Bannor stepped closer to the table.
‘If this Lord is bad, why have you let him build here Sir?’
‘If I had refused, he would have built here anyway. His power is such that he could destroy Return, I believe.’
Mena put a hand over her mouth, her eyes round with horror.
‘He could destroy even you Sir?’ she whispered.
Hargon was rather surprised and flattered by this evidence of concern. He honoured her with a faint smile and turned to the six Cycles old Bartos.
‘This is not a game,’ he cautioned the boy. ‘This Lord could destroy you like that.’ He snapped his fingers and the boy’s cheeks paled. ‘Now, you will be ready in two hours from now. You will repeat none of what I have said to you here, and you will behave as I have commanded.’
He waved his hand in dismissal and three blonde heads dipped in respect before the children turned to leave their father’s presence.
Rhaki sat contemplating the piles of stone blocks, awaiting the next wagon with its load. His gaze drifted past them to the rising slope beyond with its covering of tangled redberry bushes. It must be nearly three ten-days since he had last gone into the caves. He vaguely considered the idea of using his scrying bowl to see what went on in the northern stronghold and Gaharn. He gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t really worth the bother. And he had an odd feeling of being observed at times out here.
He had not caught anyone spying on him, and he dismissed the idea that Hargon would think to have him watched. It was probably passing herd boys, or labourers, having a nervous glance over the top of the quarry to see what the great Lord was doing. Although he dismissed the idea, he resolved not to enter the caves again until he could do so from beneath his tower – just in case.
His reverie was interrupted by the sound of hooves scuffing on the dusty trail from the direction of Return. He rose and turned as Navan rode into view, followed by Hargon and an escort of armsmen. Three smaller koninas stepped along behind Hargon carrying three blonde children. Rhaki smiled as they reined up in front of his tall figure.
‘Hargon! A pleasure to show you my progress!’
He looked pointedly at the three children.
Hargon dismounted, the children following his lead. The two younger ones scarcely reached much higher than Rhaki’s knee he observed in amusement, although the eldest boy was taller.
‘How are you called and what ages have you reached?’ Rhaki enquired kindly.
After a quick glance at Hargon the eldest took a pace forward and bowed.
‘My name is Bannor Sir Lord, eldest son of Lord Hargon. I am eleven Cycles.’ He indicated the smaller boy who also stepped forward and bowed.
‘He is Bartos, younger son of Lord Hargon. He is six Cycles Sir Lord.’
As that seemed to complete the introductions in Bannor’s opinion, Rhaki asked pleasantly:
‘And your sister?’
Bannor looked a little surprised and glanced once more for his father’s confirmatory nod. ‘Oh that is just Mena, Sir Lord. She is ten Cycles.’
Rhaki’s eyes rested on Mena thoughtfully. Beautiful eyes she had, although her hair was cropped as short as the boys’. Ten Cycles old was she? By the time the tower was complete and he was fully ready to continue his life’s work, she would be of a suitable age. Rhaki smiled gently at Mena, noting the blush which coloured her cheeks and then faded to leave an ashen pallor.
Chapter Six
Emla was astonished at how quickly her affection for Ryla had sprung up. She had thought her an opponent in the Chamber of Gathering, but in the days since she had brought her to her House outside the city, Emla had formed a close rapport with the aged Discipline Senior. Although Ryla’s body was frighteningly frail, as long as she was kept warm she seemed to be able to work and talk with little need for rest. Emla found herself being sent, stumbling with weariness, to her bed while Ryla was still as bright as day.
She had found that Ryla usually slept for a few hours as dawn broke so Emla used the early mornings to do the rounds of her household. Once Ryla was installed in the library, they seemed to work, and talk, and work until Ryla once again sent the Golden Lady off to bed. They had discovered several references to the circles in Emla’s library and a few obscure descriptions of a ‘race of small beings’ who lived in the north. As Ryla pointed out, all races on this world were small in comparison to the People.
Kemti travelled between Gaharn and Emla’s House, bringing notes and comments from Khalim, a Senior devoted to Ryla and her future successor. Yash had returned to Gaharn to work with Khalim and had taken over Kera’s quarters in the Asataria.
