by Martin Ash
Two immediate fears occupied her thoughts: that Skalatin might stumble onto the Path and thus see her, and that he would discover her tracks. She could do little about the former, other than hope. As for the latter, the ground was hard here, the wind shifting any dust that lay there, and again, she did not have the impression that Skalatin utilised particular tracking skills. Somehow he had followed her and found her, as if by some unnatural sense, but when it came to pinpointing her precise location he seemed to rely on little more than common human senses.
The ground inclined a little more steeply. Her view of Skalatin was blocked by massive boulders. She watched the snake talisman carefully. Through a gap between the rocks she looked down again. Skalatin was still on the rock. Meglan reached the lip of the slope.
Now she could see Jans. He sat where she had left him, a solitary figure on his horse in a menacing wilderness. A little way off the vultures still fed.
Stay there, Jans! Don’t stray! I’ll lead him away and come back for you.
Her eyes swept the plain below, then back. With a sudden shock she realised that Skalatin had gone from his rock. He was no longer in sight. Where had he gone? Had he spotted her? Was he moving up unseen in her wake?
She gazed about her, back down the way she had come, back across the wasteland. Finally she saw him, and realised she had made a terrible miscalculation.
Skalatin had moved back to the place where she had originally fled from him. Slinking past the feasting vultures, he moved up beside the Serpentine Path, searching. Jans had seen him. He was motionless on his horse, watching him.
Meglan wanted to scream. She saw, hopelessly, what was about to occur. She would have urged Swift Cloud forward, raced down to intervene, but it was already too late. Skalatin, with a stealthy, quizzical gait, padded on. He was so close to Jans. He had to have stepped onto the Path!
Yes! Meglan sobbed out loud. Jans drew his sabre at the precise moment that Skalatin spun, with shocking speed, and sprang. Jans had no time to strike. The creature was on him, leaping high to grapple him from the saddle. The tussle was brief and savage. Jans was thrown like a doll to the earth. He tried to lift his head but Skalatin was on him again.
Meglan gaped in mute horror. From this distance she could not see exactly what happened, but she did not need to. She saw the dreadful motions, saw the blood blossom from Jans’s chest as Skalatin plunged his hands into the writhing body, forced the ribcage aside and drew something out, bowing his head to gnaw rapaciously on his prize.
Oh, Jans! Oh, Jans! Forgive me! Forgive me!
She was transfixed, incapable of tearing her eyes from the ghastly scene. Tears poured down her cheeks as she berated herself again and again. Then a red heat rose, an overpowering hatred for the monster that sat on its haunches below, licking the blood from its fingers. All she could think of was to dig her heels into Swift Cloud’s flanks and launch herself upon her tormentor.
There’s nothing you can do! Leave now or you will die!
She fought back her fury. To attack Skalatin would gain her nothing. It would simply play into his hands. Jans was gone and she could not bring him back. That was the single, bare, brutal fact of it. Now she had to think solely of self-preservation.
With this thought came the recognition that, should Skalatin turn now and look her way, she was in full view of him. Her vision was blurred with tears but she turned Swift Cloud around and took herself over the crest of the slope, out of Skalatin’s view.
As she descended the other side she reassured herself through her grief and anger. Skalatin did not know the Serpentine Path. He would wander off it, there was little doubt, and probably almost immediately. She would be invisible again.
And safe?
He would continue to pursue her, she knew, so she was far from safe. But for the present she was hidden.
She forced herself to look at the snake talisman, fighting off a wild urge to tear it off and throw it away into the wasteland, to give up everything and turn around and go back and give herself to the fiend. She fought the agony of remorse and self-blame. She rode on, weeping.
What now?
Sildemund.
Her goal had not changed. She had to find her brother and the red stone.
The barrenness of the Despair stretched all around her, desolate as the heart that she pursued. Swift Cloud carried her slowly on. Somewhere, Dharsoul. She glanced back from time to time, fearful and alone.
