OrbSoul (Book 6) (3 page)

   Then
came a terrible sound. Something inhuman, a deep-throated sound from somewhere hidden within the dark. It fell somewhere between a growl and a roar, and curdled the blood.

   Kol and his men were at the entrance to the arcade now, Pader a few steps behind. A loud bang from across the chamber made Pader start, but he could see nothing. Kol reached up and took a flambeau from its wall-bracket and tossed it into the dark. It arced fluttering through the darkness and came to rest on the bare floor midway along the arcade. As it did something moved - a shadow? Or did it possess form and substance? It was gone almost before it was seen, vanishing into the gulf behind a statue.

   Kol edged forward and peered warily around the angle of the wall, into the arcade. One of his men took the other corner and did likewise. At that moment there was a sudden movement. A shadow grew; a monstrous form shot out from behind the nearest column and charged at them.

   Pader Luminis drew back several steps in horror. His men yelled out their alarm. It was a mottled grey-brown shape materializing out of the gloom, eight feet tall, massively muscled and surprisingly fleet. Long arms
raised, hefting a cudgel: a gigantic thing, fangs bared, half-armoured, a bestial snarl escaping from somewhere low in its throat.

   The beast leapt at the nearest soldier, swinging its great cudgel to crush the poor man's head against the wall with a sickening sound. The soldier sank limply to the ground, his blood smearing the wall. Kol and the others leapt to the attack. Their swords chewed into the creature's thick flesh. The troll howled, grasped one of its assailants, lifted him and hurled him far into the dark arcade, then turned upon another. Its limbs and trunk were a mass of bloody wounds, but it would not die. It raised both its arms high and brought them down. To Pader's horror he saw the
terrible blow land full upon Kol's head. Kol folded and crumpled to the floor and lay still.

   Pader was unarmed. He backed away as the troll-thing burst free of the two remaining guards and charged him. Out of the depths of his terror a series of words came unbidden into his mind. Only half aware of what he did, he intoned the words and made a small movement with his fingers. A host of brightly-coloured, gemlike winged-insects appeared instantly between Pader and the troll. Luminous in the corridor's semi-dark they clustered in a dazzling cloud. The troll pulled up, swatting stupidly at the immaterial things as they swarmed about its head.

   Pader Luminis staggered away. The two guards leapt at the troll from behind. Pader was aware of footsteps at his back; a squad of Palace Guards ran towards him along the corridor. They raced past to join battle with the confounded troll. Their sergeant paused, grasped Pader's arm to pull him away. 'Are you all right, Lord Protector?'

   Pader managed to nod. More guards came and fell in around him. The troll stamped and roared and heaved its cudgel one way and the other. At least two more men fell, but the beast's wounds multiplied and at last it sagged to its knees, and a final mortal blow sent it toppling to the flags.

   Breathing hard, Pader pushed down the corridor to where Kol lay spreadeagled upon the floor. Kol was utterly still, blood coming from his mouth and nose. Pader put his hand to his brow. He was vaguely aware of shouts coming from another part of the building. He turned dazedly to the sergeant. 'What is happening?'

   'They are in the palace, wreaking carnage,' the soldier replied.

   'How?'

   'They can only have been carried here by a third wave of slooths.'

   Pader shook his head in consternation. 'How many?'

   'We don't know. Lord Protector, I must get you away from here.'

   Pader nodded. He gave orders for Kol and the others to be urgently attended to, then allowed himself to be escorted back along the corridor.

iv

   Twelve in all. That is, twelve were located and eventually slain. They had been transported into the palace precincts and set free to roam the night at will, wreaking carnage wherever they passed. And they had performed their tasks to daunting effect. Their Karai master would be well-pleased. Thirty eight Palace Guards were dead, another nineteen injured; in addition there were numerous casualties among the household staff and courtiers, ranging from the mauled and brutalized to the purely terror-stricken.

   And if a mere dozen can cause such havoc, thought Pader despondently, what will fifty do?
Or a hundred? How many of these monsters does Anzejarl command?

   How had the slooths penetrated Orbia's defences to land the trolls? It was not difficult, everyone acknowledged that. If the winged demons possessed good night-vision - and plainly they did - there were many gaps between the wires, nets, meshes and ropes, through which they might slip. It had been known from the beginning that the hurriedly-erected defences could not cover the entire city-castle,
nor even all of Orbia Palace, and would do little to deter a concerted attack.

   It was little comfort that a pair of slooths had been brought down and slain by Palace Guards as they struggled to land their cargo. Two, under these circumstances, only highlighted the ineffectiveness of the defences.

   More than ever a feeling of helplessness descended upon Pader. It was agonizingly compounded by the loss of Mawnie, and the near-death of Kol. He could not help but feel that the responsibility for both misfortunes was solely his. In the chill winter breeze of early-morning he stepped with a heavy heart out onto the high battlements of Enchantment's Reach and directed his gaze away across the vast low forest. The forest, rust-brown and yellow, and in places almost bare of leaf, was ruffled by the scurrying passage of the breezes. In the furthest distance the mountains of Enchantment were largely obscured by sombre mist, but here and there a shimmering snow-capped peak or humped spur or ridge would show itself briefly, before the veil closed again.

  
Issul, Leth, where are you?

   Pader gazed down to the
Karai host gathered so far below.

  
What defence have we?

   The wind whipped his gown. Pader felt old and tired. He ached in his bones, and in his soul. He thought of Mawnie, poor Mawnie. He grasped the battlements with shaking hands and let the tears flow freely down his cheeks.

