Orb Sceptre Throne

by Ian Cameron Esslemont

  Ebbin could only nod his sunken head.

  ‘Well,’ the man said, his voice gruff but gentle, ‘I understand. I was just saying that I could set up a smithing station here for your needs. Sharpening tools, forging items.’

  ‘Yes,’ Taya said. ‘That would be excellent. Thank you. I believe we will have need of that.’

  After one last warning clasp she watched while the man moved off, then she left Ebbin to pick up his stylus and return to his record-keeping.

  Antsy and Corien led the way out of Pearl Town, as Panar had named it. Malakai immediately slipped away without a word. Ashamed to be seen with the likes of us, Antsy grumbled to himself. Progress was slow, as they elected to travel with no light at all. Orchid murmured directions from close behind. Despite the girl’s descriptions of the way ahead Antsy kept crashing into walls in the pitch black. And Corien limped, unsteady, grunting his pain, his breathing wet and laboured.

  ‘I see them,’ Orchid announced after they’d walked a maze of narrow streets. ‘Stairs, ahead.’

  Antsy let out a snort of disgust. Just great – climbing blasted stairs in the dark!

  ‘They’re very broad. Open on the right. They climb a cliff up and up … Great Mother – so high!’

  In the dark Antsy rolled his eyes. Wonderful. Absolute night all around and a drop-off. Couldn’t get any better. ‘Malakai?’

  ‘No sign.’

  Gettin’ too casual, he is. Antsy’s right foot banged up against the riser of the first stair and he tumbled forward on to them. He dropped his sword and scraped a shin, cursing. The blade clanged from the stone steps like anvils falling in the dark.

  ‘Sorry, Red,’ Orchid offered, sounding embarrassed.

  Antsy just cursed under his breath. Corien almost fell over him as he felt his way forward in the black ink. Fucking band of travelling harlequins, we are. Just missing the floppy hats.

  Orchid grasped his arm to help him up and he almost yanked it free.

  ‘Keep tight to the left,’ she suggested. ‘Single file … I guess.’

  ‘I’ll go first,’ Antsy said. Then he froze, his lips clenching tight. ‘Orchid – where’s my Hood-damned sword?’

  ‘Oh! Sorry.’ She pressed it to his hand. He snapped it up, grated a sullen, ‘Thanks.’

  Can’t even find my own damned sword! Useless! Completely useless!

  Up they went, sliding along the smooth left wall. The staircase was quite broad, with shallow risers only a hand’s breadth or so in height. Luckily the natural list of the Spawn tilted forward and to the left. If it had leaned the other way he didn’t think they could have managed. A gathering warm breeze dried the sweat on the nape of his neck and pressed against his back as the air pushed in around him, rushing up this access. Just warm air rising? Or something more … worrisome? He couldn’t be sure.

  ‘Feel that wind?’ Corien asked from the dark.

  ‘So pleasant for a change,’ Orchid answered.

  Antsy said nothing.

  Finally, Orchid ordered a stop. ‘Something’s ahead. Doors. Broken doors. Stone. Very thick. Looks like we can get through, though.’ Antsy grunted his understanding. ‘Careful now. Slow.’

  Antsy and Corien felt their way over shards of shattered rock, ducked under leaning eaves of larger fragments. The Darujhistani swordsman was stumbling more and more and Antsy found himself helping him constantly now. He whispered, ‘How’re you doing?’

  ‘Not so well, I’m afraid. Feeling weak.’

  Antsy touched the back of a hand to the lad’s forehead: hot and slick with sweat. Maybe an infection. That blade or sharpened stick couldn’t have been too clean. ‘We have to stop,’ he said, louder.

  ‘Corien?’ Orchid asked. ‘It’s bad?’

  ‘My apologies. Not what I had in mind.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say so?’ she demanded, outraged. ‘I asked earlier!’

  ‘We couldn’t very well have stayed there,’ he said, tired and patient, ‘could we?’

  ‘There are rooms ahead,’ came Malakai’s voice from far to the fore.

  Despite himself Antsy flinched at the sudden announcement from the dark. Hate it when he does that! ‘What’ve you been doing!’ he yelled back angrily.

  ‘Scouting,’ came the answer, much closer now. ‘Orchid, the hall goes on straight then there are multiple rooms to either side. Take one. We need to rest anyway.’

