The Edge of the World

by Kevin J. Anderson

  Knowing how much was at stake with the upcoming treaty, the king insisted that Anjine accompany him now. He could never forget the responsibility he had to his people and to his daughter. One day, he would leave Tierra in Anjine's care, and he did not want to give her a broken, war-torn land.

  Korastine glanced around for his daughter's constant companion. "Where is Mateo?" One year older than Anjine, the young man was Korastine's ward by virtue of a heartfelt promise made when Mateo's father, a captain of the royal guard, had died in the line of duty.

  "Oh, he has no trouble sleeping." Anjine lounged back against the rail. "Should I go splash a bucket of seawater in his face?"

  "Let him sleep. We're going to have a busy day when we reach port."

  As the royal cog had sailed out of Calay Harbor, Anjine and Mateo had chattered with excitement about the exotic things they were going to see. Neither had ever been to Ishalem, though they had heard plenty of stories from sailors, presters, and teachers. By the second day, however, the excitement of the voyage faded, and Mateo made it his personal mission to entertain Anjine. After the king had scolded the two children for scrambling up the mast and hanging on the rigging, Mateo devoted himself to playing strategy games with her. They hunkered down together on the deck boards, sketching out a chalk grid and making their marks. Korastine noted, proudly, that Anjine won more often than the boy did.

  Queen Sena would have argued against bringing Mateo Bornan along at all, claiming that the king had gone far beyond the requirements of his promise to care for the boy. Though he did not like to think ill of the dead, stuffy Sena was no longer with them, and Korastine could raise his daughter as he pleased.

  Now, wide-awake and eager as the ship sailed on, Anjine stood next to her father. Though her head barely came to his chin, he could think only of how tall, how mature his little girl was becoming. Where had the years gone? He felt a hint of tears welling in his eyes. By signing the Edict, he would leave her--and all his people--with a better, safer world.

  Anjine strained to see through the fog, then pointed. "Is that Aiden's Lighthouse?"

  Korastine did see a flicker, like an ember suspended in the air. "If it isn't, then we're far off course." The tall tower of sturdy rock had been erected on a jutting point of land outside oflshalem. Its light burned constantly, not just to warn ships of the reefs that lay farther south, but to represent the light of Aiden's wisdom.

  A groggy Mateo hurried across the deck, and the twelve-year old sprang onto the forecastle platform to stand between Anjine and Korastine. So full of energy, like his father had been! The dark-haired young man would make a fine soldier someday--a high-ranking officer, if Korastine had anything to do with it.

  Before long, they could see a silvery fringe of dawn on the eastern horizon. The off-watch crewmen began to awaken, and the cook stoked his stove in the galley to begin cooking breakfast. Men worked the rigging, pulling ropes to stretch the sails, now that the captain could see his heading. Ahead and to port, the shore loomed out of the shadows.

  Korastine stared at the western edge of the isthmus that separated the vast Oceansea from the calmer Middlesea. He remembered the first time he'd sailed down the coast at his own father's

  side, being trained to lead TierraHe had made the voyage

  six times now, always on matters of state, always in response to a major or minor political emergency. After this time, though...

  Finally the warm sun burned off the rest of the morning fog, and the whitewashed buildings of sprawling, majestic Ishalem came into view. Ah, he remembered the amazement and wonder with which he had first viewed the holy city. Anjine would be seeing the same thing now, through the clarity and optimism of youth.

  On the Aidenist side of the city, the architecture showed familiar Tierran influence, similar to what one might find in any

  coastal village, while in the Uraban District on the opposite side of the isthmus, the buildings looked alien, with unusual curves and angles, stuccoed rather than timbered, the roofs tiled rather

  than thatched.

  On the highest hill in the center of Ishalem stood the ruins of the Arkship, little more than a skeletal hull with one broken mast, like a giant beached sea beast, lying far from the water. Anjine pointed as soon as she spotted it. "That's the ship! Aiden's ship."

  Korastine uttered an automatic awed prayer. "Yes, the actual

  one."

