A Shout for the Dead (43 page)

'It is a fine morning,' he said.

'It's still dark,' said Kessian.

'Yes. Three hours before dawn but there is much to do. Get yourself up. We need to eat.'

'Yes, Father.' Kessian pushed himself up in his bed and rubbed his eyes with his hands and frowned. He pushed out his mind into the castle. Gorian saw the energy lines probing to discover the cause of his confusion. 'It's so quiet.'

'Yes, it is.'

'Not just noisy quiet. Where is everyone?'

'Awaiting a new future, free of worry,' said Gorian. 'Come. Get dressed and I'll show you.'

Kessian's expression cleared and a little fear was back in his eyes. He got out of his bed and put on his toga, slashed Ascendancy red. The material was looking a little shabby but it still served. He strapped on his sandals. Gorian held out his hand and Kessian took it.

'Don't be frightened. It was always meant to be this way. You know that, don't you?' said Gorian.

The boy nodded. Gorian squeezed his hand to give him strength and comfort, and opened the door. They were on the ground floor of the castle in a room that let directly onto the covered yard. It was currently a makeshift barracks and all the Tsardon not on duty were lying on their cloaks or on straw. Not a one made a sound nor twitched a muscle. Kessian drew close to Gorian.

'You can feel them, can't you?' asked Gorian.

'They are all dead, aren't they?'

'They await me,' replied Gorian, looking upon them as a general might on his waiting army. 'And I will awaken them soon.'

'Why did they die?' asked Kessian. His voice was trembling.

'So they can serve me better. No dissent will lead to a quicker victory. Come with me.'

Gorian led him around the edge of the courtyard. Two men stood outside a room down a short corridor.

'My Lords Runok and Tydiol, I trust you slept well'

'Very peaceful,' said Tydiol.

'And the prince?'

'He awaits you inside.'

Tydiol pushed open the door and Gorian led Kessian inside. They were in the chambers of the castle commander. Spartan but spacious. In the ante-room, the two Gor-Karkulas were sleeping still. Their chests rose and fell in time with one another. Truly a fascinating group, that Gorian had only just begun to understand. Their power and potential though, he already knew very well.

Rhyn-Khur had demanded they be kept near him. He thought them the key and Gorian was happy to oblige. It kept them quiet and in fear of their lives and that was just fine.

'Wrong pick again, my prince,' said Gorian.

'Father?'

'Nothing,' said Gorian, walking across the ante-room to the bed room and opening the door. 'The prince overlooked you, that's all. He made a lot of mistakes. But not any more.'

Rhyn-Khur looked peaceful enough. He was lying on his back in the large bed, eyes closed and a tinge of blue around his lips. Kessian gasped.

'Him too,' he said.

'It's a lesson on the evils of drink,' said Gorian. He laughed. Not a bad joke, that one. 'They all drank a little wine or ale or spirit and then went to sleep, dreaming of another day. And when they wake, they will see it but not exactly as they thought.'

Kessian withdrew his hand. 'You killed them all.'

'Yes, obviously.' He laughed again. 'You know your namesake used to say that every time one of us said something stupid. But you know why I killed them, don't you?'

Kessian shook his head. 'They weren't doing you any harm.'

'Not yet but soon enough. Come on, Kessian, you heard the prince threaten me yesterday. How long before he carried out his threat and killed you into the bargain? I can't have that. I can't have people disagreeing with me, can
I?
This way, none of them will go against me. It's quite simple.'

'It's wrong to kill.'

Gorian felt the heat of brief anger. 'This is war,' he snapped. 'People die all the time. Most of these wouldn't make it to Estorr alive. Much better for them they see the white walls and the Hill this way rather than not at all, wouldn't you say?'

He could see and sense Kessian's confusion. The boy had no love of the Tsardon, that was certain. But he still clung on to ideas that did him no favours. There was still a lot of work to do.

'Have you not heard what the Dead Lords have told you?' Gorian continued. 'Death is not the end. It is just another step on a grand path. It comes to us all and most of us cannot choose when that will be. I chose the time for these Tsardon and the prince. What's wrong with that?'

'But what about all the others outside?'

Gorian smiled. 'Ah. Now you're thinking. And you're right. They probably won't be happy. But that's all right too because I have something planned for them.'

He scratched at the hard discoloured skin on his cheek. It had appeared when he'd raised the dead outside the castle yesterday. Kessian watched him.

'What is that?'

'Not everything under the soil is good,' said Gorian. it'll go soon enough. And that's part of the lesson. Now, I'm going to wake up these good folk and set them to their work. I'll need you to hold them until the Karkulas are ready. Then I'll show you something new and amazing.'

'When?'

'Good question.' Gorian considered. It should be a time fitting for the event. A time when no one could miss what was happening and marvel at his talent. 'Dawn, I think. Very first light. Now, hold my hand. I have need of you.'

Gorian sat down in a chair facing the bed and the dead prince. Kessian came to his side and sat on the floor. Gorian placed a hand on Kessian's head. The well of the boy's power opened to him and again he marvelled at the sheer enormity of it. Gorian and the other original Ascendants had an energy well that Arducius had once described as a water butt in size with which to amplify the elemental threads they took inside themselves. Kessian's was more akin to an entire reservoir.

When the boy fully understood it, he would be an enormous force in the world. And Gorian wanted him by his side when that happened. For now, though, it meant he had the capacity to sustain Works over very long periods. What was more, he, like the Gor-Karkulas, could do it unconsciously. It was a gift and Gorian was determined to learn the secret one day. There had to be a way to increase the well and thereby increase the potential duration of any Work or indeed its intensity.

