by Steven Brust
“Yes, Yngra. And so, Yngra transacted certain business with this visitor, at the end of which, Yngra had his purse.”
“Exactly.”
“And then?”
“Well, the unfortunate gentleman, after the business with my brother, walked a mile further toward Deathgate, and then fell over stone dead.”
“But, of what did he die?”
“As to that, I cannot say. Certainly no violence was done to him. But then, he was a very old man.”
“So there is nothing remarkable in an old man dropping dead walking through the mountains.”
“That is true.”
“Well, but what then?”
“You must understand, my dear Piro, that Yngra had a sensitive and imaginative nature, and it made him sad that this person, with whom he had just transacted business and shared a meal—”
“A meal?”
“Yngra had the custom of sharing food with anyone he happened to rob, so at least the fellow would have a full belly to speed him on his way.”
“A very complaisant robber. Being in the trade myself, I cannot but admire it.”
“That is kind of you to say.”
“So then, you say that this Athyra dropped dead after his business and his meal with your ancestor, Yngra.”
“Yes, and Yngra felt badly about it. At first, he feared he had inadvertently poisoned his guest—which, as you know, is bad luck.”
“There is little worse.”
“But, as he himself felt no ill effects, and as he had eaten the same thing as his guest, he came to the conclusion that it was merely an unfortunate event.”
“That seems likely. And then?”
“He nevertheless felt badly about the whole thing.”
“As you say, he had a sensitive and imaginative nature.”
“Exactly. And so he resolved to bring the poor fellow to Deathgate.”
“How, just because he had spoken with him?”
“And shared a meal, yes, exactly.”
“That was a kindly resolution.”
“I have always thought so.”
“Well, what next?”
“He did just as he intended: he made a sort of sled, hitched it to his horse by a combination of leather straps and tree branches, and so brought the poor fellow to the Falls. There he lit some incense in his name by the icon of the Athyra, set him in the River, and watched his body go over.”
“For my part,” said Piro, “I consider it a fine gesture.”
“Was it not? And he was rewarded.”
“How, was he?”
“That, at least, is the family tradition.”
“But, what was the reward?”
“This amulet. Yngra claimed that, the next day, he found it hanging on his door handle.”
“The Trey! Did he?”
“Well, at any rate, we now have it.”
“Well, but does it do anything?”
“Do anything? Nearly!”
“What does it do?”
“Grassfog never told you?”
“Told me? Why, he never so much as mentioned it until he was at the point of death.”
“Then, if you’d like, I will tell you what it does.”
“I should like to hear; you can imagine that, after a story such as you have just told, I am more than a little curious.”
“Well, when you looked at the amulet, did you observe that there are several symbols engraved on it?”
“Yes, I saw that.”
“And what did you make of them?”
“Well, while I do not claim to be a sorcerer, I recognized the ancient symbols of the Serioli that are so often used in the arcane arts.”
“But do you know what they mean?”
“Madam, you must perceive that if I knew what they meant, why, I should know what they do.”
“That is true,” admitted Tsira. “Well then,” she said, taking the item out and showing it to Piro, “there are several different charms placed upon it, and, moreover, they combine in ways that are quite remarkable. That is very odd.”
“What is?”
“It is glowing. Have you ever seen it do that before?”
“Never.”
“Nor have I.”
“Well then, let us hear about it.”
“You want me to explain it?”
“I think so.”
“It can be used to disrupt the workings of any sorcerous field.”
“Ah! That is truly amazing!”
“Isn’t it?”
“Only—”
“Well?”
“What is a sorcerous field?”
“Oh, as to that, I have not the least idea in the world, I assure you. But it was explained to me by a wizard to whom I showed it that that is what it did.”
“Well, and do you know how to use it?”
“Not at all.”
“Come, let us return to your cottage.”
“Very well, Piro. But I still wonder what that glowing means.”
“There, you see, it has stopped.”
“That is true.”
“And I, good Tsira, still wonder what a sorcerous field is.”
“For that matter, so do I. Ah, we are back.”
“Ibronka knows something of sorcery; we could ask her.”
“Who is Ibronka?”
“She is the lovely Dzurlord who is snoring with her head on Röaana’s stomach, her leg on Kytraan’s face, and her hand on the jug.”
“Ah, yes, her. Do you imagine we can wake her?”
“It seems unlikely. Nevertheless, let me try. Ibronka, my love, can you tell me what a sorcerous field is?”
Ibronka moved her leg slightly, causing Kytraan to make various snuffling sounds; then she shifted her head, clasped the jug more tightly, and sighed softly.
“Ibronka?”
“My friend,” said Tsira, “I do not believe it is working.”
“I’m afraid you are right.”
