The argument raged on, but I was speechless. The Keeper’s choice? She wanted me to be the next Keeper? So that was what this was all about.
Well, I might or might not agree to it. That was a matter for later. Right now, someone had to prevent them coming to blows.
“Stop it!” No response. I stamped my foot and yelled. “Stop it, all of you.”
Still no reaction.
I loosed a bolt of flame that crackled and smoked over their heads. Everyone squealed and jumped away, with a rattle of sword belts. Silence fell.
“Thank you. Now, if you would just listen, we can sort this out very easily.” I turned to the prince. “Highness, am I still arrested?”
He straightened his back. “You are.”
“Good. Then as one of the Highest of the Empire, I claim the right of Honorary Protected Status under the provisions of the Treaty of Maxygoria, in the Year of Glorious Empire one thousand four hundred and sixty-nine. As such, I request that all charges against me be dropped forthwith.”
There was a long silence, then someone – it might have been Zak – began to laugh.
The prince shook his head in bemusement. “The year one thousand… That is eight hundred years ago. And what under the moons and stars is the Treaty of Maxygoria?”
“Maxygoria was the capital of the area now ruled by Caxangur, which at the time was little more than a collection of straw huts. It enjoyed a brief period as a semi-autonomous protectorate, with some unusual laws. That treaty is now part of the body of law inherited over the centuries by Caxangur. It has never been repealed.”
“But…” The prince was floundering, but there was a thread of amusement in his mind. “Why did you ask if you were still arrested?”
“If I were not, that would have been a different law, Highness. The Document of Agreement between the Exalted—”
“Yes, yes, yes. We get the gist of it.” A glimmer of a smile. “You are very clever, Lady. You realise that our best legal minds will be looking at this treaty for the least flaw?”
“I would expect nothing less.”
He bowed. “Then you are free to go. For the moment.”
Swords were sheathed, and several of the men bowed or saluted their opposite number to acknowledge the accord. The Crown Princess glowered at me, but Caxangur is ruled in every way by the law. Without legal advice, she could not challenge me.
The Third Protector bent his head to my ear. “The Keeper says that you are so like your father. That is exactly what he would have done.”
“He taught me everything I know.” But I couldn’t even muster a smile. It had been a long, miserable day, and I was shivering. The light, drenching rain had chilled me to my bones. “And now, if you really want to look after me, Revered One, find me enough hot water in this devastation to bathe in.”
~~~~~
We returned to Mesanthia as heroes. Our train of barges glided under the Imperial Arch, and this time there was no carriage awaiting us. Instead, we were towed on through into the Great Canal, and then the Old Canal, and the Empress’s Canal, all filled with water at last, as they should be. Every building was draped with banners and the Imperial flag, and I caught snatches of music and drums as we passed by.
And the fountains played. Everywhere there were fountains, water shooting high into the sky, and children clambering amongst the cascades, climbing up to catch a view of us.
Everyone in the city turned out to cheer us home, Akk’ashara and Dresshtian standing side by side, and even some Tre’annatha. A multitude of differences, all blending into one, smiling, laughing, crying. I saw tears on so many faces, and not just amongst the watching crowds, either.
Hytharn was by far the most popular. He was well known and well loved, it appeared, from his tournament days, his flashing sword drawing crowds of thousands to the stadium to watch and admire. He was already being called the Hero of Hurk Hranda, as if he had taken the city single-handedly. Zak stood beside him on the barge, the two holding hands and waving in unison to the cheering Mesanthians, while I lurked in the shadows, unnoticed.
Our procession emerged onto the river and came to rest at the dock below the Keeper’s Isle. An ingenious pulley system set into the cliff winched us in comfort to the top, a short walk away from the Keeper’s Tower. There was a reception, and formal speeches, and much ceremony, made worse by the inclusion of the Crown Princess and High Prince of Caxangur, and one of the twins, Han Hrillon, come to formalise the division of power in Hurk Hranda. No mention was made of the Choosing, now only a few days away.
