A Place Among the Fallen [Book One of The Omaran Saga]

by Adrian Cole

  He came quickly to her. ‘Can you find Kirrikree? He is somewhere near us.’

  Sisipher looked at Wargallow, who watched patiently with that familiar, teasing smile on his face. Korbillian made a gesture that suggested she should ignore him as well as the other Deliverers who stood like sentinels around the hall.

  'I will try,’ she said. ‘But what has happened? Is the Preserver really dead?’

  'Yes.’ He seemed prepared to say nothing else for now, and so she closed her eyes and tried to contact the great white owl. And found him. Very close, as he had promised.

  'It is safe,’ she told him. ‘Apparently the Preserver is dead.’

  'It is never safe,’ was the soft reply. ‘But I will come to you.’

  Korbillian went to the wide terrace that overlooked an outside square and watched the skies. In response to Sisipher, the great owl soon came winging down, alighting on a balustrade, flexing his wings proudly.

  Wargallow watched the huge bird, impressed. ‘A magnificent creature,’ he said. ‘And dangerous. I have seen these owls fight.’

  Kirrikree spoke in Sisipher's mind. ‘His men bear the scars of my claws. This is the most deadly of them all. Korbillian must know this.’

  Korbillian stepped forward. ‘Tell the owl,’ he said gently to the girl, ‘that Wargallow has pronounced himself an ally.’

  Sisipher and Wolgren both looked stupefied.

  Wargallow laughed. ‘It is true. I served the Preserver on pain of death. But when he sought to overcome Korbillian, he met his match.’

  Korbillian ignored Wargallow's glib explanation. ‘Ask Kirrikree what he saw on the roof of the tower.’

  Wargallow's composure wavered. Ask the bird? How was this possible?

  Kirrikree responded to Sisipher's question. ‘A Deliverer, bent on killing Korbillian with an arrow dipped in poison.’

  'Who killed the assassin?’ said Wolgren aloud.

  Korbillian frowned. ‘What do you mean, boy?’ he asked gently.

  'Kirrikree attacked him, but there was another archer. His arrow killed the man. He died before he hit the courtyard.’

  Korbillian turned suspiciously upon Wargallow. ‘What do you know of this?’

  'The youth must be mistaken,’ said the latter in consternation. ‘Are you sure, boy?’

  'I heard the arrow, and I saw the man stiffen suddenly,’ said Wolgren.

  'Sisipher?’ asked Korbillian.

  'I didn't hear anything, but Wolgren told me at the time.’

  'What did Kirrikree see?’ asked Korbillian.

  The great owl could confirm no more than that he had severed the rope, intending to attack it twice, but one slash of his talons had done the work. He had not seen nor heard another archer.

  Wargallow, masking his shock at discovering that the girl could communicate with the owl, went on with his deception. ‘We have recovered the body. Falling from such a height it has been badly damaged. But there was no arrow I assure you.’

  'Perhaps I ought to see the body myself,’ said Korbillian.

  'It has been disposed of.’

  'Convenient,’ whispered Kirrikree's voice to Sisipher.

  'I do not see what this implies,’ Wargallow went on, his face seemingly innocent. ‘Who would have wanted to kill the assassin?’

  'Not the Preserver,’ said Korbillian. ‘Since the assassin was his. Someone who obviously wanted me to survive the assassination attempt. They would not have known that Kirrikree was watching.’

  'But I found no evidence that the assassin had been killed by an arrow!’ Wargallow protested. ‘The boy has a strong imagination.’

  Korbillian considered for a while. Best, he thought, not to pursue this now. But Wargallow has used me. I am sure that it is through him that Grenndak was trapped, and murdered. That would have suited Wargallow. He turned to Sisipher and Wolgren and explained briefly the events of the night. He said nothing about having been manipulated. ‘Grenndak made two attempts on my life, and both times was thwarted. Wargallow could have lent his own strength to Grenndak's and very likely have achieved my death, but he did not. Therefore, I am in his debt.’ Let him feel that, and think that I feel I can trust him. ‘The guards that took me before Grenndak were loyal to Wargallow and had not Grenndak been blind they would have cut my arms from me. After that, my death would have followed.’

