Sword of Caledor (17 page)

‘I suspected as much but it is nice to have that confirmed. Do you think he would help me?’

‘He’ll probably tear your arm off trying to get those out of your grip. A new and authentic slann text – it’s the sort of thing he dreams about. I’ve known him since he was my tutor at the tower. The slann have always been an obsession with him.’

‘I am familiar with the type,’ said Teclis thinking of his father. Malene could obviously tell the way his thoughts were running.

‘Do not confuse Morelian with Prince Arathion. You do not get to be High Loremaster without being perceptive, ambitious and politically minded.’

‘I know him by sight, of course, but not that well.’

‘He will know you too, but, of course, I will write. It can’t do any harm.’

As the head of House Emeraldsea, his aunt was one of the richest and most influential women in Ulthuan, a personal friend of the Phoenix King. Since she was a mage, she was also a powerful ally of the White Tower at court. Again, almost as if she could read what he was thinking, she said, ‘I see you are becoming quite political yourself.’

‘I have a long way to go before I can match my brother.’

‘You’ll get there in the end.’

‘I am not sure I want to.’

‘You’ll be High Loremaster one of these days. I am sure of it.’

‘It is not an honour to which I aspire.’

‘Now you really do sound like your brother,’ Malene said. Teclis wondered what she meant by that.

The shores of Ulthuan glittered on the horizon. Malekith saw the shimmering haze in the air that he remembered so well. It was the glow of magic that hovered perpetually over the island continent and had done ever since the time of the Archmage Caledor. The whole mighty fleet cruised along the coast now, heading for their goal.

Beside him his generals looked grim or pleased or filled with anticipation according to their temperament. Some of them directed lustful bemused looks towards N’Kari, who now wore the form of a lustrously beautiful elf maiden. Her shackles in particular seemed to focus their attention. Malekith easily guessed which direction their thoughts were taking.

Slaves walked through the chamber bearing platters of food and drink, their eyes downcast submissively as they attempted to avoid drawing any attention to themselves. Today it worked. The assembled nobles paid them no more attention than they would any other piece of furniture.

There was a certain febrile festival atmosphere about the command chamber. All of those present knew that war was about to begin and that it was going to be hard, but all of them also believed they were going to win. None of them knew the full extent of his preparations but all of them knew him, and they knew he would not have launched this attack unless he was utterly certain of victory.

They sipped drugged wine and smiled and calculated spoils. A few of them discussed reclaiming ancestral estates that had been lost millennia ago.

Malekith deliberately said nothing to damp down the conversations about reward. He wanted to foster this atmosphere of feverish competition and greed. His lack of intervention was duly noted by those who had spent a lifetime watching him for the slightest clues as to his whims. He knew that eventually the message would spread to all present in the fleet.

Sometimes he noticed the sorcerers present turn their gazes on N’Kari for a moment. The most powerful present blanched and fell silent and that too was noted by the audience he had assembled. And that too was good. He was giving them all a demonstration, making a statement of how powerful he truly was. Word of that would get out too.

And in the inevitable druchii fashion it would filter its way down to every rank of the army. All of them would know that their lord and master had bound a greater daemon of Chaos to his will. They would wonder about what other allies he could command.

He felt something like happiness at this moment. His plans were under way and he was confident of eventual victory. So far everything had gone as anticipated. He was not foolish enough to think there would be no setbacks or that everything would go according to plan, but he had amassed a sufficient concentration of resources and power to counter any threat that might arise. It was only a matter of time before Ulthuan fell, and after that he would deal with his remaining enemies.

Not a few of those present were his mother’s lovers and secretly sworn to her service. They thought him unaware of that fact and the time had not yet come to apprise them of their error. That day would dawn soon enough and Malekith was looking forward to it with relish.

One of the things he abhorred most was disloyalty.

Chapter Fourteen

‘
It seems like you have become a person of some importance,’ said Atharis. Tyrion looked at his old friend. They sat together in his office in the Emeraldsea palace. Physically, Atharis had not changed much from the young fighter Tyrion had met when he first came to the city all those years ago. His nose was still broken and he refused to have the healers use magic to set it properly. He was higher ranked in the House now and trusted with many secret duties.

‘While you have steadily been working your way down in the world,’ Tyrion said, smiling to take the sting out of his words. Atharis had made quite a name for himself among the brothels and stews of Lothern. He was also a very successful merchant, representing the family interests whenever their grandfather had chosen to send him.

‘We cannot all be blessed with the blood of Aenarion,’ said Atharis. ‘Some of us have to get by using only our natural intelligence and charm.’

‘That explains why you have been doing so badly then,’ said Tyrion. Atharis punched him on the arm playfully.

‘It is good to see you again,’ he said. He sounded sincere. Once, long ago, they might have been considered rivals but Atharis no longer seemed to see things that way. Tyrion was glad.

‘It’s good to see you too,’ said Tyrion. ‘I understand that we are to be travelling together.’

‘Your aunt could not allow you to travel to the court of the Everqueen unescorted. I am to be in charge of your retinue. I am responsible for seeing you don’t disgrace House Emeraldsea.’

