‘Then perhaps he meant to put himself to sleep?’ Daneel pondered, but Leopold was not about to blurt out the answer and give himself away.
‘Perhaps,’ Salu admitted with his weary, husky voice. ‘Without his casket, a deep slumber is the next best thing. But it will not last for long.’
‘We must reach him before it is too late,’ Daneel stated with worry.
‘How can we get such an unwieldy thing to him?’ Riggadardian asked. ‘It’s hard enough just getting it in and out of his cabin. And we would have to somehow breach the walls of the palace to reach him. We don’t have nearly enough men remaining for an assault. We have black powder, but that would surely bring the wrath of their sorcerers upon us. Stealth will be out of the question as well. They will be expecting some kind of attack once they learn we are on the move.’
Daneel nodded. ‘Commander, do not worry. We will save your lady and the others. Go. Rest. You have given your all for your men, but you need to recover your strength.’
‘Yes, but we need to move the ship closer to the city,’ the old commander went on stubbornly.
‘Captain Merryweather can see to it all. But where would we put ashore?’ Daneel mused aloud.
‘In the city,’ Salu said. He drew himself upright before their eyes, growing tall and straight as before, like a machine building itself together from the ruins of its own form. His eyes were wide and open, absorbing everything that came into their field of view, staring straight past them towards the east—towards Samuel.
‘That’s right,’ Daneel agreed. ‘We take the box and the ship to Samuel together.’
‘Into the city?’ Riggadardian said. ‘That is madness.’
‘Then trust a madman to think of it!’ Salu snapped. He paced up and down animatedly as he talked, as if impatient to take advantage of his returned strength. ‘Do as I say, young whelp! If we do not act swiftly all life upon this world will be snuffed out before the sun next sets, so hark my words—unless you think you know better?’
Riggadardian flushed. ‘So be it. I trust you have some plan for us, Magician. You’ve been the bane of the Empire all your life. I hope you have nothing treacherous in mind.’
‘I have a plan of a plan. Just get us there and I will do the rest.’ The old magician moved away from them to return staring to the east. It was not the faint glow of the rising sun he was observing; it was the swelling, disturbing energy that drew his attention, an ominous presence that Leopold could feel just as well, pulling at his innards as if a fishing hook had become lodged there, snagged in his flesh and tugging on its line.
They split up to commence their work. Captain Merryweather directed the ship, while Riggadardian went to his cabin to rest as directed. Daneel was barking orders like a madman, getting their landing team prepared. Leopold was left standing idle. Finally, he decided to change his clothes and find some boots.
‘Hold it there,’ Daneel called after him, and the man’s tone was enough for Leopold to know he was in trouble. He turned to await whatever would be dished out. ‘Whatever it is, we’re going to find out,’ Daneel said grimly. ‘You have guilt written all over your face, so I know you’re up to something. Emperor or not, I’ll see to you myself if you lead us into any mischief, or I discover you’ve already been up to any.’
Leopold moved his mouth, waiting for some excuse to fumble its way out, but Daneel had no time to wait and hastened away. There was nothing Leopold could do to avert his fate, so he continued to his cabin as planned, and tried to push all thought of consequences from his mind.
****
The Farstride set sail as quickly as possible. The crew did a valiant job, coming together amidst the scene of slaughter at Captain Merryweather’s and Mr Chapman’s commands, stepping over the dead—friend and foe alike—to get to their work. Of Lieutenant Fillius there was no sign.
The soldiers worked at clearing the decks, now tossing the corpses overboard one after the other, so they left a trail of floating bodies in their wake. They abandoned any option of keeping their fallen comrades aboard for a proper funeral. There was simply no time.
Kali and her three warrior sisters were also skilled medics, and they traversed the expanse of the ship, stripping sail cloth into bandaging and wrapping the wounds with a concoction of various fluids—vinegar, honey and herbs and such that they sourced from the galley. No one but Leopold could understand what they said, so the women took what they needed without hesitation.
