The Serpent Tower

by William King

  Green garbed soldiers were everywhere. An honour guard waited for them, ten times in number the size of the force Sardec had brought. As Lady Asea entered they presented their arms in salute with a precision that the Royal Guards themselves might have envied. Lord Ilmarec was sparing no effort to impress on them the power and efficiency of his retainers. Sardec had to admit that it was working.

  As the last of his troops entered, the gates of the Tower closed behind them, sliding smoothly from within the walls, so that the entrance vanished as if it had never been. Well, thought Sardec, let us hope Lord Ilmarec is feeling friendly today.

  If not, they were well and truly trapped.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Rik heard the doors close behind him. He felt trapped. His old thievish instincts made him deeply uneasy. No way out, he told himself.

  They were outnumbered and outgunned. If Lord Ilmarec decided that now was a good time to do away with a rival mage there was nothing they could do about it except die heroically, and he had never been particularly enamoured of that idea.

  Why had the Lady Asea come here, he wondered? Why had she put them in the power of some mad Elder Race-obsessed sorcerer? Had she a death wish?

  Her calm beautiful face told him that if she was in the slightest intimidated, she was not letting it show. In fact her features lit up with a lovely smile, quite the warmest he had ever seen her give.

  “Lord Ilmarec,” she said. “How pleasant it is to see you once again.”

  A tall, lean Terrarch, silver-haired and smoothly beautiful walked towards them. His tread was feline, his movements perfectly controlled. Unlike most male Terrarchs he was bearded, a small goatee descended from his chin, as silver as his hair and his eyebrows. Two waves of hair curled up over his forehead, oddly horn-like, in a way that made Rik think of the depiction of demons. Lord Ilmarec bowed. “The pleasure is mine, Lady Asea.”

  The newcomer’s smile was chilly, his teeth small and sharp looking. His clothes were elaborate to the point of foppishness and in a style that Rik had only seen previously on the ancient statues in the squares of Sorrow. Obviously this was not a Terrarch overly concerned with the latest fashions.

  On his chest was a large amulet of silver and within it a green stone glowed. Rik had seen that colour before, in the woods near the Serpent Man ruins and on the tip of the Tower at night. The sight of it filled him with foreboding.

  Behind Ilmarec was a figure entirely shrouded in robes. Cowls hid its head, voluminous sleeves covered its hands, the skirts of its robes went all the way to the ground so that not even its feet were visible. Its robes constantly rippled and bulged in odd places as if a nest of serpents fought within them. The thing did not seem to walk so much as glide. An odd, fusty leathery smell came from its direction when the wind was right. There was an air of terrible menace about the creature, the feeling that they were in the presence of some old supernatural evil.

  Asea and Ilmarec went into the long exchange of formalities obligatory when two Terrarchs of their age and rank met. Rik paid careful attention to Ilmarec. Like Asea he wore power like a cloak. Even if Rik had not known he was a sorcerer he would have guessed it.

  At last, when the bowing and speech-making was done, Ilmarec led them through the entrance of his Tower. Rik noticed there was another of those strange serpents carved over the archway. Its jewelled eyes glittered in a manner that reminded him of the gem on Ilmarec’s medallion. Every man who went before him shivered as he passed into the darkness, as if they felt the touch of some dark sorcery.

  Rik felt nothing as he passed under the thing’s gaze but decided to pretend that he did, just in case anybody was watching. Under the circumstances, it seemed best not to stand out from the crowd.

  The first things Sardec noticed when he stepped inside the Tower were the lights. They were of green crystal, set in the ceiling, and gave a soft glow that illuminated the place eerily. They seemed intended for creatures whose eyesight operated in a somewhat different fashion from his own.

  The next thing he noticed was that the walls were oddly curved. Like the gates they resembled an oval cut off at the base. They ran through the walls of the Tower like veins. There was no brickwork, and it all contributed to the impression that the structure had somehow been moulded in one piece. The floor beneath his feet was not slippery although it was as smooth and glassy-looking as the rest of the material. He reached out and touched one wall with his fleshly hand. It was cool and smooth to the touch. How was this place kept warm in the winter?

