“Menish, Menish,” cried Vorish as he approached him, took his hands and embraced him. “Come, sit here. Make yourself comfortable. You've eaten well enough? Some wine?” A servant stood behind Vorish and he set a goblet of wine before Menish. “How are you? You look tired.”
Menish sank back in his cushions.
“Tired? Yes. You know we travelled by sea.”
“I know. And you bring a man with you that people are pleased to name ‘Kopth’, although some call him ‘Gilish’. His real name is, I believe, Azkun.” He always came straight to the point.
“That is what we named him when he came out of the Chasm of Kelerish.’
“So that part's true? And he was flamed by a dragon?”
Menish nodded.
“And the lightning?”
“You're well informed. I thought we'd told no one about the dragon.”
“A ship left Deenar just before you and arrived here yesterday. One of them remembered a remark made by this Azkun to that effect. I don't think the man who heard it realised what was meant.” That was typical of Vorish. He often found out more than his informants knew from their own words. Menish took a sip of wine and gave him a brief account of Azkun’s doings. Even now he omitted any mention of Thalissa.
“…and you'll have heard of the incident in the street below. A knife fight, one man with a knife in his chest anyway. I would have given up. Azkun revived him somehow. I don't know how he got the blood out of his lungs.”
“I was told the man actually died.”
“Dead men don't wake up. He can't have died.”
Vorish raised one eyebrow questioningly. It was a habit he had learned from Menish though neither of them realised it.
“I've given orders for the man to be taken to the infirmary. The priestesses there will examine him and we will know more.”
He was silent for a long moment, his bright eyes looking at Menish intently. Weighing and measuring again. He had always been like that, even as a child.
“What are you not telling me, Menish? What happened at Lianar? Why were you at Kelerish in the first place?”
“Dismiss the servants.”
A gesture from Vorish and they were gone. Menish drew a deep breath, preparing himself for the ordeal. Was there any way he could prevent Vorish from killing Thalissa?
“She's alive. Thalissa, your mother, is alive.”
Vorish looked at Menish blankly for a moment.
“I know.”
“What?”
“Some years ago Angoth… you remember Angoth? He was in Lianar assessing the situation with the northern chiefs. A trustworthy man. He remembered her and he brought news to me. I've had her watched from time to time but she's harmless. And,” he added with a wry grin, “she is my mother.”
“I thought you'd kill her if you knew. She would have killed you if that had been my price to rescue her from Thealum.”
“Do you think so?”
“It's what she said. That's why I left her and took you.”
“Perhaps she would have. Let's not dwell on old crimes. You've not taught me to hate her as you have others. How did you find her?”
Menish allowed the accusation. He knew it was just.
“I saw her in the road. It was Azkun who saw Tenari, and Tenari was in her care. Later we were able to speak. I had to tread carefully, Althak and Hrangil would not be as generous as you.”
“And how is she?”
“She hates me more than ever. I took Tenari away from her. Tenari was found at the Chasm mouth by a fisherman, as she was herself. The same fisherman, incidentally. She bore a child in the Chasm and believed it was Tenari.”
“You disagree, you think it was Azkun.” Menish nodded. Vorish was very quick. “That would make him my half brother. Why do you think so?”
“He has her eyes, and something of her looks now that he's clean.”
“Who was the father?”
“Who knows? Some Vorthenki Thalissa found it useful to make her bed with.”
“Just because we know this does not dismiss the claims of Godhead.”
“Why not? He's the son of Thalissa. He's a man. Flame of Aton! You are not going to take on Hrangil’s foolishness? It's driving me mad.”
“Then leave that aside. You've not told me what you were doing at Kelerish in the first place. You've never been there before, except for your initiation, I suppose.”
“That was the only other time, yes. You'll find this hard to believe. I had dreams. Have you ever had such dreams? They haunted me every night. I feared sleep. They were so vivid, so terrifying. I dreamed I saw the skeleton of Thalissa climb out of the Chasm at the Tor. It makes my skin crawl to remember it.”
“So you went to the Tor to show yourself it was nonsense.”
“Exactly, and Azkun emerged and was blasted with dragon fire.”
“How strange. When did Tenari emerge?”
“What? Oh, Althak said it must have been about the same time. Why do you ask? She's a little curious, but it's Azkun who concerns me most.”
“Perhaps. But she doesn't eat either, does she? Do all folk who enter the place and manage to leave have this strangeness? But there's more, isn't there?”
“The skeleton, Thalissa, except she's alive now after all, it spoke. It told me of another attack from Gashan. It told me I'd die in the battle.”
“I remember a time you would have thrashed me soundly for concerning myself with dreams. You'd have called me a Vorthenki brat and turned me out with a crust of bread for my supper.” He smiled as he spoke and there was amusement in his voice, not malice.
“You never dreamed these dreams!” said Menish, suddenly angry. “I know what I've said. I know I've always rejected such things. But what else can I think? The dream was half true. Thalissa's son came out of the Chasm alive instead of her skeleton. What if the words are half true? Or what if they are the truest part of all?”
“You fear the possibility of a Gashan attack on the strength of a dream?”
