Enchantment's Reach (Book 1)

by Martin Ash

  At that moment the soldier who had rescued the little girl sped past. He still held the child in his embrace, but he leaned from his saddle and swung his sword cleanly at the bird-creature's neck. The creature arched and shrieked, blood gushing from the wound. It lifted off, abandoning the soldier it was attacking, and took flight.

  Quite suddenly all the bird-creatures were in the air. They rose, almost as one, and made off at an almost leisurely pace, across the city and away.

  Leth turned and raced along the parapet, down the stairway four steps at a time, to the parade-ground below. A squad of elite guardsmen fell in behind him, striving to keep pace. A cavalry mount stood tethered nearby. Leth vaulted into the saddle and galloped for the gate. In dismay his guardsmen pounded in his wake.

  Without pause he raced through the barbican and out onto the thoroughfare, then veered towards the plaza.

  The scene that met him was one of carnage. People wandered dazed and weeping. Many were bloodied; a considerable number, from his initial assessment, were dead. The cavalrymen had taken charge, establishing order as best they could and endeavouring to attend to the wounded. Squads of city militia were arriving at the double to take over.

  Leth passed among the wounded and distressed, giving words of comfort. He came upon a young mother clutching a little girl to her bosom. Leth recognized the child who had so nearly come to grief beside the moat. He knelt beside them.

  "Your daughter is safe."

  The woman nodded, not knowing the king. Her eyes were filled with tears and she was too overcome to speak. Leth tenderly stroked the child's head, then rose and walked across to inspect the corpse of the winged-creature. It was, he saw, birdlike only in its large, horny curved bill and prehensile toes with their cruel long talons. It was unfeathered. Its bulky body, packed with muscle, was clothed in short, dark, densely packed, mottled-brown hair. The skin was tough, calloused and leathery. The stub of the crossbow bolt, which would surely have stopped and probably killed a man, even armoured, protruded from its breast. The wings were of broad span, formed of a webby, fleshy membrane, small, horribly clawed hands at the midpoint of their upper side. The head, which lay close by, was flat and broad, emerging from the shoulders with little in the way of a neck. Narrow yellow eyes were set beneath a wrinkled pate.

  "It is a slooth," said a voice at Leth's shoulder. It was Pader Luminis, who had arrived behind the squad of guards.

  "A slooth?"

  "Fabled creatures said to haunt the mountains of Enchantment. Before today I had seen them only in paintings. They are more horrible in the flesh."

  "A fearsome foe," muttered Leth, mindful that only the one had been brought down. He had little doubt that this was the first word from the Karai.

  The platoon commander came alongside him. Leth said, "Can you locate the man who slew this thing?"

  Moments later a young soldier stood before him, tall, lean and fair-headed. "I commend you for your bravery," said Leth. "Your actions were exemplary, saving both the life of a child and one of your comrades. Was he badly wounded?"

  "He has lost an eye, Sire, and is severely mauled, but his life is not in danger."

  "You came close to bringing down a second of these creatures."

  "Regrettably, not close enough."

  Leth spoke to his commander. "What of casualties?"

  "Two of my men dead, at least four others injured. Of the citizens I have no final count, but the dead number at least seven, with several more harmed."

  Leth looked at the faces around him, which were uniformly pale and grim. "You all acquitted yourselves well. I am proud of you," he said, then turned again to the young soldier. "I note no insignia upon your arm. Are you newly-recruited?"

  "Aye, Sire."

  "What is your name?"

  "Shenwolf."

  "Well, Shenwolf, let it be known that I have commended your actions today. Continue to show the spirit, courage and initiative that you have displayed here, and you can expect to go far. Now," he nodded towards the plaza, where the young woman now stood holding her daughter's hand, nervously watching them. "there are two others whom I believe may wish to speak to you."

  Shenwolf bowed and withdrew. Leth spoke once more to his commander. "You were bound for Lastmeadow, were you not?"

  "Aye, Sire. But though my orders were urgent, I felt I had no choice but to intervene here."

