Strangely, for SpikeFeather had thought WolfStar lied, the enchantment did not pain him in the slightest. The sensation was unusual, but not unpleasant. The memory of Orr’s words and emotions tumbled through his mind, and he could feel WolfStar playing with them, reviewing them from every angle and, SpikeFeather shivered, travelling back down the memory to its source.
To the Star Chamber.
“Stars!” WolfStar cried, and again let SpikeFeather go.
SpikeFeather stumbled, but as he caught his balance WolfStar cried, “Look!”
Before them the grey haze of the vision appeared. In it Orr struggled at the very lip of the Star Gate with Drago SunSoar. Both were shouting, struggling for possession of something wrapped about with an old cloth of strange shifting colours…
WolfStar groaned and sank to his knees. SpikeFeather, dragging his eyes away from the vision for an instant, could not believe the horror on the Enchanter’s face. What was it that so terrified Orr and WolfStar alike?
“He has the Rainbow Sceptre,” WolfStar mumbled. “That carrion bastard Drago has the Sceptre!”
Orr had his hand about the smooth wood of the rod.
“It speaks to Orr,” WolfStar said tonelessly. “The Sceptre acted as a conduit for the power of the Maze. The Maze was the source of the knowledge and the words, SpikeFeather. Not Orr. Orr knew nothing of this place or what it contained.”
“The Sceptre spoke to –?”
“It must be terrified. Look, see how they struggle! The Sceptre has passed the terror to Orr, and he to you. Oh, mercy! Drago, I should have killed you myself!” WolfStar lowered himself into a crouch, almost as if he thought to spring into the vision itself.
Now Drago had pushed Orr away, and he spun the Sceptre about his head. The cloths had fallen off it, and rainbow light spun about the chamber.
Then, amid the violent struggle, the Sceptre came crashing down on Orr’s head, and the Ferryman collapsed on the floor.
“No!” SpikeFeather cried, and reached uselessly into the vision.
“Yes!” WolfStar said. “See how practised Drago has become at murder? He tried with Caelum, succeeded with RiverStar and see how he now does Orr to death!”
Orr breathed his last, and with that the vision faded.
But not before WolfStar had caught a glimpse of the red doe watching from the pillars. Faraday?
WolfStar slowly straightened from his crouch. Had Faraday seen what happened next?
“Did Drago step through the Star Gate with that Sceptre?” WolfStar asked no-one in particular. “Did he?”
“WolfStar, what is happening? Is Orr dead? What is this Maze? WolfStar, tell me what is happening!”
WolfStar’s eyes slowly focused on SpikeFeather’s face. “Well, why not. The Maze itself seemed to want you to find it. Perhaps the Lake Guard were right to trust you. Yes, Orr is dead –”
SpikeFeather wailed.
“Oh, stop your grieving! He had outlived his time and has at least performed one valuable service in relaying the Sceptre’s warning.”
“WolfStar! Tell me what is –”
“If you will be quiet for more than one moment then I will!” WolfStar took a deep breath. “Good. Now, this Maze has stood here for many thousands of years. Tens of thousands of years. Until I told the children who have grown into the Lake Guard, none knew about it save I. Not even Orr or any other Charonite.”
“Did you learn of it beyond the Star Gate? Is it one of the mysteries you brought back with you from the dead?”
WolfStar thought about again rebuking SpikeFeather for the interruption, but decided against it. “In a sense you are right, for I first learned of the Maze beyond the Star Gate. The Maze itself managed to reach me – I know not how – and inducted me into certain knowledges. Largely it was the Maze’s power that enabled me to come back.”
“And you have kept its secrets since you returned? For three thousand years?”
WolfStar nodded.
“Then why show the children I rescued from Talon Spike? Why did they become the Lake Guard?”
WolfStar frowned, for he knew there was something between the Maze and the Lake Guard he was not privy to. “The Maze asked to see them, and so I brought them here.”
“Yet Orr, as all the other Charonites, never knew of the Maze?”
WolfStar was growing tired of the incessant questioning – why did the Maze need to see this irritating birdman of all people?
