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

II

   Issul paced her chamber, racked with indecision. Outside a light drizzle fell from uniform grey skies above Enchantment's Reach. The misty rain was chill, carried from the northeast with the changing season. The vast forest at the foot of the great scarp had been almost obscured, a murky ocean of denser tone merging into the low cloud. The mountains of Enchantment could not be seen.

    Barely thirty six hours had passed since Issul's return to Enchantment's Reach. She had come home to find herself obliged to don the mantle of supreme office in her husband's absence. She was twenty two, with scarcely any practical experience in the art of government. Taking the throne, she found herself beleaguered and antagonized, a reluctant sovereign in a time of crisis like none that had gone before in the history of Enchantment's Reach. From outside the city-castle's high walls enemies approached. Others circled within, like raptors waiting for her to drop, not all yet announcing themselves. And now she was faced with an impossible choice.

  
To go or to remain? On the face of it she had little option. Ironically, she had known, even as she was making her way back to Enchantment's Reach, that she would return to the secret Karai bunker beneath the forest floor, where the Farplace Opening - the wormhole to Enchantment - lay entombed. She had made the impossible journey, had been to Enchantment, and something of Enchantment was within her now. It called her back, a mystery that could not accept abandonment. But she had never imagined she would be returning there this soon, nor under circumstances as desperate as these.

*

  
'Orbelon. . . . Orbelon, speak to me.'

   She ceased her pacing and focused her gaze upon the blue casket which rested with other precious ornaments and items of finery upon an open shelf of an ornately carved oak chiffonier to one side of the room. Orbelon would not be far away. By his own account, prevented from re-entering his world, he could also not leave it. He, the world, and the casket were somehow one and the same - a concept which Issul was not fully able to grasp. 

   Issul had agonized over the problem of concealing the casket. With Pader Luminis, she had decided upon open display, where it would in fact draw the least attention. No one knew of the casket. Her apartments were private, and more closely-guarded now than ever before. Fectur was always a risk, but he had no direct access to Issul's private rooms, and he had already failed to note the casket when it lay conspicuously upon Leth's workdesk. To hide it now might actually be to risk exposing it in the event of calamity or clandestine search. Consulted about this, Orbelon, after brief consideration, had agreed.

   'Orbelon, are you there?' Issul peered about the chamber, seeking out the vague figure of the god, filled with unease. She knew so little about him, nothing more than he had told her, in fact. He professed himself benign, but how could she be sure? Leth had left instructions with Pader Luminis that the casket must be protected at all costs, had hinted that the fate of Enchantment's Reach might somehow be bound up with the casket. And when Issul had taken the casket, then had come Orbelon with his claim that within him, within the world that he had somehow become, Issul's children and husband were alive. What could she do but trust him, and hope?

'Orbelon, I have to talk to you.'    

   The silence unnerved her, set her fearing the worst.
'Orbelon!'

   At last there came a voice, dry, aged, laboured, from behind her.
'Ah, Queen Issul.'

   Issul turned. The stooped, bulky figure of Orbelon, not wholly distinct, rested beside the window, surrounded by the faintest corona of pale blue.

   'I apologise,' he said. 'I was lost.'

   'Lost?'

   'Within. It is an extraordinary thing. I have yet to become accustomed to the idea, the
fact
that I am truly that which I have always denied I could be, a god in the purest interpretation of the word. Out of dormancy, out of unconsciousness and an infinity of striving, without knowing that this was what I was striving for. . . .' His massive head shook slowly and he leaned heavily with both hands upon his staff, his spine bowed. '. . . I have given birth to a world. This is a wonder almost too immense to contemplate. And it pains me, renders me ecstatic, moves me. . . . Ah, Queen Issul. . . .' He trailed off. 'No words can possibly convey this.'

   'What have you found?' enquired Issul with hope. 'Are you able to see within?'

   'Sense is a closer approximation. But I am outside, an exiled god. I can see nothing.'

   'But you sense life?'

