Authors: H. Leighton Dickson
“Never been happier. Well, maybe
once.
“Good.
Ursa is sharpening her blades as we speak.”
“Ah
Ursa, my flower, my love. Has she killed anyone lately?”
Kirin grinned as they headed toward
the door, his brother a welcome shadow.
“Say, have you heard the latest
adventure of Kaidan? They say he’s conquered
Shagar’mathah,
you know.
Deflowered the virgin peak as it were, left his cloak as a wedding gift...”
The cedar door creaked closed
behind them.
***
“Ursa, my petal! Kirin says you
missed me! That you’re practically on your death bed with love for me!”
Ursa Laenskaya glared down from the
back of her horse, eyes narrowed in disdain.
“If it came between you and a death
bed, I would not miss.”
“I love you too, dearest and
gentlest. I just conceal it better. You know how people talk.”
“I suppose he
is
necessary, Captain,” she snorted. “We will need someone to clean up after the
horses.”
“Witty
and
fatal, my love.”
Kerris bent to the ground, picked
up a handful of earth, tossed it into the wind. Bits rained back down, while
other bits rose and floated in several directions. Kerris studied it for
several moments, before turning to his brother, rubbing his arms and breathing
deeply the chilly morning air.
“So, where’s Quiz?”
“The stableboy is bringing him out
now.”
“It’s really not fair, Kirin. Quiz
only had four hours too, you know. Unlike snow leopards, horses aren’t made of
stone.”
Kirin grinned and mounted up. His
brother loved that horse of his. It was a mountain pony, as rugged and wild as
the peaks it came from with a long, shaggy mane, an unwrapped tail and a
nondescript coat of mottled brown. But the thing was quite the trail horse, as
surefooted as a goat, with a remarkable capacity for terrains and an uncanny
sense for danger. He was certain Kerris owed the animal his very life many
times over.
He
knew the feeling and reached down to stroke the sleek neck beneath him, to rub
the stiff roached mane. The horse nickered softly, enjoying the touch. alMassay,
his own stallion, was Imperial bred, Imperial trained. Large, powerful,
intelligent. More dependable than soldiers, more faithful than men.
And
they would need all the help they could get.
Straightening up, he let his eyes
scan the group assembled in the courtyard of the House Wynegarde-Grey. Eight
leopards would accompany them, four ahead, four behind, carrying the Imperial
Standard and riding stallions from the Imperial stables. Ursa naturally rode
her own, a steel grey mare with teeth as sharp as hers. The Alchemist and the
Scholar had been assigned quiet stock horses, for Imperial ones were at a
premium in the Upper Kingdom and riding was not a skill known to all. Ox carts,
goat traps and foot were still the common modes of travel in cities and
villages and on the steep, winding roads that connected them. They would take
three geldings to carry supplies, books, weapons and Alchemy stores, while each
rider would be responsible for his/her own blankets and cloak. There was no
time for a change of clothing, for in theory, they would reach the monastery
before one was needed. He nodded to himself. The trip should take ten hours at
a steady trot, in time to make
Sha’Hadin
before the Second Watch. The
third falcon had never arrived, signaling the loss of yet another Seer. Two
left. Only two. Kirin ground his teeth, unable to shake the feeling that this
trip would not end in ten hours, nor the answers found within the cliffs of
Sha’Hadin.
This was going to take much, much longer.
“Well
well, I must have been very good in my last life. Good morning,
sidalady
tigress!”
Kirin
glanced up. He shook his head. He should have known.
Kerris
was leaning against the shoulder of Fallon Waterford’s sleepy mount, smiling
the smile that had charmed the Royal Courts since his youth. Wide-eyed, the
tigress looked all around her as if seeking its true target, which for some
reason, could not be her.
“Me?”
“You are a tigress, are you not?”
“Well,
yes, yes I am. And wow! I was right. A grey lion!”
“I
am indeed. And you are a clever and spirited girl! I love tigers. They know how
to have fun. Not like snow leopards. Or any leopards. Or even most lions for
that matter.”
