Riding the Serpent's Back (60 page)

Lachlan spread his arms as if to embrace him. Red glanced to either side at the staring Morani guards. He was sure their muscles were twitching, ready to strike.

He looked at Lachlan, who hadn’t moved.

And then he stepped forward into his nephew’s embrace.

It was like holding a wooden carving: it knew the position to hold, but could not even begin to understand the meaning of the gesture.

Red stepped back.

He went to stand by the balustrade and was repelled to find it warm to his touch, yielding as if it was a real snake and not merely carved from stone. Looking out over the gardens, with their enchanted fountains and the colossal, Charmed statue, he wondered at the vast amount of Talent that had gone into this city’s construction. There seemed little that had not been Charmed in some, often frivolous, way. He wondered what it would be like when the city was complete and the earth’s own magic was fully tapped.

He became aware that Lachlan was staring at him, so he turned and smiled. “You’ve achieved a lot,” he said. “When you’re gone your name will live on in legend.”

Lachlan shook his head. “Oh, I don’t want that,” he said. “I don’t intend to die, you see. When this city is complete its creators will be omnipotent: we must survive so that we can marshal and control the forces released. My grandfather, Donn, will be nothing compared to the Principals of Samhab.”

“And what will you do with it all?”

“Samhab is the city of the True,” said Lachlan. “When it is complete the real revolution will have started: the return of our world to how the gods created it at the start of this Era, the structure that embodies their design. Our world has become muddied, all the distinctions have become blurred. The True Families must be returned to their special status.”

Red peered through the writhing shapes cast by the water to the pyramidal statue. “And the rest?” he said.

“Everyone has their place in the embodied scheme,” said Lachlan. “All of the people of the Rift will be happier and more fulfilled when their role is more clearly defined and their aspirations delineated.”

“Your father seems not to think so.”

Lachlan shrugged. “My father has been deluded for many years. I once tried to cure him, to drive out the demons that possessed him. He refused my help. I hope one day to complete the cure.” He reached out and touched Red’s shoulder briefly. “It gives me great satisfaction that you have not meekly followed my father. We live in a world where it is too easy to follow a mad rebel, but that will all change. Come along. I have ordered a banquet in honour of your visit. It is a very special day for me: to meet an uncle about whom I knew so little until very recently.”

As Lachlan left the balcony, his Morani bodyguards closed in to form a human shield two bodies thick. Red was allowed to walk at his nephew’s side, with Pieter and Estelle immediately behind.

They passed through more corridors and archways, but Red saw little through their moving, human screen. He wondered how much Lachlan could ever see of all the finery of his palace if he was always so closely protected.

Red knew they must have entered the banquet hall when they passed through another tall archway and he heard a sudden swell of voices and music. The guards peeled away from the front and, as Lachlan became visible, a hush spread around the hall.

Red stared out, stunned at the scale of it all. Ten long rows of tables filled a vast hall and around a thousand guests were seated, all staring loyally up at their Principal.

Lachlan nodded and the noise returned to about half its former level.

A long table was arranged across the head of the hall and the Principal’s party was seated here. Oriole was already present and she rose from her seat and held out her arms to Lachlan. He went to her and she stooped down and kissed him passionately before pulling away and leading him to his seat.

Pieter seated himself next to Lachlan, then Estelle and then Red. As each guest sat, a servant smoothed their clothes and arranged their hair. On Red’s left was a woman with a hooked nose and tiny dark eyes like those of a bird. She introduced herself as one of Lachlan’s co-Principals at Tule.

Red sucked his waist in even farther. It was barely starting to sink in that here he was, seated at the head table of Principal Lachlan Pas of Tule and Samhab, along with at least two other Principals and others he gathered were senators, senior priests, visiting governors. Even in Totenang he had never risen so high.

Sipping from a goblet of thick red wine, he leaned towards Estelle. He pointed towards a section of one long table where he had spotted Jon Pascal and the others. Even now, he barely recognised some of the people from the refuge without their disfigurements. “A little different from Coltsmore’s Haven,” he said, breathing in her heavy scent.

