The Wraeththu Chronicles

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The Wraeththu Chronicles Page 95

by Storm Constantine


  "Your arguments seem sound," I said, still reluctant to speak.

  "Well?"

  "Well. It's not the Gelaming exactly that have the interest in me. It is their Tigron."

  "Ah, Pellaz-har-Aralis," Ferminfex said softly, looking beyond me. It was strange to hear that name quoted with such respect."Yes," I agreed, "it is he." I wished I didn't have to go on. It was like ripping out my own heart, to put it on the desk before us, and watch it bleed. Why, after all this time? Why should it still hurt? Am I just crazy? Is that it? I'd always sort of knowns that one day I'd have to tell someone, but it was still hard.

  "So," Ferminfex prompted, "and what interest does the Tigron have in you?"

  "It's hard to explain."

  "Is it? Then try." Ferminfex leaned forward on his desk, his chin resting on his clenched fists.

  I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes. "A long time ago, long before Pellaz became Tigron, he and I traveled together. We were . . . close. Of course, it had been mapped out for him from the moment of his inception what he was to become, but we didn't know, you see. We were aware of the fact that Thiede had his eye on Pell, and for that

  reason, Pell tried to progress in caste as quickly as possible. Looking back, I can see we were so stupid—blind. To Thiede, I started off being an admirable bodyguard, someone who could teach Pell how to survive, but eventually, I became rather an inconvenience. There was no place for me in Pell's grand future, as far as Thiede was concerned. He hadn't counted on our feelings for each other. It was because of my heritage, you see, which, I'm afraid to admit, is Uigenna."

  Ferminfex sucked in his breath at that. "Ah, I do see! Now there's something Phaonica would rather keep quiet, I'd bet! The Tigron was once chesna with a har of the Uigenna; hardly a savory background. How embarrassing!" He laughed out loud. "I'm glad you understand," I said drily.

  Ferminfex waved his hand at me. "Sorry, it's just that the Gelaming are such a pompous lot; so sanctimonious. I find your relationship with the Tigron is simply poetic justice, which they well deserve. The Gelaming would do well to remember their own origins at times!"

  "I agree."

  Looking back, it becomes obvious that Thiede had planned to get rid of me from the start. He bided his time and then... smack; it came. I couldn't look at Ferminfex's face as I told him about it. Oh no; I didn't want to watch any pain mirrored there. I looked out of the window, speaking to the sky. I still feel that Thiede's plans were far too ornate and fanciful. Why kill Pell at all? Was it just to fool me, having him murdered under my nose? Did Thiede think I'd just forget about him then? Probably. Uigenna are not famed for the depth of their passions. It was only later that Thiede understood the extent of my grief, the madness that it inflicted on me. I'm still not sure if I've recovered my sanity. For years I believed Pell to be dead. I'd burned his body myself. I knew I had to try and forget, but deep inside, something must have told me. I don't know. It was as if I knew, because whatever I did, whoever I was with, I couldn't stop thinking about that hare-brained, idiot, lovely child; my Pellaz. It was totally uncharacteristic of me, and still is. As far as Thiede was concerned, as soon as he'd grabbed Pell from my clutches, I was simply past history. But there was something he hadn't accounted for; Pell had a heart and a mind of his own. True, he was still Thiede's creature, through and through, but as long as I lived, Pell would look for me, and if I was dead, Thiede was afraid Pell might still look for me. Dangerous. An unhinged and bizarre state of mind. A messy wound that Thiede just could not suture. What a dilemma. Eventually, I meandered my way back to Galhea; not intentionally. Terzian's people took me in and when Terzian's son Swift went in search of the Gelaming looking for his father, I went with him. Oh, I was petrified of meeting them, sure enough, but at the same time. ... An exciting, but terrifying, thrill. I wanted it. Why? When I reached them, I still knew nothing about what Pell had become; nothing. I went to them unarmed, in every sense. Perhaps that was a big mistake, perhaps it wasn't. It was certainly inevitable. Seel was there with them, utterly Gelaming by then. He ignored me.

  I stopped speaking; clouds had covered the sun outside.

  Ferminfex shifted in his seat, leaning forward. "Did they tell you then about the Tigron?" he asked.

