The Paths of the Dead (Viscount of Adrilankha) (16 page)

Read The Paths of the Dead (Viscount of Adrilankha) Online

Authors: Steven Brust

BOOK: The Paths of the Dead (Viscount of Adrilankha)
5.75Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“How, you wonder?”
“Yes, exactly, I wonder.”
“Come, Your Highness, for so I will call you, even though the Cycle has been broken. Tell us what you mean. Speak plainly.”
“Well, you perceive that I am a Dzur, therefore I am unable to speak other than plainly.”
“And that is good.”
“I will tell you then.”
“You perceive that we are all listening.”
“Then this is what I wish to say: What will you do, Kâna, if some of the Houses refuse your Empire?”
“What will I do?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“That is a frank question, and I will be equally frank in my answer.”
“I ask for nothing less.”
This was, in fact, a question that Kâna had anticipated—in fact, more than anticipating it, he had expected it—and so he and his cousin had spent some time in discussion concerning how to answer it. Should the reader be curious as to results of
this discussion, be assured we will explain at once, and, in the simplest possible way: that is, we will permit the reader to hear how he answered the question the Princess Sennya did him the honor to ask, and thus the reader will be able to deduce the results of the discussion without the historian taking the time to make an explanation that, with the results of the conversation clearly laid before the reader, is easily seen to be not only useless, but unnecessary.
Kana, then, answered the Dzurlord by saying, “Your Highness, we are building an Empire, and hope to rebuild the Cycle. Should we be opposed by any force, we must of necessity give battle, hoping that the caprices of chance and the intervention of the gods, as well as our own skill and force of arms, will be sufficient to the task. Yet, with this clearly understood, we do not propose to force anyone to join us. Indeed, it is our belief that, soon enough, it will be clear to everyone that there is no reason to oppose us, but, on the contrary, every reason to join with us as soon as possible.”
Sennya frowned, as if she needed to work this out to be certain she was not being threatened. At last she decided that she was not, and gave Kana a brusque nod.
The Dragonlord then said, “We do not, in fact, expect anyone to answer our question now; on the contrary, it is our intention to present the information, and then permit you to take as much time as you require to consider the matter, and to perhaps formulate questions, which we promise to answer to the best of our ability. Therefore, permit me to suggest that we together enjoy a repast my cooks have prepared, after which those of you who live nearby may wish to return to your homes, and the rest of you those rooms to which we showed you when you did us the honor to agree to be our guests, and we will resume our conversation in a week. Has anyone any reason to put forth why this plan should not be adopted?”
In the event, no one had the least objection, and, in fact, many considered it admirable. So agreeable was this idea, in fact, that it was put into action at once, and everyone adjourned to the dining hall, where they were seated at a large circular table that Kâna had had built for the occasion and that permitted everyone to sit according to his House’s position in the Cycle. Here they were given a feast of a whole roasted
kethna along with a selection of vegetables and wines calculated to please the wide variety of palates that had been gathered. It was generally conceded by everyone except Kâna that the feast was, indeed, the most successful part of the evening.
Certainly this was the opinion of Princess Sennya, Dzur Heir. She had not been unduly impressed with anything she had heard on this day, and she reflected, as she lay upon the bed in the room Kana had allocated for her use, that had it not been for the meal, the journey would have been useless.
“I wonder,” she said to herself, “if I wish to remain for the meeting next week, or simply return now to Blackbirdriver and to my daughter.”
Her thoughts, having arrived at her daughter, came to rest there, and a warm smile spread across her features. “I have made many errors in my life,” she admitted to herself. “I have been foolish, and self-indulgent, and irresponsible, and even, on one occasion, weak. Yet I still have Ibronka, and, through her, there is a future, for me, and for my land where the Blackbird River rushes through canyon and gorge, white-capped, proud, lovely, and dangerous. Not unlike my daughter herself, come to that. That one could break some hearts if she chose, and I mean that in ways beyond the metaphorical, for her wrist is strong and supple, her eye keen, and she knows nothing of fear, and her mind is as sharp as her blade. Black hair, black eyes, small, yet as fierce as a dzur—as fierce as I was when I was young. Perhaps the gods have forgiven me my lapse, for they have graced me with a daughter to make up for—well, for the one who is lost.
“It must have been a gift of the gods,” she reflected, “for not only had I thought myself too old to have a child, but, when the Plague took my lord Ibron before he could see his daughter, it somehow spared me. I must never fail to give thanks each day to Barlen for this gift, and I must remind myself to permit no more lapses.
“Apropos,” she continued, “what of this Kana? Can he, truly, bring back the Empire? It would be a grand thing indeed for my daughter to be raised with all the benefits of civilization that I enjoyed. And yet—do I trust him? Is he anything more than another power-hungry Dragon warlord? I wish I knew.”
She stared up the ceiling for some few moments, as if there were writing upon it that would tell her what to do. She considered that her duchy was located directly in the path of Kâna’s expansion, and observed, “If I do not support him, I must prepare to oppose him. And, come to that, if I oppose him, I must see to it that my daughter is safe, because she is old enough to wish to give battle, but not yet old enough to fulfill her wish. I should send her away. But then, to where could I send her?”
She sighed, and continued her reflections until, at last, she slept.
 
