The Nemesis Blade (5 page)

The villa lay
ahead, set atop a rise. There was no garden other than what nature
gifted the region between mountains and lake. Spruce, elder, oak
and fir forests surrounded the house, with the deciduous trees
leafless now in winter, and lichens and mosses adorned the rocks
along the way. A patchy lawn gave evidence to what summer green
would be and was the only addition to nature set before the wide
expanse of the villa. The house was beautiful, a combination of
wood and stone, more windows than walls and at least ten chimneys
protruded from the steep roof. It was also massive, far larger than
the Keep on Valaris, and the view was breathtaking.

“Fantastic,”
Teroux said as they levelled off before the house, turning round
and around.

“I have my
vanities,” Torrullin smiled, pleased.

“Did you build
it?” Tianoman asked. “It’s wonderful.”

“I built it
with Lowen. She spent perhaps a full month in it, if you add
together small increments.”

Tristan paced
towards the lake. “The view is incredible. Is that huge lake in the
distance the one that holds First Sanctuary?”

“Yes. Mariner
Island is First Sanctuary. You cannot see it from here, but there
are bridges from the island to the mainland to Second
Sanctuary.”

“Valleur
built, we hear.”

“Indeed. The
Valleur put in effort here,” Torrullin said.

Tristan
nodded. “That would aid the rumours,” he said to Teroux.

“Absolutely,”
Teroux muttered.

“Sanctuary
herself could be a target,” Tianoman added.

Tristan
sighed. “Why we couldn’t wait for your Coming-of-Age.”

“I see now,”
Tianoman nodded.

Torrullin’s
mouth tightened. “Let us eat, boys, then we talk.” He grinned a
moment later. “Boys? You aren’t boys anymore, and you, Tristan, are
now a year older than I am physiologically. How … strange.”

“Rather,”
Tristan muttered as they followed him indoors.

Torrullin
cooked a light meal to much banter, and they ate from their laps
before the fireplace in one of the sitting rooms.

The day grew
colder and gloomier. Wind howled around the corners of the
villa.

“Are you
coming to me with fact or rumour?” Torrullin prompted
eventually.

“Rumour,”
Teroux said.

“Then I don’t
need to hear where you got it from. Just give me the tale.”

Teroux and
Tianoman both looked at Tristan, a gesture not lost on
Torrullin.

“Well, it
concerns Sanctuary. People say you are preparing an army here.”

Torrullin
lifted his brows. “Let them sniff around, then, and go away
appeased.”

“Yes, but they
say you are using the Kaval and this mythical army to make the
universe yours.”

“A far-fetched
notion, don’t you think?”

“You want to
make the Valleur as before, rulers over all, and in particular
there is to be three kingdoms,” Tristan added.

“Ah. One for
each of you?”

Teroux
nodded.

“Untrue.”

“Rumour may be
believed,” Tianoman murmured.

Torrullin
poured three glasses of wine, handed them over and then poured
himself one thoughtfully. “And if rumour is to be believed, you
think someone may conceive of another force, a foil for mine. I see
your reasoning, but it would …”

He stilled.
Then his glass smashed upon the stone floor.

“Why the rock,
layers of texture and colour, like time built on time, if not to
point the way … but backwards. Backwards, by god.”

The three
Valla cousins stared at him.

He ignored
them. “An ancient threat or one long foretold … and she found it.
Go back to the source. Sanctuary is built on ancient foundations,
on singing stones.” He rose and paced away. “An army to meet an
army, the stones foretold.” He stared at the three without seeing
them. “Three kingdoms inundated on this world. Who would know that?
Lowen, after unravelling the mystery, and one who sees as she does
… or is an Ancient.”

He sat and
stared intently at Tristan.

“Tell me
everything you know, even who you heard it from.”

The man knelt
before the altar, looking at the stones his knees rested on. I ask
you, friend, how can anyone know what is in this man’s mind?
Penitence? Or is his a liar’s action?

~ Arc, poet

The Dome

T
he Dragon ogive chimed.

The Kaval
straightened. Elixir had been long absent from the Dome.

He strode in.
“Belun!”

“Yes, my
Lord?”

“Seal the
ogives immediately.”

