Aurian, p.46
Aurian, page 46
part #1 of Aurian Series
The Lord of the Phaerie gathered his powers and... "ENOUGH!" He roared. The air was ripped apart by a tremendous thunderclap, and lightning arced across the chamber in a searing flare. Eilin jerked to her feet, cramming her knuckles into her gaping mouth. Her tangled hair was a bristling aureole from the residue of power in the room, and her eyes appeared enormous in a chalk-white face. Hellorin smiled at her." Much better! "He said briskly." And now that I have your attention Lady..."
Seizing the hand of the startled Mage, the Forest Lord pulled her after him out of the room, and rushed her, clattering, down the wooden spiral of stairs that twisted inside the walls of the slender tower. Ignoring the incredulous stares of his subjects, Hellorin towed her through the seemingly endless series of halls and chambers that made up his citadel, until at last they crossed the imposing Great Hall where Maya and D'arvan had rested, and burst through the great arching outer doorway and into the open. Without pausing, he hurried her down the steps of the outer terraces, and across the meadow toward the misty outline of the woods beyond.
"Hellorin, wait! I can't -" Eilin's breathless wail halted the Lord of the Phaerie. He turned to see that she was in real distress. Her legs were shaky, and her chest was heaving with the unaccustomed exertion that had come too soon after recovering from her dreadful wounds. But at least she was speaking again, and that irate glint in her eye promised well for the resurgence of her fiery spirit.
"Well run, my Lady," he told her - while thinking it was just as well that she had no breath for the blistering retort that was written all too clearly across her face. Putting his arm around her, he turned her back to face the way she had come - and was gratified by her gasp of pure delight. "Forgive me for rushing you out in such a rude and rough fashion, Lady," he said gently, "but I wanted very much to show you this." There, before them, climbing up and up from the gentle swell of the grassy meadow, was the pride of Hellorin's heart: the citadel and home of his people.
The Phaerie, consummate masters of illusion that they were, had excelled themselves. Combining nature with magic, they had created a true entity that actually lived and breathed around them - unlike the oppressive heaps of soulless, murdered, hacked-out stone that formed the dwellings of Mage and Mortal. Glowing like a jewel in the strange, golden half-light that was an unchanging feature of this timeless Otherworld, the citadel took the outward form of a massive, craggy hill. Its walls and balconies were cliffs and ledges, its windows were concealed by glamourie from outward view, and its many slender wooden towers, such as the one in which Eilin had been staying, were groves of soaring, living beech. Level areas boasted glades and gardens with translucent, bright-hued flowers that sparkled like spun glass in the eerie amber light. Streams and fountains decked the hillside in diamond-glitter, and cascaded down the sheer rock faces like drifting silver veils.
Hellorin let out his breath in a contented sigh. Down through all the ages, this sight had never failed to move him with a pleasure so intense that it was almost pain. He smiled at Eilin, who stood beside him as though she had been turned to stone. Her face was rapt and glowing.
"Beautiful, is it not, beyond all words?" He murmured. "Though your exile must be bitter, can such a place as this not ease your sorrow, Lady?"
Eilin sighed. "A little, perhaps - in the course of time."
"Ah, time - but time, at last, may mend all things." Seeing the Mage's quizzical frown, Hellorin was swift to enlighten her. "Your exile need not last forever, Lady - only for as long as we ourselves are imprisoned here."
"What?" Eilin gasped. "But I don't understand."
"It has all to do with our magic, and its limitations," the Forest Lord explained. "The power of our Healers cannot extend into your world, but when we Phaerie are released from our exile, our Healing powers will also be freed from their restrictions. You can return in safety then, and be well and whole again as you were before."
Eilin was still frowning. "But I thought the Ancimi Magefolk had imprisoned you here for all eternity."
"Ah, of course! Now I perceive your confusion. I explained the prophecy to Maya and D'arvan, but I had forgotten that you would not know. But you are weary, and the midst of a meadow is no place for lengthy tales. Come back with me now, my Lady, to my Great Hall in-the citadel, where you can be refreshed and rest in comfort. Then I will tell you all that you wish to know..."
