About fifty feet beyond the fire netting draped down in a wide arch. Glowing shells dangled from that netting, making a glistening bower for the woman who waited.
Queen Badryia lifted her regal head as we approached. She was sprawled on an immense, fur-covered couch. Even lying down she was one of the most imposing monarchs I have ever met. She was tall — tall as Rali’s giantess friend, Polillo — which was easily seven feet. She was dark like the other women perhaps in her late 50’s, with a shield-shaped face like Shofyan and Taisha. She had the kind of beauty that defies age, with high cheekbones and a noble brow.
As we came close and she sat up, her blue and green robe fell away, exposing large, supple breasts as firm as a maid’s. Her hair was piled high into a crown and fixed in it were all sorts of dazzling gems and rare metals, as well as a few of the glowing shells. She had fan-shaped earrings that dangled nearly to her shoulders and seemed to be made of colorful feathers and bits of jewels. A dozen bracelets graced each arm and thick ropes of what seemed like pearls decorated her neck.
We bowed low and I heard her jewelry clatter as the Queen leaned forward to get a better look at the ones who had been so bold as to intrude upon her watery kingdom.
We said nothing. In such circumstances, royalty always speaks first.
I heard whispers and chanced a look to see Taisha perched next to her mother and whispering in her ear. I thought I heard Janela’s name passed on. When Taisha was done the Queen nodded.
Then she said: “I understand I owe you thanks for keeping my grand-daughter from fattening up a serpent.”
I started to answer but remembered my role as lowly male advisor.
“You are most gracious, Your Majesty,” Janela said. “But we don’t deserve thanks for doing what is any mortal’s duty when she sees a child in danger.”
And I thought: Good woman!
The Queen laughed, rich and deep. Then her tones turned colder as she said: “It is fortunate for you, Lady Greycloak, that little Shofyan was naughty today. Else you might not be treated so gently by this Queen!”
Janela answered: “Fortunate indeed, Your Majesty. The goddess smiled on us all this day. On the child for encountering friends when she most needed them. And on us for discovering the same.”
I thought: Well said!
Queen Badryia must have thought the same for she rewarded us with another rich chuckle.
“Your mother taught you well, little sister,” the Queen said. “Now, tell me, and answer me honestly if you value my continued good nature.”
“I’ll do my best, Your Majesty,” Janela said.
The Queen leaned closer, jewelry rattling . “Are you a witch?”
“Yes,” Janela said. “I have been blessed with such powers.”
Badryia nodded in satisfaction. “I thought so.”
She turned to Taisha. “Didn’t I say, earlier... before Shofyan turned up missing... that I sensed sorcery about?”
“You did indeed, Your Majesty,” her daughter said.
The Queen turned back. “I have a little talent of my own,” she said. “Enough to keep a few nasty things about at that end of the lake.” She was obviously referring to the slug-things and the demon. Badryia sniffed. “Sorry if they inconvenienced you, my dear,” she said. “But we lake dwellers try to discourage surprise visits as best we can.”
“And fearful things they were,” Janela said. The Queen smiled hugely, pleased at the flattery. “It was only by chance that I sensed the Demon Of The Lake you have posted there.” Janela shuddered, whether for real or as part of the flattery I wasn’t certain. “What gave her away was her hunger. It was so great it set my own belly to growling, even though I was in fear of my life... and the lives of my companions. Then, once I suspected her presence I tried to turn that hunger on our attackers instead of us.”
I listened as closely as the others, for I had wondered as well how Janela had pulled off her life-saving trick.
Another deep laugh from the Queen. “Poor Salamsi,” she said, obviously meaning the demon. “It was well past her regular feeding but I’ve been so busy I hadn’t time to tend to it.”
“I hope she wasn’t injured,” Janela said.
The Queen shrugged. “By those little nasties? Not hardly. Rest assured, only her dignity was harmed for being fooled. But if I were you I’d not pass by her watery lair again if you return that way.”
