She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) (40 page)

Sir Ferse made sure his voice was lowered as he began to tell Samuel what had happened.  ‘As well as everyone
,
I had heard the whispered prophecy of my demise but
,
being the man I was, I of course ignored such nonsense.  It was not that I did not believe it could happen—for
,
as you know
,
I trust the visions of Master Celios above all—it was just that I imagined it happening after I was old and grey, and such a death at that time would probably even be welcom
e
.  Then, the day of my death happened, as you are well aware, given that you were there, and I was quite surprised to find myself waking up in this body.  You see, in the days leading up to my demise, Master Celios’ visions had grown stronger and he had secretly devised a method of capturing my essence and ensuring that my consciousness was not lost.’

‘Sorry, I have to interrupt you there because that is just not possible.  No magician can do what are describing.  It is just not within our capabilities.’

‘Then I suggest you have a chat to Master Celios yourself, because he seems to know quite a bit more about magic than you.  Don’t worry, I have quizzed him on the matter quite exhaustively, but he can only reveal that the method came to him in another inexplicable vision.  It had taken him every moment since the vision to prepare and, unfortunately, a body did have to be found.’  With that, he gestured to himself, as if to exhibit the point.  ‘Sir Ferse was a likeable and steadfast fellow, but he was required to serve me one last time, in his way.  Don’t fret, for the process did not kill him.  My essence was borne into his, for that is the way it has to be, and our thoughts became one.  Poor Lady Ferse was correct when she said something had happened to her husband, but he is still here, in here with me.’  And he tapped himself on the temple.

‘So is this you or Sir Ferse speaking?’

‘Both of us but
,
as it turns out, some personalities are stronger than others, and some souls—or whatever term we should use—are more developed than others.  Over the first few weeks of our being
con
joined, Sir Ferse became less and less dominant and I became more in control.  Our personalities merged and perhaps that explains my subtle change of heart.  Being the megalomaniac that I was perhaps explains the fact that I ended up being much more dominant, but we are both here, joined as one.’

‘Can it be undone?’ Samuel asked.

‘Oh, gods no,’ the man declared, struggling to keep his voice lowered.  ‘At least, I hope not.  We are one person now, mixed and mingled like two coloured inks.  There are not two people to separate any more.  I am Andor Ferse and also Edmond Calais, once-Emperor of Cintar.  Also, I don’t have a body to return to, as mine was buried long ago, so I would not find the prospect of being “unhomed” very attractive.’

Samuel took some moments to mull over the facts of the last few minutes.

‘I will keep your secret,’ he affirmed and the other nodded.  ‘But I must admit that yours is by far the more interesting.’

‘Good.  And I shall keep yours, or else you would probably lose your head.’

‘Then I must also ask you, why have you come here with us?  Why have you kept your presence such a secret?’

‘I have come, my young friend, to save the wife and son I love.  I have kept myself a secret because, quite simply,
my family
will not be returning to Cintar.’

‘What?’ Samuel heard himself declare and the others looked over,
caus
ing the Emperor to respond in a whispered voice.

‘The Empire is falling.  After I was reborn
,
I had decided to keep quiet for a while and wait until an opportune time to announce myself.  I quickly discovered in those early days what my servants really thought and how they spoke about me behind closed doors.  There were already so many plans in motion to siphon my gold and power
,
so many plots to kill and outdo each other for attention.  I found that almost everyone in the palace had very little genuine interest in the Empire and a lot of interest in themselves.’

‘But they are Turians. 
All
Turians love the Empire.’

‘So they do, the common masses
love the Empire much more
.  In the palace, they quickly learn to profit themselves from the Empire.  It sickened me.  Several times
,
I considered revealing myself and killing everyone—starting from scratch—but I realised it would only be a matter of time before the same thing happened again.  Power corrupts, Samuel, and only a few of my staff, such as my beloved General Ruardin, truly believed in my vision of the Empire.  I told no one and Master Celios aided me.  I waited until my son was born and
,
for the first time, I felt real joy.  Too long had my heart been leaden and I had lost all memory of true happiness.  I planned to escape with him, for I already have enough gold secreted away to live a long and happy life in some corner of the world.  The war was not going well, but I could not care less.  All that ruined my plan was the selfish act of the Paatin Queen.  She took my son.’

‘And your wife,’ Samuel reminded him.

‘Of course.’

‘So why do you think I will continue to help you, now that I know our mission is a farce and we will not be returning the rightful heir to Cintar?’

‘Because I have begun to understand you, Samuel.  More than anything, I know people.  That is how I managed to do everything I ever accomplished in my life—by reading and predicting people’s behaviour.  You don’t care about the Empire.  You care about the lives being lost in the war and perhaps you even care about the Order; although not as an organisation, but more for its ambitions.’  Samuel was impressed so far.  ‘Your Grand Master Anthem had been trying to create a utopian Order all along, and I know that many have long desired for the Empire to be broken.  That process has already begun and I doubt anything can save the Empire now.  Many of the territories are already lost.  At best, Turia will maintain its place as a nation amongst many, but there is a decent chance it will be lost altogether.  All we need to do now is kill the Paatin Queen.  These desert people are just like those Koians.  Their god is all-important to them.  The Paatin Queen summoned the people from their tribes and villages to attack us and
,
once we kill her, they will return to their old and simple ways.  So that, Samuel, is how I know you will not reveal me.  Because what I am doing is right and you are a righteous person.  Saving my son, killing the Paatin Queen and keeping my identity secret will give you everything your heart says is good, Samuel, and I know, somehow, that you will accomplish all three.’

