The room was blatantly empty. Footsteps and voices echoed between the sheer walls. Balconies were set halfway to the ceiling, with no obvious way to reach them.
‘Please wait while I prepare to receive you,’ Pradmet told them and he vanished through the opposite exit. His guards remained behind, waiting patiently in the doorway.
Lady Wind’s eyes carefully roamed the ceiling.
‘A murder room,’ Captain Orrell informed.
‘What is that?’ Leopold asked with concern, for the words sounded ominous.
‘It’s the final defence before reaching the inner sanctum, where the king or lord would make his last stand. Fortified doors, no hiding spots. See? The defenders would attack us from up there.’ He pointed to the balconies that ringed the room. ‘There is no way for us to reach them, and we are stuck in the open without cover. It’s quite primitive, but they’ve made a decent effort of it. There are some murder holes beside the inner door for firing arrows or thrusting spears, and there—some grates in the ceiling for pouring boiling tar or oil.’ He sniffed. ‘And the oil is being warmed as we speak. Let’s hope it is only a precautionary measure.’
A notable fellow stepped into the space that Pradmet had prior vacated. His head was shaved, similar to the sorcerers but, unlike them, he wore a brilliant, long sleeved shirt of blood red material. It draped down past his knees, almost to the point of being a dress, with matching trousers pulling tight at his ankles. The material shimmered and caught the light so it was difficult to see where shirt ended and trousers began. His feet were bare. His hands were clasped in front of him in a gentle manner, protruding from the folds of his sleeves. His eyes were gleaming and wild.
‘Leave your warriors here,’ the man instructed from the doorway. His voice was grating, sounding like one whose throat was internally scarred. His skin was smooth and black as coal, a striking contrast against the red of his clothing. ‘Pradmet would not have such dangerous things in his presence. Come, you,’ he said, nodding towards Samuel, his fingers still interlocked in front of him.
Samuel’s eyes turned to Leopold and Leopold immediately knew what that meant. He dropped his leash and came obediently to the magician’s side.
‘He should also remain,’ said the bald Eudan with disdain.
‘He comes, sorcerer,’ Samuel stated, leaving no doubt in the matter.
The man shrugged and turned down the narrow hall. It was only then, as the man moved, that Leopold caught a glimpse of his wrists, no bracelet upon them.
Samuel followed the sorcerer into the hallway, but Leopold paused at the threshold, eyeing the narrow slits that pocked the walls, wondering if spears would stab him to death the moment he entered within.
It’s all very good for him, he thought to himself. With a sigh he hurried nervously after the magician’s back.
‘This is the one to watch, Leopold,’ Samuel said softly, nodding towards the man that led them. The sorcerer’s feet trod gently, unhurriedly on the smooth floor.
‘Why is that? He is not even wearing a bracelet.’
‘That’s right,’ Samuel said. ‘Which makes me think—of all the sorcerers we have seen so far, why is he the only one? No ... judging from his manner and outspoken costume, I’d wager he is their leader or a superior of some description; although, the magic about him is not particularly noteworthy. Strange ... I sense something he is hiding; a relic of another kind. This one definitely deserves my full attention.’
The hallway opened into a large throne room, and Leopold’s first thought was that it was very ordinary compared to what he had seen in Cintar—even gutted and in a state of ruin as Cintar had been. At one time this place may have been more decorated, but it had been stripped of all adornments. Tables dominated the room, piled with papers and documents, laid out in an orderly fashion.
Pradmet, having removed his ceremonial hat, now looked much less pompous. His hair was black, showing no signs of the grey, but thinning so as to reveal his scalp in patches. If not for the remarkable length of it there would not have been much of it to cover his head. Currently, it was rolled up and bound on top, with a short brown needle of wood thrust through its centre to keep it in place.
He indicated they should sit opposite at his desk—one almost devoid of paperwork—perhaps keeping it between them for his own safety. He greeted them with a smile and slouched in his chair, but wasted no time in getting to business.
Samuel sat, scrutinising the table closely, momentarily cautious.
