‘Even the ancient Blind God of Chaos doesn’t play as fast and loose with people’s lives as Kalkin does. Mythar merely unravelled the fabric of existence and let the pieces fall where they might, but Kalkin, he picks his targets and has no concerns over their plight.’
‘Magnus is right on one count,’ Pug said.
‘Which?’
‘That I sacrifice others for what I believe is a “higher good”.’
She nodded. ‘Doing the right thing has always been the heart of who you are. Why do you think I built up my own little network of agents within the Conclave?’
‘I’ve always wondered. At times I questioned your agenda.’
‘It was to have a separate source of information, one that didn’t pass through that prism in your head, the one that always casts light a certain way, red at one end, violet at the other? Only your prism is always “right” at one end and “wrong” at the other.’
Pug nodded, sipping a cup of tea. ‘You always were more pragmatic.’
‘I’m older,’ she quipped. Both of them had lived over a century, but one of the continuing jests between them was that Miranda would never tell Pug exactly how much older she was. Nakor had married Miranda’s mother for a time, while she learned all she could of magic from him, then she had moved on to Macros, the master magician in the world at that time, to glean what she could from him. Miranda had been the offspring of that union, and with both her parents dead, she was the only person who knew the truth.
Pug laughed. ‘I have missed you.’
She held up her hand. ‘Be cautious, Pug. My feelings are as deep as your own and I would like nothing more than to drag you off to bed and relive some of the happiest moments in my life. But I suspect that would not be a good idea.’
Pug said nothing.
‘I ache to have Magnus embrace me as his mother, just one more time, and I hurt whenever I think of Caleb. But Kalkin did not bring my memories back and place them in his body just so you and I could have a joyful reunion. He placed them here so that Nakor and I can help with whatever needs to be done to save this world. For I am certain we are at a crux, and that the outcome of it all is going to determine the measure of life on this planet, and perhaps a larger portion of this universe.’
From behind them, they both heard Magnus. ‘I agree.’
They turned to see their son standing in the doorway.
Looking at Miranda, Magnus said, ‘You have no more control over who you are than I do. You are as much a victim of this cruel jest as my father and me. Kalkin burdened you with the loves and loss of another and you feel that as strongly as if it were your own, and I do not envy you this.’ Then he looked at his father. ‘I have not changed my opinion on your choices, but I honour your willingness to give all to protect others. But ultimately, it is my feeling that we are indeed at a crux and that whatever forces have been gathering out there in the universe have picked Midkemia as their battleground. I believe that the final conflict is underway.’ He sat between them and added, ‘I too must serve in the best fashion I know how.’
Pug reached out and touched his son’s shoulder. ‘We are free to disagree, but I will never turn my back on you, Magnus.’
Son studied father for a moment, weighing if that was a reproof of his behaviour the night before, or if it was reassurance. He chose to accept the second meaning. ‘I know, Father.’
At that moment Nakor hurried in. ‘Oh, good, you’re all here. Come, I have something to show you. You must see this.’
Without waiting to see if they were following, he hurried out of the room and almost lost them when he entered a busy plaza. Reaching a large building Pug had never seen before, he went inside. They followed him in.
Shelves from floor to ceiling lined the wall and scroll cases were piled in racks across the floor. ‘It’s a library!’ said Nakor with delight. ‘These Pantathians have a library.’
‘Is there anything in there—’ began Magnus.
‘About the Sven-ga’ri?’ finished Nakor. ‘No, not directly, but there were clues in their oldest records. These people have been here a long time. A very long time. I think for many years they were like those Quor, up in the north: primitives, but as they became more civilized, more self-sufficient, they still had this one prime mandate, to care for those . . . whatever the Sven-ga’ri are.’
Having less patience than the others, Miranda said, ‘What have you found, you annoying little man? You wouldn’t bring us here if you didn’t have something to show off!’
Nakor smiled and cocked his head. ‘True.’ He picked up a scroll and said, ‘Look.’