 
How Röaanac Returned Home
And Had to Make Difficult Decisions
 
 
 
A
s the Princess reflects and sleeps, we hope the reader will permit us to follow Lord Röaanac of the House of the Tiassa, who had said nothing during the gathering, but rather contented himself with thinking his own thoughts, which pursuit he found so satisfying that he continued it during the sixteen-hour journey to his home in the lush Valley of Three Seasons at the feet of Mount Lostway in the Kanefthali Mountains. When he reached the manor, also called Three Seasons, his servant, a Teckla of perhaps a thousand years whose name was Haro, had seen him soon enough not only to alert his family, but also to be waiting outside to hold his stirrup and tend to his horse, all of which earned him a smile and a nod.
“Welcome home, my lord,” said Haro.
“It is good to be back, Haro,” said Röaanac.
He took himself into the manor itself and embraced his wife, after which he offered her his arm.
“It is good to see you home again, my lord,” she said.
“It is good to be home, my lady.”
These statements, though required by the formality husband and wife are always owed to each other, were said with sufficient emotion that their truth could not be doubted on either side. They made their way into the manor, which was
small, as manors go, having in all fewer than twenty rooms, yet spacious and comfortable, as is typical for the home of a Tiassa. In the hallway, Röaanac was greeted by his only child, a girl of some ninety or ninety-five years called Röaana.
“Ah Röaana, come and embrace your father.”
“Gladly,” said the girl, and did so.
After embracing him, the girl said, “My lord father, I hope all is well, and that your journey proved satisfactory.”
“It went as I thought it would,” said Röaanac with a shrug.
“That is, a Dragon warlord behaving like a thousand other Dragon warlords, only this one has been rather more successful, and thinking to call his domain an Empire, as he has already been doing for some time, now wishes to enlist the other Houses, so that he may become recognized as more than a Dragon warlord.”
“And,” said his wife, who was called Malypon, “will anything come of it?”
“Nothing good, at any rate,” said Röaanac. “The fool even believes he will convince the House of the Lyorn to join in his madness. Still—”
“Yes?” said Malypon. “Still?”
“It occurs to me that some trouble could result.”
“Trouble? How? Do you mean for us?”
“Not for us, my dear, because I long ago agreed to his terms and conditions, and became his vassal.”
“Oh, I am well enough aware of this fact. But then, if not for us, what do you mean?”
“In fact, my lady, I am not certain; it is just a notion that has made its way into my head that this Dragonling could be dangerous.”
“My lord husband, I have known you too long to ignore those notions that work their way into your head. What ought we to do?”
Röaanac frowned. “I am, as yet, uncertain. Let us consider the matter.”
“Very well, let us do so.”
“But not, perhaps, at this instant.”
“Of course, my lord. You’ve just returned from a journey, and, I am certain, stand in need of, first, sustenance, and after that, rest.”
“My lady, you understand me exactly, so that no husband has ever been better pleased.”
“Well, that is only just, because no wife has ever had a better husband. But now, let us see what we can find in the kitchens.”
“Sir and Madam,” said Röaana, “if you will give me leave, I will retire for the evening. I have eaten, and it was only for the pleasure of embracing you, my father, that I have remained awake until now.”
“Of course, child,” said her father. “Come, embrace me once more, and your mother, and then you may retire.”
Röaana made her way up the stairs to her room, where, after starting a fire in her hearth and changing into her night clothes, she took a moment as she often did to step out onto her porch, where, during the day, she had a view of the Coldwater Lake and much of the valley, and, at night, she could see twinkling lights from the village of the same name as the lake. The breeze was chilly on this evening, so she did not remain out-of-doors long, but the time was, nevertheless, sufficient for us to quickly sketch her.
