by Philip Hamm
I doubt if the other empires would have felt particularly threatened. Nobody from the northern hemisphere, not Rickoby, Xramarsis or Xramaria, had any cause to feel afraid and Tun’s Imperial Navy was too big and powerful to feel anything but contempt for a flotilla of wooden ships. And yet, this moment was significant.
When the anthem clashed to an end, a flight of swiftlets made another pass over and under the Golden Eyrie, streaming long tails of blue and black smoke to form the Quill flag. The crowd cheered and waved their arms, pennants and hats.
Rani Rhus sighed, “So much treasure thrown into the sky like confetti.” She turned away from the window and resumed her seat. “More tea, anyone?”
We stayed for another hour and talked about anything but Zizania, the Quill Empire or the ambitions of its menfolk. I spoke about the plays I had seen and Quillaia talked about the books she had read since leaving the Cissoid. Rani Rhus introduced poetry and music to the conversation. We avoided any subject connected with war.
To my surprise, Taylia joined in. I hadn’t been aware she was interested in anything but running and jumping but she showed an unexpected fondness for the fairy tales of the planet Eternity and for the rhymes of Parsing. With Quillaia’s encouragement, she quoted lines verbatim and even explained what they meant to her.
*
Fratris turned and glanced at Taylia. “Poems and fairy stories...?” he sniggered.
She’d returned from her walk with the baby and was now sitting under the geranium tree, holding him on her knee while he waved his arms around. Despite the cuteness of the tableau, there was no softness about the power in her shoulders as the muscles flexed or the hands that held the tiny body. “Did you really have to tell them that?” she said, frowning at Faam.
“War Master Jamadar,” said Fengtai, “was one of our greatest warriors but he was a famous poet before he became a Ranger. There is no shame in poetry.”
“And fairy stories are allegories concealing greater truths,” said Faam to Fratris. “Just because they’re told by mothers to their children doesn’t make them less important.”
Crotal added, “Rhymes help you to remember the lines.”
Slightly abashed, Fratris said, “But still...”
Taylia stood up and Frim’s nephew flinched as she came towards him. He stuttered, “I meant no disrespect...”
She put the baby in his basket. “If you were looking at the start of what might become another hundred years of war, what would you rather talk about? The coming death and destruction or the good things that you remember from your early years?”
“That’s right,” Faam agreed. “As we sat talking with Rani Rhus and Quillaia, we were only too aware that this could be the beginning of the end after fifty years of peace in the Third Sphere. Even if Quill was defeated quickly by a Zamut counter-attack, there were other forces gathering to continue the avalanche towards a war across the whole of the constellation. And it seemed obvious to us then that the Zarktek were poised to take advantage of the disunity between the human and quasi-human peoples. So, we talked about stories, poems and songs and tried to keep what was truly good about life in our minds.”
Crotal asked, “Did you dress up for the banquet?”
“I did – I’d bought a new gown from Thulia that I’d not had a chance to wear.”
“Did Taylia have to wear a dress too?” Fratris said, coming perilously close to being dunked in the canal.
“You wore your embroidered jacket and knee-length trousers, didn’t you?”
Taylia was now sitting by the basket, rocking the baby to sleep. “I don’t own a dress,” she said. “All that cloth makes it difficult to kick people,” she glanced at Fratris.
“The banquet was nice but nothing out of the ordinary happened,” Faam continued.
“Dull,” said Taylia. “But the music was okay.”
“As I said before, Zizania was nice to us and that was unusual but not unwelcome. Afterwards, we went back to the house and about an hour later, a servant brought a note from Quillaia asking us to meet her on one of the lower decks where she said we could talk without being over-heard. She said it was urgent.”
“You should have looked closer at the hand-writing,” said Taylia.
“I know; it wasn’t Quillaia’s and I should have spotted the difference. It was my fault and I take full responsibility.”
Fratris asked, “Who wrote the note?”
“We never found out exactly but I assume it was Rhatany or Quern.”
“What happened next?”
“We got changed and then went to where the note said Quillaia would be waiting.”
Though he’d guessed the answer, Fengtai said, “And was she...?”
“No – just Rimmon and ten of his men, including Naaman.”
“What did you do?”
“I was going to throw them off the walkway,” said Taylia. “I could have defeated them easily...”
“But they were armed and got to me first. They forced Taylia to surrender and then used surgical pads soaked in chloroform to put us to sleep. When we woke up, we were no longer on the Golden Eyrie.”
“Where were you?” asked Crotal. “Inside the Tax Collector...?”
Faam shook her head, “We were inside the Nidus itself, on the planet’s surface; the holiest shrine in the whole of the Quill Empire and somewhere no human, especially not a Sagan and a half-Sagan, should ever be.”
18 - The Holy Nidus
Faam continued:
I felt a hand shaking me. I’d had a headache from the Golden Eyrie’s altitude but I woke-up with an even worse one. My mouth was dry and the stink of chloroform was still in my nostrils. I had no idea where I was.
