In the Earth Abides the Flame (3 page)

Phemanderac found the travellers standing heedless on the Vitulian Way, the main road through the city from the Inna Gate. Leith introduced him to the Company, and his first counsel to them was to save their questions until after they found the relative safety of a narrow alley. There they hid, while all around them guards clamoured in the open streets; but whether it was the general confusion or the Company's nondescript grey garb, they were not apprehended. Then, as the sun set, the guards were relieved and the search ceased.

In the mournful twilight the Company went out from the Inna Gate to claim the body. Why no one had thought to post a guard by the still form of Parlevaag, against the chance the Company might reclaim her, none of them could say. Perhaps the guardsmen had not yet connected Leith with the disturbance at the Gate, though surely the injured guard would have known. Whatever the reason, the northerners were grateful.

Most travellers simply passed by Parlevaag, ignoring the sight, though some gathered like carrion-beasts around the still form, speculating on the explanation for such a repugnant act within the shadow of their impregnable city. 'It's those uncivilised people from Deuverre,' said one. 'Can't trust them as comes from the north,' added another. 'Animals they are, got no learnin' at all.' The spectators scattered as the Company approached. No one interfered when, after the fashion of the Fenni, they gathered sticks and dry grasses to make Parlevaag a pyre.

Perdu withdrew the Widuz sword from her body and cast it into the river. Then tenderly, with reverence, they whispered their last goodbyes and set fire to the sacred mound. Driven by the sea breeze, smoke from the pyre mingled with that from the cook-fires of fishermen and itinerants, casting a pall over Longbridge.

'The vultures gather on the city wall,' Kurr muttered to Farr as the flames reluctantly began their solemn task.

'Let them look,' came his reply. 'Their presence does not dishonour her. She was worth more than any of them.'

'I'll never understand why no one came to help.'

'Such cowardice makes me ashamed to be Falthan,' Farr said, bitterness in his voice.

Phemanderac grunted his agreement. 'These "people,"' - he made the word sound like an insult

- 'claim to be direct descendants of the House of Landam. Furist, the Arkhos of Landam, was as valiant a man as they are craven.'

'Will we have any success in a city such as this has become?' the old farmer asked, doubt in his voice, as though in Parlevaag's death he read the death of their quest. 'Where are the Watchers?'

Farr turned to Kurr. 'My friend, you know more than I; but perhaps none of us knows very much. The fighting is over, and now the diplomacy begins. I must take a back seat and remain silent. If only Wira were still alive! His skill with words in tight places would serve the Company well.'

The remaining Storrsen sighed. 'If the diplomacy does not go well, all I can hope for is to die in battle against the Bhrudwans as honourably as did my brother.'

Kurr did not reply. Instead he began to mutter to himself, loud enough for Leith at least to overhear him. 'Why now? Why not when I was young and could wield a sword? Why now, when I am old and weak?' With a heavy sigh the old farmer turned and reentered the city upon which all their hopes, rested, and the others followed behind him.

That evening the Company met Foilzie. After she heard their tale of the disaster outside the gate, she insisted the Company stay at her house, and offered them the refurbished rooms above the basement. 'Don't pay me no money,' she said, over their protestations. 'Can't have you sleeping on the streets. The least I can do, since no one else in this city lifted a finger to help. Anyway, there's a curfew on, so you won't be allowed out after dark to look for somewhere else to stay.'

'A curfew?' questioned the old farmer. 'What is happening?' 'Escaigne is up to its old tricks,'

Foilzie said, as though that answered the question. She appeared not to notice, or to ignore, the quizzical looks her answer produced. If they had not been so exhausted the Company might have pursued the matter; but weeks afoot, days of flight and sudden sorrow proved too much for them, and they found their beds early.

The last of the northerners did not arise before noon the next day. After the midday meal they gathered in the basement to discuss their predicament. There Leith formally introduced Phemanderac to the group; and Leith explained in detail the tall man's role in their escape from Adunlok, a story which garnered the philosopher much praise from Mahnum and Indrett.

'I saw you!' the Trader said, face alight. 'On the southern flank of Clovenchine you stood, and I thought you the enemy. I owe you thanks. Your playing of that instrument in the caverns below Adunlok saved my life.' He pointed to the harp sitting across Phemanderac's shoulders, then explained how the unearthly sound distracted the champion of Widuz. 'I would dearly love to hear you play it again.'

