Mitchell Graham - [Fifth Ring 03] - The Ancient Legacy(V1.0)

by Mitchell Graham

  "No, no," Seth replied quickly. "You have my apolo­gies. It won't happen again."

  Marek dropped his eyes when Shakira turned to him. "Forgive me, your majesty, I meant no offense. The fervor of my faith sometimes carries me away."

  Shakira looked at Marek for several seconds and laughed quietly to herself. "Our numbers are far greater than theirs. The Orlocks are ready to move. Let us destroy their border defenses then move on Rocoi."

  Seth thought about it for a few seconds before making up his mind. "Fine .. . we'll move," he said. "But there is another matter that needs to be settled. The situation here in Oridan is far from stable. It would be insanity to attack Alor Satar with Delain at our back ... all of our backs. This is simply good military sense. Our people are having a hard enough time with them as it is."

  "I have never cared for the name Oridan," Shakira said. "It was the name of Karas Duren's father."

  After discussing their options for fifteen more minutes, they settled on a plan. The king called for a bottle of wine and poured each of them a glass. He wasn't certain if it was the right thing to do as far as an Orlock was con­cerned, but Shakira accepted it, keeping her eyes fixed on his. It was a disconcerting habit, which he ignored. He held the wine up to the light, examining its color.

  "After the country is ours and our friend's Church is established," he said, with a nod toward Marek, "I sup­pose we can find a more appropriate name. Alor Satar will be divided, as we have agreed, but I'm curious about something, Shakira. We have been referring to your land as the 'Orlock Territories.' Do you plan to leave it that way?"

  Shakira's smile was cold. "For the time being."

  * * *

  James sat on the veranda above the Tenley Palace gardens waiting for Gawl to arrive and resume their latest discus­sion. Below, workmen were busy putting back the statues Edward Guy had taken out. James had seen examples of Gawl's work before and he found them impressive. The subtlety and attention to detail were astonishing.

  Earlier, he, Quinn, and Ballenger had been given an im­promptu tour of the grounds by Gawl. It was pleasant to be with the other men, and for a while he managed to forget the mounting tensions that seemed to hang in the air, until they came to a pond and saw a sculpture of two nude women holding a pair of horses on tether. It was a beautiful piece that immediately caught his eye. He had started to ask about them, but stopped when Jeram Quinn shook his head. Gawl gradually slowed and stared at the statues with­out speaking, then excused himself and went back into the palace. As soon as they were alone, he and Ballenger turned to Quinn for an explanation. The constable told them that the woman on the left was the Lady Rowena.

  The king's sudden departure left James with the job of informing the others about Teanna's visit. He also told them how Gawl felt about it. As he surmised, both men were in favor of hearing what she had to say. Privately, he suspected that Gawl would come to the same point of view in time, but mistrust ran deep.

  James was still marshaling his arguments when Gawl entered the room. His friend was dressed in a pair of worn black breeches and a brown vest that was covered in mar­ble dust. His shirt was green with long sleeves. After they shook hands Gawl plopped down in a chair across from him and tossed a letter on the table. "What's this?" "Read it."

  James picked the letter up, looked at the writing for a moment, then reached into the pocket of his shirt, pulled out a pair of glasses and put them on. When he finished reading, he laid the letter facedown on the table.

  "It came about an hour ago," said Gawl.

  "This is serious. I hoped we would have more time. It appears Teanna may have been telling the truth."

  Gawl gave him a look. "If Delain is set to move against the Vargothans, he'll need .all the help he can get. They'll throw everything they have at him."

  "Yes," James said. "But there's something else going on here."

  "How so?"

  "It's all well and good that the Orlocks and Vargothans have turned on Alor Satar. Delain sees this as an opportu­nity for himself in spite of Shakira having one of the rings. He told us that much in his last letter. But the fact is, even if he could prevail against both the creatures and the Vargothans, he'll lose against her."

  James picked the letter up again and read it through one more time. "He says here that only a few hundred of the creatures were involved in the battle and that they fell back when his people attacked using the new cannons."

