Taropat glanced at Tayven. ‘That is perhaps an over-estimation, but events do seem to be moving in a certain direction, yes.’
‘What are your intentions, Taropat?’ Sinaclara asked. ‘Tayven is here for a reason, of course, and Shan will have sent him.’
Tayven fully expected Taropat to evade the answer, but he spoke openly. ‘We are going to Recolletine in Magravandias.’
‘Good,’ said Sinaclara. ‘I’m glad events are moving along. You will seek the crown there, naturally.’
‘We shall endeavour to complete the Seven Lakes quest and see what happens,’ Taropat said. ‘As to whether mythical artefacts are involved or not, we’ll have to see.’
‘It is not a myth, Taropat,’ said Sinaclara firmly. ‘The crown is real and will be bestowed upon the right person.’
‘The king,’ said Taropat. ‘And who is king?’
For the first time, Sinaclara hesitated. ‘There will be one,’ she said.
‘I’ve a feeling you already know who it is,’ Tayven said, looking her directly in the eye. ‘Or at least have your own hopes on the matter.’
Sinaclara shrugged. ‘It is not important, as yet. Tell me what has happened in Cos. I have heard rumours, picked up images.’
Tayven related what he knew.
‘This is wonderful news,’ Sinaclara said.
‘Really?’ Tayven said. ‘Most people think otherwise.’
‘But it shows the Dragon Lord is becoming what he should be,’ she said. ‘The events in Caradore worked.’
‘What events?’ Taropat asked sharply.
‘Your brother knows,’ Sinaclara said, ‘but has obviously been bound to silence. That is for the best.’
‘What events?’ Taropat repeated.
‘Valraven went back to Old Caradore,’ Sinaclara said. ‘He woke the dragon queen. In some part, his heritage has been restored to him.’
‘That is impossible,’ Taropat said.
‘It happened,’ Sinaclara said. ‘The empress Tatrini instigated it. She has her own plans for the future.’
‘I haven’t heard of this. How long have you known.’
‘A short while,’ she said.
‘What are the implications?’
‘It is perhaps the first move in a great change. Caradore is precious to the empire and has been kept in chains too long. A few of those chains have been loosened. Valraven waits, as do we all, for the time to act.’
‘This is not good news,’ Taropat said. ‘He will not want what any of us wants. I’d prefer to have him merely as a component of Leonid’s military. It will not help us if Palindrake acts independently. He is a slur upon his family’s heritage.’
‘He is married to Leonid’s daughter,’ Sinaclara said. ‘Perhaps this helps you work out the connections.’
‘Does he know of the Crown? If he does, he’ll want it.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Sinaclara said.
‘Then we must act quickly,’ Tayven said. He felt as if Sinaclara had kicked him in the face. The information she’d revealed suddenly made sense of many things, not least his own feelings since meeting the Dragon Lord in Cos. Palindrake had changed, then.
‘Didn’t you know any of this?’ Taropat asked Tayven.
‘I heard in Akahana that he married Princess Varencienne a few years ago,’ Tayven answered as lightly as he could. ‘It was a political marriage, I believe. At the time, it seemed of little consequence.’
‘It is of consequence,’ Sinaclara said. ‘I have no doubt the empress arranged it.’
Taropat shook his head, smiling grimly. ‘So, he married again. I wonder what his lovely sister thinks of that. The princess must be a feisty creature to survive the wedding.’
‘Quite,’ said Sinaclara. ‘As she’s her mother’s daughter, I imagine she has her own agenda too.’ She leaned forward over the table. ‘You must secure the Crown as soon as you can. When you have it, bring it to me.’
‘Why?’ Taropat asked.
‘Because, one day, I shall crown the true king,’ she answered simply. ‘It is my destiny.’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Anyway,’ Sinaclara continued, ‘it must be safely hidden and where better than here in Breeland? I will be its custodian until the correct time. The forest itself will hide and protect it.’
‘That makes sense,’ Taropat said, a remark which surprised Tayven.
‘I am relieved you agree,’ Sinaclara said. ‘Now, I wish to speak to you concerning a private matter.’ She glanced at Tayven and Nip. ‘Would you excuse us?’
