The Vildecaz Talents: The complete set of Vildecaz Stories including Nimuar's Loss, The Deceptive Oracle and Agnith's Promise (41 page)

“Always so mannerly,” Riast approved. “My personal messenger will bring you my thoughts in the morning, if that will suit you.”

“I would be grateful for your recommendations,” said Erianthee, trying to maintain a respectful attitude.

Riast chuckled. “You say that very well, Duzeon. I will try to choose myths that appeal to you as well as the rest of the company.”

“The Emperor is most understanding,” said Erianthee as she made her respect, aware that she ought to withdraw so that Toivanoch, King of Waniat, could address Riast.

Riast sighed. “Until tomorrow, Duzeon,” he said, nodding to acknowledge her respect before turning to Toivanoch.

Recognizing this for the dismissal it was, Erianthee stepped back, her hands joined demurely in front of her. She moved out into the gaudy throng, exchanging respects with those courtiers she remembered from the previous year, and longed for a good reason to return to her assigned apartments, but she knew this would be unacceptable. So she continued to make respects and proper greetings, all the while wishing she had the opportunity to leave.

“Duzeon Erianthee,” said a low voice with a Harro-ae accent somewhere over her left shoulder.

She turned, automatically respecting the speaker. Then she stared at the man in the midnight-blue dezhups of Harro-aen cut with a traditional standing collar arrayed with sapphires that brought out the color in his cerulean eyes. “Dozinen ae-Melukah.” Her surprise was genuine. “It has been two years since you and I were at Court together.”

“So it was,” he said, giving her a second, more profound respect. “Alas, I have been kept in Harro-ae completing a series of murals commemorating the Victory of Quardith ae-Freimir.”

“A grand undertaking, then, given the subject?” Erianthee asked, recalling how stories of the forty-year-old battle had spread through Theninzalk with the speed of the spells that carried them. “Harro-ae has every reason to mark that occasion and remember it with honor.”

Dozinen ae-Melukah smiled, his expression softening. “Yes, I remember your kindness from two years ago. It is reassuring to know your character has only become more cordial.”

“Or my manners have gotten better,” she suggested.

“Oh, don’t dash my pleasure, Duzeon.” He waggled a finger playfully. “You will crush me if you tell me – “

She held up her hand. “I wouldn’t dash your pleasure for anything. Such a distinguished artist as you are must be encouraged to embrace his visions, not distrust them.” Her tone was bantering, but she couldn’t hide her own satisfaction in having caught the attention of so important a figure as Dozinen ae-Melukah.

“I thank you, most gracious Duzeon,” he said with a respect before he allowed his attention to be caught by the Imperial guest from Niegee.

Watching him walk away, Erianthee thought that this was the first truly delightful thing that had happened to her since Kloveon had left her to Elet’s care. To have so distinguished a man seek her out was both flattering and encouraging. She wasn’t so naive as to assume that his interest had no secondary purpose, but for the time being, it was quite wonderful to have the Court aware that the most famous artist in all of Theninzalk had singled her out for notice at the opening of the Zunah. “I’ll consider it an omen,” she said to herself as she resumed her course around the Grand Reception Chamber.

* * *

The dais in the Performance Hall at Tiumboj Castle was much larger and grander than the one at Vildecaz Castle. The platform was four steps above the floor, surrounded by globe-lanterns, and backed by huge curtain of midnight-blue Adamine-velvet. A matching screen stood in front of it, where Erianthee would sit while she summoned up the Spirits of the Outer Air. The platform was surrounded on three sides by upholstered benches where the courtiers were taking their places, accompanied by a buzz of excited conversation. This promised to be an exciting evening, and both Erianthee herself and the members of the Court who were privileged to attend, were excited at the prospects of the entertainment.

When at last the Emperor and his current Empress were in their seats, Erianthee went out on the stage, her simple gaunel a marked contrast to the elaborate garments of the Court. She respected the assembled audience, and said, “Tonight you will see the Story of Rachnoraj, the Defender of Ancient Jinoarthcaz.” There was an appreciative intake of breath from everyone in the Performance Hall, for that was the most splendid story of the first great city to emerge on Theninzalk after The Cataclysm, and one every child on Theninzalk was told from earliest youth. Court being too decorous for more boisterous forms of applause, hums of approval made the Hall ring. Erianthee held up her hands, saying, “If the story pleases you, then your approval will be most welcome. But if you would, wait until then, in case the results are not to your liking.”

