Domes of Fire (11 page)

‘Do I sense the possibility of a convert here?’ Ortzel asked her.

‘What you’re sensing is the possibility of failing health, Ortzel,’ she said bluntly. Mirtai never used titles when she spoke to people.

‘All right then,’ Ortzel laughed again and continued with his translation.

‘Hearken then, O men of Lamorkland, and hear how Starkad was paid. Some tears then shed he over his fallen brother, then turned he his raging wrath upon the Peloi, and they fled screaming from him. Straightway left he the strife-place and journeyed even to the Holy City of Chyrellos, there to advise the princes of the Church that their design was done. And when they had gathered all in the Basilica which is the crown of their o’erweening pride, recounted Starkad the sad tale of the fall of Drychtnath, mightiest hero of yore.

‘And gloated then the soft and pampered princes of the Church at the hero’s fall, thinking that their pride and power and position were safe, and spake they each in praise of Starkad and offered him good gold beyond measure for the deed he had done.

‘Cold, however, was the hero’s heart, and he looked upon the little men he had served, recalling with tears the great man he had slain at their bidding. “Lordlings of the Church,” quotha then. “Think ye that mere gold will satisfy me as payment for what I have done in your behalf?”

‘“But what else may we offer thee?” they asked in great perplexity.

‘“I would have Drychtnath’s forgiveness,” quoth Starkad.

‘“But that we may not obtain for thee,” they said unto him, “for dreaded Drychtnath lieth low in the House of the Dead from whence no man returneth. Pray, mighty hero, tell us what else we may offer thee in recompense for this great service thou hast provided us.”

‘“But one thing,” quoth Starkad in deadly earnest.

‘“And that is what?” they asked.

‘“Your heart’s blood,” quoth Starkad. And, so saying, sprang he to the massy door and chained it shut with chains of steel that none might escape him. Then drew he forth Hlorithn, Dread Drychtnath’s bright blade, which he had brought with him to Chyrellos for just this purpose. And then took the hero Starkad his payment for the deed he had done on the plains of the Peloi.

‘And when he had finished collecting that which was owed him, the Church of Chyrellos lay headless, for not one of her princes saw the setting of the sun that day, and sorrowing still that he had slain his friend, Starkad sadly took his leave of the Holy City and never returned there more.

‘But it is said in dark-forested Lamorkland that the oracles and the auguries speak still of the mighty Drychtnath and of the day when the War-God Hrokka will relent and release the spirit of Drychtnath from his service as one of the Immortal Thanes in the Hall of
Heroes that he may come once more to Lamorkland to take up again that grand design. Then how the blood will flow, and then how the kings of the world will tremble as once again the world shakes beneath the mighty stride of Dread Drychtnath the Destroyer, and the crown and throne of the world shall lie in his immortal grip, as was from the beginning intended.’ Ortzel’s voice fell silent, indicating that he had reached the end.

‘That’s all?’ Talen protested vehemently.

‘I skipped over a great number of passages,’ Ortzel conceded, ‘battle descriptions and the like. The Lamorks of antiquity had an unhealthy fascination with certain kinds of numbers. They wanted to know how many barrels of blood, pounds of brains and yards of entrails were spilled out during the festivities.’

‘But the story doesn’t end right,’ Talen complained. ‘Drychtnath was the hero, but after Starkad murdered him,
he
turned into the hero. That isn’t right. The bad people shouldn’t be allowed to change over like that.’

‘That’s a very interesting argument, Talen – particularly coming from you.’

‘I’m not a bad person, your Grace, I’m just a thief. It’s not the same at all. At least the churchmen all got what was coming to them.’

‘You have a long way to go with this one, Sparhawk,’ Bevier observed. ‘We all loved Kurik like a brother, but are we really sure that his son has the makings of a Church Knight in him?’

‘I’m working on that,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘So that’s what Drychtnath’s all about. Just how deeply do the commons in Lamorkand believe in the story, your Grace?’

‘It goes deeper than belief, Sparhawk,’ Ortzel replied. ‘The story’s in our blood. I’m wholly committed to the Church, but when I hear
The Drychtnathasaga,
I become an absolute pagan – for a while at least.’

‘Well,’ Tynian said, ‘now we know what we’re up against. We have the same thing going on in Lamorkand as we have in Rendor. We’ve got heresies springing up all around us. It still doesn’t solve our problem, though. How are Sparhawk and the rest of us going to be able to go to Tamuli without insulting the emperor?’

‘I’ve solved that problem already, Tynian,’ Ehlana told him.

