Flight Into Darkness (67 page)

Rieuk gazed down at the crystal and felt it come alive in his hands with vibrant, pulsing energy. It lit the darkness and confusion of the Rift like a clear beacon. And then sound began to flow from the Lodestar—that thin, high, celestial voice that he had first heard in Karantec all those years ago.

Then she had cried out to him of her urgent desire to escape the confines of the crystal, to be free. But now he heard a new sweetness, a joy, and a purpose in her voice.

Nagazdiel lifted his head and his eyes no longer burned so fiercely
as he listened to his daughter's song filling the Rift with its luminous purity.

The shadowy outline of a great gateway appeared in the darkness. Nagazdiel turned and walked toward it, disappearing into the shadows. Azilis's song continued to fill the Rift, but as they watched, the gateway slowly faded from sight until there was no trace that it had ever been there.

CHAPTER 15

Jagu had kept alert until now by willpower alone, ignoring the throbbing pain in his crushed hand. Suddenly a wave of faintness washed over him and he staggered, dropping to his knees.

“Jagu!” He heard Celestine's cry of alarm as if from very far away; the world around him seemed to be dissolving into mist…

Someone caught hold of him with a strong, reassuring grip. A face, hawk-nosed, dark-skinned, hovered above his. “Magus…”

“My name is Aqil,” he heard the magus say, “and I am trained in the arts of healing. I can see that you've been badly injured. Perhaps there is something I can do to alleviate your pain.”

“Aqil?” The name was familiar but as Jagu wavered in and out of consciousness, it was a while before he was able to remember where he had heard it before. Hadn't Aqil been the magus who poisoned the water in the fort, forcing his regiment to retreat from Ondhessar? He came back to himself to see the magus binding his hand with fresh dressings.

“I will give you a salve to use twice a day to keep the wounds clean,” said Aqil, straightening up. “I cannot undo the damage that's already been done, but I can use what skill I have to save your hand.”

The excruciating throbbing had eased at last and as Jagu stared at the clean linen bindings, he even wondered whether there might be some hope that he could play again, one day.

“Thank you, Magister Aqil.” Celestine helped Jagu to sit up.

“You brought Azilis back to us,” said Aqil, “and for that we can never thank you enough.”

“The last time we met in Ondhessar, Aqil,” Jagu said, striving to find the right words to express his gratitude, “we were enemies. But I hope that this might be the beginning of a new understanding between us.”

“Perhaps,” said Aqil, with an enigmatic smile. “Let us hope so…”

Celestine and Jagu emerged from the tower into the Hidden Valley to see the last rags and tatters of the darkness dispersing, and the clear blue of early twilight revealed behind, with the first star gleaming overhead as brightly as the Lodestar.

Celestine let her head rest on Jagu's shoulder and he put his arm around her, glad just to stand together, supporting each other.

Kaspar Linnaius approached them. “I'm heading back to Lutèce,” he said. “Would you care to join me?”

Enguerrand entered the Great Hall at Plaisaunces and the assembled courtiers and councillors bowed as he walked up to the dais. He loathed the thought of having to go through with this ritual, much as he loathed most of the formal ceremonies of court life. But he had to make his will known in the presence of the nobles and the council; Eugene had impressed that upon him during their recent discussions at Swanholm. “Even if it means defying your mother.”

When the Emperor had come to bid him farewell, Eugene had embraced him before the court in a confirmation of the new bond between Francia and Rossiya. And Enguerrand had returned the embrace sincerely. “I shall never forget that you came to our rescue. I am in your debt.”

Eugene had laughed. “No talk of debts, please!” And then his expression had changed. “In Artamon's time, the Drakhaouls divided the sons of Artamon, but in many ways our Drakhaouls have drawn us closer together. I believe that now we understand each other a little better.” And with a cheerful wave, he had gone out into the palace gardens, where Linnaius was waiting for him.

As the sky craft rose up above the wind-tossed trees, Aude came to stand by Enguerrand's side, slipping her hand into his.

“I wonder if we shall ever see Linnaius again,” he said to her softly.

“Banish Maistre Donatien?” Queen Aliénor rounded on her son. “I won't hear of it! I refuse to allow it. If you banish him, then I shall go too.”

Enguerrand stared at her through his new pair of spectacles, seeing all too clearly the defensive, stubborn look in her eyes. He sighed wearily. Her attitude toward him was never going to change.

“Very well, dear Maman,” he said, knowing full well that she hated to be addressed so familiarly in front of the courtiers. “You may retire from court to your estates at Belle Garde. But Messieur Donatien—and I remind you that I have stripped you of the title and office of Grand Maistre—you will leave Francia and never return, on pain of death.”

Hugues Donatien inclined his head, saying nothing.

Enguerrand was not finished yet. “Captain nel Ghislain, I understand that the Rosecoeur garrison at Ondhessar has been decimated by the Arkhan's forces.”

“According to the latest reports, your majesty.” Girim nel Ghislain stared straight ahead, not meeting Enguerrand's eyes. “Though it seems that Arkhan Sardion perished in the attack.”

“It's time to hand the shrine back to the Enhirrans.” Enguerrand spoke quietly but placing emphasis on his words. “And to restore the Azilis statue to its rightful place in the shrine at Ondhessar.”

“Now wait a moment, Enguerrand,” began Ilsevir, who, until then, had stayed silent.

“We are about to enter into talks with the new Arkhan,” continued Enguerrand, determined not to be interrupted. “He is of a more scholarly, peaceful nature than his father. I believe an understanding can be reached between our two nations that will bring an end to the bloodshed. And as a gesture of our goodwill, I want the statue returned, along with the other relics.”

