OrbSoul (Book 6)

by Martin Ash

  He did not know.

  Reassured. Confirmed. Betrayed. Uncertain. Fearful. Angry. Resentful. Belligerent. Bewildered. Wondering. All these things, and more. Anzejarl's heart raced. He was confused. He knew, though, that were Olmana to learn that he had uncovered her secret, that he had pried into her intimate possessions, she would unleash a fury that he might not withstand.

  Anzejarl unclenched his fist and stared at the crystal again. Is this truly what gives you power over me? What are you without it? And what am I? What are we if I hold the crystal and you do not?

  He heard a shout from outside, and moved to the window. Looking down from this, the third level of Willowmere Manor where he had established his command-headquarters, he saw Olmana striding rapidly toward him. A squad of elite Karai Guard flanked her, trotting to keep pace, their lilac cloaks billowing behind them in the chill, windy morn. Anzejarl quickly stuffed the crystal back into its green velvet pouch, and thrust the pouch back into the chest. He carefully rearranged Olmana's clothing and closed the lid. He stood moodily, determined to mull in depth upon the discovery of the crystal, to consider it in all its aspects and fullest implications, when his mind was clear, when it didn't seethe and distract him.

  He watched until Olmana entered the building.

  What are you, woman?

  Her moods had grown more mercurial of late, her furies more vindictive. Something troubled her more than she would say. Anzejarl had caught her from time to time muttering to herself in a dark reverie, almost as though she had forgotten he was there. He had heard the names slip from her lips again: Orbelon, Triune, Bartacanes, Urch-Malmain, the Orb. . . They were names that meant nothing to him, and Olmana never saw reason to explain herself other than to declare Orbelon an ancient enemy. But the names came from her mouth like foul and distasteful things. They seemed creatures of some unholy cabal, set against her. Whether unified or singly he could not tell, but they inflicted upon Olmana an ever greater urgency in her plans.

  And there was the Child that she sought - the very reason, as far as Anzejarl could gauge, that she had waged this campaign of destruction upon the world. Something had changed. Olmana said nothing directly, but her actions and moods spoke eloquently. She urged ever greater speed upon Anzejarl to accomplish victory over Enchantment's Reach, though she had known from the beginning that it would be a lengthy task. She spoke as though uncertain of the Child - still sure of its proximity, and yet . . . Anzejarl could not guess. He only perceived that not everything was progressing in accordance with Olmana's wishes.

  He had the impression, too, that Olmana had intended to bring another ally or force out of Enchantment to supplement those already gathered and aid her in the siege of Enchantment's Reach. The arrival of this ally was bound up somehow with the secret camp she had had Anzejarl's troops construct deep in the forest. The ally had not come; there was a problem of some kind at the camp. Olmana's temper worsened.

  There were times - and it shook Anzejarl to admit it - when he feared her. What might she visit upon him? A Karai knew no fear of death, but Anzejarl was no longer sure how much of him was still Karai. And it was not the thought of death itself that troubled him. It was more that he knew something of Olmana's power and knew that he could not resist her. She had him enslaved, and what he feared was that if she brought him to death, that death might not only be inglorious and ignoble, but wholly unlike death as he understood it.

  Prince Anzejarl crossed the chamber and seized a handful of bruised ghinz leaves from a table set against the north wall. He pushed three or four leaves into his mouth and chewed in agitation, savouring the bitter juice as he waited for Olmana.

  She entered at a determined pace, a scowl on her face and eyes flashing. With barely a glance at Anzejarl she marched straight to the table and seized several leaves of ghinz. 'Well, what result?'

  'I have no way of assessing,' the Karai prince replied. 'I think I can state with some certainty that we will have achieved a measure of havoc and success before being overcome.'

  The reference was to the previous night's assault upon Orbia Palace by a unit of war-trolls. Against his better judgement but in compliance with Olmana's increasingly hectic demands, he had permitted a dozen to be lifted over the walls. They were transported by slooths fitted with specially devised harnesses. The war-trolls were bulky, heavy beasts even without armour and weapons; each of them had required two slooths linked by the harness to transport them into the capital.

