Crown of Silence

by Constantine, Storm

  ‘Yet you are here, now, when I asked you to come. Interesting.’

  ‘The encampment is crawling with Magravandians. Helayna has vanished. I needed to get away.’

  Shan noticed that Tayven’s fists were clenched in his lap. It seemed Neferishu was well aware of the tension too. ‘Indeed you did need to get away!’ she said. ‘And where better to come than here?’ She flapped a hand at Maycarpe. ‘You mustn’t bully him, Darris. Let him enjoy this evening in convivial company. You’ll have plenty of time to talk politics tomorrow. Come, more wine.’

  Tayven’s presence had only just begun to sink into Shan’s mind. For months, he’d wondered about meeting him, now he was here. Taropat’s description of a fey, spiritual being seemed extremely misguided. Tayven appeared to be prickly and difficult, and his face was harder than Shan had thought it would be. Clearly, his experiences in Cos had marked him. Shan could not imagine how he could ever broach the subject of what he’d seen in the scry-mede, never mind the whereabouts of Taropat. He suspected that Tayven would harbour bitter memories of Khaster.

  As the evening wore on, the lizard wine ensured that conversation flowed more easily. Neferishu held both Shan and Tayven in her net, and kept their attention upon her. She was on form that night, abrim with witticisms that couldn’t help but lift any awkward mood. Tayven remained somewhat terse, yet polite. Occasionally, Shan caught him looking at him speculatively.

  Neferishu excused herself from the company and glided into the palace, and for some moments, Shan and Tayven were left alone.

  ‘I know you,’ Tayven said in a low, almost vicious voice. ‘Whom do you serve? Almorante? Bayard?’

  ‘No one,’ Shan said. ‘I am from Breeland.’

  ‘Maycarpe, Leckery, they wanted us meet. This is a plot. I am not stupid. They want me to return to Magravandias, stir up the wasps.’

  ‘That may be true, but I’m not part of it,’ Shan said. He paused. ‘Do you remember where you know me from?’

  Tayven drew back a little. ‘Why did you want to meet me? Have you been tracking me? It is a waste of time. I could disappear now in an instant if I wished to.’

  ‘I haven’t been tracking you. I have seen you before, only we have not met.’ He paused again. ‘We have a mutual friend.’

  ‘The only friends I have are in Cos.’

  Shan didn’t respond to that. This was neither the time nor the place to reveal anything. ‘Perhaps we could talk at some point.’ He wasn’t yet sure whether he should reveal what he knew or not, but the wine had loosened his tongue. A cool detached part of him was aware of this.

  ‘I don’t think you will say anything I want to hear,’ Tayven said. ‘You should be aware I distance myself from all connivings.’

  ‘What I have to say is nothing to with anything like that.’

  ‘You are Maycarpe’s protégé. It must have.’

  ‘I am not his protégé. I was sent to Akahana to train under General Tuya. Maycarpe took a liking to me, that’s all. I’m not a friend of Magravandias, but I’m playing the game here. It’s as simple as that. We have to talk.’

  Shan became aware of a looming presence and turned round. Maycarpe was standing behind him. ‘This looks to be urgent talk between you,’ he said. ‘Do you two know each other?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tayven.

  ‘No,’ said Shan.

  ‘Some confusion over your relationship, it seems,’ Maycarpe said.

  ‘We met once, but we don’t know one another,’ Shan said, aware he had to deflect Maycarpe’s interest. ‘After that meeting, I was eager to make Tayven’s acquaintance again.’ He risked a rather flirtatious smile. Tayven raised an ironic eyebrow.

  ‘I see,’ said Maycarpe. ‘Puppy love! You must have been very young indeed.’

  ‘Some people make an impression upon you, whatever age you are,’ Shan said. ‘From just one meeting, you can carry them with you for the rest of your life.’

  ‘How poetic!’ Maycarpe said, and laughed. ‘I wish I had met such a soul.’ He was clearly bored by what he thought was romance rather than intrigue, and drifted away.

  Tayven shook his head. ‘What was that about?’

  ‘He must not know our connection,’ Shan said. ‘My mentor’s privacy depends on it.’

  ‘What is our connection, then?’

  ‘Not here. It is too dangerous.’

  ‘I have to admit, I’m now intrigued. We will speak later, as you desire.’