Phemanderac smiled, and his absurdly long face lit up with a strange intensity. 'Come with me this afternoon to the market,' he said. 'There I play the harp for the people; they gather to listen and I earn a little money.'

'Enough to find better accommodation?' Stella asked. Her bed had been uncomfortable, lumpy and bug-ridden.

'We could certainly find more comfortable accommodation,' Phemanderac acknowledged, 'but we're unlikely to discover another landlady like Foilzie.'

'Anyway,' Perdu interrupted, 'we may need the money for something more important than accommodation.' He looked squarely at the tall philosopher. 'Assuming, of course, that you're with us, and agree to use your wealth for the cause of the Company.'

'Perhaps the Company, and its quest, are things we need to talk about.' Phemanderac rose from a low couch and began to pace up and down the room. 'I have many questions for you all.'

Kurr stood up in his turn. 'Can we trust you with the answers?'

'Trust me? What would I do with them that could damage you or your cause?'

'Sell them to the Instruians, for one thing.' Kurr's voice took on an unexpectedly truculent note. 'I'm sure the city guards would like to know a little more about us. I don't like traitors.'

Phemanderac strode over to the old farmer, heat in his eyes. 'This is advice only. That kind of talk will get you nowhere in this town. I spent three months here only last year, trying to get permis-sion to view the archives in the Hall of Lore. The bureaucracy here is difficult to circumvent and impossible to hurry. You will have one chance only at the Iron Door. Talk like that will make enemies of your friends and render your task fruitless.'

Leith tugged at a loose thread on his sleeve while he spoke. 'I told Phemanderac everything.

He is our friend! Kroptur said that we should discover friends in unlikely places. There aren't many more unlikely places than the Widuz fortress.' His voice pleaded with them for understanding.

'And Kroptur also warned us we would meet people who seemed friendly but would hinder our cause,' came the farmer's angry reply. 'You were unwise to talk of our mission to anyone.

There are few people we can trust!'

Leith's face reddened, and he sat down.

Phemanderac seemed untroubled by the harsh words. 'In my

opinion, a man who saves one of your Company from the pit of the Widuz, then delivers him safely to you and asks nothing in return, is a man worthy of trust. But no matter: the milk is out of the jug.

What Leith says is true. I know about your quest. You seek to warn Faltha of the imminent Bhrudwan invasion, and have captured a Bhrudwan warrior to aid your cause. Where is he, by the way?'

Kurr said nothing, his lips a thin white line. The Acolyte was in fact held, trussed up, in one of the tenement's rooms, the door locked and barred, his bonds checked regularly. The old farmer most definitely did not feel safe around the Bhrudwan warrior, and the worry of keeping him safely restrained continued to eat away at him. They had concealed the nature of their captive from Foilzie, but it was undoubtedly only a matter of time before the Instruian woman discovered what manner of man was housed within her lodgings.

Phemanderac shrugged his shoulders. 'I can help you,' he said, 'that is, if you want help. And, believe me, you'll need it. It takes a great deal of money - and persistence - to see the Council of Faltha. Once there, you will need someone to present your argument skilfully and concisely. Remember, you only get one chance.'

'So what do you offer us?' Kurr said shortly. Leifh could see and hear the old farmer's anger, but could think of no good reason for it. Perhaps something about Phemanderac's overweening self-confidence ruffled him.

The philosopher seemed unaware of the antagonism. 'Money, lodgings, advice, a persuasive voice before the Council - and a number of other things of which I will not tell you yet, but are perhaps more valuable than anything else I have.'

Hal stood, his movements jerky, and manoeuvred himself to the centre of the room. All eyes turned to him. 'Do you see bribery as the best approach to the Council of Faltha?' he asked the philosopher.

Leith groaned, and buried his face in his hands.

'The best approach? It is the only approach. Without money they will not acknowledge your existence, let alone receive your suit. There are any number of minor officials who need to be paid off- in increasingly large amounts - before the Council will grant you an audience.'

'Doesn't that bother you?' Hal stared up into Phemanderac's eyes well past the point of politeness. Leith could not help being reminded of his brother's confrontation with the Hermit.

