OrbSoul (Book 6)

by Martin Ash

  Much of their conversation would certainly have passed over Radius's head, for he was not a boy of great brain. On the other hand . . . Pader groaned. Fectur might know far more than they would wish.

  He would have to speak to Radius again.

  Pader felt such anger at the boy. Foolish! Irresponsible! He passed an unsteady hand across his eyes. So much dreadful, interminable intrigue! So much senseless conflict!

  His thoughts led him to Mawnie again, and it struck him just then that he had not seen anything of Lir, Mawnie's infant daughter, in the Duchess's apartment. Was she in the care of her governess, or a nurse? Had she been told about her mother's death? Perhaps she was still asleep in her own cot.

  Pader summoned an aide and dispatched him with some urgency to check upon Lir's well-being. He was haunted by the terrible thought that Lir might have suffered the same fate as her mother.

  But why? What could lie behind it?

  And it was then that Pader was hit by a notion that made him sit suddenly bolt upright. His mind sped and spun. He half rose from his seat, and found he could move no more but was paralyzed in horrified disbelief. He thought again, over and over, of everything that Mawnie had been witnessed to utter in her delirium, everything that had been reported to him. And he recalled Issul's account of that terrible day on Sentinel's Peak, and the awful events that had followed, their full nature kept secret from all. It was on that fateful day that the world of Enchantment's Reach had been pitched unknowingly into the madness and conflict that embroiled it now. And Pader, cold in the clutch of sudden fierce and profound shock, shook his head from side to side, desperate to dismiss the notion that had thrust itself so forcefully into his mind. It was madness; he was becoming unhinged. It was impossible.

  But the thought refused to leave him. And for long minutes he remained as he was, rigid, floundering in the turmoil within. And when, subsequently, he learned that little Lir could not be found, he began to understand that his worst fears might now have been confirmed.

  *

  Later in the morning Pader Luminis was visited by Lord Fectur. With some surprise Pader noted the Lord High Invigilate's discomposure. Fectur was gaunt and pale. Dark rings encircled his eyes. His grey hair was neither bound nor combed, and angry red blotches coloured the skin of his forehead and cheek. His lips were tightly compressed and downturned at the corners. He confronted Pader with a hard and icy glare. 'Lord Protector,' Fectur began, laying heavy irony on the second word, 'it seems we continue to be assailed and do nothing to defend ourselves.'

  'We have defended ourselves, my lord, as you are most surely aware,' replied Pader evenly. 'The cost has been high, admittedly, but never have we imagined that withstanding this assault would be a simple task.'

  'Our enemy mocks us, it seems to me.'

  'Perhaps. But who, precisely, is our enemy? For you must know that we have been struck from within, as well as without.'

  'You refer to the Duchess?'

  'I do.'

  'Aye, it is an evil affair. My people are investigating.'

  'As are mine,' said Pader, barely able to contain his emotions. 'Who, I wonder, will turn up the true culprit?'

  Fectur glowered. Pader went on, 'How could such a monstrous crime have been committed, my lord? Right here, within the Palace. Right under your nose.'

  Fectur's eyes narrowed to become barely more than slits. 'As I said, I have yet to discover.'

  'The suspects cannot be many, my lord. For surely, as Master of Security, you must have been aware at all times of all persons who came and went from her chambers?'

  'That is so,' Fectur replied sourly, grinding his teeth. 'But the crime occurred during a momentary lapse, a brief moment when the Duchess Demawndella - in blatant violation of my instructions - was left alone. The felon knew precisely when to make his - or her - move. But be assured, the murderer will be apprehended and will pay the price, as will any staff members found guilty of dereliction.'

  'I wish to interview them before any price of your devising is paid,' said Pader. He thought of the red-headed nurse, most probably essentially an innocent, who now ran the terrible risk of becoming Fectur's scapegoat. Did she, or any others, have a tale to tell? If so, Fectur would be at pains to ensure it could never be told, other than on his own terms. 'Be very clear on that score,' Pader added. He made a mental note to have the nurse held over in his own custody. But he thought also of the dreadful notion that had assailed him earlier, and was gripped still with turmoil and terrible doubt.

