by Matthew Ward
Even this quickly became intolerable to Elspeth who, growing bored of bouncing around on my shoulders, leapt to the ground, and readopted her mortal form.
"I thought we agreed not to attract unnecessary attention?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I didn't agree any such thing. I merely complied for a time. It's not as if it did you a lot of good back in Indrig, did it?"
I made no reply, partly because I didn't want to get into an argument so early in the day, and partly because she was right. Besides, my shoulders were already full of raw pinpricks from Elspeth's claws, and it was blessed relief to know she wouldn't be adding to them any time soon.
*******
We passed three more villages as the morning wore on, all nestling in the fertile valley floor, far below the swaying pines. Two had been reduced to ruins by the fallen, but the third endured. As we drew closer, I saw smoke rising from its chimneys. Deciding we didn't want to risk a repeat of what had happened at Indrig, Elspeth and I left the road and passed the village under the cover of the trees.
At last, we reached the Grelyt River, and the border between Thrakkia and Tressia. Beyond, not only were the roads straighter and better maintained, but there were even occasional signposts. These quickly confirmed that we were, indeed, on the right track for Edrekan, and therefore Valna couldn't lie far distant.
It didn't. After another hour's walk under grey and ominous skies, the forests gave way to the rolling moors and sparse woodland of the Tressian countryside. I sighted a hilltop village off to the east. A moss-covered signpost confirmed it as the place I sought.
A spur of the road wended its way back and forth as it crawled towards the walled settlement upon the crest. Unfortunately, the wall presented a problem. I'd hoped to sneak into Valna and locate Morecet without anyone else aware of my presence, but the wall made that impossible. I'd have to hope that things went better for me here than at Indrig. I ordered Elspeth to return to my shoulders – which she reluctantly did – pulled my hood low, and set off up the hill.
As it happened, no one challenged me as I entered Valna, for the simple reason that the village seemed abandoned. Nor was there any trace of anyone having been in the village for some considerable time. The gate was open and unguarded, so I passed straight through, all the while wondering if I was walking into a trap.
*******
There was no stench of death, no sign that the fallen had been at their grisly work. There were four small houses, their design a mixture of Tressian and Thrakkian styles, as might be expected in the borderlands, and a larger dwelling of similar design. However, it was the sixth building that caught my attention.
It was a large structure of white stone, surrounded by colonnades and crowned with a central tower I was amazed that I hadn't seen from the main road below. A flight of stairs led up to the entrance archway, the approach flanked by statues, each figure half as tall again as I. The temple would have been all the more impressive had it not been so badly overgrown. Vines choked the flanks of the building and wound about the columns. Moss grew thick upon the steps, and nettles sprouted between the gaps in the cracked flagstones. Even the statues had suffered. One was missing an arm, and much of another's leg had crumbled away below the knee.
A battered wooden armchair sat tilted onto its back legs, the backrest lodged unceremoniously against the nearest statue. Seated in the chair, watching me with his usual mixture of amusement and interest, was Morecet. For all the world he looked as if he'd been waiting for us to arrive, and perhaps he had. It would have been easy enough to note our approach from the walls, but I had the sense he'd known without resorting to such mundanities.
"Greetings!" he called. "You've taken your time getting here."
"I had a few problems along the way."
Elspeth sprang from my shoulders. I drew back my hood, granting Morecet sight of my starkly pale skin. He didn't look surprised, but he at least had the grace to look guilty. "Ah, yes. I never expected the serathiel to go quite that far."
"She didn't. At least, not for freeing you. That only earned a drudgedom in your stead. This came out of something else."
"And now you're here to collect on my debt?"
"You assume correctly. Things are worse than we thought."
"Worse than you thought," Morecet corrected. "It's all proceeding more or less as I expected, sad to say." He peered down at Elspeth. "You don't have to play the pet for me, my dear. Which one are you? Elise, Elene..."
"Elspeth," she said coldly, dropping her guise once again.
