The Grand Design

by John Marco

  "Do not come if you don't wish to," she said gently. "Or if you think it will upset the Master. I'll understand."

  "I will be there," said Simon. He let his hand slide gently out of hers. "Look for me at midnight, near the garden wall. Now, get to your practice. Biagio wouldn't want me keeping you from work."

  They spared each other a final kiss before Simon left the music room, his heart thundering with anticipation.

  THREE

  Richius Vantran

  Richius Vantran drew back on the reins of his gelding and brought the beast to a halt near a grove of berry bushes. Here in the hills around Falindar the breeze was stiff, and if not for the wind he might never have noticed the bloodied swatch of cloth skewered like a flag onto the gnarled branch. He spotted it from atop his saddle, took a wary look around, then dismounted.

  It was tranquil save for the buzz of the wind; the animals of the hills had fallen into a disquieting hush. Not far away, Lucyler and Karlaz were following him, stealthily scanning the land, but somehow Richius knew their search had finally ended.

  The sun was bright on the mountains. Richius shaded his eyes and turned the tapering cloth in the light to examine it. It appeared to have been torn from a well-worn shirt, like the sturdy kind the farmers wore. It wasn't indigo so it wasn't Hakan's, but it wasn't weathered either, and the dried blood still had color. Triin blood, he supposed, unless the farmer had been doing some slaughtering of his own. Richius looked around. Not far above, the rocky hill disappeared into what looked like a cave. He craned his neck to see, but the entrance was dark and hidden behind an avalanche of stones. The horse, seeming to read his mind, gave an unhappy snort.

  "Don't worry, boy," said Richius to his mount, going over to the beast and scratching its ear. "We're not going in there."

  The gelding dropped its head, letting Richius tickle its neck. A horse was a rare commodity in this part of Lucel-Lor, and this one seemed to appreciate its station. The land was rugged here, and most of those who had owned horses had eaten them during the lean days of the war. This one was a Naren beast, given to Richius by an old comrade. It had an impeccable gait and an easy manner that reminded him of home.

  "Richius?" Lucyler and Karlaz were coming up the hill on foot, their white Triin faces shining in the sun. Richius hurried over to them.

  "Quiet," he cautioned. "I've found something."

  He handed the shred of cloth to Lucyler. The Triin's gray eyes narrowed as he inspected it. Lucyler nodded knowingly and passed the tatter to Karlaz, who sniffed it and grunted.

  "Where did you find this?" Lucyler asked.

  Richius gestured to the bushes. "There, near the rocks. It was in a branch." Together they walked to the bushes where Richius showed them the spiky twig that had impaled the cloth. It was a stout bush with thorny appendages reaching out in all directions, but there were no other fragments of cloth. Several more branches had been snapped away and lay strewn on the rocky ground. Karlaz ran his hand over the top of the bush, examined the dirt, and grunted again.

  "Tasson," whispered the lion-master knowingly. It was the name of the beast they were hunting, a Triin word meaning "gold." Just as Richius had dubbed his sturdy horse Lightning, the lion riders always named their enormous cats. Karlaz knelt down and put his face to the earth, drawing a breath. Then he dug a finger into the dirt and tasted the soil. Seemingly satisfied, he looked up at Lucyler and nodded.

  "What was that?" Richius asked. Then, in the Trim's own tongue, he said, "Karlaz? What is it?"

  "Urine," Lucyler explained. "The cats always mark where they have been. Karlaz can taste it. He thinks it is very near."

  Richius pointed toward the cave's maw. "Up there," he guessed.

  Karlaz seemed to agree. The trio reached for their weapons. Both Triin undid the jiiktars from their backs while Richius freed his giant sword Jessicane. Lucyler chuckled when he saw the monstrous blade.

  "A good weapon for slaughtering lions," he remarked. "Not much else."

  Richius drew an unsteady breath and wrapped his hands around the sword's hilt. He was under six feet tall, and the sword stood almost as high as a man. It had been made decades ago for his father, and even after months of practice with it the huge blade could still exhaust him.

  "This is not Hakan's," said Lucyler glumly, tucking the soiled cloth into his own shirt. Hakan had been missing now for weeks, and while some assumed that Karlaz's rogue lion had devoured him, the lion had only escaped a few days ago. They all hoped the warrior would return to the citadel with some bizarre story of having fallen into a well or being injured in the mountains, but as the weeks passed each story seemed equally absurd.

