CHAPTER 17

Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Danae of Elenia, sat pensively on an out-of-the-way window-seat on one of the upper floors of her mother’s castle. The weather outside was unsettled, and a blustery wind skipped the dead leaves across the lawns below like scurrying brown mice. Danae absently stroked her purring cat as she considered options, alternatives, and possibilities. Mirtai, grim, implacable, and wearing an Atan breastplate of polished steel and black leather, stood several yards down the corridor, her face set in an expression of sullen obedience and her hand on her sword-hilt.

‘You’re still angry with me, aren’t you?’ Danae asked the golden giantess, not even bothering to turn around.

‘It’s not my place to either approve or disapprove of my owner.’ Mirtai was being stubborn about it.

‘Oh, stop that. Come here.’ Mirtai marched up the hall to where her capricious little owner was sitting.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m going to try again. Please listen to me this time.’

‘As your Majesty commands.’

‘That’s getting very tiresome, you know. We love you, Mirtai.’

‘Is your Majesty speaking in the royal plural?’

‘You’re starting to make me cross. I’ve got a name, and you know what it is. We all love you, and it would have broken our hearts if you’d decided to kill yourself. I spoke to you the way I did to bring you to your senses, you ninny.’

‘I know why you did it, Danae, but did you have to humiliate me in front of the others?’

‘I apologize.’

‘You can’t do that. You’re a queen, and queens can’t apologize.’

‘I can if I want.’ Danae paused. ‘So there,’ she added. Mirtai laughed and suddenly embraced the little girl.

‘You’re never going to learn how to be a queen, Danae.’

‘Oh, I don’t know. Being the queen just means that you get what you want. I do that all the time anyway.

I don’t need a crown or an army for something as simple as that.’

‘You’re a very spoiled little girl, your Majesty.’

‘I know, and I love every minute of it.’ Then the Princess heard a faint, far-away murmur, a murmur that

Mirtai could not, of course, even sense.

‘Why don’t you go find Melidere?’ she suggested.

She sighed and rolled her eyes upward. ‘I’m sure she’s looking for me anyway. It’s probably time for another one of those girl lessons.’

‘She’s giving you instruction in courtly manners and traditional courtesies, Danae,’ Mirtai reproved her. ‘if you’re going to be a queen, you’ll need to know those things.’

‘I think it’s silly, myself. Go on ahead, Mirtai. I’ll be along in a minute.’

The giantess went off down the hall, and Princess Danae spoke very quietly. ‘What is it, Setras?’ she asked her cousin.

‘You already know the courtesies, Aphrael,’ her curly-haired cousin said, appearing suddenly beside her.

‘Why are you taking lessons?’

‘It gives Melidere something to occupy her mind and keeps her out of mischief. I spent a great deal of time and effort getting her and Stragen together. I don’t want her to spoil it by getting bored and starting to look for outside entertainment.’

‘That’s very important to you, isn’t it?’ Setras sounded a little puzzled. ‘Why should the things they do to perpetuate themselves interest you at all?’

‘You probably wouldn’t understand, Setras. You’re too young.’

‘I’m as old as you are.

‘Yes, but you don’t pay any attention to what your worshippers are doing when they’re alone together.’

‘I know what they’re doing. It’s ridiculous.’

‘They seem to like it.’

“Flowers are much more dignified about it,’ he sniffed.

‘Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?’

‘Oh, I almost forgot. I have a message for you. There’s an Alcione Knight - one of the ones who serve me. I think you know him. He’s a moon-faced fellow named Tynian.’

‘Yes.’

‘He went back to Chyrellos to pick up some help, and it seems that he inadvertently chose every Pandion skilled enough to pass messages on to you and brought them all to this part of the world, so there wasn’t anybody with the Church Knights to tell you what happened in Zemoch.’

‘Yes, I already know about that. Anakha’s going to talk with Tynian about that. What happened in Zemoch?’ ‘The Church Knights had an encounter with Klael. A third of them were killed.’

Aphrael unleashed a blistering string of curses.

