Orbelon's World (Book 3)
Page 12
She shook her head. 'No one has succeeded in walking the length of the beach. There is something. . . . We don’t know what. It robs people of their minds.' She met his eyes, and forestalled his protest. 'But not you, Swordbearer. Not you.'
'How do you know this?'
Her face was filled with sorrow. 'We believe.'
VI
They made their way back up the long dark steps. The huge form of the Bridgekeeper was slumped near the entrance. He was sleeping, his back propped against the stone wall of the tunnel, his legs stretched across its maw. He snored loudly, almost as loudly as he had laughed during their descent. They slipped by him, squeezing past his enormous feet, and crossed the bridge to where their horses waited.
The journey back to the place of the haunted walls, which Lakewander and her people called Orbia, passed without incident. Leth and Lakewander sped across the Plain of Imprisoned Souls, neither pausing nor turning their heads to look at the terrible figures. No Soul cried out to them, or if they did they did not hear. In the wood they came upon the Sufferer at the wayside. He was in approximately the same place as before, and this time they did not stop. Nor did they pause to rest or eat again.
As dusk began to close in they approached Orbia. Leth turned in his saddle to look back at the two celestial bodies. The Orb of the Godworld was low above the hills, and more clearly defined in the fading light than it had been in the brightness of morning. It blazed brilliant blue-white, like a fabulous gem, cooler than in its daylight phase. It appeared to have moved only slightly since the morning. Certainly it did not seem to rise and set as did the sun over Enchantment's Reach, and Leth could not determine if it followed a regular, set path across the sky.
In contrast to the Orb of the Godworld, the World's Agony shone more brightly with the decreasing light. As he watched it Leth felt again the sudden anguish that he had experienced when he first laid eyes on it from the observatory the previous night. He turned back, remembering his intention to view Orbia's exterior as he drew close, but once again he was foiled, for it was invisible behind the trees, and then, quite suddenly, they were beneath the trees and within its walls.
At Lakewander's insistence they went directly to Master Protector's chamber, where the old man awaited them, Summoner at his side. Master Protector seemed in good spirits, greeting them with raised arms and a broad smile. 'You have seen everything, Lord Swordbearer?'
Leth nodded soberly. 'Enough. And more.'
'And do you understand now and accept what must be done? There is no other can do this, only the Swordbearer armed with the Sword of the Orb.'
'I’ve not seen evidence of that.'
'Then will you take our word?'
Leth looked at Lakewander. Her eyes were upon him, grey and still. She was pale, tense, plainly fatigued from the journey and the experiences they had shared, as too was he. But he saw the hope in her eyes, and he remembered her tears. He swallowed, and nodded. 'There is no question that I will go wherever my children are, and do whatever must be done to return them to their home. And if, in the process, I can help you, I will.'
Master Protector brought his hands together and sat back, beaming. 'We are so grateful that you came, Swordbearer. So, so glad. You cannot know.'
'You lay so much store by me. I wish I could share your certainty.'
'Nothing is certain, Lord. But until yesterday we hardly even had hope.'
'Still, you are sure enough to allow me to stride the Shore of Nothing where, I am told, men are routinely driven to madness.'
'But not gods!' Master Protector's eyes glittered. 'Believe me, many perils lie before you, and no one can accurately foresee how you will fare. But you are the Swordbearer. You have come, and you carry the Sword, and we believe in you!'
Leth was tired. He saw no point in arguing his case further. He felt that, whatever his own wishes, he was being driven by forces he could barely comprehend, and certainly could not command. His one desire was to find Galry and Jace and return with them to Enchantment's Reach. Nothing else mattered.
So he held his protests and made ready to excuse himself and retire. But Summoner was whispering into Master Protector's ear, and the old man nodded with an inward look, then addressed Leth once again. 'There is another matter, which good Summoner has just recalled to my attention.' He cleared his throat, seemed a little uncomfortable. He took a deep, wheezing breath. 'This is, er, delicate. I hope you will not consider it an affront, Swordbearer, but I would be remiss in my duties if I were to fail to mention it.' He coughed slightly into his frail hand. 'Last night you declined to lie with Lakewander. We wonder, do you find fault with her?'