Beside
him, Ursa’s long tail lashed like a whip. Kirin found his fingers curling
themselves into fists, quite of their own accord.
“My
name is Kerris, First Geomancer of Imperial Quests, Caravans and other such
travelly things. The roads can be dangerous for lovely young ladies such as
yourself. But never fear, I’ll be there to protect you.”
A high-pitched squeal pierced the
courtyard, threatening to shatter old windows and ancient stonework.
Kerris grinned.
“But a moment,
sidala.”
Slipping
two fingers between his teeth, he whistled, a sharp, shrill whistle that caused
everyone to wince at the sound.
The
frantic staccato of hooves on cobbled stone grew louder, and louder still,
until a ragged little pony burst out from the stable arches, wild-eyed and
flecked with foam. It skidded to a halt only a hand’s breadth from its master,
nostrils flared, flanks heaving. It wore no bridle about its head, carried no
rope or bit of cold metal between its teeth and the only ‘saddle’ on its back
was a blanket tied around it’s belly, as rough and mountain-made as the
creature itself.
Kerris rubbed a
crescent-moon of white hair on the little forehead.
“Hello, Quiz. Sorry to get you up
so early. Duty calls, and all that. Still, we’re game for it, aren’t we, old
friend. Sure we are...”
He glanced up at his twin on his
shiny Imperial stallion.
“Well then, dear brother, where are
we off to this fine morning?”
“
Sha’Hadin
,”
Kirin growled. “I trust you know the way.”
“Yes.
Yes, I do. Gloomy place, very serious. No one smiles much there. Don’t really
say much, either, come to think of it. Guess they don’t need to, eh?” Again,
that smile. “Ah well, at least it’s better than, say,
Agarah’tha.
Now
there’s a place that gives me the chills.”
“You
know
Agarah’tha,
sidi
?”
A
black horse moved forward from the flank of guards, its ebon-clothed rider as
foreboding as Death herself. Long, speckled fingers reached up, slowly pulling
the hood from her face and heavy-lidded, golden eyes stared down at the lion
with a look of obvious intent.
He
could have sworn he heard the sound of a grey chin hitting the cobbles.
Blast,
thought Kirin. This
was very bad.
“Sidalady
cheetah.” Kerris recovered smoothly. He always did. “Forgive my harsh
words. I meant no disrespect to your Order. I meant only that to an adventurer
such as myself, the tunnels of
Agara’tha
are confounding and
frustrating. Not to mention cold, hence... the chills?”
“Of course,
sidi.
A
misunderstanding.”
She
offered him her hand, turning it palm upwards as he moved to kiss it.
“Fall In!” The Captain’s voice
boomed through the courtyard and everyone snapped to attention. “We must make
Sha’Hadin
by sunset. Any questions? If not, we head out.”
There
were no questions.
Grabbing a handful of mane, Kerris
swung on to the back of his pony.
“Right, then. On to
Sha’Hadin!
Let’s hope they can
see
us coming!”
And with that he spurred his heels
into the mottled flanks, disappearing out the main gates like a whirlwind.
Ursa
turned her pale eyes to him.
“Sometimes I very much wish to kill
him.”
“Let’s
get to the monastery first, shall we, Major?”
She seemed disappointed.
“Fall in!” she cried, echoing her
Captain’s order, and the Leopard Guard fell in like a drill team behind her. Sherah
al Shiva glided ahead on her lean, black mount, leaving a glowering Fallon
Waterford plugging helplessly in her dust.
Kirin
rubbed his brow.
Three
women. One Kerris.
How on earth would they all
survive?
alMassay moved forward at the
slightest pressure, out and under the great stone archway of the House
Wynegarde-Grey and into the crisp morning air. Finally, they were on their way,
from
Pol’Lhasa
to
Sha’Hadin
.
