The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (327 page)

She indicated the men on either side of her in turn. Dacan was a bloodless looking specimen with prominent eyes and lips so thin Isak could barely see them, while Horotain, the tallest of the three, had probably been handsome once, when he was thinner and younger, but that was a long way past. In his effort to maintain his looks the Priesan now looked like the painted eunuchs Isak had seen in Tor Salan years back.

‘So you rule Vanach,’ Isak stated after a long pause. He had tasted the air, and he could tell she was no mage, just a frail old woman with kindly eyes – hardly the tyrant he had expected of Vorizh Vukotic’s deranged instrument.

‘That, my Lord,’ she said with the hint of a smile, ‘may yet depend on what comes to pass this night.’

‘You ten are the Sanctum?’

‘We are – the elders of the Fifth Enlightenment, appointed by our own to act in council for the glory of the Gods and the good of Vanach.’

‘Any of you also sit on the Night Council?’

Sorolis wheezed as she turned slightly to the scowling figure of Priesan Horotain.

‘Holding a grudge, my Lord?’ he asked. ‘We heard of the attack only after it had taken place. It was not ordered by sitting members of the council, I assure you.’

‘Do you know what I seek?’

‘I know what you will find.’ She gestured to the other members of the Sanctum. ‘To reach the Fifth Enlightenment is to know the mysteries of the Grand Ziggurat and Vanach itself. We are aware, my Lord, of what lies at the heart of our nation.’

‘And you’re bound to it,’ Zhia broke in suddenly, ‘compelled to obey – I can see the threads of magic that bind the throats of each of you.’

The old woman’s face tightened at that and Horotain purpled, but they could not deny it. ‘You are of the blood,’ Priesan Sorolis choked, fighting to get out each word.

Zhia took a step forward and smiled in a predatory way. The bloodless commissar, Dacan, cringed at her closeness, but he was apparently unable to retreat with her eyes fixed upon him. ‘I am of the blood,’ she confirmed, ‘and you chafe under my brother’s yoke, it appears.’

‘We are bound as his protectors,’ Sorolis confirmed reluctantly, ‘charged to see his will done.’ Her face hardened. ‘It is the sin we bear to see the will of the Gods done.’

‘And what of after?’ Isak demanded. ‘All your different councils, what will they do afterwards?’

‘That depends on your actions,’ she admitted. ‘The Night Council is not alone in fearing this new age; even within the Sanctum we have debated what upheaval this will bring, what new course the Gods will set us. The one that sleeps in darkness may be Vanach’s dark heart, but we remain true servants of the Gods. We will allow no man to divert us from the path of the Blessed.’

Isak bit back his instinctive retort. That she seemed to genuinely mean her words somehow disgusted him more. What little they had seen of Vanach hinted at the nation’s dark heart indeed, but that wasn’t Vorizh Vukotic, it was the cruelty they were willing to inflict on their own. Denunciation, starvation, sleep deprivation, torture, mass execution – Shinir had provided the details they couldn’t see as they rode past labour camps and abandoned villages – and the Commissar Brigade were unrepentant.

If Priesan Sorolis recognised the anger on Isak’s scar-twisted cheeks, she gave no indication. Instead she stepped to one side and gestured through the great gate that led into Vanach Settlement. ‘Come my Lord. The remaining tests await you.’

As she gestured, a dozen litters appeared, carried by unarmed soldiers. They were chairs, rather than the beds used in Narkang, but as with Isak’s visit to King Emin’s city, the lead litter was borne by eight large men, twice the usual number of porters, to account for his great weight. The chairs were all intricately decorated; when Isak saw the one intended for him bore stylised black bees of Death, he realised each displayed the totem animal of one of the Gods of the Upper Circle. He matched them in his mind, taking a moment to recognise the seldom-seen white lynx of Alterr and hare of Kitar. More litters were brought up for the Sanctum members, these painted black, with the same designs in gold.

‘And our horses?’ he asked

The old woman gestured and more soldiers trotted up to collect the reins of each. ‘Only the Black Swords may ride within Vanach Settlement,’ she explained. ‘Your horses will be stabled at their barracks nearby.’

And if you want to escape, you’ll be slower than our soldiers,
Isak finished in his mind, but his only response was a curt nod.

With a click of the tongue he brought Hulf to his side. He didn’t want the dog to follow, so he let a sliver of magic race over his skin as he crouched down to pull the dog close. He pushed his fingers deep into the hound’s fur and breathed in his warm scent.

