“She is with the rahkens.”
“My thanks, Guryon.”
Nothing more came. They shrugged, shifted and were gone. Jek sighed in relief and bit into a milky purple fruit.
It tasted bitter.
He returned his room to Arram and left through the door like ordinary men would. They had found the woman, at least, but at what cost? Perhaps it would be free. He convened the Speculate and began making the preparations. The mercenary still roamed but with the girl there would be no mistakes.
*
Chapter Seventy-Five
Finally, thought Tirielle. They were almost ready to leave. Dow had just broken the horizon, joining Carious who was already gazing down on the world.
No one but her seemed to be taking the seer’s warning seriously. Everyone just said the seer saw the future, not the present. How far into the future the seer saw was what Tirielle was worried about. The warning had seemed dire enough to her.
She could not rush them, though. She needed them. And, it seemed, she needed the girl.
She kicked the ground in frustration. It seemed she was the only one who felt any sense of urgency. She might have been loath to leave before, but now she knew (although she did not know how she knew – perhaps she had an enhanced sense of self-preservation) that the Sard were wrong. Something dreadful was going to happen today, and nobody but her was afraid. It was something she had not experienced since coming to the rahkens’ home.
The seer’s hair had been washed and plaited. Tirielle had found it gave her something to do while she waited for everyone to ready their packs and steeds. Over the weeks since leaving the shelter of the mission on the outskirts of Lianthre, the girl’s hair had grown long and, Tirielle found, curled when it was washed. She had placed both plaits against the seer’s chest.
Unthor tied her to his and Typraille’s horses.
They all stood in the great antechamber, saying goodbye. Tirielle had tried to impress upon Quintal the urgency of the seer’s warning. To her frustration he would have none of it, but she tried again anyway.
“I wish you would listen to me. We must leave. We should have already left.”
“The leaving ceremony is ritual, Tirielle, and it is there for a reason. You must know this, as a councillor?”
“Yes, Quintal. I know this. But I also know we are in grave danger here. It was not on some girlish whim that the seer spoke to me. I do not know how she did it, but if she somehow managed to break the hold on her for even a moment to warn us that something is coming, then something is coming. I’ve no doubt we do not want to find out what it is.” As Tirielle spoke she fidgeted, impatient to leave.
“Irrespective of the urgency the farewell must be passed, Tirielle. Take it with grace – allies are hard to come by.” In front of them the rahken settlement was arrayed in a semi-circle. Thick manes, thick skinned faces and thick bodies lined up before her, eager in their interest. They had come to see the group off, in the usual rahken fashion. Some held gifts.
Quintal nudged her forward. “Go on! Fenore is waiting for you.”
Tirielle staggered forward at the unexpected push from Quintal, toward Fenore. Fenore held her arms wide – as wide as a man is tall – and called out in a booming voice for all to hear.
“Lady Tirielle A’m Dralorn. For our new found friendship, and for the love you have shown my child, allow me to give you this parting gift. May they act as a shield or sword as your need arises – Beheth is an unforgiving city and hidden friends are sometimes needed…”
Fenore unwrapped and presented Tirielle two daggers sheathed in supple leather. Held in such a hand Tirielle’s mouth dropped open, urgency suddenly forgotten. She stepped forward to Fenore were she stood beaming down at her. That such seemingly unwieldy hands could hold such things without crushing them, let alone make them, was astounding.
The leather of some faintly stripped creature had been fashioned into two thin wrist scabbards, but, she thought, taking one in each hand from Fenore’s hand, how light and thin! She strapped them onto her forearm one at a time. Reaching both she drew the blades and they whispered into her hands. The blades were etched with strange markings and the handles themselves were made from horn. They were feather-light and sharp enough to cut bone.
“Forgive me, Tirielle, we are unaccustomed to making weapons…I hope they are suitable.”
