Kitabı oku: «Sky Trillium», sayfa 5
‘Ah,’ breathed the Queen, smiling with relief. ‘Of course. I fear that I take its magic too much for granted.’ Her hand moved briefly to touch her bodice, where her own amulet was hidden.
Haramis smiled. Her trillium-amber nestled within the silvery wings of the Circle wand hanging about her neck. ‘Kadi will be shielded from the oversight of those who would do her harm through magic. The amber has other powers, but that one is perhaps the most valuable.’
‘The Star Men or their followers may still recognize my person as I go among them,’ Kadiya admitted, ‘as I may know them by their Stars. But I will disguise myself and my travelling party well. Perhaps, if I can persuade the amber to obey, I will even be able to go invisible!’
‘If you take any of your Mire Folk with you to Sobrania, you will be conspicuous,’ Anigel warned. ‘The aborigines of that distant region are said to be much different in appearance from those of the Peninsula.’
‘I must take Jagun, for his counsel is necessary, as is his ability to speak without words across long distances and keep me in touch with Haramis. My other comrades on this quest will be human … Ani, I ask that you find six of your most valiant young Oathed Companions to accompany me as volunteers. The Wyvilo will take us down the Great Mutar to Var and the sea. I have friends in the Varonian capital who will provide us with a ship and all other things necessary for the Sobranian quest.’
The acrobats did a spectacular turn and the Queen clapped her hands dutifully. ‘It seems you have thought of everything. Of course I will find you six brave knights. More, if you wish.’
‘I would travel lightly and swiftly. Six will suffice.’
‘There is still great danger in the enterprise,’ Haramis noted. ‘And as you have said, if Orogastus should once again obtain a working talisman, not even trillium-amber would prevent him from viewing and listening to all of us. With a talisman, he could locate you easily, Kadi. I do not know if he could slay you while you wear the amber, but you would ill serve our cause embedded in a block of blue ice like poor Iriane.’
Kadiya grinned at the Archimage. ‘It is your job to see that does not happen. Keep me under surveillance as best you can, and warn me of danger if you are able to. I will find the Star Men’s nest and smoke them out like night-carollers from a honey-tree.’
‘You will act only according to our agreed plan!’ the Archimage admonished. ‘You must not attack Orogastus or the Star Guild on your own!’
Kadiya sketched a mocking bow. ‘Of course not, White Lady.’
‘Forgive my abruptness,’ Haramis apologized. ‘But for the love of God, Kadi – promise me to eschew any rash action.’ ‘You must take great care,’ Anigel added. ‘I feel guilty – my own task is so much easier and safer than yours. Dearest Kadi, I would accompany you myself, together with all my knights of the Oathed Company, if I were bearing but a single babe and not triplets.’
‘Triplets!’ Both Kadiya and the Archimage were astounded.
‘Immu has only lately been certain of it,’ the Queen said, referring to the little old Nyssomu woman who had been midwife to their own unfortunate mother, Queen Kalanthe, and later the nurse and trusted friend to the sisters.
‘Can this pregnancy be another omen?’ Haramis wondered. ‘Might these also be children of high and awful destiny, as we Three were?’
Anigel placed a reassuring hand on that of the Archimage. ‘More likely it is an entirely natural thing. At any rate, Immu says that all of my unborn babes are boys, so the Petals of the Living Trillium need fear no usurpers.’
‘Idiot!’ laughed Kadiya, and turned in her chair to embrace and kiss Anigel. ‘May the Flower bless you and your new sons. Antar must be so proud.’
‘He is,’ said the Queen, ‘and so are my two eldest children. Only Tolivar seems dismayed by the prospect. Twelve is such a difficult age, when a boy is on the brink of manhood and torn by unfamiliar emotions. Poor Tolo has always been plagued by self-doubt and envy of his older brother and sister, and he seems now to resent the impending birth of the babes. But when he sees them, I am sure he will love them dearly.’
Haramis and Kadiya exchanged glances over their sister’s head. Young Prince Tolivar was a secretive and jealous boy who had been a thoroughgoing brat not too many years earlier. He bitterly resented being subordinate to Crown Prince Nikalon, who at fifteen was not only taller and better looking but also considerably more popular with the courtiers and common people. Princess Janeel, a year younger than Niki and clever as a she-fedok, had never been able to resist teasing her little brother, whom she thought deficient in character. Tolo loathed her heartily in return.
