What Lies Within (Book 5) (11 page)

   No! It was not past. He did not know that she was dead. And he loved her still, would love her always. Until he laid eyes on her corpse or was in receipt of some other irrefutable evidence he would believe her alive.

   And even then she would live on within him.

  
Is the afterlife that which we leave behind in others?

   Leth was surprised to feel a hand upon his shoulder. He opened his eyes, realized the tears were streaming down his cheeks, and found himself looking into the bright, moist eyes of Dame Anacissia.

   'She is alive, sir.'

  
'Wh- what?'

   'It is true, believe me. I sense her.'

   Leth stared at her, stupefied. 'How-- Who? Did I speak?'

   Dame Anacissia shook her head. 'You did not have to. But believe me, I sense her. The woman you love.
The mother of these two darlings. She is alive. And she seeks you. She seeks you! It is so.'

   Bicault, kneeling at his wife's side, nodded and said, 'It is true, sir. If Anacissia says it, believe us, it is true. She has the gift.'

   Leth was beyond words. They had been speaking of the Queen's reported disappearance. Had Anacissia and Bicault guessed his identity? No. Folk such as these would have shown a far greater reaction had they believed themselves in the company of the King.
   'Can you tell me more?' he managed to ask.

   Anacissia smiled but shook her head. 'I know only this much. But you should take heart. Truly you should.'

   Was it true? Leth scarcely dared to hope. a great wave of emotion was rising within him. He could only nod, and he reached out and put his hands upon Anacissia's and Bicault's shoulders and drew them to him. He knew himself to be in the company of friends, and no words were necessary. His head was a great weight. He laid it on Anacissia's shoulder and allowed his tears to flow freely.

vi

   Leth slept a sound and dreamless sleep that night, upon a mattress of sacking stuffed with straw, set upon the floor beside his children. When he woke it was early morning, birds were singing, he could hear Dame Anacissia pottering about in the kitchen and Bicault whistling outside.

   Galry and Jace still slept. Leth rose and stretched, buckled on his scimitar, and sauntered outside. It was a bright, chill, clear autumn morning. The sun, risen over the eastern forest, cast a million fiery, glittering gems upon the flat, barely ruffled surface of Wyslow Water. Leth descended to the water's edge, drew several deep breaths, savouring the bracing air and the feeling of being back in the land he had feared never to see again. Standing here he could almost believe the world to be an untroubled place.

   He had slept well and felt alert and refreshed. If no less aware of the many difficulties he still faced, he was heartened by Dame Ancissia's words last night. Was Issul alive? Was she seeking him as he sought her? His heart filled his breast. It was irrational to set such store in the words of a supposed clairvoyant, yet Anacissia's insight had been uncanny. No matter his doubts, Leth was instilled with a renewed hope and sense of purpose.

   On an impulse Leth stripped off his garments and waded into the lake. For several minutes he swam, until the bitter chill of the water became too much to bear. Shivering, he came from the lake and, lacking proper towelling, shook the water from his body as best he could and removed what remained with his overshirt. Then he dressed and went in search of Bicault.

   Bicault was in the small byre at the rear of the cottage, milking one of his cows. He looked up and grinned as Leth entered.
'Fair morning, Sir Clun. I trust you slept well? We did not disturb you, for we felt you needed the sleep.'

   'I slept very well, thank you, Bicault.'

   'Dame Anacissia is preparing a hearty breakfast for us all. And she will make something to sustain you on your journey. I would say, though, on behalf of us both, that you and your children are most welcome to stay another day or longer if you so choose.'

   'It is a tempting offer, Bicault, and I thank you. This is a beautiful, tranquil place. It is so easy to feel at one with the world and all nature here. I fully understand your reluctance to leave.'

   Bicault nodded wistfully. 'Aye, it is a beautiful place. I saw you swimming and knew you had found the magic of our land.'

   'Sadly we must be moving on. I have pressing business. Perhaps one day, when things are better, I may return and spend more time here in your company.'

   'We would enjoy that, sir. Truly. And you will bring the children too?'

