Orbelon's World (Book 3) (19 page)

   Anzejarl stopped. In truth, what point in wondering? Olmana had him in her palm. He could never resist her, and he could know only what she chose to reveal.

   He sat up suddenly and reached for the
ghinz
. Olmana watched him and her fingers traced a slow, sensual pattern over is back. 'The greatest prize, my Prince,' she whispered again. 'It lies just before you.'

   Anzejarl felt a burning anger rise. He
stood, a fire in his eyes. 'Aye.'

  
'Just an arm's reach away. And the Child will be there.'

   'Do you know this?'

   'I know that in whatever land the Child resides, its presence will be known. So go now, Anzejarl. Take Enchantment's Reach for me, for you. Slay Leth and all his kin.' 

   Anzejarl nodded fiercely as the wind and rain buffeted his tent. At a word from her he knew the passion again, the insuperable lust for battle, for the lives of those who opposed him; the warrior's charged, irrepressible impulse toward victory and glory. 'Aye, I am here now, Leth. I am upon you. For the glory of
Karai, you are mine at last. I will obliterate you and all who follow you.'

  
And then? he thought to himself.

  
And then. . . ?

II

   Prior to and immediately following Queen Issul's departure from Enchantment's Reach, Lord Fectur applied intense concentration to the manner in which he would proceed once she was gone. His fury at having been so simply and almost
effortlessly fooled by Issul, particularly before so many important personages in the Emergency Assembly, had impelled him to immediate and vengeful action. With the Assembly dissolved he had quickly descended to the warren of grim passages, cells and lightless chambers that comprised the dungeons of the Ministry of Realm Security, and there exacted terrible punishment upon a trio of prisoners hauled randomly before him. Even then, with their corpses spread in bloody ruin at his feet, he found himself barely relieved.

   His dudgeon was only moderately tempered by the knowledge that, even with Issul gone, he must now act with a certain degree of prudence. Not that he was not by nature a prudent man. He was. That is, he planned meticulously, was methodical in application, allowed for every conceivable contingency, and made sure at all times that his tracks were covered. He was never given to impulse or caprice. But the situation now was prickly and volatile in ways it had not previously been. He had been caught unawares; things were escalating at such a breakneck pace.

   Too many uncertainties; too many unknowns. The situation had no precedent. Fectur told himself again that this was a time for cool deliberation and careful, considered decision-making, yet his rage festered. He thought back, recalling that it was he who had taught Issul so much of what she knew. That she should use it now against him! Her ingratitude was amazing. Under different circumstances he would have been proud of her.

   Not least on Fectur's mind was the spine-stiffening shock of discovering himself so ill-informed in so many areas. Something of incalculable importance was afoot, and he had somehow been kept almost entirely in the dark. How was this possible?
And how now to take best advantage of her absence? She would no doubt have made careful plans herself.

   He sat and brooded, and carefully took stock.

   Firstly he considered Issul's journey. Where might she be going and what knowledge did she possess that could send her forth at a time like this? He could hardly doubt that it had something to do with her recent absence, but did she really believe she had an answer to the Karai threat?

   What of her announcement that one of the Highest Ones, the gods of Enchantment or whatever they were, had joined forces with the
Karai? Her words and attitude echoed King Leth's, when he had implied extraordinary knowledge of Enchantment. This chafed deeply, like grains of dust rubbed upon a lidless eye. How could she know such things, if Fectur himself had no such confirmation? True, his own intelligence-gathering sources had disclosed that the Karai had creatures of Enchantment in their ranks, and he had since come virtually to accept that the Karai must enjoy the patronage of one of those most powerful beings, a so-called god. But both Leth, and now Issul, had spoken with total conviction, as if with uncommon knowledge - knowledge which he, Fectur, was mortifyingly not party to.

   Could the young Queen be bluffing?

   Somehow, he felt not. For to bluff over an issue such as this. . . what end would it serve her? She would return to Enchantment's Reach if she could; Fectur knew her too well to question that. And if she did, she would have to bring with her the proof of her assertions. So, definitely, she knew something. Definitely she believed the words she had spoken in the Hall of Wise Counsel.

   And Leth! Here chafed another mystery. Fectur broiled at the memory. How could the King and his sickeningly delightful brats have vanished? Where could they be? And of equal importance, for how long could their absence be expected to remain a secret? The men of the Security Cadre who had discovered their disappearance and subsequently searched the King's apartments were well-apprised as to the consequences of loose talk, and Fectur knew that nothing would leak from that source, but even so . . . it could be only a matter of time before questions were asked.

   Fectur had read Issul with an expert eye, and was sure she knew nothing of Leth's whereabouts. At least, he was sure she had known nothing when she had returned to Enchantment's Reach two days ago. Since then her manner and demeanour had undergone a subtle change.

   What could she have learned?

   And how?

   That meddling magician Pader Luminis held at least one key, Fectur more than suspected. The Murinean conjuror had spent a lifetime worming his way into the royal family's favour, but this latest outrage..! It galled Fectur to admit it, but it had come as a complete surprise. He had never suspected Pader Luminis of harbouring political ambition.

   Fectur's mind sped back to the late afternoon of Issul's return. He had come upon the two of them, Queen and conjuror, in breathless exchange in Leth's private study. He had caught only a few hushed and hurried words:-

   The Queen: '. .
.
no one must know of this
.'

   Pader Luminis:
'I swore as much to Leth. He bade me warn you, or whomsoever I passed it on to: its existence must always remain a secret
.'  

   Issul had glanced around then, and caught sight of Fectur at the door. Fectur cursed silently now. Ordinarily, had he not wished, it his presence would never have been detected. But so distracted had he been, so thrown by events - Leth's disappearance, Issul's sudden, unexpected return and the removal of Grey Venger from his dungeon cell - that he had all but announced himself to them. In doing so he had forfeited privity of their secret.