“Gods,” the
Centuar muttered to himself and did as bid. He moved away from the
dais as Torrullin headed to it.

“Is everyone
here?” Elixir demanded, and passed his hands over the blinking
lights of the dais. It sought recognition from Elixir as others
once sought recognition from it.

“All currently
present,” Fuma, the Deorc Immortal, murmured.

“Why is that?”
Torrullin frowned at Jonas, in charge of assignments.

“We have an
interlude in effect, m-my Lord,” Jonas stammered in reply.

“Ah, and I do
not believe in coincidence .Very well, take seats. I have new
assignments for each of you.”

Seats were
found at the semi-circular conference slab.

“I have
unsettling news. Lowen has vanished without a trace, but before she
did she managed to send a clue as to her whereabouts. This is not
personal, Kaval, understand that.” He stared at them and then,
satisfied, continued. “Further to her disappearance, unpalatable
rumours have come to my attention. I believe the two are
linked.”

He gave an
account of the rumours and briefly related what he knew of
Lowen.

His Kaval did
not see a connection.

A mirthless
smile followed. “They are linked, trust me. This is what I need you
to do, and we shall confer again in one week. Jonas, hit the
computers and whomever you deem worthy of information for facts on
rock strata. Geologically. How much time does it involve to lay
down sediment, and how does it happen? Fuma, you and Amunti are to
backtrack the rumour. We need the source or take us as far back as
you can. Declan, you have to find Agnimus …”

“Excuse me?
You think that creature has something to do with this?” the Siric
asked.

“He is an
Ancient. I want to hear what he knows.”

“It will not
be easy,” Declan warned.

“Do what you
must. You have one week. Quilla, you are charged with singing
stones.”

A light went
off in the Q’lin’la’s mind. “Ah, I begin to discern the
connection.”

“Good,”
Torrullin responded. “Ignatius, we need the full history of
Sanctuary. Prima, uncover unfulfilled prophecies regarding the
meeting of two like armies.”

Prima paled.
“My Lord, there are thousands of those.”

“Select those
referring to three kingdoms and stones. Shenendo, I need anything,
anything
, you can find on the Luvans of Grinwallin. Galarth,
information on worlds inundated in ancient times. Erin, religious
theory on time-shifts - not portals between realities, but time
travel. Chaim, sniff around for resistance cells. We are trying to
ferret out the possibility of an army building in secret and it may
at this time be limited to small units, and may also be
widespread.”

“It will be
done,” the old man murmured.

Torrullin drew
breath and looked at Belun, Dome leader. “Belun, take the Dome to
Sanctuary and float her on Lake Averis.”

“
What
?”
Belun hurtled to his feet and he was not alone in his utter
astonishment.

“Bait, my
friend,” Torrullin said.

“Gods,
Torrullin, the Dome has never been through atmosphere!”

“It has never
been in the region of a planet,” Declan added. “It may not
withstand the rigours.”

“It will
withstand,” Torrullin responded. “Set the parameters to make it so,
with necessary protection. Belun, you know this magical device
inside-out; I trust you can do this.”

“Why, for
pity’s sake?”

Torrullin bent
over the dais and sighed. “A hazy instinct. Somehow Sanctuary and
Dome must become linked, but to facilitate what exactly, I do not
yet know. Hopefully, in one week, we shall understand. Belun,
agreed?”

“I don’t like
it, but I’ll do it.”

“Where are
you
going, Torrullin?” Quilla demanded.

“Grinwallin.
Teighlar knows something.”

“The singing
stones link these matters, do they not?” Quilla enquired.

“Perhaps.”

“Are the Valla
heirs safe?” Declan enquired. He was once charged with their
safety, but that duty moved into the hands of the Elders when
Tianoman left his teenage years.

“Yes. They
know nothing and I suspect they think I am mad, the way I suddenly
spoke of stones and layers,” Torrullin grinned. “They will be fine,
but I have alerted the council of Elders.”

“Are we to
meet in the Dome on Sanctuary?” Jonas asked.

“If I can get
it down in a week,” Belun muttered.

“You realise,
of course, the rumour mongers will see a symbiosis of Dome and
planet as proof of threat?” Amunti said.

Belun
grimaced. “Ah, the bait. Hell.”

“It may be
mere rumour,” Fuma murmured.

