‘And I can offer a similar assurance as far as Rintarah’s forces are concerned.’
‘I see we understand each other, Elder.’
‘Clarity is always my goal, Majesty.’
‘There remains only the matter of when our provisional union should come to an end.’
‘Shall we say forty-eight hours after the eradication of the targets?’
Bethmilno thought about it, trying to see if agreement gave the opposition any kind of advantage. ‘All right,’ she decided. ‘Word will be sent to our fleet commanders.’
‘And to ours,’ Felderth replied, raising a hand.
The link was broken. Bethmilno’s image dissolved.
The Empress watched as Felderth’s likeness fragmented and disappeared into the glutinous liquid.
The throne room in her palace at Merakasa was dimly lit and virtually deserted. Several representations of the empire’s dragon emblem decorated the chamber, and the most prominent, occupying a sizeable wall, throbbed with magical vitality. The Empress came away from the hollow where the quicksilver simmered and turned to the only other person present.
‘Why do we need Rintarah, grandmother?’ he asked. To an eavesdropper, the use of her familial title might have seemed bizarre, given that he was an old man himself.
‘We don’t. Our presence will stop them making common cause with the rebels or Zerreiss against us. It’s all about expediency.’
‘So we’ll betray them?’
‘Of course. Just as soon as they’ve ceased to be of use.’
‘There are some stirrings around the court about all this.’
‘Stirrings?’
‘About the wisdom of cooperating with the enemy.’
‘I’ve just made clear exactly what that cooperation amounts to.’
‘Yes, but there’s talk about whether you’ve got your priorities right.’
Bethmilno adopted an aggressive tone. ‘You’re questioning them?’
He shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, grandmother. But there are those who express concern about developments other than the rebels.’
She nodded cannily. ‘You’re referring to the Clepsydra.’
‘Yes. Is it true that it’s been discovered?’
‘It was never really lost. We always knew approximately where it was, but we hadn’t bothered locating it. It’s only come to light now because our agents were shadowing a Diamond Isle ship, which led them to it.’ She smiled in a self-satisfied manner.
‘And is the Clepsydra really indicating an…end point?’
‘It wasn’t far off doing that the last time I saw it. And that was a very long time ago.’
‘Are you saying we have nothing to fear, grandmother?’
‘I’m saying I doubt the Clepsydra’s veracity. Because for all the skill with which it was created, it’s stood unattended for an age. There have been numerous shifts in the earth’s crust during that time, not to mention extremes of weather. Changes that could impair its function, and it goes without saying that it’s beyond the capability of any alive now to repair it.’
‘What of the so-called Source? If the rebels found that, too–’
‘Again, a groundless concern.’ The Empress was growing impatient.
‘But its power,’ her grandson ploughed on regardless. ‘Wouldn’t it be an appalling weapon in enemy hands?’
‘Only hands capable of using it. The rabble has no more understanding of how to master an artefact from what they call the Dreamtime than a dog knows how to drive a carriage. If we thought otherwise, we would have sought out and destroyed the Clepsydra long ago.’
‘I repeat, grandmother, that it’s the Source which causes most concern.’
‘And I say again,’ she replied tetchily, ‘that they have no hope of drawing on it. In any event it seems it’s been put beyond their reach, thanks to a bit of inventive maliciousness on the paladins’ part. Stop fretting’
‘I’ll try. So, how do we proceed?’
‘First we annihilate the rebels. Then we destroy the warlord. There’s nothing complicated about it,’ she assured him.
‘It’s simple,’ Zerreiss repeated patiently. ‘All I’m ordering is a diversion, and not an enormously big one at that.’ He indicated a spot on the hide map pegged up in front of them. ‘From here to around…here. It’ll put just a few days on our schedule. A week at most.’
‘With respect, sir,’ Wellem said, ‘it’s to do with practicalities.’ He jabbed his thumb sternward. ‘Redirecting all this is no small task.’
Their flagship was at the head of a massive fleet, consisting of a singularly ill-assorted collection of vessels; captured, commandeered and hastily built. Most were troop carriers, decks jammed with combatants and lashed-down war engines. Accompanying supply craft, laden with provisions, moved low in the freezing water.
