Storbanther limply turned and carried on to the quadrangle. All he could see there were priests aimlessly standing about in small groups. His sudden appearance had obviously stymied fevered talk so the place almost stank of silence.
The door priest had followed him in. “Lord Nephril’s in your chambers, Sentinar. If you’ll excuse our imposition, we thought it prudent to accommodate him there … oh, and we’ve furnished him with some refreshment, if you’ll excuse the further liberty.”
“Very well, sergeant. Thee can get back to yer duties now.”
As Storbanther’s legs carried him leadenly back into the passage and up the steps to his chambers, he felt unsettled. His mind seemed to have lost its power to think. He’d managed to gain some semblance of sense, though, by the time he arrived at his door and pushed it open.
At first the room appeared as empty as when he’d left it. That very thought made him look around in case he’d left anything out on view, anything he’d have preferred kept secret, especially from Lord Nephril? All that seemed out of place was the top of a head seen over the back of one of the chairs by the fireplace.
Nephril’s voice then came from that very same place. “Good morning, Storbanther. I hope I find thee well?”
Storbanther’s mouth was still dry and he’d to swallow once or twice to find his voice. “I am indeed, Lord Nephril, well enough. An’ thee, is thee well an’ all?”
Nephril rose and turned to face him, presenting a look that rattled Storbanther with its composure and keenness of eye. “I am pleased to find thee in such good health, and … and so active in thy pursuits. A busy little bee thou hast been, from what I can gather.” Storbanther couldn’t decide how best to answer. “Do come in, Storbanther, and close the door behind thee, if thou would be so kind. I think we have much to talk about, thee and me, much to discuss, eh?”
Seeing Nephril now so composed gave Storbanther a sudden insight, one that touched sharply on their problems with the gate and his suspicions about interference.
Nephril sat back down. “Sit by me, come, keep me company and speak with me.” Storbanther found his legs obedient and so sat down. “The time hath come for us two to be plain and open with one another, wouldst thou not agree?”
Storbanther just looked into the flames of the hearth’s fire.
“I know what thou art, Storbanther. I know thy birth and fashion, and do suspect it be allied to mine self in some way … some Bazarran way perchance?”
Storbanther turned his head to Nephril, but it revealed an unexpected expression. It seemed, oddly enough, filled with pity. “Take care, Nephril, take great care that thee don’t open a can o’ worms that won’t be to yer liking.”
“What makes thee say that, Storbanther, eh? Why the concern for me?
“Why’s thee think we ain’t crossed paths ‘til recent, eh, Nephril? I reckon thee’s already suspected t’answer, why I’ve ‘ad to keep clear o’ thee all this time.”
“So! I was right after all, thou hast always been there yet always hidden.”
“Aye, I ‘ave, and ‘idden for a reason, one thee’s presence ‘ere’s likely to stretch a bit too far.”
When Nephril looked questioningly at him, Storbanther dropped his look of pity, leaving a disquietingly blank expression in its place. What unsettled Nephril more was the change in Storbanther’s voice. “I was wrought only to deal with Galgaverrans, Nephril, nothing more subtle than that. I purposely kept out of your way because I’m ill-equipped to deal with you, it’s as simple as that.”
The flat and emotionless way he spoke somehow unnerved Nephril, stirred the hairs on his neck. “You look surprised, Nephril. Well, it’s pointless pretending. As you’re obviously intending staying awhile you’d only end up seeing through my thin veneer of Bazarran. So, at long last, here I am, naked before you.”
Nephril stared at him, trying to read what had suddenly become unreadable. “No point you trying to understand me, Nephril, for I’m not really here, certainly not as the person I appear to be. Smoke and mirrors, you see.”
“What art thou really, Storbanther? What gives thee purpose?”
“You know that already, Nephril, I’m Leiyfiantel’s limb, set here by the ancient Bazarran Stewards to curb your meddling.”
“My meddling!” Nephril almost shouted.
“Hmm. See what I mean? I seem to have upset you already. You’re going to have to grit your teeth more if we’re to prolong this chat, you know. You see, I’m quite likely to upset you without knowing. Problem dealing with those still as nature intended.”
