by Julian May
“Prince Tolo?” the old Nyssomu hunter said. “Is that you?”
Just then the namp gave a grotesque hiccough, shuddered, and blinked its eyes rapidly. Tolivar, Jagun, and the knights made haste to move back from the edge of the hole as the creature hiccoughed again, showing row after row of stained, pointed teeth. The namp’s shuddering turned into violent spasms, punctuated by gagging sounds. Suddenly its maw gaped wide like the opening of a titantic, fang-fringed sack, and there was a thunderous eructation.
A slender silvery container flew through the air, accompanied by a quantity of phlegm, and landed at Jagun’s feet. Thus relieved, the namp sighed, shook itself, and burrowed down until only its half-closed eyes remained above ground, glowing faintly in the dimness of the pit.
There was a crackling sound in the underbrush and Kadiya emerged.
“You have returned safely!” Jagun exclaimed. “Praise be to the Triune!”
“Indeed,” she replied, “and I have met with some success. But before I speak of it, let me introduce you to a certain wizard.” Swiftly, she circled the namp’s hole to where the two footprints indented the ground and seized something that seemed naught but thin air. “You may as well turn yourself visible, Tolo.”
The Prince appeared, crowned with the Three-Headed Monster and having the Three-Lobed Burning Eye still in one grubby hand. His cheeks were streaked with tears. Kadiya had hold of him by the back of his jerkin, and even though they two were nearly of a size, Tolivar seemed helpless in her grip, like the newly captured prey of a lothok, numbly resigned to its fate.
“This is the wizard who saved our lives?” Sir Edinar gasped.
“Impossible!” said Sainlat.
“He wears the magical coronet,” Melpotis pointed out, “and carries the talisman stolen from the Lady of the Eyes.”
“But he is only a child,” Kalepo scoffed.
“I slew the Glismak and healed your wounds,” Tolivar said in a dull voice. “I am a sorcerer, and your contempt will not make it otherwise.”
“You are also a thief,” Kadiya said calmly, “but that is by the bye.” Firmly, she guided the Prince to the slime-covered star-box. “Open it!”
As though overcome with an immense fatigue, Tolivar obeyed. When she commanded him to place the Three-Lobed Burning Eye within, he obeyed without speaking a word. Then the Lady of the Eyes made finger play upon the gemstones within the box. There was a blaze of light and a musical sound. A moment later Kadiya took up the magic sword with a triumphant smile, holding it in both hands by the dull-edged blade with the hilt upright.
“Talisman,” she asked, “are you once again mine own? Is your power restored?”
Nestled amongst the conjoined knobs on the sword’s pommel was Kadiya’s trillium-amber, shining like a tiny flame in the deepening twilight. The dark lobes seemed to split open, and three gleaming Eyes that mirrored those on her golden-scaled cuirass gazed at her.
I am bonded to you, Lady, and fully potentiated.
“Good,” she said. “Now I command you to shield me and my companions from the Sight of Orogastus and all his Star Guild.”
It is done.
The Eyes closed and Kadiya thrust the sword into her belt and addressed the others. “Jagun, please take charge of the star-box.”
“Certainly, Farseer.”
“We cannot tarry here any longer,” she said. “The sun is descending and we must pass through the viaduct. Someone waits for us at the other end who has promised to help us reach the city of Brandoba, where the Emperor Denombo resides, but he will not wait long.”
Edinar exclaimed, “So the passageway does lead to the land of Sobrania?”
“Yes.”
“And the Star Men?” Melpotis inquired. “Have they conquered the country?”
“Not yet,” Kadiya said. She turned to Prince Tolivar. “Before we move on, I want you to give me the Three-Headed Monster for safekeeping. Jagun! Open the star-box.”
The boy took a step backward. The life had come back into his face. Eyes wide with dread, he lifted his hands to hold the coronet tight to his head. His voice was a broken whisper. “No! I—I will never give up my talisman. Not while I live!”
“It is not yours,” Kadiya said. “It belongs to your mother, just as the Three-Winged Circle belongs to the Archimage Haramis, and this Three-Lobed Burning Eye belongs to me.”
