Touched by the Gods

by Lawrence Watt-Evans

  The others stared at him in amazement; they were all far too exhausted to do more than trudge stolidly on, and they knew they were losing ground in their pursuit of the nightwalkers. In fact, with every mile more of the Imperial vanguard dropped behind and collapsed at the side of the road, too tired to take another step. Vadeviya, who had not fought at the river but had joined the pursuit, was the only one of them not on the verge of such a collapse, and even he was weary just from the hours of walking.

  “How does he do that?” Kiudegar asked, staring after Malledd.

  “I don't know,” Onnell said. “For years I thought I did, but I'm not sure any more.”

  Bousian glanced at Onnell, but said nothing; Darsmit coughed discreetly. He hadn't fallen for Malledd's distractions. He knew that Malledd was the divine champion, and Malledd's deferral to Duzon a mere ruse. All of them but Kiudegar knew it, really, or ought to; if Onnell chose to doubt it Darsmit wasn't going to argue, but he thought it foolish.

  At the head of the shrinking band of die-hards Lord Duzon rode on, waiting for his horse to die beneath him; he knew that he was driving the poor beast far too hard, and that she would almost certainly break down soon if he didn't allow her food, water, and a long rest.

  But he couldn't. The nightwalkers were already well ahead of them...

  “Lord Duzon!”

  Duzon blinked and started awake, realizing he'd been dozing in the saddle. He turned to find Malledd walking alongside.

  “What?” he asked, still fuddled.

  “My lord, we need to go faster!” Malledd said, his tone urgently pleading. “We need to catch up to the nightwalkers and destroy them! We need to send messengers, warn Seidabar!”

  “We'll catch them at dawn...” Duzon managed.

  “My lord, look up at the moons,” Malledd said. “The sun won't rise during Ba'el's Triad – or if it does, it will be dark. The sky should be rosy now, lord, and look at it – black as fired iron.”

  “Then we'll catch them on the fourth day!” Duzon insisted. “Look at us, Malledd – we're in no shape to fight them by night.”

  “But we have to, my lord – we can't let them reach Seidabar! At the very least, we need to warn the city, so they can prepare the defenses.”

  “Seidabar is at least six days from the river, Malledd,” Duzon replied angrily. “They won't even reach the outlying towns in a single triad!”

  “My lord, they have three days and four nights! They don't stop for the night. They don't stop for food, or water, or rest. They don't pause for anything, not for so much as a moment!”

  Duzon stared mazily down at Malledd for a moment, then looked to the west; he could make out a faint reddish glow on the horizon, miles away, a glow he knew from its color to be the wizard's staff.

  “Oh, gods preserve us,” he said despairingly. “You're right!” He turned to look at the ragtag remnants of an army marching in his wake. “We can't do it, though. Look at us! We can barely hobble onward, let alone fight.”

  “Someone has to fight, sir. If we can't, we must send a messenger to Seidabar.”

  Duzon shook his head. “Who could we send? None of the surviving New Magicians can stir so much as a flicker in their crystals; they used it all in the battle. No one on foot can possibly outrace that horde.”

  “What about old magicians, then?”

  “The priests?” Duzon blinked owlishly as he considered that. “Ours are dead – but there were still two in Drievabor, I believe.”

  “Then send someone back. They can still give Seidabar at least a day's warning.”

  Duzon nodded. “You're right. Someone they'll trust. That priest of yours, Vadeviya – we'll send him.”

  “Good,” Malledd said. “And the rest of us must do what we can to harry the foe from behind.”

  “What we can, yes,” Duzon said. “But don't expect it to be much, O chosen one – we're not as tireless as you.”

  Malledd's brows pulled down and his lips tightened angrily.

  “I'm still a man,” he said. “Not a god. As far as most of these people are concerned, my lord, you are the divine defender of the Domdur Empire, not I.”

  “Thereby demonstrating that popular belief is not certain truth,” Duzon retorted, growing angry in his turn. “We know the truth, you and I, and let us not pretend otherwise.”

  “Let us not confuse anyone unnecessarily, either,” Malledd said. “Please act like a champion, my lord – don't let them be disappointed.”

