Enchantment's Reach (Book 1)

by Martin Ash

  In regard to the latter question, Leth had put it to Orbelon only the night before. It was not the first time he had posed it, but previously Orbelon had given no comprehensible reply. This time he said only that he could conceive of ways by which such a union might be feasible. Leth had pressed him for more, but Orbelon had seemed evasive. Leth had the impression this was something that worried Orbelon.

  It was last night, also, that Orbelon had mentioned the Orb's Soul for the first time. He had spoken half lightly, half wistfully. "Your problems might be solved were you to bring me the Orb's Soul."

  At Leth's enquiry he had then become dismissive. "Who knows if it exists, or in what form? If it does it is lost or hidden within Enchantment, where neither you nor your people nor I may go."

  "But what is it?" Leth pressed him. "You say our problems might be solved if it were found?"

  Orbelon's ragged head shook heavily upon his bowed shoulders. "Leth, Leth, think no more of the Orb's Soul. I mentioned it as one might mention a god to whom one addresses prayers that are never answered. It is a chimera; it is perhaps nothing. Whatever it is, it cannot be reached."

  And then something extraordinary had happened. Orbelon stood, as did Leth, and as they were about to part Orbelon had approached Leth and embraced him. It was the first time they had made physical contact. It had been brief and Orbelon, upon releasing him, had raised his staff without another word.

  A little dazed, back in his study, Leth had felt his skin tingling warmly. In the subdued light he saw a faint bluish blur seemingly clinging to him. It had faded quickly and he had come away believing it to have dispersed entirely.

  *

  "Does Anzejarl need reasons?" demanded Hugo. "He has done what he has done. He was successful and launched his army upon a campaign of conquest, again successfully. Perhaps the Karai have spent centuries awaiting this moment. It matters little in the face of events. What relevance the reasons when their army sits just beyond our border, poised to attack us?"

  So the argument went back and forth for much of the morning. Leth remained adamant: he would send no more troops to Giswel, at least until he had a more reliable assessment of Karai intentions. He scarcely doubted that Anzejarl would now move against Enchantment's Reach, but much depended upon the manner and time, and Leth was loathe to concentrate all his forces until he could better determine the Karai strategy.

  The meeting broke up with little resolved. Leth and Hugo departed together. In a corridor they were approached by Master Briano, Duchess Mawnie's head valet. In paroxysms of anguish Briano brought the sad news of Mawnie's breakdown. Tearfully he followed as the two, Duke and King, made straightway for Mawnie's bedchamber.

  Mawnie slept, almost deathlike, for she was perfectly still and ghastly pale. A nurse waited beside her bed and by chance Doctor Melropius arrived to make his hourly check. He told Hugo and Leth what he had told Issul: that Mawnie would be unlikely to wake for several hours.

  "And what will be her state of mind?" asked Hugo.

  Melropius could only guess. "She may be calm, with no recollection of what happened. She may be melancholic. She may be unnaturally gay, or she could remain in the grip of the phantoms that have possessed her. In short, I have no useful answer to your question."

  Duke Hugo took Leth aside. "I cannot delay my departure tomorrow. As it happens, I had already made the decision that Mawnie will remain here. Lir too. They will be safer."

  Leth nodded. "Mawnie will have the very best attention, cousin. Be assured of that."

  "I know it." He glanced back at his wife, whose still face rested in shadow upon her pillow, then strode from the chamber.

  A short time later, working at his desk, Leth was visited by Lord Fectur.

  "I wished to speak with you on the subject of the Queen's journey, Sire" he said, settling himself upon a comfortable padded chair before the King.

  "What journey is this?"

  "To the village, Lastmeadow. I must confess I harbour misgivings about the security arrangements. I am also concerned about the reasons for the journey, which the Queen declines to reveal to me."

  "Fectur, I don’t know what you are talking about," said Leth, mildly irritated. "I know nothing of any journey, to Lastmeadow or anywhere. When does the Queen plan to undertake it?"

