Warrior (The Key to Magic) (29 page)

"You said 'them?'  He wasn't alone?"

"No, my lord king." Ceannaire Abaegwyrd grinned in a cavalier fashion.  "He had his
five
wives with him."

Mar chuckled.  "Yes, that would be about right.  Thank you, ceannaire.  That will be all."

The ceannaire saluted and made for the hatch.  Abaegwyrd was a member of the small contingent that had accompanied Vice-Captain Mhygaeus and would remain in Khalar with his commander to assist Lord Purhlea in the implementation of his new policy of
throw out all the bureaucrats, ignore the merchants, and run the place like a military camp. 
Mhygaeus had shown up wounded but alive along with a number of rescued guardsmen and all of his marines, explaining that he had ordered a strategic retreat, or in his exact words, 'hidden in a stable,' until the mobs had lost interest. 

Mar closed his lap desk.  He thought it odd that Llylquaendt had not attempted to contact him, and would like to have had the opportunity to speak with the
medic
but knew that he did not have the time to go off looking for him now.  Dreading what Phaelle'n sparked calamity might have erupted in his absence, he knew that he must return to Mhajhkaei as soon as he could.

He stood on his artificial legs, moved across the deck, and climbed the steerage stairs to join Ulor and the two legionnaire lookouts, Kyamhyn and Dhem, that waited with him.

"Ready, my lord king?"

"Yes.  You can raise ship."

Mar felt a strong inclination to remain in Khalar longer, but judged that he had done all that he had time to do.  All of the fires had been extinguished, many with Mar's own magic, civil order had been restored to the entire city, and Lord Purhlea was firmly in control.  Early in the morning on the day after Mar's demonstration to the Privy Council, large processions of devotees, representing the entire spectrum of the pantheon, had flooded from the Lower City to view Hwraldek's body and to count the Moon Dancers, who Mar had ordered to parade upon the esplanade of the temple continually.  All of the chief priests, priestesses, stewards, advocates, administrators, moderators, and other varied religious potentates of the major temples and shrines had addressed the crowds, assured them that no murder had taken place and that the emperor had the enthusiastic blessing of all the Gods.  By midday, the faithful had all wandered away save for a number of zealots who had begun building a new shrine to Rwalkahn at the foot of the obelisk.  As far as Mar could tell, the councilors were truly cowed -- or, in Lord Purhlea's words, 'had the fear of the Gods put in them.'  A demonstrably motivated Erskh had already begun making verbose reports to Lord Purhlea on their exact movements, visitations, expenditures, meals, and sleeping companions.  Mar was not sure that this arrangement would prevent future conspiracies in the long term, but it had been the best that he had been able to come up with for now.

"Aye, my lord king," Ulor acknowledged.  "Should I set a direct course for Mhajhkaei?"

"No, we're going to stop at the Monolith for a few hours.  I have something that I need to take a look at."

Before Hwraldek and the riots, he had made up his mind to put aside his reservations and to gaze into the Moon Pool once more.   Now, after treason and rebellion, it seemed doubly urgent that he gain magical assistance with the future, but he no longer desired to merely steal another short look at his own possible future.  He needed a way to perceive the future --
any
future -- when and where he would.

Wilhm, Lord Hhrahld, and now even Mhiskva had had dreams to provide foreboding of coming events.  Suspecting these dreams to be some esoteric side effect of the Gaaelfharenii magic, he did not believe that he could harness them to his own use.  Similarly, his
unease
, which came and went with no pattern or rule that he could deduce, was so unreliable and vague that it was practically useless.

  Magic could show the future in detail.  The Moon Pool was patent evidence of that and it was that sort of clear vision that he coveted.    Having studied and learned the sophisticated and advanced flux modulations of Llylquaendt's
autodoc
, it seemed reasonable that he should have the capability to derive clues from the Moon Pool as to the nature of the ethereal modulations required to look forward in time.  If he could master spells that would show him the consequences of his own actions or betray the efforts of traitors like Hwraldek, then he could much more ably rule his kingdom and empire.  If he could spy on the future of the Brotherhood of Phaelle, then he would be able to counter their attacks before they came to be.  Final victory and long-lasting peace would be assured.