  'I think not,’ whispered Kirrikree to the girl, who shivered.

  'Wargallow has turned from his master,’ said Korbillian. ‘He is prepared to help me in my quest in an attempt to destroy what lies in the east. Well, Wargallow, perhaps you would be good enough to tell us why it is that you are prepared to help.’

  Wargallow smiled. ‘You imply that I have a choice.’

  'You do.’

  'By destroying the Preserver, you have left the Deliverers without a ruler, although word of his death remains a secret. Let us keep it so. So far I have allowed it to be shared only with those few who are loyal to me. I would welcome the leadership of the Deliverers. I will not deny that. But if the Abiding Word is to be refuted, the laws of a score of lifetimes removed, I will be seriously questioned. My choice is to find a new way of life for my people, as you, Korbillian, will not tolerate the old one. This teaching that the destruction of all power is crucial to the well being of Omara is widely believed. I cannot change that in a night. But the chosen Deliverers will follow me to the east and war on the evil powers there.’ He turned to the girl and the youth. ‘I do not expect you to feel anything but distrust, scorn, for me and my men, but I can only apologise for the discomfort you have suffered at my hands. Remember, though, that by the codes I followed, I should have given the blood of you both to the earth when I found you. I did not, and that judgement has proved sound.’

  Both were too surprised to reply. Wargallow turned back to Korbillian. ‘So what is your intention?’

  'How many men can you muster?’

  'Give me a day and you can have a thousand. There will be more each day, but I will have much work to do to prepare them. We must cross the Silences, and that will not be lightly done. We must equip ourselves with great care.’

  One of his guards detached himself from the shadows and Wargallow excused himself to speak privately with the man.

  Wolgren drew close to Korbillian. ‘Can he truly wish to ride with us? As an ally?’

  'He has his reasons. And he is curious about the eastern power.’

  'I will never trust him,’ whispered Sisipher.

  Wargallow came to them again, having issued brief instructions to his guard. ‘Interesting news. I have been wondering about the Emperor of Goldenisle and his intentions.’

  'Quanar Remoon?’ said Korbillian.

  'Not in person. But, as you know, he has many troops in the lands of the Three Rivers. It seems the Direkeep is to be honoured by a visit. Apparently an army approaches, and my scouts tell me it is well prepared for a siege.’

  PART FOUR

  THE SILENCES

  * * *

  16

  MORRIC ELBERON

  Morric Elberon stripped off his armour and put aside his sword. He helped himself to a ladleful of water from a wide pitcher and having drunk, splashed some unceremoniously over himself. He was a tall, large man, muscles visibly hardened by exercise, and he looked capable of rebuffing any potential attack. He moved surprisingly lightly on his feet, but there was something dangerous about him. His face was rounded, his eyes clear, and in his expression was that which spoke of a man born to command, a man others would respect. He had noticed Ygromm with Brannog, but he had not reacted visibly. He was not a man prone to outburst and whatever his thoughts, they remained closed.

  'News?’ said Guile, as if he were expecting some.

  'Little. But Wargallow's party has crossed the Camonile and must be near the Direkeep by now. Ruan was a damn fool to let them go.’

  'I don't think so,’ said Guile. ‘Korbillian can look after himself, and his own.’ He smiled reassuringly at Br
annog. ‘I say again, I am sure your daughter will be safe.’ He turned back to Elberon. ‘We have a number of guests. This is Brannog, from the village of Sundhaven, and he is the father of Sisipher. He has been following us. On his journey he met Ygromm, who is of the Earthwrought race.’ Guile said something about the little man.

  Elberon came forward with a friendly nod and offered his hand to Brannog. ‘We will do all that we can to protect the girl,’ he said seriously, and Brannog read honesty in the man's gaze. Elberon bent to Ygromm. ‘Welcome, Ygromm. I know nothing of your people, but Guile has told me that we are to be allies. Will you take my hand in friendship?’

  Ygromm was almost overcome. He could not believe that so many powerful overmen would offer friendship rather than the expected hostility. He shook hands solemnly, his hand swallowed up in Elberon's immense fist, but there was gentleness in the big man's grip.