Pug glanced at it and said, ‘I’ve never seen this language before, Nakor.’
‘Neither have I,’ answered the little gambler, ‘but you can read any language if you know the trick.’
Magnus said, ‘That’s a trick I would like to learn.’
‘I’ll teach you sometime,’ he said.
‘What is in there?’ asked Pug.
‘It’s just a clue, but it’s a really big clue.’ Nakor sat down on the floor and the others took that as a cue that he was about to launch into a long discussion. ‘We assumed the Dragon Lords created or found those things on the roof of that building because they ordered the Sun Elves to protect the Quor who are protecting the Sven-ga’ri, right?’
Pug nodded.
‘This,’ Nakor pointed to the scroll, ‘says, “and then where found, they remain, by order of those . . .” I think it means gods-brothers/sisters, or something about Alma-Lodaka and her relatives. Dragon Lords. Don’t you see? It’s something they found.’
‘The Sven-ga’ri pre-date the Dragon Lords?’ asked Magnus.
‘Or are at least contemporaneous with them,’ said Nakor. He looked very pleased with himself. ‘They’ve been around a very long time, back to before the Chaos War, I think.’ He waved his hand in an arc over his head. ‘Dragon Lords, the gods, the golden bridges, all of that was happening while those singing lumps of light were over there.’ He grinned. ‘Wonderful, isn’t it?’
‘Nice to know,’ said Miranda, ‘but where does it get us?’
‘It makes me think the Dragon Lords didn’t put guards around the Sven-ga’ri to protect them, but to keep others from accessing them. I think the Quor and these Pantathians have been around them so long they don’t even remember why they were put there. The Sun Elves certainly forgot what they were doing there. And the Star Elves don’t even remember them, nor do any of the spellweavers in Elvandar. I don’t know about the moredhel.’ He shrugged. ‘I could go ask Arkan, I suppose, but I doubt he knows.’
‘Arkan?’ asked Pug.
‘Oh, didn’t I mention?’ said Miranda. ‘A moredhel chieftain is staying on the Island.’
‘You did forget to mention that,’ said Pug. ‘And who is keeping an eye on him while you’re here?’
‘Calis.’
‘That could prove amusing,’ said Magnus.
Pug stood up and said, ‘All very interesting, Nakor, but I’m not sure how it’s going to serve us.’
‘Maybe we should just be more cautious,’ said Miranda.
Pug nodded and glanced at Magnus. ‘You’re the best with protective spells.’
Magnus said, ‘I won’t argue.’
Miranda laughed. ‘It’s good . . .’ She let the thought go unfinished. It was a life that was not her own.
The portal room was supposed to be unoccupied, by order of the Lord Regent, but two figures approached in the dead of night. Tanderae, Loremaster of the Clan of the Seven Stars moved quietly and quickly along the shadows of the wall. One step behind him was a guard captain of the Sentinels, Egun by name. Tanderae had asked him to accompany him this night because he was certain he was above reproach in his loyalty to the Clan of the Seven Stars and not subject to the politics of the Regent’s Meet.
He needed a witness to bear out what he had been uncovering for a year, and it had to be someone unimpeachable. The two brothers, the conjurer Laro
mendis and the Demon Master Gulamendis, both understood what was taking place, but they were considered questionable witnesses at best: Laromendis was rumoured to have been a member of the Circle of Light, and had been outlawed by the Lord Regent decades before, while his brother trafficked with demons; so no more need be said.
But the young captain of Sentinels was the soul of integrity and if he bore witness to what Tanderae suspected was taking place tonight, the Loremaster would have the proof he needed to save his people from betrayal at the highest level.
Weeks before, Tanderae, Gulamendis, and his human colleague Amirantha, had been summoned to this very building because of an attempt by the demon host, as they thought, to locate them. Instead they had seen something far more terrifying than a Demon King, for a Dreadlord had hovered briefly on the other side of the portal.
