Kingdoms of the Night (The Far Kingdoms) (18 page)

Where his father had worn or more frequently toyed with a simple gold band for his diadem, Gayyath had an elaborately worked crown with jewels and other stones on it. After hearing of his seraglio I’d half expected him to be surrounded with members of his harem, but he hadn’t, at least not yet, let himself slip to
that
level of display.

I’d expected Chares to announce us but was surprised when the King’s voice boomed:

“Lord Amalric Antero of Orissa and Lady Lycus of Vacaan, who now prefers to be known as Lady Janela Kether Greycloak, you may approach us.”

Once more I was surprised — either King Gayyath was a ruler who paid more attention to detail than I’d imagined, or else someone believed our arrival was of importance and we should be honored, or, at any rate, set out from the crowd.

His voice was a wonder, a deep, booming sonorous tone that a herald, an Evocator, a magistrate or a general would have spent years of servitude to learn. As we later learned, when he spoke everyone would marvel at what he said — until they tried to find some meaning of which there was most often none.

Janela bowed and I stood erect as King Domas had told me to behave, long years ago.

“I welcome you to Vacaan,” Gayyath went on, “may your stay here be fruitful and pleasant and the granting of your every wish within our powers.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a bustle and Lord Modin was beside the throne. His face showed the anger it had a few minutes ago, then he forcibly blanked it and smoothed a courtly smile.

Gayyath nodded to him. “This is Lord Modin, gentle folk. My good friend and most trusted advisor.”

Modin bowed slightly. “I thank you, your Highness. I too am delighted to meet our travelers.”

 We exchanged bows. His eyes swept me, then held on Janela. These at least bore no resemblance to a hedgerow creature, but sent out the strong, burning black stare of a master Evocator. You were intended to do his bidding, his eyes said, without question or hesitation and he knew your every secret.

Then he said, “The King and I wish to express our sorrow for the loss of your factor who was also, I understand, your friend.”

“Yes, yes,” Gayyath said. “That merchant fellow. I think I remember meeting him, didn’t I?”

Now I had the answer — Gayyath was merely well rehearsed. I wondered why Lord Modin had wanted him to be so courteous, as if our appearance was important.

“You did,” Modin said to the King, “but you hadn’t seen him for some time and you’d expressed your regrets not long before he met his unhappy fate.”

“Of course, of course,” Gayyath rumbled. “So how goes Orissa? Well, I hope and I also hope you haven’t brought any problems to us that you want us to solve. Have our own muddles and troubles, as you can see.” He waved vaguely at the simulacrum.

“No, your majesty. All we want is a favor.”

“That’s all anyone seems to want,” Gayyath went on. “And then those damned favors turn into a small estate and then a bigger estate and some land for the family and perhaps some gold and oh yes could you add in a company or perhaps a regiment of soldiers...” He let his voice trail off into what I swear were echoes.

“Actually,” Janela said, “what we need is even less than a favor than a simple permission.”

Gayyath’s eyes held on her and I was reminded he might have appeared a vaporing indulgent but he still sat the throne of the most powerful kingdom in the known world and there had been no successful attempts at usurption.

“You may ask.”

“We wish permission,” Janela said boldly, “To sail east.”

“Why? There’s nothing but ocean. The gods don’t favor such expeditions. My own father once talked of such an event that’d happened... hells, I disremember, but it must have been before his father’s father’s father’s time. Came to some sort of bad end or else just disappeared. Besides Lady, as one from Vacaan you know nothing good comes from looking east. Never has, never shall.”

I decided to intervene. “Your majesty, we wish you to indulge a foreigner, myself, and Lady Greycloak. As you can see I am drawing on in years and have a deadly fear of dying of boredom in my own bed.”

“Not I,” Gayyath said. “I hope to pass on in that very place, but not of boredom.” He snickered lasciviously.

“I am not a king,” I went on, “but a merchant and a traveler and one who’s happiest when he’s gazing on sights he’s never seen before.”

“Can’t understand that,” Gayyath went on. “Likely to be a swamp as anything else. And if the savages who live there aren’t trying to carve your liver for breakfast they’re in some sort of dream that they’re as civilized as we are. But I suppose it takes all kinds.”

He turned his attention to Modin. “Don’t your wizards have something to say about that? About going east, I mean? Isn’t that forbidden by some gods or other?”

“I know of no such ban for outsiders,” Modin said. “Of course, there is one for our citizens, your Highness. You recollect that is why we maintain a coastal patrol. But for foreigners, which I must say includes Lady Greycloak since she’s renounced her birthright, there has been none written into our laws or practiced as part of our customs.”

“Don’t like it,” Gayyath went on. “There’s nothing but evil to be found to the east. Everybody knows that.”

That
was the reaction we’d been expecting and had brought many arguments to try to change Gayyath’s mind. We’d even considered, if our plea was rejected, to chance going on anyway and risk the distant wrath of Vacaan’s sorcerers once they learned of our deceit. The mild interest and lack of concern from Modin was unexpected and I wondered greatly.

Gayyath suddenly yawned. “Not that it matters,” he said. “Like you said, foreigners do things like that. You deal with it, Lord Modin.”

“Thank you, your Highness. I know you have more pressing matters,” Modin said.

“Yes, yes.” Gayyath said, then smiled at Janela. “Whatever the decision is, Lady, I hope to see you again at court. You are most beautiful and beauty is something I vastly admire.”

We bowed, made excuses, said of course we wouldn’t leave without bidding farewell to the King and no doubt would be honored in his presence once more and were escorted to a lower level. I’d expected to be taken to a privy chamber by Lord Modin, at which time the issue would be thoroughly gone into. Instead he drew us aside to a railing.

