The Ancient Ones (The Legacy Trilogy Book 3)

by Michael Foster

  They waited for Samuel’s assent. Daneel was first to grab hold of a baked chicken leg, covered in colourful garnish and flavourings. It squirted juices as he plucked it free and the fluid ran down his chin with each enthusiastic bite. Leopold picked up his fork and skewed a slice of meat from a nearby side of pork and joined the one-eyed man in the feasting.

  ‘It’s good,’ he said, biting down eagerly, for he had not eaten anything so delicious for as long as he could remember, and he was starving.

  The others also began to dine, while Samuel sat patiently, sipping only water from his cup.

  Kali was ravenous, lifting dishes to her mouth and shoving the food in, munching loudly, slurping at her drink. She happily shovelled everything into her mouth with her fingers, ignoring the fine cutlery. It was a disturbing sight, clashing with her beauty.

  How could you? Leopold thought, watching on. The poor woman is doomed and all you think about are her table manners!

  All the while, the servants stood like statues behind them, only stepping in to refill their cups or replace empty dishes.

  Poltamir hovered, observing them quietly from his dais, hidden within his robes, muttering all the while as they dined. ‘Yes ... yes. Good. Eat up! Eat up!’ His whispers crept along the walls.

  When they were full, the table looked exactly as it had at the start, every finished plate replaced with another fresh from the kitchen, spilling over with excessive delights. Every spilt crumb and dropped bone had been quickly gathered away, removing all evidence a meal had taken place.

  ‘Well ...’ the voice of Poltamir rumbled. ‘Tell me. How was it?’

  ‘Good,’ Leopold said, being the first to speak up.

  ‘Delicious,’ Daneel agreed with a burp.

  Captain Orrell said nothing, keeping close watch on their host. He had only picked at his food, his eyes roaming restlessly between the entrances and windows.

  ‘Ah,’ Poltamir purred, full of pleasure, and his deep voice reverberated in their chests. ‘That warms my heart. What a terrible fortress I have built around myself, and how it pleases me to finally have appreciative guests. I always imagined this palace would be my temple, dedicated to love and happiness; but I sit here ... alone and made wretched by my failed ambitions.

  ‘But forgive me. I apologise for being so morose. How could I dampen the tone of such a wonderful feast? Come ... celebrate!’ The voice broke down into long and chuffing laughter, leaving everyone wondering what madness had overcome him. ‘It is only unfortunate that you did not eat, Father of Marrag Lin, but I suppose the food would only sit in your shrivelled stomach and rot. Like myself, your magic has changed you and there is little that is human remaining. I have tried to fill myself with humanity, but it is like trying to fill a bottomless pit with cherry pips. The more I try, the emptier I feel. So terrible is my longing. We are so different from these lovely people that we surround ourselves with, are we not, Samuel? Can you even remember being alive?’

  ‘Magic changes us all,’ Samuel said. ‘But speak for yourself. I am still alive.’

  The terrible voice of Poltamir boomed with laughter, but the cloaked figure at the head of the room remained utterly still, unattached to the voice that issued forth. ‘Come, I have many questions for you,’ he stated once his laughter had subsided. ‘You are an interesting creature, Samuel. Who are these companions you have brought with you into my lair? I would know which mortals have gained your interest. Two men, handy with the swords at their sides, I can tell. You must enjoy their company to bring them willingly into such danger, knowing that blades could never harm me. Still, that is your choice. And that one beside you—I am intrigued. He has the smell of Thann, but I know that Thann is now dead, consumed within you. I must be wary of you, Magician, if you are capable of such a thing, but tell me what has happened here?’

  ‘This is his son,’ Samuel informed their host.

  ‘Oh!’ the voice rumbled with interest. ‘How times have changed! Our master’s grip must indeed be slipping for Thann to sire a child. I have never heard of such a thing in all my time! Marrag Lin is getting lax, or perhaps his reign is nearing its end? Could Lomar really have done what I could not and wrestle his power away from him? No, I am sure we would both know if he had. And that gloating fool would surely appear to tell us himself. Perhaps Lin has something shrewd in mind for us, who can tell? And the young woman—have you chosen her as a mate to continue the line of Thann?’