Girim nel Ghislain bowed his head, but not before Enguerrand had glimpsed the expression that distorted his face: anger mingled with dismay.

“We are moving into a new age,” Enguerrand said, addressing the court. “An age of hope, even an age of enlightenment. I want to encourage the study of the sciences in our universities. I want to encourage the expansion of our nation, working with our new ally, the Emperor.” Exhausted by the effort of speaking for so long, he sat down. Yet to his surprise, he heard the sound of applause; his courtiers had received his speech with approval.

“An inspiring speech, your majesty,” said Chancellor Aiguillon in his ear. He was beaming approvingly. But Enguerrand's gaze was drawn to a portrait he had ordered hung in the hall. It depicted
Ruaud de Lanvaux, dressed in his ceremonial robes as head of the Francian Commanderie, with the Angelstone on a gold chain around his neck.

“I think you'd have been proud of me today, dear Maistre,” he said under his breath.

“Are you certain, Doctor?” Adèle, sitting up in bed, gazed keenly at Doctor Vallot.

“Absolutely certain, majesty.” Vallot said, smiling at her as he packed away his instruments.

“Oh, but now that my brother has returned, you mustn't call me ‘your majesty’ anymore,” she said.

He looked horrified. “Forgive me, highness—”

“No, forgive me; it was rude of me to tease you so, and just when you've delivered such excellent news.”

“Excellent news?” Ilsevir had just entered the bedchamber. Ever since Enguerrand's return he had been plunged into a depression, hardly saying a word to anyone, and she looked at him anxiously. “Is my wife fully recovered, Doctor?”

“I don't believe she was ever ill, highness, unless pregnancy can be counted as a disease.”

“Pregnancy?” Ilsevir's face altered instantly as he let out a shout of delight. “But—but that's wonderful!” He hurried over to her bedside and kissed her. “When is the baby due?”

Adèle felt herself blushing with pleasure at his reaction. “Early autumn.”

“Nevertheless, given the princess's delicate state of health, I don't recommend that she undertake the journey back to Allegonde until the pregnancy is well established and there is no risk of another miscarriage.”

“I may have lost a kingdom”—Ilsevir took her hand in his— “but, God willing, it looks as if I have gained an heir.”

Adèle glanced up at him anxiously but saw that he was still smiling. She squeezed his hand. The union between Francia and Allegonde had been annulled by the Francian Council and she knew that he had felt deeply humiliated. Yet the Emperor had managed to allay some of his grievances by setting up some carefully negotiated trade treaties that would bring new revenue to Allegonde.

“Is there anything you would like, Adèle?” Ilsevir said anxiously. “You have only to ask…”

“I really would like to tell Celestine,” she said with a little sigh. “Is there no news of her yet?”

Adjutant Korentan checked his orders again. The instructions came direct from Captain nel Ghislain and were succinct:

”
The statue
is to be returned to Ondhessar straightaway. Make all necessary arrangements.”

From time to time he had crept back to the secret place where Girim had ordered the disintegrating statue of Azilis to be stored while the copy was displayed in the Basilica shrine. He had felt it his special duty as a Rosecoeur Guerrier to watch over her even as she decayed. The statue was no longer a thing of beauty but to him it represented something infinitely more precious: a direct link with his beloved saint, Elesstar, carved out of marble that came from the land of her birth. It saddened him to see the ravages that the impure air of Allegonde had wreaked upon her perfection. Left in the dry desert air where she was first carved, she would not have begun to crumble away, he was certain of it.

He made his way through the musty cellar, lantern raised high to illuminate his path. Why, he wondered, did it feel as if he were lifting a sheet from a dead body?

“Forgive me, Blessed Elesstar,” he murmured as he raised the heavy cloth. Then the cloth fell from his grip as he took a step back, astonished.

Pale stone glimmered in the lantern's flame.

“Is someone playing a trick?” Korentan, recovering from his initial shock, stripped the cloth away and stared. For the Azilis statue lay there as if she were freshly carved from semitranslucent marble, whiter than milk, a vision of purity in the dank, musty cellar. Tentatively he put out a hand and touched the statue's cupped hands, his fingertips grazing hers.

The prince must have arranged for the statues to be switched overnight again. How else to explain this unmarred perfection where all had been discoloration and crumbling decay? Unless a miracle had occurred…

Acir Korentan dropped to his knees in the dust before the statue.

CHAPTER 16

On a summer's day of brilliant sunshine, Enguerrand of Francia attended Saint Meriadec's, accompanied by the Duke and Duchess of Provença and the king's betrothed, their youngest daughter, Aude. Grand Maistre Friard arranged a special escort of Guerriers of the New Francian Commanderie, led by Captain Philippe Viaud, all resplendent in their new uniforms of black and gold.

They had been specially invited by the Maistre de Chapelle to hear the first performance of his new work, which was dedicated to his patron, the king.

The players of a chamber orchestra, strings and woodwind, were seated before the altar, between the choir stalls, bows at the ready, reeds well moistened.

The Maistre de Chapelle stood in front of his musicians, twisting his baton to and fro between his fingers. He was not yet entirely accustomed to conducting. He would have felt far happier to be back in his old place, out of sight in the organ loft, but he had come to realize that the damage to his left hand meant he might never achieve the agility and accuracy of which he had been so proud. It could take years of patient practice to meet his own exacting standards at the keyboard but he was determined not to give up.