The Orb And The Spectre (Book 2)

by Martin Ash

  "That is surely his immediate goal. He has taken the march town of Wizened Lea. It fell without a fight, the majority of its inhabitants having fled. It’s an important gain for him, providing him with shelter and an adequate base for supplies."

  "How reliable is the report?" queried Leth.

  "It has come by one of Duke Hugo's pigeons. It bears his seal and mark."

  Leth nodded soberly. Wizened Lea had been an anticipated loss, almost a sacrifice. Its occupation came as no surprise. For weeks its people had been pouring into Giswel Holt and Enchantment's Reach, desperate for shelter, as they had known they would be first in the path of the Karai. Wizened Lea was indefensible. To have met the Karai there would have resulted in quick and brutal defeat.

  Folk were coming from other towns and villages, their numbers ever-increasing. They were women, children and old men in the main. The young and able had been drafted into the army. They swelled the population of the great city-castle until its walls groaned and its towers swayed, placing demands upon its storehouses almost beyond its bearable limit. Passions flared in the streets as resident citizens brunted the influx. Order was becoming more difficult to establish or control. Ever more urgent requests came to close the city gates on the growing torrent, but Leth refused to turn his people away.

  "Do you ride to meet Anzejarl, Sire?"

  Leth remained resolute. "Hugo can certainly hold out at Giswel Holt for many weeks should the Karai lay siege. Then might an opportunity present itself to strike Anzejarl in the back. But for now he remains fluid. I do not choose to exhaust our troops by chasing him willy-nilly about the countryside."

  "And if he advances on towards Enchantment's Reach?"

  "Then he will be between Hugo and us. Keep me apprised of all reports, Cathbo."

  Sir Cathbo bowed and withdrew. Leth sat in hopeless despair. He had spoken with some bravado but within himself he knew that nothing he could do would be much more than a token gesture against the Karai. Even a strike into the Karai army's rear would achieve little. The Karai vastly outnumbered the soldiers and knights of Enchantment's Reach. They were enigmatic, emotionless warriors, skilled in battle, who fought without fear of injury or death. And they did not fight alone. Leth's forces would be thrown into disarray by a simultaneous attack from the skies of Anzejarl's terrible slooths.

  How many slooths? Leth could not guess, but fewer than two score, expertly deployed, would be enough to bring havoc and confusion to Leth's ranks which the Karai might exploit to devastating advantage.

  And there remained Anzejarl's other forces, the fearsome troll-things, so far unseen within Leth's kingdom. Earlier reports of the Karai campaign had told of the effect these creatures had had as shock troops against the armies of the southern Mondanes that Anzejarl had conquered. Bolstered by such redoubtable allies Prince Anzejarl had made himself a virtually invincible foe.

  If I could just learn how he has tamed these creatures! Leth slammed the arm of his seat with his fist. If I could discover how he has acquired the patronage of a god, how he has torn his nation's constitution to shreds and yet survived to lead. If, if, if. . . .

  His gloomy meditations were interrupted by a servant announcing the Lord High Invigilate. Fectur strode into the chamber, his chest puffed, a sealed letter in his hand which he passed straight to the King.

  Leth saw at once the illicit seal of the True Sept.

  "They grow audacious," he said, breaking the seal. The seal on the previous letter had been anonymous, the Sept's insignia contained only on the inside. Leth read the words within:

  ‘ If the Child is truly known, you are helpless without us.’

  He handed it to Fectur, who nodded, seemingly gratified. "They also grow impatient."

  "They burn for contact, for legitimacy. I will exploit this if I can. But I’ve nothing to give them other than the news that the Child may have been found and has now vanished. Hardly enough to persuade Venger to disgorge the Sept's most sacred secrets."

  "But they’re keen," emphasized Fectur. "Avid. The thought that the Child may be known by us is more than they can bear. The fact that they contact us again proves that."

  "I will send word," said Leth. "I’ll meet with Venger."

  "Restore him? Restore the Sept?"

  "Under Emergency."