On this cold afternoon, with grey clouds threatening yet more snow, Kera had joined Emla and Ryla. Kera wore trousers and shirt as Emla did most of the time now. She was staring out at the bleak gardens and she shivered.
‘I can’t wait to be on my way north, but the first few days look likely to be cold travelling indeed,’ she said.
She returned to the fireside and looked at Ryla affectionately. ‘At least you’ll get written reports sent back from me.’
Emla snorted. ‘I’ve told you – I had no time for making notes or writing reports!’
Shan came in with the usual afternoon tray of spice tea and hot pastries before more could be said. Emla noticed a scratch along Shan’s cheekbone.
‘Still enjoying your training Shan?’
‘Yes thank you Lady.’
Shan thumped one of Ryla’s pillows a little harder than was strictly necessary before squashing it between Ryla’s back and the chair again.
‘And what weapons did you practise this morning?’ Kera enquired innocently.
Shan shot her a quick glance from beneath her lashes. ‘Wooden swords Lady.’
‘Aah.’ Kera nodded. ‘Even wooden ones have quite sharp edges I believe.’
Shan decided that that comment required no answer, bobbed to the room generally and fled.
‘Not fair!’ Ryla said, trying to remove the newly placed pillow. ‘No doubt the child finds it hard, not having been used to muscle training and so on, as we all were from our earliest Cycles.’
Before Kera could answer, the door opened again and Shan announced:
‘Lord Malesh, Ladies.’
A figure staggered in, arms heaped with leather folders and boxes.
‘You surely didn’t carry all that from Gaharn did you?’ Ryla asked.
Malesh dropped them onto an edge of the worktable with relief.
‘No of course not. Only from downstairs.’ He smiled at them all. ‘Khalim thinks these might hold something of interest.’
Emla and Ryla both groaned.
Suddenly Emla sat up, her eyes unfocused, then she went quickly to the window.
‘Oh dear. Kera, wrap another shawl over Ryla’s shoulders while I open the window for a minute.’
Rather bemused, Kera did so and then gaped, as did Ryla, as a tatty feathered black Merig dropped heavily to the floor. Emla leaned out of the window then closed it.
‘Your – friend – has not accompanied you this time, Merig?’ Emla asked in mindspeech.
The Merig rattled his feathers into place, walked stiff legged to the fire and hopped up onto a stool.
‘Not today,’ he replied, surveying Ryla and Kera calmly.
‘You could close your mouths now,’ Emla murmured aloud. ‘This is the one who travels north in the next few days,’ she went on, resting a hand on Kera’s shoulder.
‘And me,’ Malesh interrupted.
‘And that one,’ agreed Emla.
The Merig blinked several times then drew himself up.
‘Thus begins my message,’ he intoned. ‘From Gan in the stronghold to Emla: Why did you send a dozen Kephis?’ The Merig blinked again.
Emla had her hand over her mouth and her green eyes were dancing with mirth.
‘Is that all?’
‘Of course not. From Tika in the stronghold: The Delvers love the Kephis – why not send more?
’ The Merig did a quick shuffle of feathers as though confused before adding: ‘From Gan: Do not dare. I did not fully understand that part,’ he explained apologetically. ‘The rest is more sensible.’
When the Merig had delivered his messages fully and was preparing to leave, Ryla asked:
‘Why did the Merigs never speak with us before?’
The Merig’s head wagged from side to side.
‘We did not choose to,’ he said simply.
After Emla closed the window behind the Merig, silence reigned in the library.
Finally she said: ‘But I did tell you about the Merigs.’
‘Yes,’ said Ryla. ‘But it is one thing knowing, and another thing seeing.’
Kera headed for the door. ‘I’ll go and see about the supplies they ask for Emla. Come on Malesh.’
The door opened again and Kera poked her head back into the room. ‘Shall I gather more Kephis do you think Emla?’
Emla laughed aloud. ‘Perhaps not this trip. Gan sounds upset enough with the dozen I’ve already sent them!’
Kera grinned and shut the door. Emla knelt beside a crate against the wall.
