The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure (32 page)

As he thought this, the leash jerked. Ulaume gulped water and floundered a little. Stupid har! His first instinct was to grab the leash and pull back, haul his hated keeper into the water, but he realised this would not be a good move. If he failed to overpower the har, he could end up dead. Now, he was being pulled back to the bank of the waterhole. Breaking through the water’s surface, Ulaume coughed and blinked. He pushed wet hair from his eyes. Above him, standing on the bank, he saw a tall dark figure that looked like a manifestation of Aruhani himself. It seemed to emanate dark light. This figure crouched down and held out a hand. Ulaume took it and a familiar sensation of rushing dark energy coursed up his arm. Terez had returned to the Uigenna, then. Ulaume saw the lion cowering some feet away and a bundle of cloth and limbs that looked very much like a dead har. It appeared Terez had not returned to be a part of the tribe.

‘Terez,’ Ulaume said. ‘That
is
you, isn’t it?’

Terez hauled him from the water. ‘Yes. They’ve made a mess of you.’ This observation was delivered without feeling.

‘Thanks to you. Have you killed that har? Why? This isn’t a rescue, is it?’

‘Yes it is,’ Terez said. ‘Stop gabbing and take that leash off.’

Ulaume did so. ‘Well, well. Did guilt actually get to you?’

Terez exhaled impatiently through his nose. ‘I have been observing the troupe for a couple of days. Needed to be sure of where you were being held. Now, we will release Flick. Strip the Uigenna of his clothes and dress yourself. Be quick.’

Ulaume wondered whether this might be a dream: dressing himself in the clothes of a dead har, rescued by a living dead har. His keeper had worn a tasselled scarf around his head. Ulaume took this and beneath it hid his butchered hair. He unleashed the lion and hoped it might go free, but it probably wouldn’t. It would sit there shivering until somehar came for it and discovered its keeper was dead.

‘Do you know where they’re keeping Flick?’ Ulaume asked.

‘More or less, but it’ll be easy to find out precisely.’

‘I hope you can do it, then,’ Ulaume said. ‘My senses aren’t what they should be at the moment.’

‘Yes.’ Terez threw back his head, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. After a moment, he opened his eyes again and without glancing at Ulaume said, ‘This way. Keep to the shadows.’

There was little security in the Uigenna camp, because they clearly didn’t think they had anything in this area to secure themselves against. Some hara were busy erecting tepees, building fires and cooking food. Others were attending to animals, horses and the small flock of sheep that accompanied the troupe. There were no idle hands. Ulaume and Terez picked up a bale of fodder each they found in a pile next to a newly erected tepee and made their way round the edge of the camp, keeping a distance from everyhar else. Flick was being kept apart from the main camp, which was most convenient. Even as they approached, Ulaume could feel the familiar warmth of Flick’s spirit, and it was like coming home, even though he could tell Flick was far from happy.

Two Uigenna guards were stationed at the entrance to the tepee. Terez called to them and they both looked his way. Ulaume had taken a knife from the lion keeper. His strength had returned with his hope. In an instant, he leapt forward and cut a har’s throat. Terez dealt with the other one by twisting his neck. Ulaume heard the damp snap of bone. Terez then finished off the har whose throat Ulaume had cut. It was over so quickly. Together, Ulaume and Terez dragged the bodies behind the tepee, before anyhar noticed something was amiss.

‘Get Flick,’ Terez said. ‘Meet me back at the waterhole. I’ll fetch horses.’ He backed away into the shadows.

Ulaume went into the tepee and saw Flick crouched on a large silk cushion. He was pale, with dark circles beneath his eyes, dressed up like a Kakkahaar whore. Ulaume could not imagine what he might have lived through over the past few days.

‘Come!’ Ulaume said. ‘Now Flick. We’re leaving.’

Flick looked confused for a moment. ‘Ulaume?’ He stared at the fresh blood on Ulaume’s shirt.

‘Quick, no time for talk. Come on.’ Ulaume grabbed hold of Flick’s left hand and dragged him out of the tepee, desperate to get him beyond the light of the camp torches. He was afraid that somehar would pass the back of the tepee and spot the dead bodies. Then the alarm would be raised.

Without words, Ulaume and Flick ran to the waterhole. Terez wasn’t there. ‘By Aru, I hope he makes it!’ Ulaume hissed. ‘You won’t believe it, Flick, but it was Terez who rescued us.’

