The Wraeththu Trilogy

by Storm Constantine

  "You are foolish beyond words or indeed comprehension!" Panthera declared as if it was written in stone. "We wouldn't survive five minutes in Oomadrah. We don't know the customs, we don't know the law. This ship can take us straight to Chane. We could be in Roselane within two weeks. Why can't you chase phantoms in Oomadrah after that?"

  I could not say that, after Roselane, there was always the possibility I'd no longer be able to take independent action. For if I did, Panthera would first accuse me of acute pessimism and then chew it over privately and worry. I opted for an easier way out. "Because I trust my instincts and my instincts want me to go there now, that's why. There must be hara who can be hired as guides, interpreters, whatever, to take us there. I'll ask Asvak about it."

  Panthera nodded sourly. "Oh yes, and supposing we are successful in meeting the Lion. What are you going to say to him, Cal? Have you thought of that? Do you think he'll be pleased to see you? Will he even recognize you after all this time?"

  "Oh, he'll recognize me, I have no doubts about that! As for the other questions, I really don't know, but I'll have worked something out by the time we get there."

  "It's decided then, is it? We're going to Oomadrah?"

  I reached to touch his face. "Panthera, I must be honest with you; I decided that quite some time ago. Of course, you don't have to come with me ..."

  My sultry Panthera smiled then, and the sourness dropped from his eyes in an instant. "Oh Cal, as you said, I'm just an extension of the voice of your conscience. You must be asked these things. I'm not afraid of Maudrah. As a matter of fact, though I was loath to admit it, there is a distant relative of mine there, on my hostling's side. I

  believe he is employed in the royal house itself. Even if he agrees to see us, we'll need our wits about us though, and an efficient guide."

  This was more than I could have hoped for, but I wasn't going to let my feelings show. "Can Asvak drop us off somewhere convenient do you think?" I asked coolly.

  "Well, we can ask him to take us to Morla, although this ship would probably have called there anyway. We'll need the luck of the Aghama on our side for that; let's hope he's listening."

  "Quite," I said.

  Late afternoon, as the tide was turning, we set sail once more. It was a glorious day and the ensuing sunset was breath-taking. Asvak had a couple of his crew members set out a table on deck for the evening meal and brought out a bottle of his finest wine. A gentle breeze carried a smell of grass from the distant shore, which complemented the exquisite aroma of spiced meat, if not Asvak's rather overpowering perfume. Halfway through the main course, I mentioned that Panthera and I had decided to go to Morla instead of Chane. This was met with silence. Asvak was obviously suspicious of our motives. It was not an unreasonable misgiving. After all, he had to trade in Maudrah and didn't want to risk incurring the displeasure of the Niz. It was not inconceivable that ferrying dissidents of any kind to Maudrah would be regarded unfavourably. Luckily, Panthera managed to persuade him otherwise (his charm, when he deigns to use it, is humbling, to say the least). He told Asvak about the relative in Oomadrah.

  "Our original plan was to pay him a visit on our way back from Roselane," he said, "but we've changed our plans in that we now intend to carry on to Kalamah instead, so Maudrah must come first. Roselane will have to wait a little while."

  "Very well," Asvak assented, after another of his grinding thinks, "but if you should ran foul of the Niz, you did not reach Maudrah through me."

  "Naturally," I said. "Can you recommend a guide to take us to Ooma-drah, and who might be able to keep us out of trouble?"

  Asvak was still wary. "There are one or two in Morla," he said. "I may be able to affect an introduction for you. You realize I take a considerable risk in helping you."

  "My purse realized that before I even thought of it," I said, and Asvak managed a weak smile.

  Dawn was just breaking when the gaunt spires of Morla appeared against the sky to our left. It had taken us about three and a half days to reach it. Panthera and I were up on deck, bags packed and ready, to watch the approach. Behind us, Asvak's sailors called to each other eerily from the rigging. Wide-winged birds hung in the sky investigating our presence. In the town, a bell was tolling, and light flashed off the tallest spire, which was crowned with metal. Ahead of the Auric Wing, the sky was opalescent and hazy; all the sea was shining like oil.