‘Apart from re-plotting our course,’ Wellem continued, ‘the distribution of rations would have to be adjusted. That and a dozen other problems make it a logistical nightmare.’
‘I’m aware of all this,’ Zerreiss replied, ‘and the difficulties aren’t nearly as daunting as you make out, old friend. But I appreciate your efforts to save me from myself, as you see it.’
‘Sir, I would never–’
The warlord raised a hand to silence him, adding good-humouredly, ‘Of course you would. But this detour has great implications for our struggle.’
‘To a rock in the middle of the ocean, occupied by radicals? Do we need allies that badly?’
‘This isn’t about recruiting, is it, sir?’ ventured Sephor, the warlord’s younger aide. ‘It’s about him, isn’t it? The man in your dreams.’
‘I’ve not made a secret of it,’ Zerreiss confirmed. ‘Nor do I take strategic decisions based on hunches or intuition. You know that. Yet I strongly feel that heading for that island, meeting that man, are prerequisites for everything else we have to do.’
‘I don’t pretend to understand,’ Sephor admitted, ‘but I trust your instinct in this, sir. You’ve never steered us wrongly before.’
‘And I don’t intend to start now,’ Zerreiss assured him.
‘You know we won’t be the only ones heading there,’ Wellem reminded them. ‘Our intelligence says at least one empire fleet’s moving into those waters.’
‘It’s a good point,’ Sephor reckoned. ‘For the first time we’d be engaging the full force of imperial might head on.’
‘Have faith in me,’ the warlord said. ‘We’ve been preparing to take our message to their civilised world for long enough. It’s time we met.’ He fixed them with his cool, steady gaze. ‘Signal the new course.’
It was often said that the gods had some curious ideas about the deployment of their human progeny. While sceptics saw this as pure chance, and believers viewed it as divine intervention, both agreed that the disposition of players in the great game of life frequently displayed a savage irony.
So it was that this vast stretch of water hosted another ill-assorted troupe, also bound for the Diamond Isle.
‘Drink in the sight,’ Devlor Bastorran said. ‘You’re witnessing a momentous event.’
‘Is that so?’ Aphri Kordenza yawned into the back of her hand theatrically. ‘Just looks like a lot of boats to me.’
‘Ships,’ the paladin corrected.
‘Boats, ships; they’re only boring things that happen to float.’
‘You’ve no sense of history.’
‘Aphrim and I have something more important: a sense of self-preservation.’
‘Then perhaps you should take more interest in what’s going on around you.’ Bastorran gazed at the meld distastefully.
‘We take in enough to ensure our security. Everything else is surplus to requirements.’
‘It really doesn’t concern you that we’re part of something no living eyes have seen before?’
‘No. And we think it doesn’t matter to you either. We reckon you’re like us; when it comes down to it, you�
�re only interested in the Qalochian and getting your own back on him.’
‘Wiping out the rebels has its appeal, too,’ he said thoughtfully.
‘Sure, but even that’s not personal like Caldason, is it?’
‘I’ve never denied it. At least, I’ve never denied it to you.’
‘Then don’t give us all this history in the making shit, Bastorran.’
He held her gaze. ‘If you’ve got any ideas about getting to him first and depriving me of my revenge, freak, you’ll be history yourself. Both of you.’
‘You’ve no worries on that score. We’ll be contenting ourselves with cutting rebel throats, and hunting down the Ardacris woman.’
‘Who’s to be kept alive, remember. I promised Laffon I’d deliver her for interrogation.’
‘You’re no fun at all, are you?’
‘I only said she’d be fit for questioning. I didn’t say anything about her being whole.’
‘That’s some consolation, I suppose.’
‘Helping bring about Caldason’s death should provide further solace for you. So long as it’s me who strikes the final blow.’
The symbiote brightened. ‘That is something worth looking forward to. Aphrim’s going to be absolutely–’
Someone discreetly cleared their throat. They turned to see Bastorran’s aide approaching.
