by Philip Hamm
“I always felt sorry for him – it couldn’t have been pleasant to be constantly going back and forth on behalf of the king just to listen to bad reports about Zizania all the time.”
Quillaia shrugged, “He found happiness with the big-bosomed captain of his ship and its large extended family. The last thing he wants now is power of any kind.”
“Apart from the obvious, what do you think Zizania wants?”
“That’s the trouble; she’s so unpredictable nobody can guess. You probably have a better idea than we do – you’ve spent more time with her in the last few years than any of us.”
“I’m afraid I’ve nothing good to say about her; she was never very kind to me. I don’t think she’s ‘evil’ as such, or even particularly bad, but I’m not sure I’d want her as my queen.”
“Rani Rhus says the same; my father had his faults but at least he thought about the welfare of our people. I’m not sure my sister thinks about anyone except herself.”
“I’m not even sure she goes that far – she does what she wants on an impulse.”
Quillaia sighed, “That’s what I feared.”
We saw Taylia coming back towards us. Despite not standing on the glass, my feet were getting cold and I was also feeling tired. It was time for bed.
“Will you come to lunch with my aunt and I tomorrow?” Quillaia asked.
“Of course – although it will probably be my breakfast by the time I get up.”
“You won’t be missing anything – the celebrations won’t start until the afternoon and then there’s the banquet in the evening. The coronation itself is the day after, followed by the blessing inside the Nidus – which you won’t be able to attend.”
“You’ll have paint me a picture,” I smiled.
Quillaia escorted Taylia and I back to the guest house and left us at the door. She was staying in the Royal houses further along the platform and said she’d come back tomorrow to show us the way. “And be careful,” she added, glancing at Taylia. “With so many strangers on the Eyrie, it wouldn’t be wise to wander around on your own.”
We went inside and found the students still running around like ponies newly released onto a meadow. I couldn’t blame them; they were excited by the coronation, by being on the Golden Eyrie and by the thought that Zizania, whom they all knew, was going to be Queen of Quill. We may not have liked her but I think we all thought of her as one of our own. However, as soon as they saw Taylia, they began to settle down.
We went up to the bedroom we were sharing. There was just the one bed but Taylia preferred to sleep on the floor, even on the Cissoid. There was a shower that never seemed to do more than dribble and a dry-lavatory with a bucket of sawdust by the side. I’d stayed in similar houses on the platforms of Rhizic and always found them a little bit primitive.
As I got into bed and pulled the hand-made quilt over me, I said to Taylia, “It’s difficult to understand why Quill wants to expand when they barely use the worlds they already possess. Here we are, crowded onto this platform like rooks in a rookery and there’s an empty planet underneath us. It’s almost the same on their other worlds; only the farmers and fishermen live on the ground – and even they, if you asked them, would swap their comfortable lives for a place on a platform, despite the fact they’re unsafe and utterly inconvenient.”
“It is strange,” Taylia agreed. “Our people would give almost anything to be able to move around the surface of Sagan without fear of an IZN raid.”
“They don’t appreciate the simple pleasure of being able to walk in a field or swim in a lake. The earth means nothing to them because the air is everything.”
“And yet all they’ve done with it is make these ‘sky-shacks’...”
“The glass square is impressive...”
“A waste of Exarch disks – they could have used them provide proper defences for their ships.”
“I think you’re probably right but their hatred of the Ulupan runs too deep.”
“Hatred is an immature emotion; it achieves nothing except conflict.”
I sighed, “Goodnight, Taylia.”
“Goodnight, she replied.
“Oh, and Taylia - it might better if you don’t use the word ‘shack’ where a Quill might hear you...”
“Understood,” she said and despite the hardness of the floor, turned over and went straight to sleep.
*
Fratris asked: “Did you see Rimmon on the Eyrie?”
Faam nodded, “He came to see Kalmia the next day while Taylia and I were with Quillaia and Rani Rhus. I saw him later when we returned to the house just as he was leaving. He was very charming, as usual, and hoped we would enjoy the coronation.”