  Fectur's thin eyebrows arched as if in surprise. "When? Sire, she has already departed, some time ago this morning."

  "Already departed?" Leth recalled their conversation last night. Had Issul made any mention of a journey? He was sure not.

  "Sire, she impressed upon me that she had your confidence," said Fectur. "I believed you knew. Can I have been misled? I can think of no reason why."

  Leth thought rapidly. "You say she did not disclose the reason for this journey?"

  "No matter my endeavours, she would say nothing. I am inclined, however, to infer a link with her visit to Overlip yesterday, which I informed you of."

  "Why?"

  "She received a visitor yesterday, under my auspices. A peasant woman named Ohirbe, who hails from Lastmeadow. It was immediately after interviewing this Ohirbe that the Queen went to Overlip."

  "What did they speak of, the Queen and Ohirbe?"

  "I was not permitted to attend the interview."

  Leth was dumbfounded. Issul had spoken last night of the Legendary Child of the True Sept - this in connection with her visit to Overlip. There must be a link, then, with her sudden departure for Lastmeadow. He admonished her silently for not having been more explicit.

  He glanced at Fectur, who sat with his hands raised before him, stubby fingers loosely interlaced. Fectur was smug, and far more was going on behind that calculatedly bland brow than his expression would suggest. Leth felt an urge to be free of him.

  "You are concerned about the Queen's security, you say. Why?"

  "I recommended that she take an escort of, at minimum, a full platoon of the King's Cavalry. She would have none of it, disregarding my protestations. She took a mere eight, though they are among my best."

  "Eight!" Leth rose suddenly. "By the gods! And you let her go?"

  "Sire, the Queen made it plain that I had no choice. She stressed the importance of relative anonymity - I should add that she is disguised, though my men are in full livery. She made it plain that her wrath would know no bounds were I to interfere. I would have prevented her, truly, but again I was led to believe that your permission had been granted."

  Leth thought furiously. Issul, what are you doing? You place yourself at great risk!

  Should he trust her judgement, allow her to go her own way? No, he loved her too dearly. No matter her cause, he feared for her. If someone should learn her identity. . . . Eight men, no matter their skill, would be of little help against a determined enemy. At this, of all times!

  Issul, what has got into you?

  "I want a mounted platoon sent after her immediately. They will escort her to Lastmeadow and back."

  Fectur rose. "Very good, sire. I regret, they will almost certainly not now reach her before she arrives at the village."

  "Then they will simply bring her back to Orbia when her business is done. Send them now, Fectur."

  Fectur gave a curt bow and departed.

  King Leth paced the room, deeply troubled. What was Issul playing at? He regretted that he had not questioned her more thoroughly last night. This business must be linked to her reference to the Legendary Child and Grey Venger. She had spoken as if anticipating a communication from Venger. Leth had received nothing, but his mind seethed now with questions.

  Quite suddenly he was desolate as the realization slammed home that Issul was no longer at his side. He was overcome with the fear that he might never see her again. Never had he doubted how much he loved her; now he realized that without her he would have no desire to live.

  You should have told me, Iss!

  He left his chambers, unable to concentrate on work.

  When fatigued or troubled Leth often took to the parapets
of Orbia's great walls. From there he could gaze either upon the palace or out over the clambering, bustling city of Enchantment's Reach and the wildness beyond. This he did now.

  The wind was strong, whipping and moaning about the myriad marble towers. Cloud scudded rapidly southwestward. Above it wide blue spaces spread about a dazzling sun.

  Leth strode, his hands locked behind his back, telling himself that his fears were unfounded. Issul would soon be back, safe in his arms. It was unlikely that any unit bearing full Orbia livery would come under attack from brigands. Had she believed herself at risk she would never have gone.

  Moderately calmed, Leth stood and savoured the wind upon his cheeks, the sunlight warming his skin. A little further on, passing above a quadrangle, he spotted Pader Luminis coming from a library. Leth cupped hands to mouth and hailed him. Pader, halting, took a moment to locate his summoner. Leth waved. Pader waved back and made haste to join him.