  Anzejarl's plan was to unleash the trolls at a later date, in concert with whatever other force Olmana might bring out of Enchantment. Anything less would be a waste. He wanted a single, decisive assault, at a time when the defenders of Enchantment's Reach were exhausted, dispirited and depleted after weeks of bitter siege and relentless night fire-attacks. With the trolls, special units of Karai fighters would be landed, to secure the gatehouses and open the way for the mass of the Karai army to flood in.

  But not yet. The troops of Enchantment's Reach were still fresh, alert and keen for battle, and the trolls were limited in number, the slooths even more so.

  But Olmana last night had been beside herself, incandescent and shrieking. She would hear neither reason nor denial. Anzejarl had never witnessed her in such a fury, and to appease her, concerned that in such a maddened state she might commit some rash and injurious action, he had agreed to send the trolls.

  'We lost two slooths,' he added.

  Olmana took this in silence, then said, 'No way of assessing? Can you do no better than that, Champion Prince?'

  There had been no word from Anzejarl's contacts inside Enchantment's Reach for some time now. This was not entirely a surprise; King Leth was a thorough and well-organized ruler with a sophisticated apparatus of counter-espionage at his command. He was not to be underestimated. Moreover, the reputation of his Master of Security, the Lord High Invigilate, Fectur, was legend.

  But a report upon the night's activities would have been useful, if only to demonstrate to Olmana the pointlessness of using up valuable resources at the wrong time. Anzejarl did not doubt that the trolls would have created immense disruption before finally being butchered. Ah, but how much? That would have been useful to know.

  'It is doubtful that we would have had reliable access to information from within Orbia at this time, even under more favourable circumstances,' Anzejarl said.

  Olmana tossed her head and made a scornful sound. She strode across the room in agitation.

  Anzejarl watched her. The scarlet skirt that she wore swished around her shapely calves, lying close upon the curves of her slender thighs, buttocks and hips. He looked at her slim wrists extending from the sleeves of her blouse, the line of her neck and shoulders, eyed the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the material, and felt his blood surge.

  'Olmana, you must leave military matters to me. I know how urgently--'

  She wheeled on him. 'Do not tell me what to do!'

  'I know how urgently you seek this Child,' Anzejarl persisted. 'And I will do all I can to help you. I know your impatience, and that something troubles you, and I sympathize. Will you not tell me more? If other forces are ranged against us, perhaps I can establish counter-measures.'

  'I want nothing of your sympathy, you fool!' Olmana declared. 'You know all you need to know. I have warned you before. Do only as you are told.'

  Anzejarl fell silent, fuming and impotent. No other person could have spoken to him thus and lived. But she was not like others. She was . . . what?

  He was helpless before her, and the knowledge of it roused his passions the more and turned his anger inwards.

  'This silence from within. . .' said Olmana after a silence. 'You are certain there is no mistake? Your contacts inside the capital will still rise at the proper time?'

  Anzejarl nodded. 'At my signal. Those terms were established months ago.'

  'There must be no mistake, Anzejarl.'

  The Karai prince shook his head. 'Even without them I have sufficien
t forces to ensure victory - provided I am permitted to strike at the proper time, not before.'

  She absorbed this, chewing intently. 'What of these attacks we have suffered? Will they continue?'

  Anzejarl considered. Recently his supply lines had come under attack from a highly mobile force commanded, he assumed, by one of Leth's generals. It had hidden itself somewhere deep within the forest. Four days ago it had even attacked the trolls as they slept. Seven trolls had died, and more than a score of Karai warriors. The enemy force had melted quickly back into the forest without a single loss of life. Anzejarl had been unable to determine the size of the force. A couple of hundred, perhaps. Not enough to present a serious threat, but an irritant nonetheless. Its presence demanded reinforcement of the supply lines and extra vigilance around the trolls and slooths.

  'Whoever he is, I will find him and eliminate him.'

  'Why haven’t you done so already?'

