Above the Snowline (6 page)
‘She came in over the Skein Gate,’ Jant said.
San smiled. Wrinkles spread from the corners of his eyes, around his cheeks to the corners of his mouth. They intensified, vanished as fast as breath on a glass. ‘Did she really? This sounds like Raven Rachiswater’s settlement.’
‘Yes, my lord. Most likely his manor house.’
‘Dellin, I thank you for coming to the Castle,’ the Emperor said, then he addressed the court in Awian. ‘The king did not seek my advice before colonising Carnich. His new manor is in Darkling, on Dellin’s hunting ground. Kings may act as they please, but it is the Castle’s duty to protect the Fourlands and maintain peace between its peoples. Beside the blue column of Awia there is a silver column for Darkling.’ He raised a hand to indicate the four columns in the niche behind the throne; one each to symbolise a country of the Fourlands.
‘Darkling is one of the Fourlands in its own right,’ he continued,
‘and the Rhydanne are the people of Darkling. However, the mountain range is mostly unpopulated and there has never been a formal boundary between it and the other lands as there is, say, between Awia and the Plainslands.’
He turned to Dellin. ‘Tarmigan and Raven Rachiswater consider Carnich to be part of Awia. This incident must be resolved to the satisfaction of all: either Rhydanne and Awians must find a way to live comfortably side by side, or Raven must offer you acceptable compensation. Comet?’
Jant translated and then said, ‘Yes, my lord?’
‘You will accompany Dellin back to Carniss and speak with Governor Raven. Speak also to the Rhydanne and discover their opinions. If no simple solution presents itself, return and report to me.’
‘Yes, my lord.’ Jant swelled with pride. He had not had such an important assignment before; he was only a young Eszai, the most recent to join us, only seventy years ago. In Awian he said, ‘Rhydanne are nomads. If she’s famished, I don’t understand why she just doesn’t walk away from Carnich.’
‘Her husband was killed, Comet.’
Jant stepped back a little to address us all. Now he was an authority on the subject, it seemed. ‘She isn’t like any other Rhydanne I’ve ever met. The others would just roam off and find food somewhere else.’
He was holding his wings half-spread, an impressive effect, but I think he was consciously trying to distance himself from Dellin, and standing in an attentive but supplicant attitude as Awian as he could make it.
The Emperor appraised him. ‘Consider Dellin an ambassador and see her safely to Carnich.’
‘My lord . . . she can’t speak for other Rhydanne. She’s only concerned with herself - as all Rhydanne are. Her complaint was very personal.’
‘She says they are starving to death. Such a grievance cannot be disregarded.’
Jant brought his wings forward and hugged his body with them; stood completely enclosed in black plumes with the strong limbs crossed over his chest. The sharp tips of his flight feathers brushed the floor. As you and I know well, he never overlooked an opportunity to pose.
San said, ‘Find her rooms in the Herst Building and offer her the hospitality of the Castle.’
‘I would prefer to entertain her in my rooms.’
‘Would you? That is very irregular.’
‘My lord, every visitor finds the Castle overwhelming. How much more so will a Rhydanne who has just run in from the Darkling wastes?’
‘Very well,’ the Emperor conceded.
Dellin was listening intently but could not keep still. She stalked up and down, exploring the area before the throne and between the front benches on either side. She never turned her back on the Emperor - silver-haired San in his white robes with a collar of colourless jewels seemed to eminently satisfy her expectations of the ‘silver man’. Her wary stance drew many whispered comments from the audience, but I thought it to be a show of respect in Rhydanne terms. She knew San was a man of prowess and therefore a possible danger to herself. She knew he was beneficent; she knew he would help and, as far as she could tell, he had existed for ever. No wonder she was anxious.
She inspected the wax-encrusted torchères, their braided stems, cabriole legs, and claw-and-ball feet, amused to see eagle talons rendered in gold. She poked her fingers into the deep carvings on the poppyheads of the bench ends, ebony inlaid with mother-of-pearl. She moved with the delicacy of a cat, more gracefully than a cat, more like a puma, over as far as the door to the Emperor’s private room and back to the dais.
She wrinkled her nose at the frankincense smoke rising from the censer on the lowest dais step, and waved her hand through its stream. She tentatively touched the ring on the conical lid, flicked it open and peered at the coals inside. Then she actually sat down on the step beside it and unfastened the bone toggle of her jacket’s deep pocket. I heard twelve bows bend as the archers drew on her, but instead of a weapon she took out a strip of what seemed to be dried meat and chewed it, clacking it on her back teeth.
Jant regarded her antics smugly, though his little, cat-with-the-cream smile wasn’t as relaxed as usual. He said a word to her. She darted to him and cheerfully offered him the strip that glistened with her saliva, but he pushed her hand away. He showed her how to bow and she copied it with natural grace - standing side by side, they looked like identical puppets. Then she raced ahead of him as they walked out.
I took my leave of the Emperor and followed them past immortals and mortals, all turning their heads as Dellin passed. The whole hall trailed out behind me, leaving the Emperor alone on his throne. Well, a pure Rhydanne had never been seen in the Castle before and few people had seen a Rhydanne at all. Very occasionally individuals do travel down from the mountains and may be found anywhere in the Fourlands, but the occurrence is so rare that I have only seen a pure Rhydanne once before and I am nearly fourteen hundred years old. She was telling fortunes in a fair and, compared to petite Dellin, had been tall and rather mannish.
I caught up with Jant and Dellin at the door, where the guard was returning her spear. She snatched it back, and took her rucksack and knife with righteous annoyance.
‘What do you think of that?’ said Jant. ‘The Emperor speaking Scree?’
I said, ‘There are more dangerous pitfalls here than for you to worry about the Emperor’s linguistic skills.’