XVI
‘But you’re a hero of the Realm, Gully! You saved Prince Enlos’s life! Surely that counts for something?’
For the fifth or sixth time that evening, Sildemund voiced the same, strained protest, a plea for Gully to somehow assert himself and gain their unconditional release. And for the fifth or sixth time, Gully responded with the same weary, resigned reply. ‘Not in the light of what we have witnessed here this evening, it doesn’t.’
They were still in the luxurious guests’ apartment provided for them the previous day by Prince Enlos. The cruel irony of their position was not lost on Sildemund: held in comfort and splendour, until execution.
Outside, the night was warm and velvet blue-black. Through the windows the lights of the city could be seen. The river was a phosphorescent haze, here and there reflecting the lights. The sounds of distant revelries drifted up from the tavernas around the souk and entertainment district. Dharsoul, as evening descended, had come alive.
Sildemund paced the room, then halted. ‘How will they do it, Gully?’
Gully, seated, passed a hand across his jaw. He glanced up, wondering how to soften the blow, then accepted that there was little point. ‘It will be without ceremony. Knives or swords, in secret, our bodies swiftly disposed of. It will be as if we had never existed.’
‘You must do something! You have to try! We can’t even fight to defend ourselves!’
Earlier, soon after they had been returned here from the Hall of Receiving, a squad of masked guards had entered and taken their weapons and many of their personal belongings.
‘I’ll appeal to Enlos if the chance arises, of course I will,’ Gully said. ‘But it won’t do any good. He’s powerless in this situation. Even he can’t defy the law when there’s such a price to be paid. It’s us or the Queen, his mother, remember. That’s the fact of it.’
‘There must be some way!’ Sildemund resumed his agitated pacing, a knot of fear tightening his gut. Presently he halted again. ‘When will they do it?’
‘Tonight, Sil. Almost certainly.’
Sildemund groaned. ‘Just because we heard her speak? Is it really so important?’
‘You know it is.’
‘But when Queen Lermeone’s father was sovereign he spoke with little restriction. He gave speeches, addressed his people, conferred in person with whoever he chose. I know it. My parents used to tell me about King Hirun. The Supreme Haruspices played a lesser role at that time. They were advisors, gave counsel. They were not the sole interpreters of his thoughts or wishes. That’s so, isn’t it? Why is it different for the Queen?’
Gully shrugged. ‘Because she is Queen, a woman. The Old Texts declare that a woman cannot know her own mind, and neither can she wholly trust her own words. Sovereign, scullery maid or whore, it’s the same. Our Queen’s intentions must be divined by infallible means.’
‘Infallible? You believe that? It’s absurd!’
‘It’s the Law.’
‘She doesn’t rule, Gully. That’s the truth of it. She has no true power. How can she be considered sovereign?’
Gully fidgeted uncomfortably. ‘It’s irrelevant. The Law decrees that in the absence of a male heir the eldest daughter of a sovereign is eligible to accede. Conditions apply by rote. It’s not for us to argue. It’s above us. And it serves no end to protest the matter now.’
Sildemund strode to the window, scanning for a way out. But they were several levels above the ground, and in the courtyard below sentries had bloomed like nocturnal flowers. His thoughts had been ant
icipated.
Picadus, who had woken soon after their return and hauled himself from his bed, sat scowling on a divan. ‘Why me?’ he growled. ‘I had nothing to do with it. I wasn’t there. Why should I die with you?’
Sildemund turned on him angrily, but realised that what Picadus said was true. He had not been present, had not heard Queen Lermeone speak. He was condemned by association, having heard the two of them talking about what had happened.
‘You fools! You shouldn’t have told me!’ Picadus slammed his fists down hard on his thighs. You should have let me get out of here before you said anything!’ He thrust himself to his feet, his features darkening. ‘I don’t want to die!’
Gully likewise rose. ‘Steady, Pic. It does no good. We’re in this together, whether we like it or not. We can’t change it.’
Picadus glowered, tense and twitching. There was a sudden noise at the door. All three turned as the door was thrown open. Four masked guards entered and fanned out to either side.