Crotal asked: “What did he want with Kalmia?”
“He came to remind her the Rickobites had made a deal with the Sa’ic Company and the Cissoid now belonged to them.”
Fengtai said, “Was that true?”
“Technically,” she nodded. “As we were leaving Kajawah to come south, Xramarsis was being forced to surrender to the Rickobites. As you know, the Empire of Rickoby surrounds them on three sides and there was no possibility Kalmia’s people, who don’t have a strong military, could have stopped their ships from invading.”
“I can believe that,” he nodded. “When they entered the Penti Empire, we couldn’t stop them despite our navy, our border defences, and our military traditions. Though they took us by surprise, their ships were too many and too strong even for us.”
“Nobody could have guessed Rickoby had been building a fleet of warships over the previous fifty years,” she said. “None of us thought they wanted to dominate the Third Sphere that way. Their banks and their financial systems were all we believed they stood for. But they had been using their money to buy missiles, machinery and all the materials necessary, including Quill’s Pavonine generators, to equip hundreds of new and deadly ships. The fall of the Penti Empire told Xramarsis the threats made by the Rickobites who came to Kajawah were real and not a bluff. And rather than go to war, Kalmia’s Government surrendered. As part of the treaty they signed, they agreed to sell their half of the Sa’ic Company for the price of peace. Kalmia refused to give up the Cissoid and that’s why she was going to seek sanctuary with the Sagan following the coronation; of all the people in the Third Sphere, the Rickobites fear the Sagan the most.”
Fratris said, “Because they were the former soldiers of the Zarktek...?”
Faam nodded, “If the Cissoid had managed the reach their system, the Rickobites would have been unable to claim her.”
Crotal asked, “But what did they want with a university ship?”
“There’s the library for a start; there were books written by the Zarktek that Rimmon wanted to get hold of on behalf of his mentor, Procurator Ynch. But more than books, the Cissoid might have become a symbol. Rickoby had already bought the Selachii water worlds and Blatella in Xramaria. They now controlled Xramarsis and they had invaded and taken a dozen Penti systems. In the south, they had the support of several of Tun worlds and they were making overtures to the sultans of Saron. They had encouraged Quill to think they could go to war with Zamut and win. If the Cissoid had survived, she could have become a focus for a wider resistance.”
Fratris looked sceptical, “But it was just a ship for women and most of them had gone home before you even reached Nidus...?”
“Whatever might have happened, Rimmon made sure it never would. For the sake of his plans and those of the Cult of Adramelech, he was not prepared to take the risk of the Cissoid becoming a rallying-point for opposition against Rickobite rule. You might think it was just a ship ‘for women’ but many of its former students, like Quillaia and Zizania, were in positions of power. And if they didn’t have actual power, they had influence over the most powerful men in the empires.”
Fratris nodded, “Yes, I see that. And is that why Rimmon wanted to replace Zizania? Did he want to make sure she wouldn’t interfere with his plans?”
>
“That was the idea,” Faam agreed. “But he needed to make sure the people of Quill were on his side too.”
Fengtai said, “How did he do that?”
“By making sure they had an enemy to hate.”
Fratris said, “Zamut...?”
Faam shook her head, “Sagan.”
17 – Quillaia and Rani Rhus
Faam continued her and Taylia’s story:
The next day, as promised, Quillaia came to the house to take me to lunch with Rani Rhus. Though she wasn’t invited, Taylia came too.
The Golden Eyrie by daylight is a very different place than at night. In the darkness, it’s not obvious how spindly the whole structure is. The guest houses, towers and the palaces are connected by thin walkways and bridges with nothing but safety nets and clouds underneath. The whole platform feels as though it could break apart at any moment and I think the Quill must have exceptional faith in their ancestors because I certainly didn’t feel safe.
Rani Rhus was as pleased to see me as I was her. She even welcomed Taylia and was glad I had a Sagan as a bodyguard. “These are uncertain times,” she said. “We need every ally we can get.”
