Sethra Lavode (Viscount of Adrilankha)

by Steven Brust

  Sethra, appearing to understand something of what was passing through the Tiassa’s heart, made haste to continue her report to the Empress.

  “The Necromancer was of great assistance. As, I should add, was the Lord Morrolan.”

  “Morrolan? What did he do?”

  “He dispatched a god.”

  “A god?”

  “One named Tri’nagore, who had made a pact with the Pretender, which was interfering with Brimford.”

  “Brimford?”

  “And the Necromancer as well.”

  “How could he kill a god?”

  “I do not know the details, Majesty. I only know he succeeded.”

  Sethra nodded, reflecting. “Where is he?”

  “I believe he has returned to Castle Black, Majesty.”

  “I wish to see him.”

  “Instantly?”

  “At his convenience.”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  The Empress considered for a moment, then nodded to Sethra. “Splendid,” she said. “So, then, the enemy is routed on every front?”

  “On every front, Majesty.”

  “For my part,” said Khaavren. “I am inclined to believe that this was the Pretender’s last throw.”

  “Indeed,” said Zerika. “We appear to have weathered the storm.”

  “I am glad to hear it, Majesty.”

  “There is, however, one thing needed to make our victory complete.”

  “If Your Majesty will condescend to tell me what it is, I will do my utmost of see that it is done.”

  “I wish this pretender to be arrested.”

  “Ah, yes. I am in entire agreement with Your Majesty. And his cousin?”

  “Yes, she as well.”

  “Very well, Majesty. It will be done. But first, Majesty, I should like to inspect the guards.”

  “I believe the danger is past, Captain.”

  “No doubt Your Majesty is right, but I found six of my guards dead, and another eight wounded, just from the front doors to this room. Perhaps it was unavoidable, but Your Majesty must understand that I do not believe in the unavoidable. To me, it indicates that my defenses were inadequate, and it is only by luck that I have been spared disgrace. Your Majesty is welcome to as much courage as you please, but so long as I am Captain of the Imperial Guard, I must do as I think best in seeing to the safety of Empress and Orb.”

  “Well, but isn’t it the case that the longer you delay, the harder the arrest will be? Consider that, even now, they must be realizing that they have been defeated, and if they are not running now, they certainly will be soon.”

  “Your Majesty—”

  “Well?”

  “I answer for the arrest of Kâna and his cousin.”

  “You answer for it?”

  “Entirely.”

  The Empress looked doubtful, but she could not question Khaavren when he spoke in that fashion.

  Khaavren bowed, excused himself, and carried out his inspection quickly and efficiently, after which he had his horse saddled, and he set off to the west.

  By the time he reached the fortifications on Lower Kieron Road and was able to speak with Sethra the Younger, he was told that matters were well in hand.

  “By well in hand, does that mean the enemy is routed?”

  “Thoroughly, on all three fronts.”

  “Her Majesty suggested this might be the case half an hour ago.”

  “It was then, it is even more true now.”

  “So much the better. But—”

  “Well?”

  “Kâna must be aware of this fact.”

  “Undoubtedly, however slow his communication might be.” We see that, only in the course of this one battle, sorcerous communication had so spoiled Sethra the Younger that she was now contemptuous of any other form.

  “Prisoners?” said Khaavren. “What of them?”

  “Have you any?”

  “They are being brought in as they are secured. The enemy, as I have said, are in full retreat, so I had not deemed prisoners to be of the first importance.”

  “As to that, I cannot say. But there is one in particular I am looking for.”

  “The Pretender himself?”

  “Exactly. And his cousin as well.”

  “If they had been caught, I should know—all of my officers are looking for them.”

  “Very well, then they are still at large.”

  “And then, you are to look for them?”

  “I am to more than look for them, I am to find them. And, having found them, I am to arrest them in the name of the Empress.”

  “I understand, Captain. Would you care for a regiment to assist you? I have them to spare at this moment.”

  “Thank you, my dear General, but there is no need.”

  “How, you are going alone?”

  “I will move faster that way.”

  “Not even a company?”

  “I thank you, my dear, but I must be on my way.”

  “Then I have nothing to add except to wish you good luck, Captain.”

  “And the same to you, General.”

  Chapter the Ninety-Ninth

  How Morrolan Received a Gift

  From the Demon Goddess and

  Was Uncertain if It Were Intended to Be

  Practical or Decorative

  Morrolan was more than a little startled to discover, upon returning to Castle Black, that it was only a little past the hour of noon. He called for a guard to care for his horse, recommending especial care, as he had already become rather fond of the beast, and walked through the double-sized main door of his castle. He smiled a little as these doors opened on their own, just like the door at Dzur Mountain that he had seen.

  As he passed through these doors, he was still attempting to calculate an explanation for the odd behavior of the Furnace, which he could tell (being above the Enclouding) was far higher in the sky than it ought to be.

  He had only made a few steps inside when he was greeted by Lady Teldra, who bowed and welcomed him, hoping he was well.

  “Why, I am perfectly well, although I confess to a certain confusion.”

  “Confusion? Well, if there is a way that I can assist you by helping your understanding of some issue, you have but to ask, because I believe it is best to clear up confusions in the mind as quickly as possible.”