“They were not required to attend the Maze, SpikeFeather, and thus it never informed them of its presence.”
WolfStar’s mouth curved in secret amusement. “Did you realise that we stand directly under the Grail Lake? This cavern lies far below the depths of the lake.”
SpikeFeather looked startled, his eyes darting nervously upwards as if he expected to see faint trails of moisture seeping down the cavern roof far above.
“SpikeFeather, did you have a chance to examine the gate itself?”
WolfStar walked to the stone arches surrounding the gates, SpikeFeather a step behind him. As he got closer, SpikeFeather saw that the stone was covered in the same strange characters as the columns in the corridor leading to the Maze had been.
WolfStar glanced at SpikeFeather. “Can you read them?”
“No, I can’t…no, wait. This, and this…they are pictorial representations of…”
“Ideas and conceptions, SpikeFeather. The ancients wrote in language that did not use letters as we know them, but actually drew different symbols to impart ideas. If you remember that, then the translation does not become too difficult, although it will take you some months to master it fully. But for now I shall translate. See, the inscription starts here.”
WolfStar squatted by the foot of the arch, his finger tracing upwards, and began to read. The Gate told of a time when four craft from a world very far away crashed into Tencendor, so long ago that the land had a different and now long-forgotten name. The creatures within the craft had died, but the craft had survived, burying themselves into the land, the depressions they created eventually forming the Sacred Lakes.
“The waters of these lakes borrowed an infinitesimally tiny amount of the residual power left from the crafts’ impact, but enough to make them deeply magical. The true magic, however, lay far deeper under the waters.”
WolfStar paused, knowing SpikeFeather was not ready for it all, yet.
But then, who was?
No, there were others who needed to know first – yet even before he told them, WolfStar needed to discover if the vision had been correct, if Drago had truly stolen the Rainbow Sceptre.
“The craft contained various items,” WolfStar said. “Items that the creatures who had originally driven the craft had…appropriated…from some others. I am afraid that these others will one day come back for them.”
And if the shit-rotted Drago had gone through the Star Gate with the Sceptre then they might very well be on the move now.
WolfStar stilled, a frightful coldness creeping over him. Over these past few weeks he had noted an annoying weakness in his power. Not much, just a trifle, but it was there. Witness the minor problem he’d just had with the Song of Recall. Was it because…? No! No! It could not be!
Gods, but he needed to know what was happening!
“WolfStar? WolfStar?”
WolfStar broke out of his reverie. “Yes?”
“If these ‘others’ come back, WolfStar, do we let them take what is theirs?”
WolfStar slowly shook his head. “No. No, we do not let them take what they want. We fight until Tencendor itself is charcoal, if necessary, but we do not let them take what is theirs. Look.” WolfStar pointed to a symbol above the cornerstone of the arch. It was a star, surmounted by a sun.
WolfStar smiled gently. “StarSon.”
“The Lake Guard said they owed their loyalty to the StarSon.”
“Yes, they would protect him above all else.”
“Why did you say only Caelum could enter this M
aze? And why is StarSon mentioned on this archway?”
WolfStar thought very hard, then decided a portion of the truth would not hurt. “SpikeFeather, the Rainbow Sceptre is made partly from the power of the Mother, but in great part it uses as its power the energy of the four craft themselves. The energy that powered the craft also enlivens the Sceptre. The Sceptre is very closely tied to the craft, with what the craft protect, and is thus closely tied to this Maze which is an outgrowth of one of the craft. Axis SunSoar used the Sceptre to destroy Gorgrael, but he used only a tiny proportion of its power to do that. SpikeFeather, I believe the Sceptre can also be used, if need be, to destroy what lies at the heart of the Maze.”
“And StarSon?”
“I believe StarSon is the only one who can wield it. Caelum…I have always loved that boy, but when I knew also how he, or his descendants, might protect Tencendor against the horrors that seep through the Star Gate, my love grew three-fold.”
WolfStar suddenly turned around and stared furiously at SpikeFeather. “And now that carrion has stolen the Rainbow Sceptre! Has he also taken it through to the TimeKeepers? Has he?”