  “Don't you presume to order me, Malledd...” Duzon began. Then he stopped and looked at Malledd, startled.

  “You know, I never really thought about it,” he said. “Do you have any authority over me? Is that a part of the gods' gifts?”

  “You're a free man, my lord,” Malledd replied. “As am I. We both serve the Empress, and she's given you a commission as captain, not me. I don't think the gods come into it.”

  “Fine. Then do as you see fit, Malledd, and may the gods who favor you prove wiser than those you oppose. Send Vadeviya back to Drievabor, and then go on ahead, if you choose and you can. I'll lead these others as best I can, and do what I can to aid you – but I can't promise much.”

  Malledd nodded.

  “I understand,” he said. He turned and waited for Vadeviya.

  When the situation had been explained to the old priest's liking and the message delivered, Malledd turned westward again and trotted. He passed Lord Duzon and hurried on toward the nightwalkers.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  “She's dead,” Prince Graubris said. He reached down and touched his mother's eyelids, making sure they were closed, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. Her skin was already cool, so dry and lifeless it hardly felt like skin at all.

  “Her Imperial Majesty Beretris is dead,” the chief physician agreed.

  “The Empress is dead,” Lord Shoule proclaimed. “Long live the Emperor!”

  Graubris straightened up and looked around the room at a dozen frightened faces – maids, doctors, and attendants. Lord Shoule was the only Councillor present; Princess Darisei was asleep in a chair.

  “Wake my sister,” Graubris ordered. “Let her see.”

  One of the maids hurried to obey.

  Just then the door opened and Prince Zolous hurried in. Before he had taken a third step toward the bed he saw the expressions, saw his brother's face and posture.

  “Am I too late?” he said.

  “Yes,” Graubris said, as he pushed past Zolous toward the door.

  “Grau!” Zolous called after him. “I think you...”

  He didn't finish the sentence; Graubris had marched out with Lord Shoule close on his heel, and Shoule had closed the door behind them.

  Graubris had expected to find most of the Imperial Council in the antechamber, but the room was empty; startled, he stopped dead.

  The room was not only uninhabited, it was unusually dark – no candles or lamps burned, and the window provided little light. Coals glimmered orange in the fireplace, but there was no other illumination.

  “Where is everybody?” Graubris muttered. His eyes felt hot and edged with moisture, and he blinked; he was the Emperor now, he couldn't waste time weeping, not even for his mother. There were rebels to be stopped, and traitors to be exposed and executed.

  “I don't know, Majesty,” Shoule said. “They should be here...”

  “Shut up,” Graubris said. He heard voices somewhere ahead, and he headed toward them. Behind him he heard the bedroom door open, but he paid no attention. He was almost at the corridor door when Zolous called, “Grau! Wait!”

  “Why?” he demanded, turning. He ignored Lord Shoule.

  “Don't you think the three of us should present a united front to the Council?” Zolous asked.

  “Why?” Graubris repeated. “You say your farewells to Mother, and come along when you're ready – I don't think your presence is needed immediately.”

  “Grau, have you looked out a window lately?”

 
The bedchamber's windows had been thoroughly hidden by thick velvet drapes. Graubris threw a quick glance at the antechamber window and said, “Yes.” Then he turned and marched out, Shoule just a step behind.

  Zolous hesitated, then shrugged and returned to the bedchamber. As his brother had said, he and Darisei had farewells to make.

  Graubris burst into the parlor without warning and found a dozen or so men and women clustered by the great curving windows, all of them seemingly talking loudly at once. He recognized them immediately – this was most of the Imperial Council, gathered here, debating something as usual.

  “My mother is dead,” he announced without preamble. He had intended to say something more formal, more dignified, but the words burst out.

  A dozen shocked faces turned toward him, and the conversation died away.

  “My condolences, your Highness,” Prince Granzer said after a few seconds of silence. “We all loved her as our Empress, and I as my wife's mother, but to you she was more than that, and your loss that much greater.”

