Orbelon's World (Book 3) (6 page)

   'Your death, I think.'

   'Ah, but I can at least console myself in the knowledge that I do not go to my grave alone.'  

   He glanced down between them. She looked down and saw his dagger blade held firm, its tip a mere finger's breadth from her ribcage. Had he thrust forward, or had she pushed towards him, she would have been impaled.

   Shenwolf threw off his leather helmet and let his head fall back upon the floor, closing his eyes for a moment, breathing hard. For a moment Issul gazed at him. His damp hair clung to his forehead. He opened his eyes and met her gaze. She rolled away and rose to her feet.

   Master Meles approached, clapping. 'Superb!
Most instructive to watch.'

   He began to help Issul unfasten the straps of her hauberk as Shenwolf stood. Shenwolf looked with irony at Issul. 'And you called my technique unorthodox? That last move with the feet is something I’ve never encountered before.'

   Issul smiled. 'But I don't think you’ll be caught by it again.'

   Shenwolf gave a sigh, sheathing his blade. 'Ah well, it was an enjoyable tussle.'

   Issul shrugged off the hauberk. Her face became pensive. 'I’ve given much thought to your station here within Enchantment's Reach. You’ve demonstrated loyalty and service over and above the call of duty. I learn, too, that you earned King Leth's personal commendation before you rode from Enchantment's Reach in search of me. I’m grateful, Shenwolf.'

   'I did only what was required in the circumstances.'

   'No. You did far more. Will you accept promotion? I would have you raised to the office of captain. Furthermore, I wish you transferred from the King's Cavalry to the Orbia Royal  Guard, where you will serve in my personal guard. You will be quartered here, within the Palace, in your own private apartment. Is this agreeable to you?'

   Shenwolf bowed his head. 'This is a great privilege. I’ve served such a short time.'

   'But exceptionally, with courage, initiative and signal devotion to the Crown. You have shown yourself again and again to be more than worthy. It would please me immensely if you would accept.'

   'Then I accept gladly.'

   Issul turned to Kol and Phisusandra. 'And you two, who are also my brave and loyal companions. I promised financial reward to those who returned with me to Enchantment's Reach, and this will be forthcoming. Furthermore, it is my hope that you will choose to stay here with us. On the face of it the prospect may not appear too enticing, given the conflict that’s upon us. But the conflict will not end here unless we of Enchantment's Reach can bring about its end. It will spread in ways we cannot yet imagine, for it is no natural conflict that we face. All the known lands will be engulfed, and those which lie beyond too. So, if you choose to leave you will depart with my fond and grateful good wishes. I will provide you with the best mounts, and your purses will bulge. With fortune on your side you may yet somehow escape the terrible war that embroils us. On the other hand, I need loyal and responsible men around me at this time more than ever. Out of gratitude I will provide decent homes for you both, with money enough to establish yourselves in whatever business you may choose, without further commitment on your part. If you have a taste for the soldier's life, however, I would also have you both drafted into my personal guard, to serve directly under Shenwolf's command.'

   Without hesitation Kol replied, 'I would consider it the greatest honour.'

   Phisusandra stepped forward and bowed. 'You pay me a great compliment, Majesty. I will be proud to remain here and serve you.'

   'Excellent
!,' declared Issul, smiling broadly at each of them. 'Excellent! Already I feel that my enemies have taken a step back!.'

   'Perhaps we could--' Shenwolf began,
then broke off, the smile leaving his face. He was looking upwards at something beyond Issul's shoulder.

  Issul turned, following the direction of his gaze. At the balcony of the upper gallery a figure stood silent and motionless, clad in a loose black robe.

   Issul stiffened. Her features grew cold. 'Lord Fectur.'

   Fectur inclined his head slightly, his face impassive.

   'What is it you want?' asked the Queen.

   'I was passing, that is all, and found myself drawn to observe the activities here,' the Lord High Invigilate replied. 'It was a magnificent display, my lady.
My congratulations to you.'

   'I was not truly the victor,' Issul said.

   'I meant for your choice of partner.'

   She caught the inflection in his voice, and bristled. Fectur's eyes travelled briefly over
Shenwolf, then back, expressionlessly, to the Queen. 'Ah yes, the emergency assembly you requested has been convened for three hours hence.'

  
'Very good.' Issul turned away, a dozen emotions warring in her head. Fectur glanced again at Shenwolf then, flickeringly, at Kol and Phisusandra, and withdrew.

II

   In her apartment once more, Issul undressed as her maids filled a porcelain bath with warm water scented with crushed leaves of lemon verbena. She lathered herself all over with sandalwood soap, washing away the exertions of the morning, and rested for mere moments as the water soothed her tired muscles. Then she climbed from the bath and donned fresh garments. She chose a long, loose blouse of pale gold satin, sashed at the waist, and baggy blue pantaloons gathered at the ankles, with soft doeskin ankleboots on her feet. Such attire, like that which she had worn earlier, was better suited to present circumstances than the more formal and cumbersome vestments of office, which restricted movement and made every breath an effort. 

   Her thoughts went to Leth and the children. What perils were they facing in Orbelon's world? Leth's sword rested in its rack; during his confinement it and all other weapons had been removed, by Fectur's command, 'for his own protection'. Leth, almost certainly, was defenceless.

   Issul almost choked.
It was I who allowed the Legendary Child to live! I have brought all this about! 

   She shook her head, dispelling the thought. She had allowed her nephew to live. Could she have known?

   She cast her mind back yet again to the terrible moments of Moscul's unnatural birth. Yes, she had known something. She had suspected, even though she did not wholly believe. She had hidden her nephew with Ohirbe's family at Lastmeadow, hoping against desperate hope that her fears were unfounded. How could she have been so foolish?

