spoke, though still in his trance:

  “Heavens turn, events transpire

  Time stands still with rocks on fire

  A journey soon in sad disgrace

  In futile search of hidden race

  Beyond a wall of frozen night

  Shadows cast by triple light

  But know this now before you leave

  A friend you trust will soon deceive.”

  After speaking these words, the king slumped forward, caught himself before his head hit the table, and looked up at Tad with tears in his eyes.

  “Tad leave now?”

  Tad was not sure how to answer. Were the king’s words a prophecy, a prophecy of betrayal? Were they for him?

  He patted the king’s hand. “No, Your Majesty. I will never leave your side.”

  As he spoke, he wondered if he could keep his promise.

  A week later, after a long hard day of enduring the king’s tantrums as Karal suffered through a toothache, Tad returned to his rooms, exhausted and irritable. He wanted nothing more than a hot relaxing bath and a glass of wine. He began to undress as soon as he entered his suite, as he usually did, dropping discarded articles of clothing on the floor for a servant to pick up later. In the process, he noticed clothing that was not his—black knee-high boots, a red cloak and a woman’s silken undergarments. Intrigued, he looked into his bedchamber and saw the Lilith Councilmember Meran in his bed, the covers pulled up to her neck, one long, naked, tanned leg protruding from beneath the blanket.

  “Do not be afraid, Tad de Silva,” she said in a silky smooth voice as he stood and stared in awe. “I have heard so much about you, it intrigued me. I thought perhaps we should become better acquainted.”

  “What, er, what do you want?” he stammered, frightened by her sudden appearance but intrigued as well.

  “No more than you likely do. It is lonely in the Black Tower, is it not? Your young companion, Sira; I have not seen her about lately.”

  Tad nodded silently, shocked that Meran knew so much about him. “She has been busy with her studies.”

  Meran smiled. “That must be difficult for you.” She threw back the covers, revealing her naked body. Even among the Lilith, who took pride in their remarkable looks, Meran was exceptionally beautiful. Unlike most Lilith, however, she shared none of her race’s disdain of men. He could not prevent his eyes from devouring her body, lingering long on her smooth, perfectly tanned thighs and her small but firm breasts.

  “Why not join me?” she purred. “You are nearly undressed now.”

  Tad stood transfixed, unable to move. Simios’s warning concerning Meran and his own innate distrust of her warred with his desire for her.

  “Then I will join you.”

  The gorgeous Lilith rose from his bed and sauntered across the room. She placed one hand palm-down on his chest and pressed. Fire exploded through his skin and he expected to smell seared flesh. She leaned closer and stared into his eyes. He could feel his soul ooze from his body like water and flow into her dark orbs. Her tongue flicked out and caressed his lips and cheek. Before he knew what was happening, his lips pressed against hers. Without thinking, he placed his arm around her and drew her closer. She responded with equal passion. Her tongue toyed with his, forcing its way down his throat. This was no young lover’s first awkward kiss. It was the deep, penetrating kiss of a woman experienced in pleasuring men. The rumors he had heard about Meran seemed well founded. Tad felt the beginnings of a hormonal surge building in his loins that threatened to overwhelm him. His young body urged him on, but his thoughts focused on the image of her in the Council Chambers as she smiled lewdly at the idea of seducing one so young. With every iota of his being urging him forward, he fought to pull away. He could not. She lifted her leg and wrapped it around his back, rubbing against him. He felt his hand cupping her rounded buttocks, heard soft moans of pleasure coming from one of their throats. He could not tell if it came from his or hers. He was quickly becoming lost in his passion.

  A small part of his mind reminded him that the Councilwoman was a Lilith, able to manipulate men as easily as Mages manipulated matter. He silently repeated a mantra Simios had taught him to focus his mind. Tad felt a new warmth beginning in the center of his chest and spreading to his head. He concentrated on it and urged the small spark into life. Suddenly, a surge like static electricity coursed through his body. He pulled away from Meran.

  Meran stared at him in confusion. “You refuse the gift I offer?” she snapped.

  Tad turned his head to break her almost hypnotic gaze. The spark he had birthed had died, but it had done its job. “I must.”

  Her face clouded with anger. “Fool! I freely offer you what most men dream of possessing and you refuse me? I offer pleasure beyond y
our wildest imagination.”

  Tad smirked inwardly at her concept of freely. He knew he could not afford the price she would extract for such pleasure.

  “Nevertheless, I must beg you to leave.”

  Her eyes narrowed and became cold. “I will leave, but you will regret this decision. Mark my words well.”

  Meran rushed to her discarded wardrobe, picked up her cloak, and wrapped herself in it, a shield against his refusal. She ignored her boots and other articles of clothing as she stormed from the room. At the door, she stopped long enough to look back at him with fire burning in her eyes. Oddly, Tad felt no regrets. She was a test that he had passed. He suspected he had just made a determined enemy, but he did not believe her offer was as benign as she protested. He had heard many rumors of the Lilith’s sexual prowess. Though they abhorred men, they could enslave them through sex. He was lucky he had refused her tempting offer. He was proud of his strength in refusing, but decided his encounter was something he would not mention to Sira, if she ever spoke to him again.

  How had he managed to refuse her when so many had not? Certainly, it had not been from lack of desire; she had elicited responses from his body he had not known himself capable of, nor had it solely been his mind’s image of Sira and his love for her. No, something inside him had sparked to life as he had recited the mantra, something very strange. It had felt much like when he juggled globes of smoke or when concentrating on one of Theliolis’s more difficult conjurings. He wondered if it was what Askos had sensed in him and if so, if it was something he could learn to control.

  From that day onward, Tad sensed a subtle undercurrent in the tensions of the Black Tower. Even the guards seemed on edge, less relaxed and uncommunicative. King Karal, more sensitive than most to such emotions, became pensive, seeking quiet corners in which to hide or sitting for hours staring out the windows and refusing to eat. Tad worried for the young king’s health. Simios, on one of his regular visits, sat Tad down and spoke with him.