She kissed him on the nose and squeezed his arm. “What do you think would happen,” she said, “if I did my dance right here in front of everyone?” She giggled then, and he realised that she was quite drunk already.

The food came. An army of servants brought silver trays piled high with bite-size pieces of meat, pastries, dips, nuts.

Carefully watching those around him, Red took a few nuts and crunched them, then sipped at his wine. He knew how important it was to follow all the unwritten rules at such events. There was no cutlery, so he reached over and broke off a piece of pink fish and tasted it. Something smoky, but definitely not the salmon he had expected.

He spoke politely to the Principal on his left, learning that she was also a priest, that her name was Kalam Straith, and that she was the one who had nominated Lachlan for the Principal’s position made vacant when her brother had died.

After a time, Red found himself watching the party from the ophidy refuge. They were getting quite boisterous in all the heat and excitement, their bawdy behaviour spreading to those around them.

Red nudged Estelle and pointed at their friends from the refuge. “They seem to be forgetting themselves,” he said.

He leaned forward and took a small, rolled up sliver of some kind of meat that was coated in fine, green strands. He bit into it and a sudden sweetness exploded in his mouth. The meat turned almost instantly to liquid and he swallowed, then washed it down with more wine.

As he held the remaining piece Estelle dipped her head and took it from him, her lips brushing softly across his fingers.

He turned at a touch on his arm.

The nasute Principal Kalam was smiling, proffering a gold dish filled with smoking grey leaves for him to sniff. He bowed down and inhaled, then sat quite still until his head had stopped spinning.

When he looked back, past Estelle, he saw Pieter swaying from side to side as Oriole licked something creamy off his outstretched tongue. She caught Red’s eye and winked.

For a few seconds, Red looked beyond her at Lachlan. The Principal was sitting quite motionless, looking out over the hall with a satisfied smile on his face. On his plate were the husks of a few nuts.

Red looked away.

Servants removed the depleted silver trays and replaced them with enormous platters loaded with slabs of roasted meat.

The sight of all this glistening flesh made Red feel queasy. He had been so intrigued by what was happening, he realised he had been picking away continually at the food until now he was quite full.

He looked at Estelle, who was sitting back in her seat. “Would you do me the service of loosening me?” he asked, turning half away so that she could reach.

She slid her hands up the inside of his jacket, freeing the ties of his corset one by one.

When she had reached the top, she dragged her hand down, one finger crooked so that the nail scraped a line the length of his spine. He gasped in pain and sudden pleasure, then saw Pieter watching them, sniggering.

The Principal took Estelle’s hand and sucked at her finger, cleaning it of any traces of blood and skin.

At a sudden retching sound, Red turned. Principal Kalam had twisted in her seat and was vomiting over the back of her chair.

He put a hand on her back and said, stupidly, “Are you okay?”

She turned and smiled, dabbing at her mouth with the cuff of her long-sleeved gown. Then she reached up and put a hand at the back of his head and pulled his face down towards hers.

He resisted, but she was strong and soon their lips pressed together and her tongue was in his mouth. She tasted sweet, exciting, and Red found himself responding eagerly until it was Kalam who had to break away, grinning victoriously.

Red looked round to see Pieter turning away to vomit behind his chair too. Then Estelle turned away, dipped her head and threw up the part-digested debris of her first course.

He felt dizzy as he sensed his own gorge rising. He was only half-turned when he threw up, spattering Estelle’s arm as she returned to face the table.

She laughed and glanced down. “Clumsy,” she said, then wiped her forearm lazily across his lap. He struggled to remember what he had decided to do: relax, enjoy, play the game. He scratched his chin and looked at her uncertainly, then smiled and made to kiss her.

She tossed her head out of the way and he found himself thrown forward with his face buried in her cleavage.

He looked up and Pieter and Oriole were laughing at him. Even Lachlan had turned to observe.

Somewhat sheepishly, Red straightened, and wiped the remaining traces of vomit from around his mouth. “Lovely meal,” he said. “So...so...” Nobody was paying attention so he fell silent, which was just as well as he had no idea what he had intended to say.