Pradmet picked up a writing implement from his desk—not a quill, but something simpler and tidier in design—and pointed it at them as he spoke.
‘No matter how many years I remain here, I cannot get used to this unbearable heat. I would slaughter every Koian and boil their blood for almighty Karva if I thought it would help even one tiny bit.’ He sighed before continuing, gazing directly at Samuel. ‘So, let’s get this over quickly so I can return to my work. Who—and what—are you? You fight like a Koian warrior, but until now no Eudan has ever learned their ways. No Koian has ever parted with a single secret, even when tortured or their families flayed before them.
‘Prithamon tells me you have the air of a sorcerer about you, but you have used no magic spells. Instead, you fight with your bare hands. I find all this unusually compelling. And that is before we even get to your companions. Tell me, where did you find the Amandian woman that accompanies you? And who is this young lord by your side, kept safely at the rear while the others do the fighting?’ He turned his attention to Leopold. ‘Or are you the one I should be addressing? Perhaps your friend here is only the hired help? How am I to tell who is the master and who is the servant?’
Prithamon hovered at Pradmet’s left shoulder, far enough not to seem incumbent on the conversation, but near enough to leap to Pradmet’s aid. There were enough guards in the room to let them know their leader was not defenceless, but Leopold suspected many more might be hiding in waiting in the adjoining side chambers he knew must exist. Surely the room would have more than one entrance, and if it was indeed the sanctuary of last resort, there must be a secret escape route hidden somewhere.
‘You can speak with me,’ Samuel stated and Pradmet’s eyes swivelled back to meet him. ‘We are not from here and we are also not from Euda. I am no Koian warrior and I am also no petty sorcerer. You will soon learn who I am, but first, I must say I am not impressed with the reception we have received so far. You have the look of a gentleman, but you neglected to offer a gentleman’s greeting, and saw fit to test us instead. Where are your manners, Pradmet? What kind of welcome was this?’
Pradmet raised an eyebrow, finding interest in the magician’s words. He glanced towards the guards, before returning his attention to his guests.
‘Gentlemen should be gentle. Also humble and mannerly,’ he told the magician in return. ‘I tested you because you came to my door under false pretences. A guest with noble intentions would not conceal his true nature. I apologise for the brusque greeting,’ he said solemnly, ‘but these are dangerous times.’
‘You still remember the key words, Pradmet,’ Samuel responded, ‘but they are rusty on your tongue. You pepper your language with half-forgotten protocols, while laying claim to the highest position in the land. It is very unusual for one of the clan.’
Leopold understood not a word of what the magician was going on about, but Pradmet drew himself up straight in his seat, alert.
He called to his guards, ‘Leave us!’ and the men moved from the room without hesitation, marching through doors behind freestanding screens, confirming Leopold’s assumptions of other entrances. ‘You, too!’ he said, twisting in his seat to address the sorcerer.
The red-robed man bent in half and curled his hand in circles before returning upright and striding away after the guards, his emotions concealed behind a mien of calm.
When the three seated at his desk were alone, Pradmet threw his pen upon the table. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded. ‘What does the C
ircle want now, after abandoning us for so many years? Why should I even speak with you and not have you executed? I would only have to snap my fingers and the both of you would be dead before you knew it. I—I could have you both cut into twenty pieces for daring to show your faces here! This is an affront!’
The magician waited patiently throughout Pradmet’s tirade, showing not the slightest movement or emotion on his face. As the silence that followed extended, the skin beside Pradmet’s right eye began to twitch, and he looked between Samuel and Leopold nervously.
‘The Circle put you here, young Pradmet,’ Lord Samuel said finally, breaking the pause when satisfied the Eudan leader had fidgeted enough. ‘Don’t presume you came to this station unaided or that you can do any of the things you threaten against us. You may find yourself quickly regretting any ill-conceived words, so I advise you to use your judgement wisely before opening your mouth again. The Darkening changed many things and contact with many lands was lost, but now ... the time is right. I have come to see what has been happening since the chain was broken—to determine if the Circle has remained steadfast. I see it has not, and I cannot help but feel disappointed.’