‘Aphrael!’ he gasped. ‘You’re not supposed to talk that way.’

‘Oh, go bury it, Setras! Why didn’t you tell me about this as soon as you got here?’

‘I was curious about the other thing,’ he confessed. ‘It’s not as if they all got killed, Aphrael. There are still plenty of them left. In a little while there’ll be as many as before. They’re ferociously prolific.’

‘I love them all, you dolt. I don’t want to lose any of them.’

‘You’re greedy. That’s one of your shortcomings, cousin. You can’t keep all of them, you know.’

‘Don’t make any wagers on that, Setras. I’m only just getting started.’ She threw her hands in the air. ‘This is impossible. you don’t even understand the message you’re trying to give me. Where are the Church Knights now?’

‘They’re coming across the steppes of Central Astel to invade Cynesga. They’ll probably run into Klael again when they get there. I hope they don’t all get killed.’

‘Who’s in command?’

‘One of Romalic’s servants - an old man called Abriel - was in charge when they left Chyrellos, but he got killed in Zemoch, so one of the high priests of the Church of the Elene God - a Thalesian named Bergsten - is giving orders now.’

‘I should have guessed,’ she said. ‘I have a few things to take care of first. Then I’ll go find Bergsten and get a true account of what happened.’

‘I was only trying to help.’ Setras sounded a little injured.

‘You did just fine, cousin,’ Aphrael forgave him. ‘It’s not your fault that you haven’t been keeping abreast

of things here.’

‘I have important things on my mind, Aphrael,’ he said defensively. ‘Come by my studio some time,’ he added brightly. I made a sunset the other day that’s probably one of the best pieces I’ve ever done. It’s so lovely that I’ve decided to keep it.’

‘Setras. you can’t just stop the sun that way!’

‘There’s nobody living there, Aphrael. They won’t notice.’

‘Oh, dear!’ She buried her face in her hands.

‘You’re disappointed in me, aren’t you?’ His lower lip trembled slightly, and his large, luminous eyes filled with sudden tears. ‘And I try so hard to make you and the others proud of me. ’

‘No, Setras,’ she said. ‘I still love you.’

He brightened. ‘Everything’s all right then, isn’t it?’ ’

‘You’re a dear, Setras.’ She kissed him. ‘Run along now. I have to talk with these others.’

‘You will come and look at my sunset, won’t you?’

‘Of course, cousin. Go along now.’ She lifted her drowsing cat and blew into the furry creature’s ear.

‘Wake up, Mmrr,’ she said.

The yellow eyes opened.

‘Go back to the place where we nest,’ the little Princess said, speaking in cat. ‘I have to do something.’

She set Mmrr down on the floor, and the cat arched her back, hooking her tail into a sinuous question-mark, and yawned. Then she padded off down the corridor. Danae looked around, probing with eyes and mind to make sure she was alone. There were human males knocking around in the halls of this castle, and the appearance of a naked Goddess always excited them. It was flattering, of course, but it was also a little confusing for a being with a total lack of any reproductive urges. No matter how hard she tried, Aphrael had never been able to understand how the mating impulse of human males could be so indiscriminate. The Child Goddess briefly resumed her true person and then divided, becoming both little girls.

‘You’re starting to get older, Danae,’ Flute noted.

‘Does it show? Already?’

‘It’s noticeable. You still have a way to go before you’re fully mature, though. Are you really sure you want to go through with this?’

‘It might help us all to understand them a little better. I don’t think Setras even knows that it takes a male and a female to well, you know.’ Danae blushed.

‘Setras isn’t overly bright. Can I borrow Mirtai?’ Flute asked.

‘What for?’

‘You don’t really need her here, and after what happened in Dirgis, I’d like to have somebody I trust to stand guard over Sephrenia.’

‘Good idea. Let’s go talk with Sarabian and the others. They’ll be able to send messengers to people we don’t have any contacts with.’

Flute nodded. ‘It would be so much more convenient if they were all ours.’