  Antsy started forward, still helping Corien. ‘Any sign of the Malazans?’

  ‘No. None. No sign of anyone at all.’

  ‘Perhaps we should’ve brought that fellow Panar with us,’ Orchid said.

  Antsy snorted. ‘What could he do for us?’

  ‘He knows his way around the Spawn. He could direct us.’

  ‘Almost all of what he told us was lies,’ Malakai said, dismissive.

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘His story’s full of holes. How did he get away from the attacks he described? I wager he betrayed his comrades. Sold them out to save his skin.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ said Orchid, outraged. ‘You weren’t there. Why assume that?’

  ‘Because of his other lies.’

  ‘What do you mean his other lies?’ she demanded, her voice getting even louder. ‘Stop making empty accusations. Either you know or you don’t.’

  ‘Leave it be,’ Antsy murmured. ‘I agree with him.’

  ‘No! I will not be shut up by this man’s airs and knowing hints.’

  ‘Very well,’ Malakai answered, sounding grimly pleased. ‘These poor starving men and women you seem to feel such sympathy for. These scrapings of the would-be treasure-hunters who came scrambling for easy riches. They can’t buy food and water from any Confederation boats. They’ve nothing left to sell. They didn’t even have the weapons left to stab our two friends. Now, there’s only one thing left down here to eat – which is why they attacked us in the first place, and why they didn’t pursue us afterwards. We killed or badly wounded a number of them, and – for the time being at least – they have enough to eat.’

  Orchid’s breath caught in the dark. ‘No,’ she said, her voice strangled. ‘I don’t believe you.’

  Malakai didn’t answer; he didn’t need to.

  Antsy remembered those snarling rat-like faces, the bared teeth, the frenzied glistening eyes, and thought he’d vomit right then. Instead, he took a bracing deep breath of the sea-tinged air. ‘So this is not the way?’ he asked, dizzy.

  ‘The way?’ Malakai answered. ‘It’s a way – at least that. And that’s what I want. We’ll reconnoitre after a rest.’

  Antsy grunted his agreement and he and Corien continued shambling up the hall.

  They took turns keeping watch, or in Antsy’s case listening very hard indeed. And the titanic fragment of Moon’s Spawn spoke to him. A saboteur, he understood the deep groans that came shuddering up through the stone beneath his thighs and hands. The sharp distant poppings of snaps and cracks. He’d spent a lot of time underground. It reminded him of something … something from his youth. But for the life of him he couldn’t quite place it just then.

  Even Malakai stayed with them to lie down and to stand a watch. It seemed he wasn’t the sort to pretend he needed less sleep than anyone else.

  In the ‘morning’, when Malakai woke everyone, Orchid came to Antsy and set a hand on his arm to crouch down next to him. ‘Corien’s getting worse,’ she whispered. ‘I’ve done everything I can, but that weapon, whatever it was, must’ve been filthy.’

  ‘How bad—’

  ‘I can still walk,’ Corien interrupted loudly. ‘The quiet and dark, you know. Sharpens the hearing.’

  ‘You’ll have to walk on your own,’ Malakai said flatly.

  ‘Your concern is a soothing balm,’ the youth replied.

  Antsy smiled in the dark: he would’ve just told Malakai to go fuck himself.

  ‘Red, you lead then,’ Malakai said, ignoring the sarcasm. ‘Corien … walk with Orchid.’

 
‘And you?’ Orchid demanded. ‘Wandering off gods know where? You should stay with us in case there’s trouble.’

  ‘If there’s trouble I’ll be more use as a hidden asset.’

  Orchid just snorted at that. Antsy imagined her throwing up her hands in the dark.

  As they readied, Antsy asked Orchid over and held out his pannier. ‘You’re sure?’ she said, surprised.

  ‘Yeah – no use in a fight. An’ I’ll need both hands. Corien? The use of your sword perhaps?’

  ‘Yes, Red.’ There came the unmistakable sound of polished iron brushing wood as the blade cleared the mouth of the sheath. ‘Orchid?’

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Fumblings as Corien handed Orchid the weapon. ‘Ach!’

  ‘What?’ from both Antsy and Corien.

  ‘Cut my hand on the edge.’

  ‘Don’t hold it by the blade!’ Corien exclaimed. ‘Both edges are razor sharp.’

  ‘So I see,’ she answered, scathing. ‘Here.’