  Prester-Marshall Baine appeared on deck, wearing a long, dark brown robe trimmed with purple silk. An Aidenist fishhook pendant hung at his throat, nearly covered by his unruly red beard. King Korastine not only revered the energetic religious leader, he respected Baine as an intelligent, thoughtful friend. Though he was only in his mid-thirties, Baine had reached a high position of authority and responsibility, thanks to his forceful personality and his persuasive words. The prester-marshall closed his blue eyes as he bowed in silent prayer. "The holy Arkship."

  "But how could such a big ship get so far from the water?" Mateo asked pragmatically, and Anjine gave him a brisk kick in the shin.

  The prester-marshall chided her. "Some presters might tell you never to question, but that is tantamount to telling you not to think. Ondun created us to explore, to experience. There is no harm in raising questions, and Mateo has asked a good one. That conundrum has puzzled scholars for many generations."

  Mateo flashed a vindicated grin at Anjine, but the prestermarshall didn't exactly answer his query. "Now would be a good time to reflect upon where our people came from. You have

  heard the story all your life, but when you gaze upon Ishalem, you can see in your heart that it is more than just a story.

  "At the beginning of the world, Ondun created the continents and the seas and the skies. He made His own perfect holy land, which He called Terravitae, and Ondun filled the land with crops and orchards, forests, animals, birds, and insects. He populated it with His own people. Then He made other people and scattered them across the remaining continents. When He was finished with all His work, Ondun created three special sons--Aiden, Urec, andjoron.

  "Satisfied with all that He had done, Ondun bequeathed stewardship of the world to His heirs, for He had other worlds to create, and He would soon depart. Ondun instructed Aiden, Urec, andjoron that they must keep this world intact, improve it, make it thrive. While the youngest son, Joron, remained behind to rule Terravitae, Ondun commanded that His two older sons go out in separate ships to explore His creation."

  Baine related the tale to Anjine and Mateo with an earnestness that village presters could never match. Korastine smiled: No wonder the man had risen so quickly in the church hierarchy. "Before the voyage, Ondun gave Urec a special map to show him how to find the mysteries of the world, and the key to creation. To Aiden, he gave a special compass to facilitate his return to Terravitae, for its needle was charmed always to point home."

  "Like a Captain's Compass," Mateo interrupted.

  "The very first Captain's Compass," Anjine corrected.

  "Aiden and Urec each constructed a giant Arkship, and taking their crews and families with them, sailed away from Terravitae on separate routes. But Urec was arrogant and sure of himself. He would explore the world, but considered the map an insult to his bravery, a way of cheating. Urec threw the chart overboard and chose his own course." Baine raised his bushy red

  eyebrows for dramatic effect. "Now, the Urecari will tell it differently, because such foolishness does not reflect well upon the man they consider their prophet! But we have the Book of Aiden to tell us the truth."

  The prester-marshall looked up as the cog sailed toward the crowded maze of wharves. "We know that one of Aiden's crew members was secretly a spy for Urec, though the Urecari deny it. As soon as Aiden's ship passed well beyond sight of Terravitae, the Urecari spy damaged the sacred compass so that Aiden, too, became lost.

  "After voyaging aimlessly for years, Aiden's ship came to rest here. The crew intermarried with the people of Tierra, and their descendants n
ow populate half the world. When Urec's ship landed, he, his crew, and their children settled in Uraba to the south."

  As the royal ship pulled into the harbor, Korastine saw the buildings clustered like devout worshippers kneeling before the many-spired Aidenist kirk built on the western side of the Ark ship hill. The cog drifted up to a long dock festooned with pennants and garlands. Gulls greeted them with a raucous fanfare. Ishalem looked so glorious that Korastine could almost believe that their meeting was blessed by Ondun.

  Anjine glanced up toward the gigantic wreck on the hill. "So how do we know that's Aiden's ship, instead of Urec's--as the Urecari say?"

  "Because we know. Yes, we know."

  3 The Soldan-Shah's Galley, on the Middlesea

  A sea serpent rose up in front of the gilded ship before SoldanShah Imir could reach Ishalem, and the crew prepared for an attack.

