The Shining Ones

by David Eddings

  ‘Itagne!’ Oscagne said sharply. ‘Mind your manners!’

  ‘We’re here to advise the Emperor, brother mine, not to coddle him. Oh, incidentally, Oscagne, when you sent me to Cynestra, you invested me with plenipotentiary powers, didn’t you? We can check over my commission, if you like, but I’m fairly sure I had that kind of authority – I usually do. I hope you don’t mind, old boy, but I’ve concluded a couple of alliances along the way.’ He paused. ‘Well,’ he amended, ‘Sparhawk did all the real work, but my commission put some slight stain of legality on the business.’

  ‘You can’t do that without consulting Matherion first, Itagne!’ Oscagne’s face was turning purple.

  ‘Oh, be serious, Oscagne. All I did was seize some opportunities which presented themselves, and I was hardly in a position to tell Sparhawk what he could or couldn’t do, now, was I? I had things more or less under control in Cynestra when Sparhawk and his friends dropped by. We left Cynestra, and…’

  ‘Details, Itagne. What did you do in Cynestra?’

  Itagne sighed. ‘You can be so tedious at times, Oscagne. I found out that Ambassador Taubel was in bed with Kanzad, the Interior Ministry’s station-chief. They had King Jaluah pretty much dancing to their tune.’

  Oscagne’s face went bleak. ‘Taubel’s defected to Interior?’

  ‘I thought I just said that. You might want to run a quick evaluation of your other embassies, too. Interior Minister Kolata’s been very busy. Anyway, I threw Taubel and Kanzad – along with the entire police force and most of the embassy staff – into a dungeon, declared martial law, and put the Atan garrison in charge.’

  ‘You did what?’

  ‘I’ll write you a report about it one of these days. You know me well enough to know that I had justification.’

  ‘You exceeded your authority, Itagne.’

  ‘You didn’t impose any limitations on me, old boy. That gave me carte blanche. All you said was to have a look around and to do what needed to be done, so I did.’

  ‘How did you persuade the Atans to go along with you without written authorization?’

  Itagne shrugged. ‘The commander of the Atan garrison there is a fairly young woman – quite attractive, actually, in a muscular sort of way. I seduced her. She was an enthusiastic seducee. Believe me, Oscagne, she’ll do absolutely anything for me.’ He paused. ‘You might want to make a note of that in my file – something about my willingness to make sacrifices for the Empire and all that. I didn’t give her total free rein, though. The dear child wanted to give me the heads of Taubel and Kanzad as tokens of her affection, but I declined. My rooms at the university are cluttered enough already, so I don’t really have the space for stuffed trophies on the walls. I told her to lock them up instead and to keep a firm grip on King Jaluah until Taubel’s replacement arrived. You needn’t hurry with that appointment, my brother. I have every confidence in her.’

  ‘You’ve set back relations with Cynesga by twenty years, Itagne.’

  ‘What relations?’ Itagne snorted. ‘The Cynesgans respond only to naked force, so that’s what I used on them.’

  ‘You spoke of alliances, Itagne,’ Sarabian said, flicking the tip of his rapier. ‘Just exactly to whom have you committed my undying trust and affection?’

  ‘I was just coming to that, your Majesty. After we left Cynestra, we went on to Delphaeus. We spoke with their chieftain, the Anari – a very old man named Cedon – and he offered his assistance. Sparhawk’s going to take care of our side of the bargain, so there’s no cost to the Empire involved.’

  Oscagne shook his head. ‘It must come from our mother’s side of the family, your Majesty,’ he apologized. ‘There was an uncle of hers who was always a little strange.’

  ‘What are you talking about, Oscagne?’

  ‘My brother’s obvious insanity, your Majesty. I’m told that things like that are hereditary. Fortunately, I favor our father’s side of the family. Tell me, Itagne, are you hearing voices too? Do you have visions of purple giraffes?’

  ‘You can be so tiresome sometimes, Oscagne.’

  ‘Would you tell us what happened, Sparhawk?’ Sarabian asked.

  ‘Itagne covered it fairly well, your Majesty. I take it that you Tamuls have some reservations about the Shining Ones?’

  ‘No,’ Oscagne said, ‘I wouldn’t call them reservations, your Highness. How could we have any reservations about a people who don’t exist?’