Tirielle looked up in amazement, all urgency forgotten. The murals on the roofs she could have imagined them making – but these…they were unlike anything she had ever seen. She did not even know if the artisans of Lianthre could even copy such skill.
“Thank you,” she said with real meaning. “They are unbelievable. Thank you.” She stepped forward and hugged Fenore. When she stepped back she said, “Fenore, thank you for your hospitality all your help. I know we will meet again…and…I have really appreciated the time we spend together. It has been an education.”
Both women looked choked and even Fenore’s eyes were misting. “I’ll miss our talks,” she told her.
Roth watched impassively as Disper said to it, “Women, eh?”
“I would not know, Disper. I really wouldn’t,” replied Roth.
As they walked along the tunnel to the wide entrance to the world Tirielle looked down at herself.
j’ark caught her admiring herself in a new long dress and playing with the blades under the sleeves. The pleasure on her face made him feel desire. It was an unpleasant sensation. Something he did not understand, troubling in its intensity. He would have to calm himself for the journey ahead. Such distractions a warrior could ill afford.
She saw him looking at her through his golden hair and laughed.
“You must think me silly, j’ark, so pleased at the gift of these trinkets.”
j’ark took a second before replying, putting his strange, unknown feelings away. “Not at all. I saw you with nothing, remember, and you were a shining star then. You are a special person, Tirielle. The things you own do not change you.”
“Perhaps that is because I have been accustomed to having nothing…” As soon as she said it her j’ark had to reach out a hand and steady her. She crumpled bonelessly into his arms and whimpered. He lifted her eyelids and saw her soul was absent.
“Ludec! Fenore! Come quickly – magic!” he shouted down the hall, laid her on the floor and knelt beside her…
They made me cry, Tirielle, they made me gag. They put that thing in my gullet. It made me cry and gag, but they would not stop. They waited to see what would happen but they would not stop. Then they watched me scream as the seed took hold. It held onto me with its spikes and I screamed and my consciousness soared and they drank it in like it was juice.
I show the roads, you take one.
Or make your own.
Roads? The crossroad is opening.
Stay out of the tunnels. Stay in the light.
Too late
Before he could lay his sword at his feet, before his cry could elicit a response, Tirielle cried out and clutched her head. j’ark reached out and held her arm. “What’s wrong? Fenore! Ludec, something…”
“No, no.” Tirielle looked around before standing up. If she thought it odd that she was laid out on the floor she said nothing. She just stood and fixed j’ark in her stare, with new, bright determination in her eyes. “I’ve just been reminded what I’m here for,” she said. “There are some things you need to hear from time to time.”
She shook her head. “When this is done, j’ark…when this is done I will raise an army and burn Arram to the ground. For now she gave a warning – ”
“The seer?”
“Yes – stay from the tunnels – there is great danger in the tunnels.”
“From what?”
“She did not stay to tell me.” Tirielle replied whimsically, rubbing her head, as Fenore, Ludec and Roth dashed toward her from the cavern’s depths.
“I’m fine!” called Tirielle and they slowed. The Sard followed, leading their hor
ses behind them.
“But, as we’re all here, perhaps it is time we left?” she said pointedly as Quintal came to the front of the Sard.
He smiled back at her. “Yes, my Lady. I know you itch to be off…”
Tirielle, catching Fenore’s disapproving glance, said hastily, “No, no! Fenore, Ludec. As much as I have enjoyed your hospitality, Quintal is correct. It really is time we left. Such warnings are not to be taken lightly…”
Fenore nodded sadly. “I agree. She may see through time differently to others with more…mortal…vision, but I feel it, too. It is time. Roth, before you go…?”
“Mother…” Roth turned to her. Ludec joined them. They hugged their goodbyes at the point were the shadows of the cave broke clean against the suns’ light.
Fenore whispered to it, “There is something I must tell you now…” She took his head in her hands and held her cheek against her only child’s, closing her eyes. They broke and Roth turned to Tirielle. It nodded, blinking long thick eyelashes over its dark brown moist eyes.