  This story was delighting him. I put my head in my hands, the taste of Imbrilim in my throat, the memory of so many faces filled with contempt. I had dredged these thoughts up from a deep, dark dungeon of my mind. Difficult. It had taken years to suppress them. Now I felt dazed, swamped, unsafe.

  "Tell me? I don't. . . . It's . . ." The room was electric around me, Ferminfex's fire crackling, popping like a pyre. Outside, black birds were lamenting, voices echoing.

  "Please try, Cal." Now my host was blatantly eager. It was foul. When I looked up from the darkness the day was bleached and stretched. "You must let it out, Cal. Relax. Come on, it can't hurt you now." (It can! It can!)

  I gulped air through a throat that was squeezing itself shut. Ferminfex squatted beside me, I'd literally collapsed. I was on the floor. He put his hand on the back of my neck, hauled me into a sitting position, pushed my head between my knees. "Are you alright?" Now his eyes were filled with concerned not morbid hunger. Had they ever been otherwise? I don't remember. I nodded weakly at him. He stood up to fetch me a glass of wine, which I had to hold with both hands.

  "I'm sorry," I said, clambering back onto the chair. "I don't know what happened to . . ." And then the glass fell from my fingers to shatter on the floor. My body arched, all the muscles flexed to agony. The sound of my mindless, almost divine, grief was the cry of a huge, tortured beast. The room was full of it, more noise than my frame would allow. Ferminfex was white, unsure of what to do. I hurt so much, every fiber of my being vibrating with a real yet imagined pain. After a while, like a spirit wind dying down, the feeling began to recede, back into me. I sobbed, sucking air into my lungs, wiping tears from my nose and finding that it was blood.

  A subdued Ferminfex offered me a soft cloth to wipe my face. I don't think he knew what to say. We'd touched on something forbidden. We both knew that, without even mentioning it. But it had to be faced; that was another shared certainty. I felt raw, opened up, ready to be examined. That was an accurate analogy, but we'd have to work fast before the wounds healed.

  "Can you continue now?" Ferminfex asked me.

  "Yes," I said. "I want to."

  "Can you remember everything?"

  "Not yet; but I will. I have to begin."

  "Then take your time." He gave me another glass and sat down.

  I remembered that day in Imbrilim so clearly. Strange that before now I hadn't really been aware of forgetting it. Habit; must be. We'd just been waiting around, Swift and I, waiting for something to happen. Swift was quite ill with it all. Me, I felt as if there was one hell of a big stone hanging over my head by one fragile thread. It was vile. Why couldn't they just get on with whatever they wanted to do with us? One day, when Swift was out of the way, they sent a guard to take me to Arahal. One of Thiede's top dogs is Arahal. Then they made me wait in his pavilion; more agony. When he came in, he was very brusque with me. I remember saying, "OK, do your worst," having no idea just how bad that could be. He handed me a photograph. It was of a splendid har, obviously Gelaming, robed in feathers, crowned in feathers and silver filigree.

  "Do you know this har?" Arahal asked. "Do you . . . remember him?"

  I must have looked at him stupidly.

  "Why?" I looked at the picture again.

  "Just answer. Do you?" He took it off me, leaving my hand in the air, holding nothing.

  "Well, it looks a bit like someone I knew once, yes, but he's dead now. It looks like someone called Pellaz."

  "Yes, it is," Arahal said coldly. "I was afraid you'd say that." It was then that the cold dread started creeping in from the diaphanous walls of the pavilion, invading my flesh, penetrating deep. With it came a vivid recollection. A scream. A horse's scream. Flying blood and bone. The rain. Cold. Co
ld. Cold. I thought I'd learned to control it. My heart was going mad. Panic. It hadn't happened for a long time. With that memory came the feeling of death; my death. My brain exploding, my soul being sucked away. I was frozen; an imbecile. "Calanthe!" Arahal said. After a moment, I'd mustered enough self-control to look at him. He smiled then and the smile was almost gentle. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to go to Immanion," he said.

  "Why?" A husky little question.

  "Because Thiede is anxious to talk with you." He waved the photograph at me. "You've caused no end of trouble in Pell's name, haven't you. Cal, that's bad for us. Very bad. For the simple reason that the har you thought was dead lives on. He is Pellaz-har-Aralis, Tigron of Immanion."

