Tymall was not offended; his past explained the question. “Father, you brought me my son, as you promised. I would give you my word on whatever you ask, and stand by it.”
“I accept that. Swear you will not leave Digilan.”
Tymall rocked back in his seat, staring up. “What, in the Goddess’ name, are you planning?”
“First swear.”
Without breaking the contact, “I swear not to leave Digilan.” Then he stood, saying, “I could not endure the sorrow of separation from your realm again and remain who I am. I cannot go back, I just can’t.”
“I know.”
“What is your suggestion, damn it; the tension is killing me.”
“I am thinking of taking Maple back, to use as a messenger between Digilan and wherever I am.”
Absolute silence arrived, and then, “There would be a doorway, a danger we shouldn’t have to deal with on top of everything else.”
“You disagree?”
Tymall barked a laugh. “I want it so much I don’t trust myself to remain objective.”
“He could return to tell you who is Vallorin.”
“I know! Damn it, I know. How?”
Torrullin paced away. “There won’t be a doorway, for I can negotiate temporal passage for him via the Syllvan of Reaume. He would travel only at their behest, and, trust me, if they suspect foul play, he is a dead man. Not even Digilan will get him back if they pass judgement.”
Tymall blinked. “I hear you.”
“Singular passage. Only he gets through.”
“Can it be done?”
“The Syllvan won’t say no to me.”
Tymall paced. “Any creature in Digilan will leap at this opportunity - he won’t fight it.” He frowned. “Or would he?”
“We could ask.”
“Why not command?”
“He must want this or the Syllvan will punish him the first time he requests passage.”
“What of danger to him elsewhere? This will mean great envy for many, particularly here.”
“I believe he is capable of looking after himself, but, to set your mind at rest, he will be under my protection. Anyone who messes with him, there or here, deals with Elixir.”
“You have been thinking on this some, haven’t you?”
“I have. He gave me his name to use, Ty, and that kind of soul is able to read nuances. You trust him, I trust him, and the Syllvan will look him over and likely find trust also. It can be done.”
“Why, then, is it a potential mistake?”
“Information passing could prove unhealthy.”
“For?”
“You. What if Tian is in trouble and you hear of it?”
“Therefore my promise. You are going on a journey; who will look after Tian’s affairs?”
“Tian.”
“What if he isn’t Vallorin?”
“Life goes on. Do you understand why I am wary of a messenger mechanism?”
“Of course I do, but if you are gone, how would you use the Tracloc?”
“He comes with me.”
“The Syllvan can bridge the time?”
“Yes, once they know where I am.”
“I would not then receive news of Tian.”
Torrullin smiled. “I have been thinking some, remember?”
Tymall’s his brow cleared. “I see! He will be go-between for you also. You keep tabs on Valaris at the same time. Maple will travel three realms.”
“Exactly.”
“Brilliant!”
“Would you like to get him up here?”
Tymall slapped his thighs. “You are actually going to do it.”
“If he is willing.”
“He would be a fool otherwise.”
THE PROPOSAL WAS LAID out and Maple stared at Torrullin. “This is a serious suggestion?”
“It is.”
“Well?” Tymall demanded.
The Tracloc reached up to pull the turban away from his mouth. A well-defined pair of lips emerged, and smiling white teeth. “I say yes.”
“Excellent!” Tymall slapped the man’s back.
Torrullin was more serious. “Tell nobody. Return now to your quarters and gather your gear, then meet us on the bridge an hour after daylight.”
Maple covered his mouth. “What of my replacement?”
“I shall name him. Your absence will be explained, as well as the likelihood of periodic return.”
Maple rose and bowed. “On the bridge, then.” He paused. “And thank you.” He left.
Tymall sighed. “An hour after daylight?”
“Yes.”
“Not enough. Not near enough.”
“Ty, come here. I am gifting you a few hours more energy and then go wake your son. You and me, we will soon be talking via a go-between.”
Tymall accepted the gift. “You are not going to tell him of this arrangement, are you?”
“Safer all round if it’s kept between the three of us.”
Tymall headed for the door, where he paused. “Thank you.”
“It isn’t the same as seeing you, son, but this way the parting isn’t final.”
A smile. “I can live with this.”
ONLY GUARDS STOOD AT the portcullis and Tymall commanded them to face inward or he would have their lives.
On the bridge, with the swirling mists beckoning, were Tymall, Tianoman and Torrullin.
Maple had already bowed to the Warlock and put distance between him and the palace. He waited near the edge of the mist with a small holdall.
Tianoman’s eyes were puffy; he cried a great deal during the night. Tymall’s was stark, pleading for a change in the fates.
Torrullin was calm. He gripped his son to him, kissed his cheek and stepped away.
Tymall, in turn, pulled Tianoman close and held him long without words. “It is time to go, son.”
Tianoman looked from one father to another and then Torrullin had a hold of him. “Come.”
Tianoman balked and Tymall swallowed. He touched Tianoman a final time on his cheek, glanced desperately at Torrullin, and then strode away without looking back.
“Father!”
Tymall’s stride broke, but he did not stop. He was soon lost to view.
