Vagrants: Book 2 Circles of Light series (32 page)

Kwanzi placed a tray
loaded with hot meat pastries, cheese, fruit and bread on the table
before the Speaker of Segra. He glanced briefly at Lashek’s bulging
waistline and grinned.

‘I will bring some tea
then leave you to your talk.’

Thryssa observed the
amazingly rapid disappearance of the food and sipped patiently at
her mug of spice tea. When Lashek sat back with a sigh of
satisfaction, she asked:

‘To what do these
scraps of information refer then Lashek?’

Lashek unlatched his
satchel. ‘Several things, none to do with that object that we were
actually looking for though. Look, I have copied them – the
originals are nearly too fragile to be touched at all.’

He passed a sheaf of
parchments across the desk. Thryssa frowned as she studied the
topmost parchment.

‘A map?’ she queried.
‘This is how the original looks?’

‘Yes, a map with
writing all over it and then more writing at a later
date.’

Lashek waved his hand
and took another bread roll. ‘I have put my attempts at
decipherment on the next pages.’

Thryssa continued to
frown over the first page. ‘It would seem to be a map of these
lands but the writing is so strange – is it really our own
language?’

‘It is indeed. I have
several similar examples, dealing with botany, so I had worked out
the lettering before. Years ago,’ he added. ‘In my youthful
training days. It is a mixture of pictograms and letters. I believe
it must be from the earliest times when writing was in its very
infancy.’

Thryssa turned to the
next pages where Lashek had copied the strangely formed characters
and written his interpretation beneath. Her sudden intake of breath
made Lashek beam again.

‘When do you believe
this was written Lashek, and by whom?’

‘I would guess – and it
is only a guess at this point – that it was written at least
fifteen hundred cycles past. I would again guess, that it is a
record saved when the city was destroyed.’

Thryssa turned back to
the map then stared across at Lashek.

‘But to whom does this
writing refer? It mentions “the others” several times, but who
could they mean? How confident are you of your accuracy in
deciphering this script Lashek?’

Lashek’s eyebrows rose
but he only shrugged.

‘I am sure I have the
true meaning of the writings if not exact word by word
translation,’ he said.

‘But these “others”.
Could it mean the Silver Dragons? The strangers had not arrived in
this world when you say you think this was written so it could not
be them.’ Thryssa spoke her thoughts aloud as she continued to
study the pages spread on the table before her.

‘Look.’ Lashek reached
for an apple and drew a small dagger from his belt. With the tip of
the blade he scored the peel in a rough copy of the map’s outline
on one side of the fruit. He held it up towards Thryssa.

‘Our lands – Sapphrea,
the Wilderness, the Southlands and the Ice Realm, yes?’ He pointed
to his apple map as he spoke.

Thryssa
nodded.

Suddenly Lashek pushed
the blade straight through the centre of the map until its tip
emerged at the other side of the apple. Thryssa stared at him in
incomprehension.

‘The Balance Thryssa.
All things must balance to remain in harmony. So, here is our great
land set with long mountain ranges, plains, and rivers, bound in
the north by the Ice Realm which no one has ever traversed, in the
south by the fever-ridden swamps.’

Thryssa nodded as
Lashek paused.

‘To east and west are
the Bitter Seas which, again, no one has ever travelled. But I had
come to believe even before this document came to my notice, there
is another land on the other side of our world. And that would
perfectly balance this land of ours Thryssa. I am assuming that
humans must live in that land and they are the ones our long ago
ancestors call the Others in these writings.’

The door opened even as
a perfunctory knock sounded on the wood. A maid bobbed nervously in
Thryssa’s direction.

‘The master says to go
quickly to the guest room my lady.’

Thryssa jumped to her
feet. ‘Oh stars! Elyssa must be ill! Come Lashek, we may need your
help!’

Lashek struggled up a
curving flight of stairs, puffing in Thryssa’s wake. He regained
some breath as he followed along a corridor and then in the door
through which Thryssa had vanished. The room was bright with the
early morning sun. Thin white curtains wafted gracefully from the
open window opposite the bed. A girl sat in the bed, her fair hair
tumbled around her shoulders.

