The Ruling Sea Part 10

On the kerchief lay a handful of human bones. There were three teeth, what might have been a fragment of rib, and an entire, articulated finger. All were yellow-brown and clearly old, perhaps even ancient. The mage looked at them warily, like things that might jump from his hand. Then he returned the box to the shelf and took down a small bra.s.s bowl.

'What is that devil up to now?' asked Ludunte.

'More than prayer, I think,' said Diadrelu.

Arunis sat again upon the floor. The kerchief he spread before him, within the innermost circle. The bowl he placed between the rings of ash and salt, and Dri saw now that it contained a few teaspoons of a pale, lumpy substance like crumbled cake. From the folds of his cloak he produced a match. Lighting it by the oil lamp, he held it above the black kerchief.

'Lords of Night,' he whispered, 'unbar your ways, unlock your gates and posterns, withdraw your jealous guard. Let the one who dwells with you gaze on these relics of himself.'

He dropped the match into the bowl. The yellow substance blazed ferociously, crackling and spitting. The air filled with a reek so sharp and bitter it even pa.s.sed through the ixchels' tiny spyhole, and Dri reared back for a moment, fearful she would cough. The dog whined. Ludunte was almost gagging.

'What is it? A drug, a poison?'

Dri could make no answer. When she looked again the walrus-oil lamp was out, and the fire in the bowl was reduced to a low, sputtering flame. Arunis had not moved a muscle.

And then the flame spoke.

'Hideth venostralhan, Wytter.'

Ludunte stifled a gasp. Dri seized his arm in warning, though she herself felt stabbed with horror. The voice was cold and dry and powerful, but what made it truly ghastly was its indifference. She had no idea what the words meant, but they were said with the drawling unconcern of one who would cut off another's limb out of boredom, or perhaps his own. It was appalling even to know that such a voice could exist.

'He has brought it, Sathek,' said Arunis. 'He has brought it to this island, not three miles from here, and I must have it for my king.'

The voice from the flame spoke again, with the same lazy savagery.

'Your time in this world has pa.s.sed,' said Arunis. 'But through the s.h.a.ggat I can complete your work.'

A flat, slow sigh: a death sigh, or the ghost of a laugh.

'Yet I must have it,' said Arunis. 'With or without your help. Only if you help me our victory will be more swift. Imagine him when the Swarm returns. The Nilstone in one fist, your sceptre in the other! Armies shall wilt before him, like petals in the frost.'

'Saukre ne s.h.a.ggat prelichin.'

'He will be flesh again. Mark my word. Not even Ramachni of Nemmoc can prevent it.'

They spoke on. The sorcerer was angry and pleading by turns, but the voice of the other never changed. The fire dimmed in the bowl. Whatever it was consuming was almost gone.

'M'lady, the fumes--'

'Hush, Ludunte!'

'I ask nothing for myself,' hissed Arunis, leaning over the dwindling flame. 'Near death have I been, and wrung dry of magic, yet I seek no help on that score. But can you not stir yourself for the sake of what you built? Can you truly wish it left for ever with that old Babqri fool? Do this for yourself, Sathek. Let me be your instrument of revenge!'

The sorcerer spread his palm an inch above the jumbled bones.

'Do this, and when I regain the Nilstone I shall build a tomb for your relics the size of a castle, upon a peak in Olisurn. Deny me, and I shall toss them into the bay.'

The fire winked out.

'Sathek!'

The sorcerer froze, listening intently. The cabin was black. With their exceptional night vision the ixchel could still see well enough, but Dri could not tell if his expression was one of triumph or defeat. She kept her hand on Ludunte's arm, warning him not to make a sound.

For several minutes Arunis did not seem to breathe. Then suddenly he rose to his feet and leaped out of the circles. Rus.h.i.+ng to the porthole, he tore frantically at the bolt and threw open the round gla.s.s window. The sound of rain filled the cabin; Dri could hear it lancing against the floor. Arunis bent and peered through the opening, then gave a laugh that must have carried through several decks.

The dog yipped from beneath the bed. At the sound Arunis looked at it for the first time, and an alarming thought seemed to strike him. Rus.h.i.+ng to the bed, he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the dog and leaped back within the three circles, holding the squirming animal tight against his chest.

A thump. Something had alighted in the porthole. It was about the size of a gull, but it was not bird-shaped. It was so black Dri found she could not make out its features. Did it have two legs, or four? Was that a tail or a lanky braid?