It is interesting to note that the
air grows colder the closer one gets to the sky. From the Royal City, it was
almost as if the Great Mountains aimed her daggers straight to the heart of the
sun. Therefore, one would think the snow should melt away like iron thrust into
a blacksmith’s forge. Indeed, most mornings, the peaks glow as if melting, but
come noontime, they are as white as the clouds only returning to gold with the
approach of sunset. So, it would seem that it is the moon that forges the gold
and the sun that forges the silver. Likewise, the higher the earth climbs, the
colder the air becomes and it is the very depths of the jungle that brings the
scorching heat of midday. It is a mystery.
They had left the gates of the
Royal City many hours ago, and the terrain had not varied much. If anything, it
seemed the Great Mountains had grown fiercer, more protective, as they traveled
the narrow roads that led to
Sha’Hadin.
Slopes sheered off sharply from
the rocky paths with inclines as steep and dangerous as any cliff, and
vegetation was a rare sight amongst the sandstone and granite of the valleys.
Snowdrifts were common though, for at this height, the shadows stayed cold even
in summer and beginnings of streams would freeze nightly. Kirin knew from experience
that, come sunset, even their breaths would be ice.
But he loved it, he had to admit.
Even when the Mountains were at their worst, he would never trade them for any
lush jungle or fertile valley in the Upper Kingdom. Here, the air was sweet,
the waters cold and the skies went on forever.
He
urged alMassay forward to pull up beside the Scholar. She was panting slightly,
looking uncomfortable in her heavy cloak. He knew the feeling. The mid-afternoon
sun was hot on their backs even as the air was cool. Breathing quickly became
labored and riders light-headed as they maintained the steady climb. The brisk
trot of morning had been exchanged for the more realistic jog of noon and all
horses seemed to take their cues from Quiz, the mountain pony with the eyes of
a falcon and the feet of a goat.
“How are you doing,
sidala?”
“Oh,
well, I guess not too bad, really, all things considered. Why? Do I look bad?”
He smiled a small
smile. “No. But sometimes, the riding—”
“Oh, I’ve ridden before.”
“In the University?”
“No,
at home.” She swallowed, panting slightly before she continued. “We had a yak.”
It was Kirin’s turn to swallow, for
a laugh had almost gotten the better of him.
“A yak? I hear they are... quite
the ride.”
“No. They’re pretty terrible,
really. This is much better.”
“Good.”
He moved his stallion forward, when
her voice stopped him.
“Do
you think we can stop this, Captain? I mean, with the Seers. Do you think we
can find out what’s killing them?”
He
let his gaze wander out over the craggy valleys, so very far below them. But in
his mind’s eye, he saw
Pol’Lhasa,
her gardens and beams, her servants
and courts.
“It is our duty.”
“I
hope so, too.”
alMassay
pushed onwards, towards the eerie sound of humming. Ahead, the Alchemist’s
black mare seemed to glide along the rocky paths as if its hoofs never touched
the ground. Across its wide cantle, several saddlebags lay strapped containing
powders and potions, vials and compounds. One small pouch of blood-red satin
floated above them all, with strands of spider-silk to keep it from
disappearing up into the skies entirely. He had never seen anything quite like
it. It whispered unnatural things to his soul.
“Captain,”
she purred, not having turned her head.
“
Sidala.
You ride well.”
“I
do many things well, Captain.”
Good thing Kerris was ahead,
he thought grimly.
Far, far ahead.
“Are you able to detect poisons,
sidala?”
“All manner of poisons,
sidi.
Natural, and otherwise. I have considerable experience with the dead and the
dying.”
“And
the living?”
“Some.”
“Well.
That will have to do.”
With
a good measure of relief, he pushed onward still, drawing up beside the Major’s
grey mare. She had twisted her long hair back in a knot, and the cloak she wore
was as silver as her pelt. He could see she was irritated, however, and found a
good measure of relief in those few things that would never change.
“Our time is not good,” she
growled. “We will not make
Sha’Hadin
by nightfall.”
“We
only need make the Second Watch, Ursa. Nightfall is not a prerequisite.”
“I do not wish to be riding these
trails in the dark.”
“Good
point. How are your charges?”
Her
hand slipped down to the pommel of her saddle, to the two tiny baskets strapped
on either side. A muted chirrup was heard from within the first.