‘Stay,’ he whispered into Hulf’s thick ruff of grey-black fur. ‘Wait in the woods for me.’

He felt the rune on his chest warm as the magic slithered out with his words, installing the command deep into Hulf’s animal mind. The dog whined in response, but Isak repeated his words and ran a palm over Hulf’s muzzle before nudging him away again. The dog sat as ordered, his ears down, his eyes on Isak as the white-eye took his seat in the litter. He knew Hulf would stay there until they were out of sight, but then he would run off as soon as any of the locals tried to go near him. He would be safer than the rest of them, most likely, away from danger and hidden by his tattoos.

Isak watched his comrades, far from surprised when Daken took the crow of Larat and Vesna the dragon of Karkarn – one unconsciously scratching at the Aspect tattoos on his chest as he did so, the other very deliberately touching the ruby tear on his face. To Isak’s surprise, Zhia headed straight for the Goddess of Fertility’s chair, running her fingers over the hare design almost as though testing her bathwater before she got in.

Doranei made for Nartis’ snake, while Shinir, appropriately in Isak’s mind, took Amavoq’s wolf and sat glaring at those taking note. The battle-mage Fei Ebarn, Leshi and Veil did not appear to care about which they chose, leaving Legana, Mihn and Tiniq all staring reluctantly at the remaining choices. When at last they too mounted their chairs, the horns sounded again and Isak’s bearers started off, leading the party through the great arch and onto a wide, deserted highway that led directly to the Grand Ziggurat ahead.

Isak looked up at the arch as they passed through. There were arrow-slit windows all the way up the huge stone arch, he realised, though it was so narrow he doubted there would be space within to draw a Farlan longbow.

Large, grand buildings, most several storeys high, lined the highway. Many had colonnaded open walks around the lower floors; the upper floors were supported by pillars, but they looked precarious to Isak as he passed. He noted again that the population was being kept well clear of the foreign visitors, warned to stay away by the constant blaring of the trumpets, perhaps. What Isak found notable about this elegant old city was the lack of life: those few people he had seen wore plain clothes, and only the Blessed were wearing any sort of adornment, while the houses and streets were almost dead, without the chaotic air of any city Isak had seen before. No clothes hung out to dry, no carts, or piles of wood or rubbish lay in the alleys between houses. There were market stalls of a sort around one block of building, but there didn’t look to be much for sale, and there was none of the accumulated everyday clutter a normal market would attract. These buildings might be offices or merchants’ stores, but it was remarkable how abandoned they looked.

‘So that’s the ziggurat,’ Daken commented from behind him. ‘Big bugger, all right.’

Isak looked ahead to the rising shape in the distance. Part of Vanach was built on the water of the lake itself, extending out from the shore towards the two islands that formed the heart of the city. None of Chief Steward Lesarl’s agents had ever returned from Vanach Settlement itself, but Prefect Darass had been more than happy to fill in some of the blanks for Isak.

More than half of the nearer island was covered by the Grand Ziggurat itself, on each of the stepped levels of which were shrines to many Gods, each one as large as the temple of any lesser God in Tirah.

The larger, fortified island behind housed the twelve High Temples, which rivalled any in the Land, according to the Overseer of Toristern.

And furthermore, there were shrines to a hundred more Gods and Aspects scattered throughout the city, each one obliging every passing citizen to speak a prayer there before moving on.

Isak looked away. The ziggurat was a nagging burr at the back of his mind, but the strange state of the city nagged at him even more; it was so unnatural it was almost otherworldly. Though he could see hundreds of the silent, watching citizens of Vanach, they could have been ghosts for all he could touch them, ask their names or understand their lives.

Is this the presence of Termin Mystt? Has it seeped into the city and turned everything awry, or is it just my own fears haunting me still?

‘What’s fucking wrong with all of them?’ Daken wondered aloud, voicing Isak’s own question.

Beyond the streets they caught a trace of the more normal sounds of a city, but the horns continued to blare, and everywhere within sight remained still and quiet. Squads of Black Swords stood at every street entrance; their presence alone was enough to instil a tense, sullen silence in the citizens.

‘They’re frightened,’ Zhia replied. ‘Most people are wary of change and these, well, they no doubt fear change as much as they do life staying the same.’