'Go,' Arunis told it, and the fear was naked in his voice. 'Go and get it, creature, and bring it to me.'

The thing made an animal yowl and leaped at the mage. But at the edge of the first circle it stopped short, groping at the air as if entangled in a web. It spat and clawed, but could not break through. In a fury the creature circled the cabin, smas.h.i.+ng cups and flasks and inkwells, overturning the table, emptying the shelves, as Arunis shouted Go, go! Go, go! and the dog barked murder. But the thing would not cross the lines on the cabin floor. and the dog barked murder. But the thing would not cross the lines on the cabin floor.

'Your master set you a task, incubus! You dare not return to your sphere without seeing it done, and the night is half-spent already. Obey him!'

The creature hurled itself once more at Arunis, and once more the circles proved impossible to cross. Hissing with rage it returned to the porthole, then seemed to twist and look back. Lightning crackled over the bay, and in its glow Dri saw a face out of nightmare, a baby fused with a rabid dog, and then the thing was gone.

Arunis leaped to the porthole and slammed it fast. Dropping his pet, he staggered back to his bed and threw himself down. Gasping, he covered his face with his hands.

Dri motioned to Ludunte: We climb We climb. In a few seconds they were up the wall and crawling away across the ceiling of the adjacent cabin. When a good distance separated them from the mage, Dri sat down and began to work the cramps out of her legs.

Ludunte spoke in a hoa.r.s.e whisper. 'He summoned a fiend, m'lady. Right before our eyes.'

She looked up at him sharply. The boy was in shock.

'Even now,' she asked, 'will Taliktrum deny the peril this mage represents? Does he think Arunis will suffer a nest of crawlies to divert this mission for ends of their own?'

Ludunte swallowed. His mouth twisted in frustration.

'I begin to understand,' said Diadrelu. 'He placed you here alone because because you are loyal to me, didn't he? So that whatever you might observe should be tainted and unconvincing to the clan. After all, you're just the sworn servant of a madwoman.' you are loyal to me, didn't he? So that whatever you might observe should be tainted and unconvincing to the clan. After all, you're just the sworn servant of a madwoman.'

'No, no--'

'And then of course there were the fumes. Perhaps we hallucinated. Who wouldn't prefer to think so? Especially if believing meant turning away from that old story, ixchel against all humans everywhere, and admitting that we must find some to put our faith in we must find some to put our faith in, or die with them all alike?'

'M'lady, do you order me to speak?'

'No!' said Dri quickly. 'Heridom, I order you not not to. You must be able to stand before Taliktrum and declare in all truth that you never told me anything. If he intends to spy on me I'd rather he use you than anyone else. I depend on you now more than ever.' to. You must be able to stand before Taliktrum and declare in all truth that you never told me anything. If he intends to spy on me I'd rather he use you than anyone else. I depend on you now more than ever.'

Ludunte gazed at his feet for a moment. Then he raised his head and asked, 'Where did Arunis send that creature, do you know? To attack your friends in the stateroom?'

Dri shook her head. 'His ultimate goal is to recover the Nilstone, but he sent the incubus ash.o.r.e. Not three miles from here Not three miles from here, he said. Whatever he wants is on the island, and in the hands of the one he called that Babqri fool that Babqri fool. A Mzithrini, in other words. Well, it is time we left. Go and close the hole.'

'M'lady, I do not have the spyjack crank.'

Dri thought she had misheard. She got to her feet, and there was cold fury in her voice.

'They left you tending a spyjack with no means to close it behind you?'

Ludunte nodded reluctantly.

Dri took a deep breath. 'Listen to me, sophister sophister. You will never again consent to watch a spyjack you cannot close - not if the ghost of Yalidryn the Founder himself should rise and demand it. Go to Night Village and fetch a crank. There is no shortage of them. Report what we have seen to Taliktrum, then come back and close the hole. Those are my express commands.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

Night Village was the mercy deck; the nearly lightless floor just above the hold, where the ixchel dwelt in a fortress of cargo-crates, ten yards from the bow.

'Report all that we have seen to Taliktrum,' Dri continued. 'It may be some time before I return.'

Ludunte looked at her fearfully. 'Where are you going, mistress?'

She hesitated, then smiled and laid a gentle hand on his arm. 'Where the clan must not follow,' she said.

She did not go directly where she had planned, however. There was one other matter to attend to first.