Over the years, Kadiya had made a special effort to be kind to the unhappy younger Prince; but she feared he might think she was only taking pity on him. Tolivar seemed to have no real affection for either of his illustrious aunts and had been barely civil when presented to them tonight before dinner.
Kadiya now studied the lad, who sat with the other royal and noble youth at one of the tables not far from the triplet sisters. Crown Prince Nikalon and Princess Janeel were laughing and throwing coins with the others as the acrobats retired, but Tolivar only sat with his elbows on the table, an inscrutable expression on his face.
The boy’s mire-name was Hiddenheart. And Kadiya thought that it suited him only too well.
‘Tolo needs to be given useful work to do,’ she said. ‘Ani, have you ever considered cutting him free of your apron strings? Letting him leave the court for a time, so he would not constantly compare himself to Niki or feel belittled by Jan?’
‘He was always my baby,’ Anigel confessed, ‘and since he was restored to me four years ago I have kept him close to me, hoping that my love would suffice to boost his fragile self-esteem. But perhaps you are right. The newborn sons will take all of my attention for some time, and Tolo might possibly feel worse than ever.’
‘Let the lad accompany me,’ Kadiya said impulsively. ‘Perhaps not as far as Sobrania, but at least during the first part of my mission. Jagun and I will keep him so busy he’ll have no time to sulk or feel sorry for himself
‘He is so young,’ Anigel said, looking doubtful, ‘and his body is not strong.’
Kadiya’s expression was sardonic. ‘He survived being snatched by pirates and held captive by Orogastus. Even though he is a bit lacking in stature, he is robust enough. Do not overprotect the boy, Ani. We may not deny children the right to encounter and overcome great obstacles. Such can turn even a shy or petulant soul heroic.’
‘As I myself know full well,’ the Queen admitted, smiling. ‘What do you think, Hara?’
‘The idea has merit,’ said the Archimage, ‘provided that the lad is carefully supervised. Is not the retired stablemaster Ralabun his close friend? He is a responsible person, if not overly endowed with brains. Perhaps he could accompany Tolo.’
‘Let us put it to the boy himself,’ Kadiya suggested. ‘I would not take him, were he unwilling.’
‘Very well.’ Queen Anigel gave in with reluctance. ‘But if he accepts, you must promise to send him home before you venture beyond the Peninsula.’
‘He and Ralabun can catch a fast Engian cutter to Labornok from Mutavari,’ Kadiya said, ‘and with fair winds, reach Derorguila not too long after the arrival of the royal entourage. What say we speak to the boy right now?’
‘We may as well.’ The Queen beckoned to a page, telling him to summon Prince Tolivar to the high table.
CHAPTER 6
Tolo’s mouth tightened as the message was given to him.
‘Now what trouble have you got yourself into?’ Princess Janeel inquired. ‘Have you filled too many wagons with boxes of your precious books?’
‘Perhaps,’ Crown Prince Nikalon suggested, ‘he decided to take so many that there was no room for his boots or underwear.’
That set the entire table of young people to laughing. Tolo flushed and lowered his head to hide his anger as he accompanied the page to the high table and bowed deeply.
‘How may I serve you, Great Queen and Mother?’ he inquired. All expression had now been banished from his features. He was a thin lad with fair hair and skin that was very pale, as though he spent too much time sequestered indoors.
‘Your Aunt Kadiya has a proposition to put to you,’ Anigel said.
The Lady of the Eyes explained in some detail, not minimizing the hardships of the expedition, for they would travel downstream when the Great Mutar was in flood, and the seas on his journey home from Var would doubtless be wracked by storms.
To Anigel’s surprise, Prince Tolivar’s listlessness dropped away like the husk of an emergent nas-beetle. His eyes shone with excitement and he exclaimed, ‘Oh, yes, Aunt Kadi! Take me and Ralabun with you! I promise to obey you in everything, and never complain or shirk my duties or vex you.’
‘Then it is settled,’ the Lady of the Eyes said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.
‘I only wish you would let me help in your quest against the Star Men,’ Tolivar said stoutly.
The three women laughed.
‘You are brave, but still too young,’ said the Archimage.
‘The world must be saved from Orogastus,’ the lad said in a low voice. ‘I have personal knowledge of his evil and treacherous ways. If necessary, I would give my life to destroy him.’
‘It will suffice if you serve your aunt faithfully,’ said the Queen. ‘Leave graver matters to those older and wiser.’
‘Yes, Mother.’ The Prince’s demeanour could not have been more respectful and docile. He bowed and took his leave from the great hall, saying he was eager to tell the exciting news to Ralabun.