‘Sounds gutless to me,’ Daken said, turning to stare at the nearest party of armed Black Swords. They were all young, aside from a sergeant who’d likely not seen anyone more scarred than himself until Isak was carried past. ‘Livin’ like frightened rabbits their whole lives.’

‘You think they should choose death instead?’ Zhia asked contemptuously. ‘They have no leaders, no weapons, no safe means of contact with others who might feel the same.’

‘Don’t even look like they’re tryin’,’ Daken grumbled. ‘No kind o’ life if you ask me.’

‘It wouldn’t be your life,’ Shinir said. ‘White-eyes are given immediate advancement in the Black Swords – you’d be one of the oppressors.’

Daken laughed loudly. ‘Aye, sounds more likely. Tough shit fer the rest, then!’

As the sky darkened, Isak tasted magic on the air and turned quickly to see bright flaring lights appear in the centre of several units of Black Swords. They had encountered no mages throughout their journey, and Zhia had confirmed that none had been watching them from afar, but the exact status of mages there was unclear, despite the construction of the ziggurats and the arch they had just passed under.

‘That answers one question,’ Zhia commented, looking the same way.

Isak nodded. ‘I’d expected Vanach’s Commissar Brigade to be like the Knights of the Temples, to ban magery whenever they can.’ He didn’t have to open his senses to know the hissing torches now carried by each Black Swords squad had been made by mages – the energies leaked out of them like dirty trails of smoke, tasting bitter and ashy at the back of his throat.

‘The Devoted are a blind and stubborn lot, so proud of how the rest of the Land sees them. Here, where the Sanctum and councils rule absolutely, necessity perhaps trumps such lofty ideas. Those torches are not made to last. And look around us.’ Zhia gestured to the city at large, and Isak saw the spitting white lights at every street corner, and forming the perimeter of a circular patch of open ground ahead.

‘There must be hundreds of them – and the ziggurat is similarly lit; I can taste their sparks throughout the city. Somewhere there are dozens of mages hard at work. And considering we’ve not met one in any position of authority …’ She didn’t bother to finish her sentence.

‘Do you mean the Commissars’ll hold any magery against us? A bad example for their slaves?’ Isak asked.

‘I mean nothing as yet,’ she replied. ‘There would be too much speculation involved. But I doubt we’re in danger because of it. Vesna and Legana most obviously look like Raylin mercenaries to the untrained eye, yet they’ve not caused us a problem thus far. You are already keeping a check on your powers. All I can suggest is we continue not to provide anyone with a reason to turn on us. Some contradictions of dogma can be ignored by absolute rulers, but it’s never sensible to push the matter.’

‘So let’s just be thankful we’re not being escorted by a cadre of slave battle-mages,’ Vesna added.

Isak didn’t reply as they came close enough to the open ground ahead to realise it wasn’t entirely empty. There was a large oval table set in the very middle, with six chairs around it. At a reverential distance, hands clasped and heads bowed, were five commissars of varying ages, dressed in the formal black coats that Prefect Darass and his deputy had worn. It was an incongruous sight.

‘Looks like it’s time for the fourth sign,’ Zhia said brightly. This was the one part of this trip she had been looking forward to, whatever the stakes: a challenge for her fearsome mind, and one no doubt designed especially for her.

‘What’s that again?’ Daken asked. ‘Mastery o’ tactics?’

‘Indeed, and given Xeliache is the most widely played game of strategy in the Land, I’m sure Vanach will have assembled some especially skilled players to test our Lord Sebe.’

Isak glanced around at her and saw she was smiling as much as he’d feared. He’d played the game only a handful of times, just enough to know breaking the board over his opponent’s head didn’t count as a win. He hadn’t the patience for games that took a lifetime to master, so he would have to allow a more skilled person to guide his hands here.

Even before the Last Battle and their curse, Vorizh’s little sister had been a master of the game, and Xeliache – Heartland, in the Farlan dialect – had led to her and Aryn Bwr, the last King of the Elves, becoming lovers. To fulfil this sign, Isak would have to allow the immortal vampire into his mind.

‘Let’s get this over with,’ he growled, and got up from his chair.

Two commissars shuffled forward to meet them at the edge of the circle of ground. The crowd spread around the paved circle were largely Black Swords – but not all of them. Isak realised this was as close to the common folk of Vanach as he was likely to get. There was a dull uniformity to their clothing that was echoed in their wary expressions, but he did notice the women were all careful to cover their throats with a scarf.