Her drawing room was small but beautifully decorated. Instead of plain wooden walls like our guest house, these were covered in exquisite wallpaper. Exotic birds peeped out from among long grasses; brilliant reds and blues among lime-green stems on a white background. The furniture was light and elegant. There were cushions on the sofas with finches and linnet motifs. There was a round table with a lace cloth by the window, already set with a silver samovar and the finest chinaware from Nide.
The window looked out over the glass square. Pilgrims were testing their faith and the visitors their nerve by walking across it in small groups. I could see the clouds and glimpses of the ground far below and could hear the creaking as the sun warmed the surface.
I spotted some of my students daring each other to go further out from the decking around the edge. They were laughing and giggling and having a good time. I ought to have been with them, I thought. Quill was still in mourning for the old king, all of the pilgrims were wearing black feathers; the girls should have been behaving with a little more decorum. Then I saw Vade Mecum, Kalmia’s deputy, telling them to settle down.
Rani Rhus invited us to sit and started to pour tea into tiny china cups. We helped ourselves to the selection of cakes. Taylia looked about as comfortable as a cat in a cage but I refused to let her stand by the door like a guard. I told her sit next to me and Quillaia made her feel welcome with a continuous supply of snacks.
“Your invasion of Zamut isn’t winning you many friends,” I said to the Rani.
“No,” she agreed. “My fool of a brother and my idiot nephew are leading us towards disaster. Have you heard that Zamut and Tun signed a treaty?”
I nodded, “The Treaty of Urbino.”
“If Zamut doesn’t have to guard its northern borders against an attack by Tun, they will be able to use the full force of their navy to retake their worlds from us.”
“Have you also heard the IZN has withdrawn from their blockade of Sagan?”
She sighed, “So, it’s true; we thought it was just a rumour.”
I told her about our encounter with my future husband’s forces. I tried to describe his warship and everything I’d seen on board but it was like trying to remember a dream. I’m not sure the Rani really believed me until I mentioned the Sagan comitatus.
She looked at my friend, “Is this true?”
“We volunteered,” Taylia replied. “The Council wasn’t part of the decision but they didn’t stop us. I joined with a hundred others and many more will follow us. Panadawn is the future of Evigone.”
The Rani looked at me, “Is this a new religion?”
“I’m not quite sure what it is,” I admitted. “But their leader is remarkable.”
“Does he have the Sagan Army on his side?”
“No – he freed their world but only the volunteers will fight for him.”
“That’s something I suppose. But in that case, what does the Sagan Council intend to do with their new-found liberation?”
“I don’t believe they want to do anything; it’s always been their desire to be left in peace.”
Rani Rhus looked at Taylia again, “I’m told you father is on the Council, is that true?”
Taylia nodded, “And Faam is right; our people are not interested in becoming warriors for hire, not for Zamut or for anyone. We volunteered to join James-Stone because he wants to end the wars in Evigone, not start them.”
The Rani drank her tea and tried to stay calm. “Have you heard the rumour that the Zarktek have returned? The seven Princes and their father have been found and are leading the Rickobite fleets against Penti…?”
“No,” I said. “But it would explain why the attack has been so vicious and unprovoked – they’ve always hated the Penti.”
“I’m worried Quern and Rhatany will persuade the Queen Quill’s interests lie with the Zarktek and not with the human race. Do you think Zizania will agree?”
“I think it’s unlikely,” I said. “She might have spent most of her time on the Cissoid being interested nothing but clothes and balls but some of what our teachers taught us must have sunk in; we had dozens of lectures on the history of the Zarktek and the Hundred Year War.”
Quillaia nodded, “I don’t think there was a week in the syllabus when it didn’t come up at least once. And we had tours of some of the battle-sites, didn’t we? Did Zizania go on them too?”
“Yes – I remember her being with us when we went to the Clachan Mines where the third Slave Revolt started and we stood on Astaroth’s mountain where the liberation of Mazurka began. I can still hear her complaining about the cold on Clachan and the heat on Mazurka. But it must have been obvious, even to her, that the rule of the tsars was bad. She might not have been paying much attention, but the ruins of cities, the monuments to the dead and the essays we had to write about the conditions the slaves were kept in couldn’t have passed her by completely. Rhatany and Quern might be ignoring the facts but Zizania isn’t ignorant of the effects.”