Before SpikeFeather could form any answer, WolfStar disappeared, leaving behind him as many questions as he had answered.
Most particularly, SpikeFeather realised, he had carefully steered the conversation away from the subject of the Grail King and Qeteb.
41
A Town Gained, a Sceptre Lost
“He’s what?” Caelum whispered. “Taken Kastaleon?” Askam shouted, rising from his chair.
The captain shifted uncomfortably. “He argues it is in part compensation for the losses your trading tariffs have caused him and Western Tencendor, my Prince. But,” the captain moved his gaze back to Caelum, “he says he will hand Kastaleon back if the StarSon is prepared to negotiate on the matters that Prince Zared raised when he was here for Council.”
“How could you have lost Kastaleon?” Askam said. He cared not for whatever message Zared had sent.
“My Prince, I had no reason to suspect that the Prince of the North meant to seize the castle. I greeted him in the courtyard with the respect he is due, and instead found myself invaded. StarSon,” again he looked to Caelum, “I did not realise we were at war with the North.”
“Neither did I,” Caelum muttered. “How many men did Zared have with him?”
“Perhaps five hundred, StarSon. Only lightly armoured.”
Caelum looked to Askam, still red-faced and upset. “Is Kastaleon stocked and weaponed for a siege, Askam?”
“What? Oh, ah…no. It could stand a few weeks, perhaps. But not long, and not with only a few hundred men.”
Caelum looked back to the captain. “Thank you, captain. You are dismissed. But do not leave Sigholt yet. I have no doubt that Askam will demand a few more answers from you than I have.”
The captain nodded unhappily. He bowed to Caelum and then Askam, and left the map-room.
Caelum sat silent, needing a few minutes to think. By the Stars! What had driven Zared to act so?
“It is Rivkah’s bad blood,” Askam said in an undertone. “First Borneheld, and now Zared.”
Caelum looked up sharply. “You forget that I carry Rivkah’s blood, too.”
Askam flushed. “My apologies, StarSon. But Borneheld tore this land to pieces in his quest for the throne of Achar. Committed murder to do so. Zared now appears intent on doing the same.”
“I never thought he would go this far,” Caelum said, looking tired and worried. “Taking over Kastaleon? What did he think he would accomplish?”
“My Lord, I request formal permission to lead a force to retake my castle.”
“No, no. Let us think this through a moment, Askam.”
“My Lord –”
“Askam, I am not going to rush into an ill-considered response. Now, sit.”
Caelum turned his face slightly to one side as Askam sat down. What worried him the most was what Zared might be prepared to do next – and who might be prepared to support him in it. FreeFall and Yllgaine would never support Zared’s rebellion – for that is what it was – but what about the human peoples in their territories? Did Zared have good reason to act so precipitously? Caelum remembered Yllgaine saying he’d heard murmurs from among the humans regarding the throne.
“Askam, did Zared have a point about the peoples in the West and North murmuring that they wanted their throne restored to them?”
“No, I have never heard a word about it,” Askam said, but Caelum noticed that he spoke too quickly and would not look him in the eyes.
Caelum dropped his gaze again, thinking. Askam would have good reason to deny that his people were agitating for a restored Acharite king.
Were the human peoples truly muttering about needing a king of their own?
Caelum repressed a shiver. If the people were willing to back Zared there was so much else a King of Achar could restore as well. The hatreds and divisions between the Icarii and the Avar and the Acharites. How well had the humans accepted the return of the Icarii and Avar into southern Tencendor? Not well, if they wanted their own monarch back. And if they wanted their king back, then what else might they consider resurrecting? The Seneschal? A limited war to wrest lands back from the Avar and Icarii?
This time Caelum did shiver. He could all too easily envision a King of Achar leading to another Wars of the Axe and the eventual destruction of Tencendor. Another thousand years of hatreds and bleakness and exile.
How could Zared even think of asking for the throne of Achar? Didn’t he realise the implications? Or did he realise only too well? What else did Zared have planned? A request for the Minstrelsea to be levelled once he had the circlet of king firmly on his brow?