Leopold stood on the main deck and watched the moon and stars high above them fading into dawn. He knew what would happen: they would somehow rescue Samuel and the others, and then the magician would reveal his treachery. Could they harm their own Emperor? Would they kill him? Riggadardian would surely never allow such a thing, but Daneel was no Turian. He was capable of anything and he was a Truthseeker. All the Empire could not keep Leopold from harm if Daneel and Samuel decided otherwise.
He hoped Samuel would refrain from physical harm, but the magician’s wrath, in whatever form it took, was enough to make him shiver with dread. He felt tears welling up inside him. He bit them down, holding onto the railing and watching the moon slipping about on the wave tops as they pushed towards The Heavenly City. He squeezed the smooth wood under his fingers as hard as he could, feeling his arms tremble with the exertion. ‘I forgive you, Leopold’, the magician had said. Damn that infernal man! If only he had never come to their island. If only Leopold was with his mother and father now, or sitting on his dumb, boring rock netting fish. He would give anything to be there again. The world could burn around him!
He felt a string of profanities swelling up in his throat, and he was about to shout them out as loud as he could to vent his bitter rage when he realised he was not alone.
‘Are you injured?’ sounded a voice behind him and Leopold quickly turned about and stood straight. It was Kali.
He supposed he may have looked hurt, bent over and clinging to the side of the ship, probably with his face contorted in pain. He swallowed his anger, for he had no wish to let her see him pining for better days like a spoilt child.
‘Are you injured?’ she repeated, looking him over with concern. She had a bucket of foamy water in one hand and a roll of white cloth in the other.
‘Oh ... no,’ he replied.
She nodded and went to continue on her way.
‘Wait!’ he said, stepping after her.
She hesitated. ‘What is it?’
‘I need to ask you something. It will be quick,’ he added, sensing her desire to be back to her work. ‘I don’t really know how to be an emperor. All this is very strange to me.’ She tilted her head, as if trying to find meaning in his words, and set down her bucket. ‘What I am trying to say is, I think I have made an awful mistake.’
‘What did you do?’ she asked him apathetically.
‘I was scared and I ran. Lord Samuel asked me for help, and I could have stayed—I should have stayed—but I was afraid. I couldn’t stop thinking how much I hated him, so ... so I ran away.’ He waited for her to reply reassuringly, but she continued scrutinising him closely. Was that contempt in her eyes?
‘Are you asking for my opinion?’
‘Yes!’ he said quickly. His response was so painfully enthusiastic as to attract glances from some of the passing crew. He knew no one else on the ship could understand what he may say to her, but he was still mindful of keeping his voice lowered.
‘When one suffers from one’s mistakes,’ she told him, ‘every undertaking must be pursued to correct them. Do not let haste be the cause of further errors after the first. After all has been settled, penance should be sought.’ She rattled out her statements as if reciting from memory, then looked at him directly, more acutely. ‘During my training, I was taught that the ruling class of Koia had no faults and could never err, not because they were perfect, but because no one would admit any different. A thousand people would be put to death if an error was made in the collection of taxes. It was easier to r
educe the population than admit mistake. When I look at you, I do not see an emperor, such as I am accustomed. Neither do I see a warrior. I see a child in a man’s body, hiding from manhood, from what he is, seeking to avoid responsibility, but I see a child that is inherently good. If you are really going to be a good emperor—not just an emperor—then you must realise that these people are yours. You own them, as they own you, and you must accept that fact in order to become a man. Any harm that comes to them is harm unto yourself. They are here for you, but you have not yet learnt to be here for them, Emperor Leopold.’
‘So are you saying I have nothing to fear?’
‘No,’ she stated. ‘I am saying that, from what I can tell, you are a coward, but that you possess the capacity to overcome that weakness. A Koian emperor would not flee. A Koian emperor would valiantly go to battle, sending his armies before him to undo his wrongs, while sipping hot tea safely behind the lines. But you are not a Koian emperor. You seem to be something better, despite your failings, and for that I am glad.’ Leopold nodded as he mulled over her words. ‘Now if that is all, I have a question for you,’ she said.