  Shan had noticed that Merlan avoided him that night. Perhaps he was uncomfortable around Tayven. From what Shan had been able to observe, Merlan hadn’t even glanced in their direction. Shan tried to catch his eye, judge his mood.

  Tayven said, ‘Why do you look at him in that way? Are you accomplices?’

  Shan turned back. ‘No, he’s just a friend. But he’s keeping out of the way tonight. I suspect it’s because of you.’

  ‘Probably. I have an unreasonable hatred of him.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘He’s alive,’ Tayven said coldly.

  Neferishu sashayed back to her seat, and sat between them. ‘You look like conspirators,’ she said. ‘Give your attention to me, now. I demand it!’

  From anyone else, it might have sounded arrogant and spoiled, but from Neferishu, it was a joke. His inhibitions lowered by the wine, Shan was suddenly overwhelmed with a feeling of warmth for her. He leaned towards her and kissed her cheek. ‘I am privileged to know you, your majesty,’ he said. ‘Please indulge my importunity.’

  Neferishu laughed delightedly. ‘Excellent!’ she said. ‘Tayven, if you would only succumb to the same impulsiveness as Shan, my life would be complete.’

  Tayven ducked his head. ‘You know I admire you greatly.’

  Neferishu rolled her eyes. ‘Really! You are a tease. You break my heart.’

  She was still laughing, but Shan sensed, deep within, that she spoke the truth.

  Later, she and Shan were left alone for some minutes and Neferishu said wistfully, ‘This party is for him. He comes here too seldom. I expect that since Ashalan has caved in to the Magravandians, he’ll come even more infrequently, if at all.’ She sighed.

  ‘He spoke earlier of a quandary over what to do now,’ Shan said. ‘Perhaps you could persuade him to remain here in Akahana. Offer him a position on your staff.’

  ‘Tried it,’ Neferishu said. ‘He wouldn’t bite. He knows that Almorante and Palindrake come here often.’

  Shan saw Tayven walking back towards them. ‘He can’t run from the world forever.’

  ‘Yes he can,’ Neferishu said. ‘That is the tragedy of it.’

  Tayven did not sit down beside the queen again, but merely bowed. ‘I must take my leave, your majesty. The journey today has tired me.’

  ‘You are staying with Lord Maycarpe?’ Neferishu enquired.

  ‘In the governmental buildings, yes.’

  She smiled, her voice betraying no hint of her true feelings. ‘You must visit me tomorrow. I too would like to hear about the meeting between Valraven and the Cossics.’

  Tayven returned her smile with apparent ease. ‘It will be my pleasure. I’ll welcome an escape from Maycarpe’s oppression.’

  ‘Good,’ said Neferishu. ‘Early evening then. You may take dinner with me. I will send my litter for you.’

  Shan stood up, concerned his opportunity for a private talk with Tayven wouldn’t happen. But Tayven smiled at him slyly. ‘Perhaps you would walk with me, Shan.’

  Shan did not hesitate. ‘Yes. If you like.’

  Neferishu made a wordless sound of resigned disappointment and flopped back into her cushions. ‘You are Magravandian. I should have guessed.’

  Tayven took Shan’s arm. ‘Shall we go?’

  Once outside the court, having passed through a gauntlet of knowing, surprised and gloating eyes, Tayven dropped Shan’s arm. ‘They are off the scent. So, tell me then.’

  ‘I can’t. Not just like that. It’s too important.’


  Tayven pointed at Shan with an accusing finger. ‘Shall I tell you how I know you? I saw you in a magical mirror. Your face. Laugh if you like, but it is true.’

  ‘I know,’ Shan said. ‘I saw your face too once, but in a scry-mede.’

  Tayven stopped walking. ‘What is this?’

  ‘There is a connection between us, but I’m not sure what you’ll think of it.’

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘My mentor,’ Shan said. ‘He knew you.’

  ‘A Magravandian? Who?’

  Shan struggled for words, sure Tayven wouldn’t believe him.

  ‘You must speak. What is this?’ Tayven said harshly.

  ‘I heard a story,’ Shan said. ‘A tragic story. It affected me. I went into my mentor’s workroom and there picked up a scry-mede. When I looked into it, I saw a face looking back at me. I always knew it was you. Because of the story. It was your story, you see. That’s what I was told.’

  ‘Who told it to you?’

  ‘A man named Taropat,’ Shan said.

  Tayven frowned. ‘It means nothing to me.’