   Beyond her window the roofs of Enchantment's Reach shone in a dazzling golden light. The earlier drizzle had ceased and the sun had burned through much of the mist. Enchantment's Reach presented an unworldly spectacle, cloaked as it was now in the defences erected at King Leth's orders to deter slooth attacks. Netting, rope, sheets of metal mesh, lines of cord, cloth, anything at all that could be slung from window to bastion, merlon to finial, were draped from roofs, towers, turrets. Pikes, spears and sharpened poles jutted skywards everywhere at bizarre angles - any device or contrivance that might conceivably hinder the slooths should they descend once more upon the capital.

   The great city-castle appeared wrapped in a colossal web, ragged, bristling and spiny, cast by some unknown gigantean arachnid. And still so much remained unprotected. Labourers toiled day and night to produce more net, more rope, more mesh, but it was an impossible task. The vastness of Enchantment's Reach forebade any hope of covering it in its entirety.

   Arbalestiers and bowmen were stationed at alert at battlements and windows, their eyes upon the skies. Great water-butts and pails had been installed at regular intervals on parapets and in the city streets, for use in the event of a repeat of the fire-bombing the slooths had brought against Giswel Holt. Far off, beyond the ocean of mist-wreathed forest far below, the rain and clouds still obscured the fiery peaks of Enchantment's mountains. Issul felt a strange conflict of emotion as she gazed there towards the unseen.

   I have been there, and returned!

   She recalled the words of the strange tripartite child-god, Triune: 'Welcome to the true world, the many-named domain, where all things are possible.'

  
All things? Can you return my children to me? Can you save my husband and King? Are you able or willing to act to prevent your world claiming mine?

  
'The unstill air. Something always becomes. Or strives to become. This is Creation.'

  
Creation? Which you strive to suspend?

   'The formed can be unformed, the unformed formed. Here is raw power. Here is dream. Here is magic.'

   
For what end?

   'Here is Enchantment'.

   She recalled her fear, her confusion as  she faced those three identical children with their brilliant, peering blue eyes, as she floundered helplessly in their globe of blue vapour.

   'Be aware when you dream, for you take something of the true world with you now. Something of Enchantment is yours.'

  
But what? What happened there? What does this all mean?

   Issul grew conscious of someone knocking upon the door of her chamber. She smoothed her blouse, gathered her thoughts. 'Come.'

   A high seneschal entered. 'My lady, I am informed by the captain of the guard upon the Palace Gate that someone wishes to see you.'

  
'Who?'

  
'A lady-- a woman. From the country.'

  
Ohirbe? With a pang Issul recalled that the last time she had seen Ohirbe, Moscul's foster-mother, had been on the road to Crosswood. Issul had been bringing Moscul to Enchantment's Reach; Ohirbe and her husband, Arrin, had been in the party. They had been ambushed by the Karai. Moscul escaped, Arrin was killed, Issul had been taken prisoner. To her shame she had barely given a thought to poor Ohirbe since. Her last sight had been of Ohirbe frantically climbing from the cart in pursuit of the fleeing Moscul. Had she survived? Returned to her home in Lastmeadow? Or come on as planned to Enchantment's Reach?

   'Does she have a name?'

   'The captain says she gives no name,' replied the seneschal. 'She has been in custody for some hours, apparently. She is insistent that she must speak to you, only you.'

   It would not be Ohirbe, then. She would not have failed to give her name, or to have made her identity plain in some other manner. 'I don’t have time for this.'

   'As we thought, my lady. However, the woman sends a message which she claims you will find meaningful. She says that you and she met in the forest near Crosswood, and that she comes to talk of the Vileborn. The captain says to mention that she bears a recent wound upon her left cheek.'

   Issul's heart kicked. She recalled the moment, as she struggled through the undergrowth in search of Moscul, when she had emerged into a small clearing. Facing her was an old woman on hands and knees, bulky of build, clambering to her feet. Blood streamed down her cheek. There had been no sign of Moscul, but the woman had pointed a shaking finger at Issul and cried out in portentous tones, 'It has begun! It's too late now. I tried, but it is too late!'

   There had been a blinding pain, and darkness. Issul's next memory had been of waking to find herself a prisoner of the Karai.

  
Is a crucial element in this great mystery about to be solved?

   'I will be there immediately,' she told the seneschal. 'Tell the captain that on no account must anybody be allowed to speak to this woman until I get there. And summon Shenwolf. Have him attend me at the guardroom where this woman is held.'

III

   The captain of the guard of the Palace Gate informed Issul that the woman had entered the city-castle the previous evening. One among hundreds of refugees seeking sanctuary from the advancing Karai. Upon gaining access she had separated from her group and made for the gates of Orbia Palace where she had loudly demanded an audience with the Queen.

   'The men thought her mad, a harridan in her cups, or a witch. They paid her little heed, other than as the butt of their coarse humour. In time they were on the verge of having her removed, were even considering tossing her back out through the city gates, so I understand.'

   'So what changed their minds?'

  
'Her persistence, perhaps. It’s not clear. But apparently she had seated herself before the Palace Gate and refused to budge. She was crying out over and over again, something about a lost child in the woods and the Queen being taken by the Karai.'

   Issul drew in a breath. How much had this woman revealed in the presence of so many?

   'These things were reported to me, my lady,' the captain continued. 'Her words made little sense, but knowing of the ambush beyond Crosswood in which you were involved, I was intrigued. I elected to speak to the woman. She is a strange creature. A witch? Yes, perhaps she is that. She certainly has an unfathomable quality. But I got little out of her, other than her insistence upon an audience with you. I would have dismissed her, but when she told me that she had met with you at the site of the Karai ambush, I felt I must refer the matter directly to you.'