Marune: Alastor 933 (12 page)

“Yes, lead the way.”

Agnois bowed. He swung smartly around, conducted Efraim out into the Great Hall, up the stairs, along a corridor into the Jaher Tower, and halted before a tall door studded with garnets. At Efraim’s signal he thrust the central garnet and the door swung wide. Agnois stood aside, and Efraim marched into the foyer of the Kraike’s private chambers. A maid appeared, and performed a quick, supple curtsey. “Your orders, Force?”

“I wish an immediate word with Her Presence.”

The maid hesitated; then taking fright at Efraim’s expression disappeared the way she had come. A minute passed, two minutes. Then Efraim pushed through the door despite a muffled exclamation from Agnois.

He stood in a long sitting room hung with red and green tapestry, furnished with gilt wood settees and tables. Through an opening to the side he sensed movement; he went on swift strides to the portal and so discovered the Kraike Singhalissa at a small cabinet built into the wall, into which at the sight of Efraim she thrust a small object and slammed the door shut. Swinging about she faced Efraim, eyes glowing in fury. “Your Force has forgotten the niceties of conduct.”

“All this to the side,” said Efraim, “I desire that you open the cabinet.”

Singhalissa’s face became hard and gaunt. “The cabinet contains only personal treasures.”

Efraim turned to Agnois. “Bring an axe, at once.”

Agnois bowed. Singhalissa made an inarticulate sound. Turning to the wall she tapped a concealed button. The door to the cabinet opened. Efraim spoke to Agnois. “Bring what you find to the table.”

Agnois, gingerly brought forth the contents of the cabinet: several leather portfolios and on top an ornate key of iron and silver, which Efraim took up.

“What is this?”

“The key to the Privy Case.”

“And this other matter?”

“These are my private papers,” declared Singhalissa in a voice of metal. “My contracts of trisme, the birth documents of the Kang and the Lissolet.”

Efraim glanced through the portfolios. The first showed an intricate architectural plan. He glanced at Singhalissa who stared back coldly. Efraim signaled to Agnois. “Look through. these documents; return to Her Presence the effects she describes. All others, set aside.”

Singhalissa settled herself into a chair and sat stiffly. Agnois leaned his heavy back over the table, peering diffidently into the documents. He finished and pushed one group of papers aside. “These concern the personal affairs of the Kraike. The others more properly belong in the Privy Case.”

“Bring them along.” With the coldest of nods to Singhalissa, Efraim departed the chamber.

He found Matho Lorcas where he had left him, lounging in a massive leather-backed chair, examining a history of the wars between Scharrode and that realm known as Slaunt, fifty miles south. Lorcas put aside the volume and rose to his feet, “What did you learn?”

“About what I expected. The Kraike has no intention of accepting defeat - not quite so easily.” Efraim went to the Privy Case; applied the key and threw wide the heavy doors. For a moment ha regarded the contents: sheaves of documents, tallies; certificates, handwritten chronicles. Efraim turned away. “One time or another I must examine these. But for now” - he looked across the room to where Agnois stood, stiff and silent as a piece of furniture. “Agnois.”

“Yes, Your Force.”

“If you feel that you can serve me with single-minded loyalty, you may continue in your present post. If not, you may resign at this moment, without prejudice.”

Agnois spoke in a soft voice: “I served Kaiark Jochaim many years; he discovered no fault with me. I will continue to serve the rightful Kaiark.”

“Very good. Find suitable materials and prepare s sketch of Benbuphar Strang, indicating the chambers used by the various members of the household.”

“At once, Force.”

Efraim went to the massive central table, seated himself, and began to examine the documents he had taken from Singhalissa. He found what appeared to be a ceremonial protocol, certifying the lineage of the House of Benbuphar, beginning in ancient times and terminating with his own name. In crabbed Old Rhune typescript, Kaiark Jochaim acknowledged Efraim, son of the Kraike Alferica, from Cloudscape Castle
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, as his successor. A second portfolio contained correspondence between Kaiark Jochaim and Kaiark Rianlle of Eccord. The most recent file dealt with Rianlle’s proposal that Jochaim cede a tract of land known as Dwan Jar, the Whispering Ridge, to Eccord, in consideration of which Rianlle would offer the Lissolet Maerio in trisme to the Kang Efraim. Jochaim politely refused to consider the proposal, stating that trisme between Efraim and Sthelany was under consideration; Dwan Jar could never be relinquished for reasons of which the Kaiark Rianlle was well aware.