“Come,” Torrullin said gently and guided his grandson away.
He wished he could guide him away from heartache also. He wished he knew how to ignore his own.
They joined Maple and soon the mist swallowed them.
Chapter 40
New factors to add in … the universe sighs with me.
~ Arc, poet
Valaris
ONCE BACK ON VALARIS and without leaving the area of their return, Torrullin summoned Quilla from Luvanor.
The birdman came without delay. He eyed the Tracloc and knew him. He looked Tianoman over; the young man was suffering.
“You kept your word.”
“Quilla, take Maple to the villa and keep him under wraps until I send for you.”
Quilla glanced at the Tracloc. “I assume you have good reason.”
“I do. Outfit him.”
“Are you sure about this?”
“Quilla. Yes.”
“Jonas and Erin are at the villa.”
“Tell them to move to the Dome. You need cover him one day.”
Quilla shrugged. He did not like the situation, but he would not argue yet. “Well, then come - Maple, right?”
Maple bowed. “And I may call you Quilla?”
“That would be my name.” He glanced at Tianoman, squinted at Torrullin, and then the two were gone.
Tianoman appeared to notice little; he seemed lost. He would remember soon enough and that was dangerous for the young man. Torrullin touched his arm as if to draw his attention and, in doing so, removed memory of Maple’s arrival on Valaris. Later, once the Vallorinship was secure, memory would return. Tianoman would notice the periodic presence of a Tracloc; he would put two and two together, and reveal nothing. Tymall had a p
lace in his heart now.
“Tian, let’s get to the Keep.”
A nod, a sigh.
Torrullin stepped close and lifted his chin. “It hurts, but you have in your memories moments and experiences to treasure.”
“Maybe.”
“Trust me.”
Tianoman’s face pulled skew. “I do.”
He began to gasp and Torrullin pulled him close and held him, the comfort of proximity the only tool he had at this point.
He allowed Tianoman to sob it out without judgement.
Torrke
FRANTIC PREPARATIONS WERE underway, but this time there were serious undertones, less hilarity and frivolity in both humour of staff and the tasks they performed.
Flowers made way for the formal accruements. The hangings from the balcony were sober, depicting historic scenes. The aisle carpet was laid in Valla blue from Dragon doors in a straight line to the foot of where the Throne would arise. The reception room where the Throne would be was cleared of furniture and adornments and the Valla emblem displayed on the far wall - a leaping dragon, blue upon gold.
The mosaic pool was planked over to afford room for guests and this time there would be standing room only. The site of the feast was set up east of the Keep on level ground and massive pavilion tents were raised. Food and drink arrived, a logistical nightmare, and guests and dignitaries came in also, a greater dilemma for the Elders. These guests included heads of state, ambassadors, kings and queens, and almost every settled world was represented.
Torrullin, arriving with Tianoman, searched out Tristan and Teroux, sensing them in his study. They appeared to be hiding, both tense.
He had to do something to ease their minds.
Valla Manor in Menllik was fit to burst a roof truss, it was that full, and the Palace out west would be no better. In fact, there probably was not a space in Menllik, Galilan or Gasmoor that was not over-filled. The spaceports were busy and roads and railways choked with travellers. In a sense, they came for more than a new Vallorin; they came to see Elixir.
The heirs would be useless on the morrow and Tianoman, particularly, required space to recover in.
Tristan, Teroux, join us at the Dragon doors.
It was only a moment and then two fair heads leaned over the balcony wall. A moment after they hastened down the stairs.
Both men were welcoming, but Tianoman’s expression bade them swallow smiles.
“We go to Akhavar until the ceremony commences tomorrow,” Torrullin said.
All three nodded.
Vanar?
My Lord?
The heirs will be on Akhavar, with me.
Good. This is a stressful period.
Agreed. Have their attire sent over.
It will be done. My Lord, thank you. I was worried.
Trust a grandfather to be sensitive, Vanar. Till the morrow.
Till the morrow. There was a smile in Vanar’s sending.
“Come.” Torrullin herded them out. “I am enveloping you into my signature and will transport you.”
Again, only nods.
Torrullin took them away.
Akhavar
HE TOOK THEM FIRST to the great plains of emerald grasses, where the silence held birdsong and snuffles, where the breeze sang a song and soothed.
Tristan grinned first. He sauntered away and then threw his arms up, crying to the heavens and releasing tension to the wide spaces.
Teroux laughed and ran through the grass.
Tianoman stared at them and gulped in huge mouthfuls of air. He gazed around him as if awakening from a nightmare. He breathed more and then lay on his back to stare at the blueness of a free sky. A tear slid from the corner of one eye, but calm came, and acceptance.
Torrullin wandered away and lifted his gaze to the west where the mighty rocks held the oldest surviving Valleur habitat. He could discern the ledge, a faint smudge against the ancient stone. Where Elianas returned. Where Saska worked a miracle. Where Lowen vanished?
Lowen, where are you?
She also gazed on that smudge. Somewhere she called to him as time took her. He felt her presence as he had not felt it in a long while.
Tianoman was at his side. “You got suddenly weird.”
“I am fine.”