  'He is cunning, elusive, and has no permanent base. He shifts at will around the forest and is a native of this land. He knows it better than we. But do not fear. He commands a very limited force. He cannot harm us, and soon I will catch up with him.'

  Olmana eyed him haughtily, but said nothing more.

  Anzejarl, overcoming hesitation, moved to her. He looked into her eyes, inhaling the scent of her. He raised a hand to caress her cheek. 'Olmana, we have not loved for some days.'

  She half-smiled, and her voice softened. 'It is true, my Prince. My Champion. My Hero. Do you hunger?'

  'I do. Oh, how I do.' He slid an arm around her waist and drew her against him. She upturned her face to his and he bent to kiss her lips.

  As they kissed he felt her body change. Beneath her light clothing something formed. He opened his eyes - and drew back in horror.

  Olmana cackled in perverse delight. 'Here I am! Have me! I am yours.' She pulled aside her blouse. 'Ha, Prince of the Karai! Is this what you seek? Come! Come! Take me now!'

  Anzejarl staggered back, utterly repelled.

  And then, within a moment, she was Olmana once more. She stood before him, her marvellous breasts bared, hands upon her hips. Anzejarl breathed hard, questioned whether what he had seen had been hallucination, or madness.

  Olmana smiled, tilting her head. 'Do your job, my Champion. You have your rewards.'

  ii

  With the following morning there came a part-answer to a mystery. A Karai warrior, tired and travel-stained after days of hard journeying through the forest, rode into Willowmere Manor. Upon the utterance of certain passwords he was brought directly into the presence of Prince Anzejarl.

  'I am instructed by Commander Urorj to report directly to you, Sire.'

  'Urorj?' Anzejarl was immediately attentive. Urorj was the commander of the one-hundred strong force that he had dispatched to investigate the secret camp, from which the injured sloths had returned earlier.

  Olmana, standing at the window, turned around and fixed the warrior with gimlet eyes.

  'Speak on,' commanded Anzejarl.

  The warrior stood stiffly, his jade and blue eyes focused upon the wall above and beyond Prince Anzejarl's head. 'Sire, two days before we reached the camp we met members of the forward unit that had been based there. They had a disturbing tale to tell. They had gone out from the camp to raid and take slaves, as were your orders. When they returned, after an absence of several days, they found the camp in ruins, burned to the ground, and the remainder of its garrison slain. Their bodies were found in a shallow pit dug in the work compound. Nearby another grave was discovered, containing the bodies of several, but not all, of the human slaves. The other slaves had vanished.'

  Anzejarl's brow darkened. 'An uprising? Overthrown by their own slaves?'

  The soldier swallowed. 'The survivors were unable to say. They elected to slay the prisoners they had taken and leave the camp and return to report to you. They were making their way back when we met them. Commander Urorj questioned their captain at some length, then ordered them to continue, believing you would wish to speak to them.'

  Prince Anzejarl frowned. These men had not returned. Had they been found and slain by Leth's troops? Or, if they had made for Giswel Holt, could they be travelling north to join him now? He gave his attention back to the warrior. 'And at the camp, what did you find?'

  'It was as they had said, the place had been torched and largely razed. We found the mutilated corpses of several slooths.'

  'And beneath the ground?' interrupted Olmana with impatience. 'What there?'

  'I was about to speak of that, my lady. We found an inner chamber, which had been opened. By the survivors' account it was not they who had opened it. Indeed, they reported its entrance barred - they did not know by whom. But their orders had been specific from you, Sire: once the secret chamber was constructed they were not to enter.'

  'Correct,' said Anzejarl. 'But Commander Urorj had orders to investigate in full.'

  'This he did, Sire. I was at his side when he entered the chamber. Within was a fabulous glowing orb. Something quite indescribable, like nothing I have ever seen. It seemed almost alive, for it pulsed as if with its own life. Commander Urorj ordered three of our warriors to investigate this orb. They stepped close. At first nothing happened. Commander Urorj told them to step into the orb itself, at which they vanished.'

  Anzejarl turned a questioning look to Olmana. Her eyes, narrow and bright, did not leave the warrior's face. 'And then?'