  Leopold was unhappy to hear such talk, and Kali beside him shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion.

  ‘I have not,’ Samuel responded.

  ‘Wonderful lies!’ Poltamir boomed with what sounded like glee. ‘I see the inklings of your plan already, Magician. Like father, like son. I will be eager to see how your schemes progress.’

  ‘You look into things too much, Poltamir,’ Samuel said darkly.

  ‘Perhaps,’ the voice conceded. ‘So my brother Thann has been defeated, and you have taken his strength, Samuel; but what of Rei? You have her potency—I can feel it within you—but, strangely, I also feel her presence nearby. I smell her; she is not far. Ah, yes ... on your ship.’ The last three words could not hide the longing in his voice.

  ‘Her stubborn essence survives,’ Samuel explained. ‘I could not stamp it out, as much as I tried.’

  ‘Bring her to me, and anything can be yours!’ Poltamir blurted. The pitch rose in his voice, abandoning its resounding bass.

  ‘There is nothing I would want that much, Poltamir. She is my cousin. She is mine.’

  ‘You want your son!’ boomed the voice, again in full force. ‘Bring her to me, or I will tell you nothing!’

  ‘So,’ Samuel said, ‘I see the gracious host shows his true intentions. Tell me, what would you do with her, Poltamir?’

  ‘Nothing ... love her,’ came the conflicting reply.

  ‘Are you even capable of love?’ Samuel asked sceptically.

  ‘We three servants of Lin were not rent of our emotions like you, Magician. Your lack of feeling was your son’s attempt to save you from despair, but all it did was cause you further grief. He left us with ours so we could remember the strengths and failings of humanity, so we would never forget our cause, but time can sour all things, Samuel. Even the purest and greatest of intentions attracts resentment, given long enough. I should know. Now, bring her to me!’

  ‘You cannot control me like your puppets, Poltamir. I will not do as you say. Rei is gone and the woman that remains is not her. I will never give her to you.’

  The air crackled with anger, and the walls themselves trembled with ire. The tension in the room slowly subsided as Poltamir forcefully regathered his patience. ‘I am a tolerant man.’ Somehow, his chortling continued in the background, sounding over his own voice, as if he had two throats from which to speak. ‘I will give you one day to rethink this matter. Return to me with her, or I will tell you nothing.’

  ‘It seems we have reached a stalemate,’ Samuel announced. ‘The one thing you want most is the one thing I will not release. Very well, we will retire to our ship to consider.’

  ‘You can leave your companions in my good care, if you wish,’ said Poltamir, wavering on his platform, perhaps unaware of how obvious was the deception in his voice.

  ‘I will take them with me, Poltamir,’ Samuel replied. ‘Just to be safe.’

  ‘Do not think of trying to escape me, Samuel. Your ship lies within my reach and I will not allow it to leave. I trust you will return on the morrow. I would hate to be forced to come find you. I have not left my beautiful palace since I first commenced its making. I would be loath to do so, but I would—if you made me. I would do anything to get her. I have done anything, and nothing will get in my way, given she is now so close ... so close I can taste her scent as if she were standing beside me now. There must be a trade for your son, Samuel. Rei by my side and Lomar in his grave. That is the cost.’

  ‘I will come,’ Samuel said, ‘tomorrow.’ He pushed back his chai
r and stood, waiting expectantly.

  The curtain squeaked back into place across the dais to once again conceal their host, jerking with each tug of its unseen cord.

  The same captain was waiting in the doorway and he led them back the way they had come, down the hill and out of the dome without fanfare.

  It was a surprise to return to direct sunlight. Leopold blinked until they adjusted to the brightness.

  Their guide led them to the river, where a large oared vessel was waiting, manned by a team of black-skinned, shirtless Eudan men. Wordlessly they sat while the group took their seats, then the heaving began, sending them out to sea. There was no need for an overseer to keep time. They bent their oars in perfect rhythm to the incessant maddening drumming in their heads.