"So your - our - freedom depends on the One who comes to claim the Sword of Flame?" Eilin felt crushed all over again with disappointment. Almost, she wished that Hellorin had spared her these ridiculous notions. A Phaerie prophecy was too fragile a thread on which to hang her hopes!
"You must have faith, Lady." Hellorin took her hand. "Believe me, had you known the Dragonfolk as I did, their words could not have failed to comfort you. Events are in motion - we have only to wait."
"Yes, but for how long?" A tear trembled on Eilin's eyelash, "Events are in motion as we speak, out there in the world! My doing goodness-knows-what with this magic sword of yours -" Her words were lost in a sob. "They need me, Hellorin! While I am forced to kick my heels in this - this Nowhere, and I don't even know what is happening -" To her dismay, she was weeping again.
"Hush, Lady, hush," Hellorin comforted her. "There, at least, I can ease your mind. Come, Eilin, I have one more wonder to show you."
Taking the Mage's hand, he led her away from the fire, toward the far end of the hall. There, to Eilin's puzzlement, a short flight of stone steps ended in nothing. They simply went halfway up the wall - and stopped. Above them, the wall was hidden by a rich hanging of green-gold brocade. Hellorin mounted the steps, taking her with him, and pulled the curtain aside.
Eilin gasped. There, set high in the wall, was a glorious window of glittering, many-hued crystal shaped like a sunburst. Around the edges, the richly colored panes sent pinpoints of jeweled light cascading into the chamber. In the center was a single, circular pane, set at eye level from the vantage point of the stairway.
"Here." Hellorin guided her forward with an arm around her shoulders. "Look through my window."
"Oh!" The Mage blinked, rubbed her eyes - and peered closer. "By all the Gods, it's Nexis!" She swung around to face him, suddenly suspicious. "Is this more of your Phaerie trickery?"
"Upon my oath it is not!" The Forest Lord's eyes glinted with annoyance. "Gods, but if you are not the most contrary, stiff-necked creature ever to come within these walls!" Suddenly he began to laugh softly, shaking his head. "Nay, but I have not enjoyed such a battle of wits and wills since I lost my poor Adrina... Trust me, Lady Eilin - you I would not deceive. This is my Window upon the World, left me by your ancestors, no doubt to tantalize me with all that the Phaerie were missing! It was through this casement that I first saw Adrina, collecting her dealing herbs in the forest..."
He ease you, Lady, we will come here whenever you wish and keep vigil together, until our exile may be ended at last.
The Earth-Mage looked up at the Lord of the Phaene, suddenly and utterly moved by his kindness. How could her ancestors have been so cruel as to shut this magnificent, kindly, warm hearted being away from the world? Her fingers tightened in his hand, glad for the first time of their acquaintance she smiled at him. "Thank you, my Lord, 'she said simply. I would like that very much.
Chapter 26
A BARGAIN WITH DEATH
Anvar's endurance had finally reached an end. After many days - he had lost count of how many - in the slave camp, he was laid low by a fever carried by the whining, biting insects. One morning he found himself unable to rise, his body wracked by shivers and delirium. The overseer rolled him over with a sandaled foot. "This one is finished." The words echoed weirdly in Anvar's receding consciousness. "Get the others to work, and we'll see to him later. What a pity-already he has won me a month's wages. Had he lasted a little longer it would have been more."
These were the last words that Anvar heard as he was drawn down, down into a spiraling blackness. In that moment, all pain and sorrow and weariness lifted from his heart, and gladly he let go, to commence the final journey.
For several days after her talk with Harihn, Aurian did little but eat and sleep, and argue with the surgeon about when she could get out of bed. The search for Anvar had made no progress, and she was anxious to get matters moving at her speed. But the surgeon remained obdurate, and to her dismay, she was prevented from trying out her injured leg by Shia, who had come down unexpectedly but firmly on the side of the wrinkled little man. Since the great cat never left her side, Aurian found herself helplessly confined to bed, waited on hand and foot by the gigantic Bohan. Out of gratitude for his devotion, and the well-meaning concern of both Shia and her host, Aurian tried to curb her irritation, but her frustration was mounting with each passing day.
