M A R Barker - [Tekumel- The Empire of the Petal Throne 01]

by Flamesong (v0. 9) (epub)

  “I think they were developed before the Ancients knew how to exploit the energies of the Planes Beyond. And, as I said: they are stronger in their one limited effect than most spells. Moreover, they can be employed by anyone: a child, a fool, a person with no ability or Pedhetl at all!”

  “How ignoble,” Trinesh mused. “To deprive the sorcerer of his uniqueness, to put magic within the reach of any idiot who acquires a device! I myself have pushed the stud of an ‘Eye,’ and it gave me no sense of accomplishment or dignity thereby. If swordsmanship were like an ‘Eye,’ then any herd-boy would be the equal of mighty Hrugga himself! Fa!” “The scholars concur. They wag their beards and shake their wise heads; yet it is clearly easier to fire an ‘Eye’ than to master the arcane lore of sorcery. Don’t you see?”

  Trinesh did. He was also reminded to look for their foes and so put his head up above their coral refuge. At this distance, he could not distinguish what rested upon the leftmost table, but Arjasu ought to be in a position to see that. On the other side of the jagged vertebrae of the ridge before which the three tables stood he noted something else: a row of golden helices upon pedestals, involuted three-dimensional patterns of what appeared to be metal rods. As he watched, these revolved slowly, caught the light as they swung this way and that, and turned themselves inside out in eye-hurting optica! illusions of lines and spaces.

  He opened his mouth to make these new mysteries known to Tse’e, but he was interrupted. A voice, feminine and weak-sounding, called something in Yan Koryani from behind them.

  Flamesong!

  No, it was now the Lady Jai Chasa Vedlan. She came picking her way down the central path, a naked, pretty, and very human clan-girl who stumbled over the sand like some tipsy handmaiden at a Jakallan orgy! She was clearly near collapse.

  An answering shout came from in front of him, and he swung back to see one of the Mihalli emerge around the end of the jag-toothed wall of blue-white bones—or coral, or whatever it was. The creature went to her, gathered her in its oddly jointed arms, and bore her to the open area before the work-tables. Whether this was Aluja or the erstwhile harper from Prince Mirusiya’s chambers he could not say.

  The boy, Ridek, came forth as well. Then the Lady Deq Dimani followed, leaning upon the arm of the second Mihalli. She gestured, and the boy took up a garment—a russet work-smock or tunic—from the left-most table and went to drape it about the girl’s shoulders. The older woman limped over and embraced her, as Trinesh had seen her do in the Ochuna. She drew the Lady Jai down, stroked her hair, and murmured to her in Yan Koryani. The girl appeared dazed, sick, and confused, and her body shook with weeping.

  Did Flamesong debilitate its bearer—eventually destroy the feeble, mortal “hilt” with which it must be wielded in this Plane? Or was her weakness due to the “Eye” Trinesh himself had fired at her?

  Trinesh felt a pang of sadness: not for Flamesong, certainly, nor for the suffering of the Lady Deq Dimani. He was sorry for Jai Chasa Vedlan. It was as she herself had said: under other circumstances she might have loved him—as he assuredly could have loved her in return.

  Fingers clawed at his arm. Tse’e hissed, “Flat! Someone else comes!” He jerked Trinesh down so violently that he bit into powdery, brine-tasting sand.

  Footsteps crunched along the central path and stopped perhaps ten paces away. Trinesh dared not raise his head to see. He and Tse’e ought to be near-invisible lying prone behind their giant A^ao-squash of coral.

  He heard a shout and then a garble of unintelligible Yan Koryani. One of the newcomers was a woman, another a man. The boy, Ridek, cried something; the man replied in a sharp, staccato voice almost as high; the woman added a word or two in a rich contralto different in pitch and intonation from the others; then one of the Mihalli spoke at length. These people knew one another! Presumably they were explaining how they came to be in this bubble-chamber beneath the sea. The conversation went on and on.

  Trinesh could stand it no longer. He ventured a look.

  And found himself staring at the glinting point of a steel sword not a hand’s breadth from his nose.

  He let out a wordless yell and fell backwards over Tse’e.

  There was shouting. Tse'e’s sword was knocked from his grasp, and he could only flail and kick at his attacker. Hands pulled him roughly to his feet, and he felt the ice-keen edge of a blade at his throat.