The three stared, no words to say, fearing the worst. In the flame-lit corridor outside a shadow loomed, grew, diminished. Into the chamber strode the flamboyant Khimmurian, Ronbas Dinbig.
He was garbed as before, in purple and blue, but minus his hat, revealing a full head of pale brown wavy hair, elegantly coiffed, long at the sides and trimmed in a neat fringe across the forehead. He halted and performed a short, polite bow before the three men, then turned to the guards. ‘Would you be so good as to wait outside?’
The guards filed out and drew the door shut behind them.
Sildemund, finding his voice, said, ‘You exercise a surprising authority, sir, for one who is not here of his own free will.’
‘They are soldiers,’ replied Dinbig, as if that explained all.
‘And you’re in their custody – at least, that was my understanding.’
‘Unhappily, that’s so. Nevertheless, I gained Prince Enlos’s permission to speak with you privately. It’s he they obey, not me. Now, we should talk of essential matters. There’s much to be discussed, and my time is limited.’
‘As is ours,’ said Gully, without humour.
‘Quite so. You’re haggard, and at each other’s throats, I see. If I may point out the obvious, it’s not a fruitful way to spend one’s final hours.’
Sildemund was lost for a response. Picadus’s shoulders heaved, his breath seething. Gully said, heatedly, ‘And how would you suggest we spend them?’
‘In calm and reasoned thought. Surely you see there is nothing to be gained by squabbling amongst yourselves?’
‘Reasoned thought?’ Gully’s voice shook. ‘Sir, do you mock us?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Are you aware of the full implications of what has happened here tonight?’
‘I am.’
‘Yet you expect us to engage in calm and reasoned thought?’
‘It’s surely preferable to bitter rumpus? Who knows, cool reason might yet suggest a way out of this predicament?’
Gully was firm. ‘There can be no way out.’
Dinbig put a hand to his chin, observing the three of them. ‘Hmm. Plainly, cool reason doesn’t come naturally to you. It hadn’t struck me until now, but seeing the three of you, and particularly this bruised and battered fellow,’ he nodded towards Picadus, ‘I’m drawn to wonder. Are you by any chance the hooligans who set about my men in a tavern earlier in the day?’
Sildemund’s jaw fell open. ‘Your men? The foreigners?’
‘Quietly relaxing, by their account – which familiarity leads me to believe. Peacefully enjoying some moments of free time when they were set upon by a Darch madman and his two thuggish companions.’
‘With respect, sir,’ said Gully, ‘the brawl was unintentional on our part. Pic, here, got a touch over-excited. Blows were exchanged, but we calmed the situation and left as quickly as we were able.’
‘And paid for all damage’, added Sildemund.
‘Yes, that accords with my men’s account.’
‘I apologize unreservedly,’ Sildemund said.
Dinbig grinned. ‘Unnecessary. My fellows enjoyed the sport.’
Sildemund scratched his head in perplexity at his manner. ‘Master Dinbig, are you aware of the full circumstances of what happened here this evening?’
‘I believe I am, yes.’
‘Then you know we are condemned without trial or appeal, simply for having heard the Queen speak.’
‘That’s the fact, as related to me by the crown prince, yes. He is greatly saddened by it, but can’t see any way around it. If word leaks out that the Queen has spoken in public, it would be her who would face execution. Enlos would of course gain the throne, but he has no desire to do so under such circumstances. And the scandal, the political embarrassment, would have far-reaching effects for Darch. The incident, therefore, has to be erased. It can never have occurred.’
‘But now you know of it,’ Sildemund said. ‘So can you be allowed to leave with that knowledge intact?’
‘I’m fully conversant and with the law and its immutability. And your point is a fair one. But let’s leave that aside for a moment. I’ve come here to speak of more important things.’
‘More important things?’ blurted out Gully, hard put to contain himself. ‘What can we possibly be expected to deem more important than our own lives?’
