Upon a Burning Throne

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Upon a Burning Throne Page 49

by Ashok K. Banker


  Vessa began to walk slowly along the crowd of patiently listening spectators as he continued. He carried his staff with ease, using it not to facilitate his own movements, but bearing it like a cudgel, a rod, a king’s scepter. His searing eyes took in every face, every person present, shining like a light of Krushan law on their souls, promising to expose anyone who displayed even the slightest sign of affliction.

  Suddenly, without warning, he raised his staff high, gripping it in two hands, and recited:

  Andham tamam pravishantiam yeham avidyam upasteriyam

  Tatham bhuyam eevam teyasta tamor yam udh vidyayam rataham

  At once Senate Hall was plunged into pitch-darkness.

  Jilana

  1

  Everyone in Senate Hall screamed.

  Jilana and Vrath both rose to their feet. Vrath started forward, but Jilana raised a hand. Despite the darkness, Vrath saw her gesture and stopped. Jilana saw that Vrath’s eyes were glowing intensely with deep blue light. Her raised hand reflected a similar glow, and she brought the hand closer to her face to confirm that she too was exuding blue light from her own pupils, though the light from her eyes was much less intense than Vrath’s. She looked around and saw that most people in Senate Hall had a faint blueish tinge in their eyes, most too faint to be seen individually but visible as a group. But there were many dark patches in the hall, and in some places, a garish red glow was pulsing. Red eyes glittered in the crowd here and there, visible only now in the pitch-darkness.

  Her son, however, was glowing brightly. Both Vessa’s eyes were glowing with a paler blue light than that of Vrath, and much less intense. But there was a blueish smoke pouring from the tips of his fingers and the palms of his hands, and his staff was leaking blue light as well. Vessa moved the staff violently in one direction then another, as if pointing to various spots around the chamber.

  North. South. East. West. The cardinal directions. He’s . . . he’s purifying the room!

  Vessa’s voice rang out through the hall, chanting protective mantras over the strange sounds coming now from the crowd.

  Jilana realized that the red-eyed people in the gathering were starting to growl and make other strange animal sounds. She saw those around them move away, exclaiming in fear, as the red eyes began to drop their pretense of being human and display their true, demonical natures. Their noises grew, like the sounds of predators preparing to attack.

  Vessa’s hands and staff were swirling with thick blue-tinted smoke, the illumination from it bright enough to light up his face, casting his intense features into sharp relief. His wild hair and flowing beard caught highlights of blue, giving him the appearance of a saptarishi, one of the Seven Seer-Mages of mythology, depicted in one of the frescoes on the ceiling of the great hall. Stonefire showed beings of power in their truest forms, burning away all artifice and masks.

  Now all the red eyes were converging on Vessa as he continued his Krushan chanting in that singsong pad-a-pad way that priests practiced to perfection. The others in Senate Hall had backed away to make room for their urrkh-afflicted neighbors. Those who did not move quickly enough were greeted by threatening growls and in some cases, a vicious blow, a kick, or a slash or a swipe. Before they could cause serious harm to the unfortunate victims, Vessa’s chanting distracted them, drawing their ire and their mindless violence to focus on him instead.

  As they approached, the others backed away, leaving Vessa now in an island of darkness ringed by a circle of red eyes.

  There were several dozen of them, all on hands and feet now, crawling like beasts, growling and snarling with fury. Ministers, nobles, courtiers, even beautiful daughters of wealthy aristocrats, all now moving like animals. Vessa had drawn them out so suddenly, so expertly, they had not had a chance for subterfuge or escape.

  Jilana understood now why Vessa had wanted everyone to remain in Senate Hall: so that he could expose them. But she had seen the effects of Jarsun’s evil that night of the eclipse. What if the devil had gifted the possessed with enough of his urrkh maya that they could harm even Vessa? Perhaps she had been too quick to restrain Vrath. Perhaps she could still appeal to him to go to her son’s aid.

  Now the red eyes were preparing to leap, to attack, to kill. No longer thinking, functional human beings, they were now minions of Jarsun, mindless tools of his evil. They would either kill their prey . . . or die trying.