  The rogue lion, however, had already killed two people. One was its rider, who had probably been more shocked than anyone by his mount's sudden madness. The other was a farmer from a nearby village. Richius hadn't known either man, but he had seen the incredible damage done to the lion rider's body. A single swipe of the beast's paw had decapitated him. The farmer hadn't been as lucky. His children claimed he was still screaming when the cat dragged him into the forest.

  Richius didn't expect to find Hakan in the lion's lair. He didn't think he had fallen into a well, either. Hakan was a Triin warrior, one of Falindar's best, intimately familiar with all of Lucel-Lor's dangers. Some said the lion had found him, some said snow leopards, but Richius suspected a more sinister creature had gotten to his friend, a monster with golden hair and blue eyes and an insatiable appetite for cruelty.

  "We're not going to find him here, Lucyler," said Richius.

  "He was out hunting," Lucyler reminded Richius sharply. "He might have come along here on his way back to the citadel."

  "It's been too long, Lucyler. No one goes out hunting for two weeks. Even if--"

  "Eeashay!" Karlaz snapped, silencing them. The leader of the lion people crouched down, motioning them to do the same. Richius realized what the man had planned.

  "No," he hissed. "Are you mad? We can't go in there after it!"

  Lucyler looked at Richius sternly. "We have to. The thing is a killer."

  "But not in there," argued Richius. "It'll have us trapped."

  "Karlaz thinks it might be sleeping. It is the best time."

  Richius shook his head. "No way. Now that we've found it we should get help. It's going to take more than the three of us to kill it."

  "Karlaz will kill it," said Lucyler. "We just have to protect him."

  Richius closed his eyes and mumbled a prayer. The sight of the decapitated lion rider sprang into his mind, making his stomach pitch. Karlaz was certainly a capable fighter, but even he was no match for one of his lions. Though he was twice the size of Richius, the lion was three times the size of him. Worse, this one was mad. It would not recognize its master when it saw him, and it would not hesitate to attack.

  But he also knew Lucyler was right. The thing had already killed two men, and would kill again if not stopped. They had tracked it for two days and now they had it trapped. Richius felt the weight of Jessicane in his fists. The old blade hadn't been bloodied in over a year. He hoped it would only be the cat's blood that stained it this time.

  Karlaz went first, shimmying up the rocky incline toward the mouth of the cave, his big body scraping against the stone. Next was Lucyler, as silent as the cat itself as he picked his way up the slope. Richius was the last and the clumsiest, trying vainly to keep his sword from banging against the rocks and announcing their arrival. When they had all slithered up the cliff face, they paused at the opening of the cave and peered inside. Darkness shrouded the inner chamber, but they could nonetheless see that it was vast and moist and filled with ledges and dentate stalactites. Not far inside, where the sunlight surrendered to the endless rock, they saw the unmistakable outline of a human torso. There were no legs to the thing, just two bony stumps encased in ragged flesh. The face was gone. Karlaz had once explained this odd practice of rogue lions. For some inexplicable reason, the dead eyes of their victims enraged
them, so they always went for the face first.

  "I think we've found it," Richius quipped. He stood up and peered farther into the blackness, but could see nothing more than the ruined corpse and the endless gloom of the twisting cavern. Karlaz proceeded into the cave, his twin-bladed jiiktar held out before him. Lucyler and Richius followed, quickly engulfed in the cavern's dripping darkness. Already vermin had set to work on the farmer's body. Maggots swam in the cavities of its nose and eyes, and Richius could hear the squeaking of well-fed rats. Karlaz cursed. "The lion is farther in," said Lucyler. "Be ready." It was advice Richius didn't need. All his senses were alert, picking up each tiny sound in the cavern. They stalked farther into the darkness, until the mouth of the cave became a far-off circle of brightness and they could barely see their feet beneath them. For Richius progress was slow and treacherous, but the two Triin moved with inhuman accuracy, picking their way instinctively over the terrain. Richius tried to focus on them, to use their white skin and hair as beacons. They were in a vast chamber of blue-gray rock where the air was dense and the stones rose from the earth like grotesque statues. Pockets of blackness honeycombed the walls where narrow tunnels twisted into nothingness, and the roof perspired a viscous green water that echoed as it splashed into pools a hundred feet below. But they found no lion.