By the time I went to my room, I was exhausted. I sent the servants away, kicked off my slippers and walked out onto the balcony. The warmth was blissful, seeping into my bones and soothing me from within. The balustrade was entwined with a clinging vine, its perfumed flowers filling the air. Below me, a fountain played, plashing softly. My flickers hummed with quiet contentment, even the new ones. They had settled in well, although still easily upset. I had no idea yet what they had been trained to do. Perhaps I could find a use for them, or perhaps they could live out their appointed lifespan quietly, free of Hrandish aggression.
I was home, and glad of it, but I was afraid, too. Did I want to be Keeper, trapped here for the next thirty years? Even with my Protectors as eyes, and later the Children of the Spirit, my body would never leave here. Was that what I wanted? If the Spirit chose me, could I willingly commit so much of my life to Mesanthia?
Yet it was my duty. Those asked to be candidates were supposed to accept the chance with gladness. If chosen, they should take up their destiny joyously. To be chosen by the Spirit was the greatest honour Mesanthia could bestow, but it was also said that the Spirit chose those most worthy, not the most willing.
If it was my destiny, then so be it. And perhaps in time I could find another lover who would fill my heart with joy, and comfort my loneliness. Perhaps it would be one of the Protectors. Or a member of the Keeper’s Guard, as with the present Keeper. And if I were truly lucky, the Spirit wouldn’t choose me at all, and I could retreat to my books at the Academia.
A knock at the door. Zak, with Hytharn just behind him. The two were never apart. I liked Hytharn, but then it was impossible not to. He was so straightforward and transparent, always full of the pleasure of life, the innate goodness of the world, the simple belief that all would be well. His mind was just the same, smooth and restful.
“Are you all right?” Zak’s voice was quiet.
I flopped into a chair, expecting them to sit too, but to my surprise, Zak knelt at my feet and took my hands. I closed my eyes, savouring his touch, but wishing too that he would stop tormenting me and go away.
“Allandra? Tell me you are all right.”
“I am all right,” I said tiredly.
“Will you do it?”
“Accept the candidacy? Do I have a choice?”
“Of course, but I hoped… I mean, isn’t that what we’ve worked for? So you could be Empress?”
“So that someone could be Empress. To restore our water, restore the Empire, recover our pride. So we could be free of the Tre’annatha yoke. But not for myself, no. I never even thought of that. I didn’t expect to survive, remember?”
“But now that you have thought of it… I hope you can see… Sweet lady, I—”
I snatched hand from his grasp. “Don’t sweet lady me! I will do what I must, but don’t expect me to be happy about it. I thought…”
I hesitated. Words once spoken are gone like birds with the wind.
But I had to speak. “I thought we would be together. Long years, you said. You offered to share my life. And now…” A glance at Hytharn. “I’m happy for you, truly, but—”
“Oh, but I meant all that,” Zak burst out. “Hytharn doesn’t change anything. I’ll always be with him, of course. But I’ll be with you, too. I’ve agreed to it.”
“Agreed?”
“To stand as a candidate alongside you. To be your First Protector. I thought… isn�
�t that what you want?”
How stupid of me not to have guessed. “But… how?” Another glance at Hytharn, who smiled his beatific smile at me.
Zak laughed. “It’s not a problem. I love Hytharn with all my heart, but I enjoy being with women, too. We both do.”
Hytharn nodded. “Women are lovely.”
“I enjoy being with you,” Zak said, stroking my hand. “I started by being suspicious of you. Then I saw you as a tool to be used. But I’ve learned to trust your instincts.”
“And you have an excellent knowledge of the law,” Hytharn added, with a rumble of laughter.
“Indeed,” Zak said. “I’ve grown very fond of you, Allandra, truly. You know I speak the truth, don’t you?”
I did. There wasn’t a jot of insincerity in him. Perhaps he was still manipulating me for his own ends, or following his mother’s orders to take care of me, but he was not in the least reluctant. I could live with that very well.
“Then kiss me,” I said.
He did. Without the slightest hesitation, quite unconcerned that Hytharn was watching, he leaned forward and gave me a long, warm kiss. A lover’s kiss.