  The Eudan captain remained alone on the riverbank, watching them depart. As they moved away, he glanced over his shoulder towards the dome, then back to the river. Slowly, he trod into the water and continued past his knees. Each step took him deeper, as if intent on striding fair to the other side. He moved casually, calmly, looking contented with his actions. The water met his shoulders and another step took it over his head. As he submerged, he closed his eyes with relief. The bubbles did not last for long.

  The sight sent a shiver up Leopold’s spine, and he turned back to face the others.

  ‘What will we do, Samuel’? Captain Orrell asked. ‘He will surely try something.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Samuel said, ‘or else he is so self-assured that he does not mind waiting another day for us. Time is nothing to him. He has already waited millennia. A day is inconsequential.’

  ‘But will we give him Jessicah?’ Leopold asked.

  Captain Orrell glowered towards him as the question left this mouth.

  ‘Never,’ was Samuel’s assured reply.

  ****

  The Farstride was waiting exactly where they left her, and the long Eudan craft carried them safely to her side, before pulling away in silence. The crew were well, although many complained of headaches. The intensity of Poltamir’s pounding signal had increased and was now clearly audible, booming far away.

  ‘We tried to move away as you said,’ Captain Merryweather said. ‘But we could not raise the anchors. Something has seized them in place. We were going to send someone down to take a look, but we thought it safer to await your return—given the circumstances.’

  ‘Wise decision, Captain. I will take care of your ailing men. I sense Poltamir’s magic below. Evidently, he does not trust us.’

  Relieved to be back on the refuge of their ship, the landing party went their separate ways to rest.

  ****

  Dusk was settling and men were lighting the ship’s lamps. Smoke and steam issued from the kitchen. Despite his generous lunch, Leopold hungered for dinner, convincing himself it may be more of the same delights.

  He climbed up to the top of the aftcastle and made his way to Jessicah’s room. Nodding to the two serious-looking guards and receiving a chorused ‘Your Majesty’ in reply, Leopold opened the door and eased himself inside.

  Jessicah was bound, looking well rested at least, and she watched him in silence as he came to the bedside.

  ‘How was your excursion?’ she asked.

  It was impossible to tell which one was speaking—Jessicah or Rei.

  Gently, he drew a chair, sat, and crossed his legs at the ankles. ‘May I know to whom I am speaking?’

  She looked at the ceiling, her emotions indeterminable. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘It was only a question.’

  She sighed. ‘I think we are becoming less distinct as time passes. I find it difficult to tell my own thoughts from hers. I’m not even sure who I am any more. Please, enough of such talk. It is lonely enough in here that I could do with some chitchat, whoever I may be. Tell me of your journey. Was it eventful?’

  ‘Oh, we had some trouble, but we returned alive, so I guess that is the main thing.’

  ‘Indeed,’ she agreed. ‘How was Poltamir? Did he live up to your expectations? It has been a long time since I have seen him, but strangely I remember him well. See? There I go, talking with two minds at once.’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Leopold said dismissively. ‘Poltamir is a disturbing man.’

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘He put us in quite the predicament. He would not tell us what we wanted to know, not without paying his price.’

  ‘Oh?’ she said with interest. ‘What was his price?’

  ‘Actually, it was you.’

  ‘Me?’ she asked anxiously. To Leopold she appeared for all the world like Jessicah; but how could he ever truly be sure? How could he possibly trust her, knowing how devious and persuasive Rei could be?

  ‘Poltamir knew you were here—at least, he knows Rei is here.’

  She pondered the statement. ‘Yes. He was smitten with me, but I never returned his feelings. My heart was always for Thann—Rei’s heart, at least—but I also hated your father for so long—and I don’t even know why. So much has been lost across the endless centuries. What a strange and twisted world it has become. I just don’t know about anything anymore. I can barely contain my grief,’ she added, confused and shaking her head.