Outside, Tayven asked the girl: ‘What’s all that about?’
She merely rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t ask. They’ll probably never tell us. It’s just their way.’ She paused, then said, ‘I miss Shan. Don’t suppose I’ll ever see him again.’
‘You don’t know that,’ Tayven said. ‘I never thought I’d seec Taropat again either.’
Nip gazed at him shrewdly. ‘Shan told me about you.’
He grimaced. ‘A common feature of my life.’
‘You look a bit like him.’
‘I’ve been told.’
‘Fancy a walk?’
‘Might as well.’ They went together into the forest. Shan had lived here, in close proximity to Taropat every day. Tayven felt a barb in his heart. Jealousy.
Sinaclara and Taropat conversed for several hours, and it was late afternoon by the time, the Lady emerged from the house and summoned Nip to accompany her home. Tayven went inside and found Taropat sitting at the table. He appeared to be deep in thought. ‘What did you and the Lady talk about?’ Tayven asked.
‘She had advice about our quest, that’s all,’ Taropat replied. ‘She likes to interfere.’
‘Do you trust her? Shan told me of your difficulties with her.’
‘Whatever my personal feelings, she is part of the web,’ Taropat said. ‘And therefore part of all that we do. Before we leave, I must also speak to Thremius. What I have heard today worries me.’
‘If we have the crown, be it knowledge, power or physical artefact, we will have the upper hand,’ Tayven said.
‘Mmm,’ murmured Taropat. ‘I am concerned about Palindrake, though. The thought of having to compete with him for the artefact is not a happy one. I don’t want a confrontation.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Tayven said airily. ‘Palindrake is ultimately nothing, a lackey to the empire. Tatrini is playing with him, trying to woo him away from Gastern. If he falls for that, he’s more stupid than I thought.’ He did not believe a word of what he’d said.
‘Even the strongest of men can be rendered witless and stupid when a particularly luscious carrot is dangled before them,’ Taropat said grimly, ‘namely the carrot of power, or the promise of it.’
‘Perhaps, although despite my feelings towards Palindrake, I always thought him above such shenanigans.’
‘Don’t try to find anything good in that man,’ Taropat said sharply. ‘Remember, he could have saved you in Cos. He is a monster, Bayard’s creature.’
Tayven sighed. ‘Who can tell what really takes place in a human mind or heart? We shouldn’t even bother trying to guess, but just get on with what we have to do.’
Taropat became very still for a moment, then he spoke. ‘We are doing the right thing. I can feel it. We can make a difference.’
‘After all this time, we’ve reached a place,’ Tayven said, ‘a strange and wondrous place. It began in The Soak of Magrast, the lowest of places, the primordial slime. We have evolved out of it.’
‘But we must guard against arrogance, against pride.’
‘Such things, in moderation, can be strengths. They give courage and spirit.’
‘They can be weaknesses too. Remember, it was you who told me to dance on both sides of the coin.’
Merlan was walking by the Temple of Purryah in the early evening, and was compelled to enter the outer shrine. The wind had changed direction, and blew warm and scented from the sea.
It was bringing something to Akahana, something important. Merlan’s heart was filled with a strange melancholy; the sunset itself moved him to tears. Images, thoughts and emotions from the past pressed down upon him, making him face things he’d buried deep. He had to escape the heaviness in the air and the temple promised a tranquil sanctuary.
There were no priestesses in the shrine, so Merlan knelt before the cult statue of the goddess, his mind too full of thoughts to form a coherent petition. He knew that his brother had arrived in Akahana. Had he and Tayven resumed their relationship? He dreaded meeting Khaster, or Taropat as he was now called, yet at the same time he yearned for it. Maycarpe had trained him well, and he knew, as well as Tayven did, how to survive in the supple, duplicitous web of cabals that was a network around the world. Yet he had knowledge that not even Tayven had. Maycarpe would never let Tayven know he wanted Valraven Palindrake to be king of Magravandias. Shan would balk against such a suggestion and as for Khasterc Taropat, his reaction was not difficult to guess. And there was more: knowledge that Merlan had believed he’d take to his grave, for only one person should know it, a person he’d believed to be dead. Palindrake had confessed it to Merlan, perhaps to absolve himself, perhaps to justify himself, but whatever the reason he’d made it clear he wanted no one but Merlan to know it – ever. Merlan had sworn an oath. If he revealed this knowledge, wouldn’t it change the way Tayven and Taropat felt about the Dragon Lord? Wouldn’t it sway them towards Maycarpe’s designs? If it had been anyone else but Palindrake, Merlan would have revealed what he knew, but he was afraid of the Dragon Lord, sure in his heart that the moment he spoke Valraven would know.