And doubtless you are also responsible for reporting my actions to my aunt, Tyrion thought.

‘And how big is this retinue of mine going to be?’

‘Well Lady Emeraldsea feels you need at least fifty warriors to protect you from the marauding deer of Avelorn. You also need servants in order to make sure that your clothes look sufficiently impressive and that your hair is properly combed. So, you’re probably being accompanied by the crew of an entire fighting ship. Let’s hope that your participation in this tournament proves worth it.’

‘Let’s hope,’ Tyrion agreed sourly. ‘So am I getting a ship to go with the crew?’

‘Of course you are. Your aunt has rerouted one of our Inner Sea traders to make sure that you get there in time. We are even supposed to row you if the winds prove unfavourable.’

‘That’s good,’ said Tyrion. ‘Because you look like you could use the exercise.’

‘I’m still capable of giving you a good run for your money with the sword.’

Tyrion laughed. ‘I’m surprised my aunt isn’t sending you then. You could represent our House just as well as I can.’

‘Alas, Lady Malene does not see things that way. Otherwise I would gladly do so. Our new Everqueen is supposed to be quite the beauty.’

‘I have never heard of one who wasn’t,’ said Tyrion. ‘All of the poets always sing praises of their good looks and all of the books say how lovely they are.’

‘And, of course, no poet ever lied and no scholar ever propagated a falsehood,’ said Atharis. ‘You know this as well as I do.’

‘Is there anything else I should know?’

‘The protection of your sacred person is not the only reason that you’re being allocated so many fighters. You are bearing some coronation gifts for the new queen of the forest. Your aunt feels that she must be sufficiently impressed with the wealth and generosity of our House. Obviously the poor rustic girl is going to be swayed by our silks and gold and some pretty mirrors brought all the way from the dwarf lands.’

‘I imagine that we will not be the only ones bringing gifts,’ said Tyrion. ‘Every noble family in Ulthuan will be taking this chance to demonstrate its loyalty and generosity.’

‘Indeed. I often think it would be more profitable and sensible if we came to some arrangement with all of the other families not to do this sort of thing. Then we could keep the gold for ourselves.’

‘But gold is only a means to an end. How would we prove ourselves to be richer and more generous than all of our rivals if we did not give such gifts.’

‘Doubtless we would find a way. We are elves after all, famous for our ingenuity when it comes to proving our superiority.’

‘In the meantime,’ said Tyrion, ‘I suppose we shall have to go about doing so the old-fashioned way. After all, if it worked for our ancestors it should work for us.’

‘Indeed. We’re leaving with the tide. Let us head down to the docks and watch some other people working. I always find work very stimulating when I am not the one who has to do it.’

Tyrion watched as the crew loaded the ship. How often had he done this in the past, he wondered? There were times when he felt like half of his life had been spent aboard ships, going somewhere or returning to Lothern.

The vessel was anchored on the pier at Lothern’s northern docks. The Inner Sea was a different sea from the wild outer ocean. It was superficially calmer and safer, bounded on all sides by the landmass of Ulthuan, surrounded in its entirety by lands. There was less trade here, so the docks were smaller and less busy, but still bustling. Goods were shipped out to the rest of Ulthuan from here, and the produce of Saphery and Chrace and other places found its way to the great port, and from there to the rest of the world.

The ships here were smaller and more homely-looking than the great ocean-going clippers.

He saw his brother riding down to the harbour. As ever, no one paid too much attention to him. He was just another tall slender elf mounted on a fine steed. He was a terrible rider for an elf but still stood out less than usual. His limp made him noticeable when he walked. His twin rode right up to the pier and paused for a moment to study the ship. He waved and Tyrion waved back.

‘I see your brother has deigned to join us,’ said Atharis.

‘You don’t like him, do you?’ said Tyrion.

‘He never gives anyone much of a chance to like him. If he were less caustic, he might have more friends.’

Tyrion could not deny the truth of that. ‘His life has been hard. It is not easy to be less than perfect among elves.’

‘None of us are perfect,’ said Atharis. ‘Not even you. We don’t use it as an excuse to be rude to everyone else.’

‘I think he got into the habit of getting his retaliation in first when he was young. People were often rude to him because of who and what he was.’

‘I can tell you are going to go on making excuses for him,’ said Atharis. ‘He is no longer a sickly youth. He is a powerful mage and regarded as something of a hero among his kind.’

‘His kind?’

‘He is a wizard.’

‘He is an elf.’

‘It is possible to be both, my dear Tyrion.’

‘Mages are not a breed apart.’

‘You may want to explain that to them, my friend.’ Teclis limped up the gangplank, leaving his horse in the care of one of House Emeraldsea’s dockside factors. He saw Atharis and made a sour expression. Atharis responded in kind.

‘A pleasure to see you,’ said Teclis ironically.

‘I am as pleased to see you as you are to see me,’ Atharis responded. His smile was insincere, and obviously so.

Tyrion wondered at his brother’s talent for making enemies. Atharis was not the least amiable elf in the world. It would not take an enormous effort to keep on the right side of him. Instead Teclis seemed to take pleasure in being disliked.

‘You are ready to depart?’ Tyrion asked his brother, to forestall any further sniping. ‘You do not seem to have brought much gear with you.’