  The grip was pressed to Antsy, who took it and readied his own sword in his left hand. ‘Okay. Which way?’

  ‘To the right.’

  Antsy edged to the right. He held the blades before him, off slightly to each side. Occasionally a tip grated against a wall and he would adjust his direction. Behind, Corien grunted his effort. His boots slid heavily over the smooth stone floor and every breath was tight with pain. Antsy knew Orchid was doing her best to help him along.

  After a time turning corners and crossing large chambers – meeting places, or assemblies, Orchid thought them – she sent them climbing up against the Spawn’s slant to what she said was a large building front across a broad open court. ‘Do you even know where you’re going?’ Antsy finally complained.

  ‘Malakai is there, waiting,’ she said; then, rather impatiently, ‘I’ve been keeping us to the main ways, you know!’

  Antsy now said aloud what had been bothering him for some time: ‘Then where is everyone? The place is deserted! Where’re these Malazans? Where’s anyone?’

  ‘How in the name of—’ She stopped herself. ‘How should I know?’

  Antsy just grumbled. Again it seemed the constant straining to see in the utter dark was giving him hallucinations. Lights blossomed before his eyes. Shapes of deepest blue seemed to waver in his vision like ghosts. He silently fumed against it all. What a fool I was for throwing myself into this. A bad start before a worse end! I’m gonna die in the dark like a blasted worm.

  ‘You made it,’ Malakai said blandly from the dark. Antsy pulled up sharply. The observation was neither a compliment nor a complaint. ‘This looks to be some sort of large complex. We should take a look.’

  ‘I’m not so sure we should go in there,’ Orchid said, sounding worried.

  ‘Not for you to say. Corien, perhaps you can sit down inside, in any case.’

  The lad managed a tight, ‘Certainly. That would be … most welcome.’

  ‘We are agreed then.’

  ‘Which way?’ Antsy rasped, his throat dry – already they were getting low on water.

  ‘There are stairs up,’ Orchid said.

  He slid his foot ahead until he bumped up against the first, then he carefully felt his way up until Orchid told him he was on the last. ‘This is a very wide doorway, tall too,’ she murmured. ‘Open double doors. Inside is a kind of arcade with many side openings and corridors.’

  Shit. This could take for ever. ‘Look, Malakai,’ he grumbled, ‘it would help if we knew what we were looking for … Malakai …?’

  ‘He’s gone.’

  Osserc-damned useless whore’s son! That’s fucking well it! He pulled off his rolled blanket and began rummaging through it.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Orchid asked.

  ‘I’m getting the lantern.’

  ‘Malakai said—’

  ‘Malakai can dick himself with his own—’ Antsy bit off his words, cleared his throat. ‘Sorry, lass. Malakai isn’t here, is he?’

  He set the lantern on the stone floor, pulled out his set of flints and tinder and began striking. The sparks startled him at first, so huge and bright were they. Light deprivation – seen it before in the mines. Have to shield the lantern. In moments he had the tinder glowing: that alone seemed light enough. He took up a pinch of the lint and shavings and held them to the wick and blew. Once the wick caught he blew again, steadily, pinched out the tinder and shoved it away back into its box, which he snapped shut.

  The lantern’s flame blossomed to life and he had to turn his face away, so harsh was the golden light. Blinking, squinting against the pain the light struck in his eyes, he could eventually see and what he saw took his breath away.

  Everything was black, yes, but not plain or grim. The walls, the columns of the carved stone arcades, all writhed with intricate carving. Stone vines climbed the walls, delicate stone leaves seemed to wave before his eyes. Bowers of trees, all carved from the glittering finely grained black stone, arched over a second-storey walkway above.

  Then he saw the smooth polished floor and he frowned. Dust covered it, but so too did a litter of broken pots and scattered furniture. No looting here. Why?

  In the light, Corien shuffled over to a side alcove of carved benches and sat down, hissing his pain. Antsy set the lantern on the bench next to him. The lad squinted his puzzlement. His face gleamed sickly pale, sheathed in sweat. ‘You keep the light,’ Antsy told him. ‘I’ll have a poke around.’ Corien drew breath to object but Antsy held out his sword, pommel first. Offering a tired smile, Corien took it. ‘Look after Orchid here while I’m gone.’

  Orchid had the sense not to object to that bit of chauvinism.