  
'If it is possible, aye.' Leth grew thoughtful. 'Bicault, you and Dame Anacissia spoke last night of your hopes that the war might pass you by - or at least, that if the invaders come they will spare you. I said nothing at the time for I did not want to add to Dame Anacissia's fears. But I would be failing you if I did not warn you that I fear your hopes are unrealistic. If the invaders - the Karai - do come here, they will not spare you. It’s not their way.'

   Bicault finished milking the cow and sat back on his stool. His face had grown solemn. 'I know it. But we have nowhere to go, nor the means to survive should we leave.'

   'Then take this.' Leth unclasped a slender wristlet from his left forearm. 'The metal is gold, the stones precious. It is worth a minimum of twenty crowns. As with the ring, do not broadcast the fact that you possess it. There are many who would take them from you by any means if they knew of them. You can leave here with the money these will give you, and live well, very well, for a year or more in a land less troubled than ours.'

   Bicault shook his head. 'Sir, your generosity is extreme, but I cannot accept this.'

   'Accept it and go. Take Dame Anacissia and your son, Gorro, for as long as is required until the Karai are banished from our homeland. Then, and only then, should you return. Go north. Avoid the capital as long as the Karai are there. Take it, Bicault, and save yourselves.'

   He put the wristlet into Bicault's hands, at the same time aware that to travel beyond the borders of Enchantment's Reach into the lands of the Mondane would not be easy. The Mondanes had no love for the people of Enchantment's Reach, who they suspected of dark sorcery and weird deeds. Still, with funds to bribe a border guard . . .

   And once beyond the border Bicault and Anacissia could blend in without difficulty. But would the war follow them there?

   Bicault was turning the wristlet over in his hand, clearly in two minds.

   'I will say this also,' added Leth. 'I am well-connected in the capital. Should this crisis end and the Karai be vanquished, if you present yourselves at the Royal Palace of Orbia and speak your names and that of Sir Clun, be assured that you will be well-received. You may also be surprised. Ah, but I speak in hope of better days. For now, take heed of my warning, I beg you. Seek news of the Karai, and if they come close, save yourselves.'

   Bicault nodded. 'I thank you, sir.'

   He took up his milk-pail and together they returned to the cottage. Dame Anacissia had made a breakfast of porridge with honey and hot milk, followed by fresh fish poached in milk and butter, and warm bread. Leth roused the children and they all ate with good appetite.

  
When the meal was done Leth, with some reluctance, prepared to take his leave. There was a loud knock at the cottage door. Bicault frowned, and rose. Leth, uneasy, moved with the children into the shadows on one side of the room.

   Before Bicault could reach the door it flew violently open, kicked from outside. Dame Anacissia shrieked. A pair of Abyss warriors burst in, curved swords drawn. Bicault stopped dead.

   Count Harg strode into the cottage, repeating-crossbow balanced loosely at his hip. He peered about him. 'Ah, Swordbearer, there you are. What a coincidence. We lost your trail and were forced to continue almost at random. Sheer luck that we came upon the lakeshore and spied this charming cottage. How convenient that you are here too.'

   Leth came from the shadows. 'What do you want, Harg?'

   'Why, you, of course. What else? Master Urch is anxious to see you again. There are things he still wishes to say. You left rather abruptly, and I'm afraid you have rather raised his dander. And put down your sword, please. We don't really want bloodshed. I have three more fighters outside. You can't overpower us. So come quietly or I will murder these peasants. I'm sure you don't want that on your conscience, do you?'

   Leth, glancing to the window, saw that Harg told the truth. Three more pallid warriors stood upon the lakeshore. Leth lowered his scimitar.

   'Let it go, Swordbearer. Let it go.'

   'What of the children, Harg?'

   'Oh, I think Master Urch would very much like to see them again too. He has a very deep love of children, especially when they can serve as absolute guarantors of your compliance. As you know, he has plans for you.'

   Leth was sickened. What would Urch-Malmain now do to him? What would he do to Galry and Jace?

   Harg glanced around him. 'Ah yes, I see your armour there. I think we should take that. In fact . . .' He turned to Bicault. 'Peasant, have you a horse?'

   'A single mare, out back,' Bicault growled.