The gathered courtiers went obligingly silent, and the light from the globe-lanterns dimmed except for the two directly over the center stage; they glowed more brightly as Erianthee stepped behind her screen and sat down. “This is the Story of Rachnoraj, and how he defended Jinoarthcaz in the time of the Recovery. This is the story that the Emperor Riast II has asked to see performed.” She waited until the audience was almost silent, then she went on, “More than any city facing the Drowned World, Jinoarthcaz had prospered in the long, hard centuries, and had emerged glorious and admired everywhere.” On the platform, mists gathered and became the towered city of Jinoarthcaz, set on the point of the promontory at the mouth of a curving bay above a long arc of a break-water. The harbor was crowded, rumbustious with masts on ships from all ports on the Great World, and the city was glossy with prosperity. “In this city lived a builder, the famed Rachnoraj, the Master of the Fortress and Palace of Zaroga-Jin, whose talent allowed him to build stronger and finer castles than any other builder in three Worlds. Unlike most of the occupants of Jinoarthcaz, he was not native to the place. It was said that he came from Haverartbow, but that might have been because his hair was dark-red, as is many of the Haverartbins’ hair, or it may be that he had August Ancestors from the Lost Time whose hair was red. Wherever he came from and whatever his lineage, he had become essential to Jinoarthcaz and Bangli Minnaeto, the Aycar of the city.”

Two filmy figures gathered in and took apparently solid shape before the rising walls of Zaroga-Jin, both in garments of long ago, both with strength about them. “These two men had long been loyal to one another, more dependable than brothers, and more comfortable than servant and master. They shared a love of the city and of Zaroga-Jin that superceded all other loves in their lives.” The two figures moved, extending their arms to the wonderful port and its splendid defenses. “In those days builders were not allowed to use spells to reinforce buildings, the talent for such things being of limited effectiveness, and the talents they were allowed to employ were those of the Brotherhood of Roadmakers and Bridgebuilders, the talents of calculation and safe construction.”

The men strolled past the elaborate break-water at the mouth of the harbor, and the Aycar motioned to his red-haired builder, and pointed toward the break-water, then to the Palace of Zaroga-Jin. “Bangli Minnaeto understood that one of the burdens of prosperity was the envy of those less fortunate, and he longed to secure all of Jinoarthcaz from every sort of danger, from those of conjure-storms to the assaults of enemies. Diun Beidohr, Firnij of Otsinmohr was one of those who begrudged Jinoarthcaz its good fortune, and enlisted the help of others to turn against the grand city. He called other warlords of the region – the Firnij Ambuprikoj Sanmuveth of Udugan, and the Mirkal of Zaralk, Encantheon Uwarnaz, answered his summons, willing to undertake an assault on Jinoarthcaz.” At the edge of the light cast by the globe-lamps, three more figures took shape, all of them leaning together, their hands held at the wrists to swear their oaths.

“Before Womotomaj, the Fabricator, and Garinekoree, they pledged to fight together until Jinoarthcaz was theirs or the port was in ruins.” The figures held up oil and salt and wine to the god and goddess, each showing their determination by slicing a finger as token of the lands they held. “They called the most powerful weather-witches in all of Theninzalk and the Drowned World to aid them. Four great weather witches answered the summons and joined the endeavor.” Four figures in various kinds of early gaihups gathered behind the three noble schemers, each in the stance to summon bad weather. The seven figures drifted closer to the city of Jinoarthcaz and rose into the air, to show they were working at a distance. They commenced their rites and rituals to summon up storms and great waves which they launched at the Fortress and Palace of Zaroga-Jin.

“So great was the skill of Rachnoraj that the city of Jinoarthcaz and the Fortress and Palace of Zaroga-Jin withstood all the storms that the weather-witches could conjure. Gradually their efforts grew less effective, and the four weather-witches departed in disgrace.” The four figures drifted off and dissolved into nothing, and the three treacherous nobles once again came together to plot.