‘What is it?’ he asked, looking back to her.
‘Phoenix and the others—are they truly alive?’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘At least, they were when I last saw them.’
Kali nodded. ‘Then we will save them.’
And with that she picked up her bucket and left him.
****
‘Take the ship close, up the river mouth,’ Salu directed, standing beside them upon the foredeck, flicking the back of his hand in the general direction.
The madman in him had not yet returned, and he appeared as noble as any general or commander, certainly looking more capable than Commander Riggadardian, given that man’s degraded state.
Riggadardian had reappeared from his cabin earlier, unable to find rest. He made attempts to help them, but inevitably trailed off and sat his rear upon the deck, shaking his head in his hands, incapacitated by his grief. It appeared he had taken a bump to the head during the attack, and that was not helping to settle the turmoil in his mind.
‘How close? They will see us,’ Captain Merryweather warned.
‘Have faith, man,’ Salu said gruffly.
They kept the Farstride heading straight up the inlet towards the hub of the city on its eastern shore. Somehow, none of the tiny fishing boats or soldier-bristling warships saw them. They sailed straight past as the vessels rushed out to sea.
The sun had dawned, rising over the distant mountains and, as they neared the palace, the burning sphere appeared as if set upon the apex of one of the narrow spires that decorated the palace roof.
‘The great ships were once forged along these banks,’ Kali informed them. ‘The Eudans have not dredged since they took over, but the river still runs deep right to the palace.’
They kept going and brought their vessel to bear within sight of the long walls that ran around its perimeter. The landing site had long since been destroyed, and only great logs that had once formed the foundations could still be seen, wavering like ghosts beneath the water.
As they skilfully manoeuvred the enormous vessel into place, Leopold could not help but marvel at the change that had overcome Salu. In his present alert state, he seemed twenty years younger at least.
‘What has happened to you, old man?’ he asked.
The pale-eyed magician turned slowly to give his gruff reply. ‘Nothing has happened. No one else is capable of getting us out of this sorry situation, so I am forced to act.’
‘So you are not as mad as you seem. Perhaps that is why Toby seems to like you?’
‘Toby?’ He then followed Leopold’s gaze to the small boy tiptoeing along an edge, balancing with his hands on his head. ‘Oh, him. I don’t know why he follows me. Perhaps it is because we both are open to the world. He seems to enjoy my company.’
‘Open?’
Salu’s piercing gaze locked onto Leopold, glaring out from beneath his thick, white brows and penetrating him. ‘Most people are barely alive. They function as if they’re half asleep, never seeing the details in their surrounds, closed to stimulation. Only children observe the world to full capacity, with a sense of wonderment, absorbing every skerrick of information. Adults spend their years learning to ignore such things, concentrating instead on the banal. Travelling can help undo some of this clog, opening the eyes, the ears, the senses. I like to think of myself as a traveller. Perhaps he does, too,’ he added, nodding towards Toby. ‘He is on a voyage of discovery; a mind soaking up every sensation it can possibly gather, learning the way of the world.’
‘So you have heard everything we say?’
‘No. I ignore you as best I can while I listen to things more important, in the distance or near to my ear, seeking things huge and things miniscule that might otherwise go unnoticed, discovering the beauties of existence. I often get lost in my wanderings. Sometimes, it is harder to find the way back, but I have managed to do so this time, given the need is strong.’
‘How long will you stay?’ Leopold asked him.
‘I suppose that depends on how long this all remains interesting. Now stop bothering me, it is time to go.’
The away team readied themselves, for Kali had identified their point of entrance, a massive rounded sewer pipe that poured into the river. It ran underground beneath the palace walls and would get them into the heart of the grounds, perhaps into the dungeons themselves where any captives would be held. Crewmen pushed a long plank directly out to it. It was much too high to be accessed from the river, but the deck of the Farstride was just the right height to reach it.