  Asvak offered to take us to a guide he was acquainted with, and who was best suited to hara unfamiliar with the country. "It would be best if you wore dark clothes, cloaks if you have them, to go ashore," he said.

  The streets of Morla are narrow and murky. It was strange and disorientating to walk upon solid ground once more and disappointing that we could not go into the nearest inn for a meal and tankard of ale. It is not that there are no inns in Maudrah, but because of the rigors of the local customs, it is inadvisable for strangers to go into them. We soon gathered that the best mode of behavior was one of steady inconspicuousness, which was difficult, for a har can be recognized as alien even by his stance. "You may come to regret this," was all Asvak would say. We descended a narrow flight of steps, leading to a gloomy lane, overhung by cramped, leaning

  buildings. Here, Asvak pressed us back against the damp wall to allow a single file of chanting, dark-robed figures to pass.

  "They are novitiate Niz, combing the streets with the hems of their robes," Asvak told us. "It is a ritual performed every morning, whatever the weather."

  Half-way up the lane, he knocked softly upon a low, heavily-linteled door. A code. Three knocks, pause, one knock, pause, three again. After a while, a window was opened with difficulty on the upper floor and a pale face looked out. "Dawn blessings," Asvak said, touching his brow and his lips with two fingers. The window closed and presently we could hear a series of bolts and locks being drawn and turned behind the door. It was opened by a har with white face and hair, dressed in dark brown and gray.

  "Dawn blessings, Asvak of the Ferike," he said. "You are welcome in peace over this threshold." Asvak kissed this har upon each cheek and led the way inside. The house was dark and smelled damp. Our host lit a lamp to reveal a wide, sparsely-furnished kitchen. "May I light the fire?" he asked Asvak.

  "The hour is early," the Captain replied. "I will lend you my hands also."

  Panthera and I were left standing there, exchanging confused glances, while they made the fire and lit it. A much longer process than the task merited, I felt. Once this was done, Asvak deigned to introduce us.

  "Lourana, this is Calanthe and Panthera of the house of Jael in Ferike. They would honor you with a request."

  "Which is?"

  "A guide to Oomadrah," I said, "if you would help us . . ."

  Here, Asvak screwed up his face in mortification. Lourana had assumed a stony expression and slid his eyes to Asvak. Offense had been given. I assumed.

  "You must forgive them," Asvak said. "They have not set foot in Maudrah before."

  Lourana gave us an icy smile. "It is plain to me. If I can lapse into the common tongue here, Asvak, and address your companions?" Asvak waved an arm. "You may."

  "Please, sit down." Lourana gestured toward the table, where wooden benches were set along either side. We did so, and he took his place at the head, folding his hands on the worn surface. We were appraised, very slowly, one after the other. Then Lourana spoke. "This is a danger-frought situation, if ever there was one! Friends of Asvak, I must tell you that for the transgression you just unwittingly committed by speaking out of turn, you could have been taken into custody by the Aditi and asked any number of awkward questions. You look confused. Well, remember this: as an outlander, you must never speak directly to a native of Maudrah unless they have spoken first. If you wish to attract somebody's attention, you must speak your request out loud, to the Aghama, so that he may speak for you." (I dared not look at Panthera. Lourana was serious.) "If you really are ignorant of all Maudrah customs, you must remain silent and stooped at
all times when other hara are present. Leave all communication to me. Now you must offer me payment."

  I looked at Asvak and he nodded discretely. "How much do you require?" I asked.

  Lourana shook his head. "No, that is not the way." He sighed. "Make me an offer, an offer way too high. Then it is for me to suggest a fair figure."

  "A hundred spinners?"

  "Thirty will be plenty." The Maudrah were cheaper to hire than the Sahale then. I shudder to think, how much Zhatsin would have charged for taking us on such a journey.

