The Wraeththu Chronicles (137 page)

"I don't feel safe here," Panthera decided once Lalasa had left us alone. "It all seems so genteel on the surface, but I feel that it is just on the surface, don't you? I feel as if it would be very easy to, you know, fall out of favor."

"Ah Thea," I replied, pulling the rank of my experience on him, "when I you've been in as many royal houses as I have, you'll realize they're all the same. Even Jael to a degree. A code of etiquette must be maintained, an elegance supposed to transcend the grubbings of humanity. As a race, you'll find that Wraeththu are suckers for pomp and circumstance; they love playing Olympians. You just have to know how to play the game to survive. It's not that difficult."

"Hmm, as I recall, when we first met, you were working as a kanene I after having 'grubbed' around the country for some time. Did you forget the rules, Cal, or was it a voluntary choice to opt out?"

"I always underestimate you," I said.

"Perhaps you look on me as a child," he replied. "I've found that first generation hara always do have a slightly condescending attitude to those of us who are pure-born, as if we haven't lived.' That's not fair, is it? Can you really say I haven't experienced anything?"

"I wouldn't dream of it, my dear. All I'm saying is, I've lived with Varrs, I I've lived with Gelaming—even if it was under restraint. I know this scenario. Take away the grand buildings, the luxuries, the clothes and you have the leader's clique of the Uigenna. It's not that different."

"I hope you're right."

"So do I."

Sykernesse

"/ must be satisfied with my heart..."

—W. B. Yeats, The Circus Animals' Desertion

I always expect the consorts of Wraeththu leaders to be effeminate, gentle creatures, whose sole purpose is usually for the generation of heirs. Elisyin was an exception to this rule. His hair was hacked short, consciously unkempt, his attitude restless and self-willed. From the moment I first set eyes on him, I could see why he wouldn't have anything to do with the petty restrictions of Maudrah society. First, it would bore him to distraction; second, it would get in the way of more important things. Elisyin liked to be direct. Form and ceremony held no interest, no comfort for him. Ariaric probably adored and slightly feared him. Terzian had once felt that way for Cobweb; perhaps I was being too subjective about Elisyin because of that. Elisyin was not tall, but as graceful and aesthetic as you'd expect from a well-bred Ferike. He did not wear cosmetics except for painting his fingernails deepest indigo. His ears were pierced at least a dozen times by earrings of all shapes and sizes, but he wore no other jewelery. His suite of rooms was sumptuous, but untidy; it did not feel particularly royal.

Lalasa led us through a gossiping cluster of courtiers to the couch where Elisyin was presiding over a game of cards. Nobody seemed to be taking it very seriously. The consort of the Archon smiled politely at us when were introduced, but it was clear that he had little real interest. Many people, seeking positions in Sykernesse, must be presented to him in this way, so that two more new faces were just too unremarkable for words. Elisyin didn't ask us why we were there; he didn't care. I have to confess that it pricked my pride badly. I wanted to show him how different we were to the sycophants that surrounded him. It angered me that we should appear as such. It would have been madness to consider attempting mind-touch with this elevated Har, but consider it I did. Only the desire to remain "faceless" for a while prevented it. Vanity was still something I had to get under control. Lalasa went to great pains to impress on us how privileged we were, being introduced into such august company. He showed us off to a few of Elisyin's cronies, some of whom actually stirred themselves to take an interest in us. One or two hara mentioned they would like to have their portrait painted. Panthera gritted his teeth, smiled and talked about making preliminary sketches. He considered such things beneath his art, but hid it well. After an eternity of endless chit-chat he came and whispered in my ear; "Roselane!"

"Soon," I promised. It shut him up but we both knew that wasn't exactly truthful.

For three days we played the game. For three days, we rose late in the morning, dined like kings, went on tours of Oomadrah with Lalasa, said the right things to the right

people. In the evenings, we visited the theater, the horse-races, the art galleries, all within Sykernesse itself. All so civilized.

Panthera was going crazy. "You're wasting time, Cal," he said. "What the hell are you doing here? This is madness. Have you forgotten Elhmen and Sahen so quickly?"