Flick was staring at the dead har. The lion had wandered off after all. ‘Terez,’ Flick said weakly. ‘I wish we’d killed him.’ There was a bitterness in Flick’s voice that Ulaume hadn’t heard before.

‘Well, if we had, then the Uigenna might still have returned, and we’d have had no knight in shining armour to save us,’ Ulaume said, ‘so maybe you were right about Terez after all.’

Flick merely grunted.

Ulaume heard the sound of hooves on the packed earth and then Terez appeared out of the darkness with the reins of three horses in his hand. One of them was Ghost. The animals stomped and snorted behind him. Terez put a finger to his lips for silence, then indicated they should mount up. He began to climb onto Ghost, but Flick pushed him aside and swung into the saddle himself. Terez shrugged and mounted another horse.

They walked the animals for about a hundred yards from the camp, then urged them into a gallop. The trouble with desert travel, Ulaume thought, was that you left a very obvious trail. A mile or so from the Uigenna, Terez directed them east, towards the cordillera.

‘They’ll follow us,’ Flick said.

‘We have the lead,’ Terez said. ‘We must keep it up.’

At dawn, they had passed beyond the foothills and were in a deeply forested region. Here, Terez decided it was safe for them to rest the horses for a couple of hours. Ulaume and Flick were so shocked and exhausted, they were happy to let Terez take control. They would have to take it in turns to keep watch. Terez offered to do so first.

Flick and Ulaume did not contest this. They climbed into a wide hollow tree and here Ulaume took off his scarf.

‘Oh no,’ Flick said. ‘Your hair. Your face.’ He reached to touch Ulaume’s head, but Ulaume pulled away. He couldn’t bear for it to be touched now.

‘It’ll grow back,’ he said. ‘And bruises fade. How are you?’

‘All right. Better than you.’ Flick reached out and gripped Ulaume’s right arm. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Terez is the one who should be apologising, not you,’ Ulaume said.

‘Why did he come for us?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m just glad he did.’

‘We can’t let them take us again.’

‘We won’t. I’ll die first.’

Ulaume knew they should sleep, because they’d need their strength, but it was difficult to surrender to it. His senses strained to pick up sounds of pursuit. The best he could hope for was a short time out of the saddle. He wouldn’t sleep until he felt safe.

Flick clearly felt the same. He explained how Wraxilan was obsessed with Cal and believed that Flick was in touch with him. ‘He wouldn’t listen to me. It was what he wanted to believe. I felt that at any moment, one night, he’d go mad and try to beat it out of me, the information I don’t have.’ He paused. ‘Ulaume, those hara are… The things I did…’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t speak of it.’

Ulaume stroked his face. ‘We escaped. We survived. That is all that matters.’

Flick sighed. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’ He paused. ‘We won’t be able to return to Casa Ricardo and live there as before, will we?’

‘No,’ Ulaume said. ‘It would be safer if we moved on.’

‘Where will we go?’

‘Just away,’ Ulaume replied. ‘Ask your dehara. Quest for the advice we need.’

Flick uttered a strange sound of angry despair. ‘I’m not sure I trust the dehara any more.’

‘Why not?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘OK,’ Ulaume said carefully.

Flick snuggled up against Ulaume for warmth, and Ulaume put his arms around him. Ulaume was just drifting off to sleep when he heard Flick say, ‘There is something terrible in us. We are no better than humanity, just stronger and more dangerous.’

Ulaume did not answer. He’d known that for a long time.

Chapter Nineteen

Five years after Cal had witnessed the death of Pellaz Cevarro in Megalithica, Thiede brought his reborn Wraeththu king to Immanion. The Tigron was renamed Pellaz-har-Aralis, and through his sons would begin to create the great Aralis dynasty.

Seel was not in the city when Pellaz arrived there. He was in Thaine, a country to the northwest of Almagabra, supervising the building of a Wraeththu settlement. A message came to him via an otherlanes courier to return to Immanion at once. Thiede wanted him to be there for Pell’s coronation.

That night, Seel sat up alone, shunning the company of his friends, and drank himself into a stupor. Now that it was about to happen, he dreaded having to face Pellaz. The following morning, he sent a message back to Immanion, informing Thiede he would not be able to get away from his project for two weeks, and he hoped this would be acceptable. A message returned quickly to say that it was. Thiede must know Seel needed time to compose himself for the forthcoming meeting.

