Percepliquis Part 42

Royce ran forward. "Over here! You stupid thing," he shouted, waving his hands over his head.

The Gilarabrywn ignored Royce and charged Hadrian, who scrambled back toward the light of Arista's robe, which once more brightened.

"Gilarabrywn!" Royce called. The beast stopped its pursuit. "Over here, you stupid thing! What? Don't you like me? Am I too thin?" The beast looked toward Royce but did not move away from the door.

"By Mar!" Royce exclaimed in frustration.

"Minith Dar," the Gilarabrywn said, and its voice rumbled the chamber like thunder.

"It spoke," Royce said, stunned.

"That's right. They talk in Old Speech." He heard Arista.

"What did it say?"

"I'm not sure. I don't know the language well. I think he said, 'Comprehension is missing,' but I don't know," she shouted.

"I do." It was Myron's voice coming into the darkness. "It said, 'I don't understand.' "

"It doesn't understand what?"

"Royce can't hear a shrug, Myron," Hadrian said.

"I don't know," the monk replied.

"Ask it," Arista suggested.

There was a pause; then Myron spoke again. "Binith mon erie, minith dar?"

The creature ignored Myron and continued to stare at Royce.

"Maybe he didn't hear you."

Myron shouted louder. Still the beast ignored him, his eyes fixed on Royce.

"By Mar," Royce said again.

"Minith Dar," the Gilarabrywn replied.

"That's it!" Myron shouted. "Bimar! Bimar means hungry in Old Speech."

"Yeah, that's right," Arista confirmed. "But it only seems to hear Royce."

"He's elvish," Hadrian said. "Maybe-"

"Of course!" the princess shouted. "It's just like Avempartha! Say something to it in Old Speech, ask it a question. Say, 'Ere en kir abeniteeh?' "

"Ere en kir abeniteeh?" Royce repeated.

"Mon bir istanirth por bon de havin er main," the Gilarabrywn replied.

"What'd I say-and what did it say?"

"You asked its name, and it said..." Arista hesitated.

"It said," Myron started, taking over, " 'My name is written upon the sword of my making.' "

"You can talk to it, Royce!" Arista told him.

"Wonderful, but why isn't it eating me?"

"Good question," the princess replied. "But let's not ask that. No sense giving it any ideas."

Royce stepped forward. The Gilarabrywn did not move. He took another step, then another, staying on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet. He knew the beast was clever and this was just the sort of ploy it might use to get him off his guard. Another step and then another. He was within striking distance; still the Gilarabrywn did not move.

"Careful, Royce," Hadrian told him.

Another step, then another and the Gilarabrywn's tail was just inches away.

"I wonder how it feels about having its tail pulled." Royce reached out and touched it. Still the Gilarabrywn did not move. "What's wrong with it? Myron, how do you say move away?"

"Vanith donel."

Royce stood before the giant creature and in a strong voice ordered, "Vanith donel!"

The Gilarabrywn backed up.

"Interesting," Royce said. He closed the distance between them. "Vanith donel!"

Again the Gilarabrywn retreated.

"Try coming out," Royce said.

The moment Hadrian set foot outside the door, the Gilarabrywn advanced once again. Hadrian retreated into the room.

"How do you say stop?"

"Ibith!"

Royce ordered it to halt and it froze.

"Myron, how do you say do not harm anyone?"

Myron told him and Royce repeated the phrase.

"And how do you say allow their pa.s.sage through this room?"

"Melentanaria, en venau brenith dar vensinti."

"Really?" Royce said, surprised.

"Yes, why?"

"I know that one." Esrahaddon had taught him Melentanaria, en venau in Avempartha. Once more Royce repeated Myron's words, and for a third time Hadrian stepped out of the room into the Vault of Days. This time, the Gilarabrywn did not move.

"Vanith donel!" Royce shouted, and the Gilarabrywn stepped back, granting them pa.s.sage.

"This is amazing," Arista said, entering the room with Hadrian. "It's obeying you."

"I wish I had known I could do this back in Avempartha," Royce said. "It would have been real handy."

Royce herded the Gilarabrywn back against the far wall, the great beast stepping backward before the tiny figure of the thief, its head glaring down at him, but showing no signs of violence.

"Alminule means stay," Myron said.

"Alminule," Royce said, and backed up. The Gilarabrywn remained where it was. "Everybody cross. Just stay spread out a bit-just in case."

One by one, they ran the expanse. Arista waited in the open beside Royce to provide light until Gaunt-the last to leave-made the crossing.

CHAPTER 22.

NOVRON THE GREAT.

