by Philip Hamm
They hurried to their tasks without another word but glanced frequently at their two regal visitors. They often forgot how well-connected Nacyon was; to them, he was just their friend and companion of many years. And though they had met the real Queen in person, her affair with Boatman Crake had rather scuffed the shine from the honour. But they respected Rani Rhus; she was famous for her intelligence and even outsiders had a high-regard for her as a politician. Princess Quillaia was no less popular among their people. To have the pair of them, standing on their bridge, was as close to the gods as they were ever likely to get.
Captain Tringa sat in her chair and took command. The presence of the Rani was tempering her anger with Nacyon; whatever they wanted, it had to be serious. But that didn’t mean she was going to forgive him easily.
Rani Rhus took Nacyon to one side, “I know you trust your people, but it would be better if they never discover what this mission is about.”
“I understand,” he replied. “I was thinking the same myself.”
“This is going to be difficult. Assuming the priests haven’t found them already, we’re going to have to bring Faam and Taylia through the monastery and it will be obvious they’re not from Quill.”
“I could find some socks,” he said.
“They’ll need more than socks.”
“If I borrow clothes from the women, they’ll be suspicious.”
“I’m not worried about them being suspicious; as long as they don’t know the truth, it won’t matter what they think.”
He nodded, “I’ll see what I can do.”
19 - The rescue
The sole port on Nidus is a natural bowl over a mile across and several hundred feet deep. Piers and jetties have been constructed around the steep sides with wooden stairs leading up to the rim. From the north side, two lines of bird statues on plinths, with their wings outstretched, form a processional way, a mile long, to the cone of the Holy Nidus itself with its pair of guard towers at the front and the monastery for the priests and priestesses to the right.
On either side of the statues are the barrows of the ancient kings, brought to Nidus with their goods and chattels, to wait for Pater and Mater to take them to Junopta. And all around them, fanning out from the centre of the plain towards the snow-capped mountains in the distance, are the graves of millions of ordinary Quill citizens.
Apart from the Apus, there were no ships in the port; the way had been cleared for the Royal party. But in the sky above, Quill boats of every description, from galleons to merchant schooners, were waiting for the Queen. They would be watching with binoculars and telescopes to catch a glimpse as she began her long walk to the great doors of the Nidus and while she was being blessed inside, permission would be given for the ships to dock and disgorge their passengers so they could line the route for when she emerged. Thousands would then crowd between the statues and the graves to wave their flags, throw flowers and cheer. An army of conquistadors was getting ready on their galleon to hold them back.
Using all her authority, the Rani commandeered a large skiff from the priests who ran the port to carry her, Quillaia and Nacyon to the monastery. She had brought Driver Dunlin from the Apus to be their pilot.
One of the priests tried to enquire, as politely as he could, what they wanted and soon regretted his indiscretion. “This is Royal Business,” she told him imperiously and the man seemed to shrink visibly.
Hundreds of priests and acolytes were already on the processional way. Some were decorating the statues with garlands of flowers and streamers. Some were sweeping the broad flagstones of the path and others were opening the doors to the barrows so the ancient kings could give their blessing as the Queen walked past.
As they flew over them, Nacyon looked over the side of the boat at the graves below. His parents were down there, waiting patiently with the rest. He wondered what they would think of their son, dashing to save two Sagan girls rather than sharpening a knife or a spear to kill them. He knew they wouldn’t be pleased. He also imagined they would be disappointed he hadn’t returned to Sapadilla to reclaim his birth-right instead. But he wasn’t interested in their ambitions. He just wanted to be back on the Apus to begin the long process of apologising to Tringa for being rude.
Driver Dunlin brought them to the jetty on the roof of a monastery building and they climbed out. The rock of the Nidus, which gave the planet its name, towered above them. Because the worlds of the Third Sphere are nearly identical, each one has a similar feature on a parallel plain, and in the Quill Empire there is a Holy Shrine on each of their twelve. But only on Nidus has the rock been hollowed out to form a nest.