As Tiassa go, she was perhaps slightly short, yet so well proportioned that the sternest critic could have found no fault. As to her face, here, too, she had been gifted by nature with all that a connoisseur of beauty could request. Her eyes were narrow and, if we are permitted, feline beneath brows that, being the same color as her hair, was of such a light brown it was nearly blond; and these eyes, which were her most striking feature, seemed to glitter and sparkle with mischief or delight in the most endearing way. She had the ears of her house—that is, more pointed than those of an Athyra, but less so than those of Dzur. Her nose was straight, her lips full, her chin strong, and she had, moreover, a way of flipping her long hair impatiently behind her back that made her doting father shake his head in pity for those who would likely fall under her spell, should she decide to play the coquette.
As we look upon her, then, we find that she has not yet come back into the room, and so we will take it upon ourselves to listen as she holds conversation with herself, as many Tiassa are wont to do.
“It is clear,” she began, “that Pepé is upset, and is hiding
something from me. I suppose I should be angry at him for treating me as if I were a child, but I know that to him I will still be a child when I have seen my two thousandth year, and so there is no sense in becoming angry. I only wish there were something I could do to help him. Of course, Mamé will do all that is required, as she always does.
“I wonder,” she continued, staring out at the valley, “what I will do when I no longer have them near at hand for counsel? For it is certain that someday I will go forth into the world on my own. Even now I feel that urge, to go, to explore, to find—or, rather, to
create
—my own place.
“Perhaps it will be soon. It is true, there is much I have to learn; yet I know that, somehow, I will leave my mark upon this world. Ah, if only I had been born in the days of the Empire; then I should be able to travel the world, to find my place. Well, but it is useless to complain about what cannot be helped.”
She stared out at the night, shivering, and suddenly became aware that she was cold, after which she went back indoors and to her warm bed.
After their daughter had retired, Röaanac and Malypon sat in the kitchen and ate soft rolls with good butter and the crumbly, pungent cheese of the region, along with dried figs, followed by hardtack, which Röaanac always ate because he pretended it would keep his teeth strong. All of this was washed down by fermented apple cider, made from apples out of their own orchard, strengthened by the extreme cold temperatures that could be found in the winter by a short trek up the mountain—the same mountain that the two of them could, at least during the daylight hours, see vanishing into the orange-red Enclouding through the open window of the kitchen. Even now, at night, they knew that the view was out there, and so, in their mind’s eye, they could see it as if it were daylight.
“My lord,” said Malypon.
“Well, my lady?”
“I have an opinion.”
“I recognize you so well in that!”
“It is true, I often have opinions.”
“And, my dear one, they are more often right than they are wrong.”
“It may be that this one is also right.”
“That would not startle me. Perhaps, if you will tell me this opinion, I will agree with it.”
“We will soon see, for I am about to tell you my opinion.”
“This very instant? Well, then I am listening.”
“Here it is: In my opinion, my lord, you are more worried than you were willing to let on in front of Röaana.”
“Ah! Is that what you believe?”
“It is, my beloved.”
“Well, you are not far from the truth, dear heart.”
“Ah!”
“You perceive, I believe there are some who would oppose this Kana, and, moreover, would oppose him with fire and sword.”
“And you worry because you have agreed to be his vassal?”