Since that night the Lord Regent had ordered the building emptied and the power to the portals deactivated, but several times Tanderae had seen figures entering and leaving late at night when most of the residents of E’bar were asleep.
A few nights earlier, Tanderae had discovered that one of the figures he had seen was the Lord Regent himself. He had followed him into the building unobserved and what he witnessed had frightened him in a way he could never have imagined before, not even having fought demons across the stars.
Now, on stealthy feet, they entered the main hall and moved to the entrance to the main portal chamber. At the far end they saw the Lord Regent place a crystal in the base of the portal and watched as energy gathered between the pillars to form an opalescent surface. The energy swirled and then resolved into a black form of woeful countenance, a thing man-like in shape, but without discernible features. Around its head burned a crown of flames, yet they appeared to give off no light. Eyes like red-hot coals gazed out at the now-prone form of the Lord Regent.
Words were exchanged in a language neither Tanderae or the Sentinel captain could understand, but the very sound of them caused the flesh on his neck and arms to gather prickle, as if a frigid cold swept through the hall.
After some time the vision in the portal vanished. Tanderae and Egun stepped back quickly, and hurried to the entrance. ‘Do you understand what you just witnessed?’ asked the Loremaster.
‘I am not sure,’ said the captain. ‘What manner of being was that, and why would any Lord Regent prostrate himself before any but our true king?’
Upon rejecting the Queen of Elvandar as not being the true ruler of the Star Elves, the taredhel had decreed that the Lord Regent was the supreme authority in E’bar. The captain was confused and his expression revealed it.
‘What you witnessed was something from the Forbidden!’ hissed Tanderae.
The Forbidden was lore that pre-dated the flight of the Star Elves from Midkemia to their home among the stars, ages before. Only a few high ranking members of the Regent’s Meet, such as the Loremaster and the captain, even knew that the Forbidden existed. Fewer still knew what the hidden lore was.
‘You speak of treason,’ hissed the captain as they hastened away from the building.
‘It is the Regent is commits treason. As you say, to whom would he kneel and place his forehead on the stone, as if to worship? That thing within the portal is an enemy more vicious than the Demon Legion. It is a living hate from ancient times.’
‘How do we proceed if what you say is true?’
‘We must find another who can be trusted.’ Tanderae declared. ‘Laromendis and Gulamendis both know the truth, but their word would be given scant weight in testimony.’
‘Even if another could be found, who would try the Lord Regent? The Meet is chosen by his hand. You stand alone, because of your guild’s history, and you would be a voice alone, as would I.’
‘Who among the Sentinels can you trust?’
‘Now you speak of civil war?’
‘I speak of saving the race,’ said the Loremaster.
‘There is another way, but I fear it will bear consequences as dire as any other.’
‘What is that?’
‘Call to Tomas of Elvandar. Have him return and then show him what is in the portal.’
Tanderae was silent, standing in the darkness, and after a moment he said, ‘That is another part of the Forbidden.’
‘But it stands before us in the flesh, and who can deny him? He is an Ancient One and if he says that what we saw is also of the Forbidden, no voice would be raised to defend the Lord Regent. He would be judged guilty by all.’
‘I will think about it,’ said Tanderae. ‘I will send the brothers abroad, so they may make their way to Elvandar. They will not be missed. I thank you for your wisdom, Egun.’
‘I will speak carefully with a few I trust, so if it comes to a confrontation we will not stand alone, but this must wait until you have summoned the Valheru.’ The captain turned and vanished into the night.
Tanderae had a high opinion of Tomas. He had arrived for his first visit on the back of a golden dragon, but his demeanour had been deferential and respectful of the life the taredhel had found for themselves. He had bid them to visit Elvandar at their pleasure and made no claims of sovereignty, merely welcoming them home as lost kin. But he was Valheru, and all that meant in the fibre of any elf’s being. He was one of their ancient enslavers, the pillagers of their labours and despoilers of their very bodies when the mood suited them. They were evil in every way imagined; yet Tomas was not like that.