  "Would it be possible for me to pay you now, plus any extra for the purchase of horses and supplies?"

  "Payment in advance will be welcome," Lourana answered, "but horses will not be necessary. I have a vehicle."

  "A vehicle? What kind?" Panthera asked, clearly unconcerned with whether that was a permissible question. Lourana had the courtesy to ignore any transgression.

  "A crystal-powered car, such as are used by the Garridan and the Gelaming, and, of course," he smiled slightly, "the Maudrah."

  "The journey will be quite swift then," I said.

  Lourana inclined his head. "Very swift. I've found that this is the safest way with strangers. There are too many hazards upon the roads, too many encounters I'd rather avoid. The sooner you leave Morla the better. Ooma-drah is more tolerant of outlanders. This is a small town. Everybody knows each other here." A strangely ominous remark.

  Asvak stood up, as if suddenly remembering where he was. "Yes, I'd better be back on the Auric Wing before too many people are abroad in the streets," he said and held out his hand to us. "Good luck to you, tiahaara, may you reach your destination in safety."

  I put some coins into his hand, to which he made no comment. He was eager to be gone. I experienced my first pangs of misgiving. Once the Auric Wing had set sail we were stuck here.

  "You must have good reason for visiting Oomadrah," Lourana said, prying.

  I waited until Asvak had closed the door behind him before replying. "I do. I want to

  speak with Ariaric."

  Lourana did not flinch. "The Ariaric?"

  I nodded and Lourana stared at me very closely. He reminded me a great deal of Flounah (which was not very comforting) even though his hair was white where Flounah's was black. They shared the same ascetic appearance however, and the same piercing gray eyes.

  "You are a brave har," he said evenly. "I am not here to question your requirements, merely to do the job I'm paid for. It may be that you wish to harm the person of the Archon, in which case, by assisting you, I run the risk of displeasing the Niz—never a wise course of action—but, as I have accepted this contract, I must abide by my decision."

  "I can assure you," I said, "I'm not an assassin."

  Lourana held up his hands and closed his eyes. "Please, no more," he said emphatically. "I do not want to know what you are or what your business is. It's safer that way."

  It was decided that, as anonymity was such a vital factor, we would wait until dusk to leave Lourana's house. He lived alone, in the dark and the cold, like a wraith-light. In fact, Lourana was the only touch of brightness in the place. From outside, he must look like a lonely ghost flitting from window to window, wandering the rooms, looking for life. He drew the curtains (dingy things) across the kitchen window and gave us bread and meat to eat, accompanied by large mugs of bitter, lavishly sugared tea. Every time we heard footsteps pass the house, Lourana winced and glanced at the curtains. I could not help wondering why he stayed in Morla; he seemed far from content there. Perhaps it was for love, though somehow, that explanation didn't ring true. It was a dismal day we spent there, Panthera restless and pacing, Lourana tense as wire, wide-eyed, and infecting both Panthera and myself with taut nerves. We spoke

  little, only learning that once in Oomadrah, we should submit our letter to the city's administrators and hope for the best. Clearly, Lourana thought his responsibilities ended there. I could not resist enquiring; I asked. "Lourana, if a native of Morla wanted you to take them in your crystal-powered car to Oomadrah, how much would you get off them?"

  "Three spinners, maybe," he answered. "Now do you see why I have to risk taking strangers there?" Yes, very clearly.

  As the light began to fade, Lourana set about gathering the things we would need for the journey. I helped him carry bags and boxes out to a shed at the back of the house. Here, the sleek gray car lay like a prize cat, waiting to be aroused to purring life. I can't say I understand the way such vehicles work but they run without wheels and are not hampered by weight. The yard was greasy and black. Lourana opened the double doors to the shed onto another high walled lane at the back of the house. There did not appear to be any sign of life in the other dwellings in the row, but of course, quiet behavior is standard in Maudrah, so this was not really surprising.

