The Crown of Silence

by Storm Constantine

  ‘I’m glad we didn’t,’ Taropat said. ‘Forewarning would not have helped us.’

  Tayven wrapped his arms around his raised knees. ‘I can remember that terrible night quite well, and yet it does not seem as if it happened to me. I was out of my body somewhere, removed from the experience.’

  ‘How much has it affected you?’ Taropat asked.

  Tayven shrugged. ‘A lot, I suppose.’

  Taropat stuffed tobacco into his pipe. ‘It affected me greatly too. Since then, I have been isolated in an emotional sense. No one has come near. Has it been much the same for you?’

  Tayven looked away. ‘No, not in that sense.’

  ‘You must be resilient.’

  ‘I told you – I don’t feel it happened to me. Also, I refuse to let Bayard affect me that strongly. One day, I will kill him, my hate is that deep, but I’ll continue to live my life as normal.’

  ‘Do you have anyone now?’

  ‘I did. It was Ashalan.’

  Taropat laughed. ‘Always the best, the highest.’

  ‘Coincidence. He’s gone to the Magravandians. We’ve said our goodbyes.’

  ‘I pity him.’

  ‘There’s no need. We weren’t that close. It was just convenience.’

  Taropat said nothing, but Tayven imagined he was thinking, as with most of your relationships. ‘It wasn’t that way with us,’ Tayven said.

  ‘I know,’ Taropat said, as if to soothe him. ‘Look, it’s getting late. You can have Shan’s bed. It might be a little damp, but I can prepare you a hot stone.’

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ said Tayven, aware of the steel in his voice.

  ‘You are too impetuous,’ Taropat said. ‘That’s another change in you. You cannot expect us to carry on from where we left off. We are strangers now.’

  ‘And will we always be so?’

  Taropat hesitated. ‘I can’t answer that,’ he said. ‘I think it’s inappropriate even to think about it yet.’

  Tayven awoke late, to the sound of women’s voices singing outside. He got out of bed and went to the ivy-shrouded window. Below, Taropat was stripped to the waist, chopping wood, his hair tied back at his neck. Tayven experienced a brief twitch of grief. He felt he’d let Khaster go somehow, as if he’d finished their relationship voluntarily and it had been a terrible mistake. He had put the mark of death on their friendship the moment they’d set foot in Cos.

  Taropat put down his axe and straightened to greet two females who were walking into the glade: a red-haired woman and a boyish girl. Forest witches?

  Tayven dressed himself and went downstairs. By this time, Taropat had installed his guests at the kitchen table and was serving them breakfast. The aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly cooked bread made Tayven ravenous.

  ‘Since when did you become such a good cook?’ he asked lightly as he entered the room.

  ‘A hobby of my predecessor,’ Taropat replied. ‘And I’ve had the time to do it.’

  ‘And I’ve heard he does it splendidly,’ said the red-haired woman. ‘You must be Tayven Hirantel.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is Sinaclara,’ Taropat said. He indicated the girl. ‘And this is Nip. Perhaps Shan told you about them.’

  ‘He did.’ Tayven gave Sinaclara a significant glance, but she did not react.

  ‘News travels fast in the forest,’ she said. ‘I wanted to meet you.’

  ‘How’s Shan?’ Nip asked.

  ‘He’s fine,’ Tayven answered. ‘Quite the gentleman of the court. From what he told me of himself, I imagine he’s changed a lot since he left here.’

  ‘He was given a firm foundation,’ Sinaclara said.

  Given Sinaclara’s history with Taropat, which Shan had told him about, it was obvious to Tayven that the Lady was there for rather more than social reasons. Nip had only tagged along because she wanted to hear about Shan. Taropat was polite yet guarded, clearly waiting, and on the alert, for Sinaclara’s true business to be revealed. After they had finished eating, during which the conversation was spikily tense, Sinaclara lost no time in coming to the point. ‘Taropat, we have not been the closest of friends, but I’m certain you feel, as I do, that now is the time to put petty arguments behind us. We should close ranks, because the breath of the Malagashes is upon our necks.’

  Taropat glanced at Tayven. ‘That is perhaps an over-estimation, but events do seem to be moving in a certain direction, yes.’