He reached for his wine, which had been refilled again. After a long, steadying drink, he leaned forward and pulled at a loose flap of meat on the carcass laid out before them. It came away with a rich tearing sound. He stuffed it into his mouth. He had never tasted anything so exquisite, from its smooth, yielding texture to the herby scent that rose up as he chewed.

He watched Estelle as she held a long bone daintily in her fingers so that she could nibble at the last tatters of flesh. Then he smiled and leaned towards her and bit a piece of meat from the bone.

Their eyes locked and he stretched his tongue out and licked the greasy juices from a length of the bone.

Estelle started to do the same, turning it between her fingers, their tongues probing and exploring, meeting and withdrawing, a blend of the meat’s juices and their mixed saliva running down their chins.

Down in the main part of the hall, a man was lying on one of the long tables, wearing only his boots. His body shone in the light of the hall, covered in juices and sweat and the saliva of the people who were all around him, leaning forwards, licking, chewing.

Estelle was watching too, then she squeezed Red’s leg and pointed farther down the hall to where a man knelt spreadeagled on the table as a woman fellated him.

He had seen some extreme forms of indulgence in his time at Pieter’s palace in Totenang, but never anything quite like this. All around the hall, the feast was going through some bizarre transformation with every variety of naked flesh and meat on display.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked back into the face of Oriole. She kissed him, then turned and kissed Estelle. Then she drew their heads together, pressing them against her chest. “Enjoy,” she said lasciviously. “Indulge. You are witnessing the beginning of a new age for the True Families.”

Suddenly a wild scream tore through the hall, followed by raucous laughter. Red pulled away from Oriole’s embrace and stared down to where he had seen the couple indulging in fellatio.

The man was writhing about in agony, blood fountaining out of his groin. Nearby, his partner sat contentedly chewing on a mouthful of something Red dared not think about too closely. All around people were pointing and laughing.

Red glanced at Estelle and saw the eagerness in her eyes. Then he looked back and realised the man was laughing, not screaming. He writhed about hysterically as another man lowered his head and started to lap at the blood pumping out of his groin.

When Red felt someone pulling at his clothes he turned again. When his head had stopped moving it was as if the room kept going and it was some time before he realised that Principal Kalam was pulling his jacket away from his body, taking advantage of the fact that Estelle had left it undone at the back.

He shifted, and the jacket fell free. Immediately, Kalam was licking at his bare arm, so eagerly he could feel the drool running down to the crook of his elbow.

He slumped back in his seat as he felt Kalam’s teeth scraping over his flesh, as if probing for a weak spot. He knew he should be panicking, but all he felt was a sudden spasm of intense pleasure as, at last, her teeth sank deep into the muscle of his arm.

On the table, the sprawling carcass lay half-eaten. As his vision blurred, Red felt sure he saw the thing twitching, its rib-cage pulsing as if the heart still beat within.

There was a sudden commotion, then someone rushed past, climbing up onto Estelle’s chair which he now realised had been empty for some time.

His line of vision was interrupted by two bare legs, planted firmly on the table. He followed them upwards to take in the gently swaying body of Estelle, naked but for the snake wound around her midriff.

Pieter and Oriole cheered loudly as she started the dance Red had first seen at the ophidy refuge, and soon the entire head table was beating out the rhythm to which she moved.

Sudden pain tore through Red’s left shoulder as Kalam tore away a chunk of flesh with a wet flapping sound. When Red opened his eyes some time later, the Principal was sitting astride him, naked, pressing her mouth onto his so that he could taste his own flesh.

Relax, he thought.

Play the game.

He opened his mouth, took her probing tongue in deeply. Dragged his clawed fists down her sides, relishing the wet, bloody trail they left in their wake.

He couldn’t help but see Oriole in the periphery of his vision. She was staring at him intently, watching his every move, his every response.

He knew then that he was being drawn in deeper by Lachlan’s mage, so deep he would never be able to extract himself.