Oh, I knew he was right. Elhmen seemed a million miles away, Immaii-ion but a dream. The way things were going, it seemed unlikely we would ever get to see Ariaric. Elisyin's people rarely interacted with those of the third floor. We didn't even know if the Archon was in residence or not. On the evening of the third day, I was prepared to admit I'd been wrong about diverting our journey. What had I been expecting? A fiery confrontation with the Lion to show him how much I'd achieved despite having been kicked out of the Uigenna? You see, I couldn't even be sure of my motives any more. Perhaps it was simply pride. I said to Panthera, "Tomorrow we leave," and he had the grace not to say anything. "I told you so" would have been just too obvious. We began to pack our bags and there was a knock at the door. Panthera looked up at me dismayed; presentiment. It was Lalasa. He didn't even notice we were packing.

"You've got an hour to get ready," he said. "Look your best. Ariaric has returned from the Natawni border and there's going to be a celebration in his honor. Elisyin asked if you'd like to come." (I bet!) "It may be the only chance you'll get, Cal. Make a move—now." He swept out before we could say anything.

Panthera did not look exactly elated. He stared at me meaningfully, no doubt wishing he'd bullied me into leaving the day before. "Be careful," he said.

The bulk of Sykerness is four-storied. The ground floor is the domain of the servants and staff, offices and reception rooms for visitors, kitchens and store-rooms. The first floor houses the offices of state, suites for visitors worth more than the ground floor but not high-ranking enough to qualify for a suite on the second or third, conference room, libraries and the living quarters of those hara who administrate that floor. The second floor, as I've already intimated, is the territory of Elisyin, his friends and staff. The third is Ariaric's and the province of the Niz. They alone have access to the towers and spires of Sykernesse, the observatories and private temples. Most of the court, including the Lion's family, reside on the second floor. And it was there that the celebration to welcome the Archon home was held.

Lalasa took charge of us, ushering us into the right corridors, "Stay by me," he said. "Whatever you do, Cal, don't attempt to speak with Ariaric. He may notice you. He may not. You are in the hands of Fate.

Tomorrow you may be requested to continue your journey east at once. We shall have to see."

The gathering was surprisingly informal, held in a large, but low-ceil-inged room, where the colors of palest dove gray and darkest indigo melded to a refined and tasteful effect and the lights were discrete, flattering hara who passed beneath them. Tables were set out at one end of the room, laden with food, but there were few seats. Servants glided silently among the guests, supplying glasses of dry, iced wine, hara mingled, conversing softly, but all eyes kept flicking to the doors. Panthera and I accepted a glass of wine each and then secreted ourselves in a corner to watch the proceedings. My heart was racing. Lalasa hovered close by, keeping an eye on us. Presently, Elisyin made a grand entrance, and we were witness to a mind-boggling display of sycophancy; the court virtually fell to their knees as he passed among them. Elisyin appeared not to notice this. He had an autocratic young Har on each arm, whom Lalasa told us were his sons. At his heels came a tall, robed figure, who kept his hands hidden in his sleeves. That, we were informed, was Wrark Fortuny, High Priest of the Niz. It was the first Niz we had seen since entering Sykernesse. Panthera and I quickly became bored by it all. We were too insignificant for anyone to come and speak to us and we couldn't help scorning everyone's fawning behavior towards Elisyin.

After half an hour or so, the elite of Ariaric's army made their entrance. More swooning and grovelling on behalf of the court. Panthera rolled his eyes at me. But the best was yet to come.

Presently, Wrark Fortuny took his place on a raised dais at the far end of the room. The music which had been playing so softly I'd barely noticed it ceased immediately, and there was an audible sibilance from the room, which quickly lapsed to silence. Fortuny raised his hands, his head, and closed his eyes. He took a deep, deep breath. Exhaled.