“This one, Na’rang, seems content
enough, but this one...”
From the other, a hooked beak
jabbed at her through the weave, issuing shrill cries and protesting its
confinement.
“... I believe this one has a
problem with baskets.”
Kirin
grinned. “Perhaps that one has a problem with you.”
“Perhaps.”
She snorted. “I shall be interested in meeting the man responsible for such an
ill-tempered pet.”
Again, alMassay moved forward,
bypassing the four leopard guards riding ahead. They all nodded silently as he
swept past, up a particularly steep incline. He leaned forward, easing the
weight from his stallion’s back. The powerful haunches engaged and they lunged
forward, and forward again, sending tiny bits of shale sliding down the path
below.
Finally,
they made breast of this climb and Kirin reined in his mount to breathe in the
view. It was spectacular, an endless panorama of cliff and valley, snow and
shale. Blue sky, bluer than his mother’s eyes and white – the spears and
fangs and daggers of the Mother’s Arms, Protectress of the Upper Kingdom. Blue
and white. Clarity and purity. Harmony and balance. He nodded, understanding
why the Seers chose to locate in these mountains for it seemed that one could
see from one edge of the Kingdom to the other all the way to the oceans. Nothing
could be hidden from up here, no secrets or plots, no army or ambush, from
minds trained to see as a falcon sees, in the endless expanse of dreams and
visions. Yes, he could understand it all quite well.
“Kirin!”
A
flash of grey and mottled brown and the mountain pony scrambled into sight from
behind a bend in the rock. In seconds, Kerris was at his side, looking for all
the world as though he belonged right here on this particular road in these
particular mountains. One would never have guessed he was noble-born.
“Splendid
view, eh? We stopping for lunch?”
Kirin
shook his head. “No stopping today, Kerris. We must make our destination.”
“Right.”
A grey hand fished in his pocket, pulled out a roll of dried white flesh. He
offered it to Kirin, grinning. “Shark. Care to try some?”
“No,
thank you. It’s bad enough I’m wearing his tooth.”
“Kitten.”
As he chewed, Kerris waved an arm towards the bend. “Now, here’s where you get
to prove why you get your own office in the Palace. Just past that rise, the
road takes two paths, one steep and narrow, the other broader, less severe.
Come, I’ll show you...”
Together,
the horses jogged forward between the rocky bend. The mountain rising before
them was massive, as impressive as
Kathandu
or
Purnannah
and its high
snowy peak was hidden in cloud. Kirin gritted his teeth. It looked impossible
to overcome.
“Ah
yes, but it’s not what you’re thinking,” said his brother.
“Sha’Hadin
is
on the other side. Still a bugger to get to, however. And see there? There’s
the low path. Takes you round for a bit of a dip, then a slow, gradual ascent
from the base. It’s as well used as you’ll find ‘round here and there’s an inn
about halfway up to the monastery. Great ale on tap. Don’t touch the sakeh.
It’ll blow your boots off.”
“And
the high path?’
He
followed Kerris’ finger with narrowed eyes, to a small snowy mound by the main
road. He could barely make it out.
“Starts right there. It’s only wide
enough for one horse, and not always then. Very steep, very nasty. Prone to
avalanches and mudslides. Rock falls. Bandits. You get the picture.”
“And the time?”
“Now,
here’s the thing. If all goes well, the high path can shave two, maybe three
hours off your travels. If all goes poorly, well you’ll probably be dead so
time becomes rather less of a problem.”
They
could hear the scrambling of hooves and the blowing of winded horses as the
rest of the party scrambled up behind them. He was not even tempted to ask
Kerris’ opinion - he knew exactly which path his brother would take. And had he
been alone, or in the company of soldiers without a pair of valuable civilians,
he might have done the same. His eyes studied the mountain, its defiant rise,
its sheer walls and glacial plateaus. It was folly and Kirin Wynegarde-Grey was
no man’s fool.
He
felt Ursa move in beside him.
