“I shall have to play for you when I am done,” she said, catching one of his glances.
“I’d play with you if I had a lute,” Nerris said. “I learned how the last time I was at court.”
“That would be lovely.” Len-Ahl smiled. “Will Dist and Jhareth sing for us, do you think?”
“Jhareth never had any time for music,” Nerris said, “and Dist couldn’t carry a tune if it had handles. I’m afraid it would only be us.”
“That is nice too. But I sense our time is drawing nigh. You wish to hunt for this new treasure with your friends, do you not?”
“It’s not that I don’t want you along,” Nerris said, “but it can be dangerous out there. We can only do so much to protect you.”
“And what would you have me do?” Len-Ahl asked. “Where do I belong, if not with you?”
Nerris had no real objection to her coming along, but for the simple fact that she was a woman, and one he had grown to like very much. He remembered his experiences with Qabala and Ketsuya, and women he loved even before them. He knew where that path led. Len-Ahl may find him interesting for a time, but eventually she would leave him like the rest. One way or the other.
Len-Ahl put a hand on his wrist. “And what is Nerris thinking about now?”
“Nothing,” Nerris said. “Let’s just enjoy the day. Tomorrow and its decisions can wait until after dessert.”
They arrived back at Jhareth’s room in Faerlin Castle later in the afternoon to find him arguing with Dist. “I can’t concentrate with you nattering at me,” Jhareth said.
“I’m sorry,” Dist said, “I assumed when you dragged us out on this little excursion that you had some kind of plan.”
“I try not to plan,” Jhareth said. “I trust in the four winds to blow me toward a favorable destination.”
Dist folded his arms. “I doubt you can even spell destination.”
Nerris leaned over one of the scrolls, which was flattened on the table, held open by Jhareth’s tin cups. “The castle library was no help, I take it?”
“Not one clue about what language this is,” Dist said.
The parchments of the scroll were old, and had to be handled with care. Thus Jhareth had decided the original scrolls would stay here, and he would make duplicates of them to take on the road. The endeavors of his work sat on a table by the window, the fresh ink drying in the sunlight. The letters of the ancient language had a scratchy quality to them, as if carved into a tree trunk rather than written on parchment.
Len-Ahl peered over Nerris’s shoulder. “It is said these scrolls are the prophecy of Angelica, the faery queen. One would assume this is the language of the faeries.”
Nerris nodded. “I knew that much the first time I encountered the prophecy at Gauntlet. Angelica traded her immortal life for the gift of foresight, or so the story goes.”
“Faeries are immortal?” Dist asked.
“You misunderstand, Dist,” Len-Ahl said. “To the faeries, she is not a queen like you are thinking. She is more akin to a goddess. There are those among the faeries who believe her sacrifice all those years ago has doomed them.”
“Why would she make a sacrifice like that?” Nerris asked.
Len-Ahl shrugged. “It was a long time ago. No doubt she had her reasons.”
“If it even happened,” Jhareth said. “That doesn’t get us any closer to figuring out what this means.”
“Maybe not,” Nerris said, “but I did ask around on our trip to the University. Years ago, there was a professor there who devoted his life to the truth behind prophecies. He desperately tried to acquire these scrolls, but was refused by the Klaidons.”
“And what happened to this man?”
“He retired to his home in Orrigo,” Nerris said. “Most regard prophecy as a gratuitous area of study, and scrolls such as these a mere curiosity for linguists, but they said he seemed confident he would be able to read them. If so, then we need to go to Agos.”
Dist scratched his chin. “I was hoping we could return to Haladast while we sorted this out, but it would be nice to visit Gauntlet again.”
“What’s left of it.” Jhareth stretched. “It’s as good a lead as any, and a sight better than nothing.”
“It will give you a chance to get away from the king’s niece as well,” Dist said, grinning.
Jhareth blanched. “Don’t remind me. The fool girl thinks she can somehow make me her husband.”
“Never underestimate the determination of young women,” Len-Ahl muttered.