However, the thought of two weeks of anxiety eventually got to Seel. Perhaps it would be better to get this over with. After only two days, he saddled up his
sedu
and travelled to Immanion.

The city had grown even more since Seel had last been there, and that had only been a couple of months before. The last of the scaffolding had come down from the walls of the Hegalion, where the Hegemony sat in council several days a week. Its great roof had been covered in gold leaf and Seel saw a new forked banner flying high from the tallest staff. He knew from designs that Thiede had shown to him that it sported the colours of the Tigron: purple and gold. A rampant flying horse dominated the centre. This must signify, Seel presumed, that Pellaz was present in the city.

Seel went directly to Thiede’s villa and hoped he would be home. Thiede had an apartment in the palace Phaonica as well, but usually returned to his villa to sleep. Fortunately he was in residence, and his steward conducted Seel into his presence. He was still taking breakfast, wearing his dressing gown and appeared quite surprised that Seel had arrived so early.

‘How is he?’ Seel asked, not wishing to waste time or mince words.

‘Perfect,’ Thiede answered, gesturing for his steward to pour Seel a glass of coffee. ‘I am delighted with my success.’

Seel sat down at Thiede’s table. ‘What have you told him about me?’

‘That you were reluctant to leave Saltrock, but are prepared to come here to be part of his staff.’

‘Why not tell the truth? I am a fawning lap dog of yours like everyhar else.’

Thiede laughed. ‘Never that, tiahaar. We’ll go to Phaonica as soon as I have dressed. Let’s surprise Pell, shall we?’

Seel had not set foot in the palace Phaonica before. Thiede had often invited him to look round it, but a kind of squeamishness had always prevented Seel from accepting. He hadn’t wanted to think about how one day a living dead har would call it home. It was a magnificent building, as the abode of the Tigron would have to be. Situated at the top of a hill, it was surrounded on all sides by tiered gardens that had been landscaped by the most creative of Wraeththu gardeners. Phaonica was like a small town within the city proper. Every need of the Tigron would be catered for. Produce would be grown for him in the kitchen gardens, fresh eggs laid by a flock of sleek black hens, milk and cream given by gentle dairy cows. The palace was so huge, it was bewildering and Seel wondered how a humble farmer’s son from southern Megalithica felt to be living in such a grand place.

They found Pellaz in the library of the palace with another har, whom Thiede informed Seel was now Pell’s personal aide. The doors were open and Thiede indicated they should approach quietly. In this way, Seel had the advantage of being able to stare at Pellaz for several seconds before he looked up from what he was reading. Thiede was right. Pellaz was perfect. He was taller than Seel remembered, and so beautifully formed (there was no other way Seel could describe it to himself) that he appeared unearthly. Seel felt dizzy. The dead had come to life. A more beautiful version of Pellaz had been snatched from some heavenly realm and the reality of him was disorientating. Seel still wasn’t sure whether a knife to his throat would not be the best option.

‘Pell,’ Thiede said. ‘You have a visitor.’

Pellaz raised his head and those luminous dark eyes stared right into Seel’s gaze. Pellaz froze.

Seel inclined his head. ‘Hello Pellaz. You look well.’

‘Seel,’ Pellaz said in a bewildered voice. ‘I knew you were coming but…’

‘I managed to get away early.’

Pellaz nodded. ‘Yes…’ He smiled, head enchantingly tilted to one side. ‘Oh, Seel. It’s wonderful you’re here.’ He ran across the short distance between them and wrapped Seel in a tight embrace.

Seel staggered a little, felt winded. He could smell clean hair and exotic perfume. He could feel the warmth of a living body. After a moment, he thought he’d better return the embrace and did so. ‘Well,’ he said awkwardly, ‘whoever would have thought it would come to this.’

‘Thank you for coming,’ Pellaz said, drawing away from him. ‘I’m so glad to see you.’

‘I’m rather amazed to see
you
, but…’

‘I know,’ Pellaz said. ‘I understand.’ He led Seel to a chair and pressed him into it, then sat on the wide arm of it. ‘You must tell me all about Saltrock. How is everyhar there? Thiede told me Orien is dead. It’s terrible. What happened?’ He gestured at the rather haughty red haired har who was his aide. ‘Vaysh, bring us some refreshments.’