“Faam,” said Taylia. “Wake up – we’re in trouble.”
I rolled over onto my back. “Oh crap,” I said.
Above me, with its wings outstretched, was a red eagle standing on a huge wooden pillar. There was another to the right, in blue, also with its wings spread. The first was Pater Junopta, Father of the Past, and the second was Mater Quill, the Mother of Life; the two holiest symbols of the Quill religion.
I sat up and looked around. We were inside a bowl cut from the solid rock, several hundred feet across, topped with a glass roof. Behind me, rows of seats rose up sixty feet with a massive double-door in the middle.
“We’re in the Holy Nidus,” I said, suddenly feeling very cold.
“I thought it probably was,” said Taylia, helping me to stand.
“We’re not supposed to be here...”
“Which is why we are – this is Rimmon’s plan.”
“But why...?” My head was fuzzy and I wasn’t thinking straight.
“One Sagan and a half-Sagan defiling their temple – what do you think the Quill will do?”
“Kill us...”
“And our people...?”
“They’ll be blamed. Sagan will be accused of trying to attack their gods.”
Taylia nodded and said, “If I ever see Rimmon again, he’ll wish he never left Barras.”
“I don’t understand – what do the Rickobites get out of it?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But we have to get out of here before we’re found.”
“We’re on the surface of the planet – how will we get back to the Golden Eyrie?”
“We don’t – we try and return to the Cissoid and hope nobody sees us here.”
“How are we going to find a boat?”
“We’ll find something,” she said. “But we’ve got to get out of here first.”
She went to the doors and I took a moment to look up at the statues of the ancestors. With their twenty-foot wingspans, jewelled eyes and cloisonné feathers, they were truly magnificent. It was just a pity they couldn’t actually help us.
The doors were formidable. Taylia pushed against them with all her strength but they didn’t move an inch. “There’s a bar across the outside,” she said, peering through the crack between them.
While Taylia climbed up the bank of seats and searched, I looked behind the pillars of the birds and found a room the priests and priestesses used. But the only exit was on the other side of the doors.
Taylia had reached the top tier and was looking up at the glass dome of the roof. It had slender iron beams, like the spokes of wheel, radiating out from a circular boss in the centre. The glass was thick, distorting the view of the clouds outside. The outer edge, where the iron frame met the natural rock, was sealed with concrete.
“This came from a Rickobite ship,” she called down to me.
I’d seen similar domes on the aft-castles of the Tax Collectors, above the hall where their wretched bank did business. “The bastards get everywhere,” I said.
Taylia gave me a look, “Swearing about them isn’t going to help.”
“There doesn’t seem to be anything else I can do.”
Taylia took a last look at the dome, “I can’t reach it and even if I could, I don’t think I’d be able to break the glass.” She came back down and joined me in the middle of the room.
Rather pathetically, I asked, “What are we going to do?”
“We’ll have to wait until somebody comes in.”
“They’re not going to let us walk out of here alive.”
Taylia was looking up at the roof again and I asked her what she was thinking. “We couldn’t have been unconscious for more than an hour,” she said. “I’m trying to work out what time it is and how long we’ve got until the Queen and the rest of the Royal Household arrives for the blessing.”
“But we don’t know where the Golden Eyrie was in relation to the Nidus...”
“It was at the eastern edge of the great continent; I saw the coastline through the clouds while I was standing on the glass platform. When was the coronation due to start?”
“At about ten in the morning...”
“It was after midnight when we were captured and the Nidus is in the mountains of the smaller southern continent, yes?”
I nodded. “On a high plain,” I added.
“The sun rose here four or five hours ago and it will set again in ten hours or so; it’s going to be dusk again when they get here.”
“How does that help?”
“Can you see any lights?”
She was right; there were no lamps on the walls. “They must bring torches...”
“But it’s going to be dark,” she repeated. “If we can get out of here, it won’t be too hard to stay hidden outside.”
“But Taylia, we can’t get outside.”
“Not yet,” she agreed. “But if we can stay hidden for long enough, we might be able to escape after the blessing is over.”
I looked around the room, “Where...?”
She turned towards the door and froze, “Somebody’s coming,” she whispered. “Hide behind the pillar – I’ll deal with them. This could be our chance.”
I saw the look in her eyes. I’d seen it once before in the face of my husband when he was protecting me on Arroba; an absolute determination to destroy any threat. “You can’t kill anyone,” I said. “Not here – not in the holiest place in the entire Quill Empire.”
She held up her hands, “I don’t have a weapon...”
“Your hands are weapons...”
We heard the bar being removed and voices speaking. I ran and hid behind Pater Junopta’s pillar.
*
Back on the Golden Eyrie, Nacyon was woken by his servant, Quail, shaking him by the shoulder. He had been having a pleasant dream about soaring through the sky on his own pair of beautiful wings and Quail’s intervention was extremely unwelcome.
