by Steven Brust
As to the Warlock, upon being informed that it was the Empress who wished to speak with him, he gave her a bow and assured her that he was entirely at her service.
“That is well, my good Brimford. There are matters which I wish to discuss with you. Come, let us find a place where we can speak with one another without being disturbed.”
Brimford appeared to experience a certain agitation at this suggestion, but made no argument; instead, after requiring the dog, Awtlá, and the cat, Sireng, to wait for him, he followed the Empress down into the temple, still crowded though it was, through the altar room, out through one of the wing doors, and so into the small alcove where a few days before Piro and his friends had carried on their philosophical discourse. This room happened to have a door, which the Empress shut, and then, turning to Brimford, she said, “The Gods! Laszló! It is you!”
The Warlock at once fell to his knees and, taking the Empress’s hand, pressed his lips to it. “Zivra!” he said. “How came you here? And Empress? You, Empress? What does it mean? When I saw you, I thought surely I would die!”
Zerika smiled. “Then, you are not sorry to see me?”
“Sorry! Sorry! If live to be ten thousand, I will never be less sorry of anything. But why did you have that Dragonlord communicate with me, instead of doing so yourself?”
“It is useless to let everyone know that we are acquainted. And, moreover, it was my wish to give you an agreeable surprise. And did I do so?”
“I am enchanted! But what of you?”
“Oh, I?”
“Yes, are you glad to see me?”
“How can you ask? I am wounded!”
“I will cure your wound, if you but grant me leave!”
“Cure me? How? You alarm me, sir!”
“Ah, now you play the coquette? Oh, my sweet Zivra, if you knew what you do to me! Do you recall our last conversation?”
“Oh, can I ever forget it? In your little garret in South Adrilankha.”
“Yes, yes. And you said you were going away, and didn’t know if you would ever return.”
“I was frightened that day. I had just said farewell to my friends, and I said farewell to you last of all. I feared it would be for-ever.”
“It was a cruel day!”
“It was not easy for me, Laszló.”
“Oh, you must not call me that. I renounced my name, and now you have given me a new one.”
“Well, Brimford, then.”
“But go on, go on. What happened next?”
“Next, Sethra Lavode discovered to me the secret of my birth, and said that I must travel to the Paths of the Dead and retrieve the Orb! And, do you know, with all I have been through, nothing was harder than taking my leave of you that day.”
“You have suffered terribly, my love. Would that I could have spared you! And I—”
“Yes? And you?”
“I left that night, without even stopping to gather my meager belongings. I took the few coins I had, purchased a horse, and Awtlá and Sireng and I rode through the night, blind with grief.”
“Oh!”
“I killed the horse before the night was out, and then I walked, and walked, and I found another roaming wild upon the plains, and so I rode more.”
“Oh!”
“I thought, as I had no destination, perhaps, at last, I could complete my tasks and discover my name.”
“And did you?”
“I believe now that I never will.”
“Oh, do not say that!”
“Why? Do you imagine that I care?”
“How, you don’t?”
“Now that I have found you again, I care about nothing else. Only—”
“Yes?”
“You are the Empress!”
“And if I am?”
“My dear Zivra—or Zerika, or Your Majesty, or whatever I am to call you—”
“To you, I hope I will always be Zivra.”
“So then, you are Zivra. But—”
“Yes, but?”
“It is one thing for Zivra to have a subject and acquaintance who is an Easterner. It is quite another for the courtiers to say that the Empress’s lover is an Easterner. What then?”
“Come, my friend! We will not announce it to the world! It is none of the world’s concern. You perceive, I did not even tell those who just now brought you to me.”
“Will you conceal it from the courtiers? I do not know what it is like in a Palace, but I cannot believe that such a secret can long be kept.”
“Well, and if it isn’t?”
“Then it will be known.”
“Then let it be known.”
“My dear Zivra, you cannot mean it! Think of the scandal!”
“I have thought of it. In fact, I have more than thought of it, I have asked someone about it.”
“What? Who?”
“Who else is entitled to know such things but the Imperial Discreet.”
“The Discreet? But there is no Discreet.”
“There is now, because I have appointed one.”
“Well, and he said?”
“He said that it is important—nay, vital—that, as Empress, my mind remains calm, and that I not permit strong emotion to interfere with my decisions.”
“Well, that seems wise. And then?”
“He wondered how it might affect my decisions if I were spending my time weeping over a lover I could not have.”
“Oh, would you weep?”
“Weep? Without you, my eyes would be red thirty hours a day! Don’t you know that I cannot live without you?”
“Oh, say that again! You know how it makes my heart pound to hear it!”
“Ah! What are you doing? You know that I cannot repeat what I said when you are doing that!”
“Well, try.”
“Ah, your whiskers tickle.”
“Are they less welcome for that?”
“Oh, not in the least, only—”
“Yes?”
“You know that I must return to my duties at Dzur Mountain, and you must continue convincing Kâna’s army to desert.”
“What, now?”