  Believe, Jilana. Believe in him. He has never let you down yet.

  Vessa continued to chant:

  Asuryaham namaham teyam lokam andhyena tamasavratyam

  Tanam astheyam preytyabhigshanthiam yehaam keycham atmahanahso janaham

  With a blinding flash of blue light, Vessa’s staff and hands flared with stonefire shakti, blasting outward in every direction. The blue smoke exploded, booming throughout the chamber. Jilana felt the power of a great wind blast her, billowing outward from the center of the circle, causing everyone to stagger back a step or two—everyone except Vrath, of course, who remained standing steadfast, unshakeable as Mount Coldheart itself. The blue light lit up every corner of Senate Hall, illuminating even the dogs and cats nesting in the eaves and corners under the scalloped walls. A huge gasp was forced from the mouths of everyone present—except, again, Vrath—and then, as suddenly as it had flared, the blue light of stonefire was extinguished, leaving the chamber once again in pitch-darkness.

  2

  Pandemonium ensued.

  The Tainted Ones now lay on the floor sprawled in a jagged circle around where Vessa stood. At first glance, they all appeared to be dead, but as Jilana watched, she saw a hand twitch—then a leg, then a head move. So, they were alive, just knocked senseless. She realized she was holding her breath and exhaled, feeling the blood leave her head. She stepped back, found the throne, and sat. Vrath was in the thick of things, issuing quiet, firm instructions; ordering guards and sentries; telling ministers what to do. He took command of the situation in seconds, restoring calm to the unnerved gathering. Those whose relatives, friends, partners, or associates had turned into red eyes were asked to come forward and assist them.

  Vessa walked away from the circle, and people parted hurriedly to let him through. He stood at the foot of the throne dais, looking nowhere in particular, calm now that his work was done. Behind him, a young woman and her father were hesitating to lay hands on a middle-aged woman dressed in fine robes, who lay on the floor in a semiconscious state. Clearly, they were afraid that the mother and wife was still possessed and potentially dangerous.

  “They are unharmed and harmless,” Vessa said, even though his back was turned to the crowd. “I have exorcised the last remnants of Jarsun’s evil from their bodies. They will be disoriented and forgetful for a few days, but in time they will be as they were before; however, they will remember nothing of the events since the night of the eclipse. Whatever they may have done in these intervening days since that night, you should know that it was under the influence of the adversary’s evil power; it was not their doing. They are victims, not culprits. Treat them with compassion and kindness, and they will recover fully.”

  This seemed to ease the minds of the crowd. The young woman and her father who had been hesitating now went ahead and helped the middle-aged woman to her feet, supporting her as they moved her to sit on a bench in the lord’s gallery. She held her face and cried, shaking her head as she tried to understand what had happened. Jilana felt some sympathy for the woman, and for the others who had been possessed by Jarsun’s evil, but her sympathy was overshadowed by the anger she felt for the Reygistani himself. How had this gone unnoticed for so long? The night of the eclipse was weeks ago. Jilana shuddered to think how many others were afflicted in the city, or in the kingdom at large, and couldn’t help but fear what other damage they had done in the intervening weeks.

  When Jilana snapped out of her reverie, she found Vessa looking up at her. As always he knew her mind and thoughts even without her speaking aloud.

  “Fear not, Mother.
I have cleared the city already,” Vessa said. “These were the last. They were sleeper agents, planted by Jarsun for long-term use. He has not used them since the night of the eclipse, so that no suspicion would fall on them. They were to be activated and used at some future point. That day will never come now, so whatever plan he may have had, he will be disappointed when they fail to respond.”

  Jilana sighed in relief. “Thank you, Vessa.”

  Vrath finished speaking with the last of the ministers and returned to his throne on the dais.

  “Great One,” he said, using the correct, respectful form of address for a sage of Vessa’s stature, even though he was the elder of the two men, and, in a manner of speaking, his older brother, since Jilana was his stepmother. “We thank you for the service you have done Hastinaga today. Hastinaga and the Burnt Empire are in your debt.”