  "It is a while since we have spoken, Pader," said Leth as the little man came up, somewhat breathless, beside him. "Let us walk. I have a yen to pick your brain."

  "Yours for the picking, my lord," replied Pader Luminis. "Though I fear you will find it to be but humble and disappointing grey matter. It rarely fails to disappoint me."

  Leth thought it might be interesting to compare the opinions of Pader Luminis - arguably Enchantment's Reach's wisest, most learned mage - with what he had learned from Orbelon. He took care in couching his questions, though, for Pader must not suspect that he was in possession of extraordinary knowledge. "Tell me of the gods, Pader. Do you believe they exist, as actual personalities?"

  "There can be little doubt that they exist in some form," replied Pader after a moment's thought. "But their personalities, as Haruman's Edict so rightly asserts, cannot be known."

  "Cannot? Absolutely?"

  "Were we able to enter Enchantment, or were they to apply themselves directly to us, then the story might be different. But as yet I say firmly, we cannot know them."

  Leth nodded. Recently Orbelon had begun revealing to him something of the personalities of the so-called gods. "How do you think they came into being?"

  "That is a difficult one, my lord. How do we come into being? We are the product of our parents. If the gods exist as physical beings, then the same must surely hold for them. But if they are truly gods, then they will have come from a divine source. Perhaps Enchantment itself is that source."

  "Do you know anything of the Legendary Child, Pader?" said Leth, shifting abruptly.

  "Why, that is the very topic I have just come from researching, at the behest of the Queen."

  "Issul?"

  "We had a long talk last night. She is keen to know all that is known of the subject. Regrettably, I am able to furnish her, or you, with very little. It is to the True Sept that we must turn to learn the full story."

  "Do you believe the Sept has the answers?"

  "They know more than we," asserted Pader.

  They stepped onto the battlements of the main parade ground. Leth saw horses being saddled and readied for a journey. Soldiers nearby wore the livery of the King's Cavalry.

  "Bring her home safely," he whispered.

  He and Pader reached Orbia's outer wall, the wind whipping about their heads. Leth paused, resting one foot within a crenellation. He leaned forward, his elbow upon his thigh, and let his eyes travel over the myriad towers and cluttered roofs of the city-castle, and far off the faintest shimmer that betrayed the brooding presence of the mountains of Enchantment above the low broken cloud.

  Closer by, on the other side of the wide moat at the foot of the wall and a short way off the main boulevard that led from the palace, a small plaza played regular host to a market. The plaza was lively now. Brightly hued awnings flapped in the wind; traders and craftsmen were at their stalls beneath, and entertainers of varying types and talents sought to amuse the citizens present and separate them from a modest portion of their income.

  "Did Issul give her reasons for seeking information about the True Sept, Pader?" asked Leth.

  The Murinean shook his head. "She was deeply troubled. She said something had happened which she believed darkened the future for us all. She did not elucidate and gave no hint that I should enquire further. But she wished to know whatever I might be able to tell her, not just about the Legendary Child, but about Enchantment, and the Karai also."

  "Surely these topics were covered in her years of schooling?"

  "I think she wished to be fully reminded, as much as anything. And of course, she sought to pick my brain, as you do, wrongly imagining that it is superior to her own."

  "Is it not? Are you here on false pretences, Pader?"

  "It is older, that is all. There are many times I would trade it for another if I could. One less prone to forgetfulness and distraction."

  Leth grinned. "Your brain is a national asset, Pader. We would be lost without it."

  "Then I bequeath it to you, my lord, gladly. When I am gone from this world, take this brain of mine and pick it as you have picked it all these years. It will pine otherwise, for it has grown accustomed to the practice."

  "Ha!" Leth slapped his shoulder. "Let us hope that day is far away."

  He cast his gaze absently over the rooftops and back to the little plaza. Something half-noticed caused him to look again. He squinnied his eyes.

  "Pader, do you see that?" He pointed.

  "See what, my lord?"