Efraim spoke across the table to Agnois. “Why does Rianlle want the Dwan Jar?”

Agnois looked up wonderingly. “For the same reason as always, Force. He would build his mountain eyrie on Point sheen where the way is convenient to and from Belrod Strang. The Kaiark Jochaim, you will remember, refused to indulge the Kaiark Rianlle in his urgent caprice, citing an ancient compact with the Fwai-chi.”

“The Fwai-chi? Why should the matter concern them?”

“The Whispering Ridge harbors one of their sanctuaries,
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Force.” Agnois spoke tonelessly, as if he had decided never again to display surprise at Efraim’s vagueness.

“Yes, of course.” Efraim opened the third folder and discovered a set of architectural sketches depicting various aspects of Benbuphar Strang. He noticed Agnois averting his gaze in conspicuous disinterest. Here, thought Efraim, were the secret ways of the castle.

The drawings were elaborate and not readily comprehensible. The Kraike might or might not have made copies of this document. At the very least she had pored over the plans in grim fascination; she undoubtedly knew the secret ways as well as she knew the open corridors.

“That will be all for the moment,” Efraim told Agnois. “Under no circumstances discuss our affairs with anyone! If you are questioned, declare that the Kaiark has explicitly forbidden discussion, hints, or intimations of any sort!”

“As you command, Force.” Agnois raised his faded blue eyes to the ceiling.

“Allow me, Force, if you will, a personal remark. Since the disfunction of the Kaiark Jochaim, affairs at Benbuphar Strang have not gone altogether well, although the Kraike Singhalissa is, of course, a positive force.” He hesitated, then spoke as if the words were forced from his throat by an irresistible inner pressure. “Your return naturally interferes with the plans of the Kaiark Rianlle, and his amicability cannot be taken for granted.”

Efraim attempted to seem puzzled and sagacious at the same time. “I have done nothing to antagonize Rianlle - nothing purposeful certainly.”

“Perhaps not, but purpose means nothing if Rianlle discovers himself to be thwarted. Effectively, you have annulled the trisme between the Kang Destian and the Lissolet Maerio, and Rianlle will no longer derive profit from a trisme between himself and the Kraike Singhalissa.”

“He values the Dwan Jar that highly?”

“Evidently so, Force.”

Efraim hardly troubled to dissemble his ignorance. “Might he then attack by force?”

“Nothing can be considered impossible.”

Efraim music a sign of dismissal; Agnois bowed and departed.

Isp became umber. Efraim and Lorcas traced, retraced, simplified, coded, and rendered comprehensible the plans to Benbuphar Strang. The passage leading up from the back of the refectory seemed no more than a simple shortcut to the second floor of Jaher Tower. The true mirk-ways radiated from a chamber to the side of the Grand Parlor; passages threaded every wall of the castle, intersecting, opening into nodes, ascending, descending, each coded with horizontal stripes of color, each overlooking chambers, corridors, and halls through an assortment of peepholes, periscopes, gratings, and image-amplifiers.

From the chambers of the former Kang Efraim and the current Kang Destian radiated less extensive passages, which could be entered by secret means from the Kaiark’s Mirk ways. With a gloomy shiver, Efraim pictured himself in his grotesque man mask purposefully striding these secret corridors, and he wondered into whose chambers he had thrust wide the door. He pictured the face of the Lissolet Sthelany: pale and taut, her eyes blazing, her mouth half-parted in an emotion she herself would not know how to interpret … He returned his attention to the red portfolio, and for the tenth time inspected the index which accompanied it, where the locks and springs controlling each exit were described in detail, together with the alarms intended to thwart illicit passage along the Kaiark’s mirk-ways. Exit from the terminal chamber - the so-called “Sacarlatto” - was barred by an iron door, thus protecting the Kaiark from intrusion, and other such doors blocked the passages at strategic nodes.

Efraim and Lorcas, having achieved at least a superficial acquaintance with the maze, rose to their feet and considered the wall of the Grand Parlor. Silence was heavy in the chamber.

“I wonder” mused Lorcas, “I wonder … Might someone intend us unpleasantness?

A pitfall or a poison web? Perhaps I am oppressed by the atmosphere. Rhunes, after all, are not allowed to murder - except by mirk.”