  ‘This argument could go on all night,’ Kalten said. ‘Would you mind, Lady?’ he asked Xanetia, who sat quietly beside him with her head slightly bowed. ‘If you don’t show them who you are, they’ll wrangle for days.’

  ‘An it please thee, Sir Knight,’ she replied.

  ‘So formal, my dear?’ Sarabian smiled. ‘Here in Matherion, we only use that mode of speech at weddings, funerals, coronations and other mournful events.’

  ‘We have long been isolate, Emperor Sarabian,’ she replied, ‘and unmoved by the winds of fashion and the inconstant tides of usage. I do assure thee that we find no inconvenience in what must seem to thee forced archaism, for it cometh to our lips unbidden and is our natural mode of speech – upon such rare occasions when speech among us is even needful.’

  The door at the far end of the room opened, and Princess Danae, dragging Rollo behind her, entered quietly with Alean close behind her.

  Xanetia’s eyes widened, and her expression became awed.

  ‘She fell asleep,’ the little princess reported to her mother.

  ‘Is she all right?’ Ehlana asked.

  ‘Lady Sephrenia seemed very tired, your Majesty,’ Alean responded. ‘She bathed and went directly to bed. I couldn’t even interest her in any supper.’

  ‘It’s probably best to just let her sleep,’ Ehlana said. ‘I’ll look in on her later.’

  Emperor Sarabian had obviously taken advantage of the brief interruption to frame his thoughts in a somewhat studied archaism. ‘Verily,’ he said to Xanetia, ‘thy mode of speech doth fall prettily upon mine ear, Lady. In truth, however, thou hast been unkind to absent thyself from us, for thou art fair, and thine elegant mode of address would have added luster to our court. Moreover, thine eyes and thy gentle demeanor do shine forth from thee and would have provided instruction by ensample for they who are about me.’

  ‘Thy words are artfully honeyed, Majesty,’ Xanetia said, politely inclining her head, ‘and I do perceive that thou are a consummate flatterer.’

  ‘Say not so,’ he protested. ‘I do assure thee that I speak truly from mine heart.’ He was obviously enjoying himself.

  She sighed. ‘Thine opinion, I do fear me, will change when thou dost behold me in my true state. I have altered mine appearance as necessary subterfuge to avoid affrighting thy subjects. For, though it doth cause me grave distress to confess it, should thy people see me in mine accustomed state, they would flee, shrieking in terror.’

  ‘Canst thou truly inspire such fear, gentle maiden?’ he smiled. ‘I cannot give credence to thy words. In truth, methinks, shouldst thou appear on the streets of fire-domed Matherion, my subjects would indeed run – but not away from thee.’

  ‘That thou must judge for thyself, Majesty.’

  ‘Ah – before we proceed, might I inquire as to the state of your Majesty’s health?’ Itagne asked prudently.

  ‘I’m well, Itagne.’

  ‘No shortness of breath? No heaviness or twinges in your Majesty’s chest?’

  ‘I said that I’m healthy, Itagne,’ Sarabian snapped.

  ‘I certainly hope so, your Majesty. May I be permitted to present the Lady Xanetia, the Anarae of the Delphae?’

  ‘I think your brother’s right, Itagne. I think you’ve taken leave of – Good God!’ Sarabian was staring in open horror at Xanetia. Like the dye running out of a bolt of cheap cloth, the color was draining from her skin and hair, and the incandescent glow that had marked her before she had disguised it began to shine forth again. She rose to her feet, and Kal
ten stood up beside her.

  ‘Now is the stuff of thy nightmares made flesh, Sarabian of Tamuli,’ Xanetia said sadly. This is who I am and what I am. Thy servant Itagne hath told thee well and truly what transpired in fabled Delphaeus. I would greet thee in manner suitable to thy station, but like all the Delphae, I am outcast, and therefore not subject to thee. I am here to perform those services which devolve upon my people by reason of our pact with Anakha, whom thou has called Sparhawk of Elenia. Fear me not, Sarabian, for I am here to serve, not to destroy.’

  Mirtai, her face deathly pale, had risen to her feet. Purposefully, she stepped in front of her mistress and drew her sword. ‘Run, Ehlana,’ she said grimly. ‘I’ll hold her back.’

  ‘That is not needful, Mirtai of Atan,’ Xanetia told her. ‘As I said, I mean no harm to any in this company. Sheathe thy sword.’