“It was Encantheon Uwarnaz who thought to try pestilence next, and although the other two were less willing to have such a disaster befall Jinoarthcaz, they were persuaded by the promise of riches they could claim when the worst was over.” The three figures drifted to the side, where they waited together until a sinister figure appeared. “To bring the pestilence, they summoned one of the Night Priests of Ayon-Tur, who accepted their challenge to blight Jinoarthcaz with sickness and suffering such as the city had never seen.” The figure in the dark gaihups of the Night Priests began a writhing dance marked by sudden sparks and howls from unseen voices. The three nobles stepped farther back from the baleful magician, apprehensive of the power his talents commanded.

“The pestilence the Night Priest summoned was a wasting one, that paled and shrank flesh, then peeled it from the bones.” A figure formed, showing the progress of the White Fever. The audience gasped as the sufferer went through all the phases of the disease. “This was let loose on Jinoarthcaz. But Bangli Minnaeto was no fool, and he had engaged two Priests of Dallan-Noj, who strengthened the people and the city against the White Fever, so that it passed over the city and struck the lands of Encantheon Uwarnaz so that all Zaralk was sickened, and the Mirkal himself died of it.” One of the three nobles fell away, leaving only two to act against Jinoarthcaz.

“With their resolve strengthened by desperation, Firnij Ambuprikoj Sanmuveth of Udugan and Firnij Diun Beidohr of Otsinmohr decided to approach the matter another way, and after a somber discussion, they agreed on what they had to do – they ordered the strongest magician in Theninzalk to summon up Ondirpikeon, the Cyclical, with an offering that would hold the god to any task they demanded. They told Ondirpikeon to make a wave as high as the promontory on which Zaroga-Jin stood to wash away the Palace and Fortress as well as the harbor below.” The two Firnijes approached the suddenly looming figure of the god of eclipses, tides, earthquakes, volcanos, astronomy, geomancy, and inquiry. The god was less clearly shaped than the men, and more awe-inspiring because of it. His shoulders were vast as a mountain range, and his square-sleeved doga shimmered as if it were made of oceans. The audience hummed their approval of this glorious manifestation that reached almost to the globe-lanterns above the performance platform.

“Because he had been bound, Ondirpikeon had to agree to do this thing, but he visited Rachnoraj in dream and warned him of the wave that was coming. Upon waking, he informed Bangli Minnaeto of what had been revealed. He said there wasn’t time to build up the walls or raised the breakwater, but he offered to send out a summons to the Priests of Mirvex-Doz on the Drowned World, asking for whatever aid they could provide.” A flock of winged creatures went out from the Fortress and Palace of Zaroga-Jin toward the Drowned World, far to the west in the Linthrovee Sea. As the Spirits of the Outer Air soared over the audience, the approving hum grew louder. This was a more remarkable Shadowshow than anything Erinanthee had done in the past, and the most dramatic part of the story had not yet been reached.

“Two days passed, and then there came three Kuyumai from the Drowned World.” The half-human, half-seal creatures entered the breakwater, each carrying a message-case in its jaws. Bangli Minnaeto appeared on the main wharf to greet the Kuyumai, Rachnoraj beside him. “The Priests of Mirvex-Doz could not stop the wave that Ondirpikeon had vowed to provide, but they could summon an earthquake that would lessen it. Jinoarthcaz would be damaged but not ruined. It was less than Bangli Minnaeto had hoped for, but more than he had expected, and he sent his gratitude back with the Kuyumais in the form of a binding treaty. The Kuyumais departed, and Rachnoraj set about emptying the harbor and the city as quickly as possible.” On the platform, the city roiled with activity, and in the harbor, ships jostled to get out through the opening in the breakwater without ramming one another in their haste to leave. At the same time, Rachnoraj had openings made in the breakwater so that the wave would not be trapped in the harbor, but would drain away as quickly as it came.” The frenzied escape continued as men worked on the long curve of the breakwater. Bangli Minnaeto returned to the Fortress and Palace of Zaroga-Jin, determined to remain, no matter what might come. Two small earthquakes shook the city, and a few of the paltry number of inhabitants remaining decided to depart. “All that could be done was done while Rachnoraj continued to work on the breakwater.” Everyone watching all but held their breaths, waiting for the next part of the story.