Seel couldn’t speak.

‘Later,’ Thiede said smoothly. ‘I think Seel is rather more interested in hearing about you.’

‘Yes,’ Seel said. ‘I am. You look incredible, Pell. I can’t take this in.’

‘I’m going to be king – Tigron,’ Pellaz said. He sounded like an excited child.

‘I know,’ Seel said. He wondered how long it would take for the responsibility of that to knock all vestiges of innocence from this radiant har. Pellaz was reborn in every sense. He was like an unmarked page. Seel couldn’t dispel discomforting images of the way Pellaz had appeared in the pod at Thiede’s ice palace. He found himself wondering whether this was just a beautiful shell, and the real Pellaz was all rotten and black inside.

‘I need friends,’ Pellaz said. ‘Hara here are suspicious of me.’

‘Hmm,’ Seel murmured. ‘Well, here I am.’

‘I don’t have an inception scar any more.’

‘No, I don’t suppose you do.’ Seel glanced at Thiede darkly. This was hideous. Pellaz had no idea how uncomfortable Seel felt.

‘There’s this har called Ashmael,’ Pellaz said. ‘You must meet him. He hated me, but I don’t think he does as much now. He’s quite scary.’

Seel had spent two exhausting nights with Ashmael before leaving for Thaine. He wished Thiede had told Pellaz the truth, that Seel had been part of the Gelaming administration for some time. He foresaw future difficulties.

Thiede rolled his eyes in their sockets behind Pell’s back. He was grinning. Seel grimaced at him. Pellaz was such an innocent. Seel felt sorry for him. He was completely ignorant of everything, a condition in which Thiede most likely preferred to keep him.

‘We’ll all dine together later at my apartment here in the palace,’ Thiede said. ‘I think you should let Seel leave now, Pell. I just wanted him to drop in and see you. He no doubt wishes to refresh himself after his journey here.’

‘Of course,’ Pellaz said, rising from his seat.

Seel stood up and Pellaz held out his hand to him. His expression was kind, but there was a hint of arrogance about it. Not self-aggrandising, but merely that of a har who knew in his blood he was born to be served. Seel took the hand, pressed it to his lips and his brow. It was an involuntary gesture of respect. He bowed his head. Without doubt, Thiede had created a king.

For some time, Seel managed to hold off Pell’s incessant questions about Saltrock and Orien, which was difficult because Pellaz wanted Seel to be near him most of the time. Seel did not want to be the one to tell Pellaz about Cal, because he knew the information would hurt Pellaz very much. The potential Tigron talked about Cal as if they would be together again one day. ‘He goes to Saltrock sometimes, doesn’t he?’ he asked Seel. ‘Thiede doesn’t want me to see him again, I’m sure, but you could get a message to him for me. Perhaps we could even meet at Saltrock.’

Comments of this kind were excruciating to Seel. But it was when Pellaz finally mentioned Flick that the dam broke and Seel revealed all.

The coronation was only a few days away and Seel was in Pell’s dressing room, keeping him company while a gang of costumiers fussed over his coronation regalia. At some point in the conversation, Pellaz asked Seel why he hadn’t brought Flick to Immanion with him.

Seel knew then that the time for prevarication had past.
Just tell him,
he thought.
Once it’s out, it’s out. Tell him everything.

So he did. He told it as succinctly as possible, all the time watching Pellaz sink into a terrible despair. He couldn’t tell it quickly enough. By the end of the story Pellaz was slumped in a chair, his head in his hands. ‘
I
did that,’ he said, over and over. ‘
I
did that.’

Seel knew that Pellaz perceived no distance or awkwardness between them, because up until this moment he’d been so enmeshed in the heady experience of being alive in a wonderful new body, about to become Tigron of all Wraeththu. A fairy tale ending to a marvellous story. Now, Seel knew he had shattered it. The first bits of Pell’s childlike wonder and innocence had been chipped away. Perhaps it would have been better to keep him in ignorance, but how could he be a true Tigron if he remained that way? Seel thought that if he was to conspire in Thiede’s plans at all, it must include teaching Pellaz some autonomy, guiding him to wisdom. He could not embrace Pellaz spontaneously, because of all that had happened, but now he forced himself to cross the room and take the shuddering slender body in his arms. He murmured words of consolation. Pellaz couldn’t blame himself for this. If anyhar was responsible, it was Thiede and Cal’s insane stupidity or stupid insanity.

