Orbelon's World (Book 3)

by Martin Ash

  'I?'

  The old woman nodded. 'You allowed the Vileborn to live, secreted him where he might not be found, told no one the terrible secret of his birth. Is that not so?'

  Issul held her gaze but said nothing.

  'And later you realized the awful truth, and sought him out - to do what? Would you have killed him? No matter, you lost him, as did I once again. He’s free now, dwelling in the wild, preparing his way. He knows something of what he is, and that he is sought by those who would end his life and others who will follow him and do his bidding. He knows he can command great powers. And he’s of Enchantment, at least in part, and so he must war. And others must war with him. So it unfolds.'

  'And I have a part in this?'

  'If you will save your kingdom, and your husband and children.'

  Issul drew in a sharp breath. Arene nodded, half-smiling to herself. 'Yes, I see that it is true. They’re gone, are they not?'

  'How do you know of this?'

  'Its potential was manifest in the Well, as were others. Now that you have confirmed this particular strand, I can instruct you if you so wish. Of course, I can guarantee you nothing. We are limited when it comes to accurately predicting events which have yet to come to be. We see only possibilities within the uncertain flux. We see myriad paths, yet myriad more exist. So I can’t say that my guidance will bring you what you desire, only that your failure to heed it will certainly bring you what you do not. Now tell me, have you yet found the way to Enchantment?'

  Issul stared at her, speechless for some moments.

  'Speak, child!' demanded Arene.

  'There-- there is an opening, yes.'

  'Good. That is one less task, then. So, what else? Another world, yes? A world that was a prison, is still a prison; a world that is a god? Tell me, for these things are vague.'

  'Yes, what you are saying makes sense to me.'

  'Then heed the god. You have no choice.'

  'And leave Enchantment's Reach to my enemies?'

  'You have many perils ahead of you, that is the one absolute certainty. All of this could have been avoided had I slain the Vileborn, or indeed had you slain him at birth - for that was one other potential that was revealed by the Well. Such a path lies ahead of you, Issul, and I would not be you for anything. But if you do not take it you face the certain knowledge of defeat, total and irreversible. That much the Unfolding revealed without ambiguity.'

  Issul's heart had swollen, preventing words. In her mind's eye an image of her children formed. Alone in an alien world, they cried out for her. She heard their frightened voices. A sob escaped her lips; she turned her head away.

  'Oh, child, I know your anguish and I do not wish you harm,' said Arene softly. 'If there were a means of avoiding this, I would choose it. But there is none. I am sorry.'

  Issul rose, holding herself stiffly. 'We will speak again later,' she said, her voice betraying her. 'In the meantime I will have you moved to somewhere less oppressive.'

  She departed quickly, and outside took a moment to recover her thoughts. From the end of the passage Shenwolf strode towards her. In the fingers of her right hand she still clasped the little ivory carving. Again she looked at it, wondering, then dropped it back into its pouch and slipped it inside her sash.

  'I’m sorry, I was delayed,' said Shenwolf, arriving at her side. He was garbed in the crimson-and-blue livery of the elite Palace Guard, the bar of rank at his throat. 'Moving from my former barracks. The messenger took time to find me. What’s happened? Are you distraught?'

  She shook her head, her voice still faltering. 'Nothing.' She turned back to regard the door of Arene's cell. 'I had . . . there is a woman in there. I thought perhaps to have you join me when I interviewed her. It is no matter. I’ll see her again.

  She passed instructions to the captain of the guard for Arene's removal to a more comfortable chamber, and moved on, absorbed in a thousand agonies.

  IV

  'Orbelon.' Issul stood alone in her chamber, staring at the blue casket, her face a mask.

  'Orbelon.'

  She turned at a penumbral movement to her side, and saw him at the edge of the room, half-shadow, the wall behind him visible through his form.

  'Child?'

  'I have come to a new decision.'

  'You have?'

  'I’m given no choice. We will go, Orbelon. To Enchantment. We must go.'