We accepted her advice in silence, for the Queen’s expression had turned thoughtful. While she considered she called for stools so we could make ourselves comfortable and food and drink so we could break our fast. We nibbled on delicacies such as fresh shellfish with a dollop of hot spice on each and sipped a light wine that had the tangy taste of a morning breeze and made one feel alert and at ease with the company.
Finally the Queen broke off her thinking and addressed her concerns. “You haven’t said what you are doing here,” the Queen pointed out.
“We are on a holy mission,” Janela said. “We live in a land far to the west. And we have suffered many evils of late.”
The Queen made a gesture with her hand. “You mean, plagues and demons and such?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Janela said. “Plagues and demons and such. Things became so critical that at last our witches gathered in a great council. And that council prayed to our goddess, who graced us with her presence in a vision.”
Janela hesitated a moment, no doubt inventing a few more palatable twists in her highly-altered account of the doings in Orissa. But the Queen had been swept up by the drama of her tale and she motioned to her most impatiently.
“Yes, yes,” Badryia said. “The vision. Do go on.”
“Well,” Janela said, “the goddess appeared and she told the witches that the answer to our troubles was in an a distant land — far to the east. A kingdom where the Old Ones still reign.”
“You mean, Tyrenia,” the Queen said.
“Tyrenia?” I blurted, forgetting myself. “Would that perchance be the realm we call ‘The Kingdoms of the Night?’”
Shocked silence greeted my indiscretion. The queen studied me for a long moment. Then she turned to Taisha. “You are right,” she said. “He is a pretty thing. Although I like my meat a little younger.”
Then she said to me: “I understand you’ve taken a vow of celibacy, my sweet.”
I nodded, bobbing my head like a fool so I could fit easily back into my role as a pampered, slightly mad plaything of a rich and powerful woman.
“Yes I have, Your Majesty,” I said. “My wife nearly took a switch to me after I made the vow. But when I told her the goddess bade it — and said I had to go find the place of the Old Ones along with Janela — she only slapped me a little, then commanded Janela to take me with her so I could get over my silliness.” Then I suddenly made myself haughty. “Silliness, indeed,” I said in a deeply injured tone. “Our great goddess came to me and said that I — Amalric Antero of Orissa — must seek that realm in my purest state and that I was to let no man or demon or woman stand in my way.”
The Queen laughed, slapping her thigh. “He has spirit!” she said to Janela. “I like a little spirit to spice up my bed. Pity’s he’s mad.”
Janela’s finger made a circular motion about her temple. “My grandmother said the same the thing, Your Majesty.”
“You should adopt our practice,” the Queen said. “We send our males away as soon as they show the first signs of leaving childhood behind. They must dwell on the islands, making their way as best they can until we allow them to visit us on the lake during certain times when it is known that we are fertile. It’s a difficult life for them, to be sure. But they do well enough, even if we do lose a few now and then. We keep them sweet with little gifts and we have a few other festivals, which to tell the truth I make up on the spot. There’s nothing like a little tumble with no thought of child-bearing duties in mind to keep a glow in a woman’s cheeks.”
Janela glanced at me, made a thin smile and said: “I
quite like that system, Your Majesty. You can be assured I’ll suggest it to my grandmother when we return to Orissa.”
Badryia nodded in great satisfaction. “Tell my sister in Orissa that it’s really the only sensible way to keep them in their place, poor things. It’s a pity, really, that the goddess made them that way. I am a woman wise in the ways of the world as well as the heavens and I still don’t understand how men can turn from such lovable little things as children to such great boors as men, causing us women no end of grief, if you let them, and still behaving as if they were children, who have unformed minds, after all, so they can be forgiven.
“But like all men they swagger about as if what they had between their legs was anything more than what the goddess gave them to pleasure us. Getting in quarrels with one another and wanting to solve it with a fight instead of talk. And they can be such sour creatures, don’t you think? Taking offense at the slightest thing and supposing that the goddess herself plots against them. And pout! Why they pout more than any babe!”