  Shortsword out, Antsy picked his way through the litter. It was a large main entrance hall, or gathering chamber. Halls opened off it all around. Stairs led down and up from it on both the right and the left. The stairs were intricately carved, the balusters with vines and blossoms. His light-starved eyes made out much more in the weak light than he knew he could’ve normally; as on a night of a full moon or a fresh snow. In places the floor bore carved designs like grille-work or lattices bearing foliage.

  Far off across the chamber the lantern glowed like a star. Next to it Orchid paced restlessly. Antsy found an overturned chest or travel box, its contents of cloth spilled across the floor. He kicked through the dark rich robes. Damn me if I don’t know what’s valuable or not! A Togg-damned waste of time this is.

  Something about the nearby stairs caught his attention and he crossed to them. The dust was disturbed here. Not by tracks, but brushed aside, as if disturbed by a wind or the dragging of a wide cloth. He decided to follow as far the light extended. The stairs brought him to a floor just beneath the main one. Here light streamed down through the carvings in the floor above, casting illuminated scenes of bowers of trees across another smooth floor. An intended effect, Antsy wondered? Did lamps or such like burning above cast the same shadows when this place was occupied? He walked out on to the floor.

  An object gleamed in the light streaming down. A stick of some kind. Antsy walked up and crouched over it. A bone. A leg bone. A human tibia. And not clean, either. Tangles of ligaments and dried meat still clung to its ends.

  He straightened, swallowed the bile churning sickly in his stomach. A dense glow now shone from the far end of the chamber. Fascinated, unable to turn away, he edged closer until the light was sufficient to reveal a carpet of similar remains choking the far side. The shadows of alien blossoms streamed down upon a mass of human carcasses. Many still wore their helmets. Their feet remained in boots. The meat of calf and thigh was gone, as were the viscera from empty gutted chests and abdomens. Ribcages gaped like open mouths hanging with desiccated strips of flesh and meat. Antsy had seen similar remains after battles where scavengers had picked over the dead, taking the choice bits and leaving the rest.

  He choked back a yell of alarm and ran for the stairs.

  Not looted. Avoided! Everyone else knows better! And Panar sent us here! To
our damned deaths.

  He came pelting back to Orchid and Corien, who stared, tensing in alarm. ‘What is it?’ Orchid demanded, rising.

  ‘We have to get out of here – now!’

  ‘What—’

  ‘That – thing – everyone was scared of below. I think this is its lair. We have to go.’ He snatched up the lantern, took Corien by the arm. ‘Come on.’

  He chivvied them back up the hall to the doors. Here Orchid suddenly let out a cry and froze. Antsy let go of Corien, drew his shortsword. He squinted, seeing nothing. ‘What?’

  Hand at mouth, the girl stammered, ‘The door.’

  Antsy peered at the doorway anew. What of it? Dark, yes, but … Dark. The light did not penetrate. Something was blocking the entrance, something utterly black like a curtain of night. ‘What is it?’

  But Orchid could not speak. She merely jerked her head side to side, appalled, eyes huge.

  Shit. Antsy hefted his shortsword. Somehow he didn’t think it would do him much good. And munitions? Probably not them either. He looked to Corien; that finely curled hair now hung down sweat-plastered. The lad met his eye and nodded, hand tightening on his swordgrip.

  ‘It is a creature of Elder Night,’ said Malakai, stepping out from an alcove next to them. ‘Call it what you will. A daemon, or a fiend. Night animate. No doubt to it we are the invaders, the monsters.’

  ‘Spare me your sophistry,’ Antsy grated. ‘What can you do against it?’

  ‘I?’ The man cocked a brow. ‘Nothing. We are trapped. It would seem Panar has the last laugh after all.’

  Antsy almost threw his shortsword at the man. ‘Fine,’ he snarled. ‘Everyone back! I’ll try my munitions.’

  ‘Red …’ Corien warned, touching his arm.

  Antsy spun: Orchid had advanced upon the creature.

  Shit! ‘Orchid!’

  The girl ignored him, or couldn’t hear. One hand was at her throat, the other reaching out as if entreating. She spoke, and Antsy started, for now she uttered another language. One completely unfamiliar to him. Sing-song, it was. Not unpleasant to his ears.

  She spoke at length, pausing from time to time as if awaiting an answer. Antsy, Corien and Malakai waited, silent, scarcely breathing.