‘How do you know all that?  Celios?’

‘No, not this time.  As I told you, Samuel.  I know people.  You will do this because it is who you are.’

Samuel took a long time to summon his next reply, while the reborn Emperor watched on intently.  ‘I believe you, but I have one more question.’

‘What is it?’ asked Sir Ferse keenly.

‘If it is
,
indeed
,
true that you were the Emperor, and that people can be reborn into new bodies, it raises an interesting possibility.’  And he looked over his shoulder towards the now
-
sleeping Koian god.  ‘Perhaps, what they have been telling us about her all along is actually true.’

 

Morning arrived and with it came the driving wind and rain.  It was a miserable start to the day and they clambered slowly along the paths in their stiff
,
goat-hide raincoats.  The
garments
were coarse and uncomfortable, but at least they kept them dry and the hoods
protected
their faces from the biting wind.  Daneel had produced a long sled and they had bundled their packs on top of it.  They had been planning how to best manage towing it along, when Horse had stepped in and had simply begun dragging it behind him.  He looked no more bothered by its weight than he had carrying his enormous pack.

‘The man is incredible,’ the embodiment of Edmond Calais said, looking towards the tireless Koian warrior.

Samuel could only agree.  ‘He uses magic in a way I have never seen.  It is in his muscles and fibres and very essence of being.  It is very subtle.  I only saw it myself when he was fighting.  It fused with his movements, giving him strength and speed beyond normal men.’

‘They train them from birth.’  It was Ambassador Canyon.  He had stalked up beside them in the rain and overheard them talking; and although he could not understand the Turian language, their inference towards the Koian male was clear.  ‘They are warriors, b
orn
and b
red
to die for the royal line.’

‘How do they learn such magic?’ Samuel asked, slipping into the Old Tongue.

‘Magic?  I know nothing of magic.  As I said, we do not welcome magicians in Koia.  They are cursed at birth for the trouble they bring.’

Samuel ignored the stinging comment.  ‘Why did you not tell us about these warriors before, Ambassador Canyon?’ Samuel asked him.  ‘You made out they were only simple servants.’

‘Empress Moon ordered them to protect our god.  They do that best when their purpose is secret.  I only told you they were servants and that is all anyone needed to know.  They are servants and protectors of our god
,
the highest honour for any of their kind.  I told you the truth.’

‘You are a true diplomat, Ambassador Canyon,’ Sir Ferse told him.  ‘
You r
eveal nothing you must not, and contort what you must—sophistry at its best.’

Samuel gave the reborn Emperor beside him a deliberate and steady look, although it must have been lost through the howling and gusty rain.  In speaking, he had to raise his voice to be heard.  ‘You speak the Old Tongue, now Sir Ferse?’

The man seemed not to follow.  ‘What’s that?’ he replied, reverting to Turian once more.

‘I said you seem to understand the Old Tongue now, Sir Ferse,’ Samuel said, using the Old Tongue to prove his point.  ‘Is this another of your secrets?’

‘Of course not,’ the man with an emperor inside him responded, as factually as could be.

‘That’s very strange, Sir Ferse,’ Ambassador Canyon called across, ‘because this is the only language I speak.  You mean to say you cannot understand me?’

Sir Ferse walked
in
silen
ce
for a few paces and there were glimpses of a worried expression on his face.  ‘I had better speak to Master Celios about this,’ he said and hurried ahead to catch up with the Seer of Cintar.

‘I have one more thing to ask you, Ambassador,’ Samuel said to the
dripp
ing Koian leader, still beside him.  Canyon, in return, turned his head to look at Samuel and the rain poured over his hood.  ‘Lady River died in the fortress of Ghant, but it was no Paatin blade that slew her.  Someone broke her neck with a single blow.’

‘My men would not do that, if that is what you are suggesting, Samuel.  Why would we kill our own?  She was just a girl.  I’m sure it was the Paatin who found her in her room.’

‘She told me your god has fearsome powers.  She told me to kill her before something terrible could happen.’ Canyon did not respond immediately and was quiet and brooding in the rain.  ‘Well?’ Samuel prompted him.

‘I cannot argue or support what I do not know.  Perhaps Stone had discovered her treachery.  I would not have guessed, for she was just a tiny slip of a girl.  Even in our culture, there are those with their own crooked ambitions.’  Now it was Samuel’s turn to think silently in the rain, before Canyon interrupted his dark thoughts.  ‘So?  Why did you not believe her?’

‘Who said I didn’t?  I have just not yet made up my mind what to do about it.’

 

The rain did not cease for several days, but one mid-morning it simply stopped
,
leaving their coats dripping and glistening.  Soon, they were unlacing them and peeling them off to throw on the sled, for they were all sweating under the heavy bulk of the things.  While they were resting on a flat plateau strewn with pale rocks, Balten took it upon himself to finally reveal the stash of tobacco that he had been keeping up his sleeve and Ambassador Canyon, Horse and Sir Ferse all hurried over to sample it.  They each took puffs and the men were soon happily chatting and taking turns to blow smoke into the chill air.  The Order magicians avoided such things if they could, while the god-woman wandered carefully atop the misshapen stones, peering up at the crags above them.

Other books

Slightly Tempted by Mary Balogh
Rob Roy by Walter Scott
Hunting by Andrea Höst
Untraceable by Johannes, S. R.
Parts Unknown by Davidson, S.P.
Believed (My Misery Muse) by Betzold, Brei