   Thoughts of Mawnie returned to him as the morning progressed. He dwelt upon her last days, her tragic pleas and utterances. Had they been anything more than empty ravings? It was so hard to know. Her emotional state had been such that she had for some time been steeped in morbid regret and self-pity. Her loneliness, her sterile, troubled marriage, the loss of her twin, Ressa - still bringing her such melancholy and grief even four years on. Perhaps it was inevitable that Mawnie would collapse. They should have foreseen it.

   But what was it that she had repeated over and over again in her ravings?
'It was me he wanted. In the woods. It was me!'

   Pader recalled that she had summoned Leth one day recently, when she was at least semi-lucid. By Leth's report she had told him that the vile creature that had attacked her and Ressa on that terrible day on Sentinel's Peak, had spoken to her. It claimed it had come from
Enchantment, that it was going to destroy all of them. And Mawnie had cried to Leth that, because of what had happened there, she should not live any longer.

   A chill thought struck Pader Luminis:
had Mawnie taken her own life?
He would make further enquiries, discover whether it was possible that she could have concealed a dagger somewhere close by.

   Then he wondered
, did Lord Fectur know that the Legendary Child was the spawn of that vile monster, and that it had come from Ressa's womb? As far as Pader was aware, he did not. But if Fectur had gleaned anything from Mawnie . . .

   He relaxed. No, not even Mawnie knew of the birth.

   But Fectur's agents had encountered Issul. Pader squeezed shut his eyes. Could they possibly have found a means of making Issul tell what she knew? The thought was unbearable. If they had, then Pader could be sure that she no longer lived.

  
But no. Fectur would have revealed something, in his attitude, his manner, his poise. Something. If he knew.

   Or would he?
The master of deceit?

   Could Radius have told him anything? Radius had admitted to overhearing at least part of a conversation between Pader and King Leth in Pader's apartment in the White Eaglet's Tower. The boy said he had told Fectur something of the content of the conversation, but that he had understood very little and - overcome with guilt - had not listened to all of it, anyway.

   Pader's memory of events was imprecise, with so much occupying his mind. But he recalled that he and Leth had spoken more than once in his apartment in the days preceding Leth's overthrow and disappearance. They had talked in some depth of the True Sept's mysterious creed, the possible origins of its beliefs, and . . . yes, at least once they had touched upon the subject of Ressa's having possibly borne the Legendary Child.

   Much of their conversation would certainly have passed over Radius's head, for he was not a boy of great brain. On the other hand . . . Pader groaned. Fectur might know far more than they would wish.

   He would have to speak to Radius again.

   Pader felt such anger at the boy. Foolish! Irresponsible! He passed an unsteady hand across his eyes. So much dreadful, interminable intrigue! So much senseless conflict!

   His thoughts led him to Mawnie again, and it struck him just then that he had not seen anything of Lir, Mawnie's infant daughter, in the Duchess's apartment. Was she in the care of her governess, or a nurse? Had she been told about her mother's death? Perhaps she was still asleep in her own cot.

   Pader summoned an aide and dispatched him with some urgency to check upon Lir's well-being. He was haunted by the terrible thought that Lir might have suffered the same fate as her mother.

   But why? What could lie behind it?

   And it was then that Pader was hit by a notion that made him sit suddenly bolt upright. His mind sped and spun. He half rose from his seat, and found he could move no more but was paralyzed in horrified disbelief. He thought again, over and over, of everything that Mawnie had been
witnessed to utter in her delirium, everything that had been reported to him. And he recalled Issul's account of that terrible day on Sentinel's Peak, and the awful events that had followed, their full nature kept secret from all. It was on that fateful day that the world of Enchantment's Reach had been pitched unknowingly into the madness and conflict that embroiled it now. And Pader, cold in the clutch of sudden fierce and profound shock, shook his head from side to side, desperate to dismiss the notion that had thrust itself so forcefully into his mind. It was madness; he was becoming unhinged. It was impossible.

   But the thought refused to leave him. And for long minutes he remained as he was, rigid, floundering in the turmoil within. And when, subsequently, he learned that little Lir could not be found
, he began to understand that his worst fears might now have been confirmed.

*

   Later in the morning Pader Luminis was visited by Lord Fectur. With some surprise Pader noted the Lord High Invigilate's discomposure. Fectur was gaunt and pale. Dark rings encircled his eyes. His grey hair was neither bound nor combed, and angry red blotches coloured the skin of his forehead and cheek. His lips were tightly compressed and downturned at the corners. He confronted Pader with a hard and icy glare. 'Lord Protector,' Fectur began, laying heavy irony on the second word, 'it seems we continue to be assailed and do nothing to defend ourselves.'

   'We have defended ourselves, my lord, as you are most surely aware,' replied Pader evenly. 'The cost has been high, admittedly, but never have we imagined that withstanding this assault would be a simple task.'

   'Our enemy mocks us, it seems to me.'

   'Perhaps. But who, precisely, is our enemy? For you must know that we have been struck from within, as well as without.'

   'You refer to the Duchess?'

   'I do.'

   'Aye, it is an evil affair. My people are investigating.'

   'As are mine,' said Pader, barely able to contain his emotions. 'Who, I wonder, will turn up the true culprit?'

   Fectur glowered. Pader went on, 'How could such a monstrous crime have been committed, my lord? Right here, within the Palace.
Right under your nose.'

   Fectur's eyes narrowed to become barely more than slits. 'As I said, I have yet to discover.'

   'The suspects cannot be many, my lord. For surely, as Master of Security, you must have been aware at all times of all persons who came and went from her chambers?'

   'That is so,' Fectur replied sourly, grinding his teeth. 'But the crime occurred during a momentary lapse, a brief moment when the Duchess Demawndella - in blatant violation of my instructions - was left alone. The felon knew precisely when to make his - or her - move. But be assured, the murderer will be apprehended and will pay the price, as will any staff members found guilty of dereliction.'