The Queen laughed at some memory. Then she said, “My grandmother had a man once who took offense at some nonsensical thing he believed she’d overlooked on purpose. This on their bridal journey, mind you, when she was doing her best to please him. And do you know he didn’t speak to her for an entire day? He only rattled about the canoe in a great dark mood, punishing her with his silence. He even boasted about his treatment of her to his friends when they returned.”
“What did she do to set him straight, Your Majesty?” Janela asked, shooting me another amused look.
“Why she cut out his tongue,” the Queen said. “Then he had good reason to keep his silence.”
“I wish you could return with me, yourself, Your Majesty,” Janela said, quite fervently. “Every woman in the west would praise your name to the skies.”
The Queen nodded — this was a royal truth that needed no further comment.
“Then you should listen to me closely on another matter, little sister,” she said. “This journey of yours... to Tyrenia? I believe it to be the same place you seek, although I am not familiar with the name you use... what was it?”
“The Kingdoms of the Night, Your Majesty,” Janela said, refreshing her memory.
“Yes, that’s it. Kingdoms Of The Night, indeed! What drama! What silliness! Must have been a man that called it that.” Janela nodded and smiled that, yes, this was so. The Queen continued. “I know the tale well. We tell it to our children to ease winter’s drear. It is a myth of never-ending sunlight and warm breezes that the people of Tyrenia enjoy the year round, thanks to wizards who are wise as they are kind. And it is also said that the city sits atop a glorious mountain with emerald spires glittering in the sun.”
“That is the same story we have heard,” Janela acknowledged. “But in our land it’s also said the city is besieged by dark forces that grow stronger by the year, and if that city falls, those evil forces will engulf us all.”
“Yes, yes,” the Queen chortled. “We speak of the same place. For all I know there really was such a city long ago. But I strongly doubt it still exists.”
She waved a royal arm, taking in her thatched palace — and beyond. “We have evidence enough of the Old Ones all about us,” she said. “Ruins of the ancients in such plenitude it is no wonder our imaginations are fired. But I must tell you that we — the People Of The Lake — have dwelt here amongst those symbols of the Old Ones’ former greatness longer than any other. We have found the wrecks of their mighty ships that once plied these waters. We have dredged up their weapons in our nets. We have even come across bits of their magical knowledge that we have incorporated into our own.
“But I tell you this, little sister. The Old Ones — whoever was their enemy — were destroyed. Their glory is a thing of the distant past and who is to say that it’s a pity? We made a place here. And we live well. It is our time, now. Theirs is past. Let us all praise the goddess and take pleasure in that simple fact.”
“You are very wise, O Queen,” Janela said, “so I question your thinking only with the greatest of reluctance. However, may I ask you this: Is all really that well in your kingdom? Have any new difficulties arisen — difficulties that might have been caused by black magic?”
Queen Badryia’s brow furrowed. She was not used to having her word questioned. But I could see something else in those imperious eyes: a small, but growing light of awareness.
She said, very slowly: “Yes. There have been things happening of late that puzzle me.”
“Such as the wizard with the great horn,” Janela said, “whose music casts such a powerful spell that people willingly scramble to their deaths?”
The Queen suddenly seemed furious. “Azbaas,” she hissed. Her guards clasped the hilts of their long knives, as if waiting for her to order our throats slit. Then she said: “How do you know of King Azbaas?”
“One of our hunting parties encountered him,” Janela said, quite calm. “Fortunately they were not seen and equally as fortunately, the protective spell I’d cast shielded them from the affects of the horn.”
Badryia nodded, soothed — if only slightly. “As I observed before, little sister,” she said, “you are a very lucky woman. You would not have liked to have fallen into Azbass’ clutches.”
“He is your enemy, Majesty?” Janela asked.