   'Good. We will take her. And some food for our journey. My warrior friends prefer their meat fresh and raw. Can you oblige?'

   'We've very little,' protested Dame Anacissia.

   'Perhaps we should slaughter one of your cows, then.'

   'Leave them, Harg. They are poor folk,' said Leth angrily.

   Count Harg shrugged indifferently. 'What is their poverty to me? Still, I suppose we can shoot something along the way. Just the horse and some basic provisions, then.'

   Half an hour later the mare was loaded with Leth's armour and various comestibles pillaged from Anacissia's and Bicault's cottage. Leth's hands were tied behind him. A noose was slung around his neck and the other end of the rope secured to the mare's harness. Anacissia and Bicault looked on helplessly. The children were permitted to walk beside Leth. With two Abyss warriors taking the lead and Count Harg at the rear the
party set off along the beach and eventually passed from sight into the forest.  

FIVE

i

   White wisps and wreathes of chill mist clung like ghosts about the multitude of towers and spires of the ancient city-castle of Enchantment's Reach, perched high upon the rim of the soaring leagues-long escarpment from which it took its name. With the climbing of the day's pale, far-off sun Enchantment's Reach had begun to stir. Those thousands who had come here, abandoning their homes in fear of the advancing Karai, slowly began to emerge from doorways and alleys and makeshift shelters where they had passed the night. Inexorably they filled the damp, chill streets, which still lay in shadowed dimness behind the massive outer walls.

   Far below the crowded city on its rocky heights the vast ocean of forest spread, stained with autumn tones of deep russet, tan and burnished gold, and was itself host to lingering pools and tendrils of mist, dense and white and still. And in the spaces between, where the forest also thinned, could be spied from the high battlements of Enchantment's Reach the busy mass of
Karai soldiery that had newly emerged in the long shadows, to swarm like ants about the road at the foot of the scarp, each gem-eyed warrior certain of his purpose and efficient in his individual task.

   It was a still day the day the
Karai came. Hardly a breath of breeze stirred the forest, and the mist was left to gradually burn away as the sun rose higher. Everything seemed suspended bar the unheard exertions of the invaders below. The mass of the city's populace was as yet ignorant of their arrival, but the city-gates had failed to open this morning and the flow of refugees up the twisting scarp road had abruptly ceased. Where would they go now that Enchantment's Reach was denied them? There was only the north, across wildlands and harsh mountainous forest into the kingdoms of the Northern Mondane, where they were not welcome. The frontiers would almost certainly be closed, for the people of the Mondanes were superstitious and fearful of the folk of Enchantment's Reach, perceiving them as otherworlders, tainted and possessed by dint of their proximity to Enchantment. The Mondane Kingdoms, which between them - and together with Enchantment's Reach - might have assembled an army that was in theory capable of meeting the Karai and at least stemming their advance, had chosen to remain aloof. The refugees of Enchantment's Reach would make for inhospitable borders and be turned away, left to fend for themselves.

   These thoughts and others occupied the mind of Pader Luminis, Imperator of the Arcane College and Lord Protector
pro tem
of Enchantment's Reach, as he stood upon the lofty battlements and gazed down upon the industrious enemy warriors so far below. At his side was Kol - the companion who Queen Issul had brought with Shenwolf and Phisusandra on her return from Karai imprisonment and who was now assigned as bodyguard to Pader Luminis - and two of Enchantment's Reach's senior knights and Crown Advisors, Sir Almric and Sir Grenyard. A squad of Orbia Guards stood at alert on the rampart close by.

   Pader Luminis's brow was knit. He had removed the round-lensed spectacles he habitually wore indoors, so that he might focus more accurately on the activities at the foot of the scarp. His long-sight was clear and even unusually acute, whereas deprived of his spectacles he could see little that was immediately in front of him.

   That the Karai were finally here was no surprise; their arrival had been anticipated for days. But when he had been woken with the unwelcome news in the dark hours of this morning Pader's stomach had churned and he had been visited by a feeling of profound disquiet. This was the moment he had been dreading most since accepting the temporary office of Lord Protector. He was not a military man. The immediate fate of the realm had been placed in his hands, but now he must pass much of the major decision-making to others whose lives had been spent in the command of fighting men.

