Kingdoms of the Night (The Far Kingdoms) (16 page)

Two days after entering the river we saw our first real shock — we passed the fire-blackened ruins of a small city. I chanced asking Rapili what had happened. In a tone of complete indifference he told me the town had risen against King Gayyath and it’d been necessary to make an example of it. I forced my luck and asked for more details.

Rapili said, “Just another one of those damned peasant risings. Sooner or later they’ll learn to blame misfortune on the gods, not on our good King. If not...” He said no more.

Another
rising? And what were these misfortunes? Although Hebrus’ dispatches had always been guarded he
had
said Vacaan had been having troubles as severe as Orissa’s. But... Rapili was looking at me intently, so I just thanked him and after a few moments, found an excuse to go below.

I noted the people we passed, fishermen, laborers, merchants, weren’t nearly as contented as they’d once seemed. Some of them, when they saw the royal emblem on our sails, turned their backs or just stared, their faces blank, as if a cruel master was parading by.

One sound I heard less than before — laughter. The most common sound on this river had been the shrill laughter of happy children. Now it came infrequently and the expressions of the young ones we passed were stolid, like people who’ve known little joy but and to whom misery is a constant companion.

We wound our way through the kingdom, day by day, past city after city. There was no consistency to what we saw — some lands were fertile, green, some cities exploding with life. Other lands were dry, barren or barely fertile and the cities around them on hard times.

I hardly knew what to think and, quite frankly, was beginning to dread seeing what Irayas itself might look like. If that dream-city was changed, cut by time’s wounds... I could not let myself think that.

We came on it at dawn and the river channel, already nearly half a mile across, flared into a lake with a thousand green islands aglow as the sun’s fingers touched the city. It was still magic and the day’s fresh fires shot prisms of color through the towers of crystal and sent dazzling beams against my eyes from the golden domes. Now there was bird song and I thought I could hear music from around us as the many fountains shot plumes into the crisp air.

No. Irayas had not changed. In fact, it was even more splendid than my ten-years-gone memory said.

I looked at Quatervals. His hard, leathery hillman’s face showed the simple awe of a babe before he caught me looking at him and forced control. This was the first time he’d been to Vacaan.

“Well?”

Quatervals took a long time to think before saying, slowly, “There’s not many times you know you’re seein’ something that appears to have come from the gods, is there?”

Rapili, standing behind him, overheard, smiled tightly, and I could also read
his
thoughts — it was well the foreigners knew what they were seeing when they saw it. Of
course
there could be nothing in this world or any others to match the glory of Irayas.

Janela’s expression was unreadable. I moved close beside her and said, very softly, “And what is my lady thinking?”

She answered as quietly: “Just that no matter how you might believe you’ve shed your feelings for somewhere that was home, especially after it’s treated you... the way I was... you find out you’re wrong.”

I knew what she meant — no matter what evils Orissa had wreaked on the Anteros and there’d been many, I still felt that soar of delight when I came once more upon it.

But neither Irayas nor Orissa should be in our minds now. Our minds and eyes must be on the next step. I asked Rapili where we would moor.

“If you weren’t who you are and if we didn’t have orders from the Court you’d be sent to the Trader’s Port with the others. But you’re the personal guests of the King. Have your captain follow that boat there.” He waved at a gondola flying a large black and white striped flag. “
That’s
your pilot. I’ll take my leave now.”

The gondola pulled alongside and Rapili dropped his pack onto its deck and went after it, with never a word of thanks or farewell.

The boat led our three ships through the maze that was the canal system of Irayas. The city sprawled for miles, with some of the poorer sections on larger peninsulas or strands and the palaces of the nobility each on its own island or standing alone on pilings driven into the lake bottom. Irayas was laid out in elaborate disarray that was no more accidental than a path winding through a garden built by a master landscaper and I’d often wondered whether the islands had been magically built by the Old Ones. No one ever answered my queries, though.

Now I was wondering if Janela’s theory was correct and the Old Ones had retreated to the fabled Kingdoms Of The Night. With a chill, I considering what they might be like. And whether they were as far beyond the wizards of Irayas as they’d been of all western Evocators when Janos and I first came here.

It was probably an absurd thought, but I wondered what lay beyond gold and diamonds when gold was a simple transmutation and any stone could be given facets and sparkle with a few words of a similarity spell.

Kele thankfully broke my thoughts. “What’s this Traders’ Port that lunkhead spoke of? There wa’n’t anything like it last time we dropped our hook here.”

That was been no surprise — Hebrus had written to me about it several years earlier. It seemed King Grayyath had become disturbed his people were being corrupted by over-exposure to foreigners, even the few merchants allowed upriver beyond Marinduque, and so he’d ordered an island set aside with a deep enough anchorage for their ships, a compound for trading and luxurious villas for them to live in. All outsiders were confined to this area on pain of banishment or even execution.

I’d sent a carefully worded protest through Hebrus to King Gayyath, not only on behalf of all merchants but also because this was a return to Vacaan’s bad old ways when they huddled behind their magic and demonic protectors, reassuring each other they were the highest beings of creation and let their culture petrify. I’d never received answer and didn’t try again — it’d probably been unseemly for me to even think of advising another people on what they might be doing wrong, especially when I considered how blithely my own Orissa was walling itself up with complacency.

We entered a wide canal that went straight into a lagoon and I was pleased at this — even though our ships were intended for navigation on rivers as well as bluewater, they were nowhere near as handy as the gondolas and barges of Irayas.

We entered the lagoon and I started, not able to hold back the cry that left my lips. Ahead was the castle that would be our quarters — and it was the same castle I had occupied when first we came to Vacaan. Here it was I’d courted Omerye and for an instant the spires, gardens and turrets blurred to my eyes. It was here Janos had begun his betrayal and from here I’d been kidnapped to be tortured by Raveline’s henchman.