  They entered a large chamber. On one side was a throne. It rose from the floor seamlessly as if it too were a moulded component. Other benches, low and cool and comfortable, were arranged around the walls of a sunken amphitheatre in front of it. Ilmarec indicated by a gesture that Sardec and Asea should sit. The human soldiers could stand behind them. The sorcerer took his place on the throne, and looked down on them, a king studying petitioning subjects. The heavily robed figure took up a position just behind him. Servants entered bearing trays of refreshments for the Terrarchs. Once they were served, Ilmarec turned to affairs of state. They spoke in the old High Tongue so that none of the humans present could understand.

  “It does my heart good to see you once more, Asea, but I suspect that this is more than a personal visit.”

  “Lord Azaar had sent me to inquire about Queen Kathea. He believes she is being held within the Tower.” It was a shockingly blunt statement. Asea obviously felt no need to observe the niceties of diplomatic language. Under the circumstances, Sardec could not blame her. Time was of vital importance in the prosecution of this war. If Ilmarec was surprised, he gave no sign.

  “My niece is here for her own protection, Asea. There are those who would kill her if they could. I would not have her join her poor father so swiftly.”

  “It seems to me that your niece should be allowed to make her own decision in the matter.”

  “I assure you she is here of her own free will.”

  “I had heard some of her troops died trying to free her.”

  “A misunderstanding. There are always hotheads in any army. Once the situation was properly explained to them, they saw the light.”

  There were the undertones of an unpleasant joke in the way Ilmarec stressed the word light. Sardec thought of the green light at once, as, no doubt, he was intended to.

  “I am here to make sure Kathea is with you of her own accord, that her decision was shall we say…unforced?”

  Ilmarec smiled coldly. “As you and my old friend Azaar would undoubtedly allow her to make her decisions -- as long as they suited your purposes.”

  Asea was not the only one here capable of speaking bluntly.

  “We would see her on her rightful throne.”

  “As you saw Arielle on hers?” There was a note of mockery in Ilmarec’s voice.

  Asea smiled. “Your manners have altered for the worse since last I saw you.”

  “Pray forgive me, Lady. I did not mean to offend you but you see, you have offended me, by implying that my motives are somehow less pure than your own undoubtedly are. Believe me, I intend to see that my niece is safe and I have the power to ensure it is so.”

  “Perhaps you overestimate the strength of your Tower.”

  “That is virtually impossible.”

  “You are confident that you can face down all the armies of the East without allies?”

  “To be frank, should the need arise, yes.”

  “Then you have grown mighty indeed, my Lord.”

  “I have grown mighty, Asea. More powerful than you could ever dream.”

  “Really,” said Asea. Her smile had a woman’s effortless mockery of male vanity in it. If this affected Ilmarec he gave no sign.

  “Join me, Asea. You too, Lieutenant. I have something to show you. I believe you will find it of interest.”

  “I would speak with Kathea,” said Asea.

  “You will have the opportunity to do so.”

  Ilmare
c rose from the throne and flanked by his robed shadow headed for the exit. He paused to indicate that the two of them should follow. Sardec was not sure of the wisdom of doing so. It would mean leaving the Foragers behind. They might not be able to provide much protection within the Tower but they were the only troops he had on hand, and he was loathe to abandon them. He glanced at Asea. She nodded almost imperceptibly and rose to follow Ilmarec.

  There was nothing else for Sardec to do but accompany her.

  “I don’t like this at all, Halfbreed,” said the Barbarian. Rik was forced to agree. This was an uncanny place. The lighting and the strange Elder World architecture reminded him of the lost city of Uran Ultar.

  “Really?” said Weasel in a low murmur. “What is there to dislike — Elder World sorcery, all the gates locked and us surrounded by a small army? I don’t see what you are whining about.”