  “Well, we will see.”

  “What, then, causes this confusion?”

  “It is this: I have just been in Blackchapel.”

  “How, you have?”

  “Yes, I just this very instant returned. And there—”

  “Yes, my lord?”

  “Well, it was late afternoon. And this makes me wonder if I have somehow contrived to travel backward through time, which Sethra Lavode pretends is impossible, as we all must travel forward through time at an exact rate of sixty seconds each minute. Or if I have not traveled backward through time, if, somehow, a day has gone by without my being aware of it.”

  “Why, my lord, I am convinced that neither of these things has happened.”

  “Neither? But then, what has happened?”

  “My lord, today is the day upon which the Warlord reckons the battle should take place for Adrilankha. And, to judge from certain strange portents, I believe it is even happening.”

  “How, is it?”

  “I give you my word it is, my lord.”

  “But then, how can it already be late afternoon in Blackchapel, and just barely noon here?”

  “Well, my lord, you must remember that Blackchapel is east of us—considerably east of us. You cannot have forgotten how many leagues west we journeyed, in addition to no few leagues south.”

  “And so, if it is east—”

  “Then dawn occurs there before it occurs here.”

  “The Gods! By so much?”

  “Certainly.”

  “You cannot be mistaken?”

  “My lord, this fact is well known among the Orca—that is, those Orca who s
ail. When they sail eastward, the day starts and ends noticeably sooner; sailing west, when wind and currents permit, why, the day becomes longer after starting later.”

  Morrolan shook his head. “What accounts for such a thing?”

  “There are many theories, my lord, that account for it, but, so far as I know, none have been proven.”

  “Very well, then, it seems I must accept this. I shall have to get used to it, I suppose. Are there calculations that explain how a certain number of leagues of easting will result in day beginning so much earlier?”

  “Well, yes, my lord, but traveling north and south also has some effect.”

  “How, does it?”

  “Certainly.”

  “I cannot conceive of why.”

  “My lord, I beg you will believe me. This phenomenon has been speculated upon for many thousands of years.”

  “North and south you say?”

  “Yes, my lord. And I even repeat it. And I have heard, although I will not swear to its veracity, that among Orca who take long voyages to the south, such as trading expeditions to Landsight, when one travels far enough south, it is just as if one were traveling north.”

  Morrolan spent some moments attempting to work through this in his mind, but at last he said, “It is all too confusing, Teldra; I cannot make sense of it.”

  “I will find the tables and charts that explain it, my lord, and I will have them put in the library so that you may look at them at your leisure.”

  “That will be good. Perhaps I will, too, at some future time. But for now, I declare to you that sorcery is far less complicated.”

  “As to that, my lord, I cannot tell.”

  “Well, I insist upon it.”

  Teldra bowed.

  Morrolan frowned. “Lady Teldra,” he said.

  “My lord?”

  “How is it that, no matter what time of the day or night I arrive, you are here?”

  “Oh, as to that, well, I believe it is nothing more than chance.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “If not, it is some instinct of which I am unaware. But then, someone must see to it that you are greeted, and that you are able to break your fast, and that any messages that may have arrived are delivered to you.”

  “My dear Teldra, you are turning into something that is halfway between a wife and a servant! It is hardly your place to see to those matters.”

  “And yet, they must be seen too.”

  “That is true. I require a larger staff.”

  “As to that, I am in complete agreement with Your Lordship. Indeed, I have mentioned this very thing two or three times.”

  “Have you? I beg your pardon; I must not have been attending. Well, I am convinced, and I shall certainly see to it as soon as possible.”

  Teldra bowed.

  Morrolan took himself into the small dining room, where he was given a breakfast of sausage, klava, redberries in heavy cream, melon, and pastry stuffed with beef and mushrooms. Toward the end of this repast he was informed of a messenger, whom he directed to be sent in at once. It proved to be an errand runner from the Warlord, who informed him in tolerably laconic terms that the enemy had been defeated, and that, moreover, Her Majesty wished to see him whenever it was convenient.

  “Well then,” observed Morrolan after the messenger had departed, “The phrase ‘whenever convenient,’ which I believe I can interpret literally, is certainly gratifying, as I am not yet ready. For one thing, I must certainly be dressed properly to visit Her Majesty.”

  Morrolan’s first use of this unexpected gift of time, however, was to drink another large glass of klava. He was therefore indulging himself in this when he was informed that another wished to see him, this being none other than his high priestess, Arra.

  When she entered, Morrolan rose and bowed, saying, “My dear, come and share klava with me.”

  “I should like nothing better, my lord.”

  When Arra was seated and, having mixed the klava to her own specifications, including not only heavy cream and honey, but a drop of the extract of the vanilla bean, was sipping, Morrolan said, “I think you will be pleased to know that matters with the barbarians have been seen to.”

  Arra frowned. “I do not believe I understand what Your Lordship does me the honor to tell me. May I beg you to be more precise?”

  “I have, last night and this morning, visited three of the hamlets where live those who raided Blackchapel.”

  “How, alone?”

  “No, I had Blackwand with me,” he said, touching the hilt of his weapon.