  Fectur nodded almost indiscernibly, showing no expression. 'Of course.'

  Now Pader let his anger show. 'The welfare of the Duchess Demawndella was your responsibility, Lord Fectur. The entire royal family, in fact. You have failed them all. And you have failed me.'

  A muscle twitched on Fectur's cheek; his upper lip tightened. 'Both the King and the Queen acted entirely against my advice, as you well know. They overruled all objections that I placed before them, and in certain instances acted without my knowledge.'

  'Still. . .' Pader hesitated. So many questions in his mind. What could he believe? 'The fact is, my lord, that the Duchess's death places me in a very difficult position. In combination with all else it forces me to review, most seriously, the issue of internal security.'

  Fectur's face darkened. A vein pulsed dangerously at his right temple. He stepped up close to Pader, his eyes boring into the little Murinean's. '"Review . . . internal security?” Are you aware to whom you speak, Lord Protector?'

  'Fully aware, my lord. And fully aware also of the breaches in security that are tearing this kingdom apart.' Pader Luminis was hard-put not to quail under Fectur's baleful gaze. In the Lord-High Invigilate's eye he saw murder. He saw the capacity for any crime of any magnitude. He saw . . . something, dreadful, shocking and unnameable. Something utterly distant, pitiless and devoid of any understanding of human warmth or need. Pader recoiled within himself, yet somehow stood his ground.

  'I think you are wrong, Lord Protector,' said Fectur quietly through clenched teeth. 'I think it is the misguided, irresponsible actions of those who rule, or try to, that are tearing apart the kingdom. They place almost unbearable strain upon the Security Service.'

  'The fact remains,' said Pader, 'that neither I, as Protector, nor King Leth nor Queen Issul, know any longer who we can trust.'

  Fectur's gaze bored unblinkingly into him for some moments more, then he turned away. 'You suspect my hand in Mawnie's murder, do you not?'

  'I have considered every possibility.'

  'Well, be certain that in me you chase the wrong prey. Ask yourself, Why? Why? What could I possibly gain by such an act?'

  'I have not failed to ask myself that question.'

  'And what answer have you arrived at?'

  'I confess, nothing that satisfies. Still, it is true, is it not, that you endeavoured to interrogate her whilst she remained under the influence of her dementia?'

  'Interrogate? I would class it more in the nature of a conversation between friends.'

  'And in the course of that conversation, did you learn anything of interest?'

  'Nothing. She raved.'

  'But you did not deem it unwise to leave a flask of strong spirit in her possession. Even in her distressed state?'

  'Precisely. Fortification, comfort and relief.'

  Pader held his tongue. He had learned that, after Fectur's visit, Mawnie had become voluble indeed under the influence of the plum spirit. Whether in her delirium or drunkenness she had revealed anything of importance - whether in fact she had anything to reveal - Pader had still been unable to ascertain. He was in no doubt, though, that Fectur had agents placed close to Mawnie.

  But had he killed her?

  Or . . .

  Fectur's quiet rage seemed to have passed, at least for the moment. He observed Pader with a mocking half-smile.

  'Do you know of the whereabouts of the Duchess's daughter, Lir?' Pader asked, his voice shaking.

  'I do
not. Why?'

  'I have been unable to locate her. She has not been seen since last night. I thought perhaps you might know something, for again, her welfare is of course your concern.'

  Is there a connection here?

  'I will initiate an immediate search. No doubt she is hiding in a cupboard somewhere, or behind an arras or beneath a discarded blanket. She is usually to be found somewhere where she is not supposed to be.'

  'Should your searchers be more successful than mine, you will not fail to have her brought to me.'

  'It goes without saying.'

  'Or should you by other means meet with knowledge of her whereabouts.'

  'Other means?'

  'I do not question your resourcefulness, my lord.' Pader inhaled a deep breath. His ribcage had grown tight, his lungs constricted.

  'I note the absence of your faithful bodyguard,' observed Fectur. 'A pity. I had relished the opportunity of meeting him again.'