Hercol Stanapeth still slept in his valet's cabin on the berth deck. Diadrelu had no means to enter the stifling little chamber, but as she wriggled between the ceiling and the floor above she heard him move. A rustling in the darkness, then a slight sc.r.a.pe. A pale shaft of light sprang up through a crack she would never otherwise have seen. Hercol was lighting a candle. Dri crawled forward to the crack and looked down.

He was seated cross-legged on the floor, s.h.i.+rtless, back straight and eyes half-closed. A posture of meditation. His arms and chest were muscled like an ixchel's: no weak spots, no inch of flesh allowed to luxuriate in softness. His blackened sword lay before him like a talisman. This was good luck, Dri decided: it was hard to catch Hercol by himself.

He raised his hands in a seated stretch. How serene he was, how purposeful. She had come to tell him of the incubus - only the incubus, keep that clear only the incubus, keep that clear. But doubts a.s.sailed her as she watched his steady breathing. What would they say, her people, if they saw her now? There were scores of men in this compartment. The walls were thin, and the air was still and noiseless. It would be reckless to make contact here.

He twisted his upper body, and she saw the wolf-scar on his ribcage, glistening with sweat. She should have gone to the stateroom, she told herself, to the tarboys and Thasha. What need did she have to approach this man directly?

Dri felt her heart begin to hammer. She rehea.r.s.ed her words. I must talk with you, stand up, let me in. I will trust you with knowledge that could kill me. Not of the incubus, but of-- I must talk with you, stand up, let me in. I will trust you with knowledge that could kill me. Not of the incubus, but of-- She caught herself up short. Mother Sky, what was she thinking? To speak . . . of that that? Could she tell a human about that that, and still call herself a member of the clan? She closed her eyes and pressed a clenched fist against her mouth, as though it might speak without her consent. Impossible. Impossible. You are losing your mind.

One level below, in the gloom of the orlop deck, the s.h.a.ggat Ness, G.o.d-King of Gurishal and Fifth Monarch of the Mzithrin Pentarchy, stood with his stone ankles buried in straw. Dri studied him with equal parts fascination and disgust. His lifeless face wore a look of outrage, and the beginnings of fear. His left hand, held high but shrunken and withered, grasped the deadliest object on earth.

The Nilstone. It was small and round and pitch black. Too black Too black, like the body of the incubus: Dri's eyes seemed to stop working when she tried to focus on its surface.

The large compartment was known as the manger; it was a fodder room for the s.h.i.+p's cattle. Half the straw bales had been removed, the rest stacked against the aftermost wall to within a few feet of the ceiling. Atop these crouched Diadrelu, studying the men below.

Two of the group, dressed in yellow robes, were chained to the aft bulkhead. One sprawled on the floor, asleep; the other paced the length of his chains, scratching and arguing with himself. These were the s.h.a.ggat's sons. They looked to be in their twenties, but were in fact more than twice that age. On the prison isle of Licherog the men's chatter had so annoyed Arunis that he had cast sleeping-spells on them both. The spell had never quite worn off: to this day they were given to fits of narcolepsy.

They had aged more slowly in their sleep. But the long captivity, and perhaps the oddness of pa.s.sing so much of their lives unconscious, had eroded a good deal of their sanity.

The others were all Turach soldiers. Three guarded the room's single door (left open in the vain hope of a breeze), and three more stood in precise formation around the stone king. They were gigantic and terrible men: elite commandos, rated worthy to guard the Emperor himself. They drank fire storax at dawn to shock themselves awake, gulped pills made from the bones of Slevran panthers to increase their strength (though Dri had heard Bolutu begging them to give up the 'vicious habit'), plunged their fists into buckets of gravel and scarlet chilis to deaden them to pain.

But yesterday, facing Arunis and his corpse-warriors, some of the Turachs had hesitated, seemingly afraid, and in those few seconds lives had been lost. Punishment had come this morning. Sergeant Drellarek, their commander, had stood all those who had retreated in a line on the main deck. He then told his lieutenant to recite the seventh of the Ninety Rules of the Rinfaith.

'Rule Seven,' the young man had shouted. 'Fear rots the soul and gives back nothing, but wisdom can save me from all harm. I shall cast off the first for the second, and guard the sanct.i.ty of the mind.'

Then Drellarek had drawn his knife and slit the throat of every seventh man in the lineup. Those who escaped bound their comrades' bodies in sailcloth and twine. Monstrous Monstrous, thought Diadrelu. And very effective. From now on they'll fear nothing but him And very effective. From now on they'll fear nothing but him.