Danae laughed. ‘I think Setras was right. We are greedy, aren’t we?’

‘We love them all, Danae. I don’t see any reason why they can’t love us.’

The two little girls started off down the corridor hand in hand.

‘Danae,’ Flute said, ‘do you think Mirtai might be afraid of heights?’

‘He does look a lot like that picture Talen drew, doesn’t he?’ Tynian murmured to Ulath.

‘Very close,’ Ulath agreed. ‘That boy has a tremendous talent.’

‘Yes. He draws well, too.’ Ulath laughed shortly. Then he looked at the men clustered around Parok and drew Tynian a little further away from them. ‘Parok’s giving all the orders,’ he whispered, ‘but the Arjuni in the flamboyant doublet speaks for King Rakya.’

‘Sarabian’s going to be very put out with the King of Arjuna.’ Ulath nodded. ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised to see a new king on the throne before long.’

‘What exactly did Parok say about Natayos? You couldn’t have mistaken his meaning, could you?’ ‘Not a chance, Tynian. Just before he got into the argument with Duke Milanis, Parok said that Scarpa wanted to move his army out of Natayos before they gave Sparhawk the last note. I almost started cheering when he said that they were going to tell Sparhawk to go to Natayos for the exchange.’

‘We’ll have to be careful, though. They could be holding Ehlana someplace else. They may not take her to Natayos until the last minute.’ ‘We’ll find out for sure once Xanetia goes there,’ Ulath shrugged.

The door to the book-lined room opened, and a liveried servant hurried in. ‘An important message has arrived from Natayos, Baron,’ he told Parok. ‘The messenger rode his horse half to death.’

‘Horses are cheap. Send the fellow in.’

‘I could learn to dislike that man,’ Tynian murmured.

‘I already do,’ Ulath replied. He looked up speculatively.

‘We’re sort of invisible, aren’t we?’ he asked.

‘That’s what Ghnomb says.’

‘Can you imagine the expression Parok would get on his face if he suddenly got ripped up the front with an invisible knife?’

‘Slowly,’ Tynian added. ‘Very, very slowly.’

The messenger from Natayos was a shabbily dressed Dacite, and he was reeling with exhaustion as he staggered into the room. ‘Baron,’ he gasped. ‘Thank God I found you.’

‘Speak up, man!’

‘Could I have a drink of water?’

‘Talk first. Then you can drink anything you want.’

‘Lord Scarpa ordered me to tell you that the man you’ve been watching isn’t Sparhawk.’

‘I see that Scarpa’s finally gone completely mad.’

‘No, Baron. Zalasta confirmed it. Somebody they call Klael went and had a look at this man you’ve been giving the notes to. They seemed to think you’d know who this Klael fellow is. Anyway, he sent word that the man with the broken nose looks like Sparhawk, but it’s not really him. This Klael must have some way to know for sure.’

Parok began to swear sulphurously.

‘That tears it,’ Tynian growled. ‘I’ll pass this on to Aphrael. We’d better get Berit and Khalad to safety.’

‘Did Scarpa kill Sparhawk’s wife?’ Baron Parok asked the messenger.

‘No, my Lord Baron. He was going to, but Zalasta stopped him. I’m supposed to tell you not to do anything to let the imposter know that we’re on to him. Zalasta needs some time to move the prisoners to someplace that’s safe. He wants you to continue as if nothing had happened. After he has those two women clear, he’ll get word to you that it’s all right to kill the man who’s posing as Sparhawk.’

‘Zalasta’s in full command then?’

‘Yes, Baron Parok. Lord Scarpa’s a bit - ah - distraught, I suppose you might say.’

‘You might say crazy, too. That’d be more accurate.’ Parok started to pace the floor. ‘I wondered how much it would take to push Scarpa over the edge,’ he muttered. ‘It’s probably better this way anyhow.

Zalasta’s a Styric, but at least his head’s on straight. Go back and tell him that I’ve received his message and that I won’t do anything to upset his plans. Let him know that I have no real fondness for Scarpa and that I’ll be completely loyal to him. ’

‘I will, my Lord Baron.’

