The Sun King and the Sorceress (The Legend of Graymyrh Book 3)

by E. V. Greig

  Nala sighed. “I only came back to buy some salt! Still, it could be interesting, I suppose. I will come along to see the desert.”

  She knew that very few if any would have given pause to consider that in truth, the real power in Ullensia rested with the women. They were the keepers of tradition and knowledge. The shamans were female – warrior priestesses of Ullen who could call forth lightning and gales to lay waste to their enemies. The rights of grazing too were inherited along the maternal line. And whilst it was true that most of the warriors were men, a full quarter of the women rode to battle with spear and bow. These last were the Ul’Asyth: the Brides of Ullen – untouchable maidens forsworn to any mortal suitor.

  Had Kaiwan trusted her kin and remained with the shamans, then her future would have been set amongst these warrior queens. Such was the birthright of any Ullensian woman who chose to accept it. Alas, the young caster had been too fearful to risk her fate, and so it could never be anything other than exile. In flight, she had failed the real test put to her by the shamans, and was now without any hope of their protection. This was simply the way of it: no quarter could be spared to one that would abandon the clans. It was not permissible to inform Kaiwan of her folly, but that did not mean that the ulnyr would abandon her utterly.

  Bandhir chuckled. “Ha! We are all to be companions again then!”

  Kaiwan smiled and allowed Saylii to draw her into a reckless dance. “Very well: we shall go to Ixran together!”

  ∞∞∞

  Gilvaneous felt his eldest son’s terror. “So – I now have only one heir left. What a shame. Doubtless Isyl Kolbez shall be disappointed that he never succeeded in arranging for Slo’annathorys to return home and be reconciled with me. Perhaps I will ease his conscience with a gift. I could always send young Althanor to him as a servant. Half bred or not, he is my kin and cannot be left with the humans!”

  Frelth merely listened to his master as he pondered aloud. The feranth had no language: Gilvaneous had stripped such things away from his mind when he finally conquered the barbarian king and his people. Frelth still dreamt of them sometimes, on the few occasions that he was permitted to rest. They were faint echoes upon the edges of his memory - his queen, their court, all of their brave people. None but Frelth had survived the sylvanthi conquest of their homeland, for sickness had travelled along with the invading army. It had not been military power that had triumphed, but disease.

  Queen Yllyeria had wept when she learnt of it. She was kind to Frelth, and he preferred her soft words to his master’s patronising voice. Still, the feranth was smart enough not to show his true feelings. Gilvaneous was swift to anger, and little could stop him when he chose to act. So Frelth was careful never to reveal how the sad queen came to him from her husband’s bed in the dark of the night and shared his furs.

  “What is this?” Gilvaneous was startled. “He still lives: how is this possible? Does my firstborn son simply not comprehend how to die?” He smiled as he sensed Slo’annathorys’ flight though the shadows. “Flee then, my son! Perhaps Isyl Kolbez shall yet manage to have his reconciliation!”

  Chapter Eight

  “Why are you called the Sun King?” Kaiwan tangled her fingers in Seranor’s long mane as they rode south over the grasslands.

  Bandhir thought back carefully. “It was long ago, on another world named Kaseden. I dwelt amongst the people of the desert there. Over time, they realised that I was immortal, and they came to worship me. They called me the Sun King, and built a great city to honour my name. It was named Quezzabec: the Palace of the Sun, and it was a place of wonder. I was at peace there for many centuries.”

  “Why did you leave?” Drithik hated mysteries.

  “There was a war. A great army arrived from across the seas: angry at the supposed blasphemy of my people. They thought that I was attempting to overthrow their Gods.”

  Nala frowned. “Were you?”

  “No: I am above such petty things as religion. But travellers had told stories of the riches of Quezzabec. The outlander priests were greedy. They lied to their soldiers and sent them to besiege the city.” Bandhir sighed at the memory. “For two whole years, that army camped outside our gates. Finally, our stores of food were depleted. There was no choice but to surrender.”

  Saylii, still riding behind Drithik, shook her head. “I don’t like this story, sir.”

  “It only gets worse. I shall let it lie where it is.” Bandhir fell silent once more.

  Kaiwan leant back closer to him. “Please tell us the rest, Efrym.”

  He smiled a little at her words. “No one has ever wanted to know the truth behind the legend of Quezzabec before, sorceress. Most are content with the common tales of gold and murder. But very well: I shall continue. As I said, we had to surrender. I met with the enemy generals myself to broker for the lives of my people. All that they cared about was treasure! Again, and again they demanded to know where it was. They would not accept that Quezzabec’s wealth was the oasis that supplied her people with water, and the generations of knowledge that the scholars who dwelt there had collected. They called me a liar and a daemon, and tortured me to the edge of death, before burying me alive.”

  The veth’kyr covered her ears. “Wicked, wicked men to do such things!”