When Number slipped into the tunnel through the sand sphere shield and approached the dock, Mar saw that Master Khlosb'ihs, who was beginning to appear weirdly prescient, was again waiting.  Via Ulor in a launch, Mar had kept Khlosb'ihs apprised of events in Khalar, so it was no surprise that the Viceroy of the Monolith wore no armor and carried no staff. 

Khlosb'ihs was accompanied only by Thylbr, master of the
Empress Telriy
, which Mar had previously thought to be somewhere in the southern Silver Sea.  The large Mhajhkaei-built cargo skyship was visible beyond the amputated ancient bridge, riding at anchor in the skyship harbor.  This last, a large, level area cleared of rubble, was one of the shipwright's recent civil projects.

As he prepared to fly over to the dock, Mar told Ulor, "Don't bother tying up.  We won't be here long at all."

"Aye, my lord king."

When he landed, Mar, only half-joking, asked Khlosb'ihs, "Are you using magic to find out when I'm going to arrive?"

The shipwright gave him a quizzical look.  "No, my lord king. Captain Khor'landt has posted lookouts in all the old towers around the cliffs to keep watch for skyships, both ours and the enemy's."

"Ah, of course."

A smile broke on the shipwright's face.  "My lord king, the Queen has returned to Mhajhkaei in the company of Prince-Commander Ghorn!"

Mar did not twitch an eyebrow.  "Alive, I presume?"

Moving his hands in an aborted demonstrative gesture, Khlosb'ihs blinked rapidly in confusion.  "Why, yes, my lord king.  Both of them."

"I brought them in the
Empress Telriy
," Thylbr contriubuted.

The first news had not moved Mar as he might once have thought it would.  Telriy's departure, without warning or explanation, and her return, in the very same fashion, was simply another facet of their peculiar association.  They had lived together as husband and wife and made a child, but they had made no promises to each other, had not made any commitment to a shared life, and were no closer to being bound together by mutual agreement than any two total strangers on the street.  Whatever her reason for returning, he could not say that she had returned to
him
.

On the other hand, Lord Ghorn's fortunate survival or miraculous resurrection was a boon.  The Prince-Commander would be invaluable to the war effort against the Brotherhood of Phaelle.

"Thank you for the information, Master Khlosb'ihs.  Captain Thylbr, you came back north on the Queen's orders?"

"Yes, my lord king.  Should I not have done so?"

"No, it's fine.  The Queen sent you to the Monolith?"

"The
Empress Telriy
has no polybolos, my lord king.  High-Captain Mhiskva thought that it would be safer here."

"Good idea.  But I'd like you to prepare your skyship to accompany Number One back to Mhajhkaei.  The Imperial household will be moving to the Monolith for the summer and the
Empress Telriy
will have plenty of room for everyone."

Thylbr saluted.  "We will be ready to depart in no more than half an hour, my lord king."

Mar left the pair, both obviously befuddled by his muted reaction, and flew across the ruin to find the ancient courtyard and its crescent shaped pool.

Because of his improved cognizance of the background ether, he was able to travel directly to it.  The artifact, he could now sense, created a delicate flare in the mumbling-aqua cloud that surrounded the Monolith.  This rainbow-symphony of intricate flux modulations was of such power that he was amazed that some of the magician-pilot trainees had not detected it.  As he neared, he traced the sound-colors of the symphony and found them plunging down from the pool into the underlying rock.  The ethereal tendrils extended as far as he could sense throughout the plateau.  Amazingly, it seemed that the entire Monolith, or at least a great portion of it, acted as a flux vessel for the pool.

The courtyard was nearly as he had seen it last, though the ancient garden plot was verdant with new growth and the stable where he had slept had lost a few more slates from its roof.  True to his orders, the crews expanding the Monolith settlement had not disturbed the area.  Landing right at the curb of the reflective pool, he saw that the water still trickled from the eroded fountain.  The pool itself was clear, though its surface was troubled by an inconsistent wind.