“This very instant.”
“But when will I see you again?”
“Tonight.”
“Have I your word on it?”
“The word of the Empress of Dragaera. I hope that will be sufficient!”
“Oh, it is, it is!”
“Then you are happy?”
“Delirious. You know that I love you.”
“And I love you, but we can spare no more time.”
“Have I time to kiss your hand?”
“Here it is.”
“Ah, I leave the happiest of men.”
“And I bid you farewell, adoring you.”
“Temptress!”
“My own Eastern devil!”
“My elf!”
“Farewell!”
“Farewell!”
Brimford fairly flew up the stairs, back to the roof, where, upon learning that Tazendra had retired to get some rest, and there was no one to transport him back down, found a corner, along with Awtlá and Sireng (who seemed especially happy, sensing the mood of their master), and settled down to take his ease for a few hours. Zerika, for her part, remained alone in the small chamber for a moment, smiling happily. “Well, it seems I must truly work to be a good Empress, if only so that I can deserve this happiness! Oh, if only it will last!”
Chapter the Fifty-Eighth
How Kâna Faced Defeat,
The Empress Faced Victory,
And Arra Faced Her Fear of Heights
So far, indeed, things seemed to be going the Empress’s way: Even as she was speaking these words, Kâna had received the report of his general, Izak.
“Then,” said Kâna, “desertions are increasing by the hour, and many of them are deserting directly into the camp of the enemy?”
Izak bowed his head.
“And we cannot stop these magical attacks?”
/> Izak signified his agreement once more.
Kâna nodded. “We march as soon as the army can be prepared.”
“Very well,” said Izak, speaking in the low, almost whispering tones of a general forced to face ignominious defeat. “Whither shall we march? Dzur Mountain?”
“Yes, though I hold no hope of taking it. But, still, we must rendezvous with Brawre’s army, so that is where we must go. And there are other reasons as well.”
“Your Majesty—”
Kâna waved him to silence. “Our attempt to take the Orb by direct means has failed. Well then, we will find another way. We must continue the pretense of military action, but, fortunately, I have other weapons in my arsenal.”
Izak bowed and said, “I am gratified to hear it, Sire. Apropos, I know that the person—Grita—with whom you trusted certain messages has successfully passed Nacine, and is on her way west.”
“Good. And the other matter? The artifact we had of her that I desired sent west some days ago?”
“It reached its destination, Sire. Word has come in that the matter progresses, though I do not know what this is.”
“It isn’t important that you know, General. That will be all.”
After Izak had left, Kâna murmured softly to himself, “So this is how defeat feels. I cannot say I like it much. Fortunately, this cat has more than one whisker. Our attempt to take the Orb has failed—the Empress has reached or will soon reach Dzur Mountain. Very well. We will move forward, and be ready, because my other plans are already in motion.”
By the time this conversation was concluded, Zerika was, with the aid of Sethra Lavode, once more in the bowels of Dzur Mountain, where she caused Khaavren to be sent to her.
“Well, Captain? How do matters progress?”
“All is, I think, satisfactory. So far as I can tell, the Pretender has lost nearly five thousands of troops to desertion.”
“And how many of them have we recruited?”
“Nearly half. I should expect him to withdraw at any moment.”
“And will he, then, march on Dzur Mountain?”
“It is very likely, either to put us under siege, or at least to combine with his other army.”
“Even with our sorcery, our necromancy, and the witchcraft provided by Morrolan and the warlock, we are not yet in a position to face his army head-on.”
“With this, I do myself the honor of agreeing with Your Majesty. Only—”
“Yes?”
“The wind, as the Orca say, has shifted. Now every hour that passes puts us in a better position. Thanks to Pel’s agents who have been recruiting so industriously, we are gaining forces, and the Pretender is losing them.”
“We are, then, winning.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“I like winning.”
“That does not astonish me. Your Majesty perceives, it is preferable to losing.”
“I am convinced of it. I believe I could come to enjoy victory. But one thing I am curious about, Captain.”
“If Your Majesty would deign to tell me, then, if I can, I will satisfy her curiosity.”
“Whence come all of these agents of Galstan who are so industriously recruiting the deserters from the Pretender’s army into our own?”
“From Kâna’s intelligence service.”
“From his intelligence service?”
“Exactly.”
“But how is this possible?”
“In the most natural way: Pel—that is, the Duke of Galstan—was highly placed in this service before he shifted allegiance.”
“What?”
“It is as I have the honor to inform Your Majesty. He worked for Kâna before you had retrieved the Orb. Your Majesty must know that there are many who had supported this pretender for lack of an alternative. But, when the Orb was returned—”
“Ah. I see. Well, it seems gaining his loyalty was a better stroke than I had thought.”
Khaavren bowed.
“So then?” said the Empress. “What ought we to do now, in your opinion?”
“In my opinion, we must wait, and watch.”
“The waiting I understand. But, for what are we watching?”
