The Crystal Chalice (Book 1) (46 page)

 Naldian was the picture
of tolerant amusement. “Apparently your companion here does not appreciate the
honour conferred on him by an invitation to dine with the King.”

 Relisar looked so
disgruntled that they all laughed, but Celedorn, watching the old man closely,
thought that beneath it all he looked troubled.

 “There’s no time to
spruce him up,” Naldian said. “He will have to come as he is. Fortunately this
is not a formal dinner - just the King and the old Queen.”

 As they followed the
Captain along the endless, richly-embellished corridors, Celedorn fell into
step beside Relisar, allowing the others to draw a little ahead.

 “Something is troubling
you?” he asked.

 Relisar looked up,
startled. “How did you know?”

 “Instinct.”

 “As usual, your
intuition is correct. I have discovered something that troubles me greatly but
I cannot speak of it now, not in front of Captain Naldian. We will discuss it
later.”

 Naldian ushered the
guests into the long hall where they had first met the King. As the night was
warm and sultry, the tall windows stood open to the terrace. Golden
candlesticks shaped like coiled serpents, the candles resting on their hooded
heads, cast a warm glow along the length of the dining table. The King arose to
greet them, his hand held out to Andarion, a smile of pleasure on his face.
When he greeted Triana, his eyes rested on her with a strange, predatory look
that might have been hunger, before he lifted her hand to his lips. Triana
flushed uncomfortably and chose the seat at the table furthest away from him,
beside Celedorn.

 The only other person
present in the hall was the old Queen, who sat at the King’s right hand. Her
silver hair, flowing over her black velvet gown, was held by a diadem studded
with jet. Although there was a place set for dining in front of her, she
touched nothing. Each course was removed untasted. Instead, she listened to
their conversation, turning her sightless eyes towards each speaker in turn,
saying nothing. One other person at the table also said nothing. Celedorn, too,
watched all that went on but contributed not a syllable, content to keep his own
counsel.

 As the candles burnt
low in their holders and the evening drew to a close, Andarion addressed the
King. “Sire, your hospitality to us has been unmatched and on behalf of myself
and my companions, I would like to thank you for your kindness and generosity.
However, all good things come to an end and unfortunately my presence is
urgently required in Eskendria. It is with regret that I must inform you that
we intend to take our departure tomorrow. If ever the Turog are defeated and
times change, I extend an invitation to you to come to Eskendria as my guest.”

 Silence greeted his
speech. One of the candles, caught in the soft breeze from the window,
guttered, causing a bead of wax to run down the serpent’s back.

 “Is this how you repay
my hospitality?” the King asked coldly, his eyes as black as the night beyond
the windows. “When you have no further need of it, you cast it aside.”

 “No, not at all, Sire,”
Relisar replied placatingly. “If time were not so pressing, nothing would
delight us more than to linger, but the Prince has explained to you the threat
facing Eskendria and he must return as quickly as possible. We have stayed here
longer than we intended simply because you have been so kind.”

 The King’s lip curled.
“Eskendria? One petty little province of a once great kingdom, whose petty
little governors have stolen the title of  king. I attach very little
importance to it.”

 Andarion’s eyes flashed
with anger but he was no fool and held his temper in check, aware that the
speech had been intended to provoke. “As you wish. But Eskendria is important
to
me
and I must return.”

 A sinister expression
crossed the King’s features and his hooded eyes became blacker and more
reptilian.  “There is perhaps something that you do not yet know about the
Kingdom of Adamant,” he remarked silkily. “No one ever leaves it. The penalty
for those who attempt to do so is death. In all its one thousand years of
existence, no one has ever left and you will not be the first.” He looked
around all the silent faces. “I present you all with a choice. You may remain
here willingly as my guests, enjoying a life of privilege and ease, or you may
stay unwillingly, as my prisoners - a life not quite so comfortable. Disabuse
yourselves of any notion that you might have of deceiving me. No one can
deceive me, or have you forgotten my mother’s very singular gift? If one of you
even strays towards the curtain of adamant, you will all be executed, is that
clear?”

 When he received no
reply he continued: “You have until midnight tomorrow to let me know your
decision. Will it be a palace or a prison? The choice is yours.” His eyes came
to rest on Triana. “Except for you. A prison is not the proper setting for such
beauty. You will stay with me as long as it amuses me to keep you. For the
moment you may return to your quarters with your friends but at midnight
tomorrow you will move to ......ah......more fitting accommodation.”

 Triana said nothing but
her eyes dropped to the table before the King’s rapier look. She was trembling
with fear. Unobtrusively, Celedorn gripped her hand under the table and for
some reason she was comforted a little.

 When still no one
spoke, the King said: “You do not seem entirely surprised.”

  Andarion lifted his
chin imperiously. “A very wise woman recently told me not to trust that
everything is as it appears to be. I have not your mother’s power to read minds
but the revelation of your true nature comes not so much as a surprise to me as
a disappointment.” He arose to his feet, realising that expostulation would be
useless. Deliberately he did not bow to the King. “You will forgive me if your
hospitality begins to taste a little sour. We will return to our quarters now.
I bid you goodnight.”

 The others arose and
followed him from the room without a backward glance. When they had gone, the
old Queen laid a fragile hand on her son’s arm. “He has made you angry, my son,
but don’t be. He is not the real danger - it is the old man. He has discovered
our secret. I can see it in his mind. Without a doubt they will attempt to
flee, but only
he
has the power to open the curtain of adamant. He must
die, my son, they all must.”

 She sensed him open his
lips to speak and forestalled him. “Keep the golden-haired girl if you wish but
the others must not be allowed to live. I will be glad to see the dark one die,
for he broods on my mind like a black cloud.”

 “You still cannot read
him?”