  ‘And what of her heart now? What of your heart, Jess?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Leopold,’ she said sadly. ‘David will never love me, now he knows what I am.’ She gathered resolve and regarded Leopold seriously. ‘I think you should give me to him. It is better than this. Poltamir is a sad and unfortunate man, but he will treat me kindly, no matter who I am. I will not be happy, but it doesn’t matter. As long as everyone else survives, I can persist—and it won’t be for long. Nothing lasts forever.’

  Leopold was quiet as he mulled over her comments. ‘I cannot make such decisions. Samuel will decide, but I shall talk with him nevertheless.’

  ‘He will not always be with you, Leopold, to give you such advice. One day, you must learn to make decisions on your own.’

  ‘Yes,’ he told her, ‘but not today. And for that, I am thankful.’

  He left her there without saying goodbye, knowing that what she was offering was unthinkable, yet it was the best solution they had by far.

  ****

  The men were at their meals, sitting across the decks in groups of varying proportions. The Farstride’s stores were thrown open and the last of their food and liquor was being served with the feast. The men were jubilant, drowning out the infuriating noise in their heads with rum and celebration. Still, it was a hollow joy and between every cheer and merry song, unsettled glances passed to shore, where Poltamir’s dome waited, throbbing.

  Leopold found Captain Orrell high on the aftcastle, looking down and watching his men. He had made no attempt to brush his hair and his shirt was creased and untucked, completing a slovenly appearance.

  ‘Are you not going to eat?’ Leopold asked him, holding his own plate.

  ‘Later.’ A line of emptied rum glasses balanced on the railing beside him and his breath declared he had emptied them all himself.

  ‘Do you think it wise to waste the last of our provisions, Captain?’

  ‘I do not, but as Samuel puts it, it makes little difference. He seems to think this will be the last sunset these men will see, so let them enjoy it.’

  ‘You believe in his premonitions?’

  ‘I don’t know what he calls it, I only know the look that comes over him when he realises good men will die. I watched as the shadow crossed his face, and it told me what will happen without him needing to open his mouth. I’ve seen it many times.’

  ‘Well, I don’t believe it,’ Leopold stated. ‘We will not give up. We are Turian, are we not? We will fight until every last one of us is dead if need be, and we will not be defeated without trying our best. Damn what the magician saw or what he believes.’

  Captain Orrell scoffed, laughing aloud. ‘What a change, Emperor Leopold! I would never have expected such rich talk from you. Here you are, the sh
ining example of a Turian Lord, dressed proper in your Emperor’s best, and look at me—a sorry excuse for a man. Live or die, I don’t care anymore.’ He threw his head back and downed the last mouthful, then he released his grasp on the glass and let it drop into the sea. To finish, he belched long and deep. The stench of rum billowed forth, bubbling from the captain’s stomach.

  Leopold set his plate onto the floor, and put his back against the railing. ‘She truly loves you, Captain.’

  The man examined Leopold dourly. ‘Is that supposed to help? It doesn’t matter if she loves me or not. Tomorrow is our last day, and we don’t have a shred of hope. We carry the salvation of all those back in Cintar and across the world, yet we are lost ourselves. Samuel’s quest has doomed us, Leopold. It was impossible from the start.’

  ‘So it is not my crusade anymore?’ Leopold asked.

  Orrell turned around to match Leopold’s stance, looking towards the stern of the ship. ‘I think we both know we are here because of him.’

  Leopold followed the captain’s nod, for a cloaked shadow waited at the very rear of the vessel; motionless, alone, looking out to sea.

  ‘It’s true,’ Leopold told him, ‘but we are also here because of us. We all chose to come here, knowing what might happen.’

  ‘That’s true, Your Majesty. I serve the Turian Empire with all my being—I always have. The soldier first, the man second, but man and soldier both have long worn out. We are only human, and we can only do so much before our hearts cave in.’

  ‘I beg to differ, Captain,’ Leopold told him. ‘Our hearts can long outlast flesh and bone if we choose to retain our faith. And every soldier needs love in his heart, or what is there to fight for?’ Orrell did not look at him, did not respond. ‘Hope is not lost, Captain. She loves you, I’m sure, and she needs you. Forget the magician and forget tomorrow. What you and Jessicah share is precious.’