Caelum took a deep breath. This was not just a crisis, but a test. The first real test of his reign. All Tencendor would be watching to see how he coped.
What would his father have done?
“We have to act,” Caelum said, and Askam jerked his head up from his own contemplations.
“How so, StarSon?”
Caelum did not answer immediately, but rose from his chair, walked to the door, and asked the guard to request Strike Leader DareWing FullHeart to attend him immediately.
“Caelum? What do you plan?” Askam said as Caelum walked back and sat down again.
Caelum looked at him, and Askam was stunned to see what appeared to be fear in his eyes. “I plan to quash Zared once and for all,” Caelum said quietly. This is what Axis would have done. “His push for power represents too many evils for me to watch it go by quietly. My father battled for years to reunite Tencendor in the face of Acharite opposition. I cannot lose it for him in just one generation.”
There was a movement at the door, and the Strike Leader entered.
“Ah, DareWing, sit down.”
DareWing, a birdman with sharp brown eyes and saffron wings, sat himself opposite Caelum. “StarSon?”
Caelum briefed DareWing on the situation. “I have to act, DareWing. I cannot let this pass.”
“I agree, StarSon, but surely –”
“Damn it! I cannot believe he would do this!” Caelum said. “Not with all the old hatreds so fresh in our minds. Well, if he has attacked us, then we shall attack him. DareWing, ready the Strike Force.”
DareWing shot an anxious glance at Askam, but Askam’s own face was lit with excitement, and DareWing knew he’d have to fight this on his own.
“StarSon, would it not be better to ask the advice of the other Five Families?”
“No time to call them, Strike Leader. I shall have to rely on my own judgment.”
DareWing took a deep breath. Gods! “Perhaps the StarMan.”
“I sit the Throne of the Stars, DareWing! My father has little to do with the world of mortals. This is my decision!”
DareWing tried one last time. “StarSon, at least discuss this with a wider circle. To use the Strike Force to attack humans in Kastaleon – well, nothing could be more
guaranteed to provoke old hatreds.”
“Ah,” Caelum said tonelessly, “I do not intend to throw you at Kastaleon, DareWing. I want you and your Strike Force to take Severin for me.”
“But –”
“Seize it as Zared has seized Kastaleon.”
“But –”
“Do it, DareWing! I want to see your battle plans this evening! Now, leave us!”
DareWing rose stiffly and bowed.
“DareWing,” Caelum added as the Strike Leader walked to the door.
“Yes?”
“I want no word of this to get out. Severin must be taken by surprise.”
DareWing nodded curtly, and left.
“A city for your castle, my friend,” Caelum said. “I intend to grind Zared into the dust for his stupidity. For this piece of foolishness Zared will lose his seat of power.”
“Good.” Askam sat back. “You will not negotiate with Zared? You are not considering his rash request?”
Caelum grimaced. “A King of Achar is the very last thing that Tencendor or I need, Askam. Rest easy, your lands will be safe. I shall send word that I request Zared to stay at Kastaleon while I summon the other Heads of the Five Families to meet at the castle to discuss the throne – peace, Askam! I simply do not want Zared moving anywhere else until I’ve had time to move. If he believes I’m prepared to negotiate he’ll stay in Kastaleon.”
Caelum smiled grimly. “By the time I’ve finished with him, no-one will support him.”
“When do we ride for Kastaleon, StarSon?” “As soon as DareWing sends word that he has secured Severin. A few days, no more. And within a month, Askam, no-one will want to offer Zared so much as an apple in case it be construed as support.”
DareWing FullHeart led the Strike Force himself, saddened beyond measure that the StarSon had asked him to do this. Severin was a lovely town, bustling and openhearted. It had no idea of the forthcoming attack, no reason to expect it.
DareWing did not lead the full twelve Wings of the Strike Force. Severin would offer no resistance, and six Wings would do as well as twelve.
Besides, once word of this filtered through Tencendor, who knew where else the Strike Force would be required? Damn Caelum for reacting this savagely, DareWing thought, damn him! Why couldn’t he have talked with Zared first? Surely this could have been solved around the negotiating table?
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