But was there nothing else to be afraid of? Yesterday they had all learned that to touch the Nilstone brought instant death to any with fear in their hearts. What about standing near it, though, for hours on end? The men looked well enough - just itchy and uncomfortable in the heat. For the moment that was all Dri needed to know. She did not think Arunis would soon come for the Nilstone or his king. By his own admission he was weak - and after Drellarek's measures, she had no doubt that these men and their eighty fellow Turachs would fight him to the death.

She tried again to see the Nilstone. How can it be there and How can it be there and not not there at the same time? What is that d.a.m.ned thing? there at the same time? What is that d.a.m.ned thing? Ramachni had said it was 'death given form', and had indeed come to Alifros from the world of the dead. He had also a.s.sured them it could never be destroyed. And yet she and her human comrades had sworn to get rid of it somehow, before Arunis found a way to use it against them all. Ramachni had said it was 'death given form', and had indeed come to Alifros from the world of the dead. He had also a.s.sured them it could never be destroyed. And yet she and her human comrades had sworn to get rid of it somehow, before Arunis found a way to use it against them all.

'I want wine!'

It was the s.h.a.ggat's son. He was glaring at his captors, stamping his feet.

'Is that a fact,' muttered a sleepy Turach.

'My father is a G.o.d! His hour is come! Surely you don't want to die?'

'He's not a G.o.d, you wretch. Why don't you blary sleep?'

Diadrelu crawled back from the edge of the straw bale. Nothing more to be learned here. With a sigh she decided to return to the ixchel compound. She did not relish the abuse and ridicule that would await her there. But she was hungry - and like any member of the clan she had communal duties to perform: cooking, maintenance, care of the sick and wounded. Taliktrum had let her know that he had taken a personal interest in her ch.o.r.es.

'Give that bottle here!' said the s.h.a.ggat's son.

'It ain't wine, it's water. And it's ours. You threw yours up in the hay like a naughty baby, didn't you?'

Dri smiled: the remains of a shattered bottle lay a few feet to her left.

The son was actually starting to cry. 'You despise me.'

'Now you're catchin' on.'

'Very soon you'll be sorry. When he is flesh again, and the Swarm explodes from the grey kingdom, you shall answer to my father. I will tell him and you will be crushed. You worms, you tiny insects, you - bullies.'

'What's this swarm swarm you're always on about?' you're always on about?'

But the s.h.a.ggat's son had lost the thread of his rant. 'Is it so much to ask, Warden? A good bottle and a bit of cheese? Even local cheese would do.'

Dri rose, stretched - and a flash of movement overhead sent her leaping, spinning, drawing her sword in midair, and the quickness of thirty years' training saved her life.

A hideous insect crouched before her. It was as large as Dri herself, double-winged like a dragonfly, with barbed limbs, green composite eyes and a long stinger like a wasp's curled under its body. That stinger had just stabbed the spot where Dri had lain a moment before.

She drew her knife as well. The creature made a sudden deep buzz, like a crosscut saw biting into a tree. It swivelled its black hairy head, fixed an eye on her, and launched itself into the air. Skies, it's fast Skies, it's fast. She couldn't see it: then it attacked again. This time she felt the brush of a leg. She struck, but her sword cut only air.

'Wine and cheese! Wine and cheese!'

'Shut up! Shut up!'

The thing was faster than Sniraga the cat. It dived a third time, vanished, dived again and missed her neck by a finger's width. Dri spun into battle dance, into the desperate pinwheeling that can hold off four humans at once. If I stop, I die. If I leap from the hay it will sting me before I land. If I stop, I die. If I leap from the hay it will sting me before I land.

The room was a blur. In ecstatic dance she moved backwards through the shards of gla.s.s. There was a higher bale there; she could back against it like a wall, burrow into it if need be. If I have time. How many are there? If I have time. How many are there? Then the insect was on her and the stinger pierced her cloak beside her ribs, and knowing she had won before she struck Dri snapped the stinger in two with a twist of her body and plunged her knife-hand to the wrist into the insect's eye. Then the insect was on her and the stinger pierced her cloak beside her ribs, and knowing she had won before she struck Dri snapped the stinger in two with a twist of her body and plunged her knife-hand to the wrist into the insect's eye.

It was minutes in dying. Its gore and spittle burned her, head to foot, and a barb on its leg pierced her thigh. But at last its convulsions ceased. She threw the carca.s.s down, bleeding, dumbfounded. What in the black Pits of woe had just attacked her?