He cast a few grains of incense into a bowl of smouldering charcoals at the feet of the goddess. ‘Purryah, let your daughter Merytet stand beside me. Guide my tongue, guide my heart.’ He clasped his hands together and pressed them against his forehead. A rushing sound started up in his ears that resolved itself into the music of many cats purring. His whole body ached with knowledge. He felt he should write to his mother and sisters to tell them Khaster lived, yet if he did that they would want to see him, and Merlan sensed that was not possible. Was it better to let them continue to believe he was dead? When he saw Khaster, he wanted to tell him about Pharinet, how she had suffered, how she had been used by the Malagashes. Yet would Pharinet want Khaster to know that? He wanted to tell Khaster about Varencienne, how her marriage to Valraven was loveless, that she was obsessed by a man she believed to be dead, how Khaster had been her guiding spirit through all that had transpired in Caradore following her wedding. Varencienne, of all of them, would want to know Khaster lived. In Merlan’s opinion, she was the only Malagash fit to wield power in the future. The urge to contact her was overwhelmingly great, not just to be a bearer of news she wanted to hear, but to have an excuse to maintain contact. Merlan had not seen her since the empress Tatrini had persuaded them to go to Old Caradore and reawaken the dragon queen. He’d not dared to return home, even though his mother’s plaintive letters tore at his heart.
‘Purryah, you told me my brother would return,’ Merlan murmured, his body rocking upon his heels. ‘You spoke truly to me. Speak to me now, for I need your guidance.’
But for the hum in his ears, the temple was silent. No priestess melted out of the shadows to whisper wisdom to him. Yet, despite this, Merlan did not feel he was alone. An idea came to him, and he was unsure of the motivation behind it. He must not let Khaster go to Magravandias without him. Maycarpe might have his perfect trinity, but Merlan felt there was some unseen factor the governor hadn’t thought of. Merlan might not have an archetypal role in what was to come, but he had a purpose. He would insist on his place.
‘Thank you,’ he murmured and got to his feet. On the way from the temple, he made a generous donation to the priest by the door. The old man offered no thanks. His face remained expressionless.
By the time Merlan reached the governmental building, he already knew what he’d find there. Sure enough, a group of people was waiting for him in Maycarpe’s sitting room. ‘We wondered where you’d got to,’ Maycarpe said, but Merlan did not respond. He was staring at the man sitting across the room, a man who now got to his feet.
‘I knew you’d be here,’ Merlan said, with difficulty. ‘I have visited the temple of Purryah. She’s become something of a goddess of mine.’
‘Merlan,’ said the man, a single word full of feeling.
‘Khas.’ Merlan crossed the room and embraced his brother. ‘I dared not believe it, yet I knew it to be true.’
‘You must realise that in many respects your brother is dead. I am Taropat, Merlan. That is the name you must call me by.’
Merlan drew away. ‘Say what you like. I know what my eyes behold, what my heart feels.’
Taropat smiled. ‘As you will. You look well, brother. You have fulfilled the potential that smouldered in Magrast.’
‘I’m not sure about that,’ Merlan said. ‘But I enjoy living here. I have learned much.’
‘So it would seem.’ Taropat sat down and gestured for Merlan to sit beside him. It was only then that Merlan became fully aware that Tayven and Shan were also present. Tayven’s face was hard, yet Shan had clearly been moved by the Leckery reunion. Even Maycarpe was smiling benignly.
‘So the cat goddess spoke to you again,’ Maycarpe said.
‘Not exactly,’ Merlan answered. ‘I just sensed that Khas was here.’ He turned to his brother. ‘Sorry. Calling you by a different name will take some getting used to.’