"As you are gathered here," he intoned in a ringing voice, "so shield your eyes from the Light as it falls upon you. Keen your welcome for the Son of Brightness, the Breather of Life, the Stern Deliverer of Justice, Semblence of the Aghama on this Blighted Earth; Ariaric, Archon of Oomadrah, known also as the Lion for the Intentness of His Gaze, the Soft Walker of the Deserts, whose Eyes are the Twin Lights of Destiny and have looked upon the Mysteries. As the Spirit of the Aghama resides in Him, so do we recognize the Goddua within the har, and avert our eyes until he gives us leave to see . . ."

Within the room, every chin sank toward every breast. Breath was held as a single breath. Panthera and I exchanged a nervous glance. "Avert your eyes!" Lalasa hissed at us desperately. For the time being, I looked at the floor. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wide doors onto the corridor outside thrown open. A clarion was sounded; five, sweet, clear notes. Fortuny spoke a blessing and Ariaric, accompanied by his closest friends, came into the room. I had to look up. Had to. It was a vital moment to me,a sweeping clean of the path of time so that two points could meet and blossom in understanding. I did not raise my head; I strained my eyes to see. I was the only one. Ariaric turned and smiled at his friends, who smiled back. He approached his consort Elisyin, whose head was bowed as everyone elses, and kissed him on the cheek. Elisyin raised his head, nodded. He was saying, "I am fine, beloved." I'd known that language myself once. Fortuny, inhaled deeply, as if he could smell their contact. He opened his eyes and Ariaric raised his hand. "Look now upon the Light!" Fortuny cried exhuberantly, and everyone sank as one to their knees. A few outland-ers like Panthera and myself were standing rather self-consciously around the edge of the room. The Archon took a quick look at us. Perhaps he was always afraid of seeing old faces there. He looked me right in the eye, but gave no flicker of recognition. Even so, I knew he had recognized me. I felt his blood run momentarily cold, his heart miss a beat. For a second, we were both back there in the past, knees touching as we squatted in an old warehouse store-room, he with a cut palm, me with a crazy fear. He had been so strong then, but I'd faced my fear. I'd lived it through. I had a son now; somewhere. What of Ariaric? Had he grown too? I was Algomalid, but to his people, the Lion was a god. An incarnation of the Aghama. Impossible. But I could not dispute it... yet. I had been mistaken about his hair, he had not cut it off. Whatever austerities his new role demanded, he was too fond of his mane to lose it. It was braided tight against his head, down his back, showing off the bones of his face and neck, and darker in color than before. Obviously, he'd been working on his inner balance. The aggressive masculinity had been tempered by serenity and grace. I expected his voice would be softer. He said, "Rise, my people," and they did so. His voice was softer, but it carried far. I could feel his power, which may just have been confidence. As Lalasa had said, we would have to see. Every face in that room was shining with pleasure; how they loved him. I just watched. He kept looking at Elisyin and Elisyin would grimace back and I wondered about what jokes they made about these fawning hara when they were alone together. Perhaps they didn't joke at all. For a moment, I was intensely envious. The thought, "That could have been me" sprang instantly to mind, but it was not as potential consort to the Lion that I thought it. No. For perhaps the first time, I found myself thinking, "If I had accepted Thiede's offer, if I had gone with him to Immanion, would there have come a time when I would have met Pell's eyes across a room like this? Would we have smiled together, sharing our secret, savoring it?" It was a far more complicated feeling than that, but difficult to put into words. Panthera put his hand on my arm and brought me back. Perhaps he had guessed what I'd been thinking.

"Is he as you remember him?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No. Greatly changed . . . maybe."

I knew he would speak to me soon.

The evening wore on, swirling around us. The music became louder, voices higher as more wine was consumed. I kept thinking about the difference between this and life in the city below, and commented upon it to Lalasa.

He smiled. "Not really double standards," he said. "In ancient times, men did not expect to live like gods, neither would they have dared to criticize the way in which their gods conducted themselves. Ariaric is Divinity in Maudrah; his behavior is beyond reproach, similarly the behavior of his court."

"And what exactly is Goddua?" Panthera asked.

"Simple," Lalasa answered. "It is the God and Goddess combined; as are all of us."

Panthera was ready to argue. "God and Goddess cannot be termed as 'he' surely," he said.