Dreams of the Compass Rose (51 page)

The queen without eyes walked with all the urgency of the sighted, and was soon within the central hall of the Compass Rose, which had become the
taqavor’s
living place.

“
My Lord
taqavor!
” she said to the hunched figure who huddled near the stone pool in the center. “Do you remember me, my Lord? You blinded me once for speaking things you did not want to hear or see, but I am again before you!”

The figure turned, fingers dripping from touching the water in the pool, and he was looking at her, at this woman with a bandage across her face. He remembered in a flash who and what she was, the memory surfacing out of the normal haze of his thoughts.

“
You!” said the
taqavor.
“Oh yes, I know you now, woman! You built this Compass Rose for me, my very own Rose. But you spoke things that were not right. And thus I had your sight taken from you, for your will cannot go beyond mine, ever.”

“
Father!” said Lirheas, approaching from the back. “This woman is now mine; I claimed her in that moment when you said no one would. You may no longer harm her, for she is my queen.” His forceful tone imbued his voice with ringing echoes, was almost unreal. For never had the Prince previously raised his voice before his Lord Father.

But his father laughed.

“
No longer harm her? Why, I can do anything I like, idiot boy. But—what difference does it make?” said the
taqavor,
continuing his odd sequence of clarity. “She is a blind weight upon you, and you are impotent, boy. Not unlike your mother.”

“
My mother! Tell me of her, once and for all!” exclaimed Lirheas, approaching the older man, and standing taller and more threatening than he’d ever been in all of his life.

The
taqavor
took a step back for the first time, almost cringed, for he had to look up to meet his son’s face, and he felt the invisible pressure from his thoughts.

And then clarity was gone.

The
taqavor
began to giggle, and he looked back and forth from his son to the woman without eyes.

“
Those women of the House of Wives,” said the queen softly, oddly drawing out her words, so great was the intensity she was holding back. “Why did you imprison them in a tomb for your . . . flowers? Even now, they live and they weep, and they call out your name. Let them out, show them mercy, for they are the mothers of your children.”

The
taqavor
watched her sightless face, watched the expression of her lips. “I want to preserve them. While they are still like flowers.”

“
Nonsense. Your mind wanders,” said the queen without eyes and without fear. “For the flowers are like ashes and not at all like women. Where is the logic in that? Ashes, flowers, women? Tell me why you do this. What do you plan? You are
taqavor
of the world, and your
empirastan
is boundless, and your truth is boundless also—is that not so? Then why make a mockery of it?”

“
Stand away from me!” he cried then, Cireive the old man, in the voice of a dark petulant child. And then he began to chuckle, mumbling, “Come along, both of you, and I will release them. . . . Come with me. . . .”

He called his guards to him. The hall trembled under their running footfalls.

“
I do not trust him,” whispered Lirheas, “He—”

“
He plans to make ashes of the women, that is clear,” said the queen without eyes. “And then he plans to make ashes out of us.”

But in the saying of that her lips curved into a smile.

C
ireive walked along the desolate gravel path toward the domed tomb. At his sides came arrow-straight rows of Palace guards, surrounding him from all sides like stalks of tall plants with swaying crowns of red feather-lightness—no, he must not think that way. A few steps behind walked his son, Prince Lirheas, and next to him the queen without eyes.

They passed what had once been lush gardens seething with flowers but were now sparse stretches of empty earth and felled shrubbery, while the intermittent moans and cries from up ahead grew louder, carried here on the wind. And soon he was before the building.

The
taqavor
stopped in front of the ornate doors, and turned to face the others. In the fading daylight of this, the fourth day, his white hair was the color of dusk and his features were crenulated with lines. Only his sky-blue eyes remained young and sharp and brilliant with intensity.

“
Enough, then. I will let them out,” said Cireive, with a simple smile. “I will allow them to live, but you must promise to tell me the truth of the world, woman, for I know that you are the only one who knows it.” He stared at the queen without eyes.

“
What?” whispered Lirheas. “What do you mean by that, my Lord Father?”

But the queen smiled and raised her hand in a gesture to stop the words of the Prince. “I will do this, Lord
taqavor
, for I know this is what has been eating you always.”

“
Yes,” whispered Cireive. “I knew you would understand. Now, tell me things. For each answer you give me, I will let one of them go. Guards, open the doors, but stand closely and do not let them run out in a crowd. Allow one only to pass at a time upon my signal.”

“
What madness is this . . .” muttered Lirheas. “Will there be a hundred and fifty-three questions and a hundred and fifty-three truths to impart? How in the world—”

“
Silence, impotent humorless boy! Not madness but a game!” cried the
taqavor
in a high womanish voice. He began again to giggle, and pointed to his guards and the doors of the sepulcher, saying, “Proceed.”

The Palace guards unbolted and unlocked the ornate doors of the domed structure, and then stood to block the dark entrance, from beyond which came wailing,. Many agonized female faces could be seen.

“
Ah!” said Cireive, “I almost forgot. If there is but one question that you do not answer to my satisfaction, you will have to take the place of these women inside.”

“
No!” said the Prince. “Please, my Lord Father!”

The
taqavor
glanced at him briefly. “Oh, don’t be afraid. I promise, you will join your blind queen inside. That is, unless you deny her now, and give up her worthless husk, and take another proper queen worthy of the Prince Heir. Do not think me daft, boy, that I have allowed you this nonsense of a marriage. I allowed it only to amuse myself at the spectacle of a blind beggar being made into a temporary queen.”