   The Queen had been clutching something. Something precious bundled in her shawl. The way she held it to herself, her edginess, the shock on her face, had spoken volumes. And this something could only be linked to the journey she had now undertaken. He had not failed to note, as she rode away in the wet, early morn, the small wooden chest which she had personally affixed with such care to the saddle of her horse, then covered with a water-resistant shroud.

   Fectur drew back his lips in a grimace of bestial malevolence. He lived and grew mighty through information. The Spectre's eyes penetrated all corners, all nooks and niches. That there existed now a shadowed secret that he had not pierced was intolerable to him. To this end he had dispatched Commander Gordallith, one of his most highly regarded and senior security officers, in the Queen's wake. Gordallith had with him a small band of skilled men, highly trained, black-hearted members of The Spectre's security cadre. They were ruthless fighters, accomplished spies, deft, silent thieves and deadly assassins. And their first loyalty, like Gordallith's, was to the Spectre, not the King or Queen.

    Gordallith's orders were complex but specific, and covered a variety of contingencies. Broadly, he was to put himself or at least one of his agents in close proximity to the Queen or those in whom she confided. By such means he was to determine her destination and whether she genuinely held a secret that might save Enchantment's Reach. If, in his judgement, she did, Gordallith was to make it his absolute priority to find out what it was. The mysterious chest upon her saddle was, of course, to be investigated as a priority.

   Gordallith was then to apply himself to the question of whether the Queen was the only person capable of achieving her stated objective. That is to say, might some other person, armed with the relevant knowledge and equipment which Issul currently - and presumably solely - held, be as effective as she in this extraordinary and urgent business?

   Two possibilities might then present themselves. One: no person other than Queen Issul was capable of accomplishing what she had set out to accomplish. Or two: Queen Issul was one among any number of persons who could do it.

   If the former was the case, Gordallith was to use his judgement to determine the most favourable path. He could abduct the Queen - a task fraught with obstacles but, with such skilled assistants, conceivable nonetheless - and then proceed with her to her objective; or he could allow her to achieve her objective without interference, and then abduct her as she returned to Enchantment's Reach.

   But if the latter was the case, he should by any means at his disposal relieve her of any vital knowledge and/or apparatus she possessed, and proceed without her. In any instance Gordallith was made to clearly understand that Queen Issul's safe return to Enchantment's Reach was not essential, nor was it even desirable.

   Additional instructions concerned the young soldier, Shenwolf, who was so clearly in Issul's favour. Fectur was bemused by his so rapid rise from raw recruit to personal bodyguard of the Queen. If, through unforeseeable or unavoidable circumstance, Queen Issul did return to Enchantment's Reach alive, Fectur would be pleased to have confirmation that she and Shenwolf were lovers.

   Should Gordallith uncover no evidence of that, well, the suggestion, properly deployed, could be almost as damaging. But this, Fectur had quietly emphasized, was not the result he most hoped to see. Conceivably, he had suggested, almost as if to himself, Shenwolf himself might perish. Even better, he might perish after having been witnessed to have, for some perhaps undetermined reason, taken the life of the beloved Queen.

   Hence Gordallith had departed with no doubt whatsoever in his mind of what was expected of him. And while his task was demanding, Gordallith was a resourceful fellow. Fectur did not doubt that he would be effective, one way or the other.  

   In the meantime Fectur formulated strategies to cover the situation at home. Any attempt to seize power again was, of course, unworkable. That which had so recently, under unusual and quite specific circumstances, been conducive to his ends, could now only serve him ill. Pader Luminis could not be persuasively overthrown. Not now. His leadership could be called into question, however. He might, with tact and careful planning, be fully discredited. He was no soldier, after all, and it was a soldier's mind that would best serve Enchantment's Reach now.

   But such tactics would take time, and there was little of that with the
Karai so close.

  
The Karai. Truly, so much depended on the Queen. Even so, there were other avenues still to be explored.

   With this in mind Fectur rose from his desk and took leave of his office. Head inclined in brooding thought, he passed from the Ministry of Realm Security and strode through the Palace of Orbia to the guest apartments set off the royal wing. He approached the entrance to the chambers in which Issul had lodged Grey Venger, the leader of the True Sept. The sentries at the door snapped to attention.

   Just the two guards? Fectur was curious. 'Open the door. I want to speak with the prisoner.'

   The nearest sentry spoke with evident reluctance. 'My lord, we have precise instructions. I regret, most respectfully, we are forbidden to allow any person to enter without the express permission of the Queen or her designated Regent, the Imperator-Protector.'

   Fectur's head drew back, his eyes like bolts of ice. 'Do you know who I am?'

  
'My lord, of course. With great respect, our orders are exact. We were made to understand that they apply to all persons bar the Queen and Imperator. I am sorry, my lord.'

   Fectur fixed them with his most minatory glare. Elite or not, he could have disarmed and disabled the pair of them with almost no effort. He could have snapped both their necks before they had even moved. But he saw them starting to sweat, and that was enough. It would advance his aims not at all to commit violence upon Issul's appointed guards. He spun upon his heel and made off down the corridor.

III

   Pader Luminis had been appointed temporary administrative offices on the ground floor of the royal wing of the palace, just along the corridor from Issul's. Such an appointment, central and easily accessed and guarded, was far preferable to his remote and dusty chambers in the White Eaglet's tower, where he preferred to pass his time, or the libraries, sancta and laboratories of the Arcane College, where he was otherwise generally to be found. The offices consisted of two quite small chambers, previously used for the storage of old ledgers and files and, more latterly, general lumber. They had been hurriedly emptied, swept and spruced up, and desks, shelves and seating were installed.