The Destiny of the Dead (The Song of the Tears Book 3) (43 page)

‘This should be the place,’ said Flydd as they approached a
large house of several storeys built of grey stone, surrounded by a high wall
with spikes along the top.

He scanned the street before approaching the high iron
gates. A uniformed guard shone a lantern on his face, and Nish’s. He nodded,
swung the gate open, locked it behind them, and held the reins of the horse.

Flydd sprang down. Nish tried to follow and fell off, for
one leg had gone numb from sitting on the horn of the saddle. Flydd helped him
up. Another guard led the horse away and Flydd set off down a paved path with
flower beds on either side. Nish stumbled after him, aching in bone and sinew,
and his entire backside feeling bruised.

‘We’ve come to see Yulla Zaeff,’ said Flydd quietly.

‘Zaeff?’ said Nish. ‘I know the name, though I can’t
remember where I’ve heard it before.’

‘At the end of the war she was the governor of Crandor, the
wealthiest nation on Santhenar.’ Flydd lowered his voice. ‘She’s a greedy,
conniving woman who made herself rich beyond your dreams –’

‘You’d be surprised at how modest my dreams are these days.’

‘Unfortunately!’ Flydd said pointedly. ‘Yulla was once so
wealthy and influential that even Jal-Nish, when he became God-Emperor, did not
care to bring her down, though he dismissed her as governor and installed his
own puppet. I knew her well, once, and she was a great help to us in the lyrinx
war –’

‘I remember now,’ said Nish. ‘You gave her the first spare
thapter, even though you knew she would use it to enrich herself immeasurably.’

‘Yulla was worth it. Despite the qualities I’ve mentioned,
she was the best of governors. She loved her country, defended it stoutly, and
made sure that even the meanest of her citizens shared in its wealth. And she
kept her promises.’

‘You sound as though you admire her.’

‘I disliked her thoroughly, and she me, yet we worked well together
when we had to.’

‘But surely she no longer has to, so why would she help us?’

‘Because your father has long since stripped her of the
monopolies that made her rich, and taxed most of her wealth away, and she wants
it back. Besides, Yulla is a patriot. She can’t bear to see her beloved Crandor
suffering under the tyrant’s yoke, and its wealth stolen to prop up the
God-Emperor’s corrupt and brutal realm. I think she’ll help us, for a price.
Indeed, she’s the best person in Roros to do so. Yulla is no longer powerful,
but she has the ear of almost every important person in this land, and they
will listen. Hush now.’

The front door opened silently the moment they reached it,
and Nish felt his heart miss a beat, for the woman who stood in the hall was so
striking that she took his breath away.

She was his height, and slender, yet nicely curved in all
the right places, with skin the colour of melted chocolate and a perfect oval
face. Her hair was woven into a single braid, and her smile lifted the corners
of her mouth enchantingly. The people of Crandor often filed their teeth to
points, which Nish loathed, but her teeth were small, white and perfectly even.

She held out her hand to Flydd, and her voice was low and
melodious.

‘You are Xervish Flydd? I studied the artists’ images of
you, which were done before your renewal of course, but even now there is a
likeness about your eyes …’ As Flydd gripped her hand she studied him, head to
one side. ‘Yes, I’m sure you are Xervish Flydd. My name is Persia bel Soon.’
She pronounced it Purr-see-arr. ‘I presently serve Yulla Zaeff in several
capacities, but more of that later.’

He seemed a little reluctant to release her hand, and Nish
could understand why.

She was turning to Nish when Flydd said, ‘Bel Soon? That is
a name from the Histories, and also mentioned in a Great Tale, is it not?’

‘Indeed,’ said Persia, still smiling, though not so
welcomingly.

‘So many Histories, so many names,’ said Flydd. ‘And my
memories haven’t all come back, but … was it the twenty-third – the
Tale of the Mirror
?’

‘The tale that you scrutators had banned, denounced as a
lie, and rewritten?’ she said in a chilly voice.

‘
I
did not
denounce it,’ said Flydd, slightly taken aback.

‘Our family name is mentioned in that tale, which,’ said Persia,
‘according to our Histories, was written by my grandmother of many generations
back. Her name was Tallia bel Soon. And every word of the Great Tale was true.’