   'Oh yes. Absolutely yes. I’ve told you already, Orbelon's world has life. It is alive. And fragile.' He peered towards the blue casket on the chiffonier. 'So vulnerable and easily shattered. Take care, Queen Issul. Cherish it like a babe in your hands, for it’s upon you that its future depends.'

   Issul bit her lip. 'What do you sense of this life?'

   'That it is, that’s all. I told you before, I can’t identify the creatures that dwell here. And I know your real question. I’m sorry, if I could find Leth and your children I would, but I don’t know how. Should I discover something, anything, I will tell you.'

   Issul was silent for some moments, racked by waves of emotion. When she could speak without her voice betraying her, she said, 'Orbelon, tell me there is an alternative.'

   'An alternative to what?'

  
'To going with you to Enchantment.'

   Orbelon hesitated. 'I cannot. There isn’t.'

   'There has to be.'

   'I’m sorry. I wish it could be otherwise.'

   'I cannot leave.'

   'You don’t have a choice.'

   'I will be giving Enchantment's Reach into the hands of my enemies.'

   'Remain here and you give it both to your enemies and mine. It is utterly certain that all will perish, and Leth and your children . . . we will never know. But go with me and there is at least a hope.'

   'Hardly. You’ve said it yourself.'

   'I am your only hope. But here, deprived of the Soul of the Orb, I’m scarcely better than helpless.'

    'But you admit that the Orb's Soul may lie anywhere within Enchantment, or even beyond.'

   'But if you can take me to Triune . . . .'

   'Yes?'

   'We have certain things in common, Triune and I.
A mutuality of interests, if Triune can only be induced to see it as such.'

   Issul stared at him, torn. His figure was vague; he seemed composed of little more than shadow - a bulking, uncertain mass of shadow thrown from no discernible objects. She shook her head, forcing back tears. 'I cannot leave.'

   In her mind an image formed, of Leth and her two small children wandering, lost, in a hostile, alien world. She stifled a sob that threatened to break her in two, and turned away so Orbelon might not see her face.

   'You are noble,' said Orbelon, 'and brave, so brave. But you are tragically mistaken. You believe that by staying here you are helping your people and the kingdom, and that this is your duty over and above your devotion to your own family. You have it wrong. Yes, your duty is to do all you can to save your people. But stay here and you will be sacrificing them and your family too.'

   Issul shook her head. Her voice quavered. 'I need evidence.'

   'Am I not evidence enough?'

   'All I have is your word. You say you want to help me, but Fectur would say the same thing. I know nothing of you, yet I am expected to follow your bidding, and in doing so entrust the kingdom to Fectur. I need more, Orbelon.'

   She almost choked on her tears.
My babies, Leth, am I forced to abandon you?

   'This is taking a terrible toll on you, child,' said Orbelon softly. 'I can give you nothing more than I already have, but I can only reiterate: there is no alternative. And we must go now, for the
Karai are almost upon us. Soon there will be no way out of Enchantment's Reach.'

III

   Until now Issul had felt that a meeting with the man known as Grey Venger was more than she could bear. He was reckoned to be dangerously insane, and Pader Luminis had attested to the unnerving power of his mental state and the effect it had had on Leth during their meetings. But with Leth no longer here, and Fectur desperate to have Venger in his grasp once more, Issul knew that she could avoid him no longer.

   Pader Luminis had brought her up to date on everything that, to his knowledge, had passed between Venger and King Leth before Leth's disappearance. Much defied comprehension, verging on deranged babble. Yet, as Pader carefully pointed out, there were in Venger's pronouncements uncanny correspondences to the circumstances that embroiled Enchantment's Reach, particularly in regard to the True Sept's prophecy regarding the coming of the Legendary Child. And Pader knew nothing of Orbelon or the Orb's soul. Issul, like her husband before her, thought she saw a particular possible connection which set a question clamouring in her mind:
Is it possible that Venger holds the key to everything that is happening here?

   She knew she could avoid Grey Venger no longer.

   With some trepidation she approached the door to the chamber where Venger was held. A male voice rang out loudly, 'The Queen!'