  It was a shock. It was a great shock. What more can I say? Another slice of the past removed from my heart. There was silence in Ferminfex's room. He lit another cigarette. Outside, it had begun to rain; the day was dismal.

  "There's more isn't there?" he asked.

  "Oh yes, there's more. But I don't think I'm supposed to remember it. What's happened? How come I can speak of it now?"

  Ferminfex shrugged. "I don't know. Have you really tried to tell someone before?"

  "I think so. I can't remember. This is scary, isn't it?" Ferminfex nodded. "I'm afraid I must agree with you." "It's not just my sick mind is it?"

  He smiled. "No, it's not just your sick mind. I'd like to flatter myself that I was the key needed to turn those locks in your head, but if I am then someone else is turning it, not me. Are you ready to go on?" I shivered. "I'm afraid. I don't feel safe."

  "We have all day, no need to rush. Come with me." He took my arm and helped me to rise. My legs were like jelly. Why did I feel like this? What happened had been years ago. I'm not a weak person. Memories, however harrowing, should not affect me like this. I thought I'd got over all that in Galhea.

  There was a couch at the other end of the room, next to the fire. Ferminfex told me to lie down on it. He wrapped me in the woolen, fringed blanket draped over the cushions. My fingers were freezing. He took my hand. "Let's make this a little easier," he said. "Relax, Cal. Let me take you back."

  Simple hypnosis. His voice washed over me and talked me back. It was easier that way. Living the past, I could not experience the pain of the present. I found myself sitting in a small room. I'd been there for some time. The building was the administration office in a town some miles north of Immanion. I hadn't slept for several nights. Neither had I eaten anything. They kept bringing me food which I wouldn't touch and talked in whispers behind my back. I was sitting on the edge of a narrow bed with my eyes closed, thinking of nothing. Then someone came and touched me on the shoulder. They said, "Calanthe, Lord Thiede wishes to see you now." They had to help me walk. My mind was a blank. If I tried to think at all, I was Hooded with images of Pell's blood. I could feel the sting on my cheek where a shard of flying bone had cut me. I could smell the hot, sweet perfume of fresh blood, I could smell burning. They led me into another room. The rooms were all the same there. Tasteful, functional, soothing. Elegant plants and comfortable furniture. A har sat behind a desk, his feet crossed at the ankles on the glossy surface. A har with flaming red hair and an unmistakable aura of immense power; Thiede.

  "Ah Cal," he said sociably. "Oh dear, you don't look at all well. Come on, come in, sit down. Here." He clicked his fingers and someone swooped in with the inevitable hot coffee. Thiede heaped sugar into my cup andpushed it into my hands. He shook his head. "My, what a state you're in!" He laughed. I couldn't speak. Leaning across the desk, he took my face in his hand. I spilled coffee over my lap. "Now, you're really going to have to pull yourself together, aren't you my dear. We've got to have a little chat and I can't speak to a gibbering idiot, can I now?" He put his fingers over my eyes and blasted me with white, searing strength that nearly knocked me backwards. When my vision had cleared, all feeling had come back to me. One of those feelings was rage. I remember swearing at him, which he listened to indulgently. When my invective had run

  out, he said, "Finished? Good. Now listen to me, Calanthe, you really are proving to be rather a thorn in my side."

  "Good!" I said. "I hope the pain kills you."

  He laughed. "Oh, no chance of that! Very sorry."

  "Why did you do it?" I asked. "Why? Just tell me that."

  "Do what?"

  I shook my head, unable to speak it.

  He sighed. "Oh Cal, it really is all a bit beyond you, I'm afraid. Just live out your little life and let hara like me deal with the important issues. Pell's like you, you know. He won't let go either."

  "Of the past?" I had visions of Pell flinging himself around, reliving his own death every day.

  Thiede shook his head. "Oh, no, not exactly. He is everything I'd hoped he'd be. He rules for me, Cal, and one day, his authority shall be over the entire world. He was a good choice. No, what he won't let go of is you. I'm afraid I'm finding it hard to see why, looking at you now, but I suppose you have been through a lot. Every creature in the world has an ideal partner, a soul mate. Only a few are lucky to find each other. You and Pellaz did, but then, that was unlucky because you had to be torn apart. It damaged you both more than I thought it would. You are nothing Cal, you don't matter, but Pell can't afford such scars."