  Vessa inclined his shaggy mane. “The time has come for us to have words in private. Mother, Vrath, let us excuse ourselves.”

  3

  “Let Hastinaga think that the display in the Senate marks the end of Jarsun’s evil,” Vessa said once the doors were shut.

  Jilana glanced at Vrath, who was as usual impossible to read, his handsome, craggy features inscrutable, even his almost translucent eyes revealing nothing of what he thought or felt. “But you rooted out the last of his evil, did you not?”

  Vessa sighed. “Would that I had been able to do more. I fear that what I have done is much too little. I have spent the past weeks since the night of the eclipse scouring myriad realms and multiple worlds in search of the Reygistani. Each time I smell his foul trail and think I am close to apprehending him, he leads me to another dimension, another universe. I have exhausted all my knowledge, all my powers, even now resorting to the most arcane methods as well as the most advanced sciences of the future. Yet he continues to elude me. I had hoped to complete my mission and only then return here to clean up the last vestiges of his evil, but I must admit defeat at last. His sorcery is devilishly powerful. I hesitate to say it is beyond my means to defeat, because until I am able to confront him directly, I cannot test my limits against his own.”

  Vrath said, “He avoids confrontation until he is certain of victory. It was the same with me the day of the Battle of the Rebels. When he was unable to overcome me with his urrkh maya, he fled the field. Since then, he has played this game of hide-and-seek, attacking from the shadows, using puppets and spies. Yet you seem to have come close to cornering him.”

  Vessa frowned. “To me it seemed as if the closer I came to him, the farther he fled. Each time I thought I was within moments of apprehending him, he turned out to be someplace—or some when—else.”

  “He roves the vastness of time and space like a bird on the high currents,” Vrath agreed. “His powers are great, his tactics shrewd, but he is not indomitable.”

  “If you cannot catch an enemy or face him long enough to kill him, then what else can you call him?”

  “Uncatchable?” Vrath shrugged. “No man or god is uncatchable. It is only a matter of time.”

  Vessa shook his head. “Time is one resource we may be in want of.”

  Jilana studied her son’s face. “Do you foresee another attack on the city?”

  “He knows better than to come here again,” Vrath said. “He was wise to pick the one time I was away, because had I been here . . .”

  He did not need to finish the thought.

  “He does not need to come here again in person,” Vessa said. “He has already corrupted the heart of Hastinaga in the most damaging way of all.”

  “What do you mean, Vessa?” Jilana asked. “What corruption you speak of?”

  Vessa looked at her. “You already know. Or you suspect. You have known since the night of the eclipse.”

  Now, it was Vrath’s turn to furrow his large brow. “What does he mean, Mother? Is there something that you did not tell me about that night?”

  Jilana sat on a satin couch, suddenly tired.

  “I told you everything I knew . . . but there were things, other things, that I did not wish to speculate on. I could not be certain, so did not want to speak in guesses and rumors.”

  Vrath exchanged a glance with Vessa, who returned his gaze without response. They both waited for Jilana to continue. She sat, staring at a vase filled with fresh flowers from the imperial gardens, a beautiful arrangement of shades ranging from a faint dusky lavender to a deep crimson, resembling a giant pink-red flower when viewed as a whole. She loved the arrangement, and adored flowers in general, but at this moment, she derived no pleasure from either. The anxiety that had been growing within her for weeks had flowered into full-blown maturity.

  “That night,” she said at last, her voice heavy with sadness, “when I did not find Adri and Geldry in their bedchamber, I sent guards to search them out. They found Adri in a maid’s quarters in the far end of the palace. He had been . . . cohabiting with her.”

  Vrath took this news without reaction. “I know of this already. It was reported to me even before I returned to Hastinaga.”