“Unlike Galgaverrans, eh, Storbanther?”
“Indeed, Nephril, indeed you’re right.”
“Why the feigned pity earlier then, Storbanther? What be the reason?”
“Ah, yes. Glad you reminded me. In my rather naïve way I was trying to put you off learning the truth. I’ve been wrought only to manipulate, you see, not to lie.”
“Be that truth or bluff?”
“I really am quite bad at lying, you know. I have tried, but with appalling results. You’d see right through me in no time.”
He tilted his head at Nephril, as though an expression should appear, but his face stayed blank. “I reckon you’ve already reasoned out the true answer to your question anyway.”
Nephril remembered the Aerie Way and the revelation he’d had there, after seeing the grey head, then looked at the truth of it sitting before him. “Thou art Leiyatel at large, aye, that much I have reasoned, and thou hast already called thyself her limb, which I had also guessed, but it still doth not say to me what thou art about.”
“Ah. Yes. That very human need to know why. The trouble is, Nephril, we’re just an engine, Leiyatel and me, just the doer of others’ wishes. I am some of her eyes and ears, some of her arms and legs, but more importantly, her memory and voice.”
“Her memory?”
“Yes, Nephril, her only memory. Her only part that can remember, the small bit of Bazarran she carries by dint of myself.”
Nephril understood what he was saying, but still couldn’t see his need for pity, however contrived, but then a conclusion forced itself upon him. “What dost Leiyatel remember that could possibly hurt me so, eh, Storbanther, and why tell me at all, why not just refuse me?”
“Ah. Hmm. Well, there you’ve got me. You see … well … we’ve only just realised we now need you. Having spent so long trying to get rid of you, we find we’re now stuck without you.”
“Stuck? Got rid of? What dost thou mean, got rid of me?”
“Oh dear,” he said, and feigned a sigh. “A Galgaverran would never have got me to slip like that.” He stood up and moved to the window, and there looked out at the gate. “You may not be aware, but we’ve been trying to get these damned things working.”
“So we gathered, and there be yet another thing we need discuss.”
“Ah, yes, I can see your concern. Unfortunately, it’s all tied up together with a lot of other things. I can’t talk about the gates without touching on so many areas that, as I said earlier, you’re not likely to be happy with.”
Nephril came and stood by Storbanther’s side and looked down onto Eastern Street. There seemed to be a steady stream of priests coming and going, some to the gate, others to the sconce. A lot of activity, but to what purpose?
“Storbanther?”
“Yes, Nephril?”
“Mine life hath been very long, only just longer than thine, I know, but for me it hath carried with it all the failings a man can bear, all the doubts and uncertainties. Throughout that time, Leiyatel hath been mine staff, hath held me true throughout. Can thou not see that, Storbanther? Can Leiyatel not know it through you?”
“I think we’d better sit down, eh, Nephril?”
Once more before the fire, they again sat facing one another. “You still don’t seem to understand, Nephril. We are not like you, not like anyone. We are an engine, an engine with a purpose, one given to Leiyatel by the ancient engers, ordai
ned by the Stewards, but driven through me, through my own subtle workings. We cannot care about you, Nephril, for we don’t know how.”
All that Storbanther had in his armoury now was time, time for Nephril to find his own resolve before Storbanther had to move on to more painful ground. Nephril had already suffered enough of it, a great deal of time in fact, but it had long prepared him for almost anything, even what Storbanther was now intent upon.
“Thou cannot tell me anything,” Nephril said, “that could worsen mine despair at mine own overly long life. It hast dulled mine capacity for shock, so I suggest thou speak on and worry not about mine own hurt.”
That was more than enough for Storbanther, and so he lay before Nephril the many unseen truths of his own ancient life. “You spoke of your oath to Leiyatel, but things are never that simple. You have two quite distinct and separate oaths, Nephril, one to Leiyatel, yes, but also one to the Dican line.”
“I have, yes, but the two are the same.”
“If only that had ever been so. No, Nephril, the two are quite at odds. Leiyatel has grown so weak purely because of your Dican line. It’s been Dicans who’ve drained us of our vigour, Nephril, your very own blood, the close blood of the royal line. It’s what’s always blinded you to the truth. Of all people, it’s Dicans who have always refused that truth, come what may.”