Gorian fed calm into his life map and into that of Kessian. He felt the boy relax under the gentle tones while he pushed out with his mind, sampling the energies of the castle. So different than the day before. The chaotic colours and stray lines that characterised hundreds of people living in the same space was gone, replaced by a slumbering calm.

The cold dark of the castle's stone was underpinned by the leviathan power of the earth beneath its foundations and topped by the multiple grey shapes that indicated the bodies of poisoned Tsardon warriors. The Ascendants used to think that grey was the residual colour of lost energy. They were wrong. It merely waited to be re-energised. Reawakened.

To bring life where there was none. Surely a gift for gods.

The ambling energy of the earth was beautiful. Slow-moving browns, shot with the delicate quickness of tiny insect life and the incandescence of plants awaiting their moment to grow or of small mammals about their tasks. He drew on the earth, shuddering as its force entered his body. Under his hand, Kessian gasped. It was pleasure and pain combined. He settled quickly. Gorian and Kessian were part of the circuit of the earth now.

Awakening the dead had proved so simple in the end. The energy map was like a burst of pure fire in its intensity. But it had required plenty of tuning to reach a point where the dead, his people, would

walk in great numbers and not be prey to spikes in the energies feeding them.

Gorian constructed the life-giving map. Somewhere in his subconscious the number he was raising was counted. And for each one, a tendril of concentrated energy sought its home. At its base, the shape was a pulsating ball of brilliant blue from which the tendrils emitted. He waited for his construct to settle. He and Kessian might be able to awaken one or two with the power they could direct from themselves; the addition of earth energy and its subsequent amplification gave him everything he needed. The problem was containment.

'Are you ready, Kessian?'

'Yes, Father.'

There was no strain in his voice. So naturally gifted. Such a talent in waiting.

'Then I will allow the earth energy into the reanimation construct. We are bringing back over three thousand. There will be turbulence.' 'I understand.'

'I have no doubt that you do.'

Gorian opened a pathway to the ball of light and let the earth wash in. The energy would have swamped him in moments. To animate so many dead required a huge volume. But with his linked circuit to Kessian he could channel the raw fuel into him too and between them, they controlled and fed the earth into the reanimation. The ball flared, the energy grew exponentially and tore out through the tendrils which thickened and fled away in every direction.

Gorian cried out. His body stiffened and shook. His hand gripped hard on Kessian's head. The boy did not make a sound. Energy was dragged in from across the castle. Fires guttered. The air became charged. Beneath their feet, the stone flags rippled as the earth sought to burst out. He clamped it hard, desperate to maintain control.

He fed more earth energy into the construct, purity mixed with tiny motes of decay. Life was driven through everything that dwelled there. Plants burst to life, roots sought sustenance and then were dead. At the edge of his hearing, a squealing of thousands of rodents and tiny creatures whose life spans were condensed into mere moments by the power flooding through them on its way into the Ascendant wells.

And out it went, multiplied by a factor of ten, a hundred and more. Thrumming through the tendrils that thrashed and sparked. They sought, burrowed and tore, finding paths through the latent energies of the air, each one arrowing to its target, thudding home. Gorian felt every impact as a jolt through his body. He juddered and shook. A scream tore from his lips. Life was pain. Skin on his neck and chest hardened. Kessian grunted and tensed.

The tendrils sought the dormant energy within each Tsardon body. They expanded to encompass each one. Life drilled in, energising, awakening. Eyes snapped open. Breath was gasped into bodies. Confusion spread like a fire on dry grass. And for ev
ery
body that sustained consciousness once more, the pressure on Gorian eased. The life construct lessened in intensity. He could feed calm through it and into the minds of his subjects.

'Rise,' he said.

And they did. He could feel each one, marvelling at a new chance. Clawing at the life he had given them. He felt fear but he could quash it easily with the promise of release when their job was complete. Each new life fed back into him, the pleasure after the pain had gone. His Work was done. He had created life from death. He passed the construct into Kessian's mind and broke the circuit between them. He closed off the earth. He opened his eyes.

'Have them dress and move them outside,' said Gorian. 'It takes too much energy to sustain them through the stone. They will live easily on the ground out there.'

'Yes, Father.'

Gorian monitored his son. He could sense the movement of his new army. He could see the complex lines that made them what they were. Each one was linked to every other. Each one was linked hard to the earth and the earth gave them the strength to take the next step, to swing the sword. And in his mind, Kessian held the hub of the circuit. Should he let go, it would unravel in a heartbeat and the dead would fall. But he wouldn't. He didn't even know how.

Gorian stood and stretched quivering limbs. He felt at his skin and looked down. Beneath his toga, there was discolouration and small bumps. Pale green and brown or purple. Like fading bruises but covering his entire chest. To create purity you had to filter out the impurity. It would fade. His body would renew. He was an Ascendant. He was master of the elements, not prey to them.

Gorian knew he should be tired but he felt more awake and alive than he ever had in his life. In front of him, Rhyn-Khur got out of his bed and moved to his armour stand. Silently, he began to dress.

Efficient, deliberate moves. Not quite natural, still a puppet. Gorian smiled.

'Enjoy your new life, my Prince,' he said. 'It is the one ordained for you from the moment you joined me.'

He turned to the door back into the ante-chamber.