‘You hate him, don’t you,’ Pellaz mumbled, against Seel’s chest. ‘You hate Cal now.’

Seel only tightened his arms around him.
It’s more than hate, he thought. So much more
.

Two days later, the whole of Immanion turned out to line the streets for the Tigron’s coronation. The holiday would last two days, with continual feasting and parties in all corners of the city. It should have been the best day of Pell’s life. He rode through the streets to the High Nayati in a carriage decked with garlands, surrounded by cheering hara. Ashmael’s select guard, mounted on glossy
sedim
, led the procession
.
Hara threw olive sprigs and flowers into the carriage. They touched their brows in gestures of respect. Some, as they gazed upon Pellaz, wept openly. Pellaz kept a smile upon his face, but even so Seel knew the whole experience was now blighted for him by the bitter knowledge he held in his heart. When he swore allegiance to Wraeththukind in the High Nayati, his voice rang clear and true and perhaps only Seel heard the note of sadness that lay deep within it. At least Pellaz had a cause to which he could devote himself. As Tigron, there would be little time for him to dwell upon the past.

A private feast for the Tigron was held after the coronation in Phaonica. The salons of the palace were crammed with Gelaming dignitaries as well as representatives from many foreign tribes. In the main room, where Pellaz held court, tirelessly being nice to an endless procession of faces, Ashmael took Seel aside. They hadn’t met since Seel had returned to Immanion. ‘Well?’ Ashmael said. ‘What do you think?’

Seel shrugged. ‘He’ll do the job. Anyhar can see that.’

‘He’s as green as a lettuce,’ Ashmael said and took a long drink of wine. He had already consumed quite a lot.

Ashmael had never condemned Seel for not being able to kill Pellaz when he’d had the chance, because he respected Seel’s judgement, but he was still not at all happy about Thiede’s protégé becoming Tigron. Mainly, Seel thought, this was because Ashmael had fancied the role for himself. Thiede was right not have chosen him though. Ashmael had a tendency to be hotheaded and he could easily have become a dictator rather than a Tigron, who deferred to the Hegemony in all matters.

‘Give him a chance,’ Seel said. ‘He didn’t ask for this.’

‘Oh, I will,’ Ashmael said darkly. ‘But the minute he starts trying to throw his weight around, he’s carrion.’

Seel snorted. ‘Oh, for the Aghama’s sake, Ash, that’s not going to happen. Look at him.’

Ashmael glanced over to where Pellaz sat, a picture of regal splendour. They could hear the Tigron’s laughter: spontaneous, warm and genuine. ‘Power does things to hara,’ Ashmael said in a grumpy tone. Seel noticed his gaze lingered for few moments on the Tigron’s aide, Vaysh.

‘Doesn’t it just!’

Part of the reason Ashmael was, to put it mildly, cautious about Pellaz was because of Vaysh. Pellaz had told Seel that Pell’s aide was another protégé of Thiede’s, one who had been kept completely secret. Vaysh had been an earlier candidate for Tigronship, and had undergone the same traumatic death and rebirth experience that Pellaz had. But Vaysh was one of the less successful attempts that the Hegemony had heard rumours about. Something had gone wrong, and although Vaysh appeared physically perfect on the surface, the resurrection rite had affected his fertility, so he could never produce heirs, either as soume or ouana. This was not desirable to Thiede; his Tigron had to be perfect. Unfortunately, Vaysh had once been Ashmael’s chesnari, and perhaps initially Thiede had beguiled Ash into becoming Gelaming for the same reason he had beguiled Seel. As Cal had with Pellaz, Ash had believed Vaysh to be dead, but their story had not ended with happy reunion. Ashmael had only realised Vaysh was alive when he’d turned up in Immanion with Pellaz. Seel could only imagine what Ashmael must have gone through over the past weeks. He was not a har prone to displays of emotion and as far as Seel knew the only har with whom he’d discussed the matter had been Pellaz himself, which was odd given his feelings for the Tigron. Now, it was clear that in some peculiar way he held Pellaz partly responsible for what had happened to Vaysh.