Storbanther pushed himself to his feet and turned his back to the fire.
Nephril looked up at him. “There be no dishonour in mine birth, nor in mine loyalty to its kings. ‘Twas King Belforas who bound me to mine oath, who swore me to serve Leiyatel, and all the kings since who supported mine position in Galgaverre, solely unto her succour.”
“See, Nephril, see how blinding Dican conceit can be? You were imposed on Galgaverre for a very Dican reason, put there to safeguard the royal influence and control over Leiyatel, so the Certain Power could be exploited to Dican ends alone. Your presence there was to ensure the king’s hand held the reins, and not the Stewards of Bazarral.”
He bent and threw another log on the fire. “If that wasn’t bad enough, the way it was made possible then brought about its own problems. You see, Nephril, your having weft and weave of Leiyatel, for your own protection, unbalances everything. You may very well have believed you served Leiyatel, but in actual fact, you were nothing more than grit in her wheels.”
“Grit! Grit in Leiyatel’s wheels?”
“Indeed, not unlike you are now with our gate’s engine.”
Nephril stood up and arched towards Storbanther. “Grit in her wheels! What art thou saying?”
“Oh dear. I suspect I’ve said something to hurt you again. Not intentional, I assure you, but then, I did warn you.”
“Ah! Of course. Scaedwera. The cloak. I should have realised earlier. Storbanther Scaedwera, Storbanther the cloak, like a pearl, eh? A pearl to cloak mine grit.”
“Well done, Nephril. Saved me a bit of time there. Yes, the Stewards made me to limit the damage done by your meddl… by your presence.”
Nephril sat back down, heavily, and stared at Storbanther’s blank face. “If … if I were such a problem to Galgaverre’s smooth running then why was a way not found to be rid of me?”
Storbanther sat back down himself. “Not easy, Nephril. Not easy at all. Your weft and weave, you see. Although making Leiyatel more than her sum, it was still of her, she couldn’t allow its destruction without harming herself.”
“Nouwelm! Of course, now I remember. Thou tried to send me beyond the Gray Mountains, to Nouwelm, where she would hath been shielded from me.”
Storbanther showed a flicker of an expression but it didn’t hold. “Ah. Now,” he said. “There you have me again.”
He stayed silent for a few moments, allowing mundane sounds of priestly chores to drift in to fill the space, a few close-by curses giving way to the rising call of a blackbird. When he did again speak, there seemed to be some flicker of life in his eyes. “Bit of an error on our part, Nephril, well, mine actually. Before we get to that, though, I think I need to remind you of some history. You see, it has a direct bearing on our little problem with the gates.”
Storbanther settled himself in his chair, and with no sense of irony, started to say, “In the beginning, Leiyatel was fashioned by Bazarran wit alone. They set her upon Mount Esnadac’s fire, with the sun’s radiance as food, and of course, there arose Baradcar. To nurture her bounty, they gave her the best of Bazarran care, but a special kind of Bazarran. To make sure no fault of man, of which there are many, could spoil their great work, those most suited were taken and altered for the cause, to give unselfish and unquestioning service. Naturally, we’ve now arrived at Galgaverre. So, you see, the whole installation was founded on Bazarran ways, fashioned to their needs, and only meant to be attended by them.”
“I knowest all that, Storbanther. What be thy point?”
“Hmm. This would’ve been much easier with a Galgaverran. Please, Nephril, please bear with me. Now. Ah, yes, the Dicans, your lot. Well, Dicans came from the vales and dales, not from over the sea, and had totally different views. They had desires alien to the Bazarran and therefore at odds with Leiyatel’s design. Dicans are greedy and avaricious, know no natural limit to their desires, and so quickly outnumbered and usurped Bazarral, soon bent Leiyatel to their own thoughtless use.”