  Pader glanced towards the door, beyond which a squad of guards stood in attendance. 'Kol's injuries, by a miracle, are not serious. He should be back on duty within a couple of days.'

  Post guards at Kol's bedside! thought Pader with sudden, renewed disquiet. By all the spirits and all the gods who may ever have existed, not one of us is safe!

  'Intriguing,' said Fectur, 'that the Queen should see fit to bestow such high status and extraordinary responsibility upon a stranger, a man she met for the first time but days ago. Don't you think?'

  'It is yet another measure of the uncertainty and distrust she feels within her own home. She no longer knows who she can rely upon. But Kol has proven himself to her over and over again. As he has to me.'

  'Still, it is unorthodox. And of course, Kol is not the only stranger to have risen suddenly to such privileged rank. What of this Shenwolf, a common soldier, no less. Recruited from . . . who knows where? And the other, a Murinean, like yourself - Phisusandra is his name?'

  'Like Kol, they are men who have demonstrated to the Queen their loyalty, reliability and willingness, if necessary, to die for her,' replied Pader edgily.

  'They were prisoners of the Karai!' declared Fectur. 'Has it not occurred to you - did it not occur to the Queen - that these men might have been planted?'

  The notion startled Pader Luminis. 'Planted? By whom?'

  'Our enemy, Lord Protector. Who else?'

  'I- I deem that highly unlikely.'

  'But can you be absolutely sure? With things as they are? Just look at them. Look at where they are now. A canny foe could hardly have wished for more.'

  Pader shook his head adamantly. 'I respect the Queen's judgement in regard to these men.'

  'Be it on your own head, then. But be certain that not all of us are so willingly or wittingly seduced.'

  'Do you make accusations, sir?'

  'I voice my concern, nothing more.'

  Pader swallowed hard. Fectur went on, 'This Shenwolf, in particular, enjoys a measure of intimacy with the Queen that I find shocking and distasteful. I ask myself, why? So suddenly? And just how far do their confidences and intimacies extend?'

  'I believe you will find nothing improper.'

  'Believe? Is belief not your enemy, Lord Protector? You, whose professed goal is Knowledge and Truth?'

  'Lord Fectur, you talk of conspiracy and suspicion. I would rather have facts.'

  Fectur slowly shook his head, his eyes not leaving Pader's. 'No, my lord. I talk of the possibility of treasonable acts.'

  'Treasonable! Bah! You sow seeds of doubt against those who are not present to put forth their own defence. You readily declare guilt where none is proven, or even suspected.'

  'I am alert to all potentials. Anything less would be unnaceptable.'

  'You would be better employed devoting your very considerable powers to eradicating the threats that are here, with us, now, both outside our walls and within.'

  Fectur nodded. 'To that end I wish to inform you that I may be - ahem - not easily located within the foreseeable days. I am undertaking a journey.'

  'A journey?' Again Pader knew dismay. 'Where?'

  Fectur lifted a hand and pointed with one finger to the ground. 'Below.'

  'Overlip? For what reason?'

  'Certain information has come to light which I deem worthy of investigation.'

  'I should be informed. What is this information?'

  'In due course, Lord Protector. At present there is nothing I can confirm. And it would be unwise to disclose the nature of the quest, given the circumstances. After all,' he gestured around him, 'we do not know who we may trust, and the walls may surely listen even as we speak.'

  'You go to the True Sept?' Pader was near-incredulous. 'You, of all people, will be in great danger down there.'

  'I am aware of the risks. However, under certain specifics, measures may be taken to reduce them.'

  'My own men must accompany you.'

  'No, Lord Protector. I go alone.'

  'When?'

  'At the time of my choosing. I deem it unwise to say more. And please do not attempt to have me followed. My agents will deal summarily with any persons they consider to be acting suspiciously. It may be difficult to distinguish between friend and foe. Now, I have much to do. I bid you good-day.'

  Lord Fectur turned and walked from the room, leaving Pader mutely staring after him, filled once again with deepest misgivings and the sense that he could not stand against the task that had been laid upon him.

  TWO

  i

  So it had not been a dream!