  Jilana nodded slowly. “I thought that might be the case. I did not speak of it only because it caused me some pain. Adri was a good boy and has grown to be a good man, despite the many obstacles life threw in his path. But since his marriage to Geldry, I have begun to notice signs of stress and unhappiness. I thought these were to be expected with any marriage in the early adjustment period. I hoped he would grow out of them, and so would she. But when I heard this news, it hurt my heart, because it told me that things were far worse than I had suspected. To push a man of Adri’s upstanding morality to the point of infidelity must have taken a great deal of strife and stress. I do not blame Geldry because a husband’s infidelity has nothing whatsoever to do with his wife, and everything to do with his own irresponsibility.”

  “Forgive me for interrupting, Mother,” Vessa said, “but do not overlook the fact that this happened on the night of the eclipse.”

  “Certainly. I know that this was the effect of Jarsun’s evil sorcery. Only just now in Senate Hall, we witnessed the extent to which his powers can drive people even weeks after the event. But even urrkh maya must have some limits. Why drive Adri to infidelity? Why cause him to lie with that particular maid? And if the guard’s telling, and the accounts I received from other maids, are to be believed, then none of his actions that night were forced or wholly involuntary. Unlike those poor possessed souls in Senate Hall today, Adri appeared to be in full possession of his faculties, operating of his own volition, and not only indulging in the act of infidelity, but wholeheartedly . . . enjoying it. Repeatedly.”

  Vessa and Vrath had no response to this new revelation.

  Jilana took a single flower from the arrangement, a deep crimson one, and without being fully aware of her actions, began to pluck the petals from the flower, one by one, dropping them on the polished tabletop. “Not only that, but since that night, Adri has had multiple assignations with the same maid. Enthusiastic assignations. He has been heard speaking affectionately to her and confessing intensely personal revelations about himself, his marriage, his anxieties and doubts as a king since Shvate’s abdication—things he does not speak of to anyone else. I doubt all this was the effect of Jarsun’s sorcery too.”

  Vessa shook his head. “The Reygistani’s power could cause him to go to the maid’s quarters, perhaps even drive him to priapic lust. But to go back to the same woman time and again, to open his heart in such a manner, no, Mother, that would be beyond even the reach of urrkh maya in my opinion. But there is something else you should know. I observed Adri discreetly before arriving here today.”

  “You did?” she asked, surprised. “But he is away at Riverdell.”

  “Indeed, and that is where I visited him. I made myself invisible to the human eye, to avoid being observed by his entourage—and by the maid of whom we speak.”

  “She was there too?” Jilana was less surprised than disappointed. She had finished removi
ng the petals from the flower and moved to take another one from the arrangement. “That is bold and audacious of him, to take his lover along for a picnic.”

  “Perhaps it is his way of being discreet,” Vrath said. “After all, it is less scandalous than going to her within the palace at odd hours, or holding trysts in various inappropriate places.”

  Jilana proceeded with the destruction of the flower. “Perhaps. And what did you observe there at Riverdell, my son? If it is too sordid, then spare me the details.”

  “He loves her deeply and genuinely,” Vessa replied, “in a way that he has never loved Geldry and, I fear, may never love her in future. This is no passing fancy or wayward lust. Adri has given his heart to this dasi. Today I heard him speak of marriage.”

  “Marriage!” Jilana exclaimed, tearing the flower into shreds. She threw the remains on the table, staring up hotly at her son. “What impudence! A king of Hastinaga, ruler of the Burnt Empire, marrying a mere low-caste maid. It is unthinkable!”

  “As unthinkable as Sha’ant, king of Hastinaga, marrying a low-caste fisherman’s daughter?” Vessa asked softly, without any accusation in his tone.

  Jilana sat back, staring at him.

  “Yes, of course,” she said. “I see the hypocrisy in my words. I myself was Sha’ant’s lover and second wife. And low-caste to boot. But there are differences! For one thing, my father was a king among the Nishadas. And Sha’ant was a widower.”

  “Was he?” Vessa asked, glancing up at Vrath. “I believe his first wife is still very much alive. Is not your mother still extant, Vrath?”

  “I meant in her human form,” Jilana said, her face flushing with embarrassment. “This . . . maid . . . was she even a maiden at the time of her first copulation with Adri? Who knows what feminine wiles might she have employed to lure him into her bed, or what her motives might have been?”

 

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