  “I eventually recovered from my injuries and dug my way out of my own grave. The enemy were gone, and Quezzabec stood oddly silent before me in the dusk. I walked in through the open gates. My heart knew already what I would find: the charnel stench of death foretold it. The city had been sacked: there were no survivors, not even the animals had been spared. And my people...no, sorceress, do not ask me to tell you what had been done to them before and after they were butchered! It was a dark time indeed, but the worst came afterwards. Over the years, I learnt that the outlanders had blamed me for the sack of Quezzabec. I was painted in their tales as a monster: a tyrant who destroyed his own people when they attempted to overthrow him.”

  “Efrym, I have not the words...!” Kaiwan had buried her face in her hands at his tale. “I am sorry!”

  “It was not your doing, sorceress. We had our time, my people and I, and it was a glorious time. But all kingdoms must fall eventually. Such is the way of things.” He sighed at that. “I dwelt amongst the ruins for centuries: as the sands covered it all until only the oasis itself remained. The waters were imbued with the spirits of those that had perished: they granted eternal youth and vigour to any that drank them. I guarded them, for what else was left to me now?”

  Drithik was impatient to know the rest. “What made you stop guarding the water?”

  “I never did: I still carry the last of it with me; for the oasis was polluted by an oafish barbarian named Skegyl. The boor dived into it to bathe! Thankfully, I had drawn some of the water and stored it in a flask prior to his arrival, for I had been planning to visit a small village that was being plagued with fever. Skegyl interrupted my plan: he struck me down and claimed the oasis for himself. Apparently he and his companions had quested far to find it, yet he destroyed it within moments.”

  Nala snorted angrily at that. “What a fool! So what became of the village?”

  “By the time that I recovered, the fever had claimed every living soul. There was nothing I could do and so, I set out to get my revenge. It took me almost a decade to track him down, but eventually I caught up to Skegyl. I hired a powerful Isylth to trap him within the form of a dog and then I brought him back with me to his own home where I gave him to his fair wife as a gift. I could not bring myself to harm her: for she knew nothing of what her husband had done.”

  The veldaan chuckled. “Did she ever find out the truth about the dog?”

  “Not to my knowledge. She already believed that Skegyl had abandoned her anyhow.”

  Kaiwan sniffed. “Well, it sounds to me as if this Skegyl person got what he deserved! But how sad for his wife – I hope she found someone else.”

  “She did, sorceress, but that is a story for another
time!” Bandhir urged Seranor on into a slow canter, Nala following behind them.

  ∞∞∞

  Naikran had searched the entire trade meet for Kaiwan and her companions. They were gone, and no one knew to where. The clan chief was furious: he had intended to make certain that the woman was chosen so that he could have the glory attached to marrying her! For it was certain that she would not have refused him. Naikran was of the Rowan Tree clan, just as Kyshaa had been. He had cared little when she was sold to Davar of Ixran, but he had not known of her role as the mother of the Ca’Ryln then. I refuse to lose her daughter too! Such a powerful line of women is not to be wasted.

  Halun laughed at him from where he was crouched by the cooking fire. “Your outlander witch has fled then! Good: we can all concentrate on her brother, who is clearly the true Ca’Ryln.”

  “She is a sylth user who is not confined by the path of the shamans – she would have been a valuable tool. And her children will carry her power too, or had you not thought of that?”

  “I thought of it. I also think that the desert warrior wants her for himself, Naikran. You would do well to stay out of it.”

  “That woman will belong to me!” Naikran sprang up onto his herdmate: the bay stallion Celor. “If I must kill the outlander to have her, then so be it!” He cried out to his warriors and led off at a gallop across the steppes.

  ∞∞∞

  “It is a month’s travel to Ixran from here.” Nala ran her finger over the map. “If we go by this route: the way along the river, we shall be within the ulnyri territories. My people will aid us if we are bothered by the Ullensians.”

  Bandhir nodded slowly. “You expect them to give us trouble then?”

  “You have carried off one of their women, what do you think?” She snorted then. “How long will it be until you claim her as your own?”

  “I have made no such claim. It is hardly my fault if you three have drawn rash conclusions from our friendship.”

  “Ah, so you are only friends then? That is perhaps for the best. I should not like to see her hurt.”

  “And I should not like to hurt her. Most especially as I suspect that your hooves would be most painful to fall beneath.”

  Nala laughed at his candour. “You are likeable enough, for a human!” She thumped his shoulder and ambled off to check on Saylii and Drithik, who were busy attempting to lay a fire.

  Kaiwan had overheard their discussion. “Efrym, may I talk to you in private please?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her and then nodded: leading her over to where Seranor was grazing. “What is it, sorceress?”

  “When do you plan to return to Briersburge?”

  “In truth, I am not yet certain. Why do you ask?”

  “Lady Naomi is your wife. You should send word to her and explain your innocence. Tell her how you were framed!”

  “Kaiwan – what has brought this on?”

  She could not look at him when she answered. “I just think that you deserve to clear your name of whatever happened at Briersburge. You have been painted as a monster for too long, Efrym! You should not allow it to happen again.”

  “And if she refuses to believe me?”

  “Then I shall still be here, and at least you will know that you have tried.” The Ullensian turned and walked away from him.