Back then, Hal had seemed so certain his way was the right way, and now appeared to be readying himself for another stubborn argument.

'Bother me? No. Should it?'

'I think it should. We are all forgetting the justice of our cause. We seek nothing for ourselves.

Rather, we desire an audience with the Falthan Council because we have something to give them: time to prepare against the coming invasion. How could this threaten the Council? Why should they not see us? I think we should make it known we have information of great importance to them. Curiosity may do what money cannot.'

Mahnum spoke, disapproval clear in his voice. 'I counsel caution in approaching the Council of Faltha. Son, I told you the Voice on Andratan gloated over those Falthans he had suborned to his service. He gave me names, he showed me faces, faces I will never forget.' He paused, taking a deep breath. 'The Voice told me some of his agents have infiltrated even the Council of Faltha. He was quite explicit about it. Do you not think there is a risk that if we state our mission directly those corrupt members of the Council will hear of it, and simply advise the others not to see us?'

'Then they will reveal their true colours,' Hal said. 'Truth is more powerful than deception!

Deceit wins many battles, but the fruits of its victories evaporate along with the lies it tells.

Truth may suffer many defeats, but the victories it wins are permanent. We must tell the truth.'

'The truth can be used against us,' Mahnum countered. 'Let me spell it out for you. The Council has sixteen members, one from each of the kingdoms of Faltha. Five countries -

Sarista, Deuverre, Sna Vaztha, Haurn and Deruys - have loyal kings and their representatives on the Council follow that loyalty. We know that Haurn is a vassal state of Sna Vaztha, but the vote still counts separately on the Council. Another four of the kings have betrayed us to the Bhrudwans, but their ambassadors to the Council are still true. These are Plonya, Asgowan, Redana'a and Piskasia. The kings of Treika, Favony and Nemohaim are loyal to Faltha, or at least opposed to Bhrudwo, but their ambassadors are traitors. And four kingdoms - Vertensia, Straux, Tabul and our beloved Firanes - are betrayed by both king and councillor.

'This means there are eight of the Sixteen Kingdoms with traitors for monarchs. Faltha is in a perilous position.

'But the situation of the Council is not so desperate, though it might have become so by now, as it is over a year since I heard the Voice. Nine of the Councillors are loyal and seven are traitors. So, as long as things have remained the same, we should have the numbers to win the Council. Hal, if we tell official after official that Faltha is in imminent danger of invasion, we will eventually encounter one who is in the pay of the enemy, or who is willing to sell the information to them. Then we will be barred from seeing the Council at all, or we will ourselves be betrayed when we get there. Let us be wise with the truth.'

'Even if we are betrayed, we should tell the truth and not resort to bribery,' Hal insisted.

'Victory will come in the end.'

'Refreshingly direct,' Phemanderac commented, 'but do you have the time to suffer the defeats until this supposed victory comes? I warn you, it may only take one defeat to render your task impossible.' He continued pacing, as though possessed of vigour enough to fight the Bhrudwans right then. 'Can we speak more frankly?' he said. 'I too have a task, a mission I seek to complete, and to do so I need to open my heart to you. Shall we talk openly of our plans? Then, if you will not receive my help, I will walk away from you after promising never to tell anyone about your mission. I will swear an oath! But if I can convince you that I'm trustworthy, I would ask that you consider permitting me to join the Company.'

Kurr looked around the room. He read tiredness in the faces of his charges, and he realised that this was not the best time to deal with important issues. What they all needed was rest or diversion, something to help them get over the weariness and shock they still felt. The tall stranger seemed to have more energy than the rest of them combined.

'We must talk about these things,' the old farmer said, hoping his instinct was right, 'but not now, not today. We're simply too exhausted to make good decisions. Tomorrow morning we'll give Phemanderac the chance to explain himself, and he will hear all he wants to know. Until then, I would advise you all to seek sleep, or at least rest.

'We have much still to do,' he continued. 'I, for one, will begin searching for signs of my order. Somewhere in this forsaken city the Watchers must live, and unless they have completely abandoned their calling, they will be actively opposing any traitors against Faltha. Once I discover them, we may find that access to the Council of Faltha becomes much easier.'