  'The Earthwrought are indeed anxious to form an alliance,’ said Guile. ‘And I am equally anxious to extend good relations between us. In these matters we have the perfect ambassador in Brannog.’

  'Do they know why we are here?’

  'Not yet, but now that you have returned, I must explain. Since you, Brannog and Ygromm have been good enough to furnish me with details of how you came to be here, I must return the compliment. I have to confess that the story I told in Sundhaven was incomplete. I hope, when I have expanded it, you will understand my reasons for subterfuge.’

  Brannog nodded. ‘It is clear from your familiarity with this army that your meeting with it was no chance one.’

  Elberon chuckled. ‘But he has been more than a little lucky.’

  Guile also grinned. ‘You recall I spoke of flight from the Emperor?’

  'As I recall,’ said Brannog, ‘it was banishment.’

  'I did not lie about that. But it was how I tricked Quanar Remoon. In fact I was fleeing. I was not able to leave Goldenisle of my own volition, so I had to find a way of confusing the Emperor so that he would send me away. It was his Administrators that I had to trick, for they rule the Empire.’ He then recounted a little of the story of his leaving Goldenisle for Ygromm's benefit. ‘What Korbillian did not know, and what I have not divulged, is that there is a move afoot to overthrow Quanar Remoon. As an Emperor he is hopeless, though an ideal puppet for his Administrators. The poor man really is quite insane, through no fault of his own, and is not capable of ruling the Empire. His Administrators are a poor lot, greedy and grasping, and between them they will carve up and ruin the Empire before many more years pass. Fortunately there are sensible men alive who understand this, men like Morric here, who is, or was until his defection, Supreme Commander of the Twenty Armies. Actually there were three armies, but Quanar insisted that he knew of twenty at least, hence the extravagant title.’ He grinned again at Elberon, who nodded patiently. ‘Most of Quanar's relatives are dead. Never a very strong family, with far too many hereditary flaws, and a number of them have disappeared, somewhat mysteriously—”

  'The Administrators?’ said Brannog.

  'I am sure of it. But there is a cousin, whose birthright would be hotly disputed. Ottemar Remoon, who could prove his claim conclusively given the right circumstances.’

  Elberon guffawed at this. ‘Aye, at the point of a sword.’

  Guile ignored him. ‘Ottemar knew that Morric would support him, and so the first plans were hatched. Ottemar was secretly snatched from his place of imprisonment and now waits at a place known to only a few loyal supporters. Morric had word put out that he himself had been vanquished in one of the remote but imaginary “wars” that the Emperor was so fond of. Morric came here, where Empire men had not been previously. After all, no one was interested in what was thought to be a dreary continent. Gradually Morric arranged for more and more men to defect, until he built up an entire army. With ships he was able to pirate other Empire vessels, and often the crews were more than happy to join Morric. Well, the army is now almost ready to move against the Emperor.’

  'And what is your place?’ asked Brannog.

  'I am one of Ottemar's most trusted spies. The Administrators were suspicious of everyone, and I doubt if I could have escaped them but for the affair with Korbillian. Even the Administrators have to obey Quanar.’

  'And Korbillian knows nothing of this?’

  'Indeed not! I gave strict orders that my identity should be kept secret. Morric and his troops knew I would be coming, hence the search.’

  'As well we were searching,’ grunted Elberon. ‘Since you fell foul of Wargallow's killers.’

  'Yes, an unnerving experience. I'm afraid that Wargallow, Korbillian and the others were all led to believe that I had been captured by men anxious to punish me for some unmentioned “crime” against the Emperor. Ruan deceived them very well. I'm sure he was wise to avoid battle, though Morric here would likely have gone in breathing fire.’

  Elberon snorted. ‘You are not the only man in Ottemar's camp capable of stealth.’

  'But what of Korbillian's cause?’ said Brannog. ‘I have sworn to enjoin this war on the east, as has Ygromm. The Earthwrought will follow us. Where does Ottemar stand in this?’

  Guile nodded understandingly. ‘It is a difficult situation. I have not been permitted to go before Ottemar, but I have sent a full report. He has fortunately agreed that the matter should be pursued. Firstly, I am anxious to be reunited with Korbillian. And with Sisipher and Wolgren. Their safety means much to me.’