  "On the lip of the roof of that house, there, on the far side of the square. Do you see?"

  "Alas, my eyesight has gone the way of my brain."

  Leth turned back. A sentry stood a way along the parapet. Leth beckoned him. He came running and stiffened to attention. "Sire!"

  "Do you see that rooftop? Is there someone atop it?"

  The sentry peered hard, then drew forth a spyglass from his belt and put it to one eye. He tensed. "By the--"

  "What is it, man?" Leth snatched the glass, which the sentry now held for him. He found the roof he had pinpointed, and gave a gasp. "What is that?"

  In the circle of the glass he could a see a figure, hunched and dark, large, possibly the size of a small man but strangely avian in form. It rested in perfect stillness, like a gargoyle, but its eyes slowly blinked as it observed the crowded plaza below.

  "There is another, Sire!" blurted the sentry.

  Leth followed the direction of his finger. The spyglass found a parapet surrounded a slender pink tower. There squatted another of the creatures, its attitude like that of the first. And further along was a third.

  Leth quickly scanned the area around the plaza. With quickening alarm he identified as many as a dozen more, resting in the high places all about the plaza. Motionless, silent, menacing and, as far as those below were concerned, quite invisible.

  "By the gods," Leth breathed with sudden alarm, knowing what this must mean. "We are attacked! Sentry, sound the tocsin!"

  Even as he spoke one of the bird-things stretched and spread its broad wings. In horror Leth watched as it launched itself from its high roost, circled, then swooped upon the crowd below. Others now followed, gliding with sinister grace, circling once, then diving.

  The first of them rose again. In its talons it held a woman. Leth marveled at its strength as it back-flapped into the air, pecking savagely at its victim's head. High over the plaza it released her, and as she fell it dived again.

  The tocsin rang out. The folk in the plaza milled in sudden panic. Their screams were carried to Leth's ears intermittently, at the caprice of the wind. Again and again the dark death from above descended upon them.

  Soldiers came running along the parapet to join their King, but they, like Leth, could do nothing. Though they bore crossbows, at this distance they were as likely to strike innocents as the creatures they were intended for.

  The cavalry platoon assigned to intercept Queen Issul now cantered into sight through the great outer gate of Orbia's barbican. Alerted by the tocsin the
commander quickly identified the source of the disturbance and ordered his men instantly into the fray. At full gallop they made for the plaza, some with swords drawn, others loading crossbows in the saddle.

  A little girl in a bright blue frock and grey shawl, aged perhaps seven or eight, had broken out of the plaza and was running across an area of open ground towards the moat. Horrified, Leth saw a shadow cross her path. A winged-thing wheeled, glided fast, low above the ground, heading straight for her.

  Leth cried out, helpless. The creature stretched out its lower limbs, cruel talons extended, preparing for the strike. A single horseman had veered away from his platoon. Half-erect in the stirrups he brought his crossbow to his shoulder and loosed a bolt at the speeding monster.

  The bolt struck home, bringing a harsh shriek from the bird-thing. The monster slewed in its path, but only momentarily. The bolt was not to kill or incapacitate it. It adjusted its path and flew again for the child.

  The soldier leapt from his saddle, drawing his sword, and ran, placing himself between the little girl and her winged assailant. The creature threw back its head. The soldier ducked as it swooped at him. He stabbed, dived to the side, slashed and slashed again, threw himself down and rolled. The bird-thing struck the ground, wheeled around, hopping and flapping. The soldier darted forward and, nimbly dodging talons and beak, hacked into its neck. He struck a second time, a third, and the head rolled from its body. Without pausing the soldier gathered the child in his arms and ran for his horse.

  A mass of people were streaming out of the plaza now, falling over one another in their efforts to get away. The cavalry platoon was loosing crossbow bolts at the creatures in the air, but Leth saw no more of the bird-things brought down. A soldier was plucked from the saddle and borne high, then dropped. Another was struck from behind and sent flying to the ground, the bird-thing settling upon him and pecking viciously at his head.