Suitably intrigued, I condescended to the fellow's wishes and followed his little, orange sashed form through our own private limbo. All the while, the buzzing increased. Convinced I should soon be battling off plagues of rampaging insects, the noise grew so loud that it even obscured my crunching footfalls. As regards quizzing the little fellow on the whereabouts of this god of his, I had no option but to defer it to a quieter occasion.
As if in response to the mentioning of heavenly powers, the stars came out. One moment it was impossible to see, the next, an obsidian sky swept before my upturned face. The unobscured, celestial majesty of the cosmos spread across the night like a black, silk scarf scattered with diamonds. It reminded me of my own insignificance. I wasn't too pleased about that.
On lowering my eyes, I was presented with those responsible for all the racket: Zeppelins. There was at least three I could spy and suspected a fourth hidden behind Shangri-La's towers. Cables thicker than the widest tree trunks hung down to points beyond my vision. It took no genius to realise our little slice of nirvana was on the move.
I hurried after my guide who had put some distance between us, altogether more impressed by my host's capabilities.
For the longest time, I'd believed the Marquis an idiot; he clearly was not. At least, not from a technical point of view. He would always be a contemptuous, obese, walrus of a man, but he'd gained my slightest stirrings of respect. Most of the Eternal lords would have had a new Shangri-La constructed wheresoever they desired. It would only be a matter of button pressing, a few whispered words into a control box, but not the Marquis. His determination to preserve the exact nature of what he held dear, and relocate, rather than destroy and rebuild, was refreshing for the times.
The Hierarchy's technological mastery of the planet always disturbed. This technology was inherited from the last vestiges of humanity and not earned. Never a good combination in my humble opinion. As our kind diminished, it meant all that cumulative power rested in fewer and fewer hands. I for one did not wish to be left alone on a sterile world with the last trigger-happy idiot. In some respects, the fact most had taken to lives of luxuriant excess was partial relief, as there was less chance of them doing something irreconcilably stupid that I for one would regret.
Eventually, we came to a set of stairs which we ascended. Our host waited atop them and greeted us with his booming voice.
“You may wish to keep your head down a moment, Jean. Good evening, by the way!” he added at a bellow.
“Good evening to you, too!” I shouted back. “Is there some decapitation issue?”
“No!” he thundered. “We're passing over my wife's castle. It would be unwise for you to be seen here. Doubtless I would receive a fond wave farewell if she only had the brains to look up.”
I said nothing and did as he suggested allowing myself to peer over the topmost part of the wall rather like a hermit crab peeping from his shell. As I did so, all went silent. The universe took on an altogether different complexion as we sailed over the clouds.
“Ah, at last, we've reached the correct altitude. No need to strain the engines any more than necessary.”
“Are we moving far?” I enquired. “The continents and countries within seem to move about with such regularity that I'm not sure I would recognise where we were headed anyway.”
“I seek solitude. The peace and quiet that my humble servants and I require is surprisingly hard to find even in these times of sparse populations. I think we shall try outside the boundaries of The New Europa Alliance.”
“I didn't realise there was a world beyond the alliance?”
“Maybe not the world you are used to, but there is a world, Jean.”
I allowed myself time to cogitate on the Marquis' words. The draw of finally being free of all I despised had a strange allure. No, I did not wish to spend it in the Marquis' presence, but it had its perks. I also suspected my letter's writers incapable of tracing me beyond the boundaries of the new Europa, as they were considerably broader than the boundaries of the old Europa. That would save the effort of assassinating King Rudolph. Factoring in how any decision would affect a future dalliance with Linka was a consideration too. I missed her. Despite only just having met, there was something about the girl. From her mysterious appearance into my life to the beauteous way in which she'd affected it, Linka was uppermost in my reasoning. I'd neither enjoyed anyone nor anything for so long that it meant rather a lot.