  He stopped struggling.

  A slender, clever-eyed, smallish man in a loose, brown tunic and leather boots stood before him, disheveled and panting. Beside him, two paces away upon the sand, Tse’e knelt clutching at his abdomen. Trinesh could see no blood. One of the Mihalli ran light-footed over to menace them with a claw-bladed cutlass from the table. Over his shoulder Trinesh glimpsed a feminine face, harsh but exotically beautiful, light-complected, straight-nosed, and proud. This, then, was the woman who had crept up to ambush them. Her lips were drawn back in a grimace, and the dagger she held had a businesslike sheen to it.

  A vision of Horusel threatening the Lady Deq Dimani in just this fashion in the tube way car rose to mind. That seemed so long ago! He sighed and held his hands out from his sides in surrender, as she had done then.

  Where was the Lady Deq Dimani? He sought and found her still slumped beside the Lady Jai, one hand pressed to the bandage the blind seeress had applied to her face.

  Was she pleased at this turnabout? He could not discern her expression. Nor Jai’s.

  The woman with the knife stepped around him, and he saw that she wore a belt of animal hide with the fur still attached, leather leggings, and, incongruously, a Yan Koryani overblouse and fringed skirt of silky Giidru-cloth. Her hair was caught up in a net of lacquered leather cords.

  What sort of odd, tribal war-witch was this? He knew so little of the peoples of the Baron’s realm.

  The man snarled something in Yan Koryani that sounded both harsh and commanding.

  The Lady Deq Dimani raised her head. “He is Tsolyani, my Lord. Use that tongue, and likely he’ll answer you.”

  The other raised an eyebrow. “Tsolyani? He followed you through Gireda’s Nexus Point?”

  The Mihalli before him held out what looked like a shapeless chunk of grass-green stone and growled something in Yan Koryani. This must be Gireda; Trinesh was beginning to recognize the slight individual differences between him and Aluja.

  “Ah. A symbol of High Cartography depicting Yan Kor.” The brown-clad man waggled his fingers in a beckoning gesture, and the creature laid the rock upon his palm. “An old one, made back before the Tsolyani Emperors lost the north. It shows the long tunnel from the Citadel of Ke’er down to the sea but not this chamber. That was not built then.” He gave Trinesh a harder look. “Engsvanyali armor. You must be the hero of Ridek’s tale.”

  “1 am Trinesh hiKetkolel, of the Red Mountain clan, Hereksa of the Legion of the Storm of Fire.”

  “Cha! Such punctilio! Aluja says that you possess a most useful ‘Eye.’ May 1 have it, please?”

  “You fail in courtesy, Sir. You are?”

  The other pursed thin lips. “I? I am Lord Fu Shi’i, the Baron’s adviser, and this gentle maiden is the Lady Si Ziris Qaya, matriarch and chieftainess of the Lorun tribes of the north. The ‘Eye,’ young man!”

  “It—is—was lost at Kankara. I dropped it.” Lying to an avowed enemy was not ignoble.

  Lord Fu Shi’i adopted a sorrowful look, but the woman smiled, reminiscent of a fanged Zrne about to receive its dinner. She was tall, broad-shouldered, and obviously skilled with either the dagger or the long sword that hung from her baldric.

  The little man frowned, drew a diagram in the air, and muttered words. Trinesh discovered that he could no longer move or speak. Even in distant Tumissa folk had spoken of Lord Fu Shi’i; the Baron’s chief counselor was said to be a most puissant wizard, but no one had come close to the reality of it! The spell had seemed effortless, as casual as drawing breath!

  “Search him. And the old Milumanayani—�
�� The Lady Deq Dimani murmured, and Lord Fu Shi’i’s eyebrows rose still higher. “A Prince? Nalukkan hiTlakotani? I knew him once.” He examined Tse’e again. “Ohe. My memory grows dim over the years. You are indeed he, the bane of the Vriddi, the butcher of Fasiltum! The Lady Deq Dimani may have more to say to you later.”

  They would be kept, then, for ransom or sacrifice. He was not sure which of those two unhappy denouements he himself would choose when the time came, but there would be opportunity enough to think upon it in the prison to which he and Tse’e would likely be sent. At least death upon a Yan Koryani altar was not shameful, unlike the impaling stake at Pu’er!

