She answered as quietly: “Just that no matter how you might believe you’ve shed your feelings for somewhere that was home, especially after it’s treated you... the way I was... you find out you’re wrong.”
I knew what she meant — no matter what evils Orissa had wreaked on the Anteros and there’d been many, I still felt that soar of delight when I came once more upon it.
But neither Irayas nor Orissa should be in our minds now. Our minds and eyes must be on the next step. I asked Rapili where we would moor.
“If you weren’t who you are and if we didn’t have orders from the Court you’d be sent to the Trader’s Port with the others. But you’re the personal guests of the King. Have your captain follow that boat there.” He waved at a gondola flying a large black and white striped flag. “That’s your pilot. I’ll take my leave now.”
The gondola pulled alongside and Rapili dropped his pack onto its deck and went after it, with never a word of thanks or farewell.
The boat led our three ships through the maze that was the canal system of Irayas. The city sprawled for miles, with some of the poorer sections on larger peninsulas or strands and the palaces of the nobility each on its own island or standing alone on pilings driven into the lake bottom. Irayas was laid out in elaborate disarray that was no more accidental than a path winding through a garden built by a master landscaper and I’d often wondered whether the islands had been magically built by the Old Ones. No one ever answered my queries, though.
Now I was wondering if Janela’s theory was correct and the Old Ones had retreated to the fabled Kingdoms Of The Night. With a chill, I considering what they might be like. And whether they were as far beyond the wizards of Irayas as they’d been of all western Evocators when Janos and I first came here.
It was probably an absurd thought, but I wondered what lay beyond gold and diamonds when gold was a simple transmutation and any stone could be given facets and sparkle with a few words of a similarity spell.
Kele thankfully broke my thoughts. “What’s this Traders’ Port that lunkhead spoke of? There wa’n’t anything like it last time we dropped our hook here.”
That was been no surprise — Hebrus had written to me about it several years earlier. It seemed King Grayyath had become disturbed his people were being corrupted by over-exposure to foreigners, even the few merchants allowed upriver beyond Marinduque, and so he’d ordered an island set aside with a deep enough anchorage for their ships, a compound for trading and luxurious villas for them to live in. All outsiders were confined to this area on pain of banishment or even execution.
I’d sent a carefully worded protest through Hebrus to King Gayyath, not only on behalf of all merchants but also because this was a return to Vacaan’s bad old ways when they huddled behind their magic and demonic protectors, reassuring each other they were the highest beings of creation and let their culture petrify. I’d never received answer and didn’t try again — it’d probably been unseemly for me to even think of advising another people on what they might be doing wrong, especially when I considered how blithely my own Orissa was walling itself up with complacency.
We entered a wide canal that went straight into a lagoon and I was pleased at this — even though our ships were intended for navigation on rivers as well as bluewater, they were nowhere near as handy as the gondolas and barges of Irayas.
We entered the lagoon and I started, not able to hold back the cry that left my lips. Ahead was the castle that would be our quarters — and it was the same castle I had occupied when first we came to Vacaan. Here it was I’d courted Omerye and for an instant the spires, gardens and turrets blurred to my eyes. It was here Janos had begun his betrayal and from here I’d been kidnapped to be tortured by Raveline’s henchman.
“Lord Antero?” Kele was beside me, her arm strong. I shook my head.
“Nothing. Just the sun.”
But I turned away from the castle and went to the taffrail, looking back while I regained composure.
Janela’s hand touched my shoulder. “This was the place?” She made no more elaboration. I nodded.
“Now,” she said, her voice hard, “is someone playing a cruel jest... or is he merely paying clumsy respect by showing his knowledge of your past?”
“I don’t know.”
“Nor do I. But if it’s the former... one thing that I inherited from my great grandfather was his long and perfect remembrance for evils done to him and those he loved... and his cunning at repaying that debt.”
I looked at her. For an instant, her hand touched the pommel of her dagger. Then she smiled. “But I think it is better, at least for now, to think we are being honored. Unless the memories would be too terrible?”
I began to answer, then stopped. “No,” I said. “Sometimes the echoes of the past, even though they can be harsh, can be comforting.” This was true.
Once more Janela looked at me strangely. “That, too,” she said, almost to herself, “is something that must be changed.”
The moment hung, untouched. I was the first to turn away.
“Captain Kele,” I said, formally. “We’ll moor at that long dock. And we might want to be leaving quickly. Pass the signal to the other ships, please.”
“Aye, sir,” and Kele’s voice became a bellow. “Turn out, watch below! We’ll have a breast and stern rope and springs to port. Shake a leg!”
* * * *
As I’d anticipated we stepped off our ships into silken luxury. There was enough room in the palace for an entire war fleet’s contingent, enough so each could have a private room. I was amused to find that most of them preferred to share their quarters with at least a friend or two. I’d expected some complaints when I ordered half of each ship’s company to be aboard their craft at all times, weapon racks unlocked and the watch alert, but there were none. Thanks to my company’s wide experience on foreign and not infrequently hostile shores, but all of us were in awe of actually being in what we considered the Far Kingdoms.