Duke Milanis rose and crossed the room to close the window.

‘What in God’s name is that awful smell?’ he exclaimed.

Tynian turned and saw the hulking Troll standing just behind them. ‘Bhlokw,’ he said, ‘it is not good that you come into the dens of the manthings this way.’

‘I was sent by Khwaj, Tin-in,’ Bhlokw explained. ‘Khwaj grows tired of waiting. He wants to burn the wicked ones always.’ Then their dim half-moment suddenly filled with smoke, and the enormous presence of the Fire-God was there.

‘Your hunt takes too long, Ulath-from-Thalesia. Have you found any of the wicked ones yet? If you have, point out which one it is. I will make it burn forever.’

Tynian and Ulath exchanged a long look. Then Tynian grinned wolfishly. ‘Let’s,’ he said.

‘Why don’t we?’ Ulath agreed. He looked at the flickering God of Fire. ‘Our hunt has been successful, Khwaj,’ he declared. ‘We have found one of the ones who stole Anakha’s mate. You can make it burn forever now.’ He paused. ‘There are others we also hunt, though,’ he added. ‘We do not want to frighten them away so that they will be harder to hunt. Can Ghnomb put the one we have found into No-Time?

You can burn it always there. When it burns in No-Time, the others of its herd will not smell the smoke or hear the crying out with hurt, and so they will not run away.’

‘Your thought is good, Ulath-from-Thalesia,’ Khwaj agreed. ‘I will talk with Ghnomb about this. He will make it so that the one who burns always burns in the time which does not move. which one of these should I burn?’

‘That one,’ Ulath replied, pointing at Baron Parok.

Duke Milanis was turning from the window when he suddenly stopped, becoming a statue in mid-stride.

Baron Parok continued his restless pacing. ‘We’re going to have to start taking extra precautions,’ he said, not yet realizing that the’ men around him were no longer moving. Then he turned and almost bumped into the exhausted messenger from

Natayos. ‘Get out of my way, idiot!’ he snapped.

The man did not move. ‘I told you to take a message to Zalasta, ‘ Parok raged. ‘Why are you still here?’

He struck the messenger across the face and cried out in pain as his hand hit something harder than stone.

He looked around wildly. ‘What’s the matter with all of you?’ he demanded in a shrill voice.

‘What did it say?’ Khwaj’s voice was dreadful.

Parok gaped at the vast Troll-God, shrieked, and ran for the door.

‘It does not understand that it is now in No-Time,’ Ulath replied in Trollish.

‘It should know why it is being punished,’ Khwaj decided. ‘will it understand if you talk to it in the bird-noises of the manthings?’

‘I’ll make it understand,’ Ulath promised.

‘It is good that you will. Speak to it.’

Parok was hammering futilely on the immovable door.

‘That won’t do you any good, old boy,’ Ulath urbanely advised the terrified Dacite nobleman. ‘Things have definitely taken a turn for the worse for you, Baron. This large fellow with the smoke coming out of his ears is the Troll-God Khwaj. He disapproves of your abduction of Queen Ehlana.’

‘Who are you?’ Parok half-screamed. ‘What’s going on here?’

‘You’ve been brought to the palace of punishment, Baron,’ Tynian advised him. ‘As my friend here just explained, Khwaj is quite put out with you. Trolls are a very moralistic sort. Things that we’ve come to take in stride - abductions, poisonings, and holding people for ransom - upset them enormously. There is a small advantage, though. You’re going to live forever, Baron. You’ll never, ever die.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You’ll see.’

‘Does it understand now?’ Khwaj demanded impatiently.

‘It is our thought that it does,’ Ulath replied in Trollish.

‘Good.’ Khwaj implacably advanced on the cringing Dacite, extending one vast paw. Then he clapped it down on top of Parok’s head. ‘Burn!’ he growled.