The Queen shrugged, relaxing slightly. “Enemy? Not really. Let’s just say we’ve agreed to be wary of one another.” She sipped her wine, reflecting, then said: “He is a new king. He’s ruled the Epheznuns for ten years or more. They are the largest of the savage forest tribes but until his reign they were in disarray, always squabbling amongst themselves. Azbaas was a minor shaman but with a great talent of making folk fear him. He used that talent so well that over time all his opponents were quelled, one way or another. Now he’s unified the Epheznuns so they answer only to him.”
“Using black magic I assume, Majesty?” Janela asked.
Badryia sighed. “I fear so. It’s said he’s made a bargain with demons. I don’t normally listen to such things but with Azbaas... who can say? He is the sort of king one tends to suspect of such things, even if they might not be true. We get on well enough, however. He has no power on the Lake, as I have no power in the forest. We trade at times and if any of my people stray into his realm he returns them without injury. And I do the same.”
“But you don’t trust him, Majesty?” Janela said.
“In addition to being a man and having habits even more disgusting than common with his sex,” she said, “he’s an ambitious king. I doubt if he’s satisfied merely ruling the Epheznuns. Witness his attacks on the other forest dwellers. You may have noticed that many races are represented in these parts.”
I nodded along with Janela, remembering Quatervals’ description of the vastly different types of folk they’d seen scurrying mindlessly to their fate.
“It’s said,” Badryia continued, “all of us in this region were brought here by the Old Ones from across their kingdom, and that our ancestors did their labor for them — many, perhaps, as slaves. I’ve always believed this, for how else do you account for our many differences?”
“How else indeed, Majesty?” Janela murmured.
“By any course,” she continued, “one would come to the same conclusion. However, before Azbaas we all seemed content to stay in our own lands — with the occasional blood feud erupting, of course. But they were easily settled, for this is a difficult place to live and wars sap one’s strength for doing more important things — like staving off starvation.”
“But after King Azbaas came along,” Janela said, “things were not so sanguine.”
“No,” Badryia said. “They were not.”
She peered at Janela. “Do you think, little sister, that his growing power has something to do with what you fear afflicts your own land?”
“I can’t say, Majesty,” Janela said. “But I also can’t deny the likelihood.”
“If yo
u persist with your journey,” the Queen said, “I fear your budding theory may be tested. Because — save the way you came — there is no route away from the lake that Azbaas does not control.”
Janela and I glanced at one another. Another barrier had been set in our way.
“I suppose we’ll have to find out, Majesty,” Janela finally said. “If you will let us pass, we must seek an audience with King Azbaas and pray to the goddess he will look upon us as kindly as you have.”
The Queen snorted. “Not likely.”
She turned to Taisha to confer in whispers. After a long discussion she reached a decision.
“I must confess I don’t like what I’m about to do,” the Queen said. “Which is to use a woman who has won my respect to further my own purposes. However, I hope you understand I have my own people to think of. And that one way I can assure their future is to permit you to risk your own life and the lives of your companions.”
“Then you’ll let us continue, Majesty?” Janela said.
The Queen nodded. “Yes, you may pass. And I’ll alert my spies to keep close watch on what transpires. I can learn much more about Azbaas when I see how he treats you.” She paused to consider more, then said: “I shall also supply you with a document written in my own hand,” she said. “It will be a letter to my...” and her tone turned sarcastic — “good friend and brother monarch.” She gave us a thin smile, then went on. “I’ll tell him I owe you all a great service and that it would be a kindness to me if he greeted you warmly and assisted you any way that he can.”
“Thank you, Majesty,” Janela said for both of us. “The people of Orissa will be forever in your debt.”
The Queen shook her head. “I doubt it,” she said. “More than likely they’ll curse me for letting you fall into Azbaas’ clutches.”
She raised a royal hand to signal that our audience was at an end.
But as her guards hastened us from her presence she called out one final thing:
“If you live,” she said, “and if Tyrenia really does exist... tell the Old Ones that Queen Badryia sends her warmest greetings. And that the People Of The Lake wish them good fortune... now and forever more.”
Kingdoms of the Night (The Far Kingdoms) Page 29