“Mother gave the talisman freely to Orogastus,” the Prince said stubbornly.
“To ransom you and your Royal Father!” Kadiya exclaimed in a terrible voice. She snatched the star-box from Jagun and advanced upon Tolivar, holding it open. “Place the coronet inside the box.”
“No,” the boy whispered.
She drew the black, broken sword from her belt and lifted it to Tolivar’s forehead, holding it less than a finger’s width from the coronet’s rim. The three Eyes opened. “Tolo, do as I say. Give up the talisman.”
“Do not touch it!” he warned, desperation in his eyes. “You know it will kill you if you try to take it from its bonded owner. I was only able to secure it myself because Orogastus had lent it to his Yellow Voice, who was not so protected.”
For several heartbeats she glared at him, but his willpower was too strong. “Keep it then, for what good it may do you.” Kadiya whirled the sword away and slammed it into her belt. The three-lobed pommel once again seemed only black metal. “Sainlat, Melpotis—take Tolo back to the riverboat.”
“No!” the Prince cried. “I have vowed to rescue Mother! If you try to send me away, I will use magic to thwart you.”
“Farseer,” Jagun spoke urgently to Kadiya. “Perhaps it would be best if the Prince did accompany us. He may be able to assist in the rescue of Queen Anigel, since it is evident that he has some expertise in commanding his talisman.”
“His invisibility trick was actually rather impressive,” Sir Edinar remarked.
“And his healing of us,” Sainlat added encouragingly, “was even more so. I was myself at the point of death, and now I am not only restored but quite invigorated.”
The other knights murmured agreement.
Kadiya regarded the boy with a thoughtful scowl.
Jagun continued. “When his mother is safe with us, he can then give the talisman to her.” The little old Nyssomu said to the Prince: “Will you do that, Hiddenheart?”
At the sound of his mire-name, given him by the dead Ralabun, the Prince flinched, but he made no reply.
More patiently, Kadiya said: “Tolo, if I allow you to go with us, will you promise to submit to my leadership, and desist from wreaking any magic through the coronet without my express permission?”
The Prince hesitated, his mouth tightening. But he finally said, “I do promise.”
Kadiya was about to demand that he also promise to return his talisman to Anigel; but she feared that the boy might continue to balk, and perhaps even attempt to flee, invisible, if she pressed the point. Besides, he was much more likely to give up the coronet at the request of the Queen herself.
She sighed. “Very well. Now let us prepare to pass through the viaduct. There are no Star Men or other villains on the other side, but the person who does wait, a man of the Folk who has consented to guide us, is of a nervous and fearful temperament and may go off without us if we do not hasten.”
“Wait!” cried the Prince. He went to the edge of the namp’s pit. “Aunt, this miserable creature murdered my poor friend, Ralabun. I do not know if my magical coronet will kill it, but I ask you to let me make the attempt.”
“But the namp did not commit murder,” the Lady of the Eyes said. “It is only a wild animal, not having the faculty of reason. It sought food in its customary fashion, without malice. It would be unjust to slay it now, in cold blood. Don’t you understand that, Tolo?”
“No.” The boy would not look at Kadiya.
Her voice hardened. “Then let the creature live because I command you to.” She turned her back on him and set off down the hill with Jagun and the k
nights following.
“But I must kill it!” the Prince cried in desperation. “I must!”
Kadiya glanced at him briefly over her shoulder. “You will not and must not, because the namp is not to blame for Ralabun’s death. Someone else is, as you know already deep within your heart.”
The color drained from Tolivar’s face. He said not another word, but came down the hill after the others.
16
The tiny sound made by the door opening caused the Queen to regain her senses fully at last, but she kept her eyes closed. Footsteps approached her bed. A woman’s voice, vibrant and imperious, spoke.
“She should be fully restored by now, Star Master.”
A man gave a grunt of agreement.
“There was no way we could take the Black Trillium from her, however. Not even the power of the Star sufficed. When touched, both amulet and chain seemed to become white-hot. They did not burn her flesh, but only that of the person trying to grasp them. We even used tongs and other instruments, but these either burst into flame, or else became too hot to hold.”
