Angus Wells - The God Wars 03 (10 page)

           
"You say it so?" Katya
demanded when he paused again.

           
"I say it so," he
confirmed, "even though you'd attempt it."

           
"You forbid us?" snapped
Bracht.

           
And Ochen raised a hand, mildly
gesturing the Kern to silence. "I say that magic of inconceivable power is
vested there," he answered. "That layer upon layer of barriers exist.
Do you folk of Cuan na'For—folk known for your courage—not avoid the Geff Pass,
that place you name Hell Mouth? Do such creatures as inhabit nightmares not
dwell therein? I tell you that worse exist in the Borrhun- maj, and that they
are no more than gatekeepers."

           
"Gatekeepers may be
avoided," Bracht said, "and monsters slain."

           
"Oh, that I know. And that
you've done as much."

           
Ochen smiled briefly as the Kern
frowned. "Much of what you three have accomplished we wazirs have seen.
But I tell you still that such creatures as you encountered in Tezin-dar are as
nothing to these."

           
Now Calandryll frowned, wondering
how the ancient mage came by such knowledge of their jour- neyings. What
magicks did the wazirs of the Jesseryn Plain command, that they might know of
Tezin-dar?

           
"Think you that your travails
go unnoticed?" Did Ochen read his mind? His expression? "What you
have done, what you attempt—that affects the occult fundus. The aethyr is not a
thing apart, but a realm that coexists with our mortal plane—and you are known
there."

           
"More riddles!" Bracht
reached across the table for the jug. "Must sorcerers always speak in
riddles?"

           
"At times perforce we
must," said Ochen, not offended; more amused, it seemed, for all a
terrible gravity lay beneath his words, behind his gentle smile. "The
aethyr is a hard thing to explain, neither do we who are gifted with the sight,
the talent for sorcery, always comprehend that realm—so, aye: betimes we've
only riddles to use, not plain words."

           
"I," said Bracht, "am
a plain man."

           
"Plainly," agreed Ochen,
"and you've my word I shall do my best to set this out in simple language.
But I crave your indulgence—hear me out and ask what questions you will. My
word on honest answers; though not, I fear, always simple."

           
Bracht was a little mollified by
that return and ducked his head, gesturing for the mage to continue.

           
"For now accept that your quest
was noticed," Ochen went on, "that our magicks showed us such disturbance
within the occult realm that we guessed a part and saw another. Much, I
suspect, as did the mages of Vanu." This with a glance at Katya, who
nodded confirmation. "And doubtless others. Though it would seem they saw
it unclearly, or chose to do nothing, or were otherwise occupied."

           
"Menelian said as much!"
Calandryll could not help himself: he found trust in this wizened old man
burgeoned, and a tremendous curiosity. "In Vishat'yi he said the
same."

           
"He was a sorcerer?" asked
Ochen.

           
"In service to the Tyrant of
Kandahar," Calandryll replied, choosing to ignore Bracht's warning grunt.
Did Ochen see so much, what reason to attempt concealment? "Busied with
civil war."

           
"Kandahar rises against its
Tyrant? Aught else?"

           
For an instant the narrow eyes
blazed golden, alarmed; Calandryll nodded and said, "In Lysse my brother
would raise a navy, go to war with Kandahar. In Cuan na'For, Jehenne ni Larrhyn
spoke of bellicose alliance, the invasion of Lysse."

           
"He stirs! All the gods help
us, he stirs! Thank Horul you were found!" Ochen grew agitated a moment,
calmed himself with visible effort. Across the table, Temchen and Chazali
radiated palpable tension, their armor rattling as they shifted uncomfortably,
like warhorses sensing impending battle. Then: "Endings and beginnings
entwine here, and we had best join all we know together do we dare hope for
success."

           
"You speak of Tharn?"
asked Calandryll. "Of the Mad God?"

