by William King
“You think this land is some sort of prison?”
“There are certain old grimoires that hint as much.”
“Go on.”
“Some say this land is a massive gateway to the Realms of Shadow, that armies of demons lie in wait beneath the crust of reality to emerge and work evil. They say it is from this place that the Shadow first entered the world, before the coming of Men. That is why the Holy Cities were built here—they are watchtowers against another onslaught by the Shadow.”
“There are regions where such things happen,” Kormak said. “But I have never encountered one so huge.”
“But you have visited such places?”
Kormak nodded.
“We really should talk you and I. There are many things I would question you about.”
“Would that I had the time, Prince.” Luther nodded affably at this refusal. He did not seem at all troubled by the response.
“It is a strange thought, is it not, that the earth upon which we walk may have the legions of Shadow beneath it?”
“It is a disturbing thought.”
“This can be a disturbing land.”
“But one that can inspire a poet,” Kormak said. “If his imagination ran in certain directions.”
“I hear a hint of the Inquisition in your voice, Sir Kormak, the trace of fanatical disapproval.”
“It was an observation, that was all.”
“I have noticed that certain of your observations sound like threats.”
“I would say that perception lay within the mind of the listener. In this case, at least.”
“You debate like a priest, sir.”
“I was taught by them,” Kormak admitted.
“That in no way surprises me,” said the Prince. He shaded his eyes with his hand and stared off into the distance. “I think we shall be in time,” he said.
The city came ever closer. Kormak could see that many buildings lay outside the huge walls and were dwarfed by them. It was often the case in this world he had found. Cities outgrew their ancient defences. In the west there were places where the walls marked the age of certain parts of cities the way the rings of a tree did.
There was no real boundary between the desert and the outer city. At first they merely rode between isolated white-washed mud-brick houses, which became more and more common until they were ragged, half-empty streets and then densely packed ones. People went from being relatively rare on the outskirts to swarming crowds as they got closer to the walls.
Soon they were surrounded by hawkers and water-sellers and jugglers and clowns. Beggars and thieves moved closer as well. About half of the folk were dressed in western style tunics and britches made from light linen fabrics. The others, darker skinned, were garbed in flowing robes of the Desert Tribes. The men in britches tended to wear the Sign of the Sun and walk proudly and aggressively. The desert men wore Lunar symbols and spoke softly.
Prince Luther nodded to one of his men, the same one as had given the package to the hermit and the man produced a purse and tossed a shower of small coins into the crowd. People scrambled to pick them up as the Prince rode through.
Ahead of them a gate surmounted by an Elder Sign loomed ten spans high. It had huge valves of bronze. Armoured men stood on either side. Prince Luther studied the sky. It was starting to get dark. “Good,” he said. “The North Gate is still open. There will be no need to spend time in some Low City Tavern and wait for the dawn.”
“I regret I must take my leave of you, Prince,” said Kormak. “And seek a bed for the night.”
“It would do me great honour if you accepted my hospitality, Guardian. You will lose no time or money and more importantly you will not get your throat slit in some low dive. It does happen here.”
“Men have tried to cut my throat before, Prince. I am still here.”
“I have a library containing many volumes that might interest you. I have scrolls concerning the Ghul and their city in which you might find knowledge valuable on your quest. I have maps too. I am quite the collector in my way.”
Kormak glanced at him sidelong. In that moment he was reminded a little of Lord Tomas who had freed Razhak originally. Luther had a similar intensity. Still the things he offered might prove useful. “That would indeed be useful.”
“Then it is settled. You will accompany me to my mansion and you can consult with my library and I will avail myself of the opportunity to pick your brain of knowledge and bore you with displays of my own erudition.”
“Very well, Prince Luther, I accept your offer. For this night alone.”
“Capital.” They rode through the North Gate. It was like riding into a tunnel, dark and shadowy. It was full of men with donkeys and camels and carts all trying to get passed the guards. Prince Luther was obviously recognised for he was waved through as were all those with him.
The streets of the Old City were very different from those of the new. They were laid out in perfectly straight lines and all of the buildings showed a similarity of architecture, a symmetry of proportion, that marked them as having been built at the same time, in a different age of the world.
“Laid out according to the geomantic principles of the ancient Solari,” said Luther, when he noticed Kormak’s glance. “They built this city in the First Age of Men when the power of the Empire was at its height.”
All of the streets led to a gigantic citadel whose single central tower rose like a spear aimed at the sky. At first glance the buildings were as impressive as all the work of the ancients but when he looked closer he could see everything had been repaired in a patchwork fashion, that many of the mansions were crumbling, that smaller buildings and newer had sprung up between the older ones.
“The city was not always in the hands of the Sunlanders,” Luther said. Once again it was as if he was reading Kormak’s thoughts. “There were centuries of neglect while the Seleneans held Sunhaven. They did so until the Oathsworn reclaimed the Tower of the Sun. Some say it is only a matter of time before they do again. Our hold on this land is still quite precarious. Without aid from the West we can hold out for a generation at most.”