  THREE

  I

  'I'm hungry. Daddy, I'm hungry!' Little Jace, fractious now and beyond comforting, beat her father's shoulder with one small fist, clinging to him with the other. Galry, mercifully, was asleep on Leth's other shoulder.

  Leth, too, was not impervious to the gnawing hunger in his belly. He walked on, carrying both children for some time now, weary and with a growing sense of futility. His anger mounted. He raged inwardly at Orbelon for having abandoned him here, at the ceaseless blue world, at his own hunger - all of these things, which he had no power to remedy. And he feared, as he waded on, clinging to his two children, he feared the path along which hunger might draw him, for a famished man is a creature stripped of moral-conscience and humanity, capable of anything. Leth forcefully thrust his thoughts elsewhere.

  Nothing had changed, except. . . just once or twice, Leth was not clear in his mind but he thought he had glimpsed, or just sensed. . . something. He couldn't say what. It might have been hallucination, but he thought he had perceived a movement, the inkling of disturbance in the air, a briefest flicker, just ahead of him and off to one side. He had turned towards it, glimpsed, or sensed, it again. Something ghostly had brushed against him, just whispering past his ear.

  He had almost dismissed it, then Galry had said, 'What's that?'

  Galry had pointed, but there was nothing to be seen, and his young brow had furrowed in puzzlement.

  'What?' Leth had asked. 'What did you see?'

  Prince Galry shook his head. 'I thought something was there.'

  Now it happened again, as Galry slept and Jace demanded food. Jace grasped the flesh of Leth's neck between fingers and thumb and pinched with all her strength. 'I'm hungry!'. Fighting his temper, Leth took her hand away. 'I know, I know. Soon. We’ll eat soon.'

  A cool breath passed across Leth's face. Briefly, hardly perceived, yet it was sufficient change in this changeless place to arouse his senses. In the same moment the air a little way in front of him seemed to flux. He had the impression that an unseen wing or wings had stirred.

  Leth screwed up his eyes, peering intently. 'Is there something there? Come forward and speak.'

  Nothing happened. Fearful of alarming his children, Leth said nothing more. He passed the tip of his tongue across his dry lips. His throat was parched; he had grown hoarse from his earlier shouting for Orbelon. Jace whimpered and he stroked her hair, pressing her to him and kissing her head.

  'I want to go home now. Daddy, why can't we go home?'

  Leth ceased walking. He shook his head in despair. The cessation of movement roused Galry from his sleep. He peered around him, bleary-eyed. When he saw the emptiness before him again a look of desolation appeared on the boy's wan features. He turned to his father with an expression of pained reproach which cut Leth to the core, then he buried his face in the crook of Leth's neck and clung to him.

  Leth stood, breathing hard. He turned around, wanting something to blame, something palpable to rage at. He lifted his face to the great vault so high above, then back to the misted blue and the endless wall. And then he saw it.

  His heart thumped. He squinted into the distance. Again he was not certain that he had actually seen anything. An obscure shape had seemed to materialize in the mist. A darkening - was it? - then a glint, a glimmer, something flickering brightly just for an instant, then gone, and the dark again.

  He watched for several seconds, his pulse quickening. The thing appeared to be fixed in place. It was definitely something, a feature, unidentified, which for the first time broke the mind-numbing monotony of th
e blue domain. Leth took a few steps towards it, wary, casting his eyes around, then focusing back on the thing ahead. Jace had seen it too. Her complaints ceased, turned to small sobs and sniffs as she stared at the curious manifestation.

  'What's that?'

  Her enquiry roused Galry, who turned and craned his neck.

  Leth shook his head. 'I don’t know.'

  He could make out a little more detail now. It had the form of an arch, featureless but of a much darker hue than its surroundings. And every few moments its silhouette became outlined in light, just for an instant throwing out slender shards of luminescence, argent and sapphire blue, purest white and shades of pale yellow through to amber. They glimmered through the mist, then rapidly faded to leave only the darker form, then glimmered again.

  Leth stared for long moments then, suddenly, gasped. He blinked, stared again, past the glimmering arch.