Rani Rhus took the lead. “I’ll deal with the priests,” she said. “You take the tunnel to the inner sanctuary and if anyone stops you, tell them you’re checking on the final arrangements prior to the Queen’s arrival.”
The monastery was a sprawling complex of small courtyards, dormitories, refectories, workshops, kitchens, libraries, administration buildings and teaching rooms. It was home to over a thousand priests, priestesses, acolytes, painters, sculptors and book illustrators: all the paraphernalia of the Quill religion. They kept the Holy Place clean and tidy. They tended the graves and they officiated at funerals. They looked after the pilgrims who came in their millions every year. They studied the Holy texts and discussed the deeper meanings. They sang hymns to keep the dead company.
Needless-to-say, the Queen’s Blessing was a great occasion and the corridors and courtyards were busy with people preparing. Baskets of confetti were being filled, flags and pennants were being gathered and the choir was rehearsing.
Nacyon and Quillaia had no trouble slipping away as Rani Rhus demanded to see the Head Priestess for an update on their progress. They could hear her voice barking orders as they walked as quickly as they could to the tunnel.
Nacyon had worried the priests’ entrance might be guarded but it seemed there was too much to do to have anyone standing idle. The door wasn’t even locked and they made their way around the outer corridor to the atrium between the outer doors and the inner sanctum without meeting anyone of consequence. With them, they carried the bundles of clothes he’d managed to borrow from the women on the crew.
The atrium was full of flowers. Great fountains of reds and blues rocketed from banks of vases, carnations and roses swirled from wreaths like Catherine wheels. Orchids and lilies held their heads like trumpets to greet the Royal guests. Flags of iris stood to attention and orange blossoms gave off an intoxicating scent.
The air was heady with pollen and Quillaia sneezed. Two women arranging the final decorations on either side of the inner doors looked up as they heard the noise. They stopped their work and bowed.
“You’ve done a magnificent job,” Nacyon told them. “But would you give us the room; the Princess and I must rehearse the Queen’s Arrival.” When they looked puzzled, he added grandly, “I will be escorting Her Majesty when she enters for the Blessing and I want my performance to be perfect.”
The two women bowed again and one said to the other, “We need to fetch the petals for the floor.”
“Thank you, ladies,” he said. “May the Mater reward you.”
They waited until the flower-arrangers were gone and then turned to the doors. There was a massive beam across the middle but no other form of lock. With some difficulty, he managed to slide the bolt far enough to open the left-hand door. He peeped inside. A second later, Taylia had him by the throat.
*
Faam continued:
From behind the pillar, I heard the door open. There was a muffled choking sound as Taylia attacked whomever had come through and then I heard Quillaia say, “Taylia, stop! We’ve come to help you…”
I ran around the pillar and saw her desperately trying to pull Taylia and Nacyon apart. “Let him go,” I said.
Reluctantly, Taylia released the Rao. He stumbled backwards and breathed deeply, his face red. “Pater, you were fast,” he moaned. “I thought you
were going to tear my throat out.”
“That was the idea,” she replied, going to the door to check outside before closing it again.
Quillaia and I hugged each other, “How did you know we were here?” I asked.
“I had you watched – my servant saw you being kidnapped by Rimmon’s men.”
“But how did we end up here?”
“We think Rhatany’s people brought you the rest of the way.”
“And how are we going to get back to the Golden Eyrie?”
“We’ve brought Nacyon’s ship – Rani Rhus is with us too.” She handed me a bundle of clothes, “Put these on - there are people everywhere but, hopefully, they’ll be too busy to notice us.”
Taylia unrolled her bundle. “It’s a dress,” she said, holding it up with a look of disgust.
“For goodness sake,” I said. “We’re trapped in the holiest shrine of the Quill Empire and you’re worried about looking girly…?”
“I can’t fight in this....”
“Good,” said Quillaia. “The last thing we want is a scuffle.”
Taylia put the dress over her head and let it drop to her ankles. I couldn’t help smiling. It was long enough but at least three sizes wider than my friend. She looked at me and I could see the muscles in her jaw tightening. She said, “Who…?”