‘Tallia, of course. She served the great mancer, Mendark,
for a time, and most honourably I understand, until her indenture was
completed.’

‘As with her, so with me,’ said Persia. ‘But I am
discourteous.’ She turned back to Nish. ‘You are Cryl-Nish Hlar, known as Nish.
There is no difficulty recognising you from your portraits, despite the bruises.
I have a salve that will ease them, if they are troubling you.’

‘Very much so,’ said Nish, imagining her applying salve in
all kinds of places. He pushed the distracting thoughts away.

She extended her hand, which was cool and strong. He winced
as she squeezed his bruised fingers and she let go at once.

‘Would you come this way.’

She led them down a broad hall with family portraits to
either side, all of broad-faced, unattractive people. Her gown was clinging and
Nish found his eyes irresistibly drawn to her prominent, swaying bottom. He
swallowed and looked aside, telling himself that he was here on a mission of
vital importance and could not afford to be distracted, but distracted he
remained.

After climbing several stairs, Persia opened a door, stepped
through into a large though dimly lit room with curtained windows on three
sides, and announced, ‘The renewed ex-scrutator, Xervish Flydd, and the son of
the God-Emperor, Cryl-Nish Hlar, to see you, Lady Yulla.’

The windowless inner wall contained shelves extending from
floor to ceiling, each divided into many small compartments which appeared to
contain rocks and minerals. There was a small table and a high-backed chair by
the right-hand window, another long, low table further down, with soft chairs
around it, and a high-backed wing chair down the far end.

The chair by the right-hand window creaked and a large,
fleshy woman rose and turned to face them. She had triple chins, small grey
eyes set in flesh bloated from over-indulgence, and her sagging skin had an
oily sheen. In her left hand she held a piece of rock crystal, which she was
examining through a large hand lens. She looked up, her gaze passed over them
indifferently, then she turned away and resumed her study of the crystal.

How rude, Nish thought, disliking her on sight. She cares
more about that stupid crystal than she does about us.

‘Would you take your places here,’ said Persia, leading them
to the soft armchairs around the low table.

Nish sank into the cushions of his chair with a grateful
sigh and Flydd sat beside him.

‘Have you dined?’ she said.

Nish was about to say, ‘Not since lunchtime,’ when Flydd
said, ‘Yes, thank you.’

Persia’s lovely eyes searched his face. ‘Lady Yulla will be
with you directly.’ She went out and closed the door.

Nish looked around. On the far side of the room a man with
unkempt grey hair and a bald patch was slumped in the wing chair as if asleep.
He was facing away from them and Nish could not see his features, though a lamp
on a stand behind him shone on a large piece of paper on his lap.

A bookcase held a number of ledgers, plus a matching series
of thick volumes with gold leaf on the spines. They might have been a complete
set of the Great Tales, or Yulla’s own family Histories. Shelves held vases,
pieces of statuary and other small items of exquisite artistry.

Suddenly aware that Yulla was sitting in the large chair
across the table from him, Nish swung around. For a big woman she moved
quickly, and silently.

Nish rose to his feet, and extended his hand. ‘Good evening,
Lady Yulla, I’m Nish.’

Her eyes met his but she did not extend her hand and he sat
down, discomfited. Persia returned bearing a tray, a decanter, and glasses. She
took a chair halfway across the room and sat side-on to them, looking towards
the old man in the corner, though Nish could tell that she was aware of
everything they did, and ready to defend her mistress in an instant should the
need arise.

Yulla still held the hand lens; the piece of rock crystal
stood on the table in front of her. It was a beautiful specimen, an array of
dozens of crystals all intergrown, all perfect, and Nish briefly wondered if
she were a geomancer.

Geomancy had been one of the most powerful of the Secret
Arts, in the olden days, but the destruction of the nodes had taken a greater
toll of it than any of the other Arts, and to the best of his knowledge
geomancy no longer existed.

‘Flydd,’ she said. Her voice had a hoarse, rasping quality,
as if she had eaten too much, drunk too much, and smoked more herbs than she
should have. ‘Renewal has done you no favours – I preferred you the way
you were last time we met.’

‘A gaunt old man who looked as though the spare flesh had
been gouged off his much-broken bones.’

‘He was a better man than you are. But I am wasting time.
What do you want?’