Leth was initially at a loss for an appropriate response. He hesitated, allowing his mind to settle. Such a direct, personal interrogation was an affront, but to respond as an outraged monarch - or deity incarnate - seemed unlikely to serve him well.
'Not at all,' he said, as evenly as he could. 'I explained as much to Lakewander. In my own land there is a woman who I cherish. She is the mother of my children. I love her dearly and absolutely. I will not betray our love.'
Master Protector seemed to breathe with some difficulty. 'Then will you not lie with Lakewander if she comes to you tonight?'
'Have I not made myself plain? In just a short time I have come to admire and respect and feel affection for Lakewander. She is a remarkable, courageous young woman, and I’m far from unconscious of her feminine charms.' He turned and bowed his head to Lakewander, who stood at the end of the table, her eyes lowered. 'But I hope truly that she won’t be hurt or offended when I say that I will not lie with her, or with any woman other than the woman I love.'
Master Protector nodded to himself, his brow furrowed, lips puckered in shrewd reflection. 'This is unexpected, I will say, and it presents us with a problem we had not foreseen.'
'How so?'
'Swordbearer, tomorrow you must leave us. We can’t delay your journey. You must seek out and slay the Kancanitrix. This is beyond further question. Yet, if you are to leave us and will not lie with Lakewander, or indeed with any other woman we may send to you, how are we to have your child?'
'My child?'
'Your offspring, Lord. You must leave us something of yourself. When you depart the Orb we do not want to be left alone and helpless again.'
Leth was stunned, and for some moments once again lost for words. Master Protector began to cough. He doubled over, wheezing and gasping. Summoner rubbed his back and held the spittoon at the ready. When the old man recovered he leaned back, his eyes closed, pale lashes and cheeks wet. Breathing heavily, his mouth hanging open, he said finally, 'She must accompany you.'
Lakewander gasped and stared at him. Summoner dropped his gaze to the tabletop.
'Child, it is the only way,' the old man said.
Leth sensed that Master Protector was close to weeping. He felt himself in a turmoil of emotion. 'It will do no good. I'm sorry, but I will not change my mind.'
Master Protector was looking searchingly at Lakewander. 'Will you go, Child? Will you accompany the Swordbearer, knowing all that we know?'
Lakewander, clearly torn, gripped her upper lip between her teeth, then nodded. 'Of course, Father.'
Father! Leth looked from one to the other, and knew the pain of them both. Yet it could make no difference. He would not go back on his word. He would not betray Issul, even if she were-- He stopped himself. I don’t know that! She is alive! Issul, Issul! Be alive! Be alive!
'You should retire now and rest, Lord,' Master Protector was saying. 'Your journey must commence at the rise of the Orb.'
FIVE
I
'Something has happened!' Issul froze suddenly, clutching her hands to her breastbone. 'My children! Something has happened to my children!'
She stared about her, stricken, seeing none of the faces surrounding her. She knew it as certainly as if Jace and Galry had been in the same room. She had heard them cry out; she knew their distress.
Sho
uldering through the others, pushing past Shenwolf, she made off hurriedly up the passage, then broke into a run.
'My lady!'
'Majesty!'
Issul heard no one. She rushed on through the Palace of Orbia's fabulous, airy corridors, ignoring palace staff, courtiers, sentries, everyone she passed, until she came at last to her own apartments. She entered her bedchamber, breathless, and bolted the door behind her. 'Orbelon! I must speak with you! Orbelon!'
The ragged god, at first an unperceived shape, shuffled forward from the shadows of a corner of the room and placed himself before her, the muted blue aura that surrounded him lit with pale coruscations.'I’m here.'
'Something has happened to my children!' Issul cried. 'I feel it. I know it. They’re in danger. Orbelon, can you feel it? What has happened to them?'