   Enchantment's Reach had known no serious conflict for several generations. Isolated border skirmishes with one of the Southern Mondanes had been quelled more than fifteen years earlier, with never the massed clash of men and steel. Since then the army had played little more than a policing role, battalions sometimes hunting down brigand bands and occasional mercenary groups who had wandered into outlying
towns intent on plunder. King Leth, and his mother Queen Fallorn before him had kept the soldiery well-trained, disciplined and alert, but the army was not large. True, its ranks had swelled considerably since Leth first made public his call-to-arms months earlier, when news of the Karai's campaign of conquest first reached Orbia. But so many had received scarcely more than basic training. They were besieged now by a numerically superior force of well-tested, battle-hardened veterans, bolstered by many victories and augmented by supernatural allies. If -
when
- battle was finally joined, could the men of Enchantment's Reach really hope to fare any better than the Karai's previous foes?

   The answer - and no one pretended otherwise - was no. Distasteful as it was to so many, the soldiers of Enchantment's Reach must remain behind the high fortified walls of their great city-castle. Such had been King Leth's instinct and firm instruction, and events at Giswel Holt had proved him right. The
Karai Prince, Anzejarl, was cunning. He had lured Duke Hugo out and Hugo had paid the price. There had been no further report from Giswel Holt. Anzejarl had permitted messenger pigeons to fly for as long as it took to deliver the news and dishearten the defenders of Enchantment's Reach further. But none had come since. Was Giswel Holt embroiled in bloody battle or protracted siege? Had it already fallen? There was no way of telling.

   Pader's gaze shifted from the activities of the
Karai, across the far sea of tree-tops into the misted distance where the mountains of Enchantment lay hidden.
Issul, my sweet child,
he thought to himself,
are you safe? Did you elude the Karai? Are you any closer to achieving your goal and returning to us?

   Queen Issul had been gone five days. Pader calculated that she should have had time to strike out towards Enchantment without risk of encountering the oncoming
Karai army. But if Prince Anzejarl had sent strong advance units ahead of his main force . . . and they already knew, from the evidence of the secret Karai camp, that Karai special forward units were emplaced in the region.

   Issul's force was fifty
strong, comprising some of Enchantment's Reach's finest. Pader could only hope they would be capable of fighting their way free of any elements of the Karai that they could not wholly avoid.

   And if so, where was she now?

   Pader recalled again his astonishment when the Queen had revealed to him the true nature of the blue casket and its extraordinary occupant, Orbelon; the fate of Leth and Prince Galry and Princess Jace; the message of the old woman of the
Hir'n Esh
, Arene, and the mystery of the Soul of the Orb, taken and hidden long ago somewhere in Enchantment. Learning all this Pader had agreed with little hesitation that the only chance of saving Enchantment's Reach lay in Issul's riding forthwith to Enchantment with Orbelon, in the so slender hope of locating and recovering the Soul of the Orb.

   But oh, what a task lay before her!

   Pader felt the welling of tears behind his eyes as he thought of it. He worried about her. She was so young. She had been his student for many years, from early childhood. He knew her so well, and loved her more. He could not bear to think of her coming to harm. Nor Leth, nor the children. No one should have to face so much.

   Had Issul reached Enchantment? If she had met no trouble along the way then Pader believed she would have. She had explained roughly the location of the secret
Karai camp where the doorway into Enchantment lay, the Farplace Opening. But even then her task was barely begun.

   What would she find?

   And what of Grey Venger?

   Issul had remained deliberately tight-lipped regarding her plans for the leader of the True Sept. Pader believed her plans were in fact vague and hardly formed, but he did not doubt that, reluctant though she was, she had taken Venger with her, if for no other reason than to keep him from Lord Fectur's clutches.

   And the Legendary Child?

  
Ressa's son; Queen Issul's nephew. The spawn of a god.

   Pader had spent many hours bent-necked in the library of the Arcane College, researching the mystery of this unknown and the linked references Grey Venger had made to the One True God and the King
Without A Soul. He had dispatched agents into Overlip to attempt to infiltrate the True Sept and glean something more of the knowledge they claimed to possess about the Child's coming. Neither approach had provided enlightenment. Where the Child and the True Sept were concerned, in the end, as with so much else, Pader could do little more than wonder.