In the bright sunlight, of course, there was no moonlight to key the magic and thus no vision of a future self to confront him.  On the trip down from Khalar, he had considered waiting until moonrise, but his reservations had continued to multiply and he had finally rejected the prospect of another vision, embracing the excuse that he did not have the luxury of remaining idle for half a day.

He settled on the curb and took a drink in his cupped hand.  The water was still cold and refreshing.  After a few more moments of relaxed contemplation of the empty courtyard, he narrowed his attention to just the pool and began to study its magic.

FORTY-FIVE

Telriy heard a firm knock on her door and knew that it was Mar.  Number One had returned at midday with the
Empress Telriy
in tow.  She had made a point of not going to the dock to greet him.  That had been a full three hours ago.

With a studiously neutral tone, she called out, "Come in."

The door opened and he
walked
in, leaving the door open.  Yhejia had told her about the artificial legs.  He stopped after only a few steps, yet a good distance from where she sat in the padded rocking chair that Yhejia had insisted that she have.  His expression, like her invitation, was neutral.

"Are you well?"

His manner was tightly controlled, but not distant or cold.  He had changed in the time that they had been apart.  Though his features were exactly the same, he had clearly grown stronger -- in every sense of the word -- in her absence.  He was confident now -- in his place in the world, in the power of his own magic -- where before he had seemed to be muddling his way through.  From all that Yhejia had told him, he had come into his own as a king and emperor and was more than comfortable in the role.

"I am," She told him.  It was fascinating, though it did strike her as somehow
odd
, to see him standing on two feet.  She examined his legs and easily found a stir in the ether around each one.  "The legs, they're magic?"

With perfect balance, he raised a knee and rolled up his trouser leg to show wood and brass above the top of his boot.

"Yes, but I've learned how to re-grow my own legs and they'll be finished in less than a fortnight.  I'll do the arm next, though it might take a lot longer because of the additional complexity of the bones and muscles of the wrist and hand."

He let his leg down and shook it to straighten his trouser.  "The baby is well?"

"She is."

She watched his face.  Anger would not have surprised her.  She would not grant that he had a right to be angry.  After all, she owed him nothing.  Nevertheless, this -- What to call it?  Indifference? Lack of emotion? -- seemed an even greater reproach.  For an irrational moment, she felt an impulse to confess that she desired most of all to be held, wanted to once more feel his arm around her and their child, but she would not speak the words.  There was no such thing as love.  She had to believe that.

He contemplated her for a moment with placid eyes, then said, "You should go to the Monolith."

She had not expected that he would welcome her with -- so to speak -- open arms, but had never imagined outright rejection.  "If that's what you want."

His face wrestled with the moment, then he blew out a puff of exasperated air, spread his arm and stump in an all inclusive gesture, and said with straightforward honesty, "I want all of this to go away, but it won't.  I want to be a thief reading a stolen book on a sunny roof, but I'll never be that again.  I want those for whom I am responsible to be safe, and that's -- finally -- perhaps one thing that I can do something about, at least to some extent.  The Palace will be vulnerable to air attack when I'm gone.  I'm sending Yhejia and the entire household to the Monolith."

Mollified, she said, "I'll go then."  She paused.  "You'll not be present for the birth."

"No.  Aunt Whelsi told me that it will be some days yet and I'll leave soon for the east."  There was no apology or regret in what he said.

"Would you ... want to name the baby?"

"Gherihy.  Her name will be Gherihy.  She will be betrothed to the love of her life."

"You have visions now?" she asked, wondering how powerful his magic had become.

"No. That's an old future, but I've no reason to believe that it has changed."

She fell silent.

He looked around. Her small room was not much different from the one in the South Tower where they had spent their first, admittedly only platonic, night together.  She had a large, currently open window, a wide, comfortable bed, a sturdy table and a couch with plush cushions where she and Yhejia would sit and talk.  Yhejia's -- and Ulor's when he happened to be at the Palace -- rooms were just ten steps down the corridor.  Telriy had been spending her days with Yhejia while the woman managed the Palace.  Most evenings, she would also sit in with the Royal Seneschal and her family.

"Are your quarters adequate?  I can arrange for something larger."