  ‘It wouldn’t. How can I explain? Taropat, I think, has lived for many hundreds of years. At least, his consciousness has. He takes a new body when one wears out. The body he has now he acquired some years ago, in Cos.’

  Tayven’s eyes narrowed. ‘Go on.’

  ‘He doesn’t eclipse the personality that comes with the body but somehow melds with it, so that his host retains all his memories, quirks and preferences. This body, Tayvenc by the gods, this is difficult!’

  Tayven took hold of Shan’s arms, gripped them painfully. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘Khaster,’ Shan said. ‘It is Khaster.’

  There was a moment’s silence, then Tayven exclaimed, ‘What? That is obscene. I won’t believe it!’ He pushed Shan away. ‘You think you can get to me with a story like that? What kind of person are you? Whom do you serve?’

  ‘It is the truth,’ Shan said. ‘I know it sounds incredible, but it isn’t. Khaster lives, Tayven. He lives in Breeland, but he is now Taropat.’

  ‘You lie! I won’t hear more of this. I should slit your throat for your effrontery.’

  Tayven made to walk away, but Shan caught hold of his right arm. ‘No. You must listen. I was nothing other than a Bree peasant until Taropat changed my life. He rescued me, he trained me. Eventually, he told me his story. I can tell it to you now. No one but Khaster would have known the details I’ve learned. I know about how you met in The Soak, your holiday at Recolletine, everything.’

  ‘Khaster failed me,’ Tayven said, ‘as I failed him. It was a hideous mess. It should be forgotten. I don’t believe he lives. If you have any compassion, you’ll let him remain dead for me.’

  ‘Compassion does not come into it. I was trained to speak only truth. I will not lie. The moment I saw your face in the scry-mede I knew that one day I would be here telling you these things. It was inevitable.’

  Tayven put his hands against his face, ground the heels of them into his eyes. He groaned. ‘Inevitable. Always. Nothing in this world is ever finished.’ He lowered his hands. ‘Does Maycarpe know of this?’

  Shan shook his head. ‘I’ve told no one, not even Merlan, because Taropat bade me to remain silent on the matter. He named Maycarpe and Merlan in particular. But he did not mention you. He thinks you’re dead too.’

  Tayven appeared calmer now. ‘Maycarpe wants Khaster, you know,’ he said. ‘Some years ago, he sought me out and told me he thought Khaster had survived. I tried to find him, but there was no trace. I believed Maycarpe to be mistaken.’

  ‘Come to my quarters,’ Shan said. ‘I will tell you the whole story.’

  Later, once Tayven had left, Shan lay upon his bed, unable to sleep. He felt unburdened, but also uneasy, as if he’d released a monster into the world that could not be stopped. It was the same feeling he’d had that day when he’d seen Tayven’s face in the mede. He realised his first thoughts about Tayven’s feelings for Khaster had been wrong. There was no bitterness there at all. Once the information had sunk in, it seemed that Tayven was glad to hear Khaster was alive, more than glad. This worried Shan, because it was not something he’d expected. It diminished his control over the situation, for Tayven might act independently. Shan had revealed too much. A man like Tayven, trained as a tracker, might be able to penetrate the Forest of Bree and find the tall narrow house. And what would happen then? Still, it was too late to worry now. The damage had been done.

  He had to know, Shan told himself, blinking at starlight. He had a right to.

  Chapter Eighteen: A Company of Worthy Men

  The following afternoon, Shan received an invitation to visit Lord Maycarpe. Merlan met him at the door. ‘Did you get what you wanted?’ he asked.

  Shan regarded him thoughtfully. ‘If you’re referring to Tayven Hirantel, I said what I had to say, yes.’

  ‘He will tell Maycarpe everything you said to him,’ Merlan said. ‘I hope you’re prepared for that.’

  Shan shrugged. ‘I have nothing to hide. It was a personal matter.’

  Merlan glanced at him shrewdly. ‘You don’t believe me, do you? Ah well, you’ll soon find out.’

  Shan reckoned that Merlan was merely being spiteful because of his own opinions of Tayven. But the moment he walked into Maycarpe’s office and saw Tayven sitting there, apparently completely at ease with the governor, Shan thought he might have to revise his opinion.

  ‘Ah, Shan, you are here,’ Maycarpe said. ‘Good. Now we may begin.’

  ‘Begin what?’ Shan asked. He gave Tayven a pointed look. Tayven merely pulled a rueful face and raised his hands.