  "Now, get in the back," Lourana instructed, lifting up the transparent dome of the car. "Hurry up, get that luggage in. Noise will attract attention."

  He jumped nimbly into the front and breathed upon an oily-looking panel beneath the control sticks. With a yawning whine, the vehicle shivered, sighed and levitated gracefully three feet off the ground. Spots of light bloomed around the controls, which Lourana touched lightly, in sequence, with the tips of his fingers. The car edged warily forward into the lane, slanting slightly as it turned. There was no-one around.

  "Strap yourselves in," Lourana commanded, still fingering the light panels. "Please make sure the canvas over the baggage is secure."

  Once satisfied that passengers and luggage were in place, Lourana increased the speed to normal walking pace. We emerged from the dank, dark lane into a wider thoroughfare, where other somberly clothed hara could be seen shuffling, head-down, along the pavement. I heard a metallic swish and looked up. Another car flashed overhead, leaving a luminous trail behind it which quickly dispersed. Even though Morla was lit by street lamps, the feeling of darkness was not alleviated. We passed inns, but no sound of revelry, or even conversation, drifted outside. Sour-faced hara clutched glasses of ale in the doorways, looking at the ground. Lourana pulled the hood of his cloak over his glowing hair.

  "Keep your eyes lowered," he murmured over his shoulder, "and your hoods up."

  I was beginning to feel apprehensive. The appalling, oppressive atmosphere of the town was getting to me. Danger seemed to lurk in every shadow. We drifted onwards at the same sedate pace. Occasionally other vehicles would pass us, causing us to shrink back in our seats. Our direction was north. It took us a good half hour to reach the outskirts of the town,and Morla is not a large place either. Now the streets were wider and the houses spaced more widely apart; clearly a residential area. Perhaps this was where the Niz lived. Lourana increased our speed a fraction and the buildings fell away to reveal the grassy plains of Hool Glasting stretching away before us into the night. Lourana stopped the car, letting it hover a few inches off the ground.

  He slumped forward, emitting a long, shuddering sigh. "The Aditi are very vigilant in Morla," he said. "You don't know how lucky we are to have passed through without them stopping us to ask questions." He straightened up. "Are you ready, tiahaara of Jael? Now, we may really travel."

  We were ready. Lourana savored this moment. He lifted the car to a height of six feet or so, before quickly touching the light panel. I had once owned a horse, who, at a command, could jump straight into a gallop from a standstill. Lourana's car had a very similar response. It seemed to bunch itself up, take a step backwards and then shoot forwards at sickening speed. Panthera and I were pushed hard against our seats, the

  wind of our flight whipping our hoods back, lifting Lourana's hair like a white flag. He touched the light panel and the dome of the car slid silently over our heads, sealing us from the wind. We shot like a comet over the land. Looking back, I could see the ghostly shimmery trail of our passage, dissolving and floating to earth. The car rose in the air until the ground was some thirty feet below us. Lourana told us he was setting the course.
Now he could sit back and relax. I asked him if we could smoke. He said yes, so I offered him one.

  As he took it, he said, "This is sinful," and then laughed as I offered him a light. Now that we were out of Morla, our guide seemed much more inclined to talk. He told us that he liked being with outlanders, because then it didn't seem to matter what he said or did. "Sometimes, I must admit, the strictures of my life do sit rather heavily upon my shoulders," he said.

  "Then why live it?" Panthera asked. "Couldn't you find work in Hadas-sah or Gimrah?"

  Lourana shook his head. "You don't understand. The way we live is the right way. I am weak to yearn occasional respite from it, and shall no doubt have to pay for it some day. We cannot live like men; look what happened to them! We need order so that we may develop . . ."

  "Oh come on!" I couldn't help interrupting. "No-one I saw in Morla could be described as a particularly enlightened soul!"

  "The individual may only learn through suffering. We carry a great blood-debt on our hands ..."