  'The wall, Daddy!' Galry had also torn his eyes from the arch and was staring upwards, pointing.

  Leth was without words. The great encircling wall which had never been closer, never further away, had changed. Without being aware of it, his attention fixed upon the glimmering arch, he had failed to notice that the wall was no longer retreating with every step he took. Suddenly it was looming close, suddenly there before them, towering high, its surface smooth in appearance and unreflecting. And the arch stood at its base, appeared to be - and Leth's hopes soared - appeared to be a portal of some description set within the wall itself!

  He set the two children down and took their hands, feeling ever more vulnerable without a sword or weapon of any kind. He moved towards the portal, still wary, and at length stood directly before it. The portal, if that was what it was, seemed to be formed of something extremely dense, featureless as the great wall, of deep indigo colouring. But the glimmering light, pulsing on and off, sending out sharp lucent beams from around the edges of the portal, appeared to originate on the portal's other side. From beyond the wall.

  Leth released Prince Galry's hand and extended his own to touch the portal. His fingers made no contact. They sank into the blue, vanishing.

  'Dadda!' Galry clung fearfully to his leg. Leth withdrew his hand. He stroked Galry's head.

  'Don't be afraid, child. I’m here. I am always here.'

  He felt little of the confidence he wanted to instil. He moved aside and pressed his hand to the wall. It was utterly smooth and quite cool to the touch, diorite-hard, though he could not precisely identify the substance of which it was made. He moved back to the portal, pushed his face close. To his surprise he saw people on the other side. Blurred figures - he thought they were human. They appeared to be crowded in some number just a little way beyond the portal. He could not make out their faces or any detail other than their dim forms. The glimmering light pulsed, just for an instant, and dazzled him.

  Leth drew back, thoughtful. He turned, stared again into the hopeless blue void over which they had travelled. He cast his eyes over the wall, which extended still without perceivable end to either side of him, curving slightly inwards in the distance. He looked up again at the great vault, and back to the mysterious portal. Then he gripped his childrens' hands, took a breath, and stepped through.

  *

  The people on the other side drew back with a collective gasp. There were perhaps eighteen or twenty of them, women and men of varying ages, three or four children. They were white-skinned, brown-haired, clothed in garments of linen and cloth that were generally unadorned and functional rather than ostentatious. They carried no visible weapons but stood in a wide semicircle before Leth and his children, their hands linked. Leth had the impression that they had been rocking slowly from side-to-side. He thought he had heard a low, rhythmic chanting, though they were silent now, all staring at him and his two children, apprehensive, their faces reflecting acute astonishment.

  At the centre of the semicircle of chanters, between them and Leth, was a man, kneeling. His head was bowed. In contrast to the others he was garbed in a long flowing robe of carmen hued silk-like material, richly embroided in gold with complex geometrical designs. He was spare of build and his hair was a dense grey cloud that billowed in unruly tufts about a narrow head. His hands were raised before him, palms upwards, and upon them rested a sword in a fabulously jewelled scabbard.

  At the sudden gasp from his companions the man glanced up. His eyes fell upon Leth, and widened, his jaw falling agape. Leth looked from him to the other people, to their surroundings. They stood in an open, rocky place. The sun's orb was pale in a brittle blue sky, a cool breeze touched Leth's cheeks. There were scrubby trees and bushes a short distance away, and beyond them low bare hills.

  The kneeling man was struggling for words. 'Y-you-- you have come!'

  He climbed to his feet, still bearing the sword, still gaping at Leth. Then he turned to cry back over his shoulder, 'He has come! See! At last! At last! It was as I said!'

  The others seemed struck dumb. They clung to one another’s hands, their eyes round and fearful. The man with the sword came towards Leth, proffering the weapon. 'Take it, Lord. We have not forgotten our covenant. We have held it for you all this time.'

  Leth frowned in puzzlement, surveyed the sword, then the man, then the others. 'I don’t understand. What is this? Where is this place?'

  'Please, my Lord. The Sword of the Orb. It is yours. From before.'