“Never mind. I don’t think the amber can harm us. It only protects her. Now give me the diagnostic contrivance.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Queen Anigel!” The man’s voice was all too familiar. “Wake up.”
She opened her eyes.
Two people dressed in the black-and-silver robes of the Star Guild stood looking down at her. One was a tall woman, the very spit and image of the beautiful redheaded she-warrior of the feather tapestry on the bedchamber wall behind her.
At her side was Orogastus.
“Now I understand everything!” Anigel said to him with icy anger. “When your scheme to drown me failed, you kidnapped me through that damned viaduct.”
“Good afternoon, Majesty,” the sorcerer said politely. He was holding a small metallic device, which he held momentarily against her forehead. It squeaked faintly, whereupon he gave a nod of satisfaction and pressed the thing to her covered belly. She uttered an angry protest, to which he paid no attention, only tucking the little machine away into his robe and smiling.
“You will be happy to know that you are quite recovered from your recent injuries. Your unborn sons are likewise in good health. As to your drowning, that was not my plan at all, and the cack-handed fool who so clumsily engineered it has been reprimanded.”
“Where is my Nyssomu nurse, Immu?” Anigel demanded. “She was swept away into the flood with me. Do you hold her captive as well?”
The sorcerer shook his head. “I know naught of her. There was only a single Ruwendian knight and some men-at-arms there in the Mazy Mire, who attacked my servants as they were carrying you through the viaduct.”
“Sir Olevik! What happened to him?”
Orogastus shrugged. “He and his men were killed in the affray, blasted to ashes by our invincible weapons.”
The sorcerer’s offhandedness filled the Queen with renewed indignation. “Free me!” she cried, straining at her bonds. “How dare you tie me to the bed like some base criminal?”
Orogastus said, “The restraints were only to keep you from squirming during the six days that you healed, unconscious. We could not have your valued bones mend crooked.”
“Why have you abducted me? I give you fair warning—neither my Royal Husband nor the Archimage Haramis will submit to you in order to spare my life and those of the babes I carry. I am no longer the coward who supinely handed you her talisman four years ago! Now I am prepared to die if your evil schemes are thereby defeated.”
Orogastus smiled and pushed back his long white hair with one slender hand. “I would much prefer that you live, Queen Anigel, but the decision is entirely up to you. We shall discuss the matter later.” He turned to the female of the Star Guild. “Naelore—loose the Queen and help her to dress, then conduct her to the secure hall. I will be waiting with the others.” He left the room, closing the door behind him.
Not bothering to disguise her contempt, the Star Woman flipped the coverlet from Anigel’s body. “I shall serve as your tiring-maid this once, Queen. But if it had been up to me, you would have done your recovery in the dungeons, together with your haughty fellow-rulers.”
“What? You hold other monarchs captive as well? Who?”
Naelore bent to Anigel’s ankles, releasing them, then unfastened the padded cuffs at her wrists. “You’ll find out about that soon enough.” None too gently, the Star Woman helped the Queen to sit up.
Anigel discovered that she was swaddled about the loins like an infant, otherwise naked except for her Black Trillium amulet. Peculiar yellowish material, delicate and shriveled as the skin of a boiled yarkil, fell away in shreds from her right shin, her left forearm, and the left side of her rib cage when she swung her feet slowly to the floor. Another great patch of the stuff dropped from her left shoulder, disintegrating into fine flakes as it fell among the bedclothes.
“What is this?” Anigel asked, brushing it from her body.
“Bone-mender,” the redheaded woman said shortly. “Part of the Master’s miraculous paraphernalia.” She rummaged in a cupboard and set out underlinen, then opened a chest and shook out a curiously styled gown of grass-green brocade. It was very light in weight, having a myriad of tiny yellow feather rosettes affixed to it with embroidery.
Anigel stretched, running her fingers through her unbound blond hair. It seemed quite clean. “I suppose my other garments were ruined.”
“As was your regal body, until the Master worked his healing enchantment upon it.” Naelore’s lips twisted in a fastidious grimace. “There is a basin and a ewer for washing in that alcove, and a necessarium behind the small door. Don’t dawdle about.”