Röaanac shook his head. “Not so much for that reason. Our agreement is very limited, and includes a certain token tribute and the pledge not to revolt against him, but it does not require me to fight on his behalf.”
“Well then?”
Röaanac sighed. “Even though I am not required to fight with him nor to defend him, well, we are, you perceive, located in the very heart of his domain.”
“But my lord husband, it would seem to me that, in that case, should conflict arise, we are located as far as can be from what Dragons refer to as ‘the front.’”
“What you say is true, my dear wife, and yet—”
“Well? And yet?”
“That is only true if the conflict should take the form of traditional military action.”
“Yes, I see that. And you think it will not?”
“I worry that someone might strike for the heart. It is, after all, what I would do.”
“I concede the possibility, my lord. But what then?”
“What then? Well, I worry about our daughter.”
“Yes, that is true. I should mislike seeing her in the middle of such an affair; I fear being unable to protect her.”
“That is it exactly.”
Malypon nodded and said, “I understand. And yet—”
“Well?”
“What can we do?”
“Oh, as to that, well, I confess that I have no idea. But come, I believe I have done my share by announcing the problem; it is now your turn to find the solution.”
Malypon smiled and said, “How, you pretend I can solve this problem?”
“It would not astonish me if you could.”
“I can think of nothing else than to send her away.”
Röaanac sighed. “Yes, in truth, it is all I can think of. And yet, where we can send her? You perceive, our family are all gathered in this district, and thus she would be no safer with, for example, my sister, the Baroness of Shalebrook, than she would be here.”
Malypon considered for a moment, then said, “You know, do you not, that my brother, Shalicar, is married to a woman named Norissa.”
“Well, and if he is? For, you perceive, Shalicar and Norissa live not forty miles from our doorstep; it is for this reason that we are so often victims of your brother’s experiments in combining fruits to produce wine.”
“Yes, that is true, only—”
“Well?”
“Norissa has a sister.”
“Ah! I had not known this circumstance.”
“I am aware of it, because she often speaks of her; and, indeed, my brother and his wife, from time to time, speak of visiting this sister, although they never do so because of the dangers of the roads in this day.”
“Well then, who is this famous sister?”
“In truth, my lord, I do not remember her name, yet she is Countess of Whitecrest, which is the county that contains the seacoast city of Adrilankha.”
“And you think this Countess might be willing to take our daughter until the danger is past?”
“I will prevail upon my brother to ask, and my brother cannot refuse me—no more, then, can his wife refuse him, nor her sister refuse Norissa.”
Röaanac nodded. “It will be hard for our daughter.”
“And harder for us, my lord. She is so young!”
“Yes, she is. And yet, I tell you that I think it is the best thing to do.”
“Well, I do not dispute that. Except—”
“Yes?”
“The roads are hardly safe.”
Röaanac chuckled. “You forget that I am vassal to Kâna. Shards! It must be good for something! I will claim my right as vassal to arrange an escort for her.”
Malypon nodded. “Yes, that would ease my mind.”
“And so?”
“And so I will write to my brother, and that to-morrow, and, well, we will see.”
“Yes, we will do that. And shall we speak to Röaana concerning this matter?”
“I believe, my lord, that we should waste no time in doing so. It is true that she is young, yet she is no child, and should know what we intend, and why.”
“With this plan I agree,” said Röaanac.
“Very well, then, to-morrow we will speak with her, and, moreover, we will write to your brother.”

Other books

Eyes of the Calculor by Sean McMullen
The Chinese Assassin by Anthony Grey
The Boy With Penny Eyes by Sarrantonio, Al
Beyond Eden by Catherine Coulter
Screen of Deceit by Nick Oldham
Shadow's Dangers by Mezni, Cindy
From Embers by Pogue, Aaron
Darkroom by Joshua Graham
The Hermit's Daughter by Joan Smith