“It belongs to Captain Tringa,” said Nacyon apologetically. “I had to steal it from her wardrobe. I borrowed yours from Radio Crake,” he said to me.
Mine was light blue and fitted reasonably well but I was slightly taller than the radio operator. My ten toes were visible below the hem.
Nacyon handed me a pair of socks, “This is the best we can do; if anyone asks, you’ll have to tell them your feet are cold.”
“That wouldn’t be a lie,” I said, putting them on gratefully.
“I would have brought shoes but they’re not allowed inside in the Nidus.” He also handed me a mop-cap to hide my hair.
“Lords, no,” said Taylia as Quillaia offered one to her. “I’d rather have my head cut off than wear that thing.”
“Which is exactly what will happen if we’re caught,” I snapped back at her. “Put it on and stop complaining. This is no time for pride.”
Silently protesting, Taylia put the cap on. She looked ridiculous; the dress hung from her broad shoulders like a pair of curtains and the cap was perched on her head like a dollop of ice-cream. But I didn’t say anything.
“Come on,” said Quillaia. “Let’s get you out of here as quick as we can.”
I asked, “Have we missed the coronation?”
“No but we’ll be cutting it close. Nacyon is meant to be escorting Zizania.”
“Thank you,” I said to him.
He shrugged, “It’s the least I can do to make up for all the years that you had to suffer with the Princess. But I can promise you, she’s changed. She’s realised the error of her ways and she’s determined to be a good queen.”
“I’m pleased to hear it,” I said but thought he was simply hoping for the best. I never suspected she wasn’t the same woman.
Quillaia led the way out of the inner sanctum and Taylia slammed the bolt closed on the door behind us. We left the atrium and walked quickly down the tunnel, passing two servants with their baskets of petals. They glanced at us, puzzled to see two extra bodies, and I had to grab Taylia’s arm to stop her from doing anything stupidly violent.
We paused by the entrance to the monastery. I felt self-conscious in the borrowed socks. I could see priests and other officials running around, barefoot, with their six toes prominent and expected one of them to notice my feet the moment we stepped into the open.
“We need to get to the roof,” said Quillaia. “There’s a skiff waiting to take us to the port.” The door to the stairs was on the other side of the courtyard.
I asked, “Where’s Rani Rhus?”
“She was talking to the Head Priestess.”
“I’ll go and find her,” said Nacyon.
He approached the nearest priest to ask if he’d seen the Rani. He made sure the man’s back was turned towards us and while they were talking, Quillaia, Taylia and I crossed the courtyard to reach the stairs.
It was probably the longest walk of my life. Even though nobody showed any interest in us, I kept expecting to be stopped and challenged. It wasn’t just our feet that could give us away; despite speaking standard Evigonese, Quill accents are very different and their sentences are often punctuated with extra whistles and clicks. We couldn’t afford for anyone to ask us questions.
A conquistador in baggy pantaloons, breastplate and boat-shaped helmet with a long ostrich feather, stopped us within a few feet of the door. “The roof is forbidden today,” he said. “You must walk to the port.” He was carrying an evil-looking halberd with a beak-shaped blade and there was a pistol on his belt.
“Nonsense,” said Quillaia. “Do you know who I am?”
“The order comes from the Highest Authority, ma’am.”
“My mother or my sister…?”
The soldier looked confused, “I’m sorry…?”
“Does the order come from my mother, Queen Zivola, or my sister, Queen Zizania or do you mean my aunt, Rani Rhus?”
The conquistador paled, “I do apologise, Your Highness…”
Quillaia turned on us, “Go and get in the boat,” she snapped. “I’ll deal with you later.” As we went through the door, I heard her say to the guard, “That’s the last time I hire servants from Sapadilla…”
Taylia and I ran up the stairs while Quillaia kept the conquistador from following. At the top, we found the skiff and the pilot waiting. He was smoking a pipe and staring at the mountains on the horizon. As Taylia stepped over the side, the dress rode up and he caught a glimpse of her bare foot. He put his pipe down slowly. He wasn’t a big man and Taylia towered over him. “One word,” she said, preparing to strike.