  He almost pressed the weapon to Leth's chest.

  'The Sword of the Orb?' Leth's frown deepened. Releasing his children’s hands he grasped the sword by hilt and scabbard. There came a hushed murmur from the assembled. The man in the robe smiled, then bent from the waist in an attitude of obeisance. 'Now, now we will be saved! You have returned. Go forth, oh Great Lord. Strike down our tormentress! Let her bestride this land no more!'

  He backed away, his head bowed, then edged to one side and picked up a cloth bundle from the ground. This he laid upon the earth before Leth. 'This, too, is for you. We know how great your ordeal has been, Lord. This will give you strength.'

  He retreated again. Leth glanced at the bundle on the ground, then passed his eyes over the sword-hilt and scabbard. Both were of exceedingly fine workmanship, set with glittering gems and figured with precious metals, their value incalculable. He grasped the hilt-grip firmly in his right hand and drew forth the blade. There came another gasp; all those before him drew back further. Then, almost as one, they turned and scattered. Only the robed man remained.

  Leth stared after them but briefly as they fled, for his attention was on the sword's blade. It was metallic, though the metal he could not identify, for it was of a fiery roseate hue and it gave forth a bright halo of rose light.

  The robed man blinked and heaved a great sigh. He clasped his hands before him, moist-eyed and smiling. 'It is as it should be. The Sword is at last returned to its rightful master.'

  'The Sword of the Orb?' queried Leth.

  'No other has seen the blade, for no other could draw it free. Lord, I have devoted my life to this, and at last I am rewarded.' He gazed adoringly at the roseate blade, then at Leth. 'At last! At last!'

  The robed man backed away.

  Leth shook his head in perplexity. 'I don’t understand what is happening here. I fear this is a mistake.'

  The robed man backed further away, bowing his head. Then, quickly, he turned and walked off.

  'Wait!' Leth called. 'Stop! I command you! Stop!'

  But his words were not heeded, and quite suddenly there was no one to be seen. Muttering to himself he sheathed the blade and strapped it around his waist. 'Curious. Still, I’m no longer naked, but I would give much to know where we are and exactly who or what these people believe me to be.'

  He crouched and undid the outer wrapping of the cloth bundle the robed man had left. Inside he found hard yellow cheese, a haunch of cured meat, some dried fruit, bread, a leather flask and a knife.

  'Aah, we can staunch our hunger at last.' He reached back for his childrens' hand
s. 'Come, my brave little ones. Let's eat now, then we will be better set to seek out these strange nervous folk and learn more about them and their land.'

  Neither Galry nor Jace took his hand. He swivelled, suddenly conscious of their silence these past few moments. The children were nowhere in sight. Leth sprang to his feet, a cold hammer of fear almost paralyzing him. 'Jace! Galry!'

  They were nowhere to be seen. Leth looked back to the portal through which they had stepped. To his shock there was nothing before him but a sheer cliff face. A symbol or rune, consisting of two spheres divided by a single, angled shaft, had been chiselled into the rock and coloured deep carmine.

  With an anguished cry Leth threw himself at the rock and rune, but it did not give. There was no indication of the portal through which he had stepped. He beat at the rock with his fists, threw his entire weight against it, but it did not give.

  Leth turned around with an agonized roar. 'Galry! Jace!'

  Some kind of bird cried harshly high in the sky. There was no other indication of life. Leth stood alone.

  II

  Leth ate sparingly of the food, his hunger largely banished by the turmoil and shock of the sudden loss of his children. He knew he must eat, but his mouth was dry and he could barely chew or swallow. He drank from the flask, which contained sweet water laced with a subtle hint of fruit and spice.

  Again and again Leth turned back to the rune on the cliff face. Solid and impenetrable now, he knew that this was the portal through which he and the children had come. And the children had stepped through with him. Their little hands had been in his, he recalled this much with total clarity. Though he had been too stunned at the time to speak to them, or even to glance down and confirm their presence, he knew that they had been there. He had felt them. It was only when he had taken the roseate sword that he had released them.