  Fectur shook his head. "I think he will remain invisible under Emergency. No matter the temptation, he will know what it means. But I’ve a better idea. Emergency has’nt yet been made public. It’s not too late for you to rescind it."

  "No!"

  "Sire!" Fectur leaned towards him, the muscles of his jaw rippling. "Listen to me! Rescind it now, bring Venger out, then declare Emergency! Thus he is caught!"

  "I’ve thought of that." Leth's face was rueful and set. "It is not my way. I would be seen by all to be sly and prevaricating, a King without principle, no matter that it snares Grey Venger. Never again would I have the confidence of my people."

  "But Sire--"

  "No! I have declared a Condition of Emergency for a specific, legitimate reason, because the evidence I have convinces me that it is warranted. I will not use such drastic legislation for anything other than its true and proper purpose: to bring order to the realm."

  "Catching an infamous troublemaker, traitor and assassin is surely included within that remit."

  "Not if I must be seen by my people to have stooped to the level of the lowest cheat. That is not the example of a King. No, what’s done is done. I have no intention of changing it."

  "Then you must restore Venger and the True Sept. I would have it set on record, Sire, that I do not counsel such a move. It will be another unpopular decision. However, your only alternative, as far as I see it, is to ignore them. One cannot guess the consequences of that."

  "There may be none," shrugged the King. "Will the information that the Sept possesses be any more valid than the so-called knowledge of the gods that the other factions claim?"

  "Only Venger can answer that." Fectur grasped his lapels and leaned back. "Sire, I must state that for you to have legitimate concourse with Venger at this time cannot improve your position. This is the man who almost murdered you, who is known to hate you beyond reason for the deaths of his two sons. He - or the Sept which he represents - is strongly suspected of having contact with the Karai. Acceptance in public will not go down well."

  "Do you have firm evidence that contact was ever made?"

  "There was a man brought to my custody. He confessed to being a Sept member, and to having been sent to establish relations with Prince Anzejarl."

  Leth gave a scornful toss of the head. "In your custody a man will confess to anything, Fectur. Where is he now?"

  "He died. Regrettably."

  "You have channels to the Sept, still? Could you arrange a meeting, in secret?"

  "It can be done. But there remain the problems of Venger's proclamation of innocence and the restoration of the Sept."

  "Propose the meeting, Fectur. Let Venger know that I’m prepared to discuss with him his demands. I leave it to you to establish the conditions, but make it clear that, in this instance at least, Venger will be free of any risk of legal action for the duration of the meeting."

  "Are you sure of this, Sire?"

  "I am."

  "I would again impress upon you my reservations."

  "Acknowledged. Now, about your business, man, if there is nothing else you wish to say."

  II

  Late that night, sleepless, King Leth stood at the window of his and Issul's bedchamber. The rain still fell, racing cloud concealing the stars, permitting an intermittent, delicate silvered radiance from the moon to bathe the world for brief moments. In the distance the weird lights were a feeble, misted blur, marking the border of Enchantment, definite enough for Leth to discern something of their alternating hues through the low cloud. Between him and the weird lights, beyond the jagged outlines of Enchantment's Reach, lay a dark void, the great forest wilderness, a nothing, cloaked
in wet mist, touched here and there with faintest moonlight streaked by rain.

  It seemed that he gazed upon a reflection of his misery.

  I am King! The people look to me for decisiveness, for resoluteness, for strength. I am not permitted to be a man. More, much more, is demanded of the King. I can show no weakness. I cannot be vulnerable to the pressures and anguishes of ordinary folk.

  And I am empty.

  His eyes travelled over the great abyss before him. Issul. Issul. Are you out there somewhere? Do you live? Do you breathe? Do you struggle to return to me, as I yearn to have you return?

  He thrust himself away from the window, unable to contemplate any more. But the candlelit chamber offered no succour, the bed no comfort. He strode the room, then back again. Something caught his eye and he paused, straining to see into one shadowed corner.

  A figure seemed to stand there, hardly formed, immaterial. Vaguely the shape of a man, hunched and bowed, bundled in rags, bearing a staff.