“It costs me much to admit it, but yes I do.”
Again Vorish was silent for a moment, then he spoke.
“Naturally you want me to send reinforcements. It's a lot to ask. Though you, Menish, may ask much of me. I've not forgotten my debts to you.” He paused again as Menish’s anger subsided. “Let's say, for the moment, that I accept this dream as a portent of a Gashan attack. In that case my resources are at your disposal. Don't think me generous, I've no wish to see the Gashans threatening my borders if they over-run Anthor. Gilish III was of the same mind when he mounted his expeditions there. May the servant return?”
Menish nodded and Vorish struck a tiny gong that lay on the table. A moment later the man who had poured the wine stepped into the room.
“Fetch the Gash-Tal from the library.” Without a word the man nodded and left. “I'll read it tonight. I looked it over some years ago and I know there's good information on how they managed their supply lines and troop deployments. Your memories of the last time they attacked will help too, but I would hope this time we were better prepared. Now, how precise were Thalissa's words?”
Menish shook his head at the absurdity of it. It was a dream, and the woman he had dreamed of was alive anyway.
“She said a lot of things about me being responsible for her death.”
“Which we can discount because we know she is alive. Go on.”
“And she said the Gashans would attack in the spring.”
“This spring? You mean in six months?”
“Now that you ask it I don't know. I assumed it was this spring. She was recounting the story of my death with some relish and it did not seem as though it would be a distant event.”
“So we have at least six months. Where exactly did you meet them last time?”
“There's a plain that opens out in the middle of the mountains and an old road across it. That's where Gilish III met them, with more success than we did.”
“You beat them. It w
as a costly victory, but you won. How many days to get to this plain? Is there water? Ah, you used water from a river last time. How big is the river?”
“What? Not very big. A large stream really. Snow melt. It's cold. They'll be watching for the trick I used last time.”
“I'm thinking about drinking water. We might have to wait for them for weeks with an army in the field. I assume the place is barren of food?”
“There are woods, so there will be game to hunt. No one lives there so no grain fields.”
“Days to get there?”
“Oh, about four weeks with good horses and good men. That's from Meyathal so add another three weeks to get from here.”
“Troops travel half that speed, especially across Relanor where the post horses speed everything up for small parties like yours. We can't use them for troops, of course. They'll have supply wagons and herd animals. Ten weeks travelling, then, allow twelve weeks for contingency. At least we won't need to carry much water.
“I recall you fielded five thousand men last time and it wasn't enough. All cavalry I think. How many heavy cavalry?”
“Two thousand and the rest light. A thousand from Anthor. It would have been enough if they hadn't blasted us with fire. The Gashans were all on foot, although there were more of them than us. You know a good cavalry can mow down infantry. But not when the horsemen are being burned in their saddles.”
Vorish seemed to be counting, his eyes looked past Menish.
“I can field fifteen thousand horse without leaving Relanor undefended. Most of them will be lightly armed, but I can make a third of them heavy cavalry. You can raise, how many? Three thousand?”
Trust Vorish to know his numbers better than he did himself.
“Close enough. All light cavalry, of course.”
“I know how Anthor fights.”
“So you'll send these reinforcements? On the strength of my dream?”
“No,” Vorish said. “That'd be foolish at this stage. We don't have enough information. All we know is that there might be a Gashan attack. We have to prepare for the possibility, not the certainty.”
“You think I'm getting old. You're trying to humour me,” said Menish through his teeth.
“I am not trying to humour you!” shouted Vorish, thumping the table. Even through his own anger Menish observed that Vorish was carefully in control of himself. The outburst was calculated, not spontaneous. “You have to admit that the dream was inaccurate. Merely a pointer to what really happened. This tale of Gashan may be just as wide of the mark. Do you really want me to send men to Ristalshuz to wait for a battle while Relanor itself is attacked from another foe that your dream was really trying to warn us of?”
“The alternative is to sit here safely in Atonir while Anthor is laid waste. If you don't start moving your men months before we expect Gashan then you need not come at all. The dead of Anthor won't welcome you.”
“The alternative is to find out more about what is happening in Gashan before we commit ourselves to a course of action we may regret.”
“Find out? How?”
“By going there. A small expedition, just a few men. Quickly in and quickly out. They find out what the Gashans are doing and report back.”
“You don't know what you're saying. Gashan is a fearsome place-”
“It's been done before, I believe,” continued Vorish. “In the time of Gilish III spies were sent into Gashan before the main expedition. Most returned safely, in spite of the dreadful tales they spread.” He looked at Menish strangely for a moment. “There is another reason for venturing into Gashan.”
“What other reason?”
“They have the Duzral Eye.’
“What has that to do with it? We both know the Duzral Eye was useless against them last time. It didn't help Telish IV, though he trusted his life to it. I'll not hear tales of the Duzral Eye.”
“Gilish III, if I remember correctly, claimed to have defeated the Gashans with it.”
“Tales, idle tales. It's all nonsense. Vorish, I was there when Telish died. The Eye has no power. None at all. You know my feelings on this matter. Forget the Eye.”