“Lord Antero?” Kele was beside me, her arm strong. I shook my head.

“Nothing. Just the sun.”

But I turned away from the castle and went to the taffrail, looking back while I regained composure.

Janela’s hand touched my shoulder. “This was the place?” She made no more elaboration. I nodded.

“Now,” she said, her voice hard, “is someone playing a cruel jest... or is he merely paying clumsy respect by showing his knowledge of your past?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nor do I. But if it’s the former... one thing that I inherited from my great grandfather was his long and perfect remembrance for evils done to him and those he loved... and his cunning at repaying that debt.”

I looked at her. For an instant, her hand touched the pommel of her dagger. Then she smiled. “But I think it is better, at least for now, to think we are being honored. Unless the memories would be too terrible?”

I began to answer, then stopped. “No,” I said. “Sometimes the echoes of the past, even though they can be harsh, can be comforting.” This was true.

Once more Janela looked at me strangely. “That, too,” she said, almost to herself, “is something that must be changed.”

The moment hung, untouched. I was the first to turn away.

“Captain Kele,” I said, formally. “We’ll moor at that long dock. And we might want to be leaving quickly. Pass the signal to the other ships, please.”

“Aye, sir,” and Kele’s voice became a bellow. “Turn out, watch below! We’ll have a breast and stern rope and springs to port. Shake a leg!”

* * * *

As I’d anticipated we stepped off our ships into silken luxury. There was enough room in the palace for an entire war fleet’s contingent, enough so each could have a private room. I was amused to find that most of them preferred to share their quarters with at least a friend or two. I’d expected some complaints when I ordered half of each ship’s company to be aboard their craft at all times, weapon racks unlocked and the watch alert, but there were none. Thanks to my company’s wide experience on foreign and not infrequently hostile shores, but all of us were in awe of actually being in what we considered the Far Kingdoms.

None of us, from myself to the
Firefly
’s cabin boy, wanted for anything. New clothes were given if ours were ragged, or else seamstresses were available if we’d rather have them mended. The kitchens were always open and anything a sailor could imagine would be produced by servants who were either blank-faced or smiling cheerily.

There was an even greater abundance of drink, but in this matter I sought the palace’s castelan, a cheerful gnome named Lienor, who hardly looked the spy for Gayyath I knew he must be and ordered all spirits locked up except for mealtimes and two hours after dinner. Sailors, no matter how dedicated and wary they are, will
never
turn away from a cask until it’s emptied.

Other needs were met, which I’d always assumed would happen. The people of Vacaan felt happiness could only come when
all
desires were fulfilled. So each chamber had one or more chambermaids and for the women among us there were serving lads who seemed to have no duties except what was requested of them.

Four women attended my own bedchamber, two very young and beautiful, two middle-aged and buxom, with the experienced smiles of women who knew how
real
pleasure could be given. I was polite to all four of them, but at my age hardly self-deceiving about my abilities and so I slept alone with Quatervals in the outer chamber. He disappeared for an hour with one of the older women, but after that remained as celibate as I, in spite of my urgings.

Janela was given her own wing on the other side of the mansion in quarters as luxurious as mine. If she had bed-companions I saw none.

Everything seemed placid on the surface, but as the days passed I grew worried.

Where was Hebrus?

* * * *

On the sixth day after our arrival Lienor requested Janela’s and my presence at the main entrance. Waiting there was another Wardens, this one in his middle years but just as hard and battle scarred as Rapili had been. Lienor announced him as Chares, head of all the Warders. I found it mildly amusing to see Lienor humble himself before the man, as if Chares was his master instead of me.

I asked Chares what his rank was so I could address him properly. Chares said, “We Wardens have no titles and our rank matters only amongst ourselves. We are all equals, all dedicated to the safety of Vacaan.”

I asked what service I might do him.

“I have come to take you to the King,” Chares said, a note of self-importance ringing in his tone. “He has granted you an audience.”

This surprised me — King Gayyath’s father, Domas, saw newcomers instantly and then let time pass while he considered his actions. I’d expected Gayyath to continue that same practice.

“That is good news,” I said. “I welcome seeing King Gayyath after such a long absence.”

“I also,” Chares continued on, “bear unfortunate tidings. Your factor Hebrus was slain a week ago.” By his voice he might as well have been announcing the midday meal would be a few minutes late.

That took me hard. When you reach my years it is uncertain how a death can affect you. By the time you reach my years you know more people in the graveyard than the street and so you ought to become accustomed to the event. This is sometimes true, sometimes false. Now, I felt tears fill my eyes. Hebrus had not only been a good man, but with his death so died the last part of my youth. Chares was staring at me and his look was unsympathetic. No doubt he thought me a weakling.

Janela gave me a gentle pat. I took three deep breaths and set the matter aside. Later, when we returned from the court, we would hold the proper Orissan ceremonies to his memory.

“How did he die?”

Chares appeared uncomfortable. “Perhaps,” he said, “we should step into another chamber to discuss that?”

I led Chares into a cloakroom. As I did, I saw a smirk on Lienor’s face, as if he was already privy to the matter and had found it a rare matter, indeed.

Without softening his tone, Chares said, “Your factor was murdered.”

“By whom?”

“We do not know yet.”

“Under what circumstances?” I demanded.

Again, Chares looked as if he might be embarrassed. “Lord Hebrus was in the habit of visiting certain areas, certain taverns, for his private amusement. The partners he chose were those noted for, to put it bluntly, their toughness and propensity for violence. Lord Hebrus chose the wrong man, or possibly men, because he was found in his bedchamber, beaten to death. His assailants had stolen what they could before noises woke Hebrus’ servants.