  ‘I will, accursed one – in your vile heart!’ Mirtai raised her sword. Then, as if struck by some great blow, she reeled back and fell to the floor, tumbling over and over.

  Kring and Engessa reacted immediately, rushing forward and clawing at their sword-hilts.

  ‘I would not hurt them, Anakha,’ Xanetia warned Sparhawk, ‘but I must protect myself that I may keep faith with the pact between thee and my people.’

  ‘Put up your swords!’ Vanion barked. ‘The lady is a friend!’

  ‘But…’ Kring protested.

  ‘I said to put up your swords!’ Vanion’s roar was shattering, and Kring and Engessa stopped in their tracks.

  Sparhawk, however, saw another danger. Danae, her eyes bleak and her face set, was advancing on the Delphaeic woman. ‘Ah, there you are, Danae,’ he said, moving rather more quickly than his casual tone might have suggested. He intercepted the vengeful little princess. ‘Aren’t you going to give your poor old father a kiss?’ He swept her up into his arms and smothered her indignant outburst by mashing his lips to hers.

  ‘Put me down, Sparhawk!’ she said, speaking directly down his throat.

  ‘Not until you get a grip on your temper,’ he muttered, his mouth still clamped to hers.

  ‘She hurt Mirtai!’

  ‘No, she didn’t. Mirtai knows how to fall without getting hurt. Don’t do anything foolish here. You knew this was going to happen. Everything’s under control, so don’t get excited – and don’t, for God’s sake, let your mother find out who you really are.’

  ‘It doesn’t really talk!’ Ehlana interrupted Sparhawk’s account of what had taken place in Delphaeus.

  ‘Not by itself, no,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘It spoke through Kalten – well, it did the first time, anyway.’

  ‘Kalten?’

  ‘I have no idea why. Maybe it just seizes on whoever’s handy. The language it uses is archaic and profoundly formal – thee’s and thou’s and that sort of thing. Its speech is much like Xanetia’s, and it wants me to respond in kind. Evidently, the mode of speech is important.’ He rubbed one hand across his freshly shaved cheek. ‘It’s very strange, but as soon as I began to speak – and think – in twelfth-century Elenic, something seemed to open in my mind. For the first time, I knew that I was Anakha, and I knew that Bhelliom and I are linked together in some profoundly personal way.’ He smiled wryly. ‘It seems that you’re married to two different people, love. I hope you’ll like Anakha. He seems a decent enough sort – once you get used to the way he talks.’

  ‘Perhaps I should just go mad,’ she said. ‘That might be easier than trying to understand what’s going on. How many other strangers do you plan to bring to my bed tonight?’

  Sparhawk looked at Vanion. ‘Should I tell them about Sephrenia?’

  ‘You might as well,’ Vanion sighed. ‘They’ll find out about it soon enough anyway.’

  Sparhawk took his wife’s hands in his and looked into her gray eyes. ‘You’re going to have to be a little careful when you talk with Sephrenia, dear,’ he told her. ‘There’s an ancient enmity between the Delphae and the Styrics, and Sephrenia grows irrational whenever she’s around them. Xanetia has problems with the Styrics as well, but she manages to keep it under control better than Sephrenia does.’

  ‘Doth it seem so to thee, Anakha?’ Xanetia asked. She had resumed her disguise, more for the sake of the comfort of the others than out of any real need, Sparhawk guessed. Mirtai sat not far from her with watchful eyes and with her hand resting on her sword-hilt.

  ‘I’m not trying to be personally offensive, Anarae,’ he apologized. ‘I’m just trying to explain the situation so that they’ll understand when you and Sephrenia try to claw each other’s eyes out.’

  ‘I’m sure you’ve noticed my husband’s blinding charm, Anarae,’ Ehlana smiled. ‘Sometimes he absolutely overwhelms us with it.’

  Xanetia actually laughed. Then she looked at Itagne. ‘These Elenes are a complex people, are they not? I do detect great agility of thought behind this bluff manner of theirs, and subtleties I would not have expected from a people who tailor steel into garments.’

  Sparhawk leaned back in his chair. ‘I haven’t really covered everything that happened, but that’s enough to let you know in a general sort of way what we encountered. We can fill in more detail tomorrow. What’s been going on here?’