“It’s not just her,” Jhareth said. “Her father wants the match as well. I keep telling them I have no title to speak of, and it would bring disgrace to the royal house for Nolota to marry beneath her. I couldn’t do that to King Maerlos.”
“Oh, is that the reason?” Nerris asked.
“Why else would I turn her down?” Jhareth sighed. “I should have chosen a haughtier noblewoman to focus on, but her sister was visiting Klaigard at the time.”
Nerris and Dist exchanged a puzzled glance. “What do you mean by that?” Dist asked.
“Hmm?” Jhareth said. “Oh, nothing.”
“Jhareth, what aren’t you telling us?” Nerris asked, moving toward him.
Jhareth turned to face him. “I told you, I—” He sprang away, but was not fast enough to avoid Dist, who tackled him to the floor and pinned an arm behind his back. Jhareth shrieked in protest as Dist applied pressure.
Len-Ahl covered her mouth with her hand. “Is he hurt?”
“He’s all right,” Nerris said. “Sometimes this is the only way to get anything out of him.”
Dist bent Jhareth’s arm at the elbow and wrenched up on his forearm. “Ouch!” Jhareth cried. “All right, all right, I’ll talk.” Dist let up, and Jhareth shoved him away. He sat back in his chair, stretching out his arm.
“Well?” Nerris asked.
“Don’t rush me,” Jhareth said. “I’m not proud of this.”
“Will you get on with it?” Dist said.
Jhareth cleared his throat. “Remember what I told you about saving Nolota’s life? Well, that may have been an exaggeration.”
“You, exaggerate?” Nerris said with a straight face. “I’m stunned.”
“I had to get those scrolls,” Jhareth said, “and the only way to do that was to request a boon from the king. And the best way to accomplish that was to save the life of a member of the royal family. I may have spent some time in the royal stables, working with Nolota’s horse. Teaching him to fear certain smells and such. And when we went out riding that day—”
“You spooked him and forced him toward that cliff.” Nerris regarded him with disgust. “You put her life at risk for your own profit?”
“It went farther than I intended,” Jhareth said, sounding hurt. “You know me better than that, Nerris. I have an affinity with horses, and I knew mine would be able to catch hers long before she was in any real danger. But my horse stumbled, and hers charged right off the cliff. Nolota saved her own life by rolling off right before and was able to cling to the rock face long enough for me to help her back to safety.”
They sat there in silence, marveling at their friend. Finally, Dist threw his hands up and left the room. Nerris shook his head. “Jhareth, sometimes you simply amaze me.” He moved toward the door himself. “As much as I’d like to stay and hear more of your depravations, I have an appointment with King Maerlos soon and should change into something more suitable.”
“You won’t tell him, will you?”
“What I should do is march you straight to Nolota’s chambers and make you accept her proposal,” Nerris said. “It seems you owe her a great debt.”
Nerris returned to his own room, fuming as he pulled off his plain tunic and changed into the silks which had been provided for him. Leave it to Jhareth to sour a perfectly good experience with his shenanigans. He loved his friend, but he had to admit there were times when he couldn’t stand the sight of him.
A short ti
me later, a courtier arrived, summoning him to the king’s council chamber on the west side of Faerlin Castle. As he approached the door, Nerris straightened his belt and brushed back his hair with one hand. Two guards stood outside, with Sir Jacey Rainwater on duty for the cavaliers inside. The knight led him into the drafty chamber, which opened onto a balcony overlooking the slope of Mount Tamelk. A large oaken table sat in the middle of the room, with the royal seat at its head. King Maerlos rose when Nerris entered. The prime minister stood at his side, but other than that, no other councilors were in attendance.
Maerlos gestured to him. “Nerris, I trust you’re acquainted with our dear prime minister, the guildmaster Congir?”
Nerris gave him a nod. “I believe we met at the banquet, your Excellency.”
Congir smiled. “It is kind of you to remember, Master Nerris.”
Maerlos gestured for him to sit. “Have you had any luck with the scrolls?”
“No, but we have a lead,” Nerris said. “We’ll be leaving for Orrigo soon.”
