by Peter Kenson
The stakes in this particular game were escalating rapidly. Did Jeren and Rachel still need his help? Yes, of that he was certain. Was he entitled to give it? In Rachel’s case possibly, although the Emperor tended to take a dim view of interference in what he regarded as interplanetary squabbles. In Jeren’s case, definitely not. He was guilty of bringing advanced technology into a society here that was clearly not ready for it.
So why was he still involving himself in the affairs of these two young royals? He loved them both; he was prepared to admit that. He also recognised that he was being unprofessional. Normally at the end of a mission, he would have let go of all involvement and moved on. So why was it different this time?
He lay back and let his mind float free. It quickly filled with the image of a tall, slender woman in a green, figure hugging dress, with brown, shoulder length hair that gleamed in the sunlight and soft, hazel eyes that looked directly into a man’s soul. Held hostage by Manny and fearful of his intentions, she radiated such beauty and presence that he had instantly fallen under her spell.
Since then she had been forced to endure a whole range of emotional turmoil: grief as her husband died in her arms, despair at the loss of the village children, fear for the life of her son and pride in what he had eventually achieved. He had helped where he could, mainly by supporting Jeren in his campaign to recapture Marmoros, but the timing and manner of her husband’s death had created a barrier between them that he seemed unable to break down.
But in his heart, he knew she was the reason he was still here. At first the widow of a village leader who refused the title of king-in-exile. Then as Queen Regent controlling her rebellious council and now as Queen Mother, watching with anxious pride as Jeren secures his position on the throne of Marmoros. Despite everything she had gone through, she still radiated that same beauty and charm, and he was still hopelessly in love with her.
***
The court had already been cancelled by the time Jeren entered the audience chamber. However, to his dismay, he walked in just as Lord Grekan and Falaise were going over the proposal to redevelop one of the more rundown sections of the city. Lord Wynter, who had been appointed in charge of city planning, had the table covered with a large plan of the area between the market square and the slave quarter.
“Come in, your Majesty,” Grekan said cheerfully. “Lord Wynter was just explaining how we can increase both the quantity and the quality of housing in the city.”
Jeren looked hopefully at his mother but saw no help coming from that direction. With a sigh he walked over to the table and began to study the plan.
“I was just saying, your Majesty, that the slave quarters are less than half full at the moment,” Lord Wynter began. “Some of the slaves were granted their freedom by your majesty’s generous decree while others are living in the houses of the families they serve. The majority of the remaining slaves in this quarter are working in the quarries and so I was proposing moving them nearer their place of work which would allow us to redevelop this whole area.”
“That would make sense,” Jeren admitted. “Do we have enough water to supply this new district?”
“The city is blessed with an abundance of water, your Majesty. It’s just that not all of it is in an ideal place.”
“Go on,” Jeren laughed. “What do we need to do?”
“Well, as you can see, the district is bounded on one side by the wall directly above the River Savage, so cutting an outfall for waste water and sewage will not be a problem. Getting fresh water in, is a little more difficult. We can divert cold water from the aqueduct feeding the market square but there is not enough hot water to go around. To take more hot water from the main city supply would require a new aqueduct across the canal and a lot of disruption in the upper city. However, at the head of the canal, there is another hot stream that we can tap into, just this side of the quarry. We’d need to cut a new channel for it but it can be done.”
“Excellent! And the new library is going to be a part of this development?”
“Yes, your Majesty. Right here by the side of the canal,” Wynter replied, pointing to a large building on the plan. “As you requested, the building itself will form three sides of a quadrangle with the canal forming the fourth side. That will create an enclosed space for quiet contemplation or reading. The arms of the building will be divided into storage areas and the front of the building will contain one large theatre and several smaller discussion rooms.”
“What about the actual canal? What’s the progress on that?”
“We’ve cleared the bed of the canal from the quarry to the market wharves,” Grekan replied. “We’ve repaired one set of gates so that we can flood that entire section but the gates are rotten and really need to be replaced. They leak quite badly, so we would have to keep a continuous flow of water into the canal to maintain the level.”
“But if we do that, at least we can float the stones down from the quarry into the heart of the city without having to use wagons.”
“Unfortunately the stones won’t float on their own, your Majesty. We’ve only found the one barge and that is in a worse condition than the gates. We’re experimenting with rafts at the moment but the problem is to get the stone to balance exactly in the centre of the raft.”
“Can the barge be repaired?”
“I’ve had it lifted from the bed of the canal and our carpenters have looked at it, but they are not boat builders and they are complaining about a lack of seasoned wood.”
“I thought we had logging crews up in the hills now the weather has eased.”
“Yes we do but the wood they’re sending back is too green to use. It will be months before that dries out sufficiently to be usable.”
Jeren paused to think about that for a minute. “The nearest port to us is Kell. They must have established boat building and repair yards there. Send word to our agents in Kell. I want an experienced boat builder and enough seasoned wood for two barges, on the next caravan heading our way.”