  The silken mainsail tilted on its yardarm to capture crosswinds as the narrow galley, a dromond, cut across the Middle sea. Imir stood at the pointed bow, where he could feel the salt spray, straining to see the low coastline of the isthmus, though he knew they were at least half a day from their destination.

  The huge sea serpent rose up barely a spear's throw from the bow, startling Imir out of his thoughts. The monstrous head breached the waves on a long stalk of neck covered with shimmering blue and silver scales; seawater sheeted down from the sinuous form. A jagged line of fins coursed the neck like an aquatic mane, and the serpent's reptilian jaws parted to display curved teeth and a forked tongue. The gleaming eyes were the black of the Middlesea's greatest depths; two long horns curved from the skull, deadly enough to gore a whale. The creature flared a set of scalloped gills and emitted an ominous bellowing hoot, as though challenging the dromond's right to cross the open water. A shrill jet of steam blasted from the blowhole on the back of the beast's head, vapors that were said to be poisonous.

  The galley's captain shouted orders, drums goaded the slaves to pull their oars faster, turning the ship. But this monster was a demon of the sea, created by Ondun Himself to be a sleek, fast

  predator on the open waters. No matter how swiftly they rowed, this ship could not outrun the serpent.

  The dromond's crew gathered spears; some ran forward with shields to protect their leader. Imir glowered at the beast. Though the creature could have plucked him from the deck like a honeyed date from a serving platter, he dared not show fear in front of the crew. "I am the soldan-shah! Allow me to pass!"

  The lead sikara priestess strode boldly to Imir's side. UrSikara Lukai's long hair was the dark brown color of scorched wood, and her scarlet robes whipped around her slender body in the brisk wind as if she were engulfed in fabric flames. Her dark eyes could be quite beautiful when her expression softened, but her expression was not soft now. "Begone!" She raised her hand to the silvery-blue monster. "In the name of Urec, I cast you back to the depths. We are on the holy business of Ondun. Begone!" She leaned across the prow, both arms extended, and her voice rose to a fearsome screech. "Begone!"

  The serpent regarded her curiously. Its enormous body undulated as it swam to and fro, still blocking the dromond's path, and another jet of spray came from its blowhole. The rowers had finally turned the ship so that the mainsail could catch the wind fully, but the serpent casually kept pace, emitting another strange bellowing hoot. Finally, bored with its unusual prey, the scaled monster circled the vessel once more, then submerged, its sharp dorsal fins tracing a sawblade pattern through the water as it swam off.

  Ur-Sikara Lukai seemed satisfied with the demonstration of her powers. "You are fortunate to have me here, Soldan-Shah. I drove the monster away."

  He regarded her wryly and kept his voice low. "I am even more fortunate that it was a silver-blue serpent, for I know those rarely attack."

  Lukai was surprised by his comment, but she admitted nothing. "Sea serpents are unpredictable. It is wise to have Urec's shield."

  As the galley turned toward Ishalem, Imir shuddered to imagine what might have occurred between Tierra and Uraba if he were unexpectedly killed here, like this, in the Middlesea. He had left his older son and heir, Omra, back in the capital city of Olabar to make decisions and to manage the various soldanates in his absence. Omra was an intelligent man and a good leader... but he might have been forced into action.

  King Korastine would have been blamed for some treachery, and the resulting war would have been worse than if they had never tried to make peace at all.

  Fillok, younger brother of the soldan of Outer Wahilir, had been arrogant and brash, and he failed to think of the consequences of his actions. He had probably considered himself brave to provoke the Tierran trading ship, and all he had received was a harpoon through his chest.

  Though the soldan-shah did not sanction Fillok's foolish action, once the man had gotten himself killed, Imir was unable to ignore the provocation. But knowing that both sides benefited far more from trade than from open warfare, he refused to let himself get drawn into further conflict. Now that Ambassador Giladen had worked out terms, Imir and Korastine would put an end to the tensions.

  The soldan-shah's head and cheeks were clean-shaven, his scalp oiled. Years ago Lithio, his first wife, had fretted so much over the appearance of his beard and hair that one morning Imir had shaved himself clean in hopes of silencing her. Instead, Lithio had told him he looked handsome that way. He didn't believe that she actually thought that, but Lithio had a talent for frustrating him. After she had borne the requisite son and heir,

  he had been happy to "allow" her to return to her native soldanate of Missinia, where she'd lived a quiet and comfortable life for the past twenty years.