“Blessed Mater,” he said angrily. “Whatever is the matter?”
“Rani Rhus wants to see you immediately,” Quail replied.
“What time is it?”
“Just after one in the morning...”
“I’ve only been asleep for an hour...”
Nacyon had enjoyed the banquet enormously. Not only had he been seated at the top table, above everyone, including Rao Quern, but the Queen had been charming and attentive towards him a way the real Zizania never had nor ever could be. They had laughed and joked together and drawn the envy of the rest of the family, especially Rhatany. It had been a wonderful evening. Afterwards, the Queen had asked him to escort her from the hall and up to her chambers. It was all such a contrast to how he’d previously been treated at these events. It was no wonder he had dreamt of flying.
And now he came crashing down to earth. “What does the Rani want?”
“I don’t know,” said Quail. “But she sent Princess Quillaia to fetch you.”
Nacyon hauled himself out of bed, “Clothes – get me some clothes...”
A few minutes later, only half-dressed, he ran out of his room with Quail trying to put a cravat around his neck. Quillaia was waiting for him by the front door.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “Has something happened to the Queen?”
“No,” she said, “Something worse.”
He was still trying to get his arm in the sleeve of his jacket as she led him outside. He tried to ask questions but she told him to keep quiet. “The Rani will explain,” she said.
They hurried along the rows of houses and entered the Rani’s house by a backdoor. They ran up the stairs and into her drawing room. Rani Rhus was dressed and waiting. “Good,” she said. “Nacyon, I need your ship.”
Quail had tied his cravat too tightly and he ripped it off. “Would one of you like to tell me what this is about? Why have you dragged me out of bed in the middle of the night?”
“Rhatany wants to start a war with the Sagan.”
He nearly laughed, “Whatever for?”
“We don’t know but it has something to do with your friend Rimmon.” She watched his reaction closely.
“I wouldn’t call him a ‘friend’,” Nacyon replied.
“Would you be surprised to learn he’s kidnapped the half-Sagan, Faam, and her full-Sagan bodyguard, Taylia...?”
“I would be shocked, my lady. How would that even be possible?”
“He took them from one of the lower decks. We think they were tricked.”
“Obviously – but why do you think Rhatany is involved?”
“They were not taken to the Rickobite ship but to one of his. We believe they’re on the surface, inside the Holy Nidus, where they will be found tomorrow if we don’t act immediately to bring them back.”
“Forgive me, Rani, but how do you know this?”
“I was worried about Faam’s safety,” said Quillaia. “The Rickobites are not the only people on the Eyrie who might wish her harm so, I had her followed after the banquet. I’d hoped she would be safe once she reached their house but then, it seems she was persuaded to go out again and Rimmon and his men were waiting for her. They had a boat; it didn’t take them to the Tax Collector but to one of Rhatany’s ships – which flew away in the direction of the Nidus.”
“That does seem quite conclusive,” he admitted.
“Then don’t stand there like a stork in the river – help us.”
“What about the coronation? The Queen has asked me to be at her side...”
Rani Rhus paused and stared at him, “Yes – she was very friendly towards you at the banquet. You told me she’s a monster and now, suddenly, the two of you are the best of friends. What did you say to her, Nacyon? What have you promised?”
“Nothing,” he said (which was true). “She’s come realise, because of the gravity of her new situation, that I’ve always done my best to defend her. She was showing her appreciation.”
She didn’t quite believe him but she said, “If we hurry, we can be back before the ceremonies begin.”
She suspected he wasn’t telling the whole truth but she couldn’t put her finger on the reason. Though she had witnessed Zizania’s tran
sformation, she had no inkling it was because she hadn’t been watching the real queen at the banquet. But she didn’t have time to question him further. “Quickly – we must get to the Apus and to the Nidus as soon as possible. If Kalmia discovers Faam and Taylia are missing, she’ll turn the whole Eyrie out of their beds to find her. And that will make returning them as secretly as they were taken impossible.”
*
The Apus was moored, along with other ships connected to the Royal Household, beside the wharf behind the Palace of the Past. Nacyon had to rouse Captain Tringa and the bridge crew as quietly as possible. Tringa tried to get an explanation out of him but he wasn’t sure how she would react. She was loyal to Quill and the idea of a Sagan warrior and a half-Sagan academic poking around the Holy Nidus might have been too much for her. Risking a scolding later, he told her to keep quiet and do as she was told; he was the Rao of Sapadilla and this was Royal Business.
Wayfinder, Clocks and Driver Dunlin were taken-aback to find a Rani and a Princess waiting for them on the bridge. They could barely believe their eyes and spent the first few minutes stumbling over their words before Rani Rhus started telling them what to do. “Nacyon says you’re the best crew in the navy,” she told them. “Prove it by getting us away from the Eyrie as quickly as possible.”
Wayfinder managed to ask, “Where are we heading, my lady?”
“The Nidus,” she replied. “But I’ll thank you not to mention that to another soul when we return.”