*

    At Pader's side Sir Grenyard was pointing. Pader, brought from troubled reverie, followed the direction of his finger. 'What are they doing?'

  
'Erecting defences. They command the road both ways and build ditches, entrenchments and palisades to deter us should we think of sending a force down.'

   Beyond the orderly mass of
Karai pioneers on and beside the road a small company, conspicuous by the colourful banners at its fore, had ascended a low green knoll.

   'Anzejarl!' breathed Sir Grenyard.

   Pader Luminis peered intently. At such a distance the figure of the Karai Prince was little more than a minute, undistinguished fleck. Even so - and it was probably no more than imagination - he seemed to stand out, and Pader had little doubt that it was Anzejarl he gazed upon. From what he could see Anzejarl was garbed in dark robes. His face seemed to be turned upwards towards the prize he so coveted, Enchantment's Reach and the Palace of Orbia within.

   Pader half-imagined he saw the white, fissured face and the glitter of Anzejarl's jade and blue eyes in the weak sunlight.

   Years earlier he had briefly met the Karai prince. Pader had taken part in a diplomatic mission from Enchantment's Reach to the Karai capital, Zhang. There he had been brought before Anzejarl's father, King Anzevord, both at a banquet in the King's Palace and an official colloquy in the royal court. Prince Anzejarl had been present both times. He was a boy of twelve or thirteen, being schooled for leadership. Even at that age Pader had been struck by his presence. There was an intense brooding air to him, and Pader had perceived a fierce, uncompromising intelligence. Anzejarl's face had been a mask, like all Karai. Outwardly, at the colloquy at least, he appeared to suffer from boredom, yet Pader had the impression that nothing passed him by. Anzejarl listened, observed and assimilated, knowing the value of every moment. A boy he might have been, but he was far from being a child.

   Would Anzejarl remember Pader now? Pader felt a queer sensation as he gazed down upon the
Karai prince. As though the two of them were somehow linked, as though his visit to Zhang all those years ago had somehow been the catalyst that had brought Anzejarl here today.

   Pader quickly dismissed the thought as irrelevant and absurd. He concentrated his gaze the more. There was a person at Anzejarl's side.
Of slighter build? Crowned with hair of lustrous red? Or was he deluding himself into seeing what he now expected to see? For this would be the woman that Orbelon and Queen Issul had spoken of before their departure. This would be she who empowered Anzejarl. She who Orbelon had declared could be nothing more nor less than the servitor or sorcerous fabrication, simulacrum or projection of one of the Highest Ones of Enchantment, those beings, never before met, who were commonly regarded as gods.

   'Then it is against her that we must somehow direct our efforts,' Pader had said, unconsciously echoing King Leth's own words when he had first learned of the character of the
Karai prince's consort.

   And Orbelon had replied in the same tone in which he had replied to Leth. 'You cannot destroy her. As far as you are concerned she is indestructible.'

   Orbelon had added something. He considered it virtually certain that, for Anzejarl's consort to maintain her powers outside of Enchantment she would be equipped with some form of magical artefact: 'to renew her essence, allowing her to persist in the formed world without suffering the enfeeblement that comes as a natural consequence of operating beyond Enchantment. Also there will be something by which she controls Anzejarl and allows him to command his Enchantment-creatures. The objects may be separate, or perhaps one artefact performing both functions.'

   Pader had wondered. He wondered again now, and knew the futility of such wondering. Consultation with his advisors had confirmed the implausibility of getting anyone close to Anzejarl and his consort. The idea had been dismissed virtually out of hand.

   And yet it was known that the True Sept had made contact with the Karai. What was not established was the precise form that contact had taken, and its result. More exactly, Lord Fectur had presented his account of what had taken place: he had brought into custody a True Sept member who he claimed had established relations with Prince Anzejarl. Fectur asserted that the man had died in his dungeons without revealing anything significant. But Pader was fully aware that Fectur might have learned more than he had seen fit to disclose.