‘He spoke it accurately and well, but some words weren’t quite right, as if the pronunciation had drifted. Some of his phrases were unusual too, things Rhydanne wouldn’t quite say these days.’ He jammed a thumb in his belt and we walked out of the dim narthex and down the steps. ‘How long ago did he visit Darkling? Two thousand years? Maybe when god was still in the world!’
I shrugged. Unlike Jant, I see no point in febrile questioning. ‘I am not surprised. If San intended to be adviser to the world, he would want to live for a while in each of its four corners.’
‘Imagine him sitting in a tent, eating goat stew . . . regaling Rhydanne with words they think are wise.’
‘I find that wisdom is universal, Jant. It transcends era and language. ’
The path through the Starglass Quadrangle, the only entrance to the Throne Room, is paved with the marble gravestones of former immortals who have died in their role - serving the Castle - rather than those who have lost a Challenge and been displaced to become mortal again. Those who died in battle are buried here, as a place of honour for all eternity. Each tombstone is a different colour of marble, and each has the name and heraldic device of the immortal engraved and gilt in the same style. They form a wide path running down the prime meridian of the Fourlands, with the flint cobbles on either side. I had known every one of them, I had been present when each was initiated into the Circle, and I remember every one of them hoping that his immortality would be for ever.
Behind us, Tornado shouted, ‘Wait!’ The crowd parted at the sight of him hurrying towards us. Dellin was crouching and stroking with admiration the deep etching on Lir Serein’s grave. When Tornado loomed over her she cried out in shock. She snarled at the Castle’s Strongman, over two metres tall and proven to be the strongest warrior in the world - at least for eight hundred years, but probably for all time. He dwarfed me and I am not small. He had more muscle in one arm than Jant had in his entire body. He beamed down upon Dellin, radiating amusement and approval so strongly that she recovered, and smiled back.
‘Well done, girl,’ he said. ‘I’ve never seen a performance like that in front of the Emperor.’
‘If she knew we’re immortal, she’d be more impressed,’ said Jant.
‘Rubbish. She’s a fighter, anyone can see. So the Emperor’s sending you to Darkling, is he?’
‘To Carniss, yes.’
‘Well, I’d give my axe hand to come with you. How about it?’
‘Certainly not,’ said Jant.
‘Why not? I’d like to see her in her real surroundings, maybe come across more like her. I’ve never seen Darkling.’
‘Because,’ said Jant, nettled, ‘this is my first real assignment. Seventy years doing Messenger’s errands, flying letters round the Fourlands till I’m bored sick, and you older Eszai always take the plum jobs. This is my chance to show I can do more than struggle with the Black Coach. San will give me better missions after this, the sort that you hog. So you’re not taking over!’
‘Didn’t want to. I want to come with you, climb some mountains, that sort of thing.’
‘You’d slow me down. Don’t you know it’s freezing up there? And you’ll hardly be able to breathe at the altitude where she feels at home.’
‘Excellent,’ said Tornado, scratching his shaved head. ‘A real challenge!’
‘Good for fitness,’ I said.
‘Just what I was thinking, Saker.’
‘No!’ said Jant. ‘I hardly want to return to Darkling myself, let alone take every Plainslander and Awian inside these eight walls. Anyway, you two can’t possibly get any fitter.’
Tornado laughed. We continued through the quadrangle, which is full of instruments astronomical, horological and meteorological, the world’s most modern and ingenious, which the Castle collects here. They surround the great gold Starglass like courtiers around a king. The servants uncovering their awnings and taking readings from the Starglass paused to watch Dellin. She gave them not a glance, but ran to inspect the gleaming brass of an orrery taller than a man. Dew had beaded on its rings and a servant was wiping the ivory model of the Castle itself, at its very centre. Around it, two agate orbs representing the planets, an opal moon and a topaz sun, were fixed on embellished rings and pivots. The servant threw the lever for her, and they began to spin in an accurate simulation. Dellin stepped back, gripped her spear and watched them defiantly.
Jant sniggered. ‘Look at her. More metal than she’s seen in her whole life before.’
‘Don’t they have metal in the mountains?’ asked Tornado.
‘Yes, if they only knew how to mine it.’
‘Tell me what Darkling’s like,’ he said eagerly.
‘Unbelievable. The mountains soar fifteen hundred metres high. You can see all the way to the western ocean. There are creatures there like nothing else in the world, denizens that make even me jittery: white wolves with dripping fangs and eyes like the Summerday lighthouses . . .’
‘What, three of them?’
‘At least. Ah, Darkling, the land of elk and bunnies. There’s a race of wild men with antlers growing from their foreheads, which spread wider than arms and weigh so much that old men have to walk around with their heads bowed and their antlers dragging on the ground. There are sucker deer - the bottoms of their hooves are concave and soft and act like sucker cups, so they can climb vertical, smooth rock faces and stand upside down on the underside of overhangs.’
‘Wow,’ said Tornado. ‘I’m going! Take your crossbow and bring one back to show us.’
‘Certainly,’ said Jant, seriously. ‘But you haven’t heard anything yet. There are hundreds of creatures that Dellin takes for granted which you’re unfortunately going to miss. There are mountain seals.’
‘
Mountain
seals?’
Mountain
seals?’
‘Of course. Left over from before the mountains started growing, when they were on a level with the sea. As you know,’ he proclaimed, finding his pace, ‘mountain seals live on diametrically opposed peaks. As they have flippers they can’t climb, obviously, so when they need food they drag themselves to the lip of the ledge and teeter for a few seconds before sledging down, faster and faster; god, they reach tremendous speeds . . . They snatch what food they can on the way, and have enough momentum to toboggan up the mountain on the other side. They reach a ledge and stop there in readiness for sliding back.’
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