  ‘What are your intentions, Taropat?’ Sinaclara asked. ‘Tayven is here for a reason, of course, and Shan will have sent him.’

  Tayven fully expected Taropat to evade the answer, but he spoke openly. ‘We are going to Recolletine in Magravandias.’

  ‘Good,’ said Sinaclara. ‘I’m glad events are moving along. You will seek the crown there, naturally.’

  ‘We shall endeavour to complete the Seven Lakes quest and see what happens,’ Taropat said. ‘As to whether mythical artefacts are involved or not, we’ll have to see.’

  ‘It is not a myth, Taropat,’ said Sinaclara firmly. ‘The crown is real and will be bestowed upon the right person.’

  ‘The king,’ said Taropat. ‘And who is king?’

  For the first time, Sinaclara hesitated. ‘There will be one,’ she said.

  ‘I’ve a feeling you already know who it is,’ Tayven said, looking her directly in the eye. ‘Or at least have your own hopes on the matter.’

  Sinaclara shrugged. ‘It is not important, as yet. Tell me what has happened in Cos. I have heard rumours, picked up images.’

  Tayven related what he knew.

  ‘This is wonderful news,’ Sinaclara said.

  ‘Really?’ Tayven said. ‘Most people think otherwise.’

  ‘But it shows the Dragon Lord is becoming what he should be,’ she said. ‘The events in Caradore worked.’

  ‘What events?’ Taropat asked sharply.

  ‘Your brother knows,’ Sinaclara said, ‘but has obviously been bound to silence. That is for the best.’

  ‘What events?’ Taropat repeated.

  ‘Valraven went back to Old Caradore,’ Sinaclara said. ‘He woke the dragon queen. In some part, his heritage has been restored to him.’

  ‘That is impossible,’ Taropat said.

  ‘It happened,’ Sinaclara said. ‘The empress Tatrini instigated it. She has her own plans for the future.’

  ‘I haven’t heard of this. How long have you known.’

  ‘A short while,’ she said.

  ‘What are the implications?’

  ‘It is perhaps the first move in a great change. Caradore is precious to the empire and has been kept in chains too long. A few of those chains have been loosened. Valraven waits, as do we all, for the time to act.’

  ‘This is not good news,’ Taropat said. ‘He will not want what any of us wants. I’d prefer to have him merely as a component of Leonid’s military. It will not help us if Palindrake acts independently. He is a slur upon his family’s heritage.’

  ‘He is married to Leonid’s daughter,’ Sinaclara said. ‘Perhaps this helps you work out the connections.’

  ‘Does he know of the Crown? If he does, he’ll want it.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Sinaclara said.

  ‘Then we must act quickly,’ Tayven said. He felt as if Sinaclara had kicked him in the face. The information she’d revealed suddenly made sense of many things, not least his own feelings since meeting the Dragon Lord in Cos. Palindrake had changed, then.

  ‘Didn’t you know any of this?’ Taropat asked Tayven.

  ‘I heard in Akahana that he married Princess Varencienne a few years ago,’ Tayven answered as lightly as he could. ‘It was a political marriage, I believe. At the time, it seemed of little consequence.’

  ‘It is of consequence,’ Sinaclara said. ‘I have no doubt the empress arranged it.’

  Taropat shook his head, smiling grimly. ‘So, he married again. I wo
nder what his lovely sister thinks of that. The princess must be a feisty creature to survive the wedding.’

  ‘Quite,’ said Sinaclara. ‘As she’s her mother’s daughter, I imagine she has her own agenda too.’ She leaned forward over the table. ‘You must secure the Crown as soon as you can. When you have it, bring it to me.’

  ‘Why?’ Taropat asked.

  ‘Because, one day, I shall crown the true king,’ she answered simply. ‘It is my destiny.’

  There was a moment’s silence.

  ‘Anyway,’ Sinaclara continued, ‘it must be safely hidden and where better than here in Breeland? I will be its custodian until the correct time. The forest itself will hide and protect it.’

  ‘That makes sense,’ Taropat said, a remark which surprised Tayven.

  ‘I am relieved you agree,’ Sinaclara said. ‘Now, I wish to speak to you concerning a private matter.’ She glanced at Tayven and Nip. ‘Would you excuse us?’