  “What about that thing at the gates?” said the Barbarian. “It fairly made my flesh crawl. It felt as if some demon was peering straight into my soul.”

  Rik was about to ask him what he was talking about when Weasel said: “Aye, that was a shocker and no mistake.”

  Weasel was not a man to ever admit to being frightened, so it must have been a powerful thing indeed. Rik heard others muttering about it, and saw them making Elder signs in the air with their fingers. He seemed to be the only man in the squad who had missed out on the experience.

  “And what was that robed thing hovering beside Ilmarec?”

  “Some ancient evil brought to life by dark sorcery, no doubt,” said Rik.

  “It didn’t half smell,” said the Barbarian.

  “It would probably say the same about you,” said Weasel.

  “You think old Ilmarec is going to lock up the Lieutenant and the Lady?” The Barbarian asked.

  “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?” said Weasel.

  “We’d better hope not,” said Rik. “If he imprisons them, think what he might do to us. We are not Terrarchs. He likes to toss insubordinate humans off the walls or so I hear. That means you two could be in for a long drop.”

  “You’ll be safe then, Halfbreed,” said Weasel. “There’s nothing much human about you.”

  The ramp wound a long way up through the centre of the Tower, spiralling for so long that Sardec began to feel dizzy. Just when he had started to wonder whether it would ever end, they emerged onto a landing. They were not quite on the roof but they were close. Only a short spike of jade-like substance rose above them. Sardec could not help but notice that a huge, greenly glowing gem was mounted atop the spike.

  “The Fang of the Serpent,” said Ilmarec, gesturing to the jewel.

  “Is this the source of your new-found power?” asked Asea.

  “As you know I have always maintained we Terrarchs were too certain of our own superior wisdom. The Sathur possessed the secret of magic that makes ours look like child’s play.”

  “You are about to demonstrate this, I suppose.”

  “I have been busy while you played at politics, Asea. I have been about the business of learning our craft, a thing that you seem to have sorely neglected of late.”

  A dangerous note had entered Ilmarec’s voice and a wild light was in his eye. Sardec weighed the chances of pushing the wizard from the roof of the Tower. He was fairly certain he could manage it before Ilmarec could react. The only question then was what would the robed figure do, and all the retainers in the Tower? He might be able to assassinate the Tower’s master but he was sure that he would join him in death minutes later, at most.

  As if it sensed his thoughts the robed figure moved closer, swirling between him and the sorcerer. As the wind whipped its robes around its ankles, he noticed it had no feet. No limbs touched the ground. Whatever was within those bundles of cloth, it was floating, not walking. He shivered and peered into its cowl. He thought he caught sight of faint glowing lights there, but he could be wrong. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Ilmarec’s guardian was undoubtedly the product of dark and evil sorcery.

  “You may be right,” said Asea. She sounded unusually tired and forthright. “Why don’t you just show us what you brought us here to see?”

  Ilmarec nodded slightly. “You see that building there, amid the shattered ruins?”

  Asea nodded.

  “Watch!”

  He closed his eyes and raised his hands in the air and chanted something in a language part hisses and part guttural growling. The gem above them glowed softly and then gave forth a pulse of light. Sardec felt a brief sensation of almost intolerable heat. The light touched the huge rock, and the stone flew apart. A few moments later, there came a sound like a thunderclap.

  Sardec was awestruck. Glowing chips of broken stone lay everywhere. A cloud of what might have been steam rose above it. He had never seen a weapon of such power. Dragon breath would merely have heated a building that size, and a cannonball knocked chips from it. This was something else.

  It was as if God had struck the rock with his thunderbolt. Such a weapon could destroy a siege engine long before it got within range of the Tower. It could blast a dragon from the sky. Perhaps it could single out a sorcerer in the midst of an army. An enemy wizard might never get to finish his rituals before being sent screaming straight to hell. Ilmarec was indeed secure in his Tower.