Lashek vaguely
recognised her as being in training with Thryssa’s staff. The
silence warned him as he moved to stand beside Kwanzi at the foot
of the bed and the girl glanced from Thryssa towards
himself.

‘But what is the
matter?’ The girl asked nervously. ‘Why do you look at me
so?’

As Thryssa and Kwanzi
seemed speechless, Lashek moved closer. He sat on the edge of the
bed which sank alarmingly under his bulk. He smiled and took the
girl’s nearest hand.

‘Why nothing dreadful
my dear. Elyssa is your name is it not? And mine is Lashek. You
know that impudent young nephew of mine perhaps? Imshish? I am sure
he must have come calling on such a pretty girl as you.’

Elyssa blushed faintly
but visibly relaxed as Lashek stroked her hand and rumbled on about
Imshish meeting his match in her. When she finally laughed at
Lashek’s gentle teasing, he nodded.

‘Tell me my dear, did
you dream last night?’

Elyssa frowned. ‘Yes I
did, but it was very odd.’

‘In what manner was it
“odd” my dear? Funny, frightening, strange?’

‘Oh no not frightening
– the opposite rather. There was just this deep, deep darkness with
red flashes. They did seem in some way threatening but then they
were smothered, blocked away, by the most beautiful silver threads.
They were like the finest of cobwebs, or snowflakes.’

Lashek nodded calmly
again then leaned forward and kissed Elyssa’s forehead.

‘I sense a great
weariness still in you. You should sleep again.’ He waved at
Thryssa. ‘Even the High Speaker worries over you child so sleep the
morning away. We will visit again next time you wake.’

Even as he spoke, he
used power to relax Elyssa further and cause her eyelids to droop.
She snuggled back against the pillows and yawned, forcing her eyes
open to focus on Thryssa.

‘Thank you for letting
me stay my lady.’

Thryssa still remained
silent as Elyssa’s lids finally closed over her silvered
eyes.

Kwanzi drew the door
closed softly behind them and the three made their way back in the
direction of Thryssa’s study.

‘But what is it Lashek?
What has happened to the poor child’s eyes?’

Lashek patted Thryssa’s
shoulder although a frown had replaced the jovial expression he’d
worn for Elyssa.

‘Once before I have
seen this – when I was a child my cousin awoke one morning with his
eyes changed.’

‘And?’ Kwanzi
demanded.

‘He was quite insane.
He died soon afterwards.’

Kwanzi and Thryssa both
stopped in their tracks, turning horrified faces to Lashek. He
shook his head at them reprovingly.

‘This girl is older
than my cousin. She is clearly talented and strong. And she was no
more mad just then than you or I, now was she?’

‘But what is it? Did no
one find out why your cousin’s eyes changed so?’

‘No.’ Lashek said
regretfully. ‘It was all kept rather quiet – no one likes madness
in their family. I will see if there is any record of it though.’
He laughed quietly. ‘One thing after another of late, is it
not?’

He reached to open the
study door and the building trembled. It was as though the entire
Corvida just – quivered slightly. They were still staring at each
other in confusion when a distracted maid flew round the
corner.

‘If you please my lady,
there’s someone in the Chamber of Harmony,’ she squeaked, and fled
back the way she’d come.

‘Now what?’ Thryssa
growled and strode on along the passageway.

Kwanzi rushed to get
ahead of her and blocked the doorway.

‘Do not be foolish
Kwanzi. Open the door and let me pass.’

Lashek nodded and
Kwanzi opened the door but stepped through still in front of
Thryssa.

The Chimes hung
motionless in their corner, but on the inlaid mosaic circle lay two
bodies. Lashek murmured something and Kwanzi left the room at a
run.

‘Guards and healers my
dear.’ Lashek shrugged at Thryssa’s questioning look. ‘Either might
be useful right now.’