“Major, you will take two guards
and make your way by the narrow path. It should get you to
Sha’Hadin
in
five hours. Let them know we are on our way and offer them any help they may
require. Kerris will accompany you. He has some familiarity with the trails.”
“We
should kill him and follow the pony,” she suggested. Kerris laughed.
“The
rest of us will travel the low route. It’s longer, but safer, and I have no
wish to compromise the success of our journey for the sake of a few hours.”
“Understood,
sir.”
“And
Major...”
“Sir?”
“Do
not kill him.”
She
steeled her jaw, disappointed.
Jabbing
her finger at the two foremost leopards, Ursa Laenskaya whirled her horse, making
a point of heading out first. The guards fell in at her heels and soon, the
three were fading into dark and distant specks, throwing up clouds of dust in
their wake.
“She wants to marry me. She wants
to bear my children.” Kerris looked up at his brother. “It’s admirable, isn’t
it? Really, it is.”
And
within seconds, he too was little more than yet another dark and distant speck,
quickly eating up the dust and closing in on the Major like wildfire.
For
a brief moment, there was no sound but the wind. Kirin glanced around at the
faces behind him - six inscrutable, one wide-eyed and eager, the last anything
but. Eight faces, all waiting, each looking to him for the order to move out.
He cleared his throat and gave it.
***
It had been an early start this
morning in the Throne Room of the Empress, and Chancellor Ho stifled a yawn.
It
may have started early,
he mused darkly,
but start it had.
There
were scores of people in the room now, from white-robed attendants to musicians
playing calming tunes on flute and koto. There were two other Chancellors
waiting to see her, of Roads and of the Imperial Stable. They would have to
wait now. He knew they would not be pleased.
It
seemed that lately none of them were.
He approached her royal form as she
stood lighting a stick of incense in a high window. She did not turn as he
stepped in at her side.
“They will stop this,” she said
softly.
“Yes,
Excellency. I am quite certain they will.”
“But
then again, they may not.”
“True again, Excellency.”
“And
perhaps you will have your wish after all.”
“None
of this is my wish, Excellency. Petrus has been a long time friend.”
Her
breath was a fan as she blew across the tip of the stick. It glowed orange,
raising fingers of smoke into the morning air. She laid it in the bowl and
turned to regard him.
“What
do
you wish,
Chancellor?”
“Naiamus
Ivanoff Terrence Satinder from
Calca’thah
awaits presentation,
Excellency.”
“I
have not forgotten, Chancellor. I will consider no man until this matter is
resolved.”
“But Excellency, all is prepared.”
“My
council is dying.”
“But your people are not,
Excellency. They are expecting a New Year’s festival. Are we to make them bear
the burden of our affairs?”
He lowered his eyes respectfully,
but his heart was pounding in his throat. He could be killed for such
insolence. He steeled his lush white jaw.
“And our young Captain has gone to
such lengths for the mounted drills.”
The Empress’ black tailed lashed
once and all breathing in the Throne Room ceased. She swung toward him and
leaned in close, her voice no more than a whisper.
“You think I am a koi, Chancellor,
swimming to the top of the pool at the dip of your finger. Very well. I will
see Naiamus Ivanoff Terrence Satinder of
Calcah’thah
presented. I will
be entertained by the ceremonies, the fireworks and the mounted drills. I will
do as you advise. As always, my will is yours. But my soul will be elsewhere.
And my heart...”
She
froze, golden eyes gleaming, not knowing whether to be angry with the
Chancellor for his insight, or terrified with herself for her blasphemy.
“My
heart, like my soul, will be with my Seers,
both
of them, Chancellor, in
the mountains of
Sha’Hadin.”
With
that, she straightened and turned back to the incense, allowing breathing to
resume with that small gesture.
***
It was several hours before they
came to the first signs of people. In fact, the Captain had found it odd that,
despite its remoteness and isolation, there had been absolutely no indication
that the road they were traveling was little more than a wild mountain path,
used by goats, yaks or other feral creatures. But when the leopard in the fore
swiveled in his saddle, Kirin knew something was ahead. He prodded alMassay
forward.