The implication was that they were wasting her time.

‘You will have heard our news already, I think.’

‘Of the abduction of our
beloved
God-Emperor by a
being
called
Stilkeen; the defeat of Jal-Nish’s army in the mountains by a meagre force of
farmers and hunters led by Nish; and an insolent attack on the seneschal’s
mansion in Taranta by a band of renegades using the God-Emperor’s personal
air-sled? The tales came to me by skeet two days ago, but are they true?’

Yulla’s small eyes were fixed intently on him and Nish
suddenly saw the clever, determined woman within the saggy folds of flesh. She
smiled thinly; her teeth were filed to points in the old Crandorian way, which,
he recalled, had rather gone out of fashion since the war ended.

‘I can’t answer for the details of what you were told,’ said
Flydd, ‘though your précis is correct in every particular. Is there any news of
General Klarm?’

‘No. I heard that he walked into the rock of the mountain
and disappeared.’

‘Nish and I both saw it. He used the Profane Tears to enter
the shadow realm, the place where spirits dwell,
and hunt
. I am one of the few people who know what that place is
like, and if I were forced to go there I would not rate my chances of survival
highly.’

Unease shivered her plump cheeks and triple chins. ‘Yet
Klarm is a man of the utmost resourcefulness – and he has the tears.’

‘He does –’

‘Though I felt he was afraid to use them,’ said Nish.

Flydd gave him a blank stare, but Nish sensed that he was
annoyed; had he not wanted that piece of information revealed?

‘That
is
interesting,’ said Yulla. ‘Go on.’

Nish glanced at Flydd, who looked away. Now Nish had to
continue and he sensed that, having been such a powerful governor, Yulla would
read any evasion or omission instantly. ‘Klarm doesn’t want power badly
enough.’

‘He did not get where he is today, with all his physical
handicaps, without a deep yearning for power and what it brings and buys,’ she
said frostily, as though Nish’s assumption was offensive to her.

Nish refused to be cowed. He too had taken on the mighty in
his time, and beaten some of them.

‘But he doesn’t want to become God-Emperor. Klarm is a
magnificent deputy, but he lacks the vital, selfish drive to risk everything
for his own ambition. That’s why he holds back with the tears – he
doesn’t want what they offer badly enough to risk destruction. That’s how I
read him, anyhow.’

‘If you’re right, it indicates a weakness that can be used
against him when he returns; assuming he does.’

Yulla heaved her bulk to her feet and twitched the curtains
together more tightly – from behind she had the shape of a rectangle
distorted by the effects of gravity – then turned back to Flydd. ‘What do
you want from me, and what can you do for me?’

‘I want to use this opportunity to take Nish to the throne.’

‘Not as God-Emperor!’ said Nish.

Again Flydd favoured him with that blank look, but Nish felt
he was saying,
Keep your bloody mouth
shut and let me do the talking
. Nish wasn’t going to have that; he wasn’t
going to be Flydd’s puppet as he had once been Vivimord’s.

‘You don’t want absolute power either?’ said Yulla in
astonishment. ‘Or wealth beyond any man’s dreams? Or the most beautiful women
in the world for your bed?’

Nish thought of Persia walking ahead of him down the hall,
and swallowed.

‘I am not immune to such desires, but at the end of the war
I swore an oath to tear down the tyrant and restore peace and justice to
Santhenar, and the common wealth to all.’ He met her eyes. ‘Would you do
business with a man who did not keep his word?’

‘If our word cannot be relied upon,’ she said sententiously,
‘nothing can.’

‘We’ve got to strike fast,’ said Flydd, smiling now.
‘Jal-Nish’s seneschals are watching for us, and as soon as Nish starts giving
his public addresses, and appealing for volunteers to join his army, the enemy
will strike with a force we cannot match. Not even the God-Emperor’s only son
is safe if he threatens the throne.’

Nish wondered why Flydd was talking about that plan when he
had already derided it in private.

‘And you want something from me?’ said Yulla.

‘A small measure of coin, protection for ourselves and the
militia we brought with us, plus the contacts to recruit a small army, swiftly
and secretly.’

How could they recruit an army secretly? It was, by
definition, impossible. And so is overthrowing the empire, he thought gloomily.
Father has thought of everything.