Maerlos nodded. “Perhaps that is for the best. But for now, let us talk of more urgent matters. I hadn’t the chance to bring this up before, but all kinds of rumors have been coming in from the royal intelligence on your whereabouts recently.”
Nerris frowned. He did not like where this was going.
“More to the point, battles you’ve commanded,” Congir said. “Is it true you were given a command by the woman known as Qabala the Unbreakable?”
“I led one battle, yes,” Nerris said. “I was a mercenary for her army, but I left her service months ago. Yagolhan is no longer my concern.”
Maerlos frowned. “The instability of Yagolhan concerns us all. Ever since King Lahnen assumed the throne, the country has been plagued with rebellions and civil war. But with the king dead and this woman and her loyal fanatics closing ranks around Prince Lahnel, there are mutterings at an invasion of the east.”
Nerris was on shaky ground, he knew. He did not want it known how close he came to staying with Qabala and serving the dark force she had taken up with. Though the Thrillseekers had always enjoyed immunity from the loyalties due the crown, he still felt he owed his king an explanation of his activities. King Maerlos had taken them in, embraced them, lauded them as national heroes, and gained mutual trust. To lie to him would be like lying to a father. That same yearning for approval, however, kept him from divulging too much. If he knew the nature of Nerris’s relationship with Qabala, would that trust still be there?
“There was talk of it,” he finally said. “Qabala is young, and full of righteousness. But you know the rigors which come with ruling a kingdom, your Majesty. Even if Prince Lahnel’s forces were to fall tomorrow, she still needs to consolidate her power. She’ll have to expunge the rats from her own house before she can look to fumigate the world. And with Yagolhan being as big as the rest of the Tormalian kingdoms put together, that is a lot of rats.”
Congir chuckled. “Well said.”
Maerlos sighed. “I could not bear to witness a repeat of the Enslavement War. Faerna needs new blood to take the crown and defend her people. I wish Camion was here. I fear I am too old, my ideas too archaic.” He glanced out the window. “You’ve been out there, Nerris. You’ve seen it. The world is changing.”
“Don’t say that, your Majesty,” Nerris said. “No matter how the world changes, people still remember how you slew Yahd the Enslaver. They would follow you beyond the Great Cataract, if necessary. Besides, isn’t this why the Kolmian Alliance was formed?”
Maerlos smiled. “You are kind to say so. Yes, if Yagolhan were to invade, the member nations would stand with us. But if this Church situation dissolves Faernan stability, where would that leave them? We would be forced to tend to our own garden.”
Nerris frowned. The king had spoken truth. Of all the countries to make up the Kolmian Alliance, Faerna was the linchpin to it all. Dellain may boast the most troops in the field, Promeha the best riders, and Hilonia the best sailors, but Faerna had the best warriors.
“Any Yagol invasion begins with Agos,” Congir added. “For hundreds of years, ever since the Hilonians smashed the northern Yagol fleet, they have had no power in the Aristian Sea. And the Agosseans were dealt a grievous blow during the Enslavement War, not to mention the Liberation weakening their military power even further. If Qabala invades, we’ll have her on our doorstep.”
“I have my doubts about the loyalty of Laque Duchois as well,” King Maerlos said. “True, I hold his older son and King Owen his younger, but he hasn’t forgotten how he was forced to submit to the Palwells after the war. Nor is he like to forget the help I provided the Liberation of Agos.”
Lord Laque Duchois had been a Tornette loyalist to the end. He was the master of Lakeside Keep in the city of Zarseille, and Highlord of the Western Rises, the first line of defense against a Yagol march. If he were to let them pass, the consequences would be disastrous for Agos. But would the man’s pride allow himself to sacrifice his sons?
Nerris shrugged. What was he to tell them? If Qabala continued to get her way, there war with the east would be a certainty. Her new god would need the converts and the sacrifices which came along with it. But to do so would reveal his own part in her acquisition of a godstone.
“Your Majesty, have you ever heard of the Fatexion?” he asked.
“The godstone?” Maerlos asked. “It was said Yahd invaded the eastern kingdoms all those years ago with the intent of acquiring one of those stones and its power. He meant to rebuild the Aristian Empire with himself as Aeternus.”