"As lovely as your myth." From another, the words might have been charming, but Morecet managed to make the compliment a mockery.
I drew closer, the anger that had followed me since Indrig welling up anew. "What do you mean, 'it's all proceeding as you expected'?"
Morecet switched his gaze to me. "Exactly what I said."
"You knew what the serathiel intended?"
Morecet, canny as he otherwise was, missed the signals. "Of course." He spread his arms wide. "The signs were there for those with wit to..."
He broke off with a choked sound as I locked a hand around his throat.
"Why didn't you tell me!" I hoisted Morecet out of his chair, span him around and slammed him up against the nearest statue.
Kill him! raged the voice in my head. He deserves nothing less!
"It wasn't time," Morecet gasped. He pried at my fingers, but found no purchase. "It would have changed nothing."
"It might, if you'd told me when we met in the palace square! Before Arianwyn fell into the serathiel's clutches! Before the Tressians allied themselves with Skyhaven!"
"It wouldn't," Morecet spluttered. "You had to see it all for yourself. Let me go Edric, you don't want to do this."
But you do, the voice told me. Squeeze a little tighter and it'll all be over.
The voice was right. I'd been betrayed too often. It was time to make someone pay. I shut out Morecet's pleading voice, tightened my grip...
Elspeth slapped me hard across the face, the sound of it a whip crack.
Taken by surprise, I released my grip. Morecet fell, gasping for air. I ran my fingers across my cheek. It didn't hurt exactly, but it tingled in a peculiar fashion.
"What was that?" she demanded. "We've travelled a long way to find this man – at your insistence, I might add. Now you're going to kill him? Have you taken leave of what little sense you possess?"
"Perhaps I have," I replied softly. The voice in my head had gone, and the anger with it.
She rolled her eyes. "Kill him later, if you like. I don't much care. But he can't tell you anything if he's dead."
I stepped towards Morecet, who had watched the exchange with interest. The movement took me closer to Elspeth, who shrank back. That, more than anything else, made me ashamed of what I'd done. I offered Morecet my hand.
"I'm sorry. You're right. It wouldn't have changed much. The council would still have pursued an alliance. Arianwyn would still have wanted to judge for herself. Azyra would have captured her through curiosity, if nothing else – especially with her father on Skyhaven."
Morecet hesitated, then allowed me to raise him to his feet. "You have my apology too, for what it's worth. I should have told you, but secrecy has become something of a habit. As for this," he touched a hand to the livid bruise about his throat, "I've survived worse, and I don't think it was really you who attacked me, was it?"
I frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I'll tell you later." He glanced up as the sky began to rumble. "Let's talk inside. I'd rather not be soaked through."
*******
Morecet picked up the chair, and led us back down the stair and to the larger of the houses. The ground floor was but a single large room, save for a small lobby where the staircase rose to the upper floors. The space was almost entirely bare of furnishings, with only a handful of battered chairs and an equally worn wooden table.
Morecet set his chair down next to the others and sat down.
I selected one of the remaining seats and joined him. Elspeth remained standing by the door.
"Will you not join us, Daughter of Ashana?" Morecet asked. "I'd offer refreshment, but I suspect you're beyond the need for such things, one way or another." His smile was back, but his tone was polite. Not that it helped him much.
"I'd rather wait outside," said Elspeth, flatly.
"In the rain, and in that dress?" I asked.
"I like the rain, and I don't feel the cold."
"And you don't like me?" Morecet asked, not fooled in the least.
"No I don't. I'll leave you mortals to discuss your business." Elspeth fixed her gaze on Morecet. "But be warned. If I hear screaming, or sounds of violence, I'm still going to stay out there, so I'd be careful not to provoke Edric further, were I you."
I winced as Elspeth left, not wanting to be reminded of my earlier overreaction. The rain lashed noisily against the windows. "What is this place?"
