The Warrior Returns - Anteros 04 (33 page)

The boy returned with a battered, dog-eared copy. It had obviously passed through many interested hands. I bathed and ate a light supper, reading all the while. I was so deeply drawn into my brother's spell that I read half the night. I relived his agony with Cligus, the son whose betrayal I'd sensed when I cast the bones in Amalric's villa so many years ago. I struggled with him and Janela Greycloak across the unexplored wilderness where Tyrenia—the real Far Kingdoms—lay. I shared his despair when he was nearly defeated and his joy when final victory was won over Ba'land, the Demon King. And I wept when I read his last loving words, moments before he and Janela sealed their lovers' pact and took their own lives. I prayed that they'd truly found the glorious Otherworld they sought.

When I finally did sleep, I dreamed that I traveled with them in that world, and the sights we saw together in my dream were so marvelous that they'd spoil in the telling.

I slept late, dawdled in unaccustomed landside luxury, then dressed as I had before. I hired a litter and was carried up the hill to the temple.

When I arrived, the day was nearly done. The last of the worshipers were leaving, and after making a handsome donation to subsidize sacrifices for the poor, I was ushered into Mother Hana's presence.

Her rooms were on the far side of the temple, and as I was led across the holy place, trying not to sneeze from all the incense, I noticed that the walls were elaborately carved with scenes depicting the history of Pisidia and its Oracle. I tried to get a closer look when we paused before the Mother Oracle's door, but as soon as the priestess knocked, a voice called for us to enter.

She was a busy Mother Oracle and was hastily drawing on her holy robes of office to greet me. I could see that she'd just been preparing to relax before attending to her evening duties.

Then I'd arrived and made a donation deserving of a private audience.

Mother Hana was a handsome woman of some thirty-five summers. She was regal, with dark brows, a patrician nose, and piercing eyes. She had that forced smile holy people paste on their faces when they sniff riches for their poor boxes.

I knew she was thinking, I'll be nice no matter how big a rich boor she is. Just think of all the starving babies to be fed and smile, Hana, smile.

I bowed low. "I'm deeply honored, Holy Mother. And thank you for making a stranger welcome on such notice."

She murmured a polite reply, but as I came up from the bow she gave me a sudden odd look. I dismissed it, thinking it was my golden eyepatch that'd caught her attention.

"I've reached a crossroads in my life, Holy Mother," I said. "And I've come to seek your sage advice. If you think my goals are worthy, perhaps I could persuade you to consult the Oracle to help me choose the proper path."

Instead of answering, she peered at me more closely. Then she suddenly bolted to the door, saying, "Wait here!"

I was alarmed. What was wrong? Had I offended her? Or was it something worse? I was considering that it'd been a mistake to leave all my weapons at the door when Hana burst into the room again. The look on her face was one of wonderment.

"I
knew
there was a resemblance!" she exclaimed. "You're an Antero, aren't you?"

I nearly sputtered a weak evasion, then thought better of it. "How did you know?"

"Why, even with that, uh, eyepatch, I could tell." She grabbed my elbow and tugged me to the open door. "Look," she commanded, pointing to the largest frieze on the near wall.

There, in twice lifelike size, was carved an idealistic scene of a warrior woman fighting giant soldiers. The woman's face was clearly mine—sans the eyepatch, of course. Another woman fought beside her. It was Daciar, wearing her holy crown and robes.

"You could be Rali Antero's twin!" Hana said. "Come now. You can speak honestly, my friend. If you've come to us seeking sanctuary, I'll grant it without question. All Pisidia will consider it the greatest honor to protect the last Antero from any who might harm her."

My heart stopped. "What do you mean, the last Antero?" I said. "There was a child. Emilie Antero. My nephew's daughter."

"I fear she may be dead, my poor friend," Hana said. "I thought all the Anteros had been slain by those wicked Orissans.

"But look! Here you are! Clearly an Antero. Perhaps there are others, dear. Perhaps the child really isn't dead. Orissa is far, and news is slow and sometimes becomes garbled and twisted on end from traveling through so many mouths."

Rumor or news, I was haunted by the possibility that I'd lost before the battle had even begun. Hana guided me to a comfortable couch and fetched me brandy to steady my nerves.

It would take me months more to reach Orissa to discover the truth for myself. If Emilie were dead, I'd have to make another plan. A bitter laugh echoed in my mind. I thought, What plan,
Rali
? You haven't even reached the "commence planning" stage.

Hana sat across from me on a stuffed chair. We were in the marble receiving room, a traditionally cold place. But she'd taken the trouble to put comfortable furnishings and a few soothing tapestries on the wall. I suspected that her personal quarters would be less cluttered than Daciar's but just as welcoming.

'Tell me your name, please," she said with a warm smile. "I can't go around just calling you Antero. It sounds so
...
I
don't know
...
military!"

1 made a wry grin. "You don't know how close you are to being correct, Holy Mother," I said.

"Call me Hana, please," she admonished. "Or I shall take away the brandy."

"Then Hana it is," I said. And held up my cup to beg more.

My emotional balance had returned and I was considering how best to answer her question. Finally I decided to tell the truth—although in a circuitous wizardly way.

"I think it'd be best if you learned who I am for yourself," I said.

I tilted the cup, slowly pouring the contents into the palm of my gloved hand. The brandy came out as a shower of silvery flakes. It made a small shimmering heap in my palm. Then I poured it back and it became brandy again, splashing into the cup. While I did this little trick I felt Hana's magical senses recoil in surprise, then creep out to taste the ethers.

She grinned, eyes glittering with wisdom. "So that's how you escaped," she said. "You're a wizard! Like your great ancestor Rali Antero."

"I'm more than that" I said.