  "Where is it?" asked Richius. "I can't see anything." He was getting nervous now. He could barely see the entrance to the cave, and the heat of the place made him sweat. Lucyler was licking his lips and scanning the chamber, while Karlaz had his eyes closed tight and was sniffing the dank air. When at last his eyes opened, the lion-master seemed confused. He growled something Richius barely heard.

  "He does not know where the lion is," Lucyler whispered. "The air is too thick. He cannot smell him."

  "We should go then," said Richius. "We aren't safe."

  Lucyler shook his head. "No. We have to find him. You stay here, Richius. You will not be able to see if you go any further. Karlaz and I will start searching the tunnels."

  "What? Just the two of you? Forget it. I'm coming with you."

  "No," insisted Lucyler. "You would be blind in there. Stay here."

  Richius started to protest but Lucyler and Karlaz quickly disappeared into a large tunnel, leaving him alone in the echoing chamber. He let Jessicane's tip droop to the floor. In Aramoor, he had been a king, albeit briefly. But here he was just a pink-skinned human, an outsider with none of the physical prowess of his Triin hosts. He loved Lucyler like a brother, but at times like this he resented him.

  Richius busied himself with searching the chamber. It was true what Lucyler had said; he was nearly blind. But he picked his way along carefully, watching the shadows and the ledges overhead, listening for the throaty notes of the lion's breath. Somewhere in the darkness a frog or a snake splashed through a filthy pool, and he could hear the whistle of the wind as it skirted through the hills. Yet still he could find no trace of the monster, and he wondered suddenly if the lion was stalking him instead. Uneasily he looked up. There was nothing on the ledges. He started off toward the tunnel where Lucyler and Karlaz were, then heard a panicked whinny from outside.

  Lightning!

  "Lucyler!" Richius screamed, dashing for the mouth of the cave. "I've found it!"

  Rocks and dust flew from his feet as he scrambled back through the darkness. He had Jessicane raised as the sunlight splashed across his face. Below the cliff edge, he heard the horse's manic cry, and peered down to see the beast stalking his steed, trapping it between two ridges. The thing's hind legs were taut with coiled muscles, its body poised to pounce.

  "No!" Richius screamed, flinging himself from the cliff. The lion glanced upward and widened its yellow eyes. A paw came up a moment too late as Jessicane fell. The paw split open and Richius hit the ground, rolling away from the enraged creature as it bellowed in pain.

  "Run!" Richius screamed, but Lightning wouldn't move. He merely stood in mute terror, watching the combatants. The lion opened its mouth and roared, baring its pointed fangs. Richius hurried to his feet and raised his sword, waiting for the beast to jump. The lion lowered its head. Richius took a step back. Giant haunches poised to spring. Jessicane trembled. . . .

  And then a whoop came from above, followed by a blur of muscled flesh. Karlaz was in the air. He slammed into the monster's side, driving his jiiktar into flesh. The lion pitched in agony and batted the man away, its eyes alight with hatred. It sprang for Karlaz, and the lion-master met the charge, colliding with the creature and wrapping his sinewy arms around its neck.

  Dumbfounded, Richius could barely move. Lucyler slid down the ledge and hurried toward the melee. Richius hurried after him, sword in hand. But the beast was a blur, thrashing wildly as it fought to toss Karlaz from its back. Unable to get a clean blow, Richius and Lucyler circled, jabbing at the beast. Karlaz had lost his weapon. The creature roared and fought to dislodge the man, but Karlaz's iron limbs were wrapped implacably around its throat. Blood sluiced from the lion's back and its ruined paw, and its eyes bulged from the pressure around its windpipe. But still it fought and at last threw Karlaz from its back, dashing him against the rocky ridge of the cave.

  Lucyler raced forward. The Triin moved with impossible grace, slicing his razor-thin jiiktar into the beast's hindquarters. The lion spun and thrashed, but Lucyler struck again, this time slicing its throat. The lion gasped. Its yellow eyes dimmed. Then Karlaz was on his feet again, jiiktar in hand. He raised his weapon and plunged it into the lion's brain. A fountain of blood sprayed from the skull. The beast collapsed at his feet.