‘I don’t like the look of that,’ Leopold said, glancing towards the pipe’s entrance.
‘I don’t like the smell of it, but we’re going anyway,’ Daneel replied.
Leopold sniffed the air, and sure enough some offensive odour was exuding from the pipe. Rusty brown water poured steadily from its end. Leopold scrunched up his nose at the thought of what it may contain.
Daneel went over first with six of his men, three bearing lanterns. Leopold recognised a couple of them as Daneel’s personal guards—the ones who had disposed of Tulan’s body long ago in Cintar.
A tiny crack of worry appeared in Leopold’s mind, for once within the pipes, he would be entirely at their mercy. Those men would do anything Daneel told them, emperor or not. His only solace was that Kali was coming. Given her abilities, he hoped she would side with him if needed.
Kali and her sisters—Eagle, Storm and Destiny—followed, wearing matching blouses and trousers designed to allow them total freedom of movement. They wore light, black shoes, little more than cloth wrapped around their feet and tied with laces. Their hair was tied tightly away from their faces and bound up out of the way. They crossed lightly and easily, with the dexterity of cats on a fence top. Each one looked primed for battle, determined, almost angry, and Leopold felt sorry for whichever Eudan they came across first.
Leopold followed the women, nervous as the plank bounced with his steps. Salu came last, showing none of the caution that the others had exercised whilst crossing the gap. He shuffled along and appeared to stay on it by sheer luck—although they all knew enough by now to realise that was not the case.
The men on the ship were drawing back the plank, when the tiny figure of Toby came running across it, climbing while their backs were turned and bolting across before they noticed, leaping from its tip and landing with a gleeful splash beside the landing party.
‘No, Toby!’ Leopold told him, scolding him like a wayward puppy.
Daneel tried to catch the boy, but he weaved around the man, hiding between Salu’s legs.
‘Come here, you little devil,’ the one-eyed man said with tested patience, but Salu raised a hand, then put it fondly on the boy’s head.
‘I guess that means he’s coming,’ Daneel said. ‘You’d better mind after him,’ he told Salu, who showed no sign of hearing him.
Iron bars blocked their entrance, but Daneel’s men had already tied a dozen sturdy ropes to them and now threw the other ends back to the ship.
‘Can you not open it, Salu?’ Leopold asked.
‘Let the soldiers do their work,’ was his grumbled reply. ‘They are keen to display their genius and their task is almost done.’
‘Release!’ one of Daneel’s men called once the knots were firm.
‘Let go anchor!’ Captain Merryweather called in response, standing upon the ship.
Leopold was still trying to figure out how they were going to open the barrier, when the Farstride’s far anchor pounded into the river. As the anchor descended, the slack in the ropes disappeared across the deck. They drew tight at the last instant and with a deafening clang, one side of the cylindrical mesh in front of them was pulled out of place, cracking it from its housing. Any more slack in the rope and it would have achieved nothing, any more and the barrier would have come flying out into their faces. It had all been closely measured and calculated with marvellous precision.
‘Good job,’ Daneel said, patting his man on the back. He was first to slip through the crack.
‘Won’t they hear all that ruckus?’ Leopold asked.
‘Let them look over their walls,’ Daneel replied. ‘All they will see is the river. No one has noticed us until this point and I trust the old goat’s magic will keep it that way.’
A grunt issued from Salu, but looking towards him, it seemed coincidental rather than caused by any lack of civility on Daneel’s part.
The soldiers squeezed through next—only just fitting through with their leather chestplates on—followed by the lithe Koian women and Leopold, with Salu and Toby coming through last.
Once through, the old man examined the warped bars, exploring their surfaces with his hands. He grasped one firmly and stroked it within his palm, eyes closed, immersed in the sensations upon his skin. With a sudden wrenching movement he twisted the whole bar free, letting a reverberating clamour echo down the tunnel.
The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) Page 36