‘I beg your Majesty’s pardon?’

‘It’s so simple that I’m almost ashamed of you all that you didn’t think of it first.’

‘Enlighten us, your Majesty,’ Stragen said. ‘Make us blush for our stupidity.’

‘It’s time for the western Elene Kingdoms to open communications with the Tamul Empire,’ she explained. ‘We
are
neighbours, after all. It’s politically very sound for me to make a state visit to Matherion, and if you gentlemen are all very nice to me, I’ll invite you to come along.’ She frowned. ‘That was the least of our problems. Now we’ll have to address something far more serious.’

‘And what is that, Ehlana?’ Dolmant asked her.

‘I simply don’t have a thing to wear, Sarathi.’

Sparhawk had learned to keep a tight rein on his emotions during the years since his marriage to the Queen of Elenia, but his smile was slightly fixed as the meeting broke up. Kalten fell in beside him as they all left the council chamber. ‘I gather that you’re less than pleased with our queen’s solution to the problem,’ he observed. Kalten was Sparhawk’s boyhood friend, and he had learned how to read that battered face.

‘You might say that, yes,’ Sparhawk replied tightly.

‘Are you open to a suggestion?’

‘I’ll listen.’ Sparhawk didn’t want to make any promises at this point.

‘Why don’t you and I go down into the crypt under the Basilica?’

‘Why?’

‘I thought you might want to vent certain feelings before you and your wife discuss the matter. You’re a bit savage when you’re angry, Sparhawk, and I’m really very fond of your wife. If you call her an idiot to her face, you’ll hurt her feelings.’

‘Are you trying to be funny?’

‘Not in the least, my friend. I feel almost the same way about it as you do, and I’ve had a very colourful education. When you run out of swear-words, I’ll supply some you might not have heard.’

‘Let’s go,’ Sparhawk said, turning abruptly down a side corridor.

They passed through the nave quickly, perfunctorily genuflecting to the altar in passing, and descended into
the crypt that contained the bones of several aeons’ worth of Archprelates.

‘Don’t bang your fists on the walls,’ Kalten cautioned as Sparhawk began to pace up and down, swearing and waving his arms in the air. ‘You’ll break your knuckles.’

‘It’s a total absurdity, Kalten!’ Sparhawk said after he had shouted profanities for several minutes.

‘It’s worse than that, my friend. There’s always room in the world for absurdities. They’re sort of fun actually, but this is dangerous. We have no way of knowing what we’re going to encounter in Tamuli. I love your wife dearly, but having her along is going to be inconvenient.’

‘Inconvenient?’

‘I’m trying to be polite. How does “bloody hindering awkward” strike you?’

‘It’s closer.’

‘You’ll never persuade her to stay home though. I’d give that up as a lost cause before I even started. She’s obviously made up her mind, and she outranks you. You probably ought to try to put the best face on it – avoid the embarrassment of being told to shut your mouth and go to your room.’ Sparhawk grunted.

‘I think our best approach is to talk with Oscagne. We’ll be taking the most precious thing in Elenia to the Daresian continent where things are far from tranquil. Your wife’s going there is a personal favour to the Emperor of Tamuli, so he’s obligated to protect her. An escort of a few dozen legions of Atans meeting us at the Astel border might be looked upon as a sign of his Majesty’s appreciation, wouldn’t you say?’

‘That’s really not a bad idea, Kalten.’

‘I’m not
totally
stupid, Sparhawk. Now, Ehlana’s going to expect you to rant and rave and wave your arms at her. She’s ready for that, so don’t do it. She
is
going along. We’ve lost that fight already, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Unless I chain her to the bed.’

‘There’s an interesting idea.’

‘Never mind.’

‘It’s tactically unsound to fight a last stand unless you’re trapped. Give her that victory, and then she’ll owe you one. Use it to get her to agree not to do
anything
while we’re in Tamuli without your express permission. That way we can keep her almost as safe as she’d be if she stayed home. There’s a good chance that she’ll be so happy that you didn’t scream at her that she’ll agree without thinking it all the way through. You’ll be able to restrict her movements when we get there – at least enough to keep her out of danger.’

‘Kalten, sometimes you amaze me,’ Sparhawk told his friend.

‘I know,’ the blond Pandion replied. ‘This stupid-looking face of mine is very useful sometimes.’

‘Where did you ever learn so much about manipulating royalty?’