“East, eh?” he mused. “Would there be any other motive, beyond the purest curiosity, you might wish to tell
me
that might’ve embarrassed you in front of the King?”

“None...” I let the pause grow artfully. “Except perhaps, one. I may be old but I am still a merchant. If we encounter anything that might be of commercial interest to Orissa...”

“...Then you must return here to Irayas and discuss the matter with a chamberlain to see if it’s proper to open trade and if such commerce is in Vacaan’s best interests,” Modin finished.

“Of course.”

Then came the last surprise — I’d expected him to dismiss us and say he’d given his answer later. Instead:

“As I told the King I know of no reason you can’t be permitted to undertake your voyage, although I do consider it most foolhardy. You are forbidden to take any citizen of our kingdom with you and any supplies you require must be paid for in gold, not taken in credit. As the King said, no one returns from the east and I wish to ensure there shall be no outstanding debt to sully the great name of the Anteros. Also, I request you sail within a fortnight.”

I frankly gaped, as did Janela, in the purest astonishment. Lord Modin let a smile slip over his lips.

“King Gayyath’s father allowed business to take forever,” he said. “We have introduced newer methods. When a decision is obvious there is no reason to not make it immediately.

“So you have our permission. But as the King said, please make sure you attend some of our court events. You’ll find them enjoyable, especially when you’re long days and weeks at sea with nothing around you but water and emptiness. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll have an escort return you to your quarters.” He bowed and hurried back up toward his disintegrating simulacrum.

Janela and I exchanged wide-eyed looks but said nothing as two Wardens approached and bowed.

It was too easy. First King Gayyath had been properly instructed as to our arrival, then the matter was brought up and quickly taken care of. It was almost as if our request was already known and a decision had been reached before our arrival. This boded not well.

There was something most wrong. We had better move fast.

There was actually little to be done for our ships to ready them for the expedition. The items consumed on the voyage out were made good and more supplies were high-stacked in any cranny that would hold them. Anything that had broken or badly worn was replaced and a suitable stock of trading goods was laid in, more to perpetrate the tale that we were on a trading mission than anything else.

We were waiting on one thing — for the proper phase of the moon for a certain ceremony, a ceremony that could confirm our belief in the Kingdoms of the Night... or, like all magic, produce nothing but frustration. The proper day was only two weeks distant.

It was as well we’d brought almost everything we needed with us, since Irayas was seething, dangerous and it was as well for foreigners to stay close to safety. We saw this when we ventured out from our island-castle into the commercial areas of the city. I’m not quite sure how to put this — Irayas was still the most magnificent city I’d ever known, where even the lowliest street could be paved in polished porphyry transmuted by one of Vacaan’s sorcerers from humble cobblestones and storefronts decorated lavishly with precious and semi-precious materials.

But now it looked as if the city hadn’t been maintained, as if the maintenance workmen no longer took their tasks to heart and were content to let a little rust show, a little grime appear and a cracked window to wait awhile before being replaced.

The people were different as well. They stared more openly and were more likely to comment on anyone wearing expensive dress than before... and weren’t unwilling for their jibes to be overheard.

Quatervals put it best — “It’s as if they’re waitin’, for what I’m not sure, but I don’t want to be around when it gets here.”

We went out in groups, pairs at the least and never alone. Janela, in spite of her protests, was companied by Chons, who seemed to have an entirely different idea about the uses cutlery could be put than most gardeners.

Frequently, however, she slipped out without him and said, innocently, when I chided her that “one can be invisible, two never.”

She was busy on a series of rather mysterious errands and I was reminded of her great grandfather’s routine many years ago when we set out on my Finding. But Janos’ secrecy in Lycanth had been necessary since he was purchasing magical implements in a time when their possession by anyone other than a licensed Evocator was forbidden. But here in Irayas it didn’t seem to matter. Finally, I found out she’d been deluged with invitations from Irayas’ sorcerers.

At first, I thought they were eager to hear about what mysteries she’d learned in her studies and travels but was quickly reminded that magicians here, like other citizens of Vacaan, felt there was nothing but barbarism and ignorance outside the borders. The invitations were primarily out of curiosity and to break the boredom of seeing the same old wizards at the same old gatherings.

Janela fell into the habit of coming by my rooms when she returned from an event, having a final glass of wine or brandy and talking — sometimes about what had happened, sometimes about what we hoped and thought lay ahead and sometimes just... talking. She was, like her grandsire, a good taleteller and better listener. I found myself talking about things I never had before, things that had happened after the events in my book I’d never told anyone other than Omerye or things that’d occurred after her death.

One night Janela came back from a magical conclave a little drunk and a great deal angry. She slid her bag and blade off, poured a full beaker of brandy and slumped down in a chair.

“I’ve just spent the dullest blasted evening of my life... worse even than when I was a mere acolyte had to listen to my masters expound on why the stars had more influence over my fate than I myself.”

“Who were you guesting,” I wondered.

“Grand Wizard Euboae, who’s the wisest and most respected wizard of them all, sitting drooling in his senescence surrounded by equally dung-brained disciples. None of them know a thing! Janos was right when he said there are no smart fellows in this kingdom. Every one of them does things by rote, with no change from his grandfather’s time to the present.”

“You do sound like a Greycloak,” I said, grinning.

“Right now I’m so sick of these hide-bound fools that I’m to wonder about my great grandfather. If Janos was so wise, why did he so easily spring Raveline’s trap?”

My smile vanished — I saw that Janela wasn’t just exercising her temper, but was seriously upset.

“Why single him out?” I asked that in my mildest tone.

Janela looked at me, then away at the open window and the lights of Irayas. I thought I could see moisture glisten in her eyes.