‘Poor Tolo.’ Anigel’s concerned gaze followed her son. ‘He was so deeply affected by his time of captivity with Orogastus. He still feels guilty because he believed the sorcerer’s lies about becoming his heir and his apprentice in enchantment.’
‘He was too immature then to understand the enormity of his actions,’ the Archimage said kindly.
But the Queen shook her head. ‘He was eight years old, and capable of knowing evil. Again and again he has besought Antar and me to forgive him for repudiating us, and we have tried with all our hearts to reassure him. But his guilt remains un-assuaged. Kadi … be kind to him. Try to ease his troubled spirit.’
‘I will do what I can,’ said the Lady of the Eyes, ‘but I suspect Tolo’s healing will come only with time. And with some atoning action he himself must perform.’
‘The times are perilous,’ Haramis said with a sigh. ‘There will be dangers and challenges and opportunities for heroism sufficient for all of us, even the young Prince. Pray that we will measure up to them, Sisters. Pray with all your hearts and souls, for I cannot help but feel that some fresh disaster will confront us very soon.’
Long after the midnight hour he dared to unlock his iron strongbox, which he had refused to let the servants take away until the very moment of the caravan’s departure. He took out the smaller cloth bag, unwrapped the Three-Headed Monster, and held it in trembling hands. The silvery coronet shone in the light of the guttering candle on the bedside stand, shadows making the awful faces carved upon it seem almost alive.
Did he dare? Was there a chance of success if he did?
The unexpected great opportunity had come almost like a miracle, but it would not last long. He placed the coronet upon his head, took a deep breath, and strove to speak without faltering.
‘Three-Headed Monster,’ he whispered, ‘you belong to me! Answer me true: If I obtain the dead Three-Lobed Burning Eye from my Aunt Kadiya and place it in the star-box, will it bond to me?’
For a moment, nothing happened. Then a mysterious voice within his own head replied: Yes. If you press the coloured gems within the box in consecutive order, the Eye will cleave to you alone, slaying any other person who presumes to touch it without your permission.
‘Will the Eye obey my commands?’
It will, if the commands are pertinent.
Tolivar nearly shouted with elation. ‘Can – can you make me invisible so that I may enter my aunt’s room without her seeing me?’
The question is impertinent.
The Prince nearly burst into tears of frustration. Not again! Not now! ‘Make me invisible! I command you!’
The request is impertinent.
The talisman would sometimes obey his commands – especially when he asked it simple questions, or bade it give him Sight of some person or place far distant – but more often it spoke that maddening phrase of refusal. His attempts at sorcery, undertaken either in the hut out in the mire or in his other hiding place in the Derorguila ruins, had always been timid and hesitant and not often successful. Tolivar had good reason to be afraid of his talisman. Sometimes, for reasons unknown, the power would turn upon the one who wielded it. This had happened to Orogastus while Tolivar was his hostage. The sorcerer had not been seriously hurt.
Hut even though there was danger, Tolivar could not let this fortuitous opportunity pass by.
‘I will not give way to faintheartedness,’ the Prince said to himself. ‘After all, the Monster did make me invisible once before, when I first obtained it.’ He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed slowly in and out until he felt calmer, and then spoke to the talisman again, this time choosing his words with care.
‘Instruct me how I may become invisible.’
Visualize the deed to be accomplished and then command it.
Could it be that simple? Was the talisman’s operation triggered by his thoughts, then, rather than by spoken words? Was that the great secret to successful wizardry? It was a notion that the boy had never considered before. Had he perhaps done the visualization inadvertently earlier on, when issuing the successful magical commands?
Let it be! Please, let it be!
With his eyes still closed, Tolivar conjured a picture of himself within his imagination, sitting on the bed in his room, wearing the coronet. Keeping the vision clear, he caused his body to fade away like dissipating smoke. He did not speak until the imaginary bedroom was empty.
‘Talisman,’ he intoned, ‘now render me invisible.’ He waited for a few heartbeats, then opened his eyes. Slowly, he lifted his hand in front of his face.
He saw nothing but the room and its furniture.
There was a small mirror mounted on the wall near the washstand, and he rushed to it. No face returned his gaze into the glass! The talisman had obeyed him.
He sat down on a stool and pulled off his boots (which immediately became visible once they dropped from his hands), and ran on tiptoe to the door. There he paused as a thought struck him, inspired by the reappearing boots. Would the Burning Eye seem to vanish when he picked it up? If it did not, and if Aunt Kadiya woke and saw it wafting away from her, borne by a magical force, she might lash out with her dagger. Invisible or not, if that happened he might be wounded or even killed.