  Karlaz dropped his weapon to the dirt. He knelt down beside the dead lion, put his bloodied face against its body, and kissed its hide. Then, with Richius and Lucyler watching, the lion-master of Chandakkar hung his head and wept.

  Richius and Lucyler returned to Falindar without Karlaz. The lion rider stayed in the forest to bury the creature and take its teeth for a necklace for his son. It was an odd custom, but Richius respected it, so he left Karlaz alone to grieve. He liked the lion riders. He liked their simple ways and purity. For years they had been outcasts from the rest of the Triin, a nomadic tribe from faroff Chandakkar who wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Nar's invasion had changed all that, and now the lion people were Lucel-Lor's benefactors. They stood watch over the Saccenne Run, the only land route into Lucel-Lor.

  Like all the Triin warlords, Karlaz had come to Falindar to meet with Lucyler. Lucyler was master of the citadel now. Kronin, the former warlord of the region, had no heir, and the people knew and respected Lucyler. Lucyler had accepted the position reluctantly, and said on numerous occasions that he had only one reason for taking it--peace.

  And Lucel-Lor was at peace now. The revolution that had brought the warlords together had held even after the Narens were defeated. Lucyler took no credit for this, but Richius knew his Triin friend was proud of the accomplishment. He had worked tirelessly to keep the tenuous alliance from tattering, and even the warlords appreciated his efforts. From time to time they came to the citadel to meet with Lucyler, to discuss whatever difficulties they were having. Lucyler, they knew, could refuse no one.

  But Karlaz hadn't come to the citadel to beg a favor. The man who had served Lucyler most asked the least from him, and so he had been invited to Falindar because he had never seen the spectacular place and because Lucyler simply wanted to show him some small measure of appreciation. There wasn't much in the citadel these days, but it was still a breathtaking sight and its servants could provide a fine meal. Lucyler had ordered that Karlaz be treated like a king, a reward for the sacrifices his people were making to keep Lucel-Lor safe.

  The first few days had been wonderfully good. Then the lion went rogue. Karlaz couldn't explain it any more than to say it happened sometimes to older beasts. There was a fragile link between lion and rider and on very rare occasions it was severed--either by disease or some feline senility. Richius grieved for Karlaz. He had come to love the cats t
hat kept them safe from Nar, and he could not erase the memory of Karlaz's profound sorrow. He and Lucyler rode back to Lucel-Lor under a pall, neither of them speaking.

  Falindar was beautiful. They rode up the long, wide path leading to the citadel and looked at its perfectly turned spires shining brightly in the sun. In the distance the surf pounded, filling the air with brine, and a flock of gulls passed overhead, winging their way to the ocean. On the grounds of the castle they could see the milling of servants. Blue-jacketed guardians stood watch in the towers, their milky hair long around their shoulders.

  Richius ached to see his wife and daughter again. Dyana would be worried about him. She always worried, and he loved her for it. He turned to Lucyler who was trotting along silently beside him. The Triin's face was long and distant.

  "I'm going," he told his friend. "I'll see you tonight, maybe?"

  Lucyler shrugged. "Maybe. I have things to do."

  "All right," said Richius. He started to go, then abruptly stopped himself. Lucyler glanced at him questioningly.

  "What?"

  "I'm very sorry," said Richius. "I know you didn't want this."

  Lucyler smiled awkwardly. "You are right," he said, gesturing toward the citadel. "I wanted none of this."

  "I meant Karlaz," Richius corrected. "And Hakan. But it's not your fault. Remember that, all right?"

  Lucyler spied the citadel. "Sometimes this is all too much for me. And we still do not know where Hakan is. Gods, what will I tell his wife?"

  "I'll go with you," offered Richius. "Come. We'll do it now."

  "No," said Lucyler. He straightened up in the saddle. "I have to do this myself. If I am going to be master of these people, I have to act like it."

  "What are you going to say?"

  "That he is still missing," replied Lucyler. "What else can I say?"

  Richius grimaced. "You know what I think."

  "I know," said Lucyler darkly. "And I do not believe it. It has been over a year, Richius. I think you fear ghosts."