None of us, from myself to the Firefly’s cabin boy, wanted for anything. New clothes were given if ours were ragged, or else seamstresses were available if we’d rather have them mended. The kitchens were always open and anything a sailor could imagine would be produced by servants who were either blank-faced or smiling cheerily.
There was an even greater abundance of drink, but in this matter I sought the palace’s castelan, a cheerful gnome named Lienor, who hardly looked the spy for Gayyath I knew he must be and ordered all spirits locked up except for mealtimes and two hours after dinner. Sailors, no matter how dedicated and wary they are, will never turn away from a cask until it’s emptied.
Other needs were met, which I’d always assumed would happen. The people of Vacaan felt happiness could only come when all desires were fulfilled. So each chamber had one or more chambermaids and for the women among us there were serving lads who seemed to have no duties except what was requested of them.
Four women attended my own bedchamber, two very young and beautiful, two middle-aged and buxom, with the experienced smiles of women who knew how real pleasure could be given. I was polite to all four of them, but at my age hardly self-deceiving about my abilities and so I slept alone with Quatervals in the outer chamber. He disappeared for an hour with one of the older women, but after that remained as celibate as I, in spite of my urgings.
Janela was given her own wing on the other side of the mansion in quarters as luxurious as mine. If she had bed-companions I saw none.
Everything seemed placid on the surface, but as the days passed I grew worried.
Where was Hebrus?
* * * *
On the sixth day after our arrival Lienor requested Janela’s and my presence at the main entrance. Waiting there was another Wardens, this one in his middle years but just as hard and battle scarred as Rapili had been. Lienor announced him as Chares, head of all the Warders. I found it mildly amusing to see Lienor humble himself before the man, as if Chares was his master instead of
me.
I asked Chares what his rank was so I could address him properly. Chares said, “We Wardens have no titles and our rank matters only amongst ourselves. We are all equals, all dedicated to the safety of Vacaan.”
I asked what service I might do him.
“I have come to take you to the King,” Chares said, a note of self-importance ringing in his tone. “He has granted you an audience.”
This surprised me — King Gayyath’s father, Domas, saw newcomers instantly and then let time pass while he considered his actions. I’d expected Gayyath to continue that same practice.
“That is good news,” I said. “I welcome seeing King Gayyath after such a long absence.”
“I also,” Chares continued on, “bear unfortunate tidings. Your factor Hebrus was slain a week ago.” By his voice he might as well have been announcing the midday meal would be a few minutes late.
That took me hard. When you reach my years it is uncertain how a death can affect you. By the time you reach my years you know more people in the graveyard than the street and so you ought to become accustomed to the event. This is sometimes true, sometimes false. Now, I felt tears fill my eyes. Hebrus had not only been a good man, but with his death so died the last part of my youth. Chares was staring at me and his look was unsympathetic. No doubt he thought me a weakling.
Janela gave me a gentle pat. I took three deep breaths and set the matter aside. Later, when we returned from the court, we would hold the proper Orissan ceremonies to his memory.
“How did he die?”
Chares appeared uncomfortable. “Perhaps,” he said, “we should step into another chamber to discuss that?”
I led Chares into a cloakroom. As I did, I saw a smirk on Lienor’s face, as if he was already privy to the matter and had found it a rare matter, indeed.
Without softening his tone, Chares said, “Your factor was murdered.”
“By whom?”
“We do not know yet.”
“Under what circumstances?” I demanded.
Again, Chares looked as if he might be embarrassed. “Lord Hebrus was in the habit of visiting certain areas, certain taverns, for his private amusement. The partners he chose were those noted for, to put it bluntly, their toughness and propensity for violence. Lord Hebrus chose the wrong man, or possibly men, because he was found in his bedchamber, beaten to death. His assailants had stolen what they could before noises woke Hebrus’ servants.
“King Gayyath sends his condolences and says that the proper ceremonies were held to receive Lord Hebrus’ spirit and that he was also honored in our own ceremonies, being named an honorary citizen of Vacaan, the highest distinction we can grant a foreigner. A suitable public work shall be named after him and I can personally assure you that his killers will be found and dealt with under the harshest sections of the Royal Code, as if Lord Hebrus were a member of the court.”
“Why wasn’t I informed of my factor’s death on my arrival? He was an important part of my household and his death may well have an effect on the matter I’ve come to Vacaan to discuss.”
Chares hesitated. “Since Lord Hebrus was an important man, it was deemed necessary for a high court official... myself... to convey the message. Unfortunately, I was occupied with the King’s business in another district, and was unable to break free as promptly as I wished.”
Very thin, I thought. No one else in Gayyath’s huge court could have brought the word? Fortunately, I’d regained control and said nothing. Janela, her hand on my arm, must have felt the muscles tense because her eyes flickered over to me, then back to Chares.
The change in Vacaan was worse than I’d thought. I knew that every thing Chares said had been a lie. Hebrus might’ve fancied younger men but the types he fell in love with were much like he’d once been — ethereal gentle sorts, frequently having their first affair. And Hebrus was monogamous, staying faithful to each lover until the affair died a natural death. When he went seeking new companionship he would frequent libraries, concert halls or art galleries. Finally, Hebrus never drank.