  That reminded him of something: where were Aijasu and Chosun? He was facing the wrong direction to see their presumed hiding place, but they must be out there somewhere! Lord Fu Shi’i’s prowling warrior-woman had found him and Tse’e easily enough—la, like two sand-clams basking at their ease in the sun! —yet she had missed the others.

  Could their comrades rescue them?

  He doubted it. The most he dared hope was that his two soldiers might avoid capture. If they could reach the Nexus Point, they were safe and could report to Prince Mirusiya. But was the portal still open? Probably not: after all, Lord Fu Shi’i and this Lorun wench had come down by that passage, had they not? The mage would surely have dealt with any Other-Planar doorways encountered en route.

  The wora^n ran her hands over them, efficiently and rudely. She shook her red-glinting black locks.

  “Naught. Let me slay them. Why waste the Baron’s time? He will only worry.” She spoke Tsolyani slowly and contemptuously, as though she wanted Trinesh and Tse’e to appreciate their melancholy Skeins to the utmost.

  Lord Fu Shi’i stood close beside her. “I know you, my Lady,” he replied in a voice low enough to be inaudible to the other Yan Koryani behind him. “You would slay this pair. Then you would dispatch the boy and the Lady Deq Dimani as well. You would have me slay Flamesong—or dispel her to her own Plane. Thereafter the Lady Mmir dies, and you, my Lady, become the successor to Aid’s lost Yilrana in all things: in the Baron’s bedchamber, in his heart, in the councils of his generals, and among the clans of Yan Kor. A Lorun triumph—and a Skein as transparent and blood-scarlet as a goblet of Mu’ugalavyani red glass!”

  She licked her full lower lip. “You have said that you work better with Sihan than with this Thargir warrior-pup,

  Ridek. You have filled Sihan’s soul with cruelties and terrors, the better to knead him upon your potter’s wheel! Now is the time to use that clay! The Baron has already ordained forty days of mourning for his lost son; why compel him to cancel such poignant commemorations?”

  “So the boy stays dead. I was right, then. La! Let no one accuse the Lorun of fidelity: you are as duplicitous as the Pygmy Folk!” Lord Fu Shi’i stroked his chin and chuckled. “Thereafter Yan Kor soon rejoices in a new princeling, eh? A child by you, the Baron’s wife—no longer ‘the Princess of the North’ but its queen.”

  If Lord Fu Shi’i accepted the woman’s proposal, there would be no ransom or honorable sacrifice for Trinesh and Tse’e. They would die here in this secret workroom beneath the sea.

  “Your Mihalli are slaves to you alone, my Lord. They cannot tell, nor even hint at, what transpires here unless you give them leave. A nice tapestry, a credit to the Weaver of Skeins, as these southerners say. We Lorun blame our destinies upon other gods.”

  “The deities of your Cold White Land? Were-beasts, faceless monsters, the archetypes of your savage shamans?” “Better than those who live beyond the northern ice, on the other side of Tekumel: those things whom you serve, my Lord! Those who would see Yan Kor, Tsolyanu, and all the rest of humankind go howling down to dance before the Lord of Death!”

  Lord Fu Shi’i returned her only a bland and pleasant smile. “I agree to your plan. Do as you would.”

  The Lady Si Ziris Qaya said, “So. First we shall have a look at this Tsolyani soldier’s innards!” She raised the dagger, and Trinesh could make no move to thwart her.

  There was movement. He heard, rather than saw, Chosun’s lumbering, Chlen-beast charge across the cavern. Arjasu was there too, the “Eye” clenched in both fists, pausing to aim and fire, then zigzagging forward after the Tirrikamu. The weapons piled on the right-hand table were their goal.

  The Lorun woman whirled, her dagger in her left hand in lieu of a shield and her sword already out and ready. Tse’e suddenly erupted into action; Lord Fu Shi'i’s spell had either missed him or had been ineffectual. He swarmed over the woman from behind, and she staggered, yet did not fall. The Mihalli, Gireda, dropped his cutlass and flourished his blue ball, seeking a target. The boy, the two women, and Aluja were on their feet as well. Lord Fu Shi’i grunted in surprise but seemed unafraid. He stood back, shook himself to settle his tunic upon his shoulders, and wove a spell-pattem with nimble fingers.