   Sentries stiffened to attention. The sergeant-of-the-guard, breastplate and helmet gleaming, marched forward to meet her. He tilted his head smartly and saluted. '
Your Majesty!'

   'I wish to enter.'

   The sergeant swivelled and beckoned to a pair of guards further along the corridor. They came at the run and stood rigid behind him.

   'No,' said Issul. 'I am going in alone.'

   The sergeant's jaw went slack. 'Your Majesty?'

   'I don’t require a guard. Simply remain on station close outside the door.'

   'But, Your Majesty, the prisoner--'

   'Please unlock the door, sergeant.'

   The blood had drained from the unhappy guardsman's cheeks. He hesitated, swallowed, found the courage to speak again. 'Your Majesty, I beg you to forgive me, but I would be negligent in my duties if I failed to point out to you that the prisoner is not restrained in any way. He is considered unpredictable and highly dangerous.'

   'Thank you, sergeant.' Issul gave a wan smile of reassurance. 'Your concern is right and proper. I will call for you if I require assistance. Now, unlock the door please.'

   The sergeant hesitated, then gave a stiff nod and moved to comply. Inside the apartment Issul could at first see no sign of the man she had come to interview. The main chamber was silent and still; from outside she could hear the gentle hiss of drizzle upon rooftiles and stone. She wondered if Grey Venger was asleep in the bedchamber beyond. She stepped towards the door of the bedchamber, then stopped, spying a lean-limbed figure crouched upon a chair before one window.

  'Grey Venger.'

  The figure did not move. She could make out little of his features due to the light at his back. She took three steps in order to position herself where she might view him better.

   'Who are you?' Venger's voice was harsh and, even in such a blunt question, tinted with mockery.

   'I wish to talk to you.'

  
'Talk? Talk?' He gave a derisive chuckle, tugging at his grey beard. 'What would the Grey Venger want with talk with a miltpot? Are you not sent to give comfort to the Grey Venger?'

   Issul stood calm. 'I am not. I’ve come only to talk, to share knowledge, which is the reason you agreed to come to Orbia.'

   'What new trick is this?' Grey Venger uncurled his legs, placing his feet upon the floor, and leaned forward from the waist. 'Leth sends me one of his splashers, to
talk?
To
'exchange knowledge'
?' He snorted, then his face became still and he peered suspiciously at Issul. 'Or is it the High Lord Spectre who has sent you?'

   'Neither. I am the Queen.'

   'The Queen?' Venger sprang out of his seat and thrust himself at her. Surprised, Issul drew back. Grey Venger pushed his agonized features close to hers, inspecting her as though she were no more than a whore, a slave or a workbeast up for sale. 'The Queen! Issul! Godless spouse of the godless mouse! Yes, yes, it truly is! I didn’t recognise you, but then why should I? I make no apology for you are of no consequence. Am I required to bow?'

   'I won’t insist upon formality if it displeases you.'

   'Displeases!' Venger laughed briefly and mirthlessly, stroking his chin and appraising her with haughty insolence. 'What do you want?'

   'You came to Orbia, I am informed, to talk with King Leth, one to one, as equals. I ask only the same.'

   'Equals?
Hah!
' With a guttural bark Grey Venger threw himself from her. He crossed the chamber with long bounds, stabbing at the air with bony hands. 'Leth! Low, skulking Leth! He still thinks himself my equal? Bah! He is nothing.
Nothing!
He is less than a beetle's droppings which I am not even aware that I crush beneath my feet. And you,
Queen Issul
- ' Grey Venger spun around and bounded back. He thrust his hooked nose almost against hers, hands poised as if to seize her. Issul recoiled, readying herself for defence, but the fingers did not make contact. ' - lesser men deem you beautiful, but they see with the eyes of the Unclean. Grey Venger's eyes have been opened by the One Truth. The Grey Venger sees what is real. He stands before 'beauty' such as yours and sees only the sputum of a louse that he plucks from the crotch of a diseased dog!'