“Well, what did she say?” asked Tirielle as it walked to her with a pensive look – a sort of squint with its bushy eyebrows that she had come to recognise.
“Nothing. I know nothing, Tirielle. She alludes to some promise, and some…I cannot tell you more.”
“It does not seem like good news, Roth?”
“Maybe it was. Only time will tell. I cannot say more than this on the subject, Tirielle, please leave it. Even rahkens are kept in the dark – only once a warrior joins the elders is it told of the ancient promise.”
“What promise?”
“I don’t know. I’m not an elder yet. Come, let’s go.”
Tirielle looked around at her companions. “Very well,” she said. She was glad of them – there were few in the world that she would have entrusted her life to until she had met these people – and beasts. Her faith reaffirmed, she too was ready. “Then, my thanks, Ludec, Fenore, to you and your people. It has been an honour.”
“May that one day we meet again, Tirielle. We wish you luck in your quest.” Ludec looked down at the seer, strapped again to a sled on the back of two horses. The rahkens did not like to duck in their own homes and mounted men could easily pass along the tunnels to the caverns below.
None of the Sard were mounted as yet – it was discourteous to ride into someone else’s home.
“Then – ” Tirielle patted the knives gifted to her. “ – thank you for the gifts. Until we next meet.”
Tirielle led them out into the light.
She was the first to see the black robed wizard squinting down at her. The wizard smiled wickedly as he spoke.
“Well, well, Citizen A’m Dralorn. Well met.”
Damn, thought Tirielle. Too late, indeed.
*
Chapter Seventy-Six
“You are to be congratulated, Tun, you have excelled.”
“Congratulated, perhaps, but the downfall of these pettifoggers is scant challenge for ascendants such as us. I still fail to understand, Speculate, why we waste our time on these pathetic children. They are no threat to us, and yet we leave the Hierarchy unmolested. The hierarch’s may yet oppose us. The hierarch’s themselves will have ascendants among them when the time nears.”
Jek sighed. For all his power, all his cunning, Tun was held back from true greatness by a trick of the mind. It would not change. It seemed ascendancy only accentuated natural traits – it could not make a leader of a jackal.
He was in ill humour after his meeting with the Guryon. Tun had accosted him on the way back from the Speculate, where he had ordered the Tenthers to the rahkens home.
He chided himself. Never let your mood affect your work. He breathed in and steadied himself. The first battle for Lianthre was already underway.
“Tun, both are the threat. When the battle for Rythe truly begins, we must be outside of the conflict. This is the way we have worked until now – and for good reason. When the veil is finally removed we will see just what direction the human’s ire takes. They will tear the Hierarchy to pieces for us.”
“You think they can?”
“Have you any idea how many humans there are on this continent, Tun? Regardless of your impatience, it must fall, and it must fall quietly. The Kuh’taenium must fall. We originally intended it to be a distraction, a solid image that the people could hold onto, but it has evolved. Some of these humans’ sense of justice must have seeped into it. The law is sick and we must kill it.”
“They are just stupid. They know nothing of the law.”
“But still…” Jek paused. “The law knows of them and the humans are a threat. They breed. Had you not noticed? They are also the Hierarchy’s pets, and we must not prod them. Not yet.”
“Then they are a threat? You do not think them so happy, playing with their Lianthrian mice, that they no longer have any idea why we are here, no idea of our purpose?”
“The Hierarchy may have fooled the humans, but are we so blind? You truly think the Hierarchy impotent, too? Not so brother, your confidence betrays your vision. Both have teeth. The Hierarchy simply do not care. Should we wake them from their pastimes, Brother, we could wake a giant. I council that we take caution – if a rising among the humans is brought about and we are found to be at blame, the Hierarch may take their side.”
“But they were once as we!”