‘What is it, Meakin?’ the paladin snapped.
‘Begging your pardon, sir, but the Captain sends his compliments and asked me to let you know that our fleet and Rintarah’s are about to officially rendezvous. Up ahead, sir.’ He held out a glamoured spy tube. ‘You might find this useful.’
Bastorran grunted and snatched it.
‘Amazing sight, isn’t it, sir?’ Meakin ventured. ‘History in the making.’
‘Quite,’ Bastorran returned crisply.
Kordenza rolled her eyes skyward.
‘The Captain also said that we should be in sight of the Diamond Isle in less than a day,’ Meakin added.
‘And not a minute too soon,’ the symbiote mumbled.
On all sides, the sea was hidden by uncountable numbers of vessels of every conceivable kind. Forests of bobbing masts blotted out the horizon.
Ahead, the two stupendous fleets were merging, aglow with magical radiance.
27
‘Talk to me, paladin, or get ready to swim the rest of the way!’ Caldason had Praltor Mahaganis by the scruff of his neck up against the brig’s guardrail.
Serrah barged between them. ‘Reeth! Calm down.’
‘Out of the way.’
‘You know you don’t mean it.’
‘Don’t I? Take a look at my face and say that again.’
‘Let him be.’ Her tone was deliberate and threatening.
‘No,’ Mahaganis declared, ‘Reeth’s right. I should never have held anything back.’
They ignored him.
‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Reeth,’ Serrah said, ‘we have a fucking enormous enemy fleet threatening to block our path!’
On their starboard side an apparently limitless number of ships were approaching. They were some distance away, but the leaders had enough of a lead to cut off the brig, and soon.
‘This isn’t exactly the time for a history lesson,’ she added.
‘It might be the only time we have left,’ Caldason told her.
‘He’s right,’ Mahaganis said, a weary, resigned edge to his voice. ‘You should know everything.’
Kutch and Wendah came running. The skipper, Rad Cheross, and a couple of crewmen were close behind.
‘What’s all the fuss?’ Kutch panted.
‘What are you doing to him?’ the girl demanded angrily. From the look on her flushed face she was ready to pitch in.
‘It’s all right, Wendah,’ Mahaganis assured her. ‘No one’s trying to hurt me.’
‘He is.’ She scowled at Caldason.
‘No he’s not,’ Kutch said. ‘Reeth wouldn’t do that.’
‘Wouldn’t he? He’s a killer, isn’t he?’
Caldason let go of the old man.
Serrah placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder. ‘Kutch is telling you the truth, Wendah. Nobody’s going to be harmed. Now let’s all just be calm, shall we?’
Cheross stepped forward. ‘You might like to take this somewhere private. You’re in our way.’ He nodded towards the closing fleet.
‘Is there anything we can do?’ Serrah asked.
‘Not unless you’ve sailing skills you haven’t told me about. The best thing you can do is to leave us to it. Get yourselves to the mess, you’ll not be disturbed there.’
‘Can we outrun them?’
‘We’ve a fair chance. But I’m making no promises. Be ready to defend the ship if I have to give the order.’
‘Against all those?’ Kutch blurted.
‘It won’t come to that,’ Serrah promised. ‘We’re stopping Rad doing his job. Let’s go.’
She led them away. Wendah took the old man’s arm and guided him, with Kutch at her side. Caldason trailed behind. The deck was slick with spray, and a stiff wind blew constantly. They were glad to pile into the ship’s largest cabin, and took seats at the long oak table it housed.
Kutch said, ‘What is going on, Reeth?’
‘You know what Praltor said about me having Founder blood. You can’t make a statement like that then refuse to elaborate. I need to hear the rest, and now, while there’s still time.’
Wendah’s eyes widened. ‘Before we die, you mean?’
‘Reeth means in the time left before we get to the island,’ Serrah lied, flashing him a hard look. ‘Don’t you, Reeth?’
‘That’s right,’ he replied after a pause. ‘I should have said.’ He turned to Mahaganis. ‘Tell me what you meant about Founder blood. Please.’