‘I’m not manipulating royalty, Sparhawk. I’m manipulating a woman, and I’m an expert at that. Women are born negotiators. They love these little trades. If you go to a woman and say, “I’ll do this for you if you do that for me,” she’ll almost always be willing to talk about it at least. Women
always
want to talk about things. If you keep your eye on what you really want, you’ll almost always come out on top.’ He paused. ‘Metaphorically speaking of course,’ he added.

‘What are you up to, Sparhawk?’ Mirtai asked him suspiciously when he approached the suite of rooms Dolmant had provided for Ehlana and her personal retinue. Sparhawk carefully let the smug expression slide from his face and assumed one of grave concern instead.

‘Don’t try to be clever, Sparhawk,’ she told him. ‘If you hurt her, I’ll have to kill you, you know.’

‘I’m not going to hurt her, Mirtai. I’m not even going to yell at her.’

‘You’re up to something, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I am. After you lock me inside, put your ear to the door and listen.’ He gave her a sidelong look. ‘But you do that all the time anyway, don’t you?’

She actually blushed. She jerked the door open. ‘Just get in there, Sparhawk!’ she commanded, her face like a thundercloud.

‘My, aren’t we testy tonight?’

‘Go!’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Ehlana was ready for him, that much was fairly obvious. She was wearing a dressing-gown of a pale rose that made her look particularly appealing, and she had done things with her hair. There was a barely noticeable tightness about her eyes, though.

‘Good evening, love,’ Sparhawk said calmly. ‘Tedious day, wasn’t it? Conferences can be so exhausting at times.’ He crossed the room, pausing to kiss her almost perfunctorily in passing, and poured himself a glass of wine.

‘I know what you’re going to say, Sparhawk.’ she said.

‘Oh?’ He gave her an innocent look.

‘You’re angry with me, aren’t you?’

‘No. Not really. What made you think I’d be angry?’

She looked a bit less sure of herself. ‘You mean you’re not? I thought you’d be raging by now – about my decision to pay a state visit to Tamuli, I mean.’

‘No, actually it’s a very good idea. Of course we’ll have to take a few precautions to ensure your safety, but we always have to do that, so we’re sort of used to it, aren’t we?’

‘What kind of precautions are we talking about here?’ Her tone was suspicious.

‘Nothing all that extreme, dear. I don’t think you should go walking in the forest alone or visiting thieves’ dens without some sort of escort. I’m not talking about anything out of the ordinary, and you’re used to certain restrictions on your movements already. We’ll be in a strange country, and we don’t know the people. I know that you’ll trust me to sort of nose things out, and that you won’t argue with me if I tell you that something’s too dangerous. We can all live with that, I’m sure. You pay me to protect you, after all, so we won’t have any silly little squabbles about security measures, now will we?’ He kept his tone mild and sweetly reasonable, giving her no reason to raise any questions about exactly what he had in mind when he spoke of ‘security measures’.

‘You know much more about that sort of thing than I do, my love,’ she conceded, ‘so I’ll leave all that entirely in your hands. If a girl has a champion who just happens to be the greatest knight in the world, she’d be foolish not to pay attention to him, now wouldn’t she?’

‘My feelings exactly,’ he agreed. It was a small victory, to be sure, but when one is dealing with a queen, victories of any kind are hard to come by.

‘Well,’ she said, rising to her feet, ‘since we’re not going to fight, why don’t we go to bed?’

‘Good idea.’

The kitten Talen had given to Princess Danae was named Mmrr, and Mmrr had one habit that particularly irritated Sparhawk. Kittens like to have company when they sleep, and Mmrr had found that when Sparhawk slept, he curled up slightly and that the space just behind his knees was a perfect place for her to nest. Sparhawk customarily slept with the covers pulled
tightly around his neck, but that was no real problem. A cold, wet nose touched to the back of his neck caused him to flinch away violently, and that involuntary movement would always open just enough of a gap for an enterprising kitten. Mmrr found the whole process quite satisfactory and even rather amusing.

Sparhawk, however, did not. It was shortly before dawn when he emerged from the bedroom, tousled, sleepy-eyed and just a bit out of sorts.

Princess Danae wandered into the large central room absently dragging Rollo behind her. ‘Have you seen my cat?’ she asked her father.

‘She’s in bed with your mother,’ he replied shortly.

‘I should have known, I suppose. Mmrr likes the way mother smells. She told me so herself.’

Sparhawk glanced around and then carefully closed the bedroom door. ‘I need to talk with Sephrenia again,’ he said.

‘All right.’

‘Not here, though. I’ll find someplace.’

‘What happened last night?’

‘We have to go to Tamuli.’

‘I thought you were going to do something about Drychtnath.’