  “Kaiwan!” Bandhir caught hold of her arm and gently drew her back to face him once again. “What are you saying to me?”

  “I have made up my mind, Efrym. I will not try to come between you and Lady Naomi, but if you do not return to her then I would not be averse to you being my first love. I am not so vain as to expect you to stay with me forever.”

  He stared into her eyes: stunned by her sudden proposition. “Kaiwan, I must think about this. Excuse me please.”

  Drithik frowned as he watched Bandhir stumble out of their encampment. “Has he been drinking?”

  Nala, whose ears were by far the keenest, stared open mouthed at the exchange that had just occurred, before she replied. “Ullen only knows what possessed her to say that to him!”

  “What did she say, Nala?” Drithik tugged at her hand. “Hey! What did you overhear?”

  “Kaiwan just asked Bandhir if he would be her first.”

  Saylii giggled as she realised what Nala meant. “Oh now that’s a feisty little mare and no mistake! Do you think he’ll say yes then?”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Drithik shook his head. “Lucky bastard – I’d not turn her down!”

  The two women stared at the veldaan: trying to think of how such a deed could even be accomplished. Nala gave in first. “I have to ask you, Drithik: how would you hope to mate with a human?”

  “She’s a sylth user – she could change both our sizes to match one another!”

  Nala groaned and tossed a length of kindling at him, whilst Saylii rolled about on the ground, laughing hysterically at the veldaan’s optimism.

  ∞∞∞

  It was late by the time that Bandhir returned. He nodded briefly to Nala and Saylii as he stepped over the snoring Drithik and made his way into the tent. Behind him, he heard the two women cackling into their hands. “Kaiwan? Are you still awake?”

  She sat up and nodded. “What is it, Efrym?”

  “I have decided not to go back to Briersburge, or to Naomi.” He drew in a slow breath and continued. “So now you must tell me, Kaiwan: is this really what you want?”

  “Yes it is.”

  Bandhir fastened the tent flaps tightly and joined her on the bedroll. Putting out the lantern to avoid providing their companions with a shadow show, he cupped Kaiwan’s face in his hands and kissed her tenderly. “Then let us begin.”

  ∞∞∞

  Slo’annathorys collapsed amongst the edge of the tall grasses that marked the border between Ixran and Ullensia. The sylvanth shivered and fought to catch his breath. He was once again unarmed, and what remained of his clothing hung in tatters. I must find Althanor – and the others too, of course.

  To judge by the stars, he was a month’s journey away from the pass through the mountains into Anyosia, and the entrance to the Vale of Ryln. Dragging himself to his feet, the swordmaster began to limp northwards.

  ∞∞∞

  Afterwards, Kaiwan curled into the warmth of Bandhir’s body. “I had been afraid that it would hurt. I am glad that it did not.”

  “I should hope that I have more skill than to cause you pain, Kaiwan.” He smiled and ran his hand along her spine. “We should go to the river in the morning to bathe and wash the blanket, although if we go now, the others will have less to gossip about.”

  She sighed and sat up: reaching for her robe. “You hope! They may hear us anyhow as we leave.”

  “Not if we tiptoe.” He draped his cloak about himself and Kaiwan, and undid the flap at the rear of the tent. “Come: the stars are clear enough to light our way.”

  They crept down to the river and made their ablutions. The water was cold: flowing as it did from the high mountains of the north. Kaiwan’s teeth chattered as she finished dressing. “This river is far colder than the one which flows through the Vale of Ryln!”

  “I trust that you will not catch a chill?” Bandhir fastened his belt and bent to draw on his boots.

  “I am not that fragile, Efrym.” She smiled at him.

  “Some people are. You would be surprised at what can fell a man, or a woman.”

  The spear tore through his chest and pinned him to the bank of the river. Kaiwan spun round and made to cast towards their assailant: lightning crackling about her wrists. A scarred fist slammed into her jaw and sent her reeling, senseless, to the ground.

  Naikran bent and lifted his prize. Slinging Kaiwan over his herdmate’s withers, he leapt back onto Celor and rejoined his warriors. “We ride back to the Rowan Tree lands immediately: I have a wedding to arrange!”

  ∞∞∞

  Nala was the first one to see Bandhir as he staggered back into their encampment. “What happened –
where did you find that spear?”

  “I pulled myself off it after I was impaled to the river bank. Whoever owns this spear attacked Kaiwan and I whilst we were bathing last night. They have taken her. I found hoof prints that led southwards: perhaps thirty riders! But they vanished after only a few paces.”

  The ulnyr examined the weapon. “This is an Ullensian weapon. The carvings suggest that it belongs to a member of the Rowan Tree clan. Their grazing lands are to the far south: along the border with Ixran. I suspect that they have travelled using mist sylth.”

  Bandhir snarled. “This is Naikran’s doing! I should have expected him to try and take her for himself!”

  “I’m not going to ask why the two of you were at the river alone last night.” Nala handed the spear back to him. “Get your belongings together, human. I will wake the others. We must hurry: I suspect that Naikran will not be prepared to take no for an answer!”