  His second wife, Asha, who divided her time between her private villa near the Olabar palace and the soldan-shah's guest residence in Ishalem, was much more adoring and attentive... but utterly obsessed with her pets. Any animal that Ondun had seen fit to place upon His world, Asha wanted to keep and adore. Imir had not seen her in months and looked forward to their reunion in Ishalem, though he did not relish the prospect of all the noise from the hounds, songbirds, cats, peacocks, and whatever other creatures she had managed to acquire in the meantime.

  As the burning coppery sun settled to the horizon, Imir could see the distinct line of the isthmus like a barrier against the setting sun. As they neared the eastern curve of the sandy harbor, pelicans wheeled overhead. Fishing boats plied the waters, bringing in the day's catch; small sailing craft dipped out to deeper water, then circled back in toward the coastline. Though the day was clear and bright, the smoky torch of Urec's Lighthouse had been lit as soon as spotters saw the approach of the soldan-shah's dromond.

  Even from far away, Imir could see the great hulk of the Ark ship, Urec's ship, washed high and dry upon the tallest hill. The prime Urecari church, a lovely construction comprised of a central dome surrounded by tall, thin spires, was an unmistakable landmark on the eastern hillside below the wreck.

  Ur-Sikara Lukai rejoined him, pointed to where a slow moving passenger barge emerged from the city's main canal and proceeded toward them. "Look, Asha is coming to welcome you." Her tone dripped with disrespect.

  Imir hardened his voice. "Asha means well, and you will be polite to her. That is my command."

  The ur-sikara gave him a sour look, but he insisted, and she finally bowed slightly. "As the soldan-shah wishes."

  Though she had her own power as the church's lead priestess, Lukai was also close friends with Villiki, the soldan-shah's third wife and mother of Imir's second son. Villiki stridently expressed her opinions of her husband's leadership and complained frequently to Lukai. He supposed he was lucky, in a way, that only one of his three wives was so obviously ambitious. Men had their wars, but women had their schemes.

  Asha never harbored an unkind thought toward anyone, and it was her childlike innocence that had endeared her to him in the first place (as well as her exceptional body). Her welcome barge approached, and Imir realized he was smiling
. She must have spent days festooning the barge with garlands and ribbons. Now she stood waving at him, accompanied by three small dogs that yapped constantly. But even that did not discourage the soldanshah; he hoped Asha had prepared a private--quiet--room for the two of them... someplace without her pets. He needed a good night's sleep before the all-important Edict ceremony.

  Olabar

  Zarif Omra loved to study maps of the world--not out of mere intellectual curiosity, but in order to understand the resources, boundaries, and limitations of Uraba. "Tactical geography," he called it. Sitting in the palace throne room, Omra traced his finger along the lines on the chart spread out on his mahogany side table while he waited for the first supplicants to be shown in. He needed to familiarize himself with the entire continent he would

  one day rule. He was only twenty-four, but there had never been any doubt he would succeed the soldan-shah.

  Uraba was defined by sea and sand, anchored in place by Ishalem, and divided into five soldanates. The lands north of Ishalem were much sketchier, since few details of Tierra were known to Uraban cartographers. Zarif Omra did not worry about those unfamiliar lands, however. When his father retired, Omra would have enough work simply managing his own people.

  Now that Imir had sailed off to Ishalem, Omra got a taste of the work that lay in store for him. He wore a loose purple chalwar and a sleeveless tunic; he rested comfortably upon the cushions piled upon the dais, from which he would listen to supplicants. A gold earring hung from his left ear in the fashion of the Missinia soldanate, to honor his mother. While his father had gone soft and heavyset, Omra was fit and muscular, his lean face edged by a neatly trimmed black beard. His hair was long and oiled, and sometimes he let his beloved wife, Istar, plait it for him. Teasingly, he threatened to shave his head as his father had done, but Istar had convinced him how much she liked his hair. She was now pregnant with his firstborn child, and he could deny her nothing.