  ‘Work in which we are all fascinated and involved,’ Maycarpe said. ‘We have who we need now. This is why I sent for Tayven. It has nothing to do with what the Dragon Lord is getting up to in Cos. That is a trifle. It does not concern us.’

  Shan frowned. ‘I’m all ears.’

  ‘Then sit down, make yourself comfortable. My servant is preparing us a beverage.’

  Shan gave Tayven another pointed glance. Had he told Maycarpe anything?

  Merlan would not sit but leaned against the blackwood dresser, his arms folded. His expression was grim.

  After the drinks had arrived and the servant had departed, Maycarpe said, ‘Which of you knows where your little company has to go?’

  ‘I wasn’t aware we were a “little company”,’ said Merlan dourly. ‘What do you mean?’

  Maycarpe sighed theatrically. ‘What have we been talking about recently, Merlan? Really! Is your memory so short?’

  Shan realised at once what Maycarpe meant. The warrior, the mystic, the bard. This was how he saw the three of them – the companions of the true king. ‘Magravandias,’ Shan said. ‘Recolletine. You want us to go to the seven lakes.’

  Maycarpe seemed surprised, if not disappointed, Shan had curtailed his game. He nodded. ‘Yes, that is my thought.’

  ‘I will never set foot in that country again,’ Tayven said, ‘and neither do I wish to become involved in any of your schemes.’

  ‘You are already involved,’ Maycarpe said, with uncharacteristic harshness. ‘Get used to it. You were involved from the day Almorante took you there, and bungled through the initiations in his ham-fisted, uninformed way. He has no patience or discipline to undertake the rigours of true magical training. He looks for the easy way.’

  ‘I’m not interested in your opinions of Almorante,’ Tayven said. ‘Whatever happened to me there was a long time ago. I’m not the same person.’ He paused. ‘Why do you want us to go there, anyway?’

  ‘He seeks to make a magical company of us,’ Merlan said coldly. ‘A brotherhood of worthy men.’ He laughed. ‘Very likely.’

  ‘For what reason?’ Tayven asked.

  ‘The lakes quest should be undertaken in the correct manner,’ Maycarpe said, ‘then you’ll have a chance of attaining the crown.’

  ‘The crown? It cannot be done,’ Tayven said.
‘It is a dream, and powerful as an idea only because it is not real.’

  ‘You don’t believe that,’ Maycarpe said smoothly. ‘That is only your bitterness talking. You try so hard to extinguish the light in yourself, but it is a fruitless task. This surly exterior you present is merely a conceit. You are who you are, Tayven. I’m not impressed by the dramatics.’

  Shan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I hardly think you have the right to say that.’

  ‘Save your pity,’ Maycarpe said. ‘Tayven is tougher than you might believe. He knows what I’m saying is right. Don’t you, Tayven?’

  ‘I will not return to Recolletine, not for anyone.’

  ‘You are very proud,’ Maycarpe said. ‘You think you’re the only person fit to wield that power in this cruel and uncertain world. You regard yourself as its guardian, its protector, but you’re not. You are its initiate, one of them. You cannot shirk that responsibility.’

  ‘There’s little point to this,’ Tayven said. ‘What good would the Crown do us if we had it? Who is fit to wear it? No one. Not in this world, this time. It belongs to a more enlightened age. It should stay there and exist only in our reality as a legend.’

  ‘Shan thinks he’s fit to wear it,’ Maycarpe said.

  ‘I don’t!’ Shan exclaimed.

  Tayven shook his head. ‘This is just another of your games, Maycarpe. I won’t play.’

  ‘We already have two of the dragon artefacts,’ Maycarpe said. ‘The third I believe is to be found at the lakes. I want you to retrieve it, Tayven, and more. I want you to reach the seventh lake, attain the crown. I know you can.’

  ‘But why should I?’

  ‘Because it is your destiny. You began the quest, but were too young and guided by fools. The universe does not blame you for your failure. You may try again.’

  Tayven scowled. ‘It has all left me. My innocence and idealism were shattered.’ He glanced at Merlan. ‘What has he got to do with this?’

  ‘He must assume the mantle left cold on the battlefield by his brother.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Some years ago, I asked you to find Khaster Leckery, for his name came to me often. I believe now I was slightly mistaken. Merlan, undamaged, whole and healthy, is the Leckery who must become the mystic of the brotherhood. He will wield the Eye of the Dragon.’