‘The Darkening was nothing—a few storms and harsh winters for us in Euda,’ Pradmet said dismissively. ‘It was nothing compared to what followed. Now, how I long for such winters again. I would kill for a cool wind or a frosty morning! But it was not the Darkening that caused us to flee. I barely escaped Euda with my life. I lost my family and all my possessions. My wife and children were all slain! Tens of thousands were lost in the first day of that catastrophe alone. Why did you abandon us? Where is Krunal?’
‘Krunal?’ Samuel asked. ‘Ah, I see him now. I know him as Lomar—Poltamir’s errand boy. How long has it been since he last visited you?’
‘Not since he left us with that beast! He created a monster in Trithi and set it upon us. It devoured everyone without mercy, and made the survivors its slaves. As many as possible took flight, and we quickly abandoned hope for those left behind. Euda is lost. We cannot near it without fear of being overcome. Now, even nightmarish beasts pester us here and we only have Prithamon and his followers to keep us safe. How could you not know all this?’
‘As I said, contact has been difficult in recent years. I come from Amandia in the north, where the Darkening has only recently subsided. No one has escaped from Euda to bring me the news, so the situation must indeed be as grim as you imply. I will look into it in good time, but my immediate concern is the affairs here in Koia. I must say I am disturbed that you have appointed yourself as Emperor of this land. It leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.’
‘I am no such thing!’ Pradmet said quickly, defensively. ‘I am simply its administrator. I maintain order and govern by the traditions of our people. There was no one else fit for the task.’
‘You make all the decisions, Pradmet. You are the ruler. It is not fitting for one of the Circle,’ Samuel told him assuredly. ‘Our way has always been to watch from the shadows. You should have put someone else in the role and guided their decisions covertly.’
A patch of skin on Pradmet’s neck was mottled pink and it stretched as he sneered at them. The gums in his mouth were similarly discoloured and grey—like an old hound’s.
‘What good is all that if the Circle is broken? We had no word for so long. Besides, it is pointless to whisper and nudge from the sidelines; I spent all my life doing that and it got me nowhere. During our exodus from Euda all my superiors perished. I took command and saved us all. If not for me, the Koians would have forced us to retreat back into the ocean—to our doom.’
Samuel observed the Eudan gravely. ‘Tell me: where are the Koian members of the Circle? Surely you did not eliminate them?’
‘No. I would not,’ Pradmet corrected quickly. ‘I am not that foolish. Of course, many Circle agents were lost in the years of the war, but those who still lived when I arrived have been made trustees, or now pose as slaves for fellow Eudans I wish to observe.’
Samuel absorbed the words without reaction. ‘And the temple? Where is the Temple of Shadows?’
‘The temple? Why do you seek it?’ Pradmet asked skittishly.
‘I seek the relics. I seek the library ... of course.’
‘It was all burned,’ Pradmet asserted. ‘All the books and tomes were lost long before I came, the relics stolen away or destroyed in the turmoil. The Koians turned upon themselves. I am sure their empress was intent on killing her people herself, rather than allowing us to capture their city.’
‘Then that is unfortunate,’ Samuel stated. ‘Things here appear dismal, Pradmet. I wonder more and more if you are worthy of membership in the Circle at all. I think a donkey may have done a better job in your place.’
Pradmet clenched his jaw and shook with barely contained temper. ‘Who are you?’ he hissed, leaning across his desk and pointing his finger at the magician, regaining his courage as his anger flared. ‘Why should I believe anything you say? I am not about to give up anything on your say so. What authority do you have? What gives you the right to come here unwelcomed and challenging me?’
Samuel waved his hand and Pradmet sat back with a gasp. At first, Leopold could not fathom why, but then he judged from Pradmet’s reaction what had happened. Samuel had dropped his disguise—now revealed to be a pale Amandian in black magician’s robes.
