Sword of Caledor (12 page)

‘It was the sword. There is a spell woven into it. At the blade’s heart, Caledor trapped one of the elemental spirits of the volcano. It burns in there, its life force powering the blade. You can unleash part of it by contacting the spirit.’

‘Useful. Having a sword that lets you breathe fire like a dragon, I mean. Nice to know the trick is still possible. I had always thought the ancient tales exaggerated.’

‘You would not want to do it too often. You might over-draw the life force of the elemental and unravel all the magic in the sword. If you use it, you need to give the sword time to regain its health. Using its magic in that way is like an elf losing a lot of blood. It takes time to recover.’

‘You think I could learn to use it then.’ Teclis knew his brother had noted away what he was saying but as always seemed concerned only with his own purposes. They were very alike in that way.

‘Undoubtedly. It was intended for use by a warrior, not a wizard.’

‘Excellent.’ Tyrion sounded genuinely pleased. ‘How do I do it?’

‘I will endeavour to find out if you will allow me to concentrate.’

‘Just don’t concentrate too hard. I don’t want you stumbling on some new way to accidentally kill me.’

Teclis nodded. It was not a mistake he was going to make again. ‘If I do find a way to kill you, it won’t be accidental,’ he said. It came out more ominously than he meant it to. Tyrion just grinned his idiot grin, as if certain that nothing in this world could really harm him. Teclis sincerely hoped that really was the case.

He was embarrassed and angry at himself and displacing it onto his twin, which was not fair. ‘I did not mean that,’ he said.

‘I know,’ said Tyrion. ‘Just find a way to let me use the sword. I will leave you to it. Try not to set fire to the ship. It’s a long swim to Ulthuan.’

‘I can’t swim,’ said Teclis.

‘All the more reason for being careful then,’ said Tyrion as he left the cabin.

Urian stared into the mirror and waited for contact to come. How many times had he stood here over the past few centuries, he wondered? How many times had he made the strange pilgrimage through the underground labyrinth beneath the Silvermount Palace to find this place? How many more times would he have to do so?

The answers did not come. At the moment, his master did not seem to want to put in an appearance either. Urian made himself look devoted and alert. He was never sure exactly how the magical mirror worked, whether Malekith could see him even when he could not see the Witch King. Knowing the way his master’s mind worked it seemed entirely possible.

Suddenly the colours in the mirror swirled, Urian’s sardonically smiling reflection vanished to be replaced by the monstrous armoured figure of his master. He lounged like a massive, animated statue on his gigantic metal throne.

Standing beyond and behind Malekith, held on chains like a hound on a leash, was the second most astonishingly beautiful elf woman Urian had ever seen. Only Morathi was more lovely and she was not there to be compared, so it was possible this one’s beauty exceeded even hers. She looked much younger and much more innocent than Morathi, but that meant nothing. Urian was well aware of how deceptive appearances could be.

There was something about the chains on this one’s limbs that worried him, a magic that dazzled the eye and tired the brain. He let his eyes linger on her, wondering who she was. From behind Malekith’s back, she winked at him. So she could see him and was aware of who he was. That might prove to be a bad thing in the long run.

‘You are to be congratulated, Urian.’ Malekith’s voice emerged from the mirror with perfect cold clarity. The Witch King sounded as pleased as Urian had ever heard him. ‘The Everqueen is dead. Your reward will be extraordinary.’

‘Serving you is reward enough, my liege.’ Urian was proud that he managed to keep any trace of irony from his voice. There were times when he could get away with that in front of his master but instinct told him that now was not such a time.

‘Please, Urian, let us not even pretend that is so,’ said Malekith. ‘I am your liege, and it is my duty and my pleasure to reward my favoured vassals.’

‘In that case, I await your magnanimity with breathless anticipation, my lord.’

‘You shall not have to wait too long. Within this year I will have vast new estates to disburse to my most loyal subjects.’

Despite the fact he had long awaited this moment, excitement stabbed at Urian’s vitals. So it was finally going to happen then – the long awaited invasion of Ulthuan for which secret preparations had been going on for centuries. ‘I am thrilled to hear it, my liege.’