  Outside, Tayven asked the girl: ‘What’s all that about?’

  She merely rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t ask. They’ll probably never tell us. It’s just their way.’ She paused, then said, ‘I miss Shan. Don’t suppose I’ll ever see him again.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ Tayven said. ‘I never thought I’d seec Taropat again either.’

  Nip gazed at him shrewdly. ‘Shan told me about you.’

  He grimaced. ‘A common feature of my life.’

  ‘You look a bit like him.’

  ‘I’ve been told.’

  ‘Fancy a walk?’

  ‘Might as well.’ They went together into the forest. Shan had lived here, in close proximity to Taropat every day. Tayven felt a barb in his heart. Jealousy.

  Sinaclara and Taropat conversed for several hours, and it was late afternoon by the time, the Lady emerged from the house and summoned Nip to accompany her home. Tayven went inside and found Taropat sitting at the table. He appeared to be deep in thought. ‘What did you and the Lady talk about?’ Tayven asked.

  ‘She had advice about our quest, that’s all,’ Taropat replied. ‘She likes to interfere.’

  ‘Do you trust her? Shan told me of your difficulties with her.’

  ‘Whatever my personal feelings, she is part of the web,’ Taropat said. ‘And therefore part of all that we do. Before we leave, I must also speak to Thremius. What I have heard today worries me.’

  ‘If we have the crown, be it knowledge, power or physical artefact, we will have the upper hand,’ Tayven said.

  ‘Mmm,’ murmured Taropat. ‘I am concerned about Palindrake, though. The thought of having to compete with him for the artefact is not a happy one. I don’t want a confrontation.’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Tayven said airily. ‘Palindrake is ultimately nothing, a lackey to the empire. Tatrini is playing with him, trying to woo him away from Gastern. If he falls for that, he’s more stupid than I thought.’ He did not believe a word of what he’d said.

  ‘Even the strongest of men can be rendered witless and stupid when a particularly luscious carrot is dangled before them,’ Taropat said grimly, ‘namely the carrot of power, or the promise of it.’

  ‘Perhaps, although despite my feelings towards Palindrake, I always thought him above such shenanigans.’

  ‘Don’t try to find anything good in that man,’ Taropat said sharply. ‘Remember, he could have saved you in Cos. He is a monster, Bayard’s creature.’

  Tayven sighed. ‘Who can tell what really takes place in a human mind or heart? We shouldn’t even bother trying to guess, but just get on with what we have to do.’

  Taropat became very still for a moment, then he spoke. ‘We are doing the right thing. I can feel it. We can make a difference.’

  ‘After all this time, we’ve reached a place,’ Tayven said, ‘a strange and wondrous place. It began in The Soak of Magrast, the lowest of places, the primordial slime. We have evolved out of it.’

  ‘But we must guard against arrogance, against pride.’

  ‘Such things, in moderation, can be strengths. They give courage and spirit.’

  ‘They can be weaknesses too. Remember, it was you who told me to dance on both sides of the coin.’

  Merlan was walking by the Temple of Purryah in the early evening, and was compelled to enter the outer shrine. The wind had changed direction, and blew warm and scented from the sea. It was bringing something to Akahana, something important. Merlan’s heart was filled with a strange melancholy; the sunset itself moved him to tears. Images, thoughts and emotions from the past pressed down upon him, making him face things he’d buried deep. He had to escape the heaviness in the air and the temple promised a tranquil sanctuary.

  There were no priestesses in the shrine, so Merlan knelt before the cult statue of the goddess, his mind too full of thoughts to form a coherent petition. He knew that his brother had arrived in Akahana. Had he and Tayven resumed their relationship? He dreaded meeting Khaster, or Taropat as he was now called, yet at the same time he yearned for it. Maycarpe had trained him well, and he knew, as well as Tayven did, how to survive in the supple, duplicitous web of cabals that was a network around the world. Yet he had knowledge that not even Tayven had. Maycarpe would never let Tayven know he wanted Valraven Palindrake to be king of Magravandias. Shan would balk against such a suggestion and as for Khasterc Taropat, his reaction was not difficult to guess. And there was more: knowledge that Merlan had believed he’d take to his grave, for only one person should know it, a person he’d believed to be dead. Palindrake had confessed it to Merlan, perhaps to absolve himself, perhaps to justify himself, but whatever the reason he’d made it clear he wanted no one but Merlan to know it – ever. Merlan had sworn an oath. If he revealed this knowledge, wouldn’t it change the way Tayven and Taropat felt about the Dragon Lord? Wouldn’t it sway them towards Maycarpe’s designs? If it had been anyone else but Palindrake, Merlan would have revealed what he knew, but he was afraid of the Dragon Lord, sure in his heart that the moment he spoke Valraven would know.