  “I see. Well, and what was the result of this visit?”

  “They will not be conducting any raids for some time, I believe, on Blackchapel or anywhere else.”

  “How, and the god who aids them?”

  “He will no longer manifest in our world.”

  He said this quite calmly, while sipping his klava; Arra stared at him in silent astonishment. She wished to ask him what he meant or to beg him to explain, but, in fact, his words had been too clear for any explanation to be required.

  Presently she said, “Well, perhaps I ought not to be astonished after all.”

  “Oh,” said Morrolan, “not that I wish to congratulate myself overmuch, but, I believe a certain degree of astonishment is appropriate.”

  “And yet, I ought to have expected it—or, at any rate, something not too unlike it.”

  “But, how could you have known?”

  “My dream.”

  “Ah, ah! You had a dream! And yet, did you not say that you have been unable to do a Seeing these last months?”

  “Certainly many weeks.”

  “You must remember, Arra, that we are now in the Empire, where a month is only seventeen days.”

  “Ah, you are right; I had forgotten this circumstance. Well, months then. And yes, it is true; something has interfered with my ability to do a Seeing; but, nevertheless, I had a dream that felt very like.”

  “Then perhaps it was Tri’nagore who was interfering with this most exceptional and valuable ability. And, with him now gone—”

  “Why, my lord, I believe you may be right! He is truly gone?”

  “He is,” said Morrolan, not without a certain air of complacency.

  “It is astonishing.”

  “Well, but what was this dream?”

  “Do you recall the tower you had constructed for the worship of the Demon Goddess?”

  “Remember? You perceive, Arra, it is not something I am likely to forget.”

  “So much the better. Well, in my dream, I was standing in that tower, and I stepped through the window, and I found myself in the presence of the goddess herself, in a place all of white, with pillars and high arches. I bowed to her, and she smiled into my face, and then I was awake.”

  “And did it feel to you that it was a Seeing?”

  “It did indeed.”

  “Well, that is a most remarkable dream, only—”

  “Yes?”

  “If you remember, I had the tower built with no windows at all, so that nothing might interfere with my ability to concentrate upon communing with the Demon Goddess.”

  “That is true. Only—”

  “Yes?”

  “I should like to look.”

  “You wish to climb into the tower?”

  “Yes, I should like it very much. You perceive, the dream was most vivid.”

  “My dear Arra, you know very well that you may enter the tower whenever you desire; you need no permission.”

  “I am not insensitive to your kindness in this regard, my lord, only—”

  “Yes?”

  “Would you wish to accompany me?”

  “How, you would like me to go there as well?”

  “If you can spare the time, my lord, I should like it very much.”

  “Very well, my dear. Let me but finish the last swallow of this estimable klava, and do you finish yours, and I am with you.”

  “You are very k
ind, my lord.”

  “Come, then. You see that I have finished.”

  “As have I.”

  “Then let us to the tower. Your arm?”

  “Here it is.”

  It was a considerable walk to reach the tower: a walk made more considerable by several required detours, some caused by ongoing construction, one by work to repair the small hole Morrolan had made when his sword had emitted a kind of spell on its own. Eventually, however, they reached the place where a crude metal spiral staircase wound up to a wooden trapdoor. Morrolan went first, pushing open the trap-door and his head through the hole, and then stopping, crying out, “The Gods!,” his voice echoing oddly down from the tower.

  “What is it?” said Arra.

  “Well,” called down Morrolan, “I should instead say, the Goddess.”

  “But what is it?”

  “You must see.”

  “My lord, I cannot; you perceive that you have not moved, and your—and you are occupying the only entrance.”

  “I beg your pardon, Arra. I shall move directly. There, here is my hand. Take it and come up.”

  “Thank you, my lord, but—the Gods!”

  “Rather, the Goddess.”

  “Yes, as you have said.”

  “You dream was, indeed, a true Seeing, Arra. There is a window in my tower.”

  “A window? I beg your pardon, my lord, but there are many.”

  “How, many? I see only one, although, indeed, what it looks upon is most remarkable.”

  “One? You see only one window? And yet, I clearly perceive several, all around the tower. There are … I cannot count them. They appear to move about. It is strange. Twenty? No, not so many.”

  “Come, sit down, Arra. I give you my word, there is only one; I am now standing before it. And a fine, prodigious window it is, although looking through it I am growing delirious; the view keeps changing, and is, at no point, showing what ought to be below us—that is, the dawn in Southmoor, with a small stream and a bridge, and part of the walls of Castle Black.”

  Arra shook her head. “I cannot understand it, my lord, but I give you my word that, for my part, I am seeing many windows, each of them showing something different. This one seems to be looking out at a place that is under water—under green water, for all love—complete with strange fish, and the remains of a ship, or part of a ship, lying wrecked upon the bottom. This one is showing what appears to be a sort of roadway, with hundreds of strange beasts moving upon it at great speed. This one, why, this one appears to be the the same place that, in my dream, I saw as the Halls of the Demon Goddess: pure white hallways with rows of pillars, although there is what seems to be a kind of fog floating upon the ground, which fog was entirely absent in my dream.”