Booted feet could be
heard approaching along the outer corridor as the two figures
slumped on the circle began to stir. The smaller one pushed itself
up to its knees, blonde hair spilling over the edge of the dark
blue cloak. The head came up groggily and round blue eyes stared at
Thryssa, Kwanzi and Lashek.

Lashek moved forward,
bending to help the small figure upright. A girl, wearing trousers
and a sword he had time to notice, before she jerked away and
staggered to the other figure. The blue eyes, filling with tears,
turned back to Lashek.

‘Oh please sir, help my
lady!’

Thryssa joined Lashek
as he gently turned over the second figure. A long thin beautiful
face was revealed as the cloak was pulled aside and dark lashes
fluttered faintly against the pale cheeks. Lashek beckoned to the
two healers who had arrived behind the six guards.

‘Who are you child?’
Thryssa asked softly, putting her arm around the blonde girl’s
shoulders.

‘My name is Shan and
this is the Golden Lady of Gaharn, my mistress Lady Emla. Oh
please, make sure she is unharmed!’

Chapter
Twenty-Two

In the power-wrought
tower south east of the town of Return, Rhaki lay. He was still
incapacitated by the enormous effort he had expended in the
building of his tower. Work continued on the adjoining buildings
under Serim’s watchful eye.

Serim was becoming
concerned over his master’s protracted weakness. He had expected
him to sleep long and deeply, as he had, but Serim was perturbed by
Rahki’s lingering exhaustion. Rhaki had scarcely the strength to
raise a cup to his own lips and despite Serim’s application of
balms and salves, Rhaki’s skin still cracked and flaked at each
movement.

Serim knew that Rhaki
was conscious more frequently in spite of the fact that he lay so
motionless, eyes firmly closed, and he guessed that his master was
trying to heal himself from within. When Serim attended him, Rhaki
would open his eyes and attempt a smile. He observed that his
master’s eyes were growing more bloodshot rather than less, but he
put that fact down to the tremendous physical and mental strain
Rhaki had been under in the final stages of constructing his
tower.

Rhaki was by now in
command of his mind again, and he knew the exact state of his
surroundings. He was aware of workmen, masons and carpenters, who
worked on the annex below. He had begun to widen the channel worn
by the spring which led from beneath where he lay to the cave a
rough five hundred paces away.

Each time Rhaki truly
slept, he fell into a deep darkness which was increasingly filled
with threads of flashing red, and he felt a warmth and comfort such
as he had never experienced. He knew instinctively that this
redness could only help him, as the red worm of rage – so like
these flashes – had helped him before.

He was also aware of
Serim’s constant presence within the tower, which gave him cause
for some amusement. He had not the strength yet to take in the
details of Serim’s past but he recognised that this odd little man
was his devoted follower, committed totally to his service. The
reasons for this single-mindedness could wait until Rhaki had
recovered further. Meanwhile Serim guarded Rhaki’s time of mending
and Rhaki felt completely secure with such a watchdog protecting
him.

North of Return, Hargon
and his armsmen were riding down through the forested slopes from
the hunting lodge. The sunny brightness of the early morning had
given way to a dullness made worse by the crowding fir trees. They
were still a league or so from the way station when the first fat
raindrops fell through the branches. Hargon booted his konina to a
faster pace, despite the steepness of the track. His elder son
Bannor rode slightly behind him and Navan was yet further behind
with his younger son Bartos.

Hargon’s head ached. He
was having to think rather harder, faster, and on more complicated
issues than he had ever done before. The slave girl Chena, now
called Lady Tika if you please! And called so by a Lord of Gaharn!
This business of speaking in someone’s mind still smacked
suspiciously of magic to him. And the Great Dragons! Never had
Hargon seen one so close, where he could see their physical power
only too well. Yet they were polite and quite peaceable, and they
too spoke with respect to his runaway slave. Hargon rubbed his
forehead and peered ahead for the way station. The rain was falling
harder now, the iciness of the drops reminding him that the cold
season was scarcely finished with yet.