  He cast a few grains of incense into a bowl of smouldering charcoals at the feet of the goddess. ‘Purryah, let your daughter Merytet stand beside me. Guide my tongue, guide my heart.’ He clasped his hands together and pressed them against his forehead. A rushing sound started up in his ears that resolved itself into the music of many cats purring. His whole body ached with knowledge. He felt he should write to his mother and sisters to tell them Khaster lived, yet if he did that they would want to see him, and Merlan sensed that was not possible. Was it better to let them continue to believe he was dead? When he saw Khaster, he wanted to tell him about Pharinet, how she had suffered, how she had been used by the Malagashes. Yet would Pharinet want Khaster to know that? He wanted to tell Khaster about Varencienne, how her marriage to Valraven was loveless, that she was obsessed by a man she believed to be dead, how Khaster had been her guiding spirit through all that had transpired in Caradore following her wedding. Varencienne, of all of them, would want to know Khaster lived. In Merlan’s opinion, she was the only Malagash fit to wield power in the future. The urge to contact her was overwhelmingly great, not just to be a bearer of news she wanted to hear, but to have an excuse to maintain contact. Merlan had not seen her since the empress Tatrini had persuaded them to go to Old Caradore and reawaken the dragon queen. He’d not dared to return home, even though his mother’s plaintive letters tore at his heart.

  ‘Purryah, you told me my brother would return,’ Merlan murmured, his body rocking upon his heels. ‘You spoke truly to me. Speak to me now, for I need your guidance.’

  But for the hum in his ears, the temple was silent. No priestess melted out of the shadows to whisper wisdom to him. Yet, despite this, Merlan did not feel he was alone. An idea came to him, and he was unsure of the motivation behind it. He must not let Khaster go to Magravandias without him. Maycarpe might have his perfect trinity, but Merlan felt there was some unseen factor the governor hadn’t thought of. M
erlan might not have an archetypal role in what was to come, but he had a purpose. He would insist on his place.

  ‘Thank you,’ he murmured and got to his feet. On the way from the temple, he made a generous donation to the priest by the door. The old man offered no thanks. His face remained expressionless.

  By the time Merlan reached the governmental building, he already knew what he’d find there. Sure enough, a group of people was waiting for him in Maycarpe’s sitting room. ‘We wondered where you’d got to,’ Maycarpe said, but Merlan did not respond. He was staring at the man sitting across the room, a man who now got to his feet.

  ‘I knew you’d be here,’ Merlan said, with difficulty. ‘I have visited the temple of Purryah. She’s become something of a goddess of mine.’

  ‘Merlan,’ said the man, a single word full of feeling.

  ‘Khas.’ Merlan crossed the room and embraced his brother. ‘I dared not believe it, yet I knew it to be true.’

  ‘You must realise that in many respects your brother is dead. I am Taropat, Merlan. That is the name you must call me by.’

  Merlan drew away. ‘Say what you like. I know what my eyes behold, what my heart feels.’

  Taropat smiled. ‘As you will. You look well, brother. You have fulfilled the potential that smouldered in Magrast.’

  ‘I’m not sure about that,’ Merlan said. ‘But I enjoy living here. I have learned much.’

  ‘So it would seem.’ Taropat sat down and gestured for Merlan to sit beside him. It was only then that Merlan became fully aware that Tayven and Shan were also present. Tayven’s face was hard, yet Shan had clearly been moved by the Leckery reunion. Even Maycarpe was smiling benignly.

  ‘So the cat goddess spoke to you again,’ Maycarpe said.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Merlan answered. ‘I just sensed that Khas was here.’ He turned to his brother. ‘Sorry. Calling you by a different name will take some getting used to.’

  Taropat shrugged. ‘Remember in public, that’s all.’