Efraim made an impatient gesture; Lorcas had accurately verbalized his own mood.

He went to the wall, touched a succession of bosses. A panel slid aside; they climbed a flight of stone steps and entered the Sacarlatto. They walked upon a dark crimson carpet, under a chandelier of twenty scintillas. Upon each panel of the black-and red-enameled wainscoting hung a carved marble representation of a man-mask in low relief, so that the object lay near-flat against the panel. Each mask depicted a different distortion; each bore a legend in cryptic symbols. At six stations, mirrors and screens provided views across the Grand Parlor. Lorcas spoke in a hushed voice, which was further attenuated by a quality of the chamber. “Do you smell anything?”

“The carpet. Dust.”

“I have a most sensitive nose. I detect a fragrance, an herbal essence.”

Standing stiff and white-faced in the gloom, the two men seemed a pair of antique mannequins.

Lorcas spoke again. “The same essence hangs in the air after Singhalissa has passed.”

“You believe then that she was here?”

“Very recently - watching us and listening as we worked. Notice, the iron door is ajar.”

“We will close it; and now I will sleep. Later we will lock off the other doors and there will be no more prowling and spying.”

“Leave this in my hands! I am fascinated by such matters and I am not at all tired.”

“As you like. Remember, the Kraike may have set out alarms of her own.”

“I will be careful.”

1. The term tsernifer, here translated as ‘Force’, refers to that pervasion of psychological power surrounding the person of a kaiark. The word is more accurately rendered as irresistible compulsion, elemental wisdom, depersonalized force. The appellative ‘Force’ is an insipid dilution.

2. Rhune warfare is controlled by rigid convention. Several types of engagement are recognized. In formal combat, fighting occurs between persons of equal rank.

If a person of high caste attacks one of low caste, the low-caste person may protect, retreat, or retaliate. If a low-caste person attacks a person of high caste, he is reprimanded by everyone. The weapons employed are swords, used only for thrusting, and lances.

On occasion the raiders come masked; they are then known as “mirk-men” and treated as bandits. All weapons may be legitimately used against mirk-men, including the so-called “bore,” which propels a short arrow or bolt by means of an explosive charge.

Occasionally large-scale battles occur, when the total manpower of one Realm is mobilized against that of another.

Warriors trained to the use of sky-sails command special prestige. The rules of sky-fighting are even more complex than those governing warfare afoot.

3. The word cogence is used to express that fervent erudition and virtuosity of the Rhunes.

4. The dialect of the Rhunes is rife with delicate ambiguities. The term ‘to refresh oneself’ is susceptible to several interpretations. In this case it may be supposed that the Kraike indulges herself in a nap.

5. Rhune lineage is reckoned through the mother owing to the unregulated circumstances of procreation, although in many cases father and son are mutually aware of their relationship.

6. Inexact translation. More accurately: place of spiritual regeneration, stage of pilgrimage, phase of the life-road.

In the Kaiark’s sleeping chamber, Efraim awoke and lay in the dimness.

On the mantlepiece a clock showed the mode to be aud, with Furad and Maddar about to set and abandon the sky to chill isp. A second dial reported Port Mar Local Time, and Efraim saw that he had slept seven hours - rather longer than he had intended.

He looked up toward the high ceiling, contemplating the condition in which he found himself. His advantages were easily enumerated. He ruled a beautiful mountain realm from a castle of archaic glamour. He had at least partially thwarted his enemy, or enemies; at this moment he, or she, or they, would be brooding long slow thoughts. Benbuphar Strang harbored antagonists, but to what purpose? These persons were at hand when his memory was smothered … The thought caused Efraim to shiver with rage and raise up from his couch.

He bathed and took a dismal breakfast of cold meat, bread, and fruit in the refectory. Had he not known the quality of Rhune custom he might have regarded the food as a purposeful affront … He speculated as to the advisability of innovation: why should the Rhunes conduct themselves with such exaggerated daintiness when trillions of other folk feasted in public, with never a concern for their alimentary processes? His own single example would only arouse revulsion and censure; he must think further on the matter.

On the racks and shelves of his dressing room he discovered what he took to be his wardrobe of six months before - a somewhat scanty wardrobe, he reflected. He pulled out a mustard-colored tunic with black frogging and dark red lining, and looked it over: a jaunty garment which no doubt on some informal occasion had set off young Kang Efraim to advantage.