“The Kingdoms of the West have their own problems,” Kormak said. “They are not united as they were in the Time of the Oathswearing.”
“The same problem could be said to exist here,” the Prince said. “There are those who think we should come to an accommodation with the moon-worshippers. Others think we should withdraw before we are over-run.”
“What do you think?” Kormak asked.
“I believe it is inevitable that the city will fall back into the hands of the Seleneans. This is an isolated pocket of Solar worship now. We are surrounded on all sides by lands that are either debated or have been swamped by the moondogs.”
They rode into a wide avenue of walled mansions, all with a clear view of the tower. It was clear they had been spotted for servants were already opening the gates of Prince Luther’s mansion while guards watched from the flanking towers. As they rode into the courtyard it occurred to Kormak that every wealthy man’s house in the city must be a small self-contained fortress.
Now he was trapped within one.
A fountain stood in the courtyard. Solar angels held great amphora above their heads and from them poured water. Orange trees stood in small enclosed walled gardens. Servants came forward to take the horses. Kormak allowed his to be led to the stable.
A majordomo advanced on Prince Luther, bowed and presented him with some scrolls. The Prince broke their seals casually and read them as they walked into the cool interior of the building. A halo of servants trailed them as well as the two bodyguards who had disbursed the Prince’s money to the crowd. The rest of them seemed to have taken entry into the house as a signal that they were dismissed. Clearly there was a routine to this place and everyone knew their part in it.
Luther strolled through corridors lined with beautiful statues and entered a low courtyard opened to the sky. There was seating all aroun
d it. On a chair at its edge, a woman sat, reading a book.
“Sister,” Luther said. “We have a guest.”
The woman looked up and assessed Kormak with a cool gaze. There was a definite family resemblance to the Prince. They had the same dark curly hair, very white teeth and compelling dark eyes. She was very lovely. She put the book down on the table beside her, after marking her place with a silk ribbon.
She rose and made a courtly curtsey. Kormak responded with a formal bow. She placed her hand over her heart. “Welcome to our home, Guardian of the Dawn.”
“Olivia is the scholar of the family,” Luther said. “She has studied art, philosophy, history and alchemy. She understood the significance of the way you wear your blade as soon as she saw it.”
“You are a long way from Mount Aethelas,” the woman said.
“Sir Kormak is on a quest. He hunts a demon.”
“There are no shortage of those in the Wastes beyond the Holy Road.”
“He hunts one in particular, a Ghul.”
“I thought those were all gone from the world. Imprisoned by Solareon or exterminated by your Order, Sir Guardian.”
“There is one left,” Kormak said. He felt like he was interrupting a conversation between these two. Prince Luther seemed happy to answer any questions his sister addressed to Kormak.
“But not for long if Sir Kormak has his way,” Luther said. The woman sank back into her chair and with a graceful gesture indicated they should join her. She rang a bell, three times, with a particular rhythm. It must have been an accepted signal for in a short time a servant girl arrived with a silver tray containing apple tea for three. It was very sweet. Prince Luther added honey.
“How did you encounter, my brother, Sir Kormak?”
“He was talking to our father,” said Luther before Kormak could reply. Kormak studied the Prince and his sister. He was trying to recall the old hermit’s features. It was possible that there was a family resemblance there.
“I can see you have baffled the Guardian.”
“The hermit is really your father?” Kormak said. “I thought you used the expression merely as a sign of respect.”
“No! Our father has foresworn the world and its guilty pleasures. He has renounced all his estates and worldly goods and mistresses in favour of my sister and myself. He seeks to save his soul and redeem his sins.”
“He has many sins to atone for,” said Olivia. Luther shot her a warning glance. She shook her head almost imperceptibly as if she was telling her brother she would not be silenced.
“Our father was a famously wicked man, Sir Kormak,” she said. “He studied for the priesthood when he was young and then abandoned the path when his elder brother died and he inherited the estate. It is said he broke all of his priestly vows in a single night that they still talk about down in the Street of Seven Pleasures.”
“I have heard of novices who did the same,” Kormak said.
“From your own order?” Luther sounded curious.
“My order does not ask men to foreswear pleasures of the flesh.”
“Save for one,” Olivia said. “You may not marry.”
“That hardly means foreswearing women, sister. You are not so innocent!”
Olivia smiled. She did not look embarrassed. She considered Kormak in a measuring way and then looked back at her brother.
“Father insists on his folly then,” Olivia said. “He will not return and let us care for him.”
“It is hardly folly to embrace godliness,” Luther said.
“Is that what he is doing?” Olivia said. “I thought this was just a new form of egotism. He is enjoying the drama of renunciation. Once he is bored with it, he will return. Be certain of it.”
“My sister is a cynic, Sir Kormak,” said Luther. She inclined her head. Kormak decided it was not just the father who enjoyed drama in this family. They seemed happy to have an audience to play out their discussion in front of. He started to get the sense that for all the fact that they lived in the city these might be people isolated from normal society. Thinking of the bluff warriors he had encountered since he came to this land, Kormak had some idea how that might come about.