  "That doesn't make sense," said Gawl.

  James thought for a moment. "Don't you see? The Or-lock's retreat was a ruse to draw him in. From Delain's perspective, it appears that he's the beneficiary of a rift in the enemy camp. Vargoth has turned on Alor Satar—good. Better would be having them go at each other, with Var­goth fighting a war on two fronts. Seth is too experienced to let himself be caught in this kind of position."

  "So they need to take care of Delain first," said Gawl.

  "Exactly. Shakira's burning Anderon Palace was mean­ingless. A palace has no military value, only emotional."

  "Particularly to Delain," said Gawl, as he began to un­derstand what James was driving at.

  "Right. Delain responds by attacking, which is exactly what they wanted him to do. The Orlocks retreat, even though they could win. It's all for the purpose of getting him to follow with the bulk of his forces, and then ..." James slowly closed his fist.

  Gawl's face went pale and he leaned back in the chair. "He doesn't know how many creatures he's up against."

  "No," said James. "Cannons or no cannons, he won't stop a million Orlocks."

  "If we march, we can get there—"

  "Too late. It would take us at least a week. He says he's going to move in five days."

  "Goddammit," said Gawl, "there's got to be something we can do."

  "There is."

  The king's eyes fixed on him. "You want to form an al­liance with Teanna."

  "She's the only person who can get word to him in time. If he goes charging after Vargoth, the Orlocks will destroy him."

  "Do we tell her about Mathew?"

  James rubbed his temples with his fingertips and thought. "Let her prove herself first. If she succeeds in stopping Delain, we can deal with that question later."

  42

  New Raburn

  On their way to the convention hall Mathew told Father Thomas and the others what he and Collin had found. The priest listened carefully and thought it was best to leave the machine alone until they knew more about it. Privately, Mathew was inclined to agree, but he was frus­trated at being cooped up and wanted to do something. The whole thing put him in a sour mood.

  Using the colored tunnel markers, they found the hall with no difficulty. A number of long tables had been set out and people were just sitting down to eat. Garvin mo­tioned them over and introduced them to his wife, Leanne, and their children, two twin girls and a boy. The girls curtsied to Father Thomas, while Garvin's son, who was six and had the same red hair as his father, made a stiff little bow and promptly returned to his meal. Mathew snuck a glance at Lara and wondered if she was thinking of Bran.

  The dinner conversation centered mostly on the weather and other innocuous subjects. While they were eating, one of the twins, Mathew noticed, kept stealing surreptitious glances at him. The third time she did so, he responded by winking at her. Her color heightened by two shades and she stared down at her plate. Her sister leaned over and whispered something in her ear, which prompted a stern look from their mother.

  "It's not polite to stare at our guests," said Leanne.

  "I'm sorry," the girl mumbled.

  "It's all right," Mathew said. "New faces are always interesting."

  "Are you going to live here?" the girl asked. "No, we're on our way to a place called Nyngary. Do you know where that is?"

  "Mrn-hmm. My friend Gabriele comes from there." "I see. And you are ..."

  "Suzzette," she reminded him. "We're from Tyraine. Where do you live?"

  "Well, my friends a
nd I come from Devondale. It's about five hundred miles to the north of Tyraine."

  "Christa says she's seen you before," said Suzzette. "Were you ever in Tyraine?"

  "I was," Mathew answered, "but that was a long time ago."

  Garvin's wife put an end to the questioning by telling the girls to finish their meals and run along. "I'm sorry," she apologized. "We don't get a lot of new people here and children are always curious."

  The topic of conversation, at least between the women, shifted to the subject of children and child caring. When it appeared that it would stay there awhile, Mathew, Collin, and Father Thomas excused themselves to go for a stroll. Garvin managed to slip away unnoticed and joined them. Their presence didn't seem to be missed.

  A number of people were leaving the tables and drift­ing toward the front of the room where various mer­chants had their stands set up. As he walked, Mathew, however, continued to think about the odd machine in the Red Tower. It was strange that Harry had said there was no power in the building, and stranger still that no one in the city had discovered it was still functioning. More interesting to him was that the doors had opened when he approached them. None of the others reacted that way.