“I've read things about this Eye. It's not as easily dismissed as you'd wish. I don't necessarily believe all of these tales, but I can't simply ignore the possibilities. Menish, if you ask me to listen to your dreams you can listen to my tales. The Eye may be more than you suppose. It may have done nothing for Telish IV, but it appears to have been the key to Gilish III’s victory over Gashan in 583.”
“What about the Eye, then?” said Menish reluctantly.
“If it's the fearsome weapon it's said to be I would like to know if the Gashans have found a way to use it.”
“Another reason to enter Gashan.”
“Exactly. Your dream, my tales. The question is who to send there. The choice isn't large. I gather this Eye is not easy to recognise, there are few who have seen it left. The Sons of Gilish were so secretive about such things. Hrangil is the obvious choice. There's an old priest of Aton in the palace who says he saw it, but he's not up to such a journey.”
“I can't send Hrangil alone.”
“No. I'd suggest Althak and Grath. If anyone can find their way in and out of Gashan those two can. There's one other I'd like you to send: Azkun.”
“Azkun?”
“Yes. He's done strange things since you found him. What if he took the Eye from the Gashans and knew how to use it? I can't think of a better method of trying this brother-god of mine.”
His quizzical smile reminded Menish that the peasant folk of Relanor, the ones who had survived the Vorthenki invasion, had always worshipped the Emperor as a god.
“Don't expect him to fight battles for us. He won't kill anyone.”
“We'll see.”
Chapter 16: The Banquet
Azkun and the others passed the time sitting in their courtyard finishing their meal, talking and trying to coax Tenari into speaking. Hrangil had left them to visit the fire tower that lay in the temple enclosure in the palace. He had asked Azkun to accompany him and Azkun had been willing to follow him. But Tenari had insistently clung to him and women were not allowed there. Hrangil went alone.
Tenari was even stranger to him now. Before she had appeared so blank in mind and body that she was merely mysterious. Now she was contradictory. In an attempt to encourage her to sing Keashil played for them. She said she had known someone once who could not speak but who could sing. Her fingers plucked a lively tune from Althak’s harp as she sang an old Relanese song that had their feet tapping in a moment.
Tenari’s reaction surprised them. She did not sing but she leapt to her feet and began to dance. Her bare feet skipped across the marble floor as she twirled and twisted, weaving her arms in a complex pattern that seemed to echo Keashil’s words.
“Hrangil and M’Lord would not appreciate this,” remarked Althak as she shimmied delightfully before them, and he was probably right. Her dance was rather reminiscent of the dance of the Vorthenki women in Deenar.
But it was for Azkun alone. It was he who commanded her smiling gaze and it was to him she returned when Keashil’s song ended.
“At least she can do something interesting,” said Drinagish dryly.
“You'd best not let M’Lord hear you say that,” smiled Althak.
By the time Menish returned servants had lit torches around the courtyard and it flickered with light and shadow. He said little of his talk with the Emperor, only that he was well and that there would be a feast that night.
Hrangil returned shortly after Menish. He looked as if he were filled with solemnity and holiness, as if perhaps they should all bow to him in recognition of the honours he had bestowed upon himself.
“I have been to the fire tower itself,” he announced in a hushed voice. “You should have come.”
“Perhaps tomorrow,” said Menish unenthusiastically.
“Did they have anything to say about Azkun?” asked Drinagish.
“You would know if you'd come with me,” Hrangil almost snapped at him. “I stood before the fire, in the presence of Aton himself. The priesthood is not what it was, of course, but Aton is always the same.”
“But what did they say?”
“They are fools,” said Hrangil, suddenly angry. “They refuse to accept what is clearly written in the Mish-Tal. When I told them about Azkun they wouldn't listen to me. The audacity of it! Only one of them has even seen the Duzral Eye. They are much lowered from their old heights.”
“So they didn't agree with you,” said Menish. “What do they think he is?”
At this Hrangil almost spat.
“It was disgusting. They've lost the truth of Aton. One of them suggested he might be one of the Vorthenki demigods.”
“So I am not to be Kopth now?” asked Azkun with a grin. “I have been debased it seems.”
Hrangil turned a look of concern to him but said nothing.
“So we know nothing more, as I expected,” Menish shrugged.
That evening they were summoned to the Sword Hall by servants, who led them down torch-lit corridors. They were not alone in their journey. Folk dressed in fine clothes that rustled and sparkled with gold and silver fell in with them or went ahead. The whole palace was on the move towards the great hall.
The Sword Hall itself was immense, so immense that it could not be lit adequately. A huge fire crackled and sparked in its centre and near it stood a canopied, golden throne, its arms formed into the shapes of horses. But that was the only resemblance to Darven's house in Deenar. The hall was so wide that it was difficult to see a man’s face clearly across it and it was much longer than it was wide. The stone walls rose to a ceiling so high above it was lost in the darkness.
Lamps glowed all around the walls at about the height of a Vorthenki’s head and others hung from long chains that disappeared into the gloom above.
A constant stream of people entered the hall through various doors and found places at the benches and tables that crowded the rush-strewn floor. Shouts of greeting, laughter and conversation echoed around the hall.
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