‘It is already on board. The servants brought it this morning. How about you? Are you ready to woo the Everqueen?’

‘If she is as beautiful as everyone says, yes. I am just not sure I am ready to be her champion.’

‘There are others who may have a say in that, your fellow competitors for the great honour of being in her service.’

‘You are in an unpleasant mood today, aren’t you?’ Tyrion wondered whether Teclis was being deliberately rude and abrasive because Atharis was present. He tended to adopt such a persona in public, even with his own brother. It was one of his less engaging habits.

‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I have had a rather disturbing and sleepless night.’ He shot Tyrion a warning glance so that his twin would know for certain that he did not want to discuss this further in public. ‘Now if you will excuse me, I would like to go below. There is some reading I must catch up on.’

‘Don’t let us keep you from your books,’ said Atharis. ‘I am sure you have matters of earth-shattering importance to consider.’

‘Oddly enough, I do,’ said Teclis airily. ‘I am sure you will hear of them soon enough.’

‘I cannot wait,’ Atharis said softly to the wizard’s departing back. Once Teclis was gone, he said, ‘It is hard to believe you are twins. You seem to have got all the good looks and charm in your generation of your family.’

‘Possibly,’ said Tyrion. ‘But he got the brains and the magical talent.’

‘I think you got the best of the deal.’

‘That might be part of the problem,’ said Tyrion.

‘You are not as foolish as you look,’ said Atharis.

‘
Why do you keep taunting Atharis?’ Tyrion asked. He stepped into the small cabin as soon as Teclis opened the door.

‘I don’t like him and he does not like me,’ his twin replied.

‘Perhaps if you were more pleasant to him, he would be more amiable.’

Teclis laughed bitterly. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘You do this to everybody. Most elves just ignore it but some of them respond very badly.’

‘And you think they might respond better if I was nicer to them?’ A note of mockery entered Teclis’s voice.

‘There is that possibility.’

‘There is no possibility,’ said Teclis with flat certainty. ‘Atharis does not like me because I make him uneasy. Most elves do not like me because I make them uneasy. I do not look right. I do not talk right. I am a cripple. I should have been exposed at birth. You know there is something to be said for the old ways.’ By the end of his speech, Teclis’s voice had become a high-pitched parody of the way most elves talked in polite conversation.

‘You are not a child anymore,’ Tyrion said. ‘No one talks to you that way and you do not have to talk to them as if they did.’

‘You really don’t understand anything, do you?’

‘Then make me,’ Tyrion said.

‘I am an outsider in my own country, Tyrion. I do not belong here and I never will. I am not beautiful. I am… flawed. I know it. Everyone else knows it. Elves do not like to be reminded they are less than perfect, that there is even the possibility of it.’

‘You exaggerate.’

‘Alas I do not. And you are in no position to tell me otherwise. They like
you
. You are what they think they themselves are. You are perfect.’

‘No I am not.’

‘Perhaps, but you look it, and this is a place where appearances are everything. You are a butterfly. I am a moth.’

‘Now I really don’t follow you.’

‘People like butterflies. They are bright, vivacious, good-looking. They are creatures of the day. People hate and fear moths. They are dark, night-going. They do not like to feel a moth’s wings on their face. Look closely at them and moths and butterflies are very similar creatures, but people feel very differently about them.’

Tyrion laughed. ‘I am trying to talk to you about the way you treat other elves and you start talking about moths and butterflies. Do you realise how strange that makes you sound?’

‘I am strange, Tyrion. I am an outsider. I am a magician.’

‘You are sure you are not a moth now?’

‘Don’t play the fool, brother. It does not suit you. You know what I am talking about. It’s cockroaches and ladybirds.’

‘Go on…’ Tyrion could not keep a certain amount of mockery from his voice.

‘They are both insects. People think one looks sweet. They are repulsed by the other. Look at them closely and they are the same except for colour. My basic point is that appearances matter. They colour what people believe. You look one way and I look another. You could be as rude as I am to any elf, and you would still get away with it. I could be polite as a courtier at the court of the Everqueen and they would still hate me.’

‘So you are using this as an excuse not to try?’

Teclis looked shocked. ‘Don’t you think I’ve tried? I tried so hard for so long that my face was frozen in a permanent grin. I might as well have had lockjaw. I tried as hard as I could and no one wanted to know. They still don’t. Keep that in mind before you judge me and come down on the side of
your
friends.’

‘I do not judge you and I never take anyone’s side against you. Surely you know that?’

‘I do not know that. You started this little conversation telling me not to be rude to your friend Atharis.’

‘I merely suggested that you might try being politer to him, and you might get on better. I am trying to help you.’

‘I will thank you not to.’

‘As you wish,’ Tyrion said. ‘But I think you will find that if you give other elves the chance, they will give you one.’

‘You never give up, do you?’

‘That is my nature.’ They looked at each other for a long moment, their expressions frozen in looks that were almost of hostility. Tyrion did not quite understand how, but his well-meant advice seemed to have pushed them to the brink of a serious disagreement. He realised that he had misjudged things and that he did not know his twin as well as he thought.