Dinbig fixed him with a level gaze. ‘You’ve no wish to die, and that’s to be expected. But believe me, your lives and mine are of no consequence in the light of the issue we are obliged to confront. That Queen Lermeone spoke is of scant relevance now. It’s what she spoke of that’s paramount. I’m referring to the red stone that you showed me earlier this evening.’
‘That stone!’ Sildemund exclaimed. ‘It’s brought nothing but misfortune!’
‘Precisely. And believe me, the misfortune has scarcely begun.’
‘She called it the Heart of Shadows.’
‘The Heart of Shadows…’ Dinbig pursed his lips. ‘Would that it were not.’
‘What have you found out about it?’
‘Not as much as I need, but more than I want. It’s a baleful artefact of immense antiquity, and is apparently referred to in Darch’s Old Texts. It was believed to have been little more than fabrication of myth or lore, never to have actually existed, or if it had, to have been lost or destroyed before history ever dawned. Queen Lermeone knows more, I’m convinced. She has received unique schooling in the understanding of the Old Texts. Her knowledge is being elicited from her at the present time. That she was the only person capable of recognizing the stone for what it is suggests much. I’ve learned one or two other facts about it, and have concluded beyond doubt that what you’ve brought here is cause for profound concern.’
‘How have you learned these things?’ asked Gully. ‘Earlier, you could tell us almost nothing about that cursed stone.’
‘I am Zan-Chassin. Now, I have questions to put to you, particularly with regard to how you came upon this stone.’ He looked directly at Sildemund, who averted his gaze. ‘Your father bought it from a trader in Thonce, you said. Forgive me, but in the light of what we now know I find this unlikely.’
Sildemund wrestled with himself in uncomfortable silence. Gully turned away and with a grim visage seated himself on the divan. Presently he said, ‘Tell him, lad.’
‘We found the stone,’ said Sildemund.
‘Found it? Where?’
‘In the wilderness. It was a legitimate find. The stone was buried, hidden. It was sheer chance that we stumbled on it. It was in a sealed cave that hadn’t been entered in decades, I would say, possibly even centuries.’
Dinbig tilted his chin, absorbing this. Sildemund looked to Gully for support. Gully nodded. ‘It’s as he says. No one had been there. We were digging out a rabbit that had gone to ground. We found the cave by accident.’
‘And the red stone was in there? Simply lying on the cave floor?’
‘It was concealed,’ said Gull
y. ‘Hidden behind a false wall. Again, it was chance more than anything that led us to it. We’d searched the cave, hoping for treasure, but found nothing. We were about to leave when I found the false wall.’
‘And the stone was behind it? Was it protected in any way?’
‘It was inside some kind of cage structure, sunk into the rock itself. It took some freeing.’
‘But you freed it, and then left?’
‘We camped overnight, and moved on the next morning.’ Sildemund looked troubled. ‘One of our number was killed.’
‘How?’
‘Edric had been acting strangely ever since we entered the cave,’ Gully said. ‘He seemed deeply afraid of something. Got quite hysterical. We put it down to the Estuary Fever he’d suffered from a while earlier. But in the morning, without telling anyone, he went back into the cave. Master Atturio found him in there, dead.’
‘Were there any particular or peculiar circumstances surrounding his death – beyond what you’ve already told me?’
Sildemund heaved a sigh. ‘My father told me it looked as though he had fallen onto a sharp rock. It had pierced his chest. None of us actually saw the body.’
Dinbig nodded thoughtfully. ‘Tell me, how did you come to be in this place?’
For a moment neither spoke. Gully expelled a big breath. Dinbig gave a wry smile. ‘Come, now. I’m a merchant too. In fact, I’m acquainted with Master Atturio. I’m fully conversant with the means and methods by which our trade is plied. You were carrying contraband, is that not so? And the border posts were being checked, rigorously. I know that, as I was picked up there myself and brought back here.’
‘You were arrested for carrying contraband?’ said Sildemund. ‘Normally a fine is imposed. There’s an agreement…’