“She simply knows her father too well,” said Olivia.
“I admit to the possibility of that,” said Luther. The shadows were starting to lengthen. Servants appeared with lamps. They burned perfumed oil, not tallow. There was no shortage of money in the house.
“Tell me of your quest, Sir Kormak,” said Olivia. “It has been centuries since any man has encountered a Ghul. They were rare even in these demon-haunted parts in this age of the world.”
“That is strange is it not,” said Kormak. “Tanyth was once their city.”
“They ruled this land in the days between when they rebelled against the Old Ones and the coming of the Solarians,” said Olivia. “The First Empire broke them, destroyed Tanyth. The Emperor Solareon imprisoned the Ghul in punishment for their evil. Those who could fled from his wrath and were scattered over the world. Presumably there must have been some who were not in the city at all. There is considerable speculation on the subject among the ancient scholars.”
“Razhak was in the city. He was imprisoned by Solareon. I handled the flask in which he was bound myself.”
“Razhak,” she said. “That is an evil name. He was a mighty wizard among the Ghul or so the old books claim.”
“I can believe that. I saw as much in his mind when he tried to possess me.”
The girl shuddered. Prince Luther looked quizzical. He tilted his head to one side. “Tried to possess you?”
“He failed,” Kormak said, his tone making it clear he had no wish to discuss the matter further.
“And still you pursue the creature,” said Olivia.
“I have followed this demon a long way. He has eluded me so far but soon the chase will end.”
“How can you know that?” Luther asked.
“He is weakened and must return to Tanyth to use the great spell-engines there or he will die. Perhaps that is the wrong word. He will unravel. His life force is woven into a pattern of energy that should be self-sustaining.”
Olivia looked up sharply. “But some part of it is undone and it is starting to unravel like a tapestry from which threads have been pulled.”
“Exactly so.” Kormak said.
The woman looked excited. “That confirms what Eraclius of Anacreon claimed,” she said.
“It may be,” said Kormak. “But I have not read any of that sage’s works.”
“We have a collection in our library,” said Olivia. “You may study them before you retire. Of course, they are written in High Solari.”
“I am familiar with the tongue,” said Kormak.
“A Guardian would be,” she said. “I am surprised you have not read Eraclius. I had always heard that the Library at Aethelas was the best in the world.”
“It is lady, but I have read only a tiny fraction of its volumes. My duties are of a more active than scholarly nature.”
“Of course,” she said. “They would be. I will see to it that you are brought a selection of the scrolls pertaining to your quest. The knowledge they contain may prove useful to you.”
“Thank you, Lady Olivia.”
The Prince said, “We should eat now and I would question Sir Kormak about his career. There is a lot he can tell me and I would get it down while I have the chance.”
Luther seemed as keen about this as his sister did about her scholarship. They were an odd couple with strange enthusiasms and a languor about them that seemed to fit their surroundings.
He began to suspect that they were perhaps more typical of the Sunlander aristocracy in this land than he had at first thought. There was a doomed quality about them, as if they were simply passing through this land, shadows in the light of the harsh sun, destined to vanish with the coming of night.
A servant brought in parchment and quills and Luther rose and sat himself at table. He b
egan to ask Kormak about his life and his training and his travels. He was interested in the oddest things. Was he afraid when he confronted his first demon? What did it feel like to kill an immortal? Did he sometimes find himself sympathising with those he killed?
The last question obviously had a resonance with Luther. He clearly identified with the ancient immortals whose lives were being extinguished by one whose lifespan was an eyeblink to them. He wondered about the lost knowledge and what those eyes might have looked on. Certainly far more than Kormak would ever see no matter how far he travelled.
It was late when the servant finally showed Kormak to his chamber, illuminating the way with a lantern. The room was as luxuriously furnished as the rest of the mansion. A large four-poster bed in the western style was there, decorated with carvings in the ornate local fashion that were seemingly Elder Signs intended to ward the sleeper as they dreamt but which were so ornate that Kormak doubted they would function as intended.
He stripped off his armour but made sure his scabbarded sword was within easy reach on the bedside table. He threw open the shutters and looked out into the night. The moon rose huge and strange over the towers and minarets of the city. The Tower of the Sun loomed gigantically over everything. At its peak something burned like the beacon in a lighthouse. Kormak remembered being able to see that light from leagues away across the desert. He thought about Taurea and the lands of the West he had left behind. It would be winter there now. It was winter here but it just did not feel like it. He was a long, long way from home and he felt it.
There was a gentle knock on the door. Kormak picked up his scabbard and walked over to the door, unbolting it. Olivia stood there. She carried a bunch of scrolls tied up with a ribbon. Her dress was lighter than the one she had worn downstairs, revealing her figure. Her hair was pinned up revealing her neck.
“I brought you the works of Eraclius I talked about,” she said.
“It was not necessary for you to bring them yourself, my lady,” Kormak said.
“It is my pleasure to do so, Guardian,” she said. “Do you mind if I come in?”