  ‘Politics, of course.’ Ehlana shrugged.

  ‘Don’t you ever get tired of politics?’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Sparhawk. Milord Stragen, why don’t you tell him? It shocks him when I start going into all the sordid details.’

  Stragen was once again dressed in his favorite white satin doublet. The blond thief was sunk deep in a chair with his feet up on a table. ‘That attempted coup – or whatever it was – was a serious blunder on the other side,’ he began. ‘It alerted us to the fact that there were more mundane elements involved in this business than hob-goblins and resurrected antiquities. We knew that Krager was involved – and Interior Minister Kolata – and that turned it into ordinary, garden-variety politics. We didn’t know where Krager was, so we decided to find out just how deeply Interior was infected. Since all policemen everywhere are compulsive about paperwork, we were fairly sure that somewhere in that rabbit warren of a building there was a set of files that would identify the people we wanted to talk with. The problem was that we couldn’t just walk into the ministry and demand to see their files without giving away the fact that we knew what they were up to, which in turn would have let them know that Kolata was our prisoner instead of a willing guest. Baroness Melidere came up with the idea of a new filing system, and that gave us access to all the files of all the ministries.’

  ‘It was dreadful,’ Oscagne shuddered. ‘We had to disrupt the entire government in order to conceal the fact that we were really only interested in the files at Interior. Milord Stragen and the Baroness put their heads together and concocted a system. It’s totally irrational and wildly inconsistent, but for some reason it works amazingly well. I can lay my hands on any given piece of paper in less than an hour.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Stragen continued, ‘we browsed around through the files at Interior for a week or so, but the people over there kept slipping back into the building at night to move things around so that we’d have to start all over again every morning. That’s when we decided to just move our operations out onto the lawns. We stripped all the paper out of all the buildings and spread it out on the grass. That inconvenienced the rest of the government enormously, but Interior was still holding out on us. They were still hiding the critical files. Caalador and I reverted to type and tried burglary – along with Mirtai. The queen sent her along to remind us that we were looking for paper rather than miscellaneous valuables, I guess. It took a few nights, but we finally found the hidden room where the files we wanted were concealed.’

  ‘Didn’t they miss them the next morning?’ Bevier asked him.

  ‘We didn’t take them, Sir Knight,’ Caalador told him. ‘The queen called in a young Pandion who used a Styric spell to bring the information back to the castle without physically removing
the documents.’ He grinned. ‘We got us all that there real incriminatin’ stuff, an’ they don’t know we got it. We stole it, an’ they don’t even miss it.’

  ‘We’ve got the name of every spy, every informer, every secret policeman and every conspirator of whatever rank Interior has in all of Tamuli,’ Sarabian smirked. ‘We’ve been waiting for all of you to come home so that we can take steps. I’m going to dissolve the Ministry of the Interior, round up all those people, and declare martial law. Betuana and I have been in close contact, and we’ve laid our plans very carefully. As soon as I give the word, the Atans are going to take charge of the entire Empire. Then I’ll really be the Emperor instead of just a stuffed toy.’

  ‘You’ve all been very busy,’ Vanion observed.

  ‘It makes the time go faster, my Lord.’ Caalador shrugged. ‘We went a little farther, though. Krager obviously knew that we were using the criminals of Matherion as spies, but we weren’t sure if he knew about the hidden government. If he thinks our organization’s localized, that’s not much of a problem; but if he knows that I can give the order here in Matherion, and somebody dies in Chyrellos, that’s a whole ‘nother thang.’

  ‘I’ve missed that dialect,’ Talen said. He considered it. ‘Not really very much, though,’ he added.

  ‘Critic,’ Caalador accused.

  ‘How much were you able to find out?’ Ulath asked him.

  Caalador spread one hand and rocked it back and forth doubtfully. ‘It’s sorta hord t’ say,’ he admitted. ‘They’s some places whur it iz ez them folks o’ ourn kin move around free ez frogs in a muddy pond. Other places, they can’t.’ He made a sour face. ‘It probably all boils down to natural talent. Some are gifted; some aren’t. We’ve made a little headway in putting names to some of the rabid nationalists in various parts of Tamuli – at least we think it’s headway. If Krager really knows what we’re doing, he could be feeding us false information. We wanted to wait until you came back before we tested the information we’ve got.’