  "Quite so. I would have expected nothing else. Your actions, and those of these good men you command, have averted what might have been a massacre. Are you able to continue now?"

  "I will have to return to the barracks for replacements."

  "Do so, and depart as soon as you can. Your mission is of the highest priority."

  The commander saluted and made off with his men. Leth cast his eye wearily about him once more, then looked at Pader Luminis.

  "We can doubt no longer, Pader. War has begun."

  III

  "How am I expected to respond to this? I do not even know what is going on!"

  In exasperation King Leth cast his eyes again over the sealed letter that had just been brought to him. It was addressed to ‘The Godless and Intolerant Monarch, Leth.’ Its message, written in blood red ink, had brought a jolt to Leth, being perhaps the last thing he had expected at this time. It read:

  ‘This word is written on behalf of one whom you wrongly term outcast, outlaw and criminal, whom sane and considerate men and women know truly as a man of courage, righteousness, wisdom and conviction. This man, known to you as Grey Venger, acknowledges a word and a request believed to come from your authority. The word is that the sacred Child is known. The request is that the Grey Venger, Enlightened Master of the One True Sept, should show himself.

  To you, Leth, we say: bring forth the proof. Deliver your evidence of the Child forthwith.

  Bring also your proclamation absolving the Grey Venger of all blame for crimes you have accused him of. Make it known that by your authority the Grey Venger is declared immune to prosecution or punishment in any form for said crimes, from the Crown or any other authority or individual. In short, restore the Grey Venger his due status as a free citizen of Enchantment's Reach, accorded the rights and privileges of all who enjoy that status. Furthermore, make it known that the True Sept is restored to full legitimacy, that all charges and restrictions pertaining to it are rescinded and that it is free to practice in accordance with the rights and privileges granted to any other legitimate body.

  Publish this proclamation so that all may be aware of it. Then shall you know more.’

  The letter was unsigned, though it bore the insignia of the outlawed True Sept. Leth passed it to Lord Fectur and waited while he scanned it.

  "Is this true, Sire, that you have knowledge of the Legendary Child?" enquired Fectur when he had done.

  "Not I," muttered Leth.

  "The Queen, then?" Fectur placed the letter upon Leth's desk and hooked his thumbs into the lapels of his gown. "This would explain her visit to Overlip yesterday. But can it be true, that she knows something of the Legendary Child?"

  Leth was reluctant to comment. He could almost hear the thoughts burrowing through the labyrinthine passages of Fectur's mind. He felt, uneasily, that anything he might say would be a betrayal of the woman he loved. But he could not dismiss Fectur now, much as he would have liked to.

  "And her journey to Lastmeadow, the visit from the peasant woman Ohirbe. . . ." mused the Lord High Invigilate. "It is surely the same business. Yet she kept you in ignorance, Sire?"

  "No," replied Leth firmly. "She made mention of the Legendary Child. She told me also to be alert for a communication such as this. Issul herself was uncertain, and unwilling to speak further until she had learned more."

  "Perhaps had you informed me of this earlier, Sire, I might have been able to make more appropriate arrangements in regard to the Queen's journey to Lastmeadow. I might have been better placed to deal with the situation as a whole." Fectur rocked slowly on the balls of his feet.
"You recall, of course, that the True Sept has endeavoured to establish contact with the Karai?"

  Leth grew warm with anger. "What do you insinuate?"

  "No insinuation, Sire. I am, rather, thinking aloud, trying to fit the pieces of this intriguing puzzle together."

  Leth stared down at the letter. "Who brought this?"

  "A boy. I questioned him. He knows nothing."

  "Questioned?" Leth well knew the implications of that word when used by Fectur.

  "An informal chat, Sire. The boy understood perfectly. He had been given the letter to deliver by a man he did not know. He was paid quite handsomely. It is probably almost true. I let him go."

  Leth moved to the window and gazed out. To him it seemed that too much was happening at once. Issul, you should have told me more!