I toyed with discussing my current situation with the Marquis, but decided against it on account of rather finding whoever placed the letter myself. I felt that if left alone with said person, or persons, long enough, I could extract whatever information I required from them. Afterwards, I'd have to butcher them, but that was only to be expected.
“So, where are we going?” I eventually capitulated into enquiring.
The Marquis did that most irritating of actions and tapped the side of his nose several times. Just for added annoyance, he even winked.
“Right!” he proclaimed, “I'm off in for a while. Things to do, problems to solve,” he called, as he all but bounced away down the stairs. “Feel free to wander. I'll leave Sunyin as host in my absence. You shall find him a more than capable substitute.”
I nodded to the Marquis, but he was already rolling away through the gardens.
The opportunity to explore appealed, but for the time being I wished only to gaze across the cloud capped landscape. To be quite so high was an experience I had never sampled before. The novelty value alone demanded my attention although I was a tad perturbed the clouds that had greeted my exiting the palace had again amassed beneath the floating city. Shangri-La seemed adrift on a cumulous sea of gloom. Sunyin observed my pondering from a polite distance and wisely stayed out of the way.
I walked along the perimeter wall of the re-envisioned Shangri-La. There was no doubting its exceptional lines and thought provoking beauty. However, I found the Himalayan hideaway's whole concept to be far too ostentatious. Why a place supposedly so hard to find should require a wall, I did not know? In my humble opinion the Marquis would have been more in-keeping with mythology if he'd removed it. A few too many spires added to the overly dramatic effect and the random placement of bejewelled ornamentation was definite overkill. Each to their own though, at least he had the decency to not transplant it in the heart of the Rhineland.
* * *
It took about three hours to circumnavigate the place which was for in all intents and purposes almost circular. The gigantic Zeppelin balloons, of which I was correct in assuming there were four, were interspaced at exact radii around the city. The high towered palace, again engineered to excess, looked out across the Marquis' domain without obstruction. If the place had required defence, which it didn't, it would have been an exceptional piece of engineering.
“Would, sir, wish to retire inside?” enquired Sunyin, who I'd quite forgotten was there.
“What is there inside that I cannot see out here?” I sneered.
“It will be warmer, at least.”
I thought that an odd thing to say as the dead did not feel the cold being already a stage further along in the chilling process. Nevertheless, I allowed him to lead me back through the gardens into the palace. I'd seen enough stars for one night and rather relished the thought of another quaff or two of the Marquis' blood supplies.
I followed Sunyin who weaved his way through the gardens with a strange grace to the main buildings. A brief stop ensued to write my name into the snow of an idyllic looking spot. Out of badness, I hoped to upset the residents' karma. After all, I didn't see why they should be so happy, whilst I had the murdering of kings to contend with.
I understood why the Marquis relished the privacy his home afforded him. There was an overwhelming sense of calmness to the place and I could've imagined it conducive to clear thoughts. I'd have even said it possessed a slight headiness, but that could have been the altitude. The one question that rolled around in my mind unanswe
red was why the Marquis required such a place? I could appreciate the desire to be rid of his wife, pompous annoyance that she was, but he wasn't noted for his manners, either. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. It was most unlike me. I prided myself on being unsurprised by the world, but the last two days had been full of such things. Who'd have thought killing someone could prove so troublesome?
* * *
By the time we reached the main throne room, and an empty one at that, I'd returned to my more usual brooding state. Sunyin crossed straight to the small table which was still set out as before, poured a glass, and offered me it. One had to admire the little, shaven-haired fellow. He was made from tough stock. Monk or not, it was no easy thing to be around so much blood. To all but handle it, and still have the self-restraint to not partake, I almost felt like offering him a glass. Almost.
“Will honourable guest be able to find his own way back to his room?” Sunyin gave a deferential bow.
“I don't see why not.”
“Then, I will leave you in peace. Please clap twice if you wish assistance and one of my brothers or I will attend to you immediately.”
“Thank you, I will.”