Battling within himself, Tanderae hurried off on his own errand, to find the two brother elves and send them off to seek help in saving E’bar and all who lived there.
Hal stood silently, looking out over the ocean as the sun set. It had been decided he’d avail himself of Ruffio’s means to travel to Rillanon, getting him there a day before the King’s ship arrived. Tradition had the King lie in state three days before being sealed up in the vault of his ancestors, and then the Congress of Lords would meet, and the serious business of choosing a new king would be underway.
Ty had agreed to travel with him, and he was glad, for despite his sudden immersion in all things politic at the ungentle hands of Jim Dasher Jamison, Ty was well practised in the ins and outs of court life and would be a valuable ally.
A soft sound from behind caused him to turn. Stephané had somehow stolen her way into his quarters and now stood regarding him with accusing eyes. ‘You haven’t come to see me,’ she said as if it were a crime of the highest order.
‘I’ve been very busy,’ he said, and realized there were few worse things he could have said. He tried to clarify his statement. ‘I mean, I wanted to see you, but with the Congress of Lords gathering in Rillanon to chose a new king, I have much to learn and . . .’ He saw the amendment was getting him nowhere.
‘You should stay here.’ It wasn’t a question or request, but a statement.
‘I want to,’ he said softly, ‘or at least I want to be where you are.’
She took a step and suddenly was in his arms, squeezing him tightly. ‘Mother told me about your “chat”, and that she liked you very much as a result. Father saw how brave you were protecting everyone in the great hall. You are a duke, even if your duchy is full of Keshians, and my father would find you a place in court, I know it. Please, stay.’
His heart broke. ‘I can’t. I am related by blood to the crown of the Isles. It is my duty to go and elect the new king.’
‘Will I ever see you again?’
He stepped back slightly, took her chin in his hand and said, ‘That, Highness, is a certainty.’ He kissed her and without another word she turned and fled, tears running down her face.
Hal stood still for a long time, the pain in his soul as deep and sharp as when he had learned of his father’s death. At last, he crossed to a door and opened it, finding a servant waiting on the other side. ‘Send for Lord Tyrone and the magician Ruffio,’ he ordered. ‘It’s time to leave.’
• CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE •
Destruction
PUG PROBE
D.
‘Be careful,’ Miranda said for the umpteenth time.
‘Yes, yes,’ he said, annoyed and amused. With the knowledge that the Sven-ga’ri pre-dated the Valheru, they approached the problem of unlocking the matrix anew.
Nakor’s thoughts came to them in the matrix. It occurs to me that all those signatures of race that we found – demon, Valheru, elf – may be locks or guards enabling the matrix to tell the difference between friend and foe.
To Pug this felt like stating the obvious. Guards abound. They have a city of beings committed to guarding them on all sides. Why yet more locks?
Perhaps to keep the Pantathians out? answered Magnus.
Perhaps . . . echoed Pug.
They continued to study the matrix.
Krondor was in uproar when Martin and Brendan conDoin rode through the northern gate. They had been unable to find a ship heading south because the Duke of Yabon was sending every scrap of arms and armour back home, along with his army, to Ylith. So they rode until they were ready to sleep in the saddle and came to a city almost returned to normal.
Martin presented his orders to the gate captain who waved him through and they made straight for the palace. There they gave their mounts to the stable lackeys and hurried to the reception area. A frantic-looking guard captain read their orders then said, ‘Well, you’re too late. The Prince left days ago.’
‘Left?’ asked Martin.
‘Haven’t you heard? The King is dead. The Congress meets in a day to elect a new king. Of course the Prince of Krondor has to be there.’
Holding his orders as if they were so much scrap, Martin said, ‘What am I to do with this?’
‘Hold on to it, I suggest,’ offered the captain. ‘Find an inn: there should be plenty of rooms now that the Western Armies are marching home, and wait until someone comes for you.’
A Crown Imperiled Page 38