  "Do you have instructions for me, Sire, in regard to this matter?" enquired Fectur softly.

  "I will wait, for now. I can do little else. Barring hazard, the Queen will be back the morning after tomorrow. I will consult with her then, and make a decision based upon her words."

  Barring hazard! He shut the thought from his mind. She would be safe. She had to be.

  "I could bring in the individual with whom the Queen spoke yesterday evening, in the Tavern of the Veiled Light," said Fectur. "My men have him marked."

  "Do nothing of the kind!" Leth turned back. "You would send Grey Venger scurrying far beyond anyone's reach."

  "Not if he believes we have access to the Legendary Child."

  "He does not believe it. Not yet."

  "But the thought that we might surely tantalizes him. I do not think he will willingly sever communications without being certain, one way or the other."

  "All the same, you will do nothing for the present."

  "Then. . . there remains this absurd and grotesque demand, Sire, that you pardon Grey Venger and restore the True Sept to legitimate status. It is beneath contempt, truly."

  "If Issul is able to furnish evidence of the existence of the Legendary Child we will have a point of negotiation."

  "Such negotiations will not be viewed favourably among the other sects and factions."

  Leth compressed his lips mirthlessly. It was not so long ago that the factions had shown a united front in opposition to him and his stance on the Deist Edict. Later, after Venger's failed assassination attempt, the others had turned upon the True Sept, unanimous in their call for the head of its leader. The influential Sept's fall allowed each of them to jostle for a more favourable position. They would not welcome any move to have the Sept reinstated.

  "It is complex," said Leth, unable to escape the feeling that Fectur was himself maneuvering into a position of personal advantage. "But Venger will hardly reveal himself in the knowledge that it is only to part company with his head, no matter the inducement. The situation may call for unusual measures. To this end I am prepared to call a special assembly of all faction heads and advisors. All depends upon Issul's news."

  IV

  Issul's news.

  What would she bring? What obscure business could she be involved in that would possess her to withhold vital secrets from him, her husband? Secrets which were, moreover, of value to her country?

  Leth was hurt and angry. This was not like her; they were confidantes. They had always trusted one another implicitly. There had never been secrets between them. Until now.

  Except. . . . Leth denied the uncomfortable thought that nagged at him. But another leapt forward in its place: surely whatever it was that Issul was engaged upon had not sprung suddenly upon her, out of nowhere. There was a new development in something that was longstanding, this was plain. For it to have propelled her into such swift and impetuous a response implied foreknowledge or familiarity of some kind.

  Ah, but what of your own omissions, Leth? The voice taunted him again from within. Are you so blameless?

  He knew he was not. He recalled the look on Issul's face the night she had enquired about the blue light she had seen beneath his study door. He had shamed himself and belittled her with his peevish evasion. She had tried to hide it, but he knew he had hurt her.

  But it was different, Leth protested. Orbelon had to remain a secret, even from Issul. So much was at stake. He had no choice.

  Leth thought about it. Issul might face similar pressures, a similar lack of choice. He was being unfair on her, then. But even so, if Issul had information about the Legendary Child, what influence could have been so strong as to discourage her from discussing it with him?

  Leth was not thinking clearly. He was tired. He was dazed by the manner in which events had escalated, so suddenly, on so many fronts. Talk was spreading throughout Enchantment's Reach like a breeze through a field of corn. Certain parties had been quick to seize upon the slooths' attack as yet one more indication that the gods were angry. Reports were coming through of unofficial gatherings in streets and squares. The word had been put about that Crown policy in regard to the Deist Edict was the cause of this latest misfortune, as it was all others. These were warnings, stated the doomsayers and political manipulators. The gods were jealous. They would strike again, and again, each blow being more powerful, more terrifying, more destructive than the last. They would punish Enchantment's Reach without remorse until they were once more granted their due recognition in the form of obeisances and worship.

  So the talk went. Of course, people were in shock. The slooths' attack had struck terror into the very heart of Enchantment's Reach, and such reactions were to be expected. So Leth passed no orders for the gatherings to be dispersed. Things would quickly settle down once more, providing the attacks were not repeated.