“His next stroke. He must know as well as we do what is happening. He cannot wait, but must, rather, do something. We must see what it is that he does, and be prepared to counter it.”
“Is it difficult to counter an attack when one has no notion of what sort of attack it would be?”
Khaavren shrugged. “It is, to be sure, easier to parry a cut to the head when one’s opponent announces that he is about to make one. But often, I have found, my opponents fail to inform me of their precise intentions in a timely manner. This has happened so frequently, in fact, that I have taken to keeping the nature of my own strokes a secret, as a sort of revenge.”
“I take your point, Captain. But do not try my patience.”
Khaavren bowed. “Will that be all, Your Majesty?”
“That will be all.”
Khaavren bowed once more, backed away three steps, turned on his heel, and left in search of Pel, in order to learn the progress of the efforts at recruitment. At nearly this same time, Arra descended a small circular, iron stairway in the temple, entering the basement—a single, open structure with a floor of stone, and walls hung with black curtains filled with strange diagrams and designs that had meaning in the arcane world of Eastern magic.
As she entered, she saw before her, seated on the floor, several hundreds of Eastern witches, grouped in eighteen circles, each of which numbered thirty-four witches, and each circle being sealed by joined hands. Chanting was continuous from these circles, although often one of the witches would receive a tap on the shoulder and would rise, to be replaced by another. Arra looked upon this scene with a certain degree of discontent. As she watched, frowning, an Easterner dressed in a loose-fitting garment of dark brown with a hood over his head approached her, bowed, and touched his palms to his forehead.
“Priestess,” he said, “you seem distraught.”
“It is nothing new, Esteban; only that we are three Circles short of the number that a spell of this magnitude ought to require.”
“And then?”
“I confess to you, Esteban, I should very much prefer not to fall.”
“You have, then, some fear of it?”
“Two sorts of fear: rational, and irrational. But then, if we are able to dispel the rational fear, which is to say, my observation that our Circle is weaker than it ought to be, well, then I believe that my irrational fear would be sensibly reduced.”
“You say the Circle is weak.”
“Weaker than it ought to be, yes.”
“And yet you know very well, Arra—Priestess, I mean—that we could fill those three Circles.”
“Certainly, if no one became ill, and if everyone could hold the chant for four hours instead of three, and if everyone could survive with only two hours between sessions and six hours of sleep. How long could we survive under such conditions?”
“It would not have to be so bad, if—”
“No, Esteban. I know what you are going to say. If we were to cease our call.”
“Exactly.”
“But that, my friend, I will not do. We must have greater numbers.”
“And yet, should the temple fall, will that not decrease our numbers? After all, if we should all die—”
“The temple will not fall.”
“You know we are at the edge of our ability.”
“Only a few hundred more witches, and we will be able to manage three more Circles and we will have achieved the magic numbers of twenty-one and thirty-four—that is to say, twenty-one circles, each with thirty-four witches. With this arrangement, I should undertake to maintain a structure with a hundred times this much weight, and to hold it up forever.”
“I am aware of this.”
“And so I will not stop calling for more witches.”
“And yet, with what is goin
g on below, even as more arrive, how will they get here?”
Arra smiled. “The army below is leaving.”
“How, you have done a Seeing?”
“Exactly. Thirty hours from now, all we be clear.”
Esteban bowed. “I yield, Priestess. You have been proven correct once more.”
“And what of yourself, Esteban, my friend? Have you anything to say on your own behalf?”
“On my own behalf? What could I say?”
“How is it with Thea?”
“Ah, she is polite to me.”
“And that is all?”
“Alas, that is all.”
Arra smiled. “You will wear her down, in time. Who could resist you?”
“It would seem, Priestess, that you have done an admirable job of resisting me.”
“You know very well that my position makes any liaison impossible.”
“So you have explained, Priestess, and I must, perforce, believe you.”
“Well, what else? How are the facilities?”
“Strained, but not unbearable.”
“Cramped?”
“Oh, not in the least, though it would be good to see the outdoors from time to time.”
“Yes, I have no doubt of that. Soon, I think.”
“Yes, once the army below us is gone, we can return to the ground.”
“We can, my dear Esteban, but I am not certain we will.”
“Priestess? I do not not understand what you do me the honor to tell me.”
“I was speaking with the Lord Morrolan, and he is considering leaving the temple here.”
“Here? A mile in the air?”
“Oh, it is not that high, is it?”
“But he can’t think to leave it here!”
“Why not? Can you be unaware, my dear Esteban, that those in his family lived for millennia in castles that floated?”
“How, and they never fell?”
“Oh yes, at the time of the Great Disaster of which you have heard the Lady Teldra speak, they all fell. It must have been a horrible catastrophe; I make no doubt that hundreds were killed. Undoubtedly, that is why it is called the Great Disaster.”
“Well, and this is not sufficient to convince him that this is a bad idea?”
“Oh, but now he has us, you see. He says that he has been considering constructing an entire castle around this temple, and building it all without ever touching the ground.”