Anigel did not condescend to reply, but made her toilette as quickly as she could. She donned the undergarments and the dress, then coiled her hair at the nape of her neck and fastened it with two gilded wooden pins. Naelore had laid out a yellow-and-green featherwork girdle for her waist and a cloak of ocher wool. Soft shoes of brown leather with emerald feather puffs completed the outfit.
Anigel surveyed herself with pleased satisfaction, arranging the amber amulet with its fossil Black Trillium so that it lay on her breast. “Thank you for providing me with suitable attire, Naelore.”
“It was not I,” the Star Woman replied brusquely, “but our Master who selected your clothes. And here is one last ornament for you to put on.” She held out a pair of golden wrist-gyves connected by a chain. In silence, Anigel allowed herself to be shackled.
“Now come along,” Naelore commanded. “They will be waiting for us.” She headed for the door.
“One question,” Anigel said, pausing before the feather tapestry showing the female warrior among the fiery fountains. “Is this a depiction of you yourself?”
“No,” said the Star Woman. For the first time a smile untinged by discourtesy touched her lips. “It is my ancestress, for whom I was named, and who built this castle. She also was unjustly deprived of her empire. But she regained it—as I shall, very soon.”
Anigel followed Naelore through stone corridors, looking about with keen interest. Could this place possibly be the headquarters of the Star Guild that Haramis had thus far sought in vain? If this was truly Sobrania, and not one of its benighted subkingdoms, she might be able to escape with the help of her Black Trillium and throw herself upon the mercy of Emperor Denombo. He made alliances with no nation, but he was fiercely chivalrous and would surely give her sanctuary until Haramis or some other rescuer arrived …
“In here,” Naelore said, gesturing to an open door. Within was a small hall, a kind of withdrawing room with only narrow slits for windows. Silver oil-lamps hanging along the walls gave additional illumination. Still, it took some minutes before Anigel was able to determine who the other occupants of the chamber were.
Nine chairs were ranged about a large round table in the center of the room. Orogastus sat in one seat and another beside him was empty, presumabl
y awaiting her. The other places were occupied by five men and two women, all shackled as Anigel was with gilded handcuffs. Behind each prisoner stood a man of the Star Guild armed with one of the peculiar weapons of the Vanished Ones.
“Welcome, Queen of Laboruwenda,” said Orogastus, inclining his head in an urbane gesture of respect. “You know everyone else at the table, I think.”
And so she did. Appalled at the recognition, Anigel let her eyes rove over her fellow-captives, who wore expressions ranging from sullen anger to debonair unconcern.
At the right hand of the sorcerer sat an insouciant elderly couple dressed in old-fashioned court finery: the Eternal Prince Widd and the Eternal Princess Raviya of the Isles of Engi. The three soberly attired men across the table were President Hakit Botal of Okamis, and the Duumviri Prigo and Ga-Bondies, who jointly governed the Imlit Republic. The crimson-gowned matronly woman with the wry smile was Queen Jiri of Galanar. Between her and the chair intended for Anigel, slouched down in his seat and glowering like a caged gradolik, sat Ledavardis of Raktum, a man twenty years of age, whose malformed stocky body and unattractive countenance had earned him the nickname of the Goblin Kinglet.
Anigel had last seen him three months earlier, when he had come to Ruwenda Citadel to ask for the hand of her daughter Janeel in marriage. The splendidly garbed young monarch who had come as a suitor to Ruwenda Citadel was hardly to be recognized now. The raiment of King Ledavardis was torn and filthy, as though his capture had not been easily accomplished. A stained bandage covered his left eye, while the right one was bloodshot and the skin around it bruised. The chains of his handcuffs were twice as thick as those of the others.
“Oh, my poor friends,” Anigel murmured. “What a sad meeting!”
“Sorry to see they nabbed you, too, sweeting,” the Eternal Princess Raviya piped. “Fine kettle of fish, isn’t it?”
The Eternal Prince Widd grinned with perfect good humor. “Seven days ago we were playing knockers on the esplanade green with our great-grandchildren, when a couple of starry blokes popped out of nowhere at the blue wicket and hauled us away. The scoundrels warned the young folks that we’d be killed if anything was said about the kidnapping.”