“I have reason to believe Qabala succeeded where he failed,” Nerris said. “I witnessed her get run through with my own eyes, to no ill effect on her person. She now styles herself Queen Qabala Aeterna.”
“Balderdash,” Congir said. “There has been no record of a godstone since our barbarian ancestors migrated west and overran the Aristian Empire.”
“With all due respect, your Excellency,” Nerris said, “she appointed three Dume-Generals before I even left Yagolhan. Clystam only knows what she has been up to since then. She means to repeat Yahd’s conquest, but this time she has what he sought. Yahd could be killed; Qabala will not be. Your Majesty, reach out to her via other means. War will not avail the east this time around.”
Maerlos nodded. “I will think on what you’ve said.” He rose. “But I fear the rest of the Alliance may not except your unsubstantiated word. They may even favor a preemptive strike, if she does not make her intentions known. They remember what it was like as well, thirty years ago. Nerris, would you be willing to come to Syrutim this year and tell them in your own words what you know?”
“Absolutely,” Nerris said. “I owe Faerna that much. I give you my word, when Jhareth, Dist, and my hunt is over, we’ll return to Faerlin and accompany you.”
“Good.” Maerlos moved toward the door, which Sir Jacey held open for him. “If you’ll excuse me, I have preparations to see to with the imminent arrival of his Grace, Dominarch Venifus.”
Nerris and Congir stood and bowed, and Sir Jacey escorted the king into the corridors. Congir approached Nerris.
“I was wondering if you would mind sating my curiosity,” he said.
“Not at all, your Excellency.”
Congir scratched at his beard. “The woman who accompanies you, this Len-Ahl. Wherever did you come across her?”
“I encountered her in the Great Oak Forest,” he said. Why would the prime minister be interested in Len-Ahl? Nerris recalled Congir was common born himself. Could it be he was smitten with the shy faermaid? Congir was an older man, and giving over to pudginess, but if Len-Ahl were to accept a place at court she could hardly do for a better match than the Faernan prime minister.
“Have you ever noticed anything strange about her?” he asked. “Has she done anything out of the ordinary since you’ve known her?”
Nerris regarded the man warily. “The Great Oak Forest is full of strange people,” he said. “Le
n-Ahl’s no different than most.” He made no mention of the strange magic she had used to soothe him to sleep the first night they met, or the folk she kept company with. While these may be looked at as eccentricities in the country, some in the city would be quick to name them witchcraft.
“Forgive me,” Congir said. “I fear your recent acquisition of the Stonechaser Prophecy has my mind aflutter with legend and folklore. A prime minster should not delve into such fancies when practical matters must come foremost. By your leave, Master Nerris.”
Nerris nodded. “Excellency.”
Congir left the room, and Nerris stared after him. The feeling he had gotten when first gazing upon the man had not abated. Something was not right about him. What scared him more was the feeling was much the same as the one he got when thinking of Len-Ahl and her mysteries. At once, his course became clear. Len-Ahl could not stay here, and neither should he. The sooner he, Dist, and Jhareth got out of this rat’s nest of politics and back on the road, the better. And until he could be assured of her safety, Len-Ahl would have to come with them.
Chapter Nineteen
NERRIS WAS WALKING the castle garden with his cousin and Len-Ahl when the summons arrived, delivered by an out-of-breath messenger. The Dominarch had arrived in Faerlin, and would be meeting with the king soon. The Thrillseekers’ presence was requested as “spokesmen of the kingdom.” Nerris thanked the man and he hurried off to inform Dist and Jhareth.
“You never told me about that appointment,” Astoren said.
“That’s a new one to me,” Nerris replied, “but it makes sense if King Maerlos and Dominarch Venifus are going to be gnashing back and forth with each other. It must be a power thing. I don’t know what he’ll get by parading us in front of the Church, though. We’ve never been what you would call devout, and the Church has never had any fondness of the way the people view us. I think the Dominarch would rather they tell stories from the White Book than Thrillseeker tales.”
Secrets of the Stonechaser (The Law of Eight Book 1) Page 17