Wide-eyed, he shook his head quickly. I climbed in behind Taylia. He glanced at me and at my feet. Even though I was wearing socks, he knew they were wrong.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Driver Dunlin,” he said.
“Are you from the Apus?”
He nodded, “I’m the pilot.”
“The others will be here in a minute – they’ll explain.”
Driver didn’t look reassured. Two humans were on the surface of Nidus and that was more than any Rao or Rani or even a princess could excuse.
“It wasn’t our fault,” I said, seeing the conflict in his eyes. “Somebody is trying to start a war.”
Tentatively, he said, “Rickobites…?”
I nodded, “Do you know a man called Rimmon?”
A look of relief came over his face, “Aye,” he said, “No need to say more.”
I sat beside him and made Taylia sit down too. “We’re sorry,” I said.
He gave me a small smile, “Like you said, this isn’t your fault.” He picked up his pipe and lit it.
I could see Taylia itching to throw the cap over the side. It didn’t help that Driver kept glancing at it and at the dress she was wearing. Eventually, he said, “Is that one of Captain Tringa’s?”
“Yes,” she replied, tersely.
“It doesn’t suit you,” he smiled.
Quillaia, Nacyon and Rani Rhus appeared but they were not alone; a priest was with them. He was young and looking excited. He’d been given permission to watch the coronation on the Eyrie and Nacyon hadn’t been able to think of a good enough excuse not to let him come along.
Driver Dunlin took his coat off quickly and laid it across our feet. “Don’t say a word,” he added. “Even a Chuprassy would know you’re not Quill.”
Quillaia took the priest to the other end of the boat and sat him down with his back towards us. While she engaged him in polite conversation, Rani Rhus and Nacyon took seats in the middle and ignored us. As far as anyone else was concerned, Taylia and I were nothing more than servants.
&n
bsp; Driver Dunlin flew the skiff back to the port as quickly as he could. I found it difficult to refrain from asking questions; I’d seen pictures of the Nidus and the plain but never expected to see it with my own eyes. I was dying to ask about the barrows – I wanted to know which king was in each one and how old they were. I wanted to ask about the graves and whether they were for Quill who had died since the planet had been claimed or if they had been brought here from cemeteries across their empire. But the presence of the priest made speaking impossible.
“When you get inside the Apus,” Driver said quietly, “Make your way down the nearest stairs to the bottom of the ship where the Ambassadors’ quarters are. And mind your feet,” he added to Taylia. “I wouldn’t want you to get a splinter.”
We arrived in the port and let Quillaia and the priest get off first. Rani Rhus and Nacyon climbed out next and walked ahead of us. The conquistadors from the galleon were assembling on the quayside and one of the senior officers recognised the Rani and wanted to speak to her. As he came forward, the Rani made sure he didn’t block the way for us to get to the long gangplank of the Apus. Driver Dunlin followed behind.
We walked slowly because Taylia had to make sure her feet stayed behind the hem of the Captain’s dress and we kept our eyes down, as though we were humbled by the presence of Quill’s aristocracy. We passed the line of conquistadors and some of them made comments about Taylia’s appearance which she managed to ignore. Then we were on the gangplank and could see the doors into the hold ahead of us. I kept expecting a voice to call out, telling us to stop, but nobody did.
Inside the hold, we made our way to the staircase and climbed down quickly. At the bottom, we had to try several doors before we found the one to Nacyon’s cabin. It was only after I’d locked it behind us that I dared to breathe again.
Taylia threw the mop-cap across the room and hauled the dress over her head. “If I ever have to wear anything like that again, shoot me dead.”
“We’re not safe yet,” I said.
There was a knock on the door. Taylia looked around, found Nacyon’s bathroom and hid inside while I answered it. A small bald man was standing outside holding a tray with a jug, glasses and a plate of cakes. “The Rao thought you might like some refreshments,” he said.