He experimented, lifting the silver pitcher from its basin on the washstand, and uttered a groan of disappointment. Horrors! The thing did remain quite visible, seeming to float in mid-air. But then he collected himself, once more closed his eyes, and imagined that the pitcher disappeared. Without speaking aloud this time, he formulated a thought-command:
Talisman, render the pitcher invisible.
He opened his eyes. His fingers still grasped a smooth metal handle and his arm muscles were aware of a weight being held. But he saw nothing. Carefully, he put the invisible pitcher back into its basin. He heard a faint clink, withdrew his hand momentarily, then poked the unseen vessel. It was there, all right.
He found himself smothering a delighted laugh. He was getting the hang of it! Not even speech was truly needed. The thought was what counted in wreaking magic.
‘Is that true?’ he asked the talisman.
And the voice within him said: Yes.
Serious again, he caused the pitcher to reappear. Then he slipped out into the corridor and headed for his Aunt Kadiya’s room.
She had kept it, as always, at her side in bed; but when she awoke the next morning the Three-Lobed Burning Eye was gone, leaving only its empty scabbard. Jagun swore to her that no one had entered, for he had slept just outside her door. The Citadel servants and guards had noticed nothing unusual. Nevertheless the Burning Eye had undeniably been stolen.
What was worse, Haramis’ Three-Winged Circle refused to show the whereabouts of the magical pointless sword, nor would it say who was the thief.
‘This can only mean,’ the White Lady said to her two badly shaken sisters, ‘that Kadi’s talisman is now bonded to another and empowered. There is no use attempting a physical search of Ruwenda Citadel. It is too vast, with countless potential hiding places. Besides, the thief is no doubt long gone with his booty. A search would not only be futile, it would also trumpet the fact of the second talisman’s theft and dishearten the people. Only we Three and Jagun must know of this.’
‘Now we are surely lost,’ the Queen said, her voice heavy with despair. ‘All this time, one of my own courtiers has had both the star-box and my purloined coronet! And now he owns the Burning Eye as well. The wretch is probably already on his way to a rendezvous with Orogastus! The situation is hopeless.’
‘Don’t talk like a fool, Ani,’ snapped Kadiya. ‘We will carry on – as we did once before when the sorcerer himself owned two talismans. Now that was a time seeming to be truly without hope – and yet we prevailed. If the Triune wills, we shall do so this time also.’
On the following day the three sisters said their farewells and quit Ruwenda Citadel.
The Archimage Haramis used her magic to transport herself instantly to her Tower on Mount Brom. There she began preparing proposals for the defensive conference in Derorguila, as well as devising instructions for those Folk who were to be entrusted with the blockade of the viaducts. After that she intended to search her own archives and those of the Blue Lady, in the hope of discovering a way to either control the invisible portals or destroy them. She was not optimistic of swift success.
Kadiya, Prince Tolivar, Ralabun, and six of the Queen’s valorous Oathed Companions set off on the first leg of their journey to far Sobrania. The Prince was allowed to bring along a locked iron box of modest size, which he said contained certain of his most valued books.
Lightweight boats drawn by rimoriks would carry them through Lake Wum. After bypassing Tass Falls they were to travel down the Great Mutar through the vast Tassaleyo Forest to the Wyvilo town of Let, where they would take passage on an aboriginal tradeboat bound for the kingdom of Var and the Southern Sea.
∗ ∗ ∗
The caravan with Queen Anigel, King Antar, and all of their court began the long journey northward to Labornok, which was expected to take at least thirty days. The Wet Time was now well and truly begun, and unrelenting rain poured down upon the long train of coaches, carts, riders, and foot travellers like a cataract from heaven.
In spite of the inclement weather, the advance of the slowly moving royal entourage through the swamp was marked by many a furtive eye.
CHAPTER 7
By the time the travelling court was ten days out of the Citadel, Anigel was bored to death riding in her lumbering great carriage with Immu and the four ladies-in-waiting. The new Queen’s Mireway, opened only the previous year, was living up to its reputation as a great marvel of the world. It was as sturdy as any dryland thoroughfare, even in the exceptionally heavy rains that plagued the trip this year, and Anigel saw no reason why she should not go riding up and down the procession visiting and sightseeing, as the King and the royal children and the male members of the nobility did.