‘I am – in a way. It seems that there’s something – or someone – over on the Daresian continent that’s behind Drychtnath. I think we’ll be able to find out more about him there than we ever would here. I’ll make arrangements to have you taken back to Cimmura.’

She pursed her small mouth. ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘I’d better go along with you.’

‘That’s absolutely out of the question.’

‘Oh, Sparhawk,
do
grow up. I’m going along because you’re going to need me when we get there.’ She negligently tossed Rollo over into a corner. ‘I’m also going because you can’t stop me. Come up with some reason
for it, Sparhawk. Otherwise you’ll have to explain to mother how it is that I managed to get ahead of you when you all find me sitting in a tree alongside a road somewhere. Get dressed father, and go find a place where we can talk privately.’

Some time later, Sparhawk and his daughter climbed a narrow, spiralling wooden staircase that led to the cupola atop the dome of the Basilica. There was quite probably no more private place in the world, particularly in view of the fact that the wooden stairs leading up to the little bell-tower did not so much creak as they did shriek when anyone began to climb them.

When they reached the unenclosed little house high above the city, Danae spent several minutes gazing out over Chyrellos. ‘You can always see so much better from up high like this,’ she said. ‘It’s just about the only reason I’ve ever found for flying.’

‘Can you really fly?’

‘Of course. Can’t you?’

‘You know better, Aphrael.’

‘I was only teasing you, Sparhawk,’ she laughed. ‘Let’s get started.’ She sat down, crossed her legs and lifted her little face to sing that trilling song she had raised back in Cimmura. Then again, her eyes closed and her face went blank as the song died away.

‘What is it
this
time, Sparhawk?’ Sephrenia’s voice was a bit tart.

‘What’s the matter, little mother?’

‘Do you realise that it’s the middle of the night here?’

‘It
is
?’

‘Of course it is. The sun’s on your side of the world now.’

‘Astonishing – though I suppose it stands to reason if you think about it. Did I disturb you?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact you did.’

‘What were you doing so late at night?’

‘None of your business. What do you want?’

‘We’ll be coming to Daresia soon.’

‘What?’

‘The emperor asked us to come – well, he asked
me
actually. The rest are sort of tagging along. Ehlana’s going to make a state visit to Matherion to sort of give us all an excuse for being there.’

‘Have you taken leave of your senses? Tamuli’s a very dangerous place right now.’

‘Probably not much more than Eosia is. We were attacked by ancient Lamorks on our way here to Chyrellos from Cimmura.’

‘Perhaps they were just modern-day Lamorks dressed in ancient garb.’

‘I rather doubt that, Sephrenia. They vanished when their attack began to fail.’

‘All of them?’

‘Except for the ones who were already dead. Would a little logic offend you?’

‘Not unless you drag it out.’

‘We’re almost positive that the attackers really were ancient Lamorks, and Ambassador Oscagne told us that someone’s been raising antique heroes in Daresia as well. Logic implies that this resurrection business is originating in Tamuli and that its goal is to stir up nationalistic sentiments in order to weaken the central governments – the empire in Daresia and the Church here in Eosia. If we’re right about the source of all of this activity being somewhere in Tamuli, that’s the logical place to start looking for answers. Where are you right now?’

‘Vanion and I are at Sarsos in eastern Astel. You’d better come here, Sparhawk. These long-distance conversations tend to blur things.’

Sparhawk thought for a moment, trying to remember
the map of Daresia. ‘We’ll come overland then. I’ll find some way to get the others to agree to that.’

‘Try not to take too long, Sparhawk. It’s really very important that we talk face to face.’

‘Right. Sleep well, little mother.’

‘I wasn’t sleeping.’

‘Oh? What
were
you doing?’

‘Didn’t you hear what she told you before, Sparhawk?’ his daughter asked him.

‘Which was what?’

‘She told you that it was none of your business what she was doing.’

‘What an astonishingly good idea, your Majesty,’ Oscagne said later that morning when they had all gathered once again in Dolmant’s private audience-chamber. ‘I’d have never thought of it in a million years. The leaders of the subject nations of Tamuli don’t go to Matherion unless they’re summoned by his Imperial Majesty.’

‘The rulers of Eosia are less restrained, your Excellency,’ Emban told him. ‘They have total sovereignty.’

‘Astonishing. Has your Church no authority over their actions, your Grace?’

‘Only in spiritual matters, I’m afraid.’

‘Isn’t that inconvenient?’

‘You wouldn’t believe how much, Ambassador Oscagne,’ Dolmant sighed, looking at Ehlana reproachfully.