"I told you. It's Valna." My irritation at so useless an answer clearly showed on my face, for he hurriedly clarified. "It's been without tenants for years now – too far from anywhere, I suppose – so my master made it his home, and therefore mine as well."
"So where is he?"
"In the temple," Morecet explained. "He likes to meditate, and finds the atmosphere within more conducive to results. He finds my prattle disturbing, which is one of the reasons I'm so rarely here."
"What is it you do for him?"
"Whatever he asks, provided it keeps my life interesting. I do get so terribly, terribly bored."
"So what were you doing when I first met you?"
"Taking note of events, and reporting back." Morecet grinned. "My master has flashes of insight concerning the future, but he doesn't like to travel to test the accuracy of his visions. He saw the alliance between the Empire and the Republic long before you rode east to forge it, and was very pleased when I carried news that it had come to pass."
"He's probably less cheered by what's happened since."
"To put it mildly," Morecet agreed. "But the world isn't always what we would wish of it. So his faithful servant rode out once more to see if there was anything to be done. Sadly, there wasn't. At least, not by me. You might have a better chance."
"Why do you work for him?"
"Why do you care?" Morecet countered cheerfully. "You of all people should know that life seldom brings the companions we expect."
"Elspeth doesn't like me much," I agreed. "But seems to like you less."
He grinned. "It has not gone unnoticed. But then, you don't like me much either, do you?"
"I'm not sure," I confessed. "I don't like people who lie to me, who keep secrets from me, and who use me to further their own agenda."
"And that's what you think I'm doing now, Edric? I'm wounded." He sounded aggrieved, but didn't look it. Indeed, he was smiling even more broadly than before, and I'd the distinct impression I'd passed some kind of test.
"Elspeth doesn't like you. Constans doesn't like you. Azyra seemed almost afraid of you," I mused. "Now why would that be, I wonder?"
"You'd have to ask them. Even if you and I are not to be friends, we needn't be enemies. We both want the same things."
"We do?"
"Indeed we do." He stared moodily out into the rain swept morning. "You want to save your Arianwyn. I – or rather, my master – doesn't want the Radiant to return. You want to save your people from another bloody war. My master wants to stop that same war. The motives may not be identical, but they align very nicely."
"So why aren't you out there, giving your master what he wants?"
"I told you, there's nothing I can do, at least directly. As you so politely point out, I don't have many friends, and fewer allies. You have both, if you only know where to find them."
I shook my head. "I don't have allies who can help me stop the serathi. Arianwyn might have been able to do it, but she's lost to me, at least for now."
"You might be surprised. Power lurks in the unlikeliest of places. Perhaps you've already seen the answer, and you just don't know it for what it is? Just like you don't see the darkness in your soul for what it is."
I leaned forward, my skin prickling with unease. "What do you mean?"
"You're a fallen, Edric, don't tell me that you think there's no price to that?" he asked. "I'd be willing to bet a fair sum that you've had more than a few flarings of temper since your return to the living realms, haven't you?"
"I have," I allowed. "Never as bad as the last one, though."
"They'll get worse." He shrugged. "They always do, it's the corruption of the natural order that provokes it."
"Constans told me fallen weren't inherently corrupt."
Morecet laughed. "The man's either recklessly overconfident, or stupid. Of course you're innately corrupt. You're a dead man in the living world. What could be less natural? You're a good fellow at heart, Edric, and you'll last longer than most, but it'll drag you down in the end."
I thought of the wretches I'd seen at Tarvallion and a dozen other places. Those fallen had been little more than beasts, mindlessly gorging themselves on the flesh of the slain – even of their own kind. That was to be my fate? It was more horrible than death, or drudgery.
"How long do I have?" I asked quietly.
He shrugged. "Days, possibly weeks. There's no easy answer. I'd avoid killing under its influence, if you can avoid doing so – and I'm not just saying that to preserve my own life."
"How do you know so much about this?"