  "Orbelon?"

  The figure made no sound, though it moved slightly. It was only half-seen, for an instant became better defined, then faded, faded, and was no more.

  Leth blinked, peering hard. Was it hallucination? He was overtired, overwrought. The shadows there were dense and indistinct. Had he conjured only what he wished to see?

  He heard a sound, a half-whispered voice: "Aah, so close. . . ."

  But no more.

  Had he heard it, or imagined it? The wind - it had fooled his ears as the shadows and flickering candlelight had fooled his eyes. There was nothing.

  Or was he mad?

  Leth advanced cautiously to the corner, his hand before him. But he found only the emptiness of shadows, as he had expected to do.

  He turned and flung himself upon the bed, grasped the pillow and gathered it about his head. But nothing could separate him from the torment within.

  The night passed slowly. The rain moved on, little by little the wind abated. Leth hovered on the uncertain border between sleep and consciousness, the undefinable edge on either side of which lay the vast reach of the real and palpable and the hallucinatory and intangible. And at some point, undeterminable in time's sequence, he found himself before the blue casket in a dream, and heard the irresistible summons: "Come now, Leth."

  Instantly awake, Leth hurled himself from his bed, seized a lamp and rushed to his study. He took the casket from the wall, found it unsealed, raised its lid. When the familiar dazzle subsided he found himself before Orbelon in the great blue chamber.

  "You are distraught?"

  "I’m threatened on all sides. War is upon me. I fear losing all."

  "It is the Karai who advance upon you?" asked Orbelon.

  "They are within my borders now. I lack the forces to withstand them."

  "They are moving with greater speed than I had anticipated," Orbelon mused. "Their need is surely urgent."

  "Do you know which god it is that allies itself with the Karai?"

  "I could venture guesses as to the most likely, but I would only be furnishing you with a list of as many as ten names to choose from, none of which would mean anything to you. It’s therefore pointless to speculate. I presume your spies have witnessed no unusual company in the Karai camp?"

  "Anzejarl travels with a consort who is not believed to be Karai. My agents are unable to get close so it is difficult to be sure. Apart from that there is no one."

  "There is the clue, then. The Karai do not mix with other races."

  "She is the god?" Leth was astounded.

  "More likely the servitor, sorcerous fabrication, simulacrum or projection of one. But it is surely through her that Prince Anzejarl commands his unnatural creatures. Still, this does not help me to identify a specific god."

  "What? Why have you not told me this before?" cried Leth.

  Orbelon stood stock still. "I did not know before. You have never mentioned her. But what difference does it make?"

  "If she, this consort, is the key, then I can direct my actions against her."

  Orbelon's great head shook. "You cannot destroy her. If she is what I say, nothing you can do will affect her. Do you know her name?"

  "No. I know nothing about her. But why, Orbelon, why has a god allied itself with one race against all others?"

  "The issue is complex," said Orbelon. "But one must assume that they serve mutual ends and that therefore there is something the god seeks and stands to gain through the alliance. I think we will speak of this at another time."

  "You know, don't you!" Leth could not withhold his emotion. "Do not avoid my questions, Orbelon. Do not dismiss me. I believe you know."

  "I know only that this is grave," Orbelon muttered. "Events are moving too quickly."

  "But not entirely to your surprise! Tell me, Orbelon! Tell me what you know! What is happening here?"

  The bundled figure hesitated. "I do not know as much as you wish to believe."

  "But you know far more than I. How? Tell me that? How do you know so much. All that you have told me to date. . . . Who - what - are you?"

  "Surely, Leth, you have guessed the answer to that by now, haven't you?"

  Leth stood rigid, quivering. He was eager to press what he perceived had somehow become his advantage. Orbelon, for the first time ever, seemed unsure of himself, seemed almost in Leth's palm, as though actually wishing to unburden himself of something. But Leth was fearful of appearances, knew that his advantage might be brief. He was desperate not to irk the strange figure and find himself cast peremptorily from the blue realm. "You are one of them, aren't you? One of the very gods of Enchantment who you have described to me. That is how you know so much."