  Collin fell back to join him while Father Thomas and Garvin drifted ahead. After a minute of getting only perfunctory responses to his questions, his friend seemed to read his thoughts.

  "Get it out of your head, Mat," he said in a lowered voice. "If you try using that thing, I'll knock you down."

  The comment finally brought a smile to Mathew's face. "Sorry. I'm just preoccupied. It's frustrating being cooped up like this. As soon as the rain lets up I want to leave."

  "We will," Collin said. "Say, those pastries over there look pretty good. Want to split one?"

  Mathew followed Collin's gaze to a small cart where a man was selling cone-shaped cakes sprinkled with pow­dered white sugar.

  "You go ahead. I couldn't eat a thing."

  Collin shrugged. "I'm not hungry. I was just trying to get your mind off the topic."

  Mathew thumped Collin with his shoulder. After all the years his friend probably could read his mind. They con­tinued along the aisles looking at the merchandise and the various wares. The merchants of New Raburn were a re­sourceful lot, and offered everything from pots and pans to boots and jewelry.

  A quick glance back at the tables confirmed that Lara and Ceta were still engaged in their conversations; more­over, it appeared that three other women had now joined their group. Mathew made a mental note to check back on her later. It suddenly occurred to him that in their rush to leave Devondale, he hadn't had the time to get Lara a wedding gift; so he decided to remedy the situation by stopping at a small stand that was selling handcrafted jew­elry. The owner, a heavyset fellow, introduced himself and invited him to take his time.

  "What are you doing?" asked Collin.

  "I thought I'd surprise Lara with something," Mathew said, picking up a silver and turquoise bracelet.

  "Better go with one of the necklaces. She's not partial to turquoise."

  Mathew started to reply when he remembered that Collin probably knew her tastes better than he did. Nevertheless, the comment annoyed him. He put the bracelet down.

  The next stall had a number of finely crafted wooden boxes with flowers inlaid onto the lids. Mathew thought they were attractive and exactly the sort of thing a woman would like. The first one he opened was lined with red vel­vet and had several small compartments.

  The stall owner was with another customer at that mo­ment. So Mathew patiently waited for her to finish.

  "Lara's already got one like that," Collin told him. "Her mother gave it to her for her birthday two years ago." "What?"

  Collin shrugged and turned his palms up. Exasperated, Mathew handed him the box and walked to the next stall where they were selling perfumes. Up ahead, Father Thomas and Garvin had been joined by a third man. Mathew purchased a bottle that smelled like fresh flowers and stuck it in his vest pocket before Collin had a chance to comment. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that his friend had also acquired additional com­pany—a tall blond girl. They seemed to be getting on well together so he kept going.

  The next aisle contained stands selling paintings, pot­tery, and a variety of decorative glassware. Mathew walked past them and stopped at one where several other people were watching an artist doing a charcoal sketch of a woman. She was seated in front of him on a chair. The image on the pad didn't look very much like her, in his opinion, but he kept the observation to himself.

  Hung on canvas at the back of the stall were different examples of the artist's work. These were mostly land­scapes and coastline views of homes with colorful flowers on balconies. He recognized two of the coastlines. One was of lower Elgaria, and the second was a view of Bar-cora's harbor from Tenley Palace. On the whole, he thought they were quite good, and felt the artist would be better served if he concentrated on landscapes rather than portraits.

  After a while he decided it might be time to check on Lara again. He had only gone a few steps, however, when he stopped and turned around. At the top left corner of the booth he saw another coastline scene. On the hill above was a castle with two watchtowers overlooking a small bay. He stared in disbelief. It was the same castle in his dreams, right down to the color of the walls and the tile roof. Even the watchtowers were identical. He was sud­denly conscious that his heart was pounding, and he looked around for Father Thomas. The priest was two aisles away talking with a group of men. Collin and the girl he'd been speaking to were just coming around the

  corner.