Morecet shrugged again. "I've travelled far and seen much, and my master has taught me more in the time I've served him."
Again, the mention of this 'master'. Why was I even speaking to the servant, and not to the source of that servant's knowledge? "I'd like to speak with him, before I go."
Morecet shook his head. "He doesn't talk to strangers."
"You promised me help. You've barely delivered."
"My master doesn't like having his meditations disturbed."
He tried to rise. I grabbed his hand. "And I don't like living as a fallen, knowing that madness is all I can expect from the future. But like you said: the world isn't always what we would wish of it."
Morecet sighed. "Very well, I'll see if he's willing to meet." I let go, and he rose to his feet, and stared with distaste at the rain. "I might be some time, but please wait here until I return."
No sooner had Morecet departed when Elspeth slipped back in through the door. She was sopping wet, and had the defiant look of someone who knew she'd made a mistake but would go to any lengths to avoid admitting to it. Why she hadn't taken shelter in a different house, I couldn't imagine.
"You're not fond of the rain, then?" I asked.
"It grew boring," she said, her tone discouraging further discussion. "Why are we still here?"
"Morecet's arranging a meeting with his master. And it's raining."
"Of course he is," she said sarcastically. "Why do you trust him?"
That was a complicated question, so I asked one of my own instead. "Why don't you?"
"Pfff," Elspeth said unhelpfully, then collapsed heavily on one of the chairs. "There's something about him that's not quite right."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"That's the problem," she bit out. "I don't know what it means. What colour are your robes?"
"They're black."
"Can you explain how you know that?"
"No."
"Then don't be surprised if I can't explain everything that I know."
I supposed it made a baffling sort of sense. "Does he mean us harm?"
Elspeth sighed impatiently. "I've no idea."
Thunder rumbled. The rain redoubled its fury.
"At least we're not on the road." I moved to the window and peered outside. Elspeth didn't respond.
*******
Morecet returned some time later, his clothes soaked. "My master has thought long and hard, and will give you a very b
rief audience. You are to wait on the steps of the temple until a bell summons you."
"In this weather?" I asked, astonished.
Morecet shrugged. "He has an old man's eccentricities. I think he believes that suffering is good for the soul – at least in others – and it's not as if the cold can do you harm any longer, is it?"
"I suppose not," I conceded. I turned to Elspeth. "Coming?"
"Actually," Morecet put in before she could reply. "He will only see you. The rest of us are to remain out here."
Elspeth snorted, but didn't argue the point.
"Very well," I said, for what choice did I have? "I suppose I'll be back soon."
Five
I immediately regretted leaving the house. Even though it was only a little after noon, the sky was dark and oppressive, black with the storm roiling overhead. Pulling my hood up to stop the rainwater running down my neck, I crossed to the temple and stood, as bidden, on the stairway.
Long minutes later, I'd still heard no trace of a bell. Indeed, I'd heard nothing but the sound of the rain and rumble of thunder. Was this all an elaborate joke? I glanced back to the building I'd left, and saw Elspeth watching from a window. At first, her face showed a faint glimmer of concern, but then she realised I was looking at her, and that commonplace disdain flowed back into place.
Should I just go down into the temple? What harm could it do? For that matter, what if the bell had already chimed, and I'd not heard? I was still wrestling with these thoughts when a strident tolling began far above my head. I smiled my relief, and walked briskly up into the temple. There'd have been no chance of missing that sound. I suspected it could be heard for miles in any direction, even through the rain.
I came to a wide quadrangle, the tangled and overgrown mass of greenery at its centre open to the sky. There was no sign of Morecet's 'master', so I followed the covered walkway along the outside, and passed through the door at the base of the bell tower.
This was a much narrower space, extending perhaps sixty feet from the door. A stairway curled upwards directly in front of me, but I had eyes only for what lay at the chamber's far end: a thin wooden screen, behind which glowed dozens of candles and firestone lamps. Between the lamps and the screen, a man stood silhouetted.