‘I hope these are what Nolli wants. Some are serious works but I’ve put in some books of poetry and songs too.’
Ryla peered over the table at Emla. ‘Have you put any of the children’s tales in? I feel sure she’d love those.’
‘I’ll get some copies made. I only have these myself and I couldn’t bear to part with them. They will be ready for next time.’
‘Emla, would Nolli mind if I wrote to her? I feel I know her from all you’ve told me and I would so like to meet her myself. I thought perhaps she could ask Kera to write her reply – I remember you said how crippled her hands are.’
‘I’m sure she would be glad to receive a personal word from you Ryla. I spoke with her during the few days I remained in the stronghold, and I believe she holds far more information than she has so far revealed. It was she who insisted that I must come back here – I think she guessed the Gathering would find it difficult to believe what I had to tell them.’ Emla chewed the end of her pen until Ryla leaned over and gently removed it from her mouth. ‘Nolli said she suspected there would be some here too full of self importance and pride to accept what I would tell them.’
Ryla sighed. ‘Oh to speak with this Nolli! It is hard to speak clearly in written words. But at least I will see some of your Dragons Emla. When should you think they will judge the young Dragon strong enough to travel?’
‘I fear it will be soon. Nolli was adamant that Rhaki be stopped as quickly as possible. But Farn was so hurt Ryla! The healing Tika did, was beyond belief.’
‘Tell me again who will come south?’
‘Farn and Tika. Brin, the great crimson son of Fenj, said he would come. And Kija – she will not allow her son Farn out of her sight for a good while yet I suspect! Gan will be with them and one of the Guardsmen, Sket. He appointed himself personal guard to Tika when she first came here.’ Emla smiled, remembering Sket’s first flight on a Dragon, his eyes firmly closed.
‘And will your gardener be with them?’
‘I don’t know. He seems to have become firm friends with Fenj. I think Lorak was busy investigating the Delvers ways of plant cultivation. I fear I may need a new gardener.’
They fell silent again, slowly turning the pages of old books, hoping some word might snag their eye. Then Ryla said:
‘You know, I have thought lately of the time of our coming here. A decision was made to deliberately destroy or withhold any information of the time before. The Seniors then – Jerak’s parents among them, said there was no going back, so those born here, such as you and I, must not be forever yearning for what was gone.’
Emla watched Ryla staring unseeing into the fire, her mind far in the past.
‘But among the things we were not to know, how much I wonder now, should we have been told?’ Ryla’s eyes left the fire and settled on Emla’s face. ‘We tested all the humans for signs of our power, but we did not consider other races – such as the Merigs. Not until you began, amidst much laughter I know, did we learn of the Dragons for instance.’
‘You mean those born beyond, might have known that the power or high intelligence is found in races very unlike ourselves in appearance? Yet somehow we assumed that only those similar in form to ourselves could compare mentally with us?’ Emla frowned, trying to shape thoughts only just considered.
Before either could say more, Kera and Malesh came back from organising various extra supplies requested by the northern stronghold.
‘I think we can leave the day after tomorrow,’ Kera said. ‘We are using more kalfi for the wagons. I think we could let the Delvers keep some of them in their Domain, the Guards said there was no difficulty with them underground.’
Malesh was sorting out the pile of document cases he’d brought from Gaharn. He passed one box across to Ryla.
‘There are some very old papers in there. Khalim thinks from soon after our arrival. There are legends and tales from humans, both in this region and in the southlands of Sapphrea. Khalim said Nagums are mentioned in a couple of places.’
Ryla lifted the lid off the box and began taking out discoloured pages, frayed at their edges, mixed with newer paper on which were scribbled notes. She raised an eyebrow at Malesh. He shrugged helplessly.
‘That was how Khalim found them. The box they were in, fell to pieces as he touched it and he just put those papers as they are into this box.’
The woman stood again on the balcony outside the marbled room where the Chimes of Harmony hung. She looked over the sleeping city and tried to empty her mind of the riot of arguments that tumbled through it. She sighed. She couldn’t loiter out here much longer, the council members would be wondering where she had vanished to. But their circular discussions had forced her to escape for a few minutes solitude. Softly, Thryssa closed the glass door to the balcony, crossed the chamber and went to her room.