  The number of onlookers around the artist had in­creased, by several people who were interested in seeing the portrait he was working on. It was all Mathew could do to keep himself from interrupting the man. He had to know where that castle was located. He stared at the paint­ing again. He'd never seen the coastline before, but it was definitely the same castle.

  Moving closer, he looked over the artist's shoulder. At best the man was only halfway finished with the sketch. He cursed under his breath and looked around. Several booths away he spotted Harry and a woman, chatting with a vendor who was trying to sell them some pottery. Mathew forced himself to walk slowly toward them. He wanted to run.

  "May I have a word with you?" he asked, touching Harry on the shoulder.

  Harry turned around and smiled when he saw him. "Hello, Thad. Are you enjoying the festival?"

  "Yes, it's very nice. I need to ask you a question. Do you know the artist over there?"

  "That's Ben Walsh. He and his family moved here about two years ago."

  "From where?"

  Harry scratched his head and thought for a moment. "I believe they're from Alor Satar... one of the eastern provinces up near the Nyngary border, if I recall right. Is something the matter?"

  "No," Mathew said. "Would you mind introducing me to him? I'm interested in one of his paintings."

  Harry turned to the woman he was with and excused himself, then he and Mathew walked to the artist's booth. They waited until the artist finally put down his charcoal and held the pad up for his subject to see. The woman and her companion exchanged pleased smiles, paid the man, and went happily on their way, as did the rest of the crowd.

  "Ben, I want to introduce you to Thaddeus Lane," Harry said. "He was walking by your booth and saw one of your paintings."

  "Which one?" Ben asked, shaking Mathew's hand. "That one in the left comer." Mathew pointed. "That's Leola Bay," Ben said. "I did it quite a while back."

  Mathew searched his memory for a second and couldn't place the name. "Leola Bay," he repeated. "Where's it lo­cated?"

  "About ten miles from where I grew up. My father was the d'Elso's head groundskeeper. That's Rivalin up on the hill.. . their summer palace. If you like the painting, I can give you a good price on it."

  "How much?"

  "How about ten elgars?"

  "How about six?" Mathew countered.

  Ben
frowned and looked down at his feet for a moment. 'Tell you what... let's make it eight and I'll throw in a charcoal sketch of you and your lady. You're the newcom­ers, right?"

  "Right," said Mathew. "Make it seven and I'll save you the trouble of doing a sketch."

  Ben took a deep breath and held out his hand. "Done."

  While the painting was being wrapped Mathew asked for more information on Leola Bay.

  "It's up in the North Country," Ben told him. "About a day's ride from Knightsbridge. There's not really much up there except Rivalin and some small towns. I've got a map here, if you want to see."

  "I'd like that very much," said Mathew.

  He was aware that Harry was listening to the conversa­tion, but he didn't care. Their eyes met as he bent over the map and Harry winked at him. "I'll let you two talk-. I'd bet­ter be running back to the wife before I get in trouble." He gave Mathew a friendly slap on the shoulder and departed.

  "Good man," Mathew said, watching him go;

  "That he is," Ben agreed. "Will you and your friends be staying with us?"

  "No, I'm afraid not. We'll be leaving very soon."

  43

  Tenley Palace, Sennia

  When the hum started again, neither James nor Gawl were surprised, but something was different this time. A brilliant white point of light appeared and rapidly expanded itself into the form of a woman. When the hum stopped, Teanna d'Elso was standing there.

  "My," she said, touching her face with her fingers. Gawl and James looked at each other. This was no im­age. She was actually there in front of them.

  "Good morning, sires," she said, with a small curtsey. "Teanna," Gawl replied stiffly. "Your highness," said James.

  "I apologize for coining this way, but I thought it would be better for us to meet each other face-to-face." "Isn't that what we did the other day?" asked Gawl. "In a manner of speaking, but it's not quite the same thing. At any rate, I've brought a letter from my father."

  Teanna reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out a yellow parchment envelope bearing the royal seal of Nyngary and handed it to James.