“As your majesty commands.” Grekan bowed his head in acknowledgement and signalled one of the clerks to take note.
“And now, if there’s nothing further, my lords, I have some other business to attend to before this evening.”
The clerks gathered up the plans and bowed their way out just as Baltur came in to the audience chamber. He waited until lords Grekan and Wynter had left before speaking.
“I found them, Jeren. They’re waiting outside for you.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Falaise enquired.
“If you have nothing better to do, Mother. I want to talk to Lady Marilyn now that the caravans have started to move again. Show them in, Baltur.”
They took their seats on the dais as Marilyn and Abel Sargesson approached and made their obeisance.
“You sent for us, your Majesty?”
“Yes I did. You remember that the last time we spoke, I said it would be better if you left Marmoros for a while to allow things to settle down. Lady Falaise is doing her best to arbitrate between the families, but the situation is still… delicate. Anyway there will be a caravan arriving today. Unfortunately it was attacked on its way from High Falls so it may be a few days before it is ready to leave again, but when it does, you will travel with it.”
Marilyn looked a little unhappy but nodded silently.
“Why the long face, my lady? You knew this had to happen.”
“I know, your Majesty. It’s just that Marmoros was once a great city, the trading centre of the world. I had hoped to be a part of restoring it to its former glory.”
“I am glad to hear you say that, my lady, because that is precisely what you will be doing. Let’s take this conversation somewhere more private and we can discuss a small commission that I have in mind.”
Jeren handed Falaise down from the dais and led the way into a small garden behind the audience chamber. He posted Baltur at the entrance with instructions not
to let anyone in and seated the others by the side of a tinkling fountain to mask the sound of their voices.
“This conversation is not to be repeated to anybody,” he warned them and paused until both Abel and Marilyn had agreed.
“Good! Now we’ll drop the formalities in here; I am simply Jeren and my mother is Falaise. And I’m going to start by being somewhat rude to you, Abel, because I don’t know you. However, I do know Marilyn; I grew up with her and I don’t believe she would involve herself with an idiot.”
“Uh, thank you… I think,” Abel said cautiously.
Jeren winked at Marilyn before continuing. “Coming from a merchant family, I know you can read and write but tell me, how widely do you read?”
“My father’s business affairs do not allow me much free time for leisure activities, your Maj… I mean Jeren. And what little time I do have is…” He threw a quick glance in Marilyn’s direction and blushed furiously.
“Yes, I can see you’ve got your hands full at the moment,” Jeren remarked drily. “And believe me, I know exactly how that feels.”
“Now then children, play nicely,” Falaise scolded but with a smile on her face.
“Yes Mother,” Jeren replied with mock sincerity. “I’m sorry, Abel. No offence intended.”
“None taken.”
“Marilyn, you surprised, even shocked the Court with your defence of Abel the other day. I didn’t realise you knew so much about the law.”
“I don’t really. It just seemed obvious to me at the time.”
“But you must have read something about it.”
“I’ve read every book my father owns and every other book that I’ve been able to beg, borrow or… otherwise obtain from his friends.”
“I’m surprised Bardsley allowed it. Most noble families do not let their daughters anywhere near a book.”
“I didn’t say I was allowed, Jeren.”
“Now that I am not surprised about,” he laughed. “All right, now in all that reading, you must have come across the legends about our ancestors coming here from the stars.”
“I’d heard the stories anyway but, yes, there were references in some of the books.”
“Do you believe the legends?”
“I’m not sure. Why do you ask?”
“Because they’re true.”
This drew a little gasp of shock from both Abel and Marilyn. Jeren sat back and waited for a reaction.
“How do you know this?” Marilyn asked after a moment.
“Because I have seen the ships that people use to travel between the stars; mother and I have been inside one. And because Rachel left here in one of these ships to find her own people, living on a world like ours but under a different sun.”
Marilyn looked at Falaise for confirmation before leaning back in her chair. “I don’t know what to say. This is fabulous. But if we came from the stars once, why do we know nothing about it now?”
“We believe that contact with other worlds was broken during a great war and we became isolated. Gradually, over the years, we lost all of that knowledge and a vast amount more. We used to know so much about the world that we live in, about medicine and science. We knew how to build vast, complex machines and how to travel between the stars. We need to regain that knowledge and that’s why I’m asking for your help.”
“Well obviously we’ll help in whatever way we can,” Marilyn replied, as Abel nodded vigorously in support. “What do you want us to do?”
“I want books,” Jeren answered. “The older the better. Somewhere in those books there may be remnants of the knowledge we once possessed. I am building a great library here in Marmoros and I need books to fill it. Then I plan to bring scholars here to study those books and teach our people what they know. Marmoros is going to be great again, but not just as a trading centre. It is going to be a centre of knowledge and learning. If the books are here, the scholars will follow and so will the students. It will take years, probably several lifetimes, but we will regain that knowledge and we will once again travel to the stars.”