  Only Trinesh was compelled to stand immobile, a piece of decorative statuary, while his companions fought for their lives! He strained each muscle in turn and was rewarded with a tingling sensation in his fingers and toes.

  The spell was dissipating!

  Chosun reached the right-hand table, snatched up a huge mace that bristled with steel thorns, and hurled it at the Lorun woman. She dodged, but Tse’e’s weight and flailing limbs dragged her almost to her knees. She slashed down beside her thigh with her dagger, and the old man fell away, red staining the mottled brown of his desert-cloak. Chosun wasted no time but selected another weapon from the table, a thick chopper, very like the axe-sword of the reptilian Shen or the Chidok the Livyani preferred. He advanced to do battle.

  Trinesh had unbalanced himself in his struggle. Slowly, majestically, he toppled forward to mash his nose in the sand and lie supine almost beneath Lord Fu Shi’i’s polished black boots. He heard shouting, the clamor of melee, the clash of Chosun’s heavy weapon against the Lorun girl’s lighter blade, and the shuffle of feet as the combatants feinted for advantage. Here he had a nobleman’s seat at the arena and yet could not see the gladiators!

  In fact, the reek of brine and gritty sand in his face gave warning that he would soon suffocate unless he could rid himself of this accursed spell! He increased his efforts.

  From directly above him Lord Fu Shi’i cried out, more a wail of anguish than a scream of pain. Trinesh could not see the cause. He guessed that Arjasu’s “Eye” had done something, though he had no idea what. He gasped and discovered that he could open his mouth—which promptly filled with sand. More usefully, he was able to roll over.

  He sat up.

  Lord Fu Shi’i stood over him, eyes wide and staring as he sketched invisible runes in the air. Had the crossbowman missed, or was the mage immune to the “Eye”? Trinesh had no way of knowing, but he knew how dangerous the Baron’s adviser was reputed to be. He cast about for a weapon, saw nothing, and struggled with limbs that were as heavy as waterlogged wood. Cha! He still could not stand up!

  He crawled over and butted Lord Fu Shi’i from behind with his helmet-crest.

  It was enough; the sorcerer yelped and whirled upon him, enraged. At least the incantation had been disrupted!

  Now Trinesh perceived the hilt of Tse’e’s sword protruding from the sand a pace to his left. He stretched out a hand and scrabbled for it. He need not have bothered: Lord Fu Shi’i took note of Trinesh’ determined face and scuttled off to a safer distance.

  Trinesh assessed the situation. Chosun and the Lorun woman were locked in melee, sweat-glazed and streaked with sand as they battled to and fro. Directly in front of him the Lady Deq Dimani had risen, dragging the Lady Jai up as well. She waved her good arm and cried words at the girl. Aluja crouched beside them, one restraining hand on Ridek’s arm.

  Trinesh arose upon legs as stiff as Tiu-logs. Lord Fu Shi’i stood poised for flight, but Arjasu blocked his path, the “Eye” still aimed at him.

  Trinesh was directly in the line of fire.

  His limbs were brittle crystal; he cou
ld not even dive for cover. The glassy iris of the device winked at him like some evil, one-eyed beast, and his stomach congealed. He was as good as dead!

  Trinesh saw Arjasu’s thumb tighten once, twice, upon the stud.

  There was no effect!

  He still lived! Indeed, he was amazed to discover that he felt better than ever!

  Lord Fu Shi’i howled again.

  Gireda, the Mihalli with the blue-glowing sphere, appeared at the edge of his vision. Aluja gesticulated and cried something in their lilting, warbling, nonhuman tongue, and the creature halted, his weapon half raised.

  Trinesh lifted Tse’e’s sword to meet him. Astonished, he watched Gireda point his weapon not at Arjasu nor at Trinesh himself, but at the Lorun woman! Its beam of twinkling, pearl-blue radiance struck her like a bolt from a ballista. She threw up her hands, and her sword spun free; then she stumbled back to crumple in a rag-doll heap beside the central table. Chosun lowered his blade to gape at the Mihalli.

  “Tsolyani! Tsolyani!” Gireda cried shrilly. “Not me—-not Fu Shi’i!” The creature addressed Aijasu and not Trinesh. “Behind us—those devices! Those golden whorl-things!”

  The crossbowman faltered, confused.

  “The Gayu, Tsolyani! Free us!”