Ibronka stopped snoring, opened her eyes, and said, “A sorcerous field refers to any area wherein the set effects of a sorcerous spell are continuous. Examples include teleport protections and alarm wards. The two advantages of a sorcerous field over a conventionally cast spell are that it may continue without monitoring for some length of time, and that additional energy may be put into the spell, increasing its effectiveness beyond what the sorcerer is normally capable of controlling. The usual way of determining if a sorcerous field is or has recently been present is the Norbrook Threepass Test.” After completing this discourse, Ibronka immediately closed her eyes and began snoring again.
Piro blinked.
“I wonder,” said Tsira, “if she would know how to use it.”
“Perhaps,” said Piro. “We can ask her.”
“I am curious about something else.”
“Curiosity is often a good thing.”
“Perhaps it is this time, too.”
“Well, let us see. What are you curious about?”
“Two things: first, why it began glowing.”
“Yes, that is a good question. Next?”
“Why it stopped.”
“The Horse! That is another good question. Could it have something to do with where we were?”
“Perhaps. Let us walk back westward.”
“Very well.”
“Ah, there, you see, my lord? It is glowing again.”
“And as we continue in this direction, the glow is brighter.”
“Might there be a sorcerous field nearby?”
“I cannot imagine how there could be.”
“Well, but just in case, I should rather have my friends with me before going any further.”
“Well, but can you wake them?”
“I do not know, but I am determined to try.”
“Very well, let us do so then.”
“I agree.”
In fact, after some twenty or thirty minutes, they managed to get everyone in the band mounted on horseback with the excepti
on of Lar and Ritt, who were, instead of riding, draped over the backs of their horses. There was, to be sure, a certain amount of discontent expressed at Piro’s insistence, but, either because of his will, or because of their habit of obedience, they eventually managed to make their way, with the two exceptions that we have already noted.
Piro and Tsira rode in front, Tsira holding the amulet. Presently she said, “There, it is glowing again.”
“Then,” said Piro, “let us continue in this direction.”
“What is it?” asked Ibronka from beneath drooping eyelids.
Piro explained what they knew, what they guessed, and what they wondered about, while Ibronka did her best to overcome the effects of her debauch enough to listen and try to understand what she was being told, and even think about it.
After a few hours of riding, however, our friends recovered their senses, so that by the time Tsira observed, “It is glowing even more brightly,” they were all sitting upright, all acquainted with the situation, and many of them were even able to generate some mild interest in the proceedings.
“This area looks somewhat familiar,” said Piro.
“I hope so,” said Ibronka, looking around. “We fought something of a battle here.”
“Here?”
“Here first, and then up there.”
“Why, yes. I had not recognized it. Then, up ahead, there is the cave from which Zerika emerged.”
“Exactly.”
“I know that cave,” said Tsira. “It isn’t much of a cave, only fifteen feet deep. I have sheltered there occasionally during sudden rainstorms.”
“Yes, that is the one.”
“That is where the Empress emerged with the Orb?”
“The very place.”
“How remarkable,” said Tsira. “And to think it is so near my home!”
“The amulet is growing even more brightly,” observed Piro.
“So it is.”
“Ibronka, my love, do you think you have any idea how to make this object perform its function?”
She rode up next to Tsira and took the charm. She studied it carefully for a moment and then handed it back. “I do not believe so,” she said. “It would take a more knowledgeable sorcerer than I.”
“That is too bad,” said Piro.
Tsira shrugged. “I wish to look at this cave.”
“Very well,” said Piro. “Let us dismount, hobble the horses, and investigate.”
Chapter the Ninety-First
How Sethra Lavode Discovered
Something of Kâna’s Secret Plans
Let us now return our attention to the Battle of Adrilankha as it developed. Sethra Lavode, having seen that the battle on Lower Kieron Road was, at the moment, stable, turned to her adepts and said, “What report from Northgate Road?”
“Nothing, General. No sign of enemy activity.”
“Very well. Find out what is going on at the bridges.”
“The enemy is not yet there.”
“The harbor?”
The adepts were silent for a moment; then one of them said, “The enemy has landed in force, and are just now organizing to move inland.”
Sethra nodded. It occurred to her that, should the enemy’s plan involve something other than moving in past South Adrilankha in an attempt to cross the bridges, it could be embarrassing for her. But, to the left, there was nothing to be done about it at this stage, and moreover, she was convinced that this was, indeed, the enemy’s plan.
Addressing her adepts again, she said, “Very well. Inform Berigner to expect the enemy within the half hour.”
“Yes, General.” The adept then frowned and said, “That is odd.”
“What is it?” said Sethra.
“I cannot reach Neffra.”
“Well, but who is Neffra?”
“The adept on Berigner’s staff with whom I have been communicating.”
“Then reach another.”
“Yes, General.”
“Well?”
“I can reach no one.”
“Well,” said Sethra Lavode. “What can cause such a thing? Can you reach Sethra the Younger?”
“No, General.”
“Well,” said the Enchantress.
She fell silent, considering matters, then gave a rapid series of messages to messengers, and orders to subordinates, concluding with the single word “Horse!”