“Then we shall
rest easy in one week,” Torrullin returned.

“Where do you
think Lowen is, my Lord Elixir?” Erin asked.

“I think Lowen
has stepped back through time.”

A loaded
silence ensued.

“I suspect if
I step back as Elixir, I may place her in danger,” Torrullin
added.

“How?” Declan
asked.

“Stepping back
could alter the present.
We
could get around it, but can
Lowen? Talk to me on time shifts, Erin, and a choice may then be
made.”

“Understood,”
she said and there was sympathy in her tone.

“My Lord, I
don’t have a task,” Jimini called out.

“Your task is
with me,” Torrullin responded. “I need your particular talents to
infiltrate … places.”

Jimini was a
shapeshifter. She grinned her delight.

“That is all.
No word to another about this. Belun, unseal.”

The Centuar
did so and one after the other the Kaval left, until only Belun and
Jimini were within.

“Torrullin,
what’s going on?” Belun asked.

“I am not
sure, but foreboding bites. Will you cope with the Dome?”

Belun smiled.
“Somehow.”

Torrullin
clasped his shoulder and then said to the shapeshifter, “You leave
masked in my signature, so nobody knows I have you up my
sleeve.”

“You have no
signature, my Lord.”

Torrullin
grinned. “Then you won’t either, hmm? Shall we?”

Valaris

“He was
crazy.”

Tianoman sat
with his head in his hands and ignored the brandy Tristan offered.
“He virtually threw us out, too.”

“Stop acting
like a spoilt child,” Teroux muttered. “Something we said tied into
something he tried to figure out, that’s all. And he did
apologise.”

Tristan dumped
the snifter on the table beside Tianoman, and moved off to stand
before the window. His cousins continued bickering behind him, but
he ignored them. They were again ensconced in his private suite,
and the weather on Valaris was worse than the weather on
Sanctuary.

His
grandfather, a blood connection made simpler using that term,
remained an enigma.

Torrullin, the
man who was both Lifegiver and Destroyer, and proved both in the
past. The Enchanter, the Dome Dragon, nemesis to the Valleur
Dragon, and Elixir. Walker of Realms, Master of Reaume. Torrullin,
the One.

No wonder he
shut himself away. No wonder his marriage failed and no wonder
Lowen, the only other true Immortal in the entire universe, left
him. He barely lived with himself; how could others hope to do
so?

Yet he,
Tristan, felt an intrinsic connection to the enigma. Today he was
physically Torrullin’s arrested age, or as near as, and there was
the uncanny likeness they shared.

“Tristan!”
Teroux called out.

“What?”

“Where are
you, man? I’ve called you three times.”

“What is
it?”

“Tian and I
think we should go to Grinwallin, talk to Teighlar.”

Tristan swung
around. “Why?”

“Teighlar sees
our grandfather on a regular basis; he may shed light on what
happened today,” Tianoman said.

“Bad
idea.”

“You’re a real
ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” Teroux muttered.

“Teroux,
think. If he wanted us to know, he would’ve told us. Some crazy
plot is a-foot and we gave him a piece of the puzzle, but that’s
it. There is greater danger around than we know of. Teighlar won’t
tell us anything, for he sides with Torrullin.”

Silence and
then, “You call him Torrullin now?” Tianoman muttered.

“Yes, well, I
last saw him ten years … ha, ten years. I wonder if my
Coming-of-Age had anything to do with Lowen walking out? Remember
how strange he was that day? Happy to be at the Keep, yet tightly
controlled?”

Tianoman
shrugged. “I was fourteen, cousin, and more interested in the
Electan’s daughter.”

Teroux threw
Tianoman a grin and added, “I only remember getting really
pissed.”

“Fat help, you
two,” Tristan said. “Where do you stuff your wits most of the
time?”

Tianoman
gestured eloquently at his crotch, which sent Teroux into peals of
laughter.

Gods. Kids.
Tristan swung away.

He would call
his grandfather Torrullin, yes, for it felt strange to call a man
who appeared a brother in age ‘Grandfather’. Torrullin rarely
called Vannis that and even more rarely called Taranis ‘Father’.
When longevity slowed the aging process markedly and immortality
arrested it entirely, names were the real connections, not familial
status.