           
"None else." Ochen
answered with a solemn nod. "But let me seek the start of this thread and
spin it out in ways we may all understand. So: the Borrhun-maj is formidably
guarded. Vile creatures roam those slopes, and did you avoid them, then still
you must face the mountains, which touch the sky and howl with such cold winds
as still the blood, even at summer's height. More—there are gramaryes set there
by the First Gods, by Yl and Kyta themselves, that none may approach those
places where they set their sons, Tharn and Balatur, when the godwars were
ended."

           
"And yet," said
Calandryll, "there is a way, no?"

           
"Aye," said Ochen.
"The which—may the gods forgive me—prompts me to wonder if even gods are
truly all-knowing. There is a way, were the traveler possessed of such
knowledge and such power as to attempt it. And were he mad enough!

           
"Listen, legend has it that we
Jesserytes were set down in this place to ward those approaches—for that
reason, and that alone, we cut ourselves off, became the Forbidden Country—that
none should find their way to Tharn's resting place. Nor Balatur's, lest that
balance brought by the Younger Gods be disturbed and all the world fall down in
chaos.

           
"That trust we have held down
all the span of centuries; and well enough, I think. But still, long and long
ago, the wazirs of that time perceived such portents as suggested the way was
found, or known of, at the least. Then, little could be done—it was scried only
that the presence of the book—the Arcanum!—was known, and that one sought it.
Who, remained a mystery, and it was believed that Tezin-dar itself was lost in
terms both physical and magical."

           
He broke off, taking more wine, as
if needing such fortification. Calandryll said bitterly, "Rhythamun!"

           
"Is such his name? I had
thought none lived so long."

           
"He changes shape/' said Katya.
"His presence became known to the holy men of Vanu. He has lived for
centuries, taking one body after another. He has the form of a Jesseryte
now."

           
"Horul!" Ochen shook his
head. "And you quest after him?"

           
"He tricked us."
Calandryll encompassed Bracht, Katya, with a glance. "We found the way to
Tezin- dar—that we might secure the Arcanum and bring it to Vanu, that the holy
men might destroy it—but Rhythamun duped us and seized the book. We three have
followed him since. We made a vow, to the Guardians of Tezin-dar."

           
"And now he is on the Jesseryn
Plain." Ochen looked to Temchen, Chazali, whose faces sat grim. "And
even in his limbo, Tharn senses his coming and lends what aid he may. War in
Kandahar, you say? The Domm of Lysse waxing bellicose? Tharn calls for blood
and his lust shakes the world."

           
"Cennaire knows his
face—Rhythamun's." Calandryll nodded in the direction of the Kand woman.
"Do you lend us your aid, perhaps we may catch him."

           
"Perhaps." Ochen fixed
Cennaire with a hooded stare. "Perhaps it is not so easy."

           
"You would not aid us?"

           
The mage turned to Bracht and said,
"Warrior, I promise you all the aid it is in my power to command. But that
may not be enough. No, wait." The same authority that earlier had stilled
sword strokes rang in his voice: Bracht frowned, quenching whatever comment
formed. "I have told you that your coming was foreseen, and so it was—that
three should enter this land in friendship—but Tharn moves to cloud the aethyr,
camouflaging his disciple's purpose, easing the passage of this Rhythamun.

           
"For that reason were you
brought to me bound, gagged—for fear you were not those scried, but agents of
that other. This land is closer than most to that limbo the god now occupies—we
are not immune to his fell workings"—a bitter laugh interrupted his
discourse—"no
_;
though since the Great Khan fell we had thought
it so. Aye, Bracht, we looked to invade your land then. Because the Khan was
tainted by Tharn's dreaming magicks, and led his clan out from Kesh-teng to
conquer all the Plain and bring all the clans under his single rule. For a
while he enjoyed success, but then the wazirs of that time, and such clans as
escaped the taint, fought him. And won—Kesh-teng exists no longer! It was
razed, and only dust remains. We believed such threat could never again bespoil
the Plain. But we were wrong—like Kandahar, we fight a war."