‘Yes. Hmm, a drink first, if someone would be so kind.’ Wendah poured him watered wine from a jug. He smiled. ‘Thank you, child.’ Finding her hand, he squeezed it, then drank, finally thumping down the cup with resolve. ‘What I told you, Reeth,’ he stated, ‘was no lie. Founder blood flows in your veins.’
‘How can that be?’ Kutch wanted to know. ‘The Founders died out millennia ago.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’
‘Are you mocking us?’ Caldason said. ‘Or is senility addling your brain?’
‘Neither,’ Mahaganis replied. ‘I was never more serious.’
Serrah raised a mollifying hand. ‘This is just plain confusing, Praltor. Start at the beginning, can’t you?’
‘All right.’ He took another sip of wine and composed himself. ‘Nobody knows how or why the Founders lost their dominance. All we do know is that they had a remarkable civilisation, most of whose achievements are beyond our comprehension. The Founders were once the undisputed rulers of the world, then fell from grace, or were toppled, and their kind became extinct. At least, that’s what most people think.’
‘You’re saying otherwise?’
‘Oh, yes. Whatever cataclysm brought down the Founders, it didn’t wipe out all of them. I don’t know how many survived, or whether their descendants are disparate individuals or organised in some way. I suspect the latter. I think they exist as some kind of secret society, perhaps in a far land, away from prying eyes and–’
‘You know this for a fact?’ Serrah couldn’t keep the scepticism out of her voice.
‘Where and who they are can only be supposition, but I do know they exist because I was protecting Reeth against them. However they dispose themselves, they’re powerful enough to imperil anyone else who stands in their way.’
Caldason fixed him with a level gaze. ‘You say I have their blood. So why would I need protecting from them?’
‘Preserving the purity of their race is one of their highest ideals. You were the first example of a half-breed, or at least the first who lived that I heard of. Their blood courses in your veins, but that doesn’t make you one of them. It makes you something obscene in their eyes, some
thing to be destroyed.’
Caldason said nothing.
Serrah asked, ‘How did Reeth come to have this mixed parentage?’
‘As the result of a union between his Qalochian mother and a Founder-descended man. I don’t know if love was involved on either side or whether it was just a dalliance. I don’t know if your mother knew her lover was a Founder. I do know that he broke one of the strictest Founder taboos in laying with her. She died in childbirth, as you know, quite possibly because their race and ours weren’t meant to interbreed. But her death wasn’t enough for them. Reeth had to be eliminated too, as an abomination in their reckoning.’
‘You were there at my birth,’ Caldason remembered. ‘I saw it in a vision.’
‘Yes. I’d freshly deserted the paladins. The corruption had eaten deep into the clans and I was one of those who got out. I stood with the Qaloch, as others did, to oppose the persecution and injustice your people faced. As much of the maltreatment came from the paladins, from my blood, my duty lay in trying to rectify that wrong.’
‘You knew about these Founder offspring by then?’
‘Only because of my association with your people. As the native inhabitants of Bhealfa, their lineage was age old, and their path had crossed with the Founders’ many times in the past. In fact, I suspect Qalochians were used as a pool by the Founders. There were wise folk in your tribes who knew the truth. No one believed them, and they grew to be circumspect.’
‘A pool?’ Serrah queried.
‘I think that, now and again, Qaloch women were used to pleasure Founder males. As they’ve always been subject to bigotry, and widely feared because of their martial reputation, Qalochians were a good choice. Very few cared what happened to them, and even fewer would have listened to their grievances.’
‘What an awful way to exploit people. These Founders sound complete shits.’
‘It must have been a very convenient arrangement for them,’ Caldason said, a cold wrath barely restrained. ‘What happened to change things?’
‘It came to a head with your mother’s pregnancy,’ Mahaganis replied. ‘I believe that was an extreme rarity, unprecedented, perhaps. As I said, our races were not intended to procreate. That was when the clans were contracted to wipe out the Qaloch, to be sure of killing you. It took no great leap of imagination to realise that Founder descendants were the clients. The paladins, to their shame, didn’t know or didn’t care where the money came from.’
The Diamond Isle Page 27