This remark, the reader should understand, was the command for an orderly to bring her a horse, rather than the beginning of some remarks to be addressed to the animal. Fortunately, the orderly understood, and her horse was brought to her. She mounted it directly, letting command in this area devolve on Fentor, who was acting for Morrolan, and took herself to the headquarters on the Old West Road.
“Warlord!” said Sethra the Younger. “I had not expected you.”
“Well, am I any the less welcome for that?”
“Oh, not the least in the world, I assure you. I assume you wish to know the progress of the battle?”
“Yes, you have understood exactly. You perceive, I should have used one of the adepts to ask, only they appear unable to communicate.”
“So I had just noticed,” said her apprentice. “And, alas, it seems my ability to use sorcery is impaired. Indeed, more than impaired, I should say the ability has deserted me entirely.”
“I give you my word, madam,” said Sethra, “that you are not alone in this. On the contrary, it seems to be the case with every sorcerer with whom I have spoken. And, if that were not sufficient evidence, well, I find that I, myself, am unable to perform in the simplest of spells.”
“That is sufficient, I believe, to prove a point, if proof is required.”
“I think so.”
“Well, but how can this be?”
“As to that, I have not the least idea. I have sent to the Manor to ask Her Majesty, but have not yet received word.”
“So then, shall I make my report?”
“I should be very grateful if you would; and laconically, I beg.”
“There is little enough to tell, madam. They press, we hold them. Indeed, we were driving them back in fine style, and I was about to do myself the honor of ordering a countercharge that could not have failed to utterly break them, when suddenly we found we were without sorcery, so that, not only was the notion of making such a charge now questionable, but, moreover, I was cut off from the officers on the line, so that I was unable to give the command.”
“Ah, and have you, yourself, not been to the front line?”
Her apprentice scowled. “I have tried, three times, and on each occasion, I have been distracted by some annoying issue having to do with command—a sudden weakness over here, or change in the nature of the attacking troops over there. I give you my word, it is tolerably vexing.”
“I have made this same observation on more than one occasion,” said Sethra.
At this point, the Sorceress in Green approached them. She had been at the front, and been required to walk back for two reasons: the first being that, as she had anticipated teleporting, she had neglected to provide herself with a horse; in the second place, she was no horseman, and so would have been unable to ride in any event.
When she reached Morrolan and Sethra, she bowed to them both and said, “There is something amiss with the Orb.”
“So we have observed,” said Sethra the Younger.
“It is insupportable,” said the Sorceress.
“Well,” said the Warlord, “it makes it harder for us, that is all. While we do not have our sorcery, nor do we have the remarkable abilities of the Necromancer, we still have our soldiery.”
“And the warlock, Brimford?” asked the Sethra the Younger.
“Alas he is, as yet, unable to produce any results. Although he insists he can still communicate with his familiars, and that they are in position should he suddenly be able to perform his magic.”
“Well,” said Sethra the Younger, shrugging.
The Enchantress
frowned and said, “It is vexing, but I still believe that, with the Favor, the day might still be ours, especially if Lord Berigner is able to hold the bridges from South Adrilankha. To that end, I have dispatched the forces from Northgate Road to assist him.”
The Sorceress shrugged. “Madam, it is not merely a question of winning or losing this battle, or even the Empire.”
“How, it is not?”
“Well, you perceive, I consider these matters important—”
“I hope that you do!”
“—but it is intolerable to consider that this, this, person could have become so low as to open our world to the Jenoine.”
Sethra stared at her. “What do you tell me?”
The Sorceress stared back. “Why, I tell you that our world has been opened to the Jenoine.”
For one of very few times recorded by history, Sethra Lavode was speechless. Eventually, however, she managed to say, “Are you certain?”
“How, could you be unaware of what has happened?”
“Nearly,” said Sethra.
“I am astonished.”
“You are astonished?”
“Well—”
“Did you, in fact, mention the word ‘Jenoine’?”
“Certainly I did. Twice. And now I insist upon it.”
“Kâna has opened our world to the Jenoine?”
“Well, one Jenoine, in any case.”
“How is this possible?”
“Why, my dear Sethra, you know as well as anyone that a skilled necromancer might create such an opening.”
“Well, but then, how is it that I have not been aware of it? You perceive, Dzur Mountain is full of alarms looking for just such an occurrence.”
“But my love, you are not at Dzur Mountain.”
“That is true,” said Sethra, struck by the extreme justice of this observation. “But how is it that you became aware of it?”
“Why, I hardly know. I simply realize—ah!”
“Well?”
The Sorceress pulled from within her blouse a small purple stone, hanging from a thin silver chain about her neck. “This,” she said.
“What of it?”
“Why, my dear, you gave it to me. It is linked to the wards in Dzur Mountain. You desired me to have it, if you remember, in case Dzur Mountain were attacked, and you were sufficiently involved with the defense so as to prevent you from letting me know.”
“I remember now.”
“Well, it must be this that informed me, and, as it makes use of Elder Sorcery, which does not require intervention of the Orb, why, the disruption of the Orb could have no effect on it.”