The stone door on the far side of the Vault of Days was partially open, and taking the lantern from Myron, Hadrian was the first to enter. Inside, tall columns held up a high ceiling. The room was musty and stale. Large painted pots, urns, chests, and bowls lined the walls, as did life-sized statues, braziers, and figures of various animals, some easily identified, others he had never seen before. A colonnade lined both sides with arches framing openings, chambers within which lay stone sarcophagi. Above the arches words were carved and above them paintings of people.

Hadrian heard Arista gasp behind him as the lantern revealed the floor at the center of the room, where three skeletons lay-two adults and a child. Beside them rested two crowns and a sword.

"Nareion," she whispered, "and his wife and daughter. He must have pulled them in here after Esrahaddon went to meet Venlin."

Hadrian wiped the blade with his thumb, revealing a fine script. "This is the sword, isn't it?"

Arista nodded.

"Which one is Novron's coffin?" Mauvin asked.

"The largest," Gaunt guessed. "And it would be on the end, wouldn't it?"

Arista shrugged.

Myron had his head back reading the inscriptions on the walls above the arches, his lips moving slightly as he did.

"Can you tell which it is?" Gaunt asked.

Myron shook his head. "Up there." He pointed at text on the ceiling. "It says this is the tomb of all the emperors."

"We know that, but which is Novron?"

"The tomb of all the emperors, but..." Myron looked at the coffins, counting them with his index finger. "There're only twelve coffins here. The empire lasted for two thousand one hundred and twenty-four years. There should be hundreds."

Hadrian moved around the room, looking at the sarcophagi. They were made of limestone and beautifully carved, each one different. A few had details of hunting and battle scenes, but one depicted nothing but a beautiful lake surrounded by trees and mountains. Another showed a cityscape and buildings being raised. Several of the archways were empty.

"Could they have been moved?" Hadrian asked Myron.

"Perhaps. Still, there are only twenty alcoves allotted here. Why so few?"

"The rest are probably behind this door," Magnus suggested. He was at the far end of the crypt, appearing even smaller than normal against the backdrop of the great pillars and statues. "There's an inscription."

The rest of them moved to the rear of the tomb to a plain wall with a single door and, over it, a single line of words.

"What does it say, Myron?" Royce asked.

" 'HERE LIES NYPHRON THE GREAT, FIRST EMPEROR OF ELAN, SAVIOR OF THE WORLD OF MAN.' "

"There you are," Magnus said. "The first emperor is inside."

Royce moved forward. The door was cut from rock. A set of stone pins held it fast and a lever hung recessed in the wall beside it. Royce took hold of the arm and rotated it, drawing out the pins, which ground loudly, until at last they came clear.

With a gentle push, Royce opened the tomb of Novron.

Hadrian held the lantern high as everyone stood behind Royce, who was the first to enter. Hadrian followed directly behind, along with Arista, whose robe helped illuminate the chamber. The first thing Hadrian saw was a pair of giant elephant tusks standing to either side of the door. They were arranged such that the points arched toward each other. Black marble pillars supported the four corners of the crypt, and within the s.p.a.ce between them, treasure filled the tomb.

There were golden chairs and tables, great chests, and cabinets. To one side stood a chariot made entirely of gold, to the other an elaborately carved boat. Spears lined one wall, and a group of s.h.i.+elds another. Statues of men and animals cast of gold and silver, draped with jewelry, stood like silent guards. In the center of the room, raised high on a dais, rested a great alabaster sarcophagus. On the sides were divided frames similar to those etched on the walls-the story of a council, a battle, and a war. Nowhere was there the scene of Maribor bestowing the crown, which Hadrian thought odd, as it was the quintessential image found in every church.

"This is it," Mauvin muttered in awe. "We've found it, the crypt of Novron himself." The count touched the chariot, grinning. "Do you think this was his? Was this what he rode into battle?"

"Doubt it," Hadrian said. "Gold is a bit heavy for horses to pull."

Arista moved around the room, her eyes searching.

"What is the horn supposed to look like?" Royce asked.

"I don't know exactly," she said. "But I think it is in the coffin. In fact, I know it is. Esrahaddon placed it there for Nevrik. We need to open it."

Magnus wedged his chisel under the stone lid and Hadrian, Gaunt, and Mauvin took up positions around the lid. Myron held the lantern high as the dwarf struck his hammer to the spike. The men heaved the lid off.

Inside lay the coffin. Wrought of solid gold, it was body-shaped and sculpted to depict a face, hands, and clothing. They all stared at the image of a small slender man with angled eyes and prominent cheekbones wearing an elaborate helm.

"I don't understand," Gaunt said. "What-what are we seeing?"

"It's only a case," Mauvin said. "Just decoration. We need to open this one too."