Sunyin bowed again then headed back off the way we had come. As he approached the door to the grounds, he stopped and said in a solemn voice, “We are very high. The sun will appear early.”
I nodded, he needn't have said anything extra, and we both knew it. That was a very polite way of saying, step outside and you'll fry.
Sunyin closed the throne room doors with a resonating boom. I was alone at last. Good, just as I preferred.
I studied Shangri-La's bare simplicity. The paucity of decoration was in-keeping with the city's legendary theme if not with the blasé nature of the Marquis. My few dealings with the man had shown him to be on par with his wife for over the top personal statements. This reimagining of his was most out of character.
However, the draw of blood proved too much to concentrate on lesser things. Not wishing to debase myself again in the provided collapsible chair, I collected the decanter, my empty glass, and climbed into the Marquis' granite throne. The seat wasn't at all comfortable, but by draping my right leg over one arm I could at least lounge in a reasonably satisfactory fashion. I looked to the decanter, then to the glass, and decided it was an unnecessary extra, so discarded it and lay there slurping straight from the vessel itself. I took my time with the blood, rolled it over my tongue, let it drip down my throat. It really was the best drink I'd ever had. If there was one thing I would extract from the Marquis before departing it would be the source of his most delicious elixir.
Not a soul did I see in all the time I lounged there, which gave ample opportunity to savour the hall's tranquillity and excellence of the drink. If truth be known, I allowed myself to become quite high on the life-giving liquid.
And so it was that a more mellow me retraced his steps to the room which held his coffin and climbed into an early but blissful sleep.
Chapter Six
-
Grim
I awoke with a wrenching start, feeling like my whole body had been slammed against a brick wall. By instinct, I pushed on the coffin lid, realised it pinned, and reacted accordingly. Rage erupted. I shoved for all I was worth until whoever sat upon the coffin was thrown off. The freed lid flew open, and I rolled out onto the stone floor. The coffin lay upon its side and me along with it. My latest home had been tossed against the far wall. Not a good beginning to my day!
Determined to get to the bottom of such an insult to my rest, I dashed out of the room and through the barren halls. Not a soul did I see until I burst out of the palace and into the clear half-light of a gibbous moon. Mystery solved: we had landed.
We appeared to have come to a standstill at the base of an enormous valley. Towering either side of the mobile city were mountains of such jagged viciousness I would have considered them all but impassable, even to such as I. If I'd seen dragons belching fire atop them, it would not have surprised, but then I always was a fantasist.
“Did we wake you, Jean?” came the booming voice of the Marquis along with an accompanying slap to my back. I turned to my host, gave him one of my most withering stares, which caused his jowls to wobble in shock, before he regained his jovial attitude and continued. “Sorry about the landing, dear boy, but it was a tricky manoeuvre to get us in-between these infernal mountains.”
“And where might these so-called infernal mountains be?” I asked with no let up in temper. The Marquis pulled me forward a few yards then stuck his stubby finger into the air at an acute angle. My eyes followed his indication to a spot way up in the aether. There, perched upon some of the darkest, sawtoothed rocks I'd ever seen, stood a fortress of rusting iron that looked like something from an ancient Brothers Grimm publication I'd once read. “That has not enlightened me in the slightest,” I remarked.
“Vladivar,” was all that escaped the Marquis' mouth.
I was afraid of no man, I had never known fear in my lifetime, only apprehension, and on a rare occasion discomfort, but I felt a chill go through the marrow of my spine. This was the home of Crown Prince Vladivar of the Red Alliance. The man's cruelty was beyond any other, legendary in his dislike of all but himself and those he allied with. He was perhaps the closest thing to a vampire of old that remained in our fractious world. That we had come so far in such short time, shocked; to have landed, disturbed; to have seen the man stood besides King Rudolph so recently, troubled me deeply.
“Are you well, Jean?” the Marquis mocked, although it was clear he was as much if not more uneasy, than I.