When we broke apart, Hytharn said, “I want one too.”
That made me laugh with delight. “Come here, then.”
His kiss was different: soft, gentle, friendly rather than passionate. But both their minds were alight with pleasure, without the smallest hint of jealousy.
Their love was wide enough and deep enough that there was room for me, too.
My heart surged at the thought of it – Zak would be by my side, always. He would never leave me. And Hytharn would be with me, too.
I could do this. I could be Keeper. If the Spirit were to choose me.
~~~~~
We wore white for the Choosing. The candidates always wore white, the colour of celebration. I even had an elegant new thrower’s coat for the occasion, a silk confection which almost looked as if it were part of the ensemble.
We gathered in our pairs in the marble-floored entrance hall of the Keeper’s Tower. I knew almost all of the other candidates, people I’d grown up with, played with, studied with. If I’d stayed, we would all have been close friends. They seemed like strangers to me now. They stayed in a group, while Zak and I, the outsiders, stood a little apart.
When it was time, we progressed down broad stairs and into the pillared receiving room, as all the servants, secretaries and assistants bowed deeply. We entered the Keeper’s Room and the doors closed softly behind us. As before, there was an oppressive heaviness that dragged my spirits down. Did I really want to be trapped here, with all this weighty power on my shoulders? But I had made my decision, and I would let the Spirit decide my fate.
The room felt crowded today. All five Protectors were present, and the nine Children of the Spirit, as well as the fourteen candidates. I looked around at them, Akk’ashara, every one. The same dark skin and dark curling hair, the same full lips. Like the Tre’annatha, we must look identical to outsiders.
A year ago, I would have thought nothing of it. Now, I thought of Xando and Hytharn, of Rufin and Petreon and Morna, the many facets of humanity I’d encountered at Twisted Rock and along the canals of the Two Rivers Basin. For the first time, I was aware of the oddity of such uniformity in our people. I wasn’t sure I liked it.
The Keeper beamed happily at us all. She looked exactly as normal, no special clothes, no extra jewels, nothing to mark her as the most powerful woman in Mesanthia. Her mind shone with happiness. Today she handed over her responsibilities to another. Today she would be free.
“Come in, come in,” she said. “No loitering around the door. Spread out, girls on this side, boys over there. Good, good.”
We shuffled ourselves around. I took a comforting peek into Zak’s mind, but he was unusually serious today.
The Keeper chuckled at us. “Such solemn faces! Cheer up, all of you. This is not an ordeal, nor will it hurt in the slightest. There. Are you all settled? Good. Let us begin.”
She detached the crystal cube from the chain around her neck and shook it vigorously. Then she fitted it into a recess in the top of the black marble pillar in the centre of the room.
The room went dark for an instant, then just as quickly it was filled with light, the white-painted walls glowing all round us. And they were covered in writing.
All the candidates gasped, heads turning to look all round. I turned and stared at the wall behind me, rooted to the spot. Some of it I recognised. Part was plain High Mesanthian, although a very archaic form. A whole section was Helmonic, in the original nine lines script, and a much later script as well. There was a fragment of Xhrin’ha, some iconic Linmar and what looked like a variant of Th’kell. But most of it was incomprehensible to me.
I turned to the Keeper in disbelief.
“These are the words of the Spirit,” she said. “One of you girls will be chosen as Keeper. When you are asked for guidance, you will come here and do as I have done – shake the Spirit and place it on the pillar. Then you will study the words, and from the words decide the right course of action.”
“But the words make no sense!” I said.
She beamed at me as if I’d said something clever. “Not at first, no, but if you allow the Spirit to guide you, sense will emerge. You must place your trust in the Spirit. Now, onwards! Each pair will step forward to the Spirit, and place one finger on it. All seven of you, in turn. Then a second round, and so on, until the Spirit chooses. If there are five rounds and no pair is chosen, then the Choosing has failed, and we must try again on the next suitable date. Come along, you two first.”