  "So, what are you going to do? Kill me?"

  Thiede pulled a careful, disgusted face. "Oh, please! We are not barbarians. We are not Uigenna. No, there is a much more palatable solution. Of course, as you are now, you're wholly unsuitable for Pellaz to be associated with. It would cause a terrible scandal. He holds a position higher than any other har in Wraeththudom. But he's had to pay the price for that privilege. He's had to learn to live without privacy, to be as spotless a creature as he can. He's an example to our race, Cal. He has to be perfect. Do you understand this?"

  Oh, I understood it all right. "So, what's your solution then?" I asked bitterly, still thinking of death or banishment.

  "Well, in a perfect world, you would be taken to Immanion to undertake a course of ritual purification, so that, eventually, you would be fit to take your place at Pell's side, and could be brought forth for this end as yet another example to the people of how even the most base creature can aspire to perfection."

  I made an explosive sound, which Thiede raised his hand to silence. "But," he continued, "this is not a perfect world—yet. Pellaz already has a consort, which I, admittedly, did rather bully him into taking. They are bonded in blood, which is insoluble. I'm afraid the liaison has not been a happy one, but there you are! Even I can make mistakes. So you see, whatever vows you and Pell made before cannot stand up against a blood-bonding. You cannot be his consort; there is no way around that, unless Caeru the Tigrina was to die. Unfortunately for you, he is young and healthy and, although not entirely popular with the Hegemony (which I regret is probably Pell's doing), he is well-loved by the people. Although his relationship with Pell may be barren, Caeru has carved a niche for himself in Wraeththu's heart. He does his job very well. No-one outside of Phaonica would ever know they are not perfectly matched."

  I felt sick. "What are you trying to tell me?" I asked.

  "Merely this. You must take the course of Cleansing. There is a position in Immanion for you, Cal, in the royal household. I know I could use your talents, and what you

  and Pell decide to do between yourselves, behind closed doors, is nobody else's business. Naturally, you'll both have to be very careful. Can't afford to let anyone know what's going on. I'm sure you understand that. It will help if I can find you a consort of your own. Arahal can employ you in his staff. You are untrained, so he won't be able to offer you much at first. You'll have to work your way up, but I'm sure you won't find that difficult. Now, what do you say?"

  What I said was, "How dare you! You think I can be brought to heel, trained like a dog, to wag my tail and fawn at your Tigron's feet? You must be insane! You say that Pell still feels strongly about me? Well, let me tell you, Thiede, I
may be the lowest of the low in your eyes, but there is no way, even now, that I'd ever be bonded in blood to anyone else but Pell. I respect what we had before, even if he doesn't. No, I'm not a toy, Thiede. Not like he is!" At that moment, perhaps for the first time, I hated Pell.

  "Now just calm down!" Thiede said, still grinning. I wouldn't. My anger got hotter and hotter. In the end, he had me taken away and locked in my room. "Obviously, we shall have to talk later," he said, and there wasn't even a hint of irritation in his voice. It was almost as if he was pleased with my reaction. As if it was a relief. We did talk later. We talked many times. I was moved from place to place, probably (or so I thought) to prevent Pell finding out Thiede had me in confinement. Strange things happened to my sense of time. Sometimes I'd wake up from a winter night's sleep and find that it was high summer outside my window. I began to lose time. This always happened after one of my intimate chats with Thiede. I tried to rationalize, thinking of it as an hallucination. Thiede had created purposely to keep me disoriented. I was treated very well, given everything except my freedom. Gelaming are rarely physically cruel, of course. They have more subtle methods of torture. At the beginning, they even let me out to visit Terzian when he was dying. I was followed just to make sure I kept in line, but it was still a sweet touch. I suppose Thiede tried everything to getround me. I slept with a silver-haired har who never spoke, whose eyes were completely black, who loved me in a silent, distant way. I never even knew his name. Thiede would sometimes come to see me three times a week, and then I wouldn't hear from him for a couple of months.

 

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