Baron Parok shrieked. Then his face seemed to split, and incandescent fire came spurting out through his skin. His doublet smoked for an instant and then flashed into ashes. He shrieked again. His form was still the form of a man, but it was a form etched in flame. The Baron burned, unconsumed, and he danced and howled in agony. Khwaj struck the immovable door with one huge paw, and the door burst outward in flaming chunks.

‘Go!’ he roared. ‘Run. Run forever, and burn always!’

The flaming Dacite fled shrieking. The town of Arjun stood frozen in that eternal instant of perpetual now.

The citizens, like statues, stood frozen stock-still, unaware of the burning wraith that ran through their

silent streets. They did not hear its agonized screams. They did not see it flee toward the lake-shore.

Baron Parok, all ablaze, ran, trailing greasy smoke. He reached the docks and fled in flames out a long pier stretching into the dark waters of the Sea of Arjun. He did not pause when he reached the end of the pier, but plunged off, yearning toward the quenching water. But, like the moment itself, the surface of the lake was unyielding and as hard as diamond. The wraith of flame howled in frustration, kneeling on the glittering surface and hammering on it, pleading to be let in, begging to drown in the blessed coolness just beyond reach. Then Parok leaped to his feet, driven by the Troll-God’s awful command. Shrieking still in agony and unutterable loneliness, the man-shape of eternal flame ran out across the dark crystal surface, receding incandescent until it was no more than a single bright spark far out on the night-darkened lake.

And its lost wail of pain and endless solitude came echoing back to the incurious shore.

‘I wish Sparhawk would find his way home again,’ Talen muttered as he and Stragen once again climbed the rickety stairs to the loft. ‘We’ve got some fairly important information, and there’s no way to pass it on to the others.’

‘There’s nothing we can do about it right now,’ Stragen told him. ‘Let’s see how Valash reacts to this story you cooked up. Keep it sort of vague until we see which way he jumps.’

‘And then will you teach me how to pick a pocket?’ Talen asked with overly-feigned enthusiasm.

‘All right,’ Stragen sighed. ‘I apologize. I’ll concede that you know what you’re doing.’

‘Oh, thank you, Vymer!’ Talen gushed. ‘Thank you, thank you!’

‘You’ve been spending too much time with Princess Danae,’ Stragen muttered sourly. ‘I hope she does marry you. You deserve it.’

‘Bite your tongue, Stragen. I can still run faster than she can.’

‘Running doesn’t always help, Reldin. I thought I could run, too, but Melidere cut my legs out from under me with a single word.’

‘Oh? Which word was that?’

‘Profit, my young friend. She waved unlimited amounts of gold in front of my face.’

‘You sold out, Stragen,’ Talen accused. ‘You betrayed every bachelor in the world for money.’

‘Wouldn’t you have? We’re not talking about a few farthings here. ’

‘It’s the principle of the thing,’ Talen replied loftily. ‘I wouldn’t sell out for money.’

‘I don’t think it’ll be money that Danae’s going to offer you, my innocent young friend. If you start running right now, you might escape, but I sort of doubt it. I knew your father, and there’s a certain weakness in your family. Danae’s going to get you, Talen. You don’t have a chance.’

‘Could we talk about something else? This is a very distressing sort of subject.’

Stragen laughed, and they went through the patched door at the top of the stairs.

Valash sat in the faint light of his single candle listening with a look of pained resignation on his face as Ogerajin babbled and drooled a long, strung-out series of disconnected phrases.

‘He doesn’t seem to be getting any better,’ Stragen observed quietly when he and Talen joined the two at the table.

‘He won’t get better, Vymer,’ Valash sighed. ‘I’ve seen this particular disease run its course before. Don’t get too close to him. He’s virulently infectious at this stage.’

‘I certainly wouldn’t want to catch what he’s got,’ Talen shuddered.

‘Do you have something for me?’ Valash asked.

‘I’m not going to swear to this, Master Valash,’ Talen said cautiously. ‘The fellows I picked it up from weren’t any too reliable. You might want to pass it on to Panem-Doa, though. It concerns them rather directly, so they might want to take a few extra precautions.’