Orbelon heaved a deep sigh, nodding his great rag-swathed head heavily back and forth in some kind of acknowledgement. 'I have been feeling. . . oh, there is such conflict within me. Like I have never known. It preys upon me, yet I am blind within and can’t identify its source. All is a dense and dark, jungled shroud.'
'But my children, Orbelon! And Leth! Have they been harmed? Are they alive?'
Orbelon's voice was like a parched rush of distant wind across the mouth of a faraway tunnel. 'I have already told you I can’t be that precise. I’m sorry.'
'You feel nothing?'
'Nothing? Do you mock? I feel too much. Too much!' Pushing his staff aside, Orbelon raised his hands to the sides of his bound head, rocking and turning slowly from side to side, his robes swishing upon the floor. 'I’m aware of change - the beginnings of change. And of turmoil. I haven’t had this clarity before. Perhaps that’s a positive sign; I try to see it as such, though it pains me. But these things, they come so close on the heels of Leth's entry with your children into my world. I don’t think it’s coincidence. But. . . it is so difficult. Oh Leth, Leth, why did you enter my world unbidden?'
'They think I’ve abandoned them,' said Issul, her voice breaking. Leth! Leth! Keep them safe!
Orbelon had lowered his hands and grasped his staff again. From within the mass of rags he seemed to be observing her. He stood for some moments, then asked, 'Queen Issul, how is it that you are so certain of these things?'
'It is a woman's instinct, a mother's union with the children that have grown within her womb. I know it, that’s all. They cried out for me.'
'Do you feel it still?'
'I’m not sure. I think so, yes.'
'Then at least you know they are alive.'
Issul put her fingers to her brow and turned away. She did not feel so sure, not of anything. Except. . . they had cried for her and she had not been there to help them.
'Child, do not torture yourself so.'
'They need me.'
'And you are doing all within your power to find them.'
'I went away. I left them here. I should never have done that. No true mother would have done that.'
'You’ve already made it plain that you had no choice.'
'I had a choice. I could have told Leth what I knew about the Legendary Child. If I’d only spoken up when Moscul was born.'
'Issul, child, you are destroying yourself with these thoughts. You did what you thought was right at the time.'
'It wasn’t enough!'
Orbelon moved away. He came to a halt beside the window, took a moment to consider, then turned and faced her. His next words came as a shock. 'Issul, have I misjudged you?'
Issul looked up sharply. 'What-- what do you mean?'
He spoke in severe tones. 'I thought you up to this task. I believed you possessed the will, the courage, the resolve to see this through. Yet you bring me only your fears and laments. You are pathetic, threatening to collapse before we’ve even begun. Are you truly to bear me? I hadn’t foreseen that you would be prone to such indulgence. You make me feel that all is lost.'
It came, as he had plainly intended, like a hard slap on the cheek. Issul straightened - she had unwittingly slumped forward, folding in upon herself and clutching her middle. Ashamed, and angry at herself, she gulped several breaths, her cheeks burning. 'I’m sorry.'
'Don't be sorry! I want no more of 'sorry'! I want to know whether you are able and committed - to the possibility of life, or the certainty of surrender and death. We go to Enchantment to seek out the Orb's Soul, but I will not allow myself to be borne by a ditherer or a faintheart.'
Issul winced. 'You need have no fear of that.'
'Then enough of this. Tell me of our plans. When do we leave Enchantment's Reach?'
'In the morning.'
'Why not today?'
'I know there is little time, Orbelon, but I cannot simply take a horse and ride away. I have to prepare. And we can’t go alone.'
Orbelon stiffened - if a ghost can be said to stiffen. 'Who else do you intend to accompany us?'
'The place where the Farplace Opening is hidden was a secret Karai camp. We destroyed it, but by now Anzejarl will be aware at the very least that all is not well there. He will almost certainly have despatched a force to secure it. Hence I will take fifty mounted soldiers. Ideally I would have more, with a catapult or two, but I dare not deplete the garrison here.'
'Will these soldiers know of me?'
'No. But listen, I must take steps to ensure, as far as I can, that Enchantment's Reach does not fall to enemies within its own walls the moment my back is turned.'
'You refer to the Lord High Invigilate.'