“
Enough! What is your first question?” said the queen without eyes. Her voice was strong and she was smiling.

And in response Cireive let out a peal of insane laughter and rubbed his hands gleefully. “At last, I’ll see how truly clever you are,” he said. “Tell me, why does the sun shine?”

“
The sun shines because it can,” replied the woman ruthlessly. “Now, let one of the prisoners out.”

“
Very well,” said the
taqavor,
nodding to the guards. They in turn moved aside, and one trembling woman was taken by the shoulders and pushed out past the row of soldiers.

“
Go quickly!” exclaimed Lirheas. “Go while you can!”

The
taqoui
took several tentative steps and then instead of running, came down on her knees, weeping in gratitude before the
taqavor
who ignored her.

“
What is the purpose of dreams? What are the things that I see?” said Cireive to the queen without eyes.

She did not hesitate for a moment. “Dreams are created by you to protect yourself from the harsh truth, my Lord. Unlike the merciless reality of wakefulness, in dreams you see only that which safely shields you.”

Cireive thought for a moment, then smiled. “Agreed,” he said, and pointed once more to the doors of the sepulcher. Another of the
taqoui
was shoved into the fading daylight, as though she were a sack of bones. She came out swaying in weakness, and like her predecessor lowered herself on her knees.

“
Ah, for goodness’ sake, begone quickly, woman,” said the queen without eyes in exasperation,
seeing
through the eyes of the Prince how the woman hesitated.

“
Now then,” continued Cireive, “tell me what is the number of directions from which the wind blows in my
empirastan?
”

“
Simple,” said the queen without eyes. “It equals the number of destinations where the wind arrives.”

“
What?”

“
That would be your next question—for this one, you owe me another prisoner.”

Cireive frowned, then opened his eyes wide, and nodded to the guards, and the third woman was released.

“
Well then, explain,” he muttered.

The queen smiled.

“
When you speak of the wind, you speak of movement. Air moves from one place to another. For every point of its origin there is an end point of destination. Draw a line from the origin to the destination, and it will represent the direction. But it is rather useless to discuss it unless you have a specific stationary point in mind, because the wind never sits still but changes direction constantly and thus changes its point of destination. Thus, what starts out as a simple straight line ends up as an infinitely meandering sequence of ever-changing points. . . .”

“
And what point is at the very middle of the world?” said the
taqavor
suddenly.

“
From your relative perspective, it is you, of course,” she replied. “But, in the absolute sense, every point on the surface of a sphere is the middle point.”

“
So then,” the
taqavor
mused aloud, obviously pleased, “if I move, the middle of the world moves with me?”

“
Of course,” she replied, smiling softly once again. “If you choose to look at it that way.

Cireive chuckled, and motioned for the guards to release another
taqoui
from the prison of the tomb.

He never gave the
taqoui
a single glance, but immediately asked another question.

“
I want to know the size of the world and thus the size of my
empirastan,
once and for all.”

At this the queen sighed. “It is a very great number,” she said carefully.

“
Naturally it is a great number, I know that! But what determines this number?” the
taqavor
persisted. “Tell me, woman!”

“
The gods determine it by designating for it a great place,” she replied.

“
How? And where is this great place that my
empirastan
is located? I would know!”

“
Your
empirastan
is located on the surface of a sphere,” replied the queen. “But that is the next question, so you need to release another one.”

Cireive nodded to the guards absently, and continued to muse outloud, while an agonized woman rushed forth, and bowed before him like the other released prisoners.

“
Tell me how is it that my
empirastan
covers a sphere? I would hear more of this impossibility,” the
taqavor
continued.

The queen paused. After a moment she said, “The
empirastan
does not cover the whole of the sphere. It is great indeed, possibly the greatest of all. But it is less than the whole world, my Lord. I cannot lie.”

In the growing twilight, Lirheas watched this insane game, and for the first time he knew that here was the end.

“
I do not like your answer,” muttered Cireive. “No, I do not. . . .”

“
I did not think you would,” replied the woman. “However, before you decide to be done with me, I offer you one more question and answer. Only this time, I raise the stakes, and offer a challenge. But first you must release all the rest of the women, and then you must enter the tomb alone with me.”

Hearing that, Cireive let out another giggle. “Oh, you think you are clever enough to deceive me?” he said, shaking with laughter. “You want to lure me inside and shut the door? Is that so?”

“
Of course,” said the queen without eyes. “But I will come with you into the darkness. Are you afraid of being alone with me, a pathetic blind beggar, oh great Lord of the greatest
empirastan?
”

“
Oh, no!” exclaimed the
taqavor,
no longer laughing. “I do not trust you for a moment, woman. I would never go inside with you alone. Oh, no, not ever. . . .”

And then he spoke to the guards, “I am tired of this game. Now take them both, this so-called queen, and my fool of a son, and put them inside. And take these women that I have just ‘released’ and put them back inside also. I had no intention of freeing them in the first place—”

“
A pity indeed,” said the queen without eyes. Moving preternaturally fast, she was at the side of the
taqavor,
and then she was at his back. She grasped him from behind and in the next instant, there was a long needle-sharp dagger of pale steel in her hand, and she was holding it at his throat while its razor-sharp edge was directly over his carotid artery.

Cireive went still in her hold.

The guards who had barely began to move, froze also, for it seemed she had moved outside of time itself, so fast she had been, so inhuman. They stood petrified, watching her. The
taqoui,
still on their knees, stared upwards in terrible wonder.