  'We waited. Nothing happened. They did not return. Commander Urorj then ordered four more of us to enter. I was one of the four. That is why he has sent me to you, that I might report precisely what I experienced.'

  'And what was that?'

  'We were transported somewhere. I cannot say where. Everything happened very quickly. We found ourselves in a chamber, but were contained within some sort of transparent membrane. We could not break through it. I glimpsed our three warriors lying dead upon the floor. There were six other persons in the chamber: a human soldier wearing the colours of Enchantment's Reach; a young human female, who also carried a sword; a strange, non-human figure, clad in a mass of rags, and finally three small white-haired children of almost identical appearance.'

  Olmana strode forward. 'You saw them?'

  'Exactly as I have described, my lady.'

  'And then what?'

  'Very briefly the three children spoke, questioning what should be done with us as we stood there before them. Then one of them motioned with its hand and we found ourselves back in the underground chamber of the camp.'

  Olmana wheeled away, grimacing as if with a spasm of pain. 'Triune!' she spat. 'And Orbelon. . . Orbelon . . . Orbelon . . . I do not know how, but it can only be Orbelon.'

  'Did Commander Urorj make any further attempt to investigate the orb?' demanded Anzejarl of the warrior.

  'He asked us what had happened, then commanded us to step into it again. We did so, willingly, but nothing further happened. Following this, Commander Urorj made the decision to abandon the chamber and have it placed under guard. An hour later I was on my way here, with instructions to relate everything I had seen to you. Captain Urorj requests your orders, Sire.'

  Anzejarl turned to Olmana. ' What does this mean?'

  Her glance flickered across the soldier. 'Out!' she said.

  The soldier glanced with some uncertainty to his Prince.

  Anzejarl nodded. 'Wait downstairs.'

  When he had gone Anzejarl spoked again to Olmana. 'Will you tell me anything of what this means to us, here?'

  'Triune was not lying,' she rasped, half to herself, turning away.

  'About what?'

  She turned on him, her face a mask of fury. 'I have told you, Anzejarl, do not question me!'

  'I must know whether what we have just heard affects our situation here,' persisted Anzejarl. 'I do not consider that an unreasonable request.'

  Olmana spared him barely a glance. 'It was to bring Reach Riders here. The underground chamber. It contains a po
rtal via which they might come.'

  'Reach Riders?'

  'Powerful allies. They could destroy King Leth's defences almost without effort.'

  'And now your enemy has seized the portal?'

  She grimaced. 'Triune. And it seems, Orbelon too. They have ensnared the first Reach Rider and prevented its passage. Gah!' She spat, and her hands formed into claws. 'Triune!'

  Anzejarl paused for a moment, then said, 'How does this affect us here? Can you free the Reach Rider? Bring forth others?'

  'It was my intention to bring forth many,' she said, with renewed wrath. She did not disclose to him the effect the Reach Riders would have upon the land over which they passed. Nor did she reveal what it would mean for its inhabitants, be they animal, human or Karai. 'Our task here would be over in days.'

  'And now?'

  'We proceed without them. But quickly. When we are done here, then I can bring my full concentration to bear upon Triune and Orbelon. At that time they will no longer be able to withstand me.' She looked hard at Anzejarl. 'There can be no delay now. You must put everything you have against Enchantment's Reach.'

  'That I am doing.'

  'It is not enough!'

  'You know I cannot proceed with any greater haste.'

  'Just be certain, Anzejarl.'

  'You have made no mention of the Child.'

  Her look became scalding. 'Leave the Child to me.' She turned away as if to leave, then stopped and looked back at him, a bitter twist on her mouth. 'There is more than the Child here, be sure of that.'

  THREE

  i

  'How long can you contain this monster?' asked Leth, staring aghast, his skin sweating and prickling in the weirdly-charged air.

  The three Triune children stood close beside him, their hands linked, identical small meaningless smiles upon their lips. Six fulgent blue eyes were focused on Leth, whereas Leth's were fixed upon the gigantic formless thing that thrashed in ceaseless, soundless fury behind its restricting mesh.