'Fectur, yes. Predominantly. Orbelon, this is important. There are others I must speak to about you. Men I trust. One already knows of the casket, though not what it is. Leth trusted him with that information, and he served us well, as Leth knew he would. Without him I would not have found the casket, or you.'
'And who else?'
'One who rescued me from certain death and saw me safely back to Enchantment's Reach. He is unusually skilled and will accompany us, at least as far as the Farplace Opening, perhaps even into Enchantment itself.'
Orbelon bowed his head, considering her words. 'Child, you know how vulnerable I am.'
'Yes, and I want to be certain that, should I perish, there will be one other at least who will take the casket, knowing fully what it will mean to lose it.'
'You are sure of these men?'
'As sure-- more sure than I am of myself.'
He nodded his head gravely. 'Then you should bring them here.'
Issul hesitated. There was more she wished to say, more ideas and ghosts of ideas circulating in her mind. But now was perhaps not the time. 'I have convened an Emergency Assembly which I must attend in less than an hour. I will inform the government then of my intention to depart.'
'You’ll face opposition, will you not?'
'From some quarters, and for differing reasons. Fectur, and those who support him, will be unlikely to oppose me, for there is nothing he desires more than my absence, except of course my death. But it is going to be very hard. Orbelon, I must leave you now. There is someone I must speak to, and preparations I must make. I’ll return later, and bring the two of whom I spoke.'
She turned and departed, and Orbelon stood for a long time watching the door, deep in contemplation.
II
The Assembly was, as Issul had anticipated, a difficult affair, but when it was over and she walked from the Hall of Wise Counsel, the subdued murmurs of her members of government behind her, it was with a sense of triumph. Fectur remained in the Hall, silently gnashing his teeth, and no doubt formulating in his mind the first dark and certain steps along a path to total revenge. Issul had out-guiled him. The memory of his face when he realized the manner in which he had been led was something she would long cherish. She glanced aside at Pader Luminis who had accompanied her from the Hall. The little Murinean's eyes met hers; his lips quivered and his eyes shone. Simultaneously they both broke into wide grins. They walked together with light steps and heads held high, quietly and joyfully c
elebrating their shared achievement, and for the present putting from their minds any thoughts of Fectur's inevitable response.
Fectur had been effective in broadcasting notice of this latest in a series of unscheduled meetings. As many awaited Issul as when, at midnight the previous night, following her return to Enchantment's Reach, she had called all ministers, knights, grandees, notables and faction heads together to declare herself sovereign during King Leth's 'incapacitation', and to relieve Lord Fectur of his self-appointed Regentship. Leth had convened other emergency assemblies in recent days, she knew. She anticipated apathy and weary cynicism, half-expected to find many seats unoccupied. Yet they were there in virtually full number, and she sensed their expectation.
Issul had wasted no time in stating the purpose of the assembly. Firstly she announced the death of her brother-in-law, King Leth's cousin, Duke Hugo of Giswel. Some were already informed; most were not.
'This is a most painful tragedy on both a personal and national level,' Issul said, when the first cries of shock and sorrow had died down. 'The full consequences have still to make themselves known. Most immediately, though, there is a lesson to be learned. Duke Hugo was a great and beloved warrior and leader, yet in the end he was foolhardy. Yes, foolhardy! I do not say it lightly, nor is my love and respect for him diminished. But in his eagerness to lock horns with the foe he made two fundamental errors, for which he has paid the ultimate price. He acted in direct contravention of King Leth's orders. Note that. My husband, the King, is wise to the guiles of the Karai, and gave specific orders. Had Hugo heeded them he and his valiant soldiers would be alive today. But he thought he saw a weakness in the Karai ranks, an opportunity. And therein lay his second mistake: he underestimated his enemy. Instead of opportunity he found a deadly trap set by Prince Anzejarl.'
Issul paused, only now coming to a full awareness of the anger she felt at Hugo's impetuousness and the needless losses it had brought. She took a deep breath. 'Now we are informed that the Karai army marches directly against Enchantment's Reach itself.'