  Graubris frowned. Granzer had addressed him as “Highness,” rather than “Majesty.” Perhaps technically that was acceptable, since he had not yet been crowned, but it seemed to lack the proper deference. Shoule had called him “Majesty.”

  “If you wish to pay your last respects, I... we will allow it,” Graubris said.

  Granzer hesitated, and the others exchanged uneasy glances.

  “Your Highness, I fear we may have more urgent matters to attend to just now,” Granzer said.

  “What could possibly be more urgent?” Graubris demanded. “Are the rebels at the city gates?”

  “Not yet,” Lord Graush replied.

  “Haven't you looked at the sky?” Lady Luzla asked.

  “Or at the streets?” Lord Dabos added.

  Graubris stared at them, baffled.

  “I have been where I belonged,” he said. “At my mother's side.”

  “If I may, your Highness,” Lord Sulibai said, with a sweep of one very full maroon silk sleeve, “I would suggest you take a look.” He stepped aside, opening a path to the window.

  Puzzled, Graubris stepped forward and peered out at the night, Shoule at his shoulder.

  Odd, he had thought it was almost dawn, but the sky was still very dark indeed. He could see no moons – perhaps a heavy overcast...

  But the stars were clear and bright.

  They had said to look at the sky, and he looked, and saw, but did not understand what he saw. This was beyond him just now, after the long vigil at his mother's deathbed; he shook his head.

  The streets, then – he looked down at the plaza and the streets beyond.

  There were mobs in the streets, a mob in the plaza – he could see the paleness of upturned faces as hundreds of citizens stared up at the skies, and at the tower in which he stood.

  Why were so many people out before the sun was up?

  “What's going on?” he asked. “Why are so many people out at this hour?”

  “It's half an hour past dawn, your Highness,” Lady Mirashan said quietly.

  Graubris' head jerked up, and he stared eastward.

  There was no light on the horizon.

  “Nonsense,” he said.

  “I'm afraid not,” Granzer said.

  “Then where's the sun?” Graubris demanded, pointing at the glass.

  “That's what we'd like to know,” Graush replied.

  “That's what they would like to know,” added Sulibai, pointing at the crowd in the plaza below.

  “Your Majesty,” Shoule suggested, “surely the gods themselves are mourning your mother's death.”

  “The crowds might believe that,” Dabos said. “If you announce it properly.”

  “But you don't?” Graubris said, turning to face Dabos.

  “No, your Highness, I'm afraid I don't. No reports survive of any such phenomena at the death of any previous monarch. Rather, I believe this to be black magic, performed to aid the rebels in their march toward Seidabar.”

  Graubris turned quickly to Shoule.

  “It could be, your Majesty,” Shoule said. “But surely we need not worry; we have our walls, and our army. If the people hear their new emperor speak, if you reassure them, I'm sure you can rally them to the city's defense...”

  “More likely panic them completely,” Graush interrupted.

  Graubris whirled to face Graush, and Shoule barked, “Show the Emperor the proper respect, my lord!”

  “That's another thing,” Granzer said. “There remains the question of just who is to be Emperor.”

  “What?” Graubris stared at his brother-in-law in disbelief. “My mother named me her heir!”

  “But ancient law, your Highness, gives the Council the power to name the heir,” Lord Passeil said. “We are to bow to the gods' will, but in the present case they have failed to make their will plain, and we are forced to rely on our own capabilities. In that regard...”

  “Some of you disagree,” Graubris said. He glared at Granzer. “Some of you want my sister to become Empress.”

  Passeil threw Granzer a quick glance. “No,” he said. “Your brother.”

  As if on cue, Prince Zolous and Princess Darisei stepped into the room.

  “My brother?” Graubris turned to stare at Zolous. “Zol, you knew about this?”

  “Just an hour ago,” Zolous replied. “I tried to talk to you just now, but you wouldn't wait.”

  “This is treason!” Shoule proclaimed loudly. “Treason, I tell you! Beretris named Graubris her heir!”

  “Shut up, Shoule,” Graubris said. He looked around at the Councillors. “Just who supports whom, my lords and ladies?”

  Granzer shrugged and said, “We can make that plain enough.” He crossed the room to stand by Zolous' left hand, while Darisei stood by his right.