“Oh, quite well, Vincent. I just regret meeting so auspicious a ruler as Crown Prince Vladivar attired as a vagabond.”
“Good grief, man” spluttered the Marquis. “I truly am sorry. We shall remedy half of that problem this instant.”
“Half?” I said, with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, you'll always be a vagabond, but at least you can be a well presented one.”
“Indeed,” I acquiesced, as Sunyin appeared from nowhere and gestured for me to follow.
I wallowed in indecision behind the graceful monk. The desire to flee was of high priority but I suspected it would avail me nothing if the likes of Vladivar chose pursuit. He would undoubtably find me if he desired it. The man controlled the resources of half the civilised world. When the Americas was left to its own morbid devices and the few remaining Eternals came east, they flocked to the prime cities of Paris, Munchen, and a lesser extent, New Washington that which was once Vienna. After all, why would one leave their own country to take residence in its miniature? However, none travelled as far as the boundaries of the conjoined rivers, Volga and Tigris, the two manipulated to slice the eastern continent in twain after the Black Sea evaporated. Why it was such a big deal, I never knew, as one could virtually jump the thing, anyway. Everyone knew that Vladivar's dark presence was the only deterrent required to prevent its being crossed. Then again, who'd want to?
Sunyin led me to a chamber which I assumed belonged to the Marquis himself as it was far more ostentatious than the rest of Shangri-La. The man was obviously not quite the pillar of serene humility he purposed to be. Drapes and mirrors adorned three of the walls the other quarter comprised of one massive, polished, wooden wardrobe. Sunyin walked over to this, threw open the doors, and gestured for me to take my pick. It was an easy decision to make: black trousers; black, silk shirt; long, black jacket. I did not choose new boots, even though they abounded, as a man should never be parted from his own. A man's boots contained the history of his wanderings and I had no intention of giving mine up. I washed at a gold tapped, porcelain sink and soon felt more my old self again. Sunyin waited patiently throughout sitting cross-legged on the floor. The man seemed to have entered some kind of meditative state. I walked up to him, waved my hands before his face, then kicked at his sandalled foot.
“Go away!” he shouted.
“Pardon?”
/>
The monk opened brown eyes to a look of horror at his outburst.
I am not one for laughing out loud, only the most vulgar mannered do, but I couldn't help doing so. The shock of what he had done was made all the more amusing by the continual head bowing he insisted upon in supplication.
“I forgive you, for God's sake,” I eventually barracked. This appeared to do the trick. Sunyin shot to his feet and led the way from the room through the winding passages and back to the main gate –repaired, I noted – where the Marquis sat upon a white horse of some magnificence. It amazed me that so slug-like a form could even balance upon such a beast, never mind ride it. There was no sign of such a steed, or any steed, for myself or the assembled monks.
Thus gathered, I noticed for the first time something uncanny about the inhabitants of Shangri-La: they were all identical. All except Sunyin that was, who wore an orange sash to his russet tunic whereas the rest wore brown. I tried not to show my interest in the monks but the Marquis' limpet-like eyes were already upon me. A little of the snake showed for the first time reminding me of my previous distaste for the man; first impressions and all that.
“Are you ready, Jean?” the Marquis asked, unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice.
“Oh, indeed. I cannot wait to meet Crown Prince Vladivar. I hear we share the same stylist.”
“Really,” the Marquis said with a slight sneer. “We shall soon see.”
The massive door-come-gate opened to the unhealthy sight of heaped black rocks rising, which rose to a vertical point of neck craning unease. I sauntered out after my host who obviously felt it his honour to lead the way. I didn't object, he could lead all he wanted.
Like a great serpent of old our procession slithered along until finding a set of steps cut deep into the rock face. Single file was all that was manageable there, the way marked by its bottlenecked route. I noted the Marquis sent two monks on ahead. The man's desire to lead had lasted less than five minutes, rather in the same mould as my interest, which had already peaked and was on the wane.
The Eternals Page 5