“I have lived away from Dicans long enough to see right in thy words, aye, but…”
“Nephril? Please? It’s that very difference that’s near enough destroyed us, Leiyatel and me. Even if all had stayed right in Galgaverre, it would still have pulled us too thin to sustain ourselves, but then a piece of grit was dropped into our wheels. They wrought me to wrap around you, yes, but knew it would only delay the inevitable, unless we could get you out of the way. Then we’d stand a chance.”
“A chance? What chance wouldst thou have had against such Dican demands.”
A quick smile seemed, for a moment at least, to break free on Storbanther’s face. “To give the Stewards their due, they thought ahead, well ahead. They planned for a time to come, a time when Leiyatel would be near to death, slain by the sheer demand of Dican numbers.”
“And they had a pearl in which to lodge their plans, did they not? They had thee, her only memory!”
Storbanther nodded. “Aye, I were originally brought into being to protect Leiyatel from you, but they then found another use for me.”
“So, Storbanther, what was Nouwelm to Leiyatel, and why dost she court them now?”
“Ah. Well. Now you’ve drawn us nearer my confession. You see, Nouwelm was where the Repository was built.”
“The Repository?”
“Yes, the refuge for all the knowledge needed to rebuild Leiyatel, you know, after her demise, when Dica would have finally withered with her passing. Everything had been got there, ready to be sealed when the last and most important thing had been deposited.”
Nephril gasped. “And I was to be that thing’s bearer, was I not?”
The smile that had fleetingly appeared earlier now returned and showed faint embarrassment on Storbanther’s face. “You were indeed, Nephril, but as you’ll have gathered, I’m not good at all at handling Dicans. That last important item was a template, Leiyatel’s very structure, a seed to regrow the Certain Power. I got it to your keeping and made sure you knew of it’s great importance, without giving away what it really was, of course.”
“And I believed thee, did I not, and more fool me?”
“You did indeed, swallowed the subterfuge that sent you to Nouwelm, along the Lost Northern Way when it still passed through the Gray Mountains, when the Certain Power was still strong enough to keep the pass open, or so we thought.”
Nephril remembered back all that time and vaguely recalled his journey north. He just about remembered the forest and their climb onto the Strawbac Hills, had dim memories of the long hard slog ever upwards into the great pass. He could remember no more, though.
“You never got to Nouwelm,
Nephril, but then it didn’t really matter much. You see, you didn’t end up taking the template with you. You left it with Auldus, your nephew, and there you see my own failing.” Storbanther then actually did sigh quite convincingly.
“You reasoned it to be too precious to risk losing abroad and so left it here, in Galgaverre. You see, a Bazarran would’ve simply followed instructions but you saw more, reasoned beyond where I could go. I’ve often tried to excuse my mistake by saying how little I understand of the minds of men, and maybe it’s true, but it doesn’t detract from my failure. Anyway, the upshot was, you couldn’t very well deliver what you didn’t bear.”
The room fell silent again until Nephril asked, “Why was my nephew, Auldus, killed? What purpose did it serve?”
“I knew Auldus would never give it up to anyone but you. We couldn’t allow that for the template itself was corrosive to Leiyatel. If it couldn’t be held safe in Nouwelm then it had to be got rid of, and that’s where Dican nature played into our hands.”
Nephril wailed. “Oh no, now I see it all, now I see how thou didst use Dican nature to thine own ends, how thou built accusation against Auldus and did connive to bring about his conviction, knowing full well he would choose the noble way. Thou dissembled to rid thyself of thine accursed slip through mine own nephew’s death!”
“I think I’ve hurt you again, haven’t I, Nephril?”
When Nephril just sat, staring into the distance, Storbanther seemed to think it appropriate to place his hand on Nephril’s arm. Nephril slowly lifted his eyes to him. “Thou said thy had need of me, for thine gates I believe?”
Storbanther withdrew his hand. “Nephril? Do you accept Leiyatel’s salvation lies in returning the Repository’s knowledge?”
“I do, but I do also wonder if there still be wit for its use.”
“And there we have the crux of the matter.”
One of the logs on the fire then slipped and crackled loudly, sending a shower of sparks onto the hearth where they glowed momentarily before winking out. Small plumes of smoke drifted from them into the pull of the chimney.
Leiyatel's Embrace (Dica Series Book 1) Page 36