‘It pleases me that you managed to carry out your last task without being discovered. It means you will be in place to exceed yourself when our forces come to Lothern.’

‘You have given the orders for the re-conquest of Ulthuan, sire?’

There was an eerie, evil joy in Malekith’s voice that Urian had never heard before. ‘I have. Hold yourself in readiness for further instructions. Within a moon, the world will be changed forever for the better. Perform your duties well and I will give you Lothern for your fief.’

It was astonishing generosity on Malekith’s part. He would be satrap of the richest and most glamorous city in the world. The opportunities to become wealthy would be limitless and he was already intimately acquainted with the citizens. They would hate him of course, as a traitor and a turncoat, even more than they hated the Witch King. He wondered how long Malekith had planned this for. From the beginning was Urian’s guess.

‘What do you have to say, Urian?’ It was clear that an answer was required.

‘My apologies, liege. I was simply overwhelmed by your generosity. It rendered me speechless.’

‘Then I have been generous indeed to achieve such a miracle,’ said Malekith laughing. His good humour was even more terrifying than his wrath.

Chapter Ten

Tyrion strode into Lady Emeraldsea’s audience chamber. It was his grandfather’s old office and little had changed since that ancient elf had occupied it.

Malene looked up from the account book she had been reading as he entered, her amber eyes hidden behind copper-framed bi-focals. She was as beautiful and severe-looking as ever but there was something different about her, something that made her seem older, even if she did not look it. She had been that way since her father died and she had taken over the running of the House. The responsibilities pressed down heavily on her.

‘You wanted to see me as soon as possible and here I am, aunt,’ Tyrion said. ‘I have come straight from the ship. My brother has gone to our old house since you stated you wished to see me alone.’

Malene looked a little hurt. She had always preferred Teclis to him. ‘Prince Tyrion, how good of you to join me. We have been wondering where you were.’

‘We were in Lustria, aunt,’ said Tyrion. ‘As well you know.’

‘And I trust you found whatever was so important as to take you there at this critical period in history.’

‘Yes, my lady, we did. We found Sunfang, the sword of Aenarion, believed lost centuries ago.’

‘Where is it?’

‘Teclis has it. He wished to inspect it, to divine its mysteries. You know what he is like when it comes to new magic.’

‘It has been a long time since anyone saw that blade,’ said Malene. ‘May it bring you more luck than it brought its previous bearers.’

‘I was grieved to hear of the death of the Everqueen,’ said Tyrion, wanting to get down to the true business of the evening.

‘As were we all, Tyrion,’ said Malene. ‘We are all deeply grieved by the loss. However, life must go on. A new Everqueen has been crowned and her new champion must be chosen.’

‘And you believe me to be a suitable candidate for that position,’ said Tyrion.

‘There is no one in our House better qualified. It is a great honour to be the champion of our new queen. Do you consider yourself worthy of it?’

Tyrion did not like Malene’s tone. ‘I should think that there is no honour in Ulthuan that a descendant of Aenarion is unworthy of.’

‘It is good that you take such pride in your lineage. However, these are new times, and being of ancient blood is no longer sufficient qualification for any position in our realm. Merit counts for something as well.’

‘I believe my deeds speak for themselves,’ said Tyrion.

‘I’m glad that you feel that way – you will soon have a chance to prove those words.’ He felt inclined to rise to the challenge just so he could prove her wrong, but he fought down that urge. If he was going to do something, he was going to do it because he wanted to, not because someone had played on his emotions.

‘I take it then that you wish me to enter the lists,’ said Tyrion.

‘You take it correctly,’ said Malene. ‘I don’t think it would do you any harm to be settled down in a position of responsibility. You have developed a reputation for being something of a rake and a brawler recently and it reflects badly on both yourself and this House. And there is no greater responsibility in all of the realms than the safety of our queen.’

Tyrion was not pleased by her comment about his being a rake. It stung a little, not least because there was some truth to the accusation. He knew his relationship with the Lady Valeria had put one of his family’s oldest and most precious alliances in peril. Of course, he was not the only party who had caused that particular crisis.