  'And Wargallow?’ said Brannog.

  'We shall see. I have Ottemar's permission to ride upon this Direkeep. It may even be necessary to besiege it.’

  For once Morric Elberon was not laughing, his brows clouded. ‘Damned waste of time! The place is well fortified. We would lose many men.’

  'If you should rescue my daughter,’ said Brannog, ‘and release Korbillian and Wolgren, what then?’

  'Ah, that is a real question. I will need to go before Ottemar, if I can persuade a certain bull-headed Commander that it is necessary! But for now it is better to get some rest and begin afresh tomorrow. Your people are comfortable, Ygromm? If there is anything they need, please let me know.’

  Ygromm bowed, not sure how to behave in front of this overman who evidently had great rank among his own people. ‘You have been most generous,’ he nodded. The Earthwrought had been provided with a place of their own in the camp, a hollow protected from the prying eyes of inquisitive soldiery. Ruan had been told to see that nobody disturbed them, and had provided them with water, which was all they had seemed to want.

  'We will talk at length shortly after daybreak,’ Guile told Brannog.

  'Very well, but you will understand my anxiety to go on to the Direkeep with all haste.’

  Guile nodded. ‘We leave promptly, I promise.’

  As Brannog and Ygromm left the tent, Elberon was frowning. ‘You speak again of the Direkeep. Why must we concern ourselves with it?’

  Guile helped himself to wine. After his journey, it tasted like nectar. ‘It is Korbillian that concerns me, Morric. It must be very difficult for you to comprehend what he is, and what he has. Have you ever encountered power?’

  'Sorcery?’

  'If you like. Power to control the elements, to raise or subdue a storm? Such things are not believed possible in Omara.’

  'No. Wargallow's people kill those who accept such things.’

  'Indeed they do. But Korbillian has power, believe me. What it is that he carries in his hands is beyond me.’ He sipped thoughtfully at his wine. ‘But I am sure of this, it can withstand anything the Direkeep throws against it.’

  'Then why consider wasting men to rescue him if he does not need you!’

  'For two reasons. On the one hand, I have seen other powers, an evil in the east that could be, as Korbillian believes, a threat to us all. Greater by far than Quanar's regime. Korbillian's power will go against it, but he needs help. Secondly there is our cause. If I am seen to attempt to aid Korbillian, even though he needs no
aid to free himself from the keep, he will remember it well. If we had him with us when we sail upon Quanar, Morric! I have seen him control the very sea! He would ensure our success, I swear it. That is why I have tied myself to him for so long.’

  'He knows nothing of your part in the rebellion?’

  'Nor of the rebellion. But I will explain it all to him.’

  'And if he refuses to help?’

  'How can he, if we help him in the east?’

  Morric's frown deepened. ‘The east? You would take men there?’

  'I will need several hundred of your best men.’

  Elberon looked amazed. ‘Oh, is that all?’

  'Not quite. I want you to lead them.’

  Elberon groaned. ‘This is madness. We have spent a long time preparing this army—”

  'And is it ready to sail?’

  'Not yet. But in less than a year—”

  'That's all that's needed for this affair in the east. Less. I feel sure that Ottemar will grant me permission.’

  Elberon chuckled. ‘Yes, I'm sure he will.’

  'We have potential allies in Ygromm's folk.’

  Elberon scoffed. ‘Half-men? They are like children.’

  'I am not prepared to dismiss them so easily. This continent is full of strange things.’ He finished his wine. ‘I had forgotten how truly wonderful this wine could be. Now I will sleep. You'd better begin preparing troops for the ride to the Direkeep. We'll test the Preserver's strength.’

  Ygromm's people were relieved to see him again, for they were uneasy in the camp of the overmen, surrounded as they were by them. Ruan had ensured that the soldiers kept away, telling the men that it seemed likely they would be on the move soon. Many of them were restless, bored by the inactivity and eager to ride to war, or at least to the Direkeep, for rumour had quickly spread that the place was to be attacked. Several men had asked Ruan about Ottemar's spy, but Ruan said little about it, enjoying the secrecy and his part in it.