‘Go on,’ Valash said.

‘Well, I overheard a couple of Arjuni soldiers talking in a tavern down by the waterfront - real Arjuni soldiers, I mean not the ones Lord Scarpa’s recruited. They were talking about some orders that just came in from the capital at Arjuna. From what I was able to gather, they’ve been ordered to prepare for an extended campaign out in the jungle. They think they’re going to be mounting an attack on Lord

Scarpa’s camp at Panem-Doa.’

‘Impossible!’ Valash snorted.

‘They were saying that the orders came from King Rakya himself. The message had been sent to their officers, of course, so they probably garbled it, but they’re absolutely convinced that the Arjuni army’s going to attack Scarpa’s forces. I just thought you ought to know.’

‘Those soldiers were drunk, Reldin. King Rakya is our ally.’

‘Really? What an amazing thing. He ought to let his troops know about it, then. The two I was listening to were positively drooling about all the loot they thought they were going to carry out of Panem-Doa.’

‘The queen is coming to Panem-Doa,’ Ogerajin suddenly sang in a wheezy voice to the tune of an old nursery song, ‘the queen is coming to Panem-Doa.’ Then he began to cackle in a high pitched laugh.

A look of sudden chagrin crossed Valash’s face. ‘Calm yourself, Master Ogerajin,’ He said, giving Stragen and Talen a worried look. ‘The queen is coming to Panem-Doe riding in a carriage,’ Ogerajin sang in his cracked voice.

‘Don’t pay any attention to him,’ Valash said rather too quickly. ‘He’s only babbling.’

‘His mind really is slipping, isn’t it?’ Stragen noted.

‘Six white horses and silver wheels -‘ Ogerajin sang on.

‘Have you ever heard such gibberish?’ Valash asked with a weak laugh.

‘Our presence must be disturbing him,’ Stragen said. ‘Does he generally drift off to sleep later in the evening?’

‘Usually.’

‘Good. From now on, Reldin and I’ll come by after midnight when he’s asleep.’

‘I’d appreciate it, Vymer.’ Valash looked at them, his face still worried. ‘He wasn’t always like this, you know. It’s the disease.’

‘I’m sure of it. He’s probably not even aware of what he’s saying.’

‘Exactly, exactly. He’s completely out of his head. Why don’t you two just forget his crazy singing?’

Valash snatched his purse from his belt and dug out several coins. ‘Here. Come by again after he’s gone to sleep.’

The two thieves bowed and quietly left.

‘Nervous, wasn’t he?’ Talen said as they went back down the stairs.

‘You noticed. He even forgot himself and opened his purse.’

They reached the bottom of the stairs. ‘Where to!’ Talen asked.

‘No place for the moment. Keep this to yourself, Talen.’

‘Keep what?’

But Stragen was already speaking in sonorous Styric, weaving his fingers intricately in the air in front of him. Talen stared as Stragen opened his hands palm up and made a sort of tossing gesture rather like a man releasing a pigeon. his eyes became distant, and his lips moved silently for a time. Then he smiled.

‘Surprised her,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’

‘What’s going on here?’ Talen demanded.

‘I passed the things we just discovered along to Aphrael,’

Stragen shrugged.

‘When did you learn Styric magic?’ ‘It’s not really all that difficult, Talen,’ Stragen grinned. ‘I’ve seen Sparhawk do it often enough, and I do speak Styric, after all. The gestures were a little tricky, but Aphrael gave me some instructions. I’ll do it better next time.’

‘How did you know it would work?’

‘I didn’t. I thought it was time I gave it a try, though. Aphrael’s very pleased with me. ’

‘You do know that you just volunteered to serve her, don’t you? I know that much about her. You’re her slave now, Stragen. She’s got you.’

‘Oh, well.’ Stragen shrugged. ‘I suppose a man could do worse. Aphrael’s a thief herself, so I’m sure we’ll get along.’ He squared his shoulders. ‘Shall we go?’ he suggested.