Taropat shrugged. ‘Remember in public, that’s all.’
‘Is it to remain a secret forever?’ Merlan asked. ‘What of our family?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Taropat replied. ‘My only concern at present is to undertake the quest of the Seven Lakes. Once that is resolved, I will make decisions concerning the family.’
‘I wish I could send at least some word to our mother, let her know even a partial truth.’
‘She would never keep it to herself, you know she wouldn’t.’
‘It seems cruel to keep her in the dark. She’s never stopped grieving for you.’
‘She has to be shielded from certain truths,’ Taropat said.
Merlan could not help glancing at Tayven Hirantel. ‘You are right,’ he said, then to Maycarpe. ‘Even though you have your trinity, I want to go with them to Recolletine.’
‘I am relieved to hear it,’ Maycarpe said. ‘The fact is, I need you to go.’
Merlan was puzzled, having expected an argument. ‘Why?’
‘As assistant to the governor in Mewt, you can move freely through Magravandian territory. I will furnish you with the relevant papers and seals. The others will pose as your servant and guards.’
‘You won’t have to take part in the actual quest,’ Tayven said.
‘I’m just as capable as you are of visiting ancient sites and meditating there,’ Merlan said coldly. ‘It’s not that difficult.’
‘There may be unexpected results,’ Maycarpe said.
‘You trained me,’ Merlan reminded him.
Chapter Twenty: Lake of the Red Knight
The company arrived in Magravandias to the soaring splendours of the terrain in high summer. Shan was awed by the grandeur of the great roads, with their crenellated guard stations and the avenues of high poles from which enormous banners flapped, bearing the firedrake crest of the Malagashes.
Merlan, equipped with diplomatic documents, was able to lead the party across every boundary, every border. They rode the King’s Highway to the north west, Taropat posing as Merlan’s clerk, while Tayven and Shan took the roles of security escort. Shan could tell that both Taropat and Tayven were jittery to be back on Magravandian soil. What memories this return must invoke in them. As the road began to climb into the mountains, it skirted the city of Magrast by twenty or so miles. Shan saw its huge, sprawling bulk below them, the spiky towers of the alchemists’ quarter, the great domes and minarets of Madragore’s cathedral. Mer
lan pointed out the royal palace, clearly visible in its vast cradle of parkland. ‘That is where Varencienne grew up,’ he said. ‘The princess, Leonid’s only daughter.’
‘Now mistress of Caradore,’ said Taropat with some bitterness. ‘It’s a travesty!’
Shan noticed that Merlan coloured a little. ‘You shouldn’t judge her. You don’t know her. She’s a singular person, different from her kin.’
Taropat gave his brother a shrewd glance. ‘And which part of the body speaks through you, Merlan?’
‘My heart,’ Merlan answered smoothly. ‘I know Varencienne quite well. She has done much to heal the hurts of Caradore.’
Perhaps that remark was a little pointed. Shan winced inwardly, while Taropat merely looked away. He didn’t want to hear it. He wanted Caradore and her people to hurt for eternity.
A day later they had reached the foothills of the mountains. The holiday lodges of noble families were concealed among the huge and ancient trees, their tiered peaked roofs visible through the foliage like enormous widows’ caps. Shan had never seen such beautiful scenery. Breeland was green and lush, with spreading fields and haunted forests, but nothing matched the fierce splendour of the raw mountain crags of Magravandias. The greens here were acidic, aching. Water gushed from precipices all around, and the air rang with the eerie, mournful cries of wide-winged birds of prey high above. The area seemed to have been designed as a playground for the gods. Natural rock formations looked like ancient temples, while ancient temples looked like natural rock. The wind had made sculptures of the cliffs, which were a warren of caves and precipitous walk ways. Shan saw a narrow bridge of rock spanning a great chasm, and Tayven told him it was not manmade. ‘It was used as a place of worship and sacrifice in antiquity,’ he said. ‘People were thrown from it to the sharp scree below. You can still find bones there and artefacts, jewellery and such like.’
There was so much to explore. Shan felt the child rise in his soul. He wanted to investigate every feature he saw, but there was no time. This was not a holiday.
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