  “Dari,” Graubris said, “shouldn't you choose your own spot? Surely you have your supporters here!”

  Darisei shook her head. “This is no time to be foolish or selfish, Grau – ”

  “I insist!” Graubris said, cutting her off.

  Darisei sighed, and stepped over to one side.

  “Now, my lords and ladies,” Graubris said, “if you would all be so kind as to accompany the candidate of your choice, perhaps we can settle this matter once and for all! I trust, dear brother and brother-in-law, that you will abide by the majority's decision?”

  “Of course,” Granzer said. Zolous nodded.

  Gradually, the others began to move.

  Shoule crowded up close by Graubris' side. Granzer stayed where he was, but watched his wife's face.

  Passeil crossed the room to join Zolous and Granzer; Niniam and Graush came close behind. After a brief hesitation, Sulibai, Dabos, and Luzla followed.

  Vamia started toward Darisei, then paused, looking over the two groups. With a shrug, she joined the party by the door, gathered around Zolous.

  Shoule, Orbalir, Apiris, Mirashan, and Dalbisha stayed clustered around Graubris. He looked around and realized that his group was the smaller.

  “This isn't everyone,” he said. “Who's missing?”

  “Lady Zurni is on her estates,” Sulibai said. “Lord Gornir is at sea, on his way to Greya to supervise the restoration of order in the east.”

  “Kadan,” Shoule said. “Where's Kadan?”

  “Lord Kadan is commanding our army on the eastern plain, at my order,” Granzer said.

  “The army?” Graubris said. “The army's in Agabdal.”

  “I'm afraid not,” Passeil said. “Lord Kadan departed yesterday morning.”

  “What?” Graubris turned to stare out the window. “Then who will defend Seidabar?”

  “I hope,” Granzer said drily, “that no defense of the city will be necessary. That was rather the point of raising an army in the first place, your Highness.”

  Graubris looked at Shoule, who said, “We must evacuate the city, your Majesty. The enemy approaches.”

  “I don't thi
nk so,” Zolous said, stepping forward. “We can't give up Seidabar. To do so would be to give up the Empire, Grau.”

  “Oh, and you're not ready to do that, now that you think you have it?” Graubris snapped. “Well, you can rot here, Zol – the Domdur Emperor is the heart of the Domdur Empire, not a bunch of stone and iron, and I intend to be that Emperor, and to survive the worst this Olnamian wizard can do to us!”

  “Should we not first be sure the wizard has not already been defeated?” Zolous asked. “We haven't had any word for a few days now.” He turned and looked at his little band of supporters. “Lady Luzla, could you see that the Imperial College sends a messenger immediately? I realize that the darkness will slow them, but surely they can manage something!”

  “At once, Majesty,” Luzla said, with a bow. She turned and hurried out.

  Graubris stared after her. She had called Zolous “Majesty.” These upstarts were serious about this!

  “Majesty,” Shoule whispered, “this wizard has put out the sun! Can you really think that anything we could do will stop him? We must flee the city at once! Perhaps when he finds your mother dead, he will be satisfied with killing your brother, and you can return from exile in triumph once the gods have restored balance to the world.”

  “You're right,” Graubris said aloud. He announced, “I am leaving this place, and I strongly advise you all to abandon this treasonous attempt to elevate my brother, and to accompany me. I hereby declare the Imperial Council dissolved!”

  Even his supporters stared at him then.

  “You... you're dissolving the Council?” Dalbisha asked.

  Graubris did not bother arguing; he pushed Granzer and Zolous aside and stamped out of the parlor toward the stairs, his entourage trailing after him – four Councillors. Dalbisha stayed where she was, standing in front of the windows, leaning heavily on her cane.

  The others watched Graubris go in silence. Then Darisei asked, “Now what?”

  “Now we see about preparing the city's defenses,” Zolous said. “I hope we won't need them, but Lord Kadan cannot have gotten very far in a single day. If this unnatural darkness does indeed mean that the wizard and his nightwalkers are on the move, then it's possible the army might be driven back, or bypassed, and we must be ready for that possibility.”