I felt a chill. Vacaan had always been dangerous, its deadliness hidden behind a smile. Those who offended most generally simply disappeared and it was as if they’d never existed.
Hebrus had been murdered but not out of any passion. A business difficulty, perhaps. But I thought it interesting that a week ago we would have just been off the coast of Vacaan and Irayas’ magicians would have been sensing our arrival. All my senses were a-tingle. I didn’t think I was being an alarmist. Not after the encounter with the demon who called himself Senac and the certainty we would be opposed seeking the Kingdoms of the Night.
I would find time to investigate the death and, if possible, avenge my friend. But that would be later.
Now all there was time for was King Gayyath.
* * * *
“Why is it,” Chares asked Janela smoothly as our gondola coursed down the canals toward the king’s palace, “you don’t seem to have ever been presented at court before you left Vacaan? Certainly you would grace any gathering. And your family is more than noble enough.”
Janela’s eyes widened for just a flash, then she recovered. “I thank you for the compliment, Chares. But I was forbidden entry to Vacaan as punishment after I refused a brideoffer because it would have required me to give up my study of magic. I assumed you would have known.”
“I pay little attention to small matters like violations of protocol,” the soldier said. “This times are too parlous for trivialities.”
I interrupted. “Chares, our escort to Vacaan, Rapili, said there had been risings against the King but refused to say more.”
“Rapili is a good soldier,” Chares approved. “It would not have been fitting to discuss such matters with an outlander. He was not, however, aware of your... special relationship to the royal family.”
I doubted that but said nothing.
“Knowing this will not go beyond your ears,” the officer said, “there have been some fools deluded enough to think King Gayyath’s mercy is unlimited and to blame him for certain misfortunes the gods have visited on us. There have been false prophets, folk leaders, more than enough trouble to satisfy any soldier for several dozen lifetimes.”
Chares tried to look human, by which I mean wearied, but I sensed relish for such slaughter. I am too old and too rich to be fooled by men such as he.
He continued: “I fear it’s become necessary for certain special measures to be taken and, on occasion, harsh treatment dealt.”
“We saw some signs of that as we traveled,” Janela said.
“Not really,” Chares said. “A ruined city, or an area the King has been forced to embargo from trade... these are but slight examples. We would hardly wish to present the sterner face of our royal master to new arrivals, after all.”
“Could you be more specific,” I asked.
Chares’ gaze was cold. He held my eyes for a long moment, then looked beyond, across the blue-gleaming water as a fountain rose and gushed gold against the sun.
I remembered examples of the magic of Vacaan... a guardian city on its borders manned entirely by resurrected corpses and a land blasted bare by sorcery and the sun’s rays suddenly felt icy.
* * * *
King Gayyath’s palace showed no signs of the kingdom’s troubles. It covered five islands in the center of Irayas and its solid-gold domes still sent the sun’s splendor back into the heavens. The gardens were still a marvel of perfection and the magically-tamed animals and birds that wandered and flew through it were as I remembered. The grounds were crowded with richly-dressed noblemen and women and their retinues, strolling without a care; others, pacing, worried about the fate of their petitions; the hangers-on native to any court peering about, looking for the scent of scandal. Here was another change, though — in other times there would have been commoners and tradesmen waiting on their petitions. Perhaps King Gayyath had other channels for lesser people’s problems or perhaps this was a day when
only the upper classes were permitted the palace.
Janela, I could see, in spite of her obvious efforts to appear worldly, was as awed as I’d been the first time I came here... or, to be honest, as I was at that very moment, still caught in the shining wonder.
Our gondola pulled into a dock and we were greeted by an honor guard. When Janos and I had first come to Irayas the palace guard wore gold and white and their weapons were archaic and ceremonial. Now they were Wardens, immaculate in red and black, weaponry polished, modern and well-used. I noted the formal but relaxed manner they saluted Chares and even though I’d never been a soldier, thank the gods, knew this was one sign of an elite, war-experienced unit.
As we walked up the broad winding path, bordered by multi-colored ivory edgings, I asked Chares about his Wardens.
“Our purpose is but one — to serve King Gayyath in any manner he wishes and to hold his life and then the kingdom itself more valuable than anything else, including our own beings.” Chares sounded as if he were reciting from the oath.
I pretended alarm. “The household guards I saw on previous visits were more ceremonial than your unit. I hope no one has been mad enough to consider any... actions against the King himself?”
“Not as yet,” Chares said grimly. “But we stand prepared.”
“So King Gayyath himself created the Warders?” Janela asked.
“No. We were chartered by Lord Modin.”
Neither Janela nor I knew him and there’d been no mention of him in any of Hebrus’s dispatches.
“Forgive me, Chares,” I said. “But I’m embarrassed to say I know nothing of the Lord. Would you tell me a bit about him? I despise appearing ignorant, especially about someone as obviously important as the Lord must be.”
Chares agreed. “Lord Modin is one of King Gayyath’s most trusted advisors. He also takes a great interest in our formation. But he has no use for power or panoply, preferring to remain in the background so as to better help Vacaan and our King.”
Kingdoms of the Night (The Far Kingdoms) Page 12