  "We are not gods, Leth. Remember that."

  "Please, let us not argue nomenclature now. If you have a soul you will know what pain I bear; you will have no wish to crush me further. To all intents and purposes you are gods. You, Orbelon. You are one of them!"

  To his surprise Orbelon laughed. Not a laugh of mockery, but a short musing laugh, coloured with irony.

  "Ah Leth, you do not know what you have just said." Orbelon then leaned upon his staff as though weary, his head bowed. "I was among them, it is true. One of the twenty four. But no longer. Not for many ages. I was defeated, Leth. Beaten. The first of the twenty four to suffer such humiliation."

  "But not destroyed."

  "Yes, destroyed. Banished from the world. No longer powerful. I became what I am now. I will not waste time with details of the process, for you wouldn’t understand it. But it was destruction, separation from my essence, elimination of the 'god' that I had been. It was death."

  It was not death as Leth understood it, but he was not going to sidetrack or discourage Orbelon now with unnecessary questions. Besides, he could never hope for a full intellectual understanding of the concepts he was being introduced to here, in this extraordinary place before this extraordinary being.

  "I can tell you little more, Leth," Orbelon said, and his tone was despondent.

  "You can tell me what I should do."

  "I do not know. I can’t advise you at this time. I have been striving. . . but if the Karai are really so close then I have no time. I am as good as powerless."

  "I cannot sit here and simply accept defeat!" protested Leth. "There must be a way!"

  "There are ways, but for your part they are ways of the imagination only. They can’t be followed."

  "Tell me anyway."

  "You could go to Enchantment--"

  "I cannot!"

  "Precisely."

  Leth clenched his fists before him. "But if I did?"

  "You could attempt to discover the identity of this god who backs the Karai, then appeal to him or her to abandon Anzejarl. Alternatively you could approach another god, an enemy of this one, have him wage war for your cause. As I said, neither course is feasible. Even less so is your final option."

  "Still, I will hear it."

  "You can find and bring to me the Orb's Soul."
>
  "The Orb's Soul? What is this thing, Orbelon? You have mentioned it before but failed to elucidate. Why is it so important?"

  "Leth, have you still not understood? You have just said that if I possess a soul I will know what pain you bear. Well, I know your pain. Truly I do. And I know mine also. Yet I am without a soul. It is the Soul of the Orb that was taken from me when I was defeated by my enemies. It is my essence, and without it I am nothing except what you see. It was taken from me and cast away, or buried or hidden - I don’t know. But if it could be found and restored to me, I would be again what I once was."

  "It was taken by one of your enemies?"

  "Not one; a cabal. Strymnia, who manifests as an Arch-Demoness of immense power; Bartacanes, who favours purple-skinned humanoid appearance and sorcerous talents; and Urch-Malmain, a perverse, normally solitary creature. Perhaps others too!"

  "Then they each exist in a single, permanent form?"

  "I have told you before, the gods may change their form at will. But each of us adopts a favoured form, and with the passing of the eons that form becomes more the natural state as we succumb to natural laws. Most favour human-like appearance, emulating the dominant species of this world."

  Leth was thoughtful. "If the Orb's Soul could be found and returned to you, you would become a god again. What then of Enchantment's Reach?"

  "I mean you no harm Leth, be assured of that. But if I were empowered again I could confront your enemies and my own on something approaching equal terms. As it is, I can do virtually nothing."

  "It occurs to me that there may be another option open to me," said Leth. "One that you have purposefully failed to mention."

  "What is that?"

  "I could take the blue casket, the Orb, and offer it to the god who commands the Karai. Because it think perhaps it is you, Orbelon, that this god seeks. I think that may be its reason for joining with the Karai."

  Orbelon shook his head. "Do so, Leth, if you wish. But you would be mistaken. You would lose me forever, and still fall. The god doesn’t seek me. He or she may not know that I am here, but neither would they care particularly. I am not the object of the search. Why would I be? I am without a soul, and helpless."