 “No, I tried again
tonight, but his thoughts are closed, however, without the old Sage, even he is
helpless to leave this kingdom. Seize the old man and you render them
powerless.”

 In another part of the
palace a council of war was being held.

 The Prince was not
convinced he had handled the interview well. “I should not have so naively
declared our intention of leaving,” he said bitterly. “If we had led him to
believe that we were content to stay longer, then it would have been easier to
have slipped away unnoticed.”

 Elorin disagreed. “None
of us could have predicted such an extreme reaction. He always seemed reluctant
to see us go, but it never entered my mind that he would threaten us with
death.”

 They were in Triana’s
room. She had remained aloof from the discussion and was sitting on the bed
shivering. “I will not go to him,” she asserted vehemently. “I would rather die
with all of you in an escape attempt, than face such a fate. I
will
not.
I will take my own life.”

 The Prince crossed to
her and clasped her hand. “Don’t be afraid, Triana, the King thinks he has us
in a trap but we have several advantages he does not know about. Celedorn has
horses ready for us in the city and Relisar can open the curtain of adamant.
Don’t forget that we never explained to him how we got through it. He will
learn that he cannot hold us against our will.”

 But Relisar was not so
confident. “The old woman was again probing my mind tonight. She tried to creep
into it by stealth, like a thief, but I detected her presence. However, I do
not think I have quite Celedorn’s talent for denying her. I am not exactly sure
what she learned.”

 “We should assume that
she discovered your abilities with the curtain of adamant,” said Celedorn.

 “I tried my best to
deny my mind to her but I am not sure I succeeded. I was particularly anxious
that she should not read my thoughts in view of what I discovered today.”
Relisar paused and looked at all the expectant faces. “As usual, when I
repaired to the library this morning I began to discuss with the librarian - a
capital fellow, by the way - all the areas of knowledge I was interested in. I
told him that I was particularly keen to find out anything the library
contained about the three Orders. He led me to a side chamber where some
ancient scrolls were kept in an old cabinet. The room was very dusty because it
is hardly ever used any more - interest in the Orders being somewhat slight
here. He gave me a manuscript which suggested that a remnant of the Order of
the Flower had established a monastery in the woods to the south of here, but a
page seemed to be missing and rather than disturbing my friend, I looked in the
cabinet myself to see if I could find it - but I found something totally
unexpected instead. At the bottom of the cabinet, hidden behind many old books,
mouldy and rotten with age, obviously not read for centuries, I found a journal
- a diary.” He drew his breath shakily. “It was the journal of Tissro the
Wanderer and contained his personal account of his last journey. In it he
recounted how he had left the city of Korem and travelled northwards until he
came to the lands in the lordship of the House of Parth. There he was received
with honour and all at first seemed well, until quite by chance, he discovered
something that was to cost him his life. The house had made a pact with the
Destroyer that if they used their black arts to spiritually attack and weaken
the Brotherhood of the Sword, in order to pave the way for the Destroyer’s
invasion of the Old Kingdom, their house would be spared.”

 The Prince’s face was
pale with shock. “They betrayed us,” he whispered. “The House of Parth betrayed
their own kind to the Destroyer.”

 “Yes,” confirmed
Relisar sadly. “While the Brotherhood of the Sword was weakened and distracted,
fighting the demons conjured up by the traitors, the Destroyer attacked and the
Old Kingdom fell - all except Eskendria. Tissro found out about this dreadful
plot and intended to warn the High King, but even in those days the women of
Parth had the power to penetrate minds and he was discovered.”

 “Do you realise what
you are saying?” said Celedorn sharply.

 “I am saying that King
Morthren is of the House of Parth. I am saying that the Kingdom of Adamant
exists with the leave of the Destroyer. I am saying that the traitors survived
while all else fell.” He stood up agitatedly and began to pace the room. “I should
have seen it before. The winged serpent, symbol of the House of Parth, is
everywhere in this kingdom - even to the very candlesticks that were on the
table tonight. I should have realised it sooner. And yes, before you ask, the
old woman has inherited the power of her ancestors.” He steadied himself for a
moment before continuing. “Tissro’s journal broke off suddenly, in fact, in
mid-sentence. The last page was blotted with something that might have been
ink, or might have been blood. I sat long, staring at that journal, deeply
disturbed by what I had discovered, as the day around me grew old and the
shadows began to fall like ghosts. Finally I must have dozed off because Tissro
came to me in a dream. “
My blood was spilled by the
House of Parth,
”
he told me. “
Treachery and murder are tools that fit easily in their hands,
but they must not succeed again. Save my kin, Relisar. I lay it upon you, save
my kin.”

 “What did he mean?”
Triana asked.

 “I must save all of
you. You are his kin because you are of the light as he was. Somehow, I must
save you.”

 “Then we must leave
now,” said the Prince decisively. “We cannot delay another hour. We must get
down to the tavern where the horses are stabled and ride like the wind for the
border. Once there, Relisar will indeed save us by opening the curtain of
adamant.” He noticed the look on Celedorn’s face. “You do not agree?”

 “What troubles me is
that we do not appear to be watched or restrained in any way. I would at the
very least have expected a guard to be placed on our rooms, but there is no
sign of one. I do not find this reassuring, for it suggests that the King has
some other method in mind to prevent us leaving. He is not a fool and must be
expecting us to attempt to escape. So why are we being left alone like this?”

 “Are you suggesting
that we sit around waiting to find out what he has in mind?” asked Andarion
with some asperity.

 “No. An attempt must be
made and by reacting so quickly, we might just catch him off balance. We should
pack up our belongings and meet back here in a few minutes.”

 They all nodded
agreement and departed to their respective rooms. When they assembled a short
time later in Triana’s room, Relisar, as usual, was missing.