  But they would be repeated.

  This he could virtually guarantee. Despite his hopes and efforts to the contrary he was now at war with the Karai, for he did doubt that it was from Prince Anzejarl that the slooths had come. How Anzejarl had tamed them to his will remained a mystery, but the brutal fact remained that terror could rain from the skies at any time.

  Leth had doubled crossbow troops all across the city-castle and palace. He had ordered ropes, nets and sheets of steel mesh to be slung between towers, over streets and, where possible, over more open areas. These would provide a hindrance to the slooths when they next came. But these articles were in relatively short supply, and Enchantment's Reach was vast. He could not hope to cover more than a small area of the city.

  Leth knew himself to be occupying a more and more precarious position. His people were afraid and were looking to him for decisive actions and a swift resolution of the crisis. And the factions were losing no opportunity to exploit his dilemma and propose their own remedies.

  Despite all his efforts to keep private the news that the Karai were in league with a god, word had leaked out some days ago. This reinforced the factions' position, giving fuel to the notion that the gods sought revenge. Leth could feel the growing tension in the air now, not so far short of hysteria. A spindrift of violence, still rarefied and without form, but requiring little to transform it into a wave capable of immense and perhaps irrepairable damage.

  Is this how you work, Anzejarl?

  If so, Leth could but admire his enemy. But could Anzejarl be so cunning, so resourceful, so knowledgeable as to have precipitated all this? He was more than a man if it were so. More than a Karai. He was virtually a god himself, and for this reason Leth doubted. It had to be that the matter of the Legendary Child, if not entirely coincidental, was at least not directly related to Anzejarl's campaign.

  Leth considered what he knew of the tale of the Legendary Child. Said to be the spawn of a god, a demon, a source of destruction beyond imagining. Beyond that only the leaders of the True Sept knew, or so they claimed.

  But this news - the mere rumour that the Legendary Child existed - could be enough to swell the great wave that Leth feared. He had commanded Fectur to absolute silence, but he knew he could not delay in dealing with the issue for long. Grey Venger would demand acknowledgement in some
form. Everything depended upon the news that Issul brought.

  But the night passed, and the following day and another night. And in the morning Issul did not return.

  Another night, sleepless for the tormented King. Lord Fectur brought the news that three of his men, sent in advance of Issul with the peasant woman Ohirbe, had returned. They had left the Queen in Lastmeadow, expecting her to follow almost in their wake. Upon the road they had passed the platoon of King's Cavalry sent by Leth to guard her.

  Still Issul did not return. Leth's fears mounted and by the next morning an abyss of gloom had begun to open beneath him. He fought against the thoughts that rose to taunt and enfeeble him, but with growing conviction found himself contemplating what he had never before had to contemplate. Something terrible had happened. He had not been there when she needed him most. Now. . . .

  Alone in their bedchamber he buried his face in his hands. He could keep it at bay no longer.

  She was lost.

  SEVEN

  I

  An eternity, it seemed, of pain. Sickening, lurching motion. The world was topsy-turvy, tossed and hurled, a pounding blur of earth, grass and leaves, impossibly above her. A mouldering woody smell, mingled with leather and the warm fleshy odour of a horse.

  She could not move, nor bear to keep her eyes open. The agony in her head was blinding and fierce. She was jogged and rocked nauseatingly. Her whole body cried out, but she could do nothing. The darkness came and drew her back.

  When she next came to nothing had changed. The muscles of her gut and back ached abominably; she was stretched and restricted unnaturally, and afflicted by a raging thirst. The pain in her head remained, though its ferocity had abated slightly and the light no longer forced her to close her eyes. Wisps of her own fair hair hung within her vision and the ground still passed over her head in a horrible rolling blur.

  Still she could not move. But now she saw the horse's hooves and understood at last that the earth was not passing above her. She was slung over the animal's back, her ankles and wrists bound and linked by a taut thong passed beneath its belly.