There was a stunned silence from the group as they tried to grasp the entirety of their young king’s design. Even Falaise was taken aback by the breadth of vision of this young man she had given birth to. His passionate leadership had united the Lyenar to march on Marmoros and recapture their city and now he was setting out a vision of its future that was awe inspiring in its scope.
Marilyn was the first to recover the power of speech. “Where do you want us to start, Jeren?”
“I would suggest the court of the High King. There is no library as such at the moment, even at court. Books are scattered everywhere and the older they are, the rarer they are and the harder to find. However, there are scholars at court who may be able to give you some help in tracking them down. It would also do no harm for them to learn about the new library here although not about the truth of the legends.”
Jeren smiled at the two of them as he spoke. “I assume Abel is going to make an honest woman of you as soon as you are away from Marmoros, so your day-to-day business as Lyenar merchants will give you the perfect cover to travel anywhere you want. I will give you a letter of credit to get you started and obviously I’ll reimburse your expenses. Buy whatever you can and have copies made of anything you can’t persuade people to sell. And ship everything back here by the quickest and most secure route. I want to fill that library as soon as the construction is complete.”
***
“I still don’t understand how we’re going to get there,” Baltur grumbled, as they made their way through the tunnels behind the palace. “And why haven’t we brought any horses?”
“I’ve already told you there won’t be any room for horses,” Jeren replied patiently. “And anyway, we don’t need them. We’re setting up a static ambush, remember?”
“I’d still feel better if I had my horse.”
“That’s because you’re too fat to walk any distance. Fortunately for you, Lord David is going to take us straight to the ambush site so you won’t have to.”
Any further discussion about Baltur’s waistline was cut short as they emerged from the tunnels into the small quarry where David was waiting for them. It was full night but both the moons were up and the clearing was well lit. Jeren looked round for the shuttle but it was still parked in its ‘cave’.
“What’s the delay, my lord?” he called out as they walked over.
“It’s that damned spy-in-the-sky,” David replied. “It will be another hour before it drops below the horizon. I can’t risk bringing the ship out before then, not with both moons up and no cloud cover.”
“Will we still make it in time?”
“Oh yes, the actual flight time is only a few minutes. I want to overfly the canyon on the way in to make sure they’re still there and we’ll still have time to unload at the head of the valley before the sky begins to lighten.”
Jeren stood the men down as they waited for the orbital platform to move on. The archers busied themselves re-waxing bow strings against the early morning mist while the swordsmen produced whetstones and strops to put a final edge on their weapons. The shuttle was running just the minimum power required for its instruments to track the platform overhead and Jeren begged permission to sit in the co-pilots seat and watch its progress.
Eventually, the track disappeared behind the curvature of the planet and David eased the craft out from its hiding place. The men gathered round in open-mouthed astonishment as he brought it to a halt in the centre of the clearing. They stared in wonder as Jeren opened the cargo hatch and walked down the ramp, and not a few crossed themselves at the prospect of riding in the belly of such a beast. Even Bern, the grizzled old archer, was reluctant to set foot on the ramp.
“It’s all right,” Jeren called out, a tinge of desperation in his voice. “It’s perfectly safe.”
He walked over to where Carl was standing with his battle axe strapped between his s
houlder blades. “Carl?”
The giant axeman bent down so that his face was level with Jeren. “You’ve travelled in this thing before?” he asked.
“I have. And so have Lady Yolanthe and her baby son.”
Carl straightened up. “If Lady Yolanthe and her baby were not frightened to travel in this thing, then I’m damned if it’s going to scare me,” he rumbled loudly. So saying, he marched up the ramp, passing David who clapped him on the shoulder as he entered. Bern looked around at his men and then, with a shrug, followed Carl into the shuttle. The rest of the men quickly followed, bringing with them the wicker screens and sharpened stakes to set out in front of their positions on the hillside and the sheaves of extra arrows they would need.
David settled them on the floor of the shuttle as best they could. “You will not be in here for long,” he told them. “Half an hour at the most. There are some lights which will come on when I close this outside door but I’m afraid there are no windows for you to look out.”
“Just get on with it,” Carl growled.
David closed the outer hatch and headed forward. He was not at all surprised when Jeren followed hard on his heels and sealed the hatch between the flight deck and the cargo hold.
“I see. You are now my official co-pilot, are you?” he smiled as Jeren stowed his sword in one of the lockers and settled himself into the spare seat.
“Uh no. It’s just that this is more comfortable than the floor back there,” Jeren replied with a grin.
“Of course it is.”
They lifted off smoothly and David took the shuttle high to overfly the canyon. There was a risk that they might be spotted on such a clear, moonlit night but they needed to know that Deribe’s force was still there. The shuttle was equipped with several different scanning systems and the infrared detectors picked up a couple of isolated heat sources as they approached the canyon from the south.