Harihn spent a good deal of time with the Mage, and in the course of their conversations, told her about the city-state of Taibeth, to which she had come. It was the capital city and northernmost outpost of the Khazalim, most of whom lived a nomadic life in the arid wilderness to the south of the great river valley, or dwelt in scattered settlements to the west, farther up the river. "It is a difficult land," he told her, "and the Khazalim are a difficult people - fierce, Warlike, and merciless to their enemies. My father is a good example of our race."
With that, he went on to speak of his unhappy childhood. The Prince's mother had been a princess of the Xandim, who lived far across the desert and were renowned for their legendary horses. She had been captured on a raid and wedded to Xiang, but her spirit had proved too proud and independent to suit the Khisu. When Harihn was a boy, Xiang had finally had his mother drowned in the river by assassins, claiming her death as an accident. Her son had spent his childhood roaming the Royal Palace, lonely and unloved, a constant victim of his father's brutality. But the Khisu had never taken another Queen, and as sole royal heir, Harihn's life had been preserved - until now.
Harihn, to Aurian's dismay, refused to let go of the idea of somehow using Anvar to discredit the new Queen. "Truly," he said, "your husband may yet prove to be a weapon for me against my royal father."
"Now wait a minute," Aurian broke in. "I'm not having Anvar put in danger because of this feud of yours."
"Danger? Feud? Aurian, you do not understand." The Prince leaned forward, his eyes intense. "Your husband is in the gravest of danger, if yet he lives. If the Khisu discovers the connection between this man and his new Khisihn, then Anvar's life will not be worth a grain of sand. And what of the Khisihn herself? I saw her ruthlessness when she pleaded for your death. She would never leave your man alive to give away her secret! Nay, I must intensify the search at once. I would rather have this pawn in my hands as soon as possible, not only for your peace of mind and for my benefit, but for his own safety."
Nonetheless, it was another four days before the search yielded. Any results. Aurian, driven mad with impatience, had finally won the right to be allowed out of bed. Her persistence had worn down Harihn, the surgeon, and Shia, to the point where it had been decided that Bohan should carry her outside, and settle her on a comfortable chair in the lavish walled garden, with her injured leg propped up on a footstool. She was sternly forbidden to get to her feet, however, and the eunuch remained in constant attendance on her to see to her every need.
Well, it's progress at least, Aurian thought glumly. At first she had badgered the Prince to remove those accursed bracelets and let her Heal herself, but he had told her that the secret of their unlocking had long been lost by the Khazalim. Besides, according to an ancient law, the freeing of a sorcerer within the bounds of the kingdom would result in all parties concerned being flayed alive. Though the Mage had grudgingly dropped the matter, it only served 'to increase her despair.
Aurian sat by the ornamental pool in the shade of a flowering tree, inwardly fuming. Shia, having utterly lost patience with her irascible friend, had taken herself off to sleep in the shade. The Mage was moodily shredding the waxy, perfumed, trumpet like blossoms between her fingers and throwing the fragments into the pool, where they were instantly seized by the greedy golden carp - and just as instantly spat out again. But they kept trying, all the same. Stupid things, Aurian thought grouchily. You'd think they'd learn.
Just then Bohan, who had been sitting on the grass nearby, leapt to his feet at the sound of approaching footsteps, and hastily prostrated himself before his Prince, who came hurrying along the terrace, his face alight. "News, Aurian," he cried. "I have news at last!"
Aurian tried to rise, but he pushed her gently down again into the chair. Pain lanced through her strapped ribs, but she ignored it. "Tell me!" She cried. Harihn dropped to the grass beside her, panting in the enervating heat, and poured two goblets of wine from the jug on the low table beside her. "We located the captain of the Corsair ship last night," he said. "Naturally he was reluctant to admit to illegal trade in foreigners, but a brief sojourn in my dungeon soon changed that!" His eyes sparkled with a savage glee that Aurian found distasteful. Like father, like son, she thought. I ought to be more careful.