‘But there is more to the position than merely being her bodyguard, isn’t there?’ Tyrion said.

His aunt gave him a wintry smile. ‘I don’t think you will find some of those duties particularly onerous. Many would consider them a pleasure, in fact. They say the new queen is very beautiful. But then they always do.’

‘But that is not why you want me to seek this position, is it?’

‘Of course not, Tyrion. If you become champion, you will spend a lot of time in the company of the Everqueen and your opinion will become of considerable importance to her. The new Everqueen is very young and very impressionable and you are a very impressive elf.’

‘And I should make sure that her opinion of House Emeraldsea is a good one.’

‘As ever, your understanding of the situation is swift and accurate. But there are other good reasons for wanting you to take this position.’

‘And what would those be?’

To his surprise, Malene lowered her voice. A worried look flickered across her face. ‘Something bad is happening, Tyrion. I can feel it. I don’t know what it is yet but I want us to be ready when it comes.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We insure a lot of ships. The number of ships lost on the northern routes is so low that we have made more money than at any other point in my lifetime even after reducing the premiums.’

‘And you think this is a bad omen?’

‘It is unnatural, Tyrion. We normally count on losing some ships to druchii piracy. We have lost nothing for years. Nothing at all.’

‘They say the druchii are dying out.’

‘I do not believe it. I think the Witch King is merely quiescent.’

‘I hope you are wrong.’

‘So do I but I am not. Something has changed in the world, something about the winds of magic. They blow stronger than they have during my lifetime and they are strangely tainted. I am not the only mage who has noticed this. Others are as troubled as I am.’

‘This is more my brother’s field than mine.’

‘I fear it will disturb all our lives before long. I fear we must be prepared for the world taking a darker turn. That is why I want you with the Everqueen. She is young and she has much to learn and she may not have much time to get ready.’

‘Ready for what?’

‘I don’t know but whatever it is, it will be bad. We have lived too long, too peacefully. We have grown lax. The cults of luxury are growing strong again. More of our young people than ever are joining them.’

Tyrion wondered whether Malene, all appearances to the contrary, was starting to succumb to the weaknesses of old age. Perhaps soon she would be explaining to him how much better things had been in her youth. He pushed these thoughts to one side. He knew his aunt better than that. There were other things he wanted to talk about.

‘My grandfather always claimed, in private and to me at least, that he had ambitions for me,’ Tyrion said.

‘I know he did.’

‘One day he wanted me to be seated on the Phoenix Throne.’

‘That is not in the least surprising.’

‘How do you feel about that?’

‘I would be proud and happy if it happened.’

‘I do not see how it can if I am to be a servant of the Everqueen.’

‘So that is what is troubling you – I was wondering.’

‘You must admit it would be difficult for me to go from being the champion of the Everqueen to the throne itself.’

‘Difficult, yes. Impossible, no. Contrary to what you appear to think, Tyrion, you would not be her slave. Nor would your service to her be eternal.’

‘Most champions serve until they or their queen dies.’

‘Most do, it is true, but not all. You can resign the position.’

‘That is not very honourable.’

‘True but if you had duties to your family that required you to be present or if you were summoned to be a candidate for the throne…’

‘I don’t think it would be good for my reputation.’

‘And you must always keep that in mind, mustn’t you?’

‘You know I must. If your father’s dream is to be fulfilled.’

Malene laughed. ‘And yours, of course.’

Tyrion tried to voice his frustration. ‘I do not even know if I truly want to be Phoenix King but I would like to have the option open to me, if I decide in favour.’ Tyrion wondered if he should mention the prophecy that had been made about him by the Priests at the Shrine of Asuryan when he had been tested long ago. He decided not to. He had never mentioned it to anyone but his brother.

‘I understand, Tyrion. But Finubar is young and may reign for a thousand years. In the meantime, you can best serve your House by doing what I ask.’

‘What if I don’t want to?’