‘I have the greatest authority,’ Samuel stated. ‘I give myself the right. I am the Axel, the Yoke and the Wheel,’ he growled. ‘I am the First and the Last. I am the Chain of Servitude that binds us all. With Cang dead, I am the Circle and I shall rebuild it link by link with the hammer of my will—with or without you.’
‘Cang is dead?’ Pradmet stammered fearfully, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. ‘What happened to him? I only saw him once, but I heard—’
‘I killed him,’ Samuel responded, cutting him off.
Pradmet froze with fear. ‘Wh—what do you want me to do?’ he asked, the blood draining from his face.
‘Kill all your sorcerers—at once and without restraint,’ Samuel went on, without regard for Pradmet’s suddenly faltering state. ‘Every one must be immediately slain. Every hint of magic in your people must be purged. There must be a decisive and total offence against your sorcerers and magic of any kind until all have been destroyed. I expect to be shown the Temple and I expect all those lost items to be found quickly and brought to me, so I can see to their destruction myself.’
‘But—but why?’ the man asked, flabbergasted by the prospect of it all. ‘How can we live without our sorcerers, without their magic? Demonic fiends haunt the lands and spears alone will not keep them at bay. Prithamon is all that protects us.’
‘If my future plans are successful, the fiends will vanish soon enough. Begin at once. If I am happy with your work I will go to Euda and investigate your claims there. I will take care of this beast you mentioned and then you can return home.’
‘Yes!’ Pradmet voiced with enthusiasm. ‘If you would do that, I can leave this accursed land. There is never a cool night here and I am going mad from it! Mist on the grass! Rain that is not steaming as it falls!’
‘I care not what you do, as long as you meet my wishes,’ Samuel stated plainly. ‘Spread the word amongst the Circle—if you can. Begin your work. You seem capable of that at least. I will not interfere as long as you get the job done. If you do not, you will lose more than just your position. I have no particular need of you, Pradmet—only someone who can do what I say. Now, I will take my party and I will return tomorrow to inspect the results. You have until then to commence execution of my commands. If I find they are not being met to my expectations, I will be very unhappy. If I am not making myself clear, that means I will kill you.’
‘Y-yes,’ stammered Pradmet, devastated by the thought.
Samuel pushed back his chair and they left Pradmet without farewell. Leopold hurried after the magician and they returned down the hallway from where they had come.
‘Is it wise to get him so worked up, Lord Samuel?’ Leopold asked. ‘You could have used a little more tact.’
‘Perhaps not wise, Leopold, but I am in a hurry. It will force him to make a choice now, rather than dither about all day trying to make up his mind. If he decides poorly, I suspect we will shortly find out.’
‘But what about the Koians? Won’t you help them? Won’t you free their Empress Moon?’
‘I will not. I will let Lady Wind take care of her own affairs. All I want is the Temple. That will be trouble enough. I suspect it will not be handed over as simply as I wish. Pradmet is not in command here. He may think he is, but someone else definitely does not want me to find it.’
‘Who?’ Leopold asked with interest.
‘We will find out. Pradmet’s mind was shielded from my efforts to view it. It was a capable effort. I gleaned very little from him, and only when he was upset.’
‘Prithamon?’
‘Or another we have not yet encountered.’
‘Could he be even stronger than you? I mean, if you could not get past his spell ...’
The suggestion was an insult. ‘Even a simpleton can jam his finger in a keyhole to stop someone peering through it, Leopold. That does not make them stronger, or wiser.’
‘But even a simpleton can remove said finger with a pin,’ Leopold replied, smug. ‘A wise man would surely think of that.’
The magician glared. ‘Enough of your feeble wisdom, boy. I’m always right. Get used to it.’
They returned to the murder room, where everyone was waiting patiently. The women were still roped in a line, hesitant to shed their disguise as slaves.
‘What happened?’ Orrell asked, hurrying over to meet them.
‘We can leave,’ Samuel said in response.
‘What do you mean?’ Lady Wind asked, still tied amongst the others. ‘What did you do? Did you kill him?’
The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3) Page 31