  Asea’s face was a mask of calm control. “That is the weapon the Sathur used against our fleet at Ssaharoc. You have learned their secrets.”

  “Indeed.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “Centuries of study, of course.” Even Sardec heard the lie in his words. Perhaps Ilmarec intended it. Or perhaps power had gone to his head and clouded his judgement.

  “You finally found a way into the sealed areas of the Tower.”

  “Yes, Asea, I did. It was not easy but I did it.”

  “There are those who would pay you a fortune for the secret of such a thing,” said Sardec.

  “I have a fortune. I don’t need another.”

  “What do you want then?” Asea asked.

  “To be left in peace by both sides in your putrid little squabble. For my nation to be spared the agony of having more centuries of war fought over it.”

  “If I had my way you would have those things,” said Asea.

  “Oddly enough, your friend Lord Jaderac said the same thing.”

  “Jaderac wants to see the old rule restored. He wants all humans to be thralls again. The world has changed. He is fighting against history.”

  “He thinks he is fighting against you, Asea. And Azaar. And those who support the two of you.” He smiled and almost as an afterthought added; “And Queen Arielle, of course.”

  “We have talked about this before, you and I. We could not keep the humans enslaved forever. They have learned too much. They are too many. They are too strong.”

  “Jaderac and his kind are strong as well.”

  “Not strong enough.”

  “Perhaps you are right. Perhaps not. I fear Lord Jaderac has been dabbling in forbidden arts. I fear many easterners have, in preparation for the struggle with our former slaves.”

  “What do you mean?” Asea asked.

  “I have talked with Lord Jaderac. He sought to impress me with the depths of his knowledge, the extent of his power. It was a veiled threat of course, and he did impress me, although not in the way I think he wanted to.”

  “He threatened you.”

  “Old secrets have been rediscovered in the East, Asea. Things that had best been left well alone. Sorcery of the darkest sort, the kind we all foreswore when we left Al’Terra. When the next war comes it will be unleashed against you, and against me, of course, if I do not do what Jaderac, and the Queen-Empress wants. The puppy has become quite the wolf, it seems.”

  “Ally with us,” said Asea. “You need have nothing to fear from him then.”

  “I have nothing to fear from him now.”

  “Even with Elder World weapons you could be starved
out from this tower. An army need only wait beyond reach of the green light and poison your fields by night.”

  “I can see you have given some thought to this matter, Asea, but you are wrong. I have power that puts me beyond the reach of siege. You can feel it, can you not? You can feel it in the air around us.”

  “I can sense the gathering energies of Elder World sorcery.”

  “Have you sensed power so great since you set foot on this pitiful sphere of mud?”

  Asea looked at him squarely. “No.”

  “I have acquired power enough to change the world,” said Ilmarec. “And soon I will demonstrate that.”

  “You will not treat with us then?”

  “I have no need to Asea. I will show the world that Kharadrea can stand apart. Your armies will leave our soil.”

  “Lord Azaar may disagree.”

  “In a few days Lord Azaar will be beyond disagreeing. If he does not leave my country.”

  “It is not your country,” said Asea. “It belongs to Queen Kathea.”

  “Once we are married, I will be co-ruler.”

  “Married?” said Sardec.

  “Yes, Lieutenant, married.”

  “Kathea would never marry you of her free will,” said Asea.

  “There you are wrong. She is quite glad to. She believes in the power I possess. It’s not the most romantic basis for matrimony I will grant you, but then this is a marriage of convenience on both sides.”

  “I would have words with Queen Kathea about this,” said Asea.

  “By all means,” said Ilmarec. “Let us go and speak with my future bride.”

  Kathea was as lovely a Terrarch as Sardec had ever seen. She was tall, if not quite so tall as Asea; her hair was honey gold, her eyes cornflower blue. Her blue robes matched her eyes. Their gold trim matched her hair.