‘All of us have to do things we don’t want to, Tyrion. I would rather be studying the Art, or aiding Teclis with his inspection of the sword of Aenarion right now, but my father is dead, and someone must look after our interests. In a few centuries you will be better qualified to do that than I.’

‘I am not sure I want that position either.’

‘You may not have much choice if I am not here. Who else will look out for your brother’s interests or your father’s? Prince Arathion had burned through all of the money you left for him, buying materials to repair the dragon armour of Aenarion, performing more research into its history. So far I have covered his notes of hand, but I cannot keep doing so forever.’

And there was the stick, Tyrion thought. Someone was always going to have to look out for his father. Tyrion had left him enough money to keep a noble house in luxury for decades and already it was gone. He supposed he could have words with his father, but he knew how useless that was. His father would simply forget them as soon as Tyrion was out of sight.

‘And what is my reward to be, if I am successful?’

‘I should have thought that becoming the champion of the Everqueen was reward enough. But, in case that is not enough for you, my young horse trader, be assured that you will have our gratitude.’

Tyrion knew exactly what Malene meant. He was sure that the House would show its gratitude whenever he did something to its advantage. He was also beginning to become aware that the position was one that came with a measure of power attached to it. It was not the sort of power that he cared for or that he wanted to have, but he could see that it might be useful to him in the future. More to the point, it was a source of power completely independent of Malene and his kindred. It would be his and his alone.

‘When do I leave?’

His aunt nodded, gratified.

‘A ship is being prepared to take you to Avelorn. Anything that you require shall be provided for you. Clothing, gifts, horses – name it and you shall have it. We want you to make a good impression, after all.’

‘I shall do my best, since it is so important.’

‘And Tyrion…’

‘Yes?’

‘It might be best if you did not see Lady Valeria before you went.’

Tyrion grimaced. Something else was on his mind. ‘How much would it take to cover my father’s debts?’

Malene named the sum. ‘Transfer it from my account to his. And add a further thousand in gold.’

‘But Tyrion, that is almost all you have.’

‘It is only money,’ said Tyrion. ‘I can always get more.’

She looked at him, and saw at once the point he was making. His aunt was a clever woman. He was letting her know he could only be pushed so far even by threats to his father.

‘Not all elves are so lucky,’ she said.

Carrying Sunfang, Teclis entered the family home. Tyrion had already gone to the Emeraldsea mansion to talk with its mistress. Teclis was hurt that Malene had summoned Tyrion and not him.

He had always felt that she preferred him to Tyrion but since she had become the head of the House she had spent more time with his brother than with him. Of course, Tyrion showed a great deal more interest in the business of the House and spent a lot more time in Lothern than he did.

‘Greetings, Prince Teclis,’ said Rose. She curtseyed respectfully, as any retainer to a noble elven household was expected to. She was a human, an indentured servant, a slave by any other name. It was all the fashion in Lothern these days although still illegal in the rest of Ulthuan. She was pretty too… for a human. She looked at him in a way that no elf maid ever had. ‘It is good to have you home.’

‘It is good to be home,’ Teclis lied. He was not glad to be back in Lothern, even after a week at sea. He was certainly not glad to be back in this place.

The walls of the old family house hemmed Teclis in. Childhood memories of sickness and pain came surging back. He had never liked this place and yet it was part of the fabric of his being. With the wealth Tyrion had acquired raiding and trading, they could afford to re-open it. They could afford to have retainers and indentured servants. Their father had moved in and shipped all of his research material back from the wild mountains of Cothique.

‘Can I get you anything?’ Rose asked.

‘See that a fire is lit in my bedchamber and please notify Prince Arathion that I am home.’

‘Your father is out, visiting Korhien Ironglaive I believe, sir.’

‘Thank you. Perhaps you could have a light supper prepared and sent to the first floor living room.’

‘At once, sir.’ Teclis made his way into a richly appointed waiting room, laid Sunfang down on the table, poured some mildly narcotic wine into a golden goblet and stretched out in a comfortable leather-bound chair beside the fire.

It was all very different from the grinding poverty he remembered from early childhood. Here in Lothern he found all sorts of thoughts and resentments came crowding in.