Alya was standing by the window as Thryssa entered, her back to the room. Thryssa glimpsed her face reflected in the dark glass and knew that Alya was struggling to maintain her composure. Temno stood with his back to the fire, declaiming his views to an unmistakably bored Imshish and Bagri. Maressa sipped her tea, her expression quite devoid of emotion. Temno broke off what he was saying as Thryssa came into the room and slipped into her high-backed chair. Alya and Temno quickly resumed their seats and five faces turned to Thryssa.
As though there had been no break in the discussion Bagri said: ‘I strongly advise that this time of our seclusion be ended Thryssa. We must know, and soon, what is happening again beyond our lands.’
‘And I strongly advise against any such foolishness.’ Temno glared at Bagri. ‘What happens outside of the Vagrantian lands is of no concern to us.’
Thryssa lifted her hand. ‘You are both right, and both wrong.’
Alya closed her eyes briefly, suddenly aware of what Thryssa was going to suggest. She opened them to find Imshish staring at her and knew he too had guessed what Thryssa would announce.
‘We must ask for a seeing from one of the Kedara Circle. There is no one here in Parima Circle who has studied those talents to any degree of expertise. I have already sent for Jilla to apprise her of my decision. My request, I should say.’ She stared Bagri to silence as he began to object. ‘No Bagri. I will only compromise this far as yet. Until we know more of what is happening in the western lands, I authorise no envoy to leave Vagrantia.’
‘There is no need for scrying,’ Temno argued. ‘We are safe here and undisturbed in all these Cycles. Thus we can remain. But once news spreads in the Circles of what might be discovered beyond Vagrantia, all the reckless and adventurous fools will yearn to venture forth.’
‘I think not,’ said Maressa calmly. ‘Those who scry, have rarely been gossips.’
Alya remembered that several members of Maressa’s family had studied the arts of Air.
‘So any rum
ours that might whisper among the Circles, could only come from one of us,’ Maressa continued.
Temno’s face flared scarlet but Thryssa spoke first, her eyes on Maressa.
‘Enough. Already you encourage discord. If you do so easily among us of the council, how much more easily and quickly will it thrive among the people of the Circles?’
Imshish nodded slowly. ‘I agree with Thryssa.’
Temno scowled at him.
‘And I agree,’ said Alya.
‘And I.’ Maressa smiled distantly.
‘I agree so far,’ said Bagri. ‘But I would beg that we begin to prepare, in case there is a need to consider defending ourselves.’
There was a silence as Thryssa pondered Bagri’s suggestion. ‘I think you can prepare to the extent of written plans, for our perusal Bagri, and no more.’
Bagri nodded, relieved that he had persuaded Thryssa that far at least. Everyone looked at Temno. His flush had faded but his eyes were defiant.
‘I disagree with any sort of contact outside of Vagrantia. We were forced to find refuge from the cruelty of that outside world. Let us remain aloof from them forever. If they now find themselves in difficulties, let them discover their own solutions.’
‘Your objection is noted Temno. I suggest we end now and meet again in four nights.’
Thryssa stood and the five councillors also rose and left the room, wishing Thryssa goodnight.
Thryssa moved to a chair by the fireside and sank into it with a tired sigh. An inner door opened and a man came in and sat opposite Thryssa. She smiled.
‘You heard most of that, I presume Kwanzi? It went as I’d thought. Maressa, as always, is so damnably enigmatic, I wonder sometimes if she herself knows what she’s thinking.’
Kwanzi chuckled. ‘I’ve wondered the same myself,’ he agreed. ‘Alya and Imshish would follow you to death itself, and beyond.’
‘I know. I think Bagri is of a similar mind but he yearns to protect us all. That could lead to difficulties, the line between defence and attack blurs too easily in such a determined mind, I fear.’
‘You hadn’t mentioned to me that you had requested Jilla’s presence? Will you not have to consult with the Speakers of all the Circles to allow a far-seeing attempt though?’
Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series Page 6