"It seems," Harihn continued, "that he sold your Anvar to a notorious slave trader named Zahn. My men paid him a visit this morning. At first he denied all knowledge of the matter, but when offered a simple choice - a large bribe on the one hand, or a visit to his friend the captain in my dungeon on the other - he became most helpful. It is just as well," he said, frowning. "Had I been forced to arrest Zahn, it would have attracted the Khisu's attention. Zahn is his main source of slaves to build his summer palace. If my father had found out about your husband, things might have gone very badly for us all."
"Never mind that," Aurian prompted impatiently, not interested in any of this - a mistake, as she was later to discover. "Where is Anvar? What did you find out?"
"Try not to hope too much, Aurian." Harihn's face grew somber. "Zahn sold him to the work gangs building my father's summer palace upriver. The Khisu only wants it finished, and cares not how many lives he wastes to gain his ends. I visited the place once. The brutality with which the slaves were treated made me sick." He took hold of the Mage's hand. "Aurian, your Anvar went there several weeks ago, and slaves die in that place like flies. And you Northerners have not the constitution for this climate. It is almost certain that he is dead, Lady."
"No!" Seeing her stricken face, he went on quickly. "But I have readied a boat, and I will go myself, at once, to see."
Instantly the old glint was back in Aurian's eyes. "Good," she said. "I thought I would have to talk you into it for a minute. How soon can we start?"
Harihn stared at her, taking in the strapping on her ribs that was visible through the gauzy white robe that she wore, the leg tightly swathed in bandages, and the left arm still in a sling to immobilize it as much as possible. Fading bruises lingered on her arms and her pallid face. "Aurian, you cannot go," he told her firmly.
Aurian's jaw tightened. "Would you care to wager on that my Prince?"
At any other time, the journey upriver would have been very pleasant. Aurian and Harihn reclined on cushions beneath a shady canopy, the ever attentive Bohan fanning away the swarms of insects that hovered over the sluggish waters. Though Harihn had forsaken his extravagant royal barge for a plainer craft in order to attract as little attention as possible, there was an unmistakable air of luxury about the voyage. Fruit and wine had been provided, but the Mage was far too anxious to eat. She sat bolt upright, gazing upriver, willing the bargemen to row faster. Never in her life had she bitten her nails, but she was doing it now.
Harihn watched her, a frown on his face. "Aurian," he said at last. "Must you fret so?"
"What do you think?" Aurian snapped. "How can I not fret when Anvar is suffering so badly? I blame myself for this." Her voice was bitter.
"Aurian, what could you have done?" The Prince sat up and laid a soothing hand on her arm. "You take too much upon yourself. What's done is done - remember how near you came to losing your own life. You might have turned your back on Anvar, as the Khisihn has done, but you did not. What more can you do? Whether we come in time or no, we will not come any quicker for your worrying."
"I know," Aurian said miserably. "I just can't help it."
As the barge approached the jetty at the site of the summer palace, Aurian could see for herself how badly the slaves were abused, and how much they suffered. Her throat constricted with fear. Surely Anvar could never have survived this? Why, oh why had she ever left him? Her knuckles tightened, the nails of her clenched fingers digging into the soft wood of the barge's rail.
When they were safely moored, Bohan carried the Mage ashore and set her down on the dusty ground while Harihn sent for the Slavemaster. They waited. Aurian was in a fever of impatience. Shia, to her disgust, had been made to stay behind, but Harihn had brought his surgeon with them. The little man was frowning, his lips pursed in disapproval at what he saw. When Aurian caught his eye, he responded with a slight shake of his head. "Oh, please," she began to pray, even though she knew now that the Gods she had grown up with had only been Magefolk like herself. "Please..."
The Slavemaster duly arrived. Recognizing his Prince with a start, he dropped to the ground, quaking all over. Harihn hastily summoned him to rise and drew him to one side, out of earshot. Their discussion seemed interminable to Aurian. Though she was unable to hear, she could see the Slavemaster spreading his hands in denial and shaking his head vehemently. At last Harihn tired of the argument, and snapped his fingers. Immediately two grim-faced palace guards, armed with great curved scimitars, climbed out of the barge and positioned themselves on either side of the Slavemaster with drawn blades.