The women were shocked at her daring and tried to dissuade her, but the Queen swept their objections aside. After all, it was her mireway. For nearly six years she had supervised its construction, eking out funds from a shaky budget, coping with rebellious Glismak road-gangs and other aboriginal problems, and bolstering the confidence of engineers who insisted that certain sections of the thoroughfare could never be built.
Anigel lowered the coach window and called to a page riding hard by. ‘Summon the Royal Fronial Master.’ She smiled at the perturbed noble ladies around her. ‘I refuse to travel shut up in a stuffy coach like an invalid simply because I am with child. It will not harm my unborn babes if I take to the saddle in the honest Ruwendian rain.’
‘But such things are not done by pregnant queens!’ exclaimed Lady Belineel. She was of an ancient Labornoki family, and only too eager to voice disapproval of the more easygoing Ruwendian customs.
Surprisingly, the old Nyssomu nurse Immu piped up in support of Belineel. ‘Your mireway is not Derorguila High Street, my Queen. It traverses some of the most dangerous country in the Peninsula, particularly in this section, and there is a scent of Skritek spawn in the air. I beg you to stay in the carriage.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Anigel. ‘I smell only muck and wet leaves and the spoor of harmless tarenials – and someone’s oversweet perfume, which is giving me a headache.’ She called out the carriage window to the middle-aged peer she had caused to be summoned. ‘Lord Karagil, pray bring me a mount at once, and have my Oathed Companions attend me. I will ride for the rest of the day.’
‘This is very unwise,’ Immu said grumpily. ‘One shouldn’t take chances when spawn are about.’
The Fronial Master was equally dismayed at Anigel’s decision. ‘The Oddling nurse is right about the Skritek, my Queen, for our scouts have come upon fresh sign. It is unusual for the horrid offspring of the Drowners to range this far east, but –’
‘Obey me,’ said the Queen, her voice low and pleasant but her intent unshaken. ‘If my Oathed Companions cannot protect me from Skritek spawn, then it is time they turned in their swords and took up fancy needlework. I shall first visit with my Royal Husband, who is in the advance party.’
‘Stubborn stubborn stubborn!’ said Immu to Anigel, using the overfamiliar manner of venerable retainers. ‘It is indecent for a gravid royal woman to go off galloping amongst a cavalcade of soldiers and teamsters – even if there were no danger from spawn.’
‘Nevertheless,’ Anigel said blithely, ‘I am going.’
Immu besought the noblewomen. ‘Will not one of you ride with the Queen?’
But the ladies only made excuses and continued to remonstrate. Finally, Immu said, ‘Then I will go myself!’
Anigel looked upon the Nyssomu nurse with some doubt. ‘You may certainly ride pillion with me if you insist, dear friend. But I daresay it will be most uncomfortable for a small person such as yourself, jouncing along at my back.’
Lord Karagil suddenly brightened. ‘I have an idea that may serve all purposes,’ he declared, and rode off. He returned anon with two grooms, one leading a white fronial caparisoned royally for the Queen and the other bringing the she-beast’s gentle, half-grown colt, fitted out with an improvised saddle and bridle for Immu.
Happily, Anigel put on boots and a cloak. Accompanied by twenty knights of her Oathed Companions, and with Immu following resignedly on the long-legged colt, the Queen rode forward along the line of march until she reached the vanguard. There she found King Antar and his commander-in-chief, General Gorkain, dismounted at one of the new bridges that spanned a swollen tributary of the River Virkar. They were conferring with two aboriginal scouts clad in the livery of the Two Thrones. Lord Marshal Lakanilo and numbers of other noble officers sat their steeds close by, waiting upon the royal pleasure. They wore only light helmets and cuirasses beneath their raincloaks, as did the Oathed Companions, the King, and the General. A troop of well-equipped men-at-arms and a single knight in full battle-armour had gone down to the riverbank, where they prepared to board a large raft manned by two human boatmen and a Nyssomu guide.
King Antar greeted his wife and the other comers courteously, then showed Anigel the map he and Gorkain and the scouts had been studying.
‘One of those infernal viaducts Haramis warned us about lies some six leagues downstream from here,’ Antar told her. ‘Soldiers under Sir Olevik’s command have volunteered to guard it while the main body of our train passes by. They will travel on that raft.’
‘But what can our brave men do,’ the Queen asked in a low voice, ‘if villains should pop through the magical doorway while they are on watch? Soldiers cannot fight magic, and surely there will be no time to barricade the viaduct effectively.’