I dropped all shields, laying myself open to her. Inviting her to probe for truth. I sensed her recognition of my offer, then felt a gentle presence enter my aura. Quizzical fingers slipped here and there, tenderly skirting the edges of old wounds and older sins, until they came to the center of my auraself. They quivered, startled by what they found there. Tested again. Then slowly withdrew.

Hana's eyes were great moons of amazement. "You're
Rali
Antero herself!" she said. "How can this be? Am I dreaming? If so, don't wake me, for I am clearly insane!"

"All the crazy ones dwell in the heavens and sit on godly thrones," I said. "I won't speak their names for fear of lightning bolts striking too near."

Then I topped up our cups and told her my tale. The crier called the hour many times before I was done.

Hana wiped tears from her eyes. "Such suffering and tragedy," she said. "And yet the first thing that comes to my mind is your dear Salimar. How lonely she must be without you. How miserable you must be to be torn from her side. And if you fail, you might never be rejoined again."

"That might be so even if I don't fail," I said, barely disguising my bitterness. "Victory may well require my death."

I shrugged. "I'd thought I made my peace with the Dark Seeker long ago. Death wasn't something I sought eagerly. And I certainly had a normal fear of it. But now
..."
My voice trailed off. I shook my head.

"Now you have something personal to lose, Rali," she said. "You have Salimar. Before, you fought for your homeland, your family. But you had nothing that you'd gained for yourself.

"Money? I don't think money means anything to you. Power? I know your history. I've read your book and both of your brother's books and saw no such ambition in either of you.

"But your brother found love. Long-lasting love. And until Salimar—you had nothing but sad memories of your first real lover."

"Otara," I said.

Hana nodded. "Yes, that was her name. I recall it now— Otara. After you lost her, it was quite plain in your journal that you never expected to find such a love again."

"That's so," I said.

"Then I must make sacrifice tomorrow," Hana said. "All of Pisidia will participate. And we'll demand that the gods assist you in your mission. Rali Antero deserves no less."

"Please allow me to decline that gracious honor," I said. "No one can know that I've returned. I don't want Novari to have the slightest suspicion that I live."

Hana sighed, but nodded. "I understand," she said. "But if all must be done in secret, what can we do to help you? Just ask and it will be done. I'll see to it that no questions are asked."

"What I would welcome most right now," I said, "is information from someone I can trust. Tell me what you know of the events in Orissa, please. And how it's affected the rest of the world."

"The last is the simplest to tell," she said. "The whole civilized world is in shock. For your homeland has been torn by a bloody civil war that has disrupted all trade, shattered all alliances, and has many a villain scrambling for the dark profits that come from such things.

"We are so distant from the troubles that the only effect it's had on Pisidia is increased trade from merchants seeking new routes until things settle down. But we listen closely to all the news we hear because our sentiment is naturally with the people of Orissa, and especially the Anteros."

"How long has the civil war lasted?" I asked.

"More than two years," Hana said. "It began when a rogue Evocator—Kato—won election to the Council of Magistrates. He immediately purged the council of all but his cronies and seized power as Chief Magistrate. He declared martial law and made himself War Director, freezing the rights of all citizens."

"My people wouldn't take kindly to that kind of yoke," I said.

"They didn't," Hana replied. "In fact, the majority of the citizens revolted. They were led by two men. The first, and the most popular with the masses, was your own nephew, Her-mias Antero. The second was your Chief Evocator, Lord Palmeras."

I blinked in recognition of the name. Palmeras had been Chief Evocator when Amalric set out on his final voyage. From my brother's journal I gathered that he thought highly of the man.

"One of Kato's first actions, you see," Hana said, "was to seize the Palace of the Evocators. He wanted the workshops, of course, where new discoveries are being made every day advancing Janela Greycloak's discoveries. Palmeras was forced out, but he took a small band of Evocators with him."

I smiled a sad cynical smile. "I'm not surprised it was only a small band," I said. "We wizards are such a greedy breed."

Hana nodded. "What they seek," she said, "is iron control of what the scholars among us call 'Greycloak's Law of .Unification.' "

I couldn't help but chuckle. Scholars can make the most stunning ideas seem drab by their titles.

"The Evocators' ranks split badly for Orissa," Hana said, "but most of the people supported your nephew and Palmeras. There were many rallies and incidents, which for a time threatened to make Kato's reign a short one.

"Unfortunately, the Director's minority included the most influential men in the military. So he had a good portion of the army under his control."

"But not the Maranon Guard," I said. "They'd never go along with such a thing."

"Then you'll be pleased to know your sisters didn't disappoint you. They joined forces with the rebel army groups— special troops, mostly, from what I understand. Mountain fighters and other highly trained soldiers. They are the much smaller force, but so fierce and so able that for a short time it looked like they might win the upper hand. Alas, the latest news I have is that Kato has been gradually overwhelming them.

"First Hermias was killed leading an assault against the Palace of the Evocators, where Kato holds court. It was an assassin, not a soldier, who slew him, I'm told.

"Then a major battle was lost at the outskirts of the city and the rebel army had to flee. Palmeras and most of his Evocators escaped. As did your sisters of the Guard. The rest of the army suffered badly. They were led from the field of battle, it was reported, by a man named General Quatervals. It was called a textbook retreat and was spoken of adrniringly by those who know of such things."

That was another name I recognized. Quatervals had been my brother's strong right arm during his expedition to Tyrenia—then known as the "Kingdoms of the Night." Quatervals had also been among four people who'd taken on the special mission of carrying Amalric's journal back to Orissa.

"All of Orissa and most of the surrounding countryside are now under Director Kato's rule. I was told he used the term 'pacified.' Which meant all who opposed him were hunted down and slain. And all their family and all their friends. The Anteros were atop that death list.