  Prince Anzejarl was on one knee before the open chest, his strange white face puckered in conflict and his gorgeous eyes wide in the recognition of revelation.

  Not a dream!

  With the passing of turbulent days and nights and the progress of his campaign of unerring conquest, Anzejarl had had more than inklings that this was so. He had been reluctant to admit it to himself, but the dreams . . . there was a quality to them that was persuasive and almost tangible; they lingered dangerously in his mind, and did not vary. The dreams were one dream, repeated over and over, more like a memory. A memory of something recurrent and real.

  Now here was the proof.

  Anzejarl had agonized with himself before finally committing himself to the search.

  Agonized!

  That a Karai warrior - a Karai prince! - should know such indecision was evidence of just how much of a change he had undergone. To agonize, to be irresolute, to question the validity of the simple act that his mind told him he must undertake . . . Prince Anzejarl bristled with deepest indignation.

  The Gift! Awakening! What have I become?

  For a moment his focus shifted. He thought of his human enemies crouched high above, behind the massive protecting walls of Enchantment's Reach. Anzejarl drew back his lips, baring his teeth. Leth, how you will know my sword! How your beloved city will burn!

  Anzejarl shuddered. His attention was pulled back to the small pale rose-coloured crystal that he gripped between the fingers and thumb of one hand. He stared at it feverishly.

  What did it signify?

  He had found the crystal deep in Olmana's bound oak chest, secreted among her clothing and personal effects. It was opaque, dull even, approximately ovoid in shape but roughly hewn and quite unremarkable to the eye. But in Olmana's hands Anzejarl had seen it changed when she was not aware that he saw. He had seen it pulse with a fierce red effulgence.

  Or he believed he had. The crystal now was dormant, showing no trace of the weird force that it had emitted then.

  Olmana . . . what did she do?

  Olmana holding the red crystal over him, chanting in some unknown and incomprehensible tongue. . . And he had felt drugged and helpless, unable or unwilling to move, heavy with sleep and yet somehow not sleeping, not dreaming. Not entirely.

  And then Olmana transformed - a grey-skinned creature, like nothing he had seen. Eldritch and terrible, a thing of nightmare and malevolence. She had touched the cold cr
ystal to Anzejarl's forehead and its red radiance had drained into him, overcoming the last remnants of his consciousness, sending him into dark oblivion.

  How many times?

  He had been aware - if it truly was awareness - perhaps a dozen times, maybe less. But he knew that Olmana performed ministrations upon him each night when he slept. She had made no secret of it. It was by this means that he received his Gift, and by this means it was maintained. Thus was he able to command slooths and troll-creatures, and who knew what other potent allies she might call from within Enchantment?

  Anzejarl turned the crystal in his fingers, suddenly doubting. So much in his mind these days that had not been there before. Crowding; distracting. Was he prey to his imagination? The crystal was nondescript, lifeless and cold. Could it really have emitted such effulgence? Or could he have dreamed, after all? Could it be that the stone was just some inconsequential gem?

  Anzejarl shook his head, expelling the doubt. He gripped the crystal tightly in his fist.

  Cursed rock!

  So if this rosy crystal was the effectuary, the key, what did it mean? What did it signify? Why did he feel such concern? Why did he have such a craving to know?

  Concern . . . Craving . . . Again, these were concepts virtually alien to a Karai, at least in the form that he knew them now. A prompting to get things done, a sense of purpose, of duty and destiny. . . these things Prince Anzejarl understood. But these others. . . unknown infestations teeming in his mind . . .

  Again he closed his eyes, the Karai in him stepping back to observe the storm of emotions that raged and threatened to burst out of his confining skin. He dwelt for long moments in a renewed passion of hatred for his enemy above. How he would make them suffer when finally he breached their walls and entered their city! And Leth, yes, it would be Leth upon whom he would wreak his most terrible vengeance.

  Then he thought once more of Olmana and his need for her, and of the things she did when he slept. The thoughts rolled over and over in his mind. How much was his imagination? He could not be sure. Why had he sought this crystal? It was to know, to be certain. But why? And now that he had found it, how did he feel?