“This was a good idea, coming here.”
“Feeling better?” Torrullin smiled.
“Better than at the Keep, I think.”
“Spend time with your cousins - tell them about Digilan.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to, or it will fester. They are closest to you, they will listen and understand. They have lost fathers.”
“I guess. You want to be alone,” Tianoman understood. “I am here for you as you were for me.”
“Thank you.”
If only it were that simple. Not only had thoughts of Lowen intruded, which he was not about to share, but also the reality of the approaching journey.
He walked, putting distance in place. Smells were poignant, sights precious. How long would it be this time? At least he did not have Margus as a factor and he would not be alone. Absence might be easier to bear under those conditions. He had factored Maple in; a mistake in the long term, maybe, and yet it went a long way in negating ignorance.
Torrullin shivered. How would Elianas regard the Tracloc?
He tried not to think about Elianas.
Torrullin checked on the cousins and saw them together. Tianoman was talking, and Tristan and Teroux listened. That was the best cure. It would take the edge of Tianoman’s heartache, for the other two would share the burden. He at least did that right. Tasking Samuel with their upbringing was his most brilliant achievement.
He walked on without apparent purpose. His thoughts went round and around as he attempted to find the pattern in the puzzle that spoke of a Three and a Four. Seven in all …
Half of fourteen.
Torrullin swung back to stare at Nemisin’s mountain. Fourteen. There had to be fourteen in the party or it would fail from the outset. A tunnel through the spaces between worlds, bridging time, required every inherent magical concept to meander it safely. Fourteen was intrinsic. Fourteen started Infinity’s game, because the magic was needed to unleash Vannis from entombment. As Lowen was now entombed, in a manner of speaking.
He swore as certainty built block upon block, causing a flat puzzle to take on dimensions, shape, form … sound.
Yes, Nemisin’s rock whispered of three, four and seven.
Gods, surely not? The Four Ancients, the Three of a singular kingdom. Not three kingdoms; three of a kingdom. Bound together, because the Throne would not choose between them?
Three, Four and Seven companions.
Elianas, companion to Elixir. Declan, companion to Quilla. Maple, companion to Sabian, which made twisted sense. The Tracloc would watch Sabian closely.
If fate ruled the three heirs exit this realm, who were their companions? Caballa for Tristan? Given she had a vision regarding him - yes. Saska for Tianoman? Her mothering instincts, a chance to overturn past transgression, an opportunity to lay the ghost of Tymall to rest through his son - any one, any combination or all three were valid. Saska for Tianoman.
Where did this lead? He heard the stones sing in cadence to his thoughts, as if confirming everything.
That left Teroux and Teighlar. Teighlar had no doubt chosen a Senlu to accompany him, as witness to a historic event - probably Dechend, an excellent choice. Teroux? An Elder? No, it did not fit. A flower? What flower? A rose - Rose. The farspeaker who confused. A woman-child with a womaniser. Even that made sense.
However, what to do about the Valleur? With a coronation due? With the entire universe camping out on Valaris?
Bloody Akhavar. He should have taken them somewhere else. Yes, said his inner voice, and then? Fail before you begin?
All this for Lowen?
No, the stones replied. All this because ancient wrongs require redress, in another time, a parallel where ne
w answers to old crimes cannot affect this reality.
Gods.
It made sense.
At last it made terrible sense.
TORRULLIN ALLOWED MATTERS to take their course. For once he possessed foreknowledge, and did nothing with it.
The fourteen new Elders of Akhavar welcomed the Vallas and they met the other residents, all of whom had only good news to share about Saska. Some of the women, Torrullin noted, looked at him as if he were a bug that deserved squashing - the judgement of universal sisterhood. They took a tour of the mountain city, with Tianoman now chatting incessantly, until Torrullin nearly shouted at him to shut up.
Then, mercifully, the evening meal was behind them and it was time for bed. The sleeping quarters were rudimentary, but a bed was a bed when one was exhausted. Tianoman was asleep so swiftly it smacked of his state of mind. He sought oblivion and found it the natural way.
Torrullin, alone in a room, discovered sleep elusive.
After two fruitless hours he took himself to the Syllvan, there to negotiate temporal passage for Maple with the Gatekeepers of Reaume. They granted reluctant blessing on condition they retained power of judgement, which eminently suited him. He desired every safeguard at his disposal. He then informed the tree-like creatures of his discovery and had his suspicions confirmed.
Yes, they concurred, there was a way to ask for and receive atonement beyond the confines of time, and, no, it would not impact on accepted reality. Did he need a complement of fourteen, he asked, and was informed if he desired optimum outcome, yes.
The Syllvan operated on a questions and answer system. Ask a question and an answer would be given. Ask nothing and nothing would be given, and thus he asked something more.
Would the Throne choose a Vallorin?
It depended on Elianas.
What did that mean?
Only Elianas could answer.
Nearly tearing his hair out in frustration, Torrullin asked, had he judged correctly in aiding Elianas to autonomy?
No, said one, and, yes, said another, and, maybe, yet another. It was not an answer and Torrullin left the Gatekeepers to their cryptic ways.
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 41