“Yes! And now they have lost their powers. They have slaves and playthings to torture for their amusement. They have no need of the skills that make us great, but do you think they have become so lax in all these years to lose all power? I think not. Again, I council caution.”
“It will be as you say, Brother.” Tun bowed at this but his eyes glowed with power. Tun was sly enough not to let his anger get the better of him here. “Council is waiting on your orders, Speculate. They watch the battle in the great hall. Everyone is amazed that you found her.”
“I am Speculate for a reason, Tun. Give me a while longer. I must ponder recent events. Alone.”
“Very well, Brother. We await. We will convene again on your word.”
“No, wait in the hall…things may move quickly now, Tun. You underestimate yourself. The Kuh’taenium is more important than the First or the Second. The future can still hold with them intact but the Kuh’taenium standing when the return comes could spell disaster.”
Jek didn’t think it was the case, but it would not do to have the second ascendant jealous of Klan’s high duty – or his own. He dismissed Tun with a flick of his hand and turned back to the shuttered window. He closed his eyes and looked through the hardened wood to watch the battle begin.
*
Chapter Seventy-Seven
“Most inconsiderate of you, Lady. I have been waiting some time.”
“Well, in that case – ” Tirielle drew both knives to make her point, “ – you have my apologies. But I’m here now…”
“Indeed.”
Behind her the Sard were emerging from the darkness. Roth came and stood at the back of Tirielle. They did not blink at the sun or the wizard, as though the presence of the Protocrat was no more unexpected than the sudden brightness. Dow bowed respectfully to its servants as they emerged. Its light reflected back at it from their armour.
The other rahkens still stood behind, unaware anything was happening and too far back to hear as only three could fit through the entrance to their caves at once and Tirielle was blocking it.
She looked around. She could see nothing out of the ordinary. She did not for one minute believe the wizard had come to this place alone. The trees were too far back for assistance to arrive in time should she decide to attack. Nonchalantly, she turned around to indicate the Sard behind her – she checked to make sure that the seer had not been brought out. Typraille led his unencumbered horse out into the light and winked at her. She turned back to the wizard.
“This time it is you who are outnumbered.”
“Yes, yes, shush now. You would have been
arrested and tried but this time I’m afraid to say I care not. I am tired of chasing around after you.”
“My Lady has sanctuary here. You shall not pass.” Roth stepped up and loomed next to its mistress.
“The treaty? Rahken, your lady is a murderer.”
“Your words or laws have no weight here.”
“Then I say to hell with the treaty.”
“Then you will break the treaty.”
“Oh,” the wizard pursed his lips into a long line, “alright then.”
Tirielle twirled the blades as she stared into the wizard’s eyes.
j’ark stepped up. “We’re leaving and you, limp, are in the way.”
“That didn’t sound very diplomatic…” said Tirielle through the side of her mouth.
j’ark shrugged and pulled his sword around to the front, sweeping his cloak back. “Diplomacy is just war without steel. I think I’ll get what I want either way, so why waste words?”
“And what is it you want?”
“Him dead.”
j’ark’s sword dipped toward the waiting wizard. “Well?”
Tirielle indicated her emerging allies expansively, “Shall we see just how powerful you are now?”
The wizard seemed to consider this, too. “Why not? I seem to be at a loose end anyway.”
Quintal spoke to him from over Tirielle’s shoulder. His voice was relaxed and friendly. “It must be dull for you, so far from home.”
“It is that. Still, you fellows look like good sport. Perhaps things’ll liven up yet…”
The words came from his mouth but never emerged. The mouth itself disappeared as Quintal’s sword ripped up and through from the hip to the crown of the wizard’s head. It met no resistance. Blinking, Tirielle looked around her. An illusion, undoubtedly, but she still could not see anything out of place around her. The Sard were warily surveying the landscape, too, and even with their heightened vision they could see nothing. Just the trees standing away over the rock in front of them and more rock behind them.
Rythe Awakes (The Rythe Trilogy) Page 33