‘No, my Queen,’ General Gorkain admitted. ‘In truth, all that Sir Olevik and his force can hope for is to divert any invaders for a brief period, selling their lives dearly while their Oddling comrade bespeaks us fair warning.’
‘They are brave hearts,’ Anigel murmured.
‘There is small chance of an attack by Star Men so soon,’ Antar reassured her. ‘Nor is Orogastus likely to assail a huge, well-armed column such as ours. We are merely taking due precaution.’
‘Within two tennights,’ said one of the little Nyssomu scouts, ‘our Folk dwelling in this part of the Mazy Mire will have secured that viaduct, as the White Lady and the Lady of the Eyes have commanded. We will heap a tall mound of stone and soil over the site and set a guard.’
‘It will be very hard for Star Men to emerge unnoticed from a viaduct after this is done,’ said the other scout. ‘They will have to resort to powerful magic to dig their way out. This we will surely detect, and then sound the alarm in the speech without words.’
Anigel looked again at the map. ‘It seems there are no more viaducts near to the road until we reach the mountains. We can be thankful for that.’
A ragged cheer now arose from the Oathed Companions as the raft with Sir Olevik and his men pushed off from the shore. ‘May the Flower bless you,’ the Queen called, sketching the sign of the Trillium in the air beyond the bridge railing, ‘and bring you back safely to our company.’
Those on the raft responded with spirited cries of their own, brandishing their arms. Then the raft rounded a bend and was lost to sight behind a dense stand of trees.
The advance riders resumed their slow progress through the rain, with Anigel and Antar riding side by side amidst the troop of knights, and Immu trailing behind the Queen. Coming after them at a fair distance was a parade over two leagues in length: volumnial-drawn wagons loaded with baggage of the court, more carts carrying food and supplies, fine coaches and carriages bearing the nobility and civil servants, royal officers and knights on fronial-back, and nearly a thousand other retainers both mounted and afoot. Double files of soldiery plodded along on either side of the main column, and the sound of their singing came softly through the swamp to the ears of those riding ahead.
The Queen was well content now, making proud inspection of her mireway. What had been from time immemorial an indistinct and hazardous track only negotiable in the Dry Time (and then only by those possessing local knowledge or the secret maps of the Master Traders) was now a handsome paved road. Its elevated bed, formed of alternate layers of crushed rock and massive logs from the Tassaleyo Forest, stood three ells or more above the swamp and was surfaced with cobblestones. Wooden bridges had replaced the old fords over streams and rivers, save for the crossing of the broad Virkar at the edge of the Dylex country, where there was a ferry. Hostels with guardposts, sited a day’s journey apart, provided secure places where smaller parties of travellers or merchant caravans might rest; but the huge royal train perforce camped on the road itself, with only the royalty and elderly or infirm nobles taking shelter beneath hostel roofs.
The middle section of the mireway that the entourage now traversed was more narrow than the rest since it had been so difficult to build. Twisting nearly a hundred leagues between Bonar Castle and the Dylex city of Virk, this part of the road crossed a wilderness devoid of human habitation. Soaring trees and dense tangles of thorn-fern, vines, and nearly impenetrable vegetation hemmed in the mireway and even overhung it in many stretches, so that it sometimes seemed to Queen Anigel that they rode through a green tunnel curtained by misty rain.
The advance party made a halt at midday, eating cold food and resting while a welcome sun broke briefly through the clouds, causing the roadway to steam. But by the time the riders remounted storm clouds had returned, together with a rising wind. Nevertheless Anigel found herself dozing in the saddle as the patient fronials moved slowly onward, their antlered heads bobbing, the tendons in their legs clicking, and their splayed hooves clip-clopping on the mossy stones. Overhead, the leaden sky became more and more oppressive, although the heavy rain held off.
The Queen was jolted into wakefulness when occasional whiffs of stomach-turning stench began to contaminate the wind. No one was much surprised when General Gorkain came riding back through the ranks of knights and saluted the King and Queen before delivering grim news.
‘A scout reports freshly scoured raffin bones on the mireway ahead, and the cobbles show sign of Skritek spawn. We will halt here in order to close up the gap between our advance group and the main body of the caravan. The Lord Marshal and the Oathed Companions will provide Your Majesties with close escort, and foot-soldiery will come forward to accompany us until the danger is past. I have also sent a messenger to summon Crown Prince Nikalon and Princess Janeel. It is no longer safe for them to range up and down the procession casually with their young friends.’