It was such a solemn occasion, yet she made it seem as mundane as an afternoon stroll in the gardens. One pair stepped forward, each placing a finger on the crystal box. It lit up with a dazzling inner light, turning their faces to tiny moons and casting the rest of the room into deep shadow. Then it slowly faded away. Then the next pair, and the next. They were nervous beforehand, but afterwards – puzzled, relieved. Nothing to fear, then.
Our turn. Zak caught my eye and winked as we took our places either side of the marble pillar. I smiled back. It felt so intimate, in the midst of all the formality, and I loved him for it. I loved him so much, and he would never love me the same way, but I was content with what he could give me. He was with me, as I had wanted since the moment I met him.
I placed my finger on the box. It was neither hot nor cold, just smooth as glass, the light shining on our faces. It seemed to me that we were lit up for a long time, longer than for the others. I waited for it to fade, but nothing happened. Zak looked up at me, puzzlement in his eyes. I didn’t understand it either. Perhaps my ability interfered with the process? But the Keeper’s instructions were so vague, it could also be a perfectly normal response.
The slightest jolt of warmth fizzed through my mind, and the whole room lit up as bright as midsummer. I heard gasps behind me.
“Oh, most interesting!” the Keeper trilled. “A Choosing before the end of the first round. How unusual! Wait until the light fades, you two. Give it time to settle.”
It seemed a long time before the light returned to normal levels, while the other candidates whispered furiously amongst themselves. Then the Keeper detached the chain from around her neck, and pressed it into my hand. “Yours now, child. No one can touch the Spirit but you. You may step away now.”
“Is that it?” Zak said, examining his hands as if he expected some visible difference. “That’s all there is? I expected to feel… changed.”
“Ah! You will be,” the Keeper said. “Tomorrow the new Keeper will begin that process, by changing her blood. I will show her how to do that. Then, in a moon’s time, she will change the blood of her Protectors, too. That is when the bonding between you all will happen.” She smiled at my confused face. “You have a moon to select your Protectors. Here…” She took the chain from my unresponsive fingers, and placed it round my neck. “Take the Spirit. You are Keeper n
ow, Revered One.”
I reached for the crystal box. Such a small thing, yet so powerful. As soon as I lifted it from the plinth, I felt different. The entire wisdom of our race rested in my hand, but it didn’t feel heavy any more. It was light as summer clouds, lifting me with it. I was Keeper, and the Spirit reached out and embraced me.
52: The Feast
That night, there was a feast, to which all the Highest of the Empire were invited, and other honoured guests. There was no hall in the Keeper’s Tower large enough, so we all went to the overwrought majesty of the Imperial Tower.
Even me. Something else I’d never realised, that the Keeper could move anywhere within the confines of the Keeper’s Isle. I was not, after all, trapped within the walls of the Keeper’s Tower. I grumbled about it all the way to the Imperial Tower.
“Why was I not informed of all this? So much secrecy! How can anyone make a sensible decision when so much is withheld? There ought at least to be a book with all this written down.”
Zak squeezed my hand, barely able to speak for laughing. “You may be Keeper,” he said, “but you haven’t changed a bit. You should write the book yourself.”
“Maybe I will,” I said crossly. But my annoyance couldn’t last long, not when he was beside me, my hand resting in his.
The ceremony was interminable. Zak and I stood at the head of a long receiving line as the worthies of Mesanthia smiled and bowed and handed me expensive gifts. The jewels and lacquered boxes were pretty, but some brought me books and I could barely bring myself to hand them off to the servants to be displayed.
The feast was better. At least we could all sit down, and I had Zak beside me to talk to. Mostly, I picked at my food and looked about me, at all these people who had come to pay homage to me. They were easy to divide into groups. The Mesanthians all wore white, and enough jewels to dazzle an army. Scattered about, a few spots of colour. The Caxangur contingent in bright greens and blues and yellows. The young prince and his aides from Hurk Hranda in muted desert red and brown and amber. The Tre’annatha in their rich jewel colours, with froths of lace. Scuttling about with tureens and decanters, the vast array of servants, mostly Dresshtian, wearing Empire colours today, red and gold.
The Magic Mines of Asharim Page 50