           
Sorrow, and more than a little
anger, etched the lines upon his face deeper then, and his voice faltered, as
if this announcement pained him beyond speaking. He dropped his head, motioning
for Chazali to continue.

           
The kiriwashen said, "The tengs
of Zaq, Fechin, and Bachan form an alliance. Pamur-teng, Ozali- teng, and
Anwar-teng stand in opposition. A madness stalks our land: the rebel horde now
closes on Anwar-teng."

           
Anwar, Calandryll realized, meant
"the Gate." An ugly suspicion stirred: he asked, "What
importance does Anwar-teng have?"

           
Ochen composed himself with visible
effort, taking up the tale again. "With the ending of the Great Khan's
tyranny the land was, for some while, in disarray. Families vied for supremacy,
outlaw bands roamed at will. Order was restored only when the
wazir-narimasu—the greatest of the sorcerer- priests—leant their support to the
Soto-Imjen, declaring that clan supreme by birth and blood. Even then, that the
Soto-Imjen should not wax prideful as had the Great Khan, the clan was required
to renounce its ancestral hold and reside in Anwar-teng, sworn to the defense
of that place. They took up residence in the holy city, peace reigned . .
." He paused, barked a single, bitter laugh. "Until recently! But I
run ahead of my tale—that none should again seek to establish himself supreme, it
- was decreed that while the Khan should be of the Soto-Imjen, each hold should
send representatives— Shendii—to Anwar-teng to sit in the Mahzlen, the Great
Council, advised by the wazir-narimasu. Our Khan is now Akija Soto-Imjen, who
is but seven years of age. Therefore, a regent was named— Nazichi Ojen-Canusi,
of Bachan-teng—which was thought a wise decision until Nazichi declared himself
Khan! He looks to establish the Canusi in place of our rightful ruler, and in
his support the representatives of Zaq-teng, Fechin-teng, and Bachan- teng
withdrew from the Mahzlen. Now the armies of those holds march out in battle
array.

           
"Anwar-teng lies under siege.
Do the insurrectionists take that place, then they possess a dreadful threat to
hold over those loyal to the Soto-Imjen and the Mahzlen."

           
"The loyal Shendii would die in
battle first," Chazali declared, his voice dour as his face. "Or take
their own lives before surrender."

           
"Whichever," Ochen said,
"chaos must surely follow. Do the rebels take Anwar-teng, they will next
move against Pamur-teng and Ozali-teng. Such bloodshed must be food and drink
to Tharn; and such warfare must render the finding of this Rhythamun mightily
difficult."

           
"Ahrd!" Bracht's voice was
soft. "We ride into another war."

           
"But you say Anwar-teng houses
these wazir- narimasu
_/
" Calandryll said, "and that they
are your most powerful sorcerers. Can they not defeat the attackers?"

           
"Were it so simple." Ochen
spread helpless hands. "But the wazir-narimasu are sworn to peace. Theirs
is another duty, and they are bound by such gramaryes as divest them of all
power do they turn to warfare. Thus are they helpless in this matter."

           
Calandryll was about to speak, to
put another question, but Bracht forestalled him. "And you," the Kern
demanded, "the wazirs like you—are you so bound?"

           
"No." The old man shook
his head. "We may use our talents in hostile manner,* though we prefer we
should not."

           
"Save those traitors with the
rebellious tengs," Chazali grunted. "Their conscience is not so
fine."

           
"Then why," Bracht began,
halting as Ochen once more raised a hand, anticipating the question.

           
"Fd ride with the loyal
armies," the wazir declared, "as would Chazali and Temchen, were
there not other matters—likely of greater import. This keep"—he waved a hand,
indicating the chamber, the walls beyond—"is manned by one hundred chosen
men. By turn and turn about each teng sends a century to guard the Daggan Vhe.
For this turn, it was the task of Pamur-teng, which sent its soldiers honestly.
A century of warriors out of Pamur-teng occupied this keep—all are dead now.
Slain by fell wizardry.