“I find that reassuring,” said Rani Rhus. “But it doesn’t mean she won’t let them carry on with what they’re doing. She has no interest in being a proper ruler – that much is obvious.”
“She’s still young,” said Quillaia.
“Faam is young,” her aunt replied. “But she’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
I smiled at that. “Zizania always said I was boring.”
“It’s not boring to be interested in the past - especially when it still has the power to affect the future. If the Zarktek have returned, we don’t need a feather-head on the throne.”
We heard people cheering outside. “The fly-past is about to begin,” Quillaia said.
Taylia took an immediate interest, “May we watch?” she asked.
“Open the window wide,” the Rani told the princess.
We stood up and Taylia helped Quillaia raise the sash-window. We were in an ideal position; facing the same way as the balconies of the Golden Palace where the Queen would be watching with other members of the Royal Household.
Outside, the houses were emptying and a huge crowd was gathering on the glass. I could see the visitors from other worlds standing close to the outer perimeter but the Quill-faithful occupied the middle. They started to point at the sky as they spotted the ships approaching.
Music began to play through the speakers. We heard cheering as the Queen and the rest of Royal Household appeared. Everyone was dressed in their finest clothes and hats, waving flags and pennants.
First to arrive were the tiny scouts, the swiftlets, twisting and turning in the sky. They were nothing more than wood and canvas, with a tubular fuselage and four aluminium masts forming a cross in the middle for the Pavonine field and two more behind, above and below, holding the triangular sails. They skimmed across the square in formation, m
ade shapes in the sky above and dazzled the audience with their precision.
“I have no idea where they find their pilots,” said Rani Rhus, shaking her head. “But they must be quite mad.”
“They’re very skilled,” said Taylia. “But their vessels are insubstantial.”
I had to agree with her; when they came close, I could see the pilots’ heads poking up above the open cockpits and if we’d been able to inspect one closely, I would have seen the stitching holding the canvas panels together. Compared to the solid bulk of a Tun charger or a Zamut hammerhead, they were no more than mayflies drifting on the breeze.
The vanguard of the fleet’s bigger ships began processing from the left to right; the frigates, hawks and falcons, light-blue pennants flying from every mast. I could sense Taylia weighing their strengths and weaknesses. All were carrying the new weapons, the missile launchers of various sizes, but they were still made of wood and even to my untrained eyes, they didn’t seem a match for the fleets of other empires.
The capital ships followed the vanguard. The great galleons of the eagle-class flew past sedately, led by the flagship, the QRN Aquila, with Quern, Rhatany and most of the men of the Royal Household on board. They fired a salute over the Golden Eyrie, the roar of their cannon deafening, and everyone cheered again.
The Rani asked Taylia, “And what would the Sagan make of our fleet?”
“Firewood,” she replied.
“Ha – that’s honest, at least. But how would you do it?”
“We know Pavonine fields are vulnerable to water; we would load bombs filled with liquid onto our APCs and short-out the generators. Your fleet would last less than a day.”
“Would the Sagan Council order such an attack?”
Taylia shook her head, “We would simply wait for you to leave. We have no quarrel with your people.”
“No,” Rani Rhus agreed, “Unless somebody chooses to make one.”
I thought it was an odd thing to say but before I could ask the question, a band started to play and the Quill anthem began to ring out across the square. The citizens of Quill sang along with the choir, their arms spread out like wings. The visitors from other worlds stood quiet and, like me, were probably reflecting on what the display of the fleet really meant. To Taylia’s eyes, it may not have represented much strength, but to the rest of us, it looked very aggressive. Quill was putting on its armour and getting ready to extend its war. The Zamut ambassador could have been under no illusion that the taking of Sapadilla, Damocles and Exitine was just the beginning. The envoy from Saron, whose empire had already lost Falk, must have been thinking the same.
