Nightlord: Orb (92 page)

He had a point.

“I see.  Go on.  Why the mirror?”

“You told us to be better than you.  Seldar pointed out we might need also to be the ones who stopped you.  While I have never asked regarding the fate of avatars, I was never told to destroy your form of flesh.  Nonetheless, Seldar and I kept the mirrors so we might still speak across the long miles and consult one another.”

“And if I was
too
awful, start planning your rebellion?” I asked.  Sir Beltar winced.

“Is it rebellion to be true to the ideals you laid upon us, when you are not?  When the King breaks the oath he swore when he made us knights?”  He asked in such an earnest tone, I didn’t need to see the soul inside him to know he really wanted an answer.  I had to think about it for a moment.

“No.  I told you to be better than me, which includes telling me when I need to be better than myself—and stopping me from being worse.  When I told you I wanted to be the worst of all my knights, I meant you should all strive to be better men than I—as King, I would have to do nasty and unpleasant things.  I didn’t mean you should be loyal slaves who aided and abetted horrors in the name of the King.”  I thought about it some more.

“I wasn’t there, Beltar.  I was a prisoner, unable to see what the Demon King did.  I don’t know what you and the other knights went through, what decisions you made, what plans you considered.  But I trust you.  You were one of
my
knights—no, you
are
one of my knights!—and so I believe in you.  Even without knowing what you did, I tell you this:  You did the right thing.  I have spoken.”

“I have no sword to lay at your feet, Sire.”

“You don’t do that,” I corrected.  “Never.  You salute with it.  You defend the weak with it.  You smite the wicked with it.  Someday, you may pass it on to a younger knight.  But you never lay it down.  It’s yours to wield, not to surrender to anyone, not even to me.”

“Yes, Sire!”

“Good.  Now wipe your face.”  I turned to Mary.  “Mary, please excuse me for not formally introducing you immediately.  This is Sir Beltar, one of the noblest knights I have ever known.  If I ever build a round table, he’ll have a seat at it.  Sir Beltar, this is Mary, my consort.”

“It is my honor,” Beltar declared, saluting.

“The honor is mine,” Mary replied, seriously.

“My Lord?”

“Yes, Sir Beltar?”

“Before I return to my duties, may I have leave to speak of Seldar?”

“Of course.  I really need to get more furniture for the great hall, here.  Sitting room?”

We removed ourselves to a side room with stone bench seating. 

“My Lord, I beg of you to speak with Seldar.  He greatly desires to speak with you.  What you have told me even now will be of immense importance to him, and for much the same reasons.  It hurt his heart to see the evil of the Demon King, and hurt him even more to leave your service.  He will want to know he did right.”

“I will.”

“Then I have done my duty to my god, my King, and my friend.”

“Nice when they all line up together, isn’t it?”

“Indeed.  Also, may I know why you chose to kill the priest, Perrin?  Has the Lord of Light offended against you again?  Or do you hate them, still?”

“Perrin?  I didn’t kill Perrin.  I fed him a hot meal and we had a good talk.  Last I saw of him, he was walking down the Kingsway.”

“I have heard you threw him from the gates to his death, but have had no time to ask you in the Temple.”

“Ridiculous!  I rather liked him and enjoyed the conversation.  Who says I killed him?”

“I have heard only rumors, my Lord King.”

“Find out.  I don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do.”

“I will,” he promised.  “But… my Lord King?”

“Yes?”

“I am one of the few who understand about your… difficulty during the majority of your reign.  I tell you the truth, you will be blamed and accused for many terrible things
you
did not do.  Yet, people have seen you do them, spoken of them, and the world now knows of your cruelty and lusts.”

“Now, hold on a minute—”

“Please, my Lord King.  I know what you would say.  It is not your fault, but it is you who must shoulder the blame.  You are not the one who has done these things.  You were a prisoner while the usurper ruled in your stead.  I am your High Priest, so I
know
.  But there are the thousands who have seen with their own eyes what your fangs have pierced, your sword has cut, and your hands have done.  While your spirit resided in the Temple, your flesh did woeful deeds.  Will the world deny the evidence of their eyes in favor of some story told by those who love you?”

Beltar always was somewhat thought-provoking.  Worse, he was right.  If I saw someone doing something awful—especially someone I didn’t know all that well—I’d have to believe what I saw.  Lacking any other evidence, or even unbiased sources…

Well, this could suck.  As a vampire, I ought to know.

“Okay.  I’ll bear in mind I’m an evil, soul-sucking monster to anyone and everyone until they indicate otherwise.  I’ve heard some conflicting reports on the subject, but I’ll err on the side of caution.  Any other good news?”

“None, my Lord King.”

“That’s a blessing.  Now, do you happen to know where I can find Tort or T’yl?”

“No, but I will immediately begin inquiries, if such is your will.”

“It is my will and earnest desire,” I assured him.  He started to go to one knee and I pushed him back onto the seat.  He was puzzled, but settled for saluting.  I smiled and nodded.  He nodded in return.

He used to be a bit of a klutz, but he was never stupid.

“Have you anything further you wish me to do?” he asked.

“No, that’s it for now.”

“Then I shall begin immediately.  If I may be dismissed?”

I whistled.  Bronze poked her head into the room.

“The Kingsway looks windy, cold, and possibly icy; I’m told it’s more dangerous than I know.  Think you can get Beltar wherever he’s going?”

Bronze snorted.  Silly king, asking silly questions.  If I wanted Beltar taken around the world, that might be challenging.  Getting him home was a task almost beneath her—except she would be happy to help.  She curled a foreleg back for Sir Beltar to use as a step.  Beltar moved out into the great hall and saluted me again.

“Farewell, my King.”

“Farewell, Sir Beltar.  Drop by anytime.  I mean, return whenever you wish, and be welcome.”

“I shall, my King.  With your permission, however, I would return to the Temple of Shadow through the underways.”

“It’s a long walk.”

“Yes, but Bronze will have no trouble with the tunnel.”

I paused for a moment, thinking.

“Tunnel?”

“Yes, Sire.  The tunnel from the Palace to the Temple.”

My first impulse was to ask.  My overriding impulse was to agree.  Bronze took him deeper into the mountain, nudged a pivot-door open, and started down a long, downward-sloping tunnel.  Beltar conjured a light to hover over his head as Mary and I watched them go.  Mary took my hand.

“Where does this tunnel come out?” she asked.

“Presumably, in the Temple of Shadow.”

“You don’t know?”

“It’s a big mountain.  I have a general feel for the place, but it’ll take a lot of study before I know all its secrets.”

“Fair enough.  So why did he come up the Kingsway?”

“No idea.  I’m sure he had a reason, though, and I’m sure it involves the public.  Making a statement of some sort perhaps?”

“Could be.  He seems like a sharp cookie and a surprisingly nice guy.  Are you going to get along with priests, now?” Mary asked.

“I don’t know.  I got along with Perrin, but don’t ask me why.”

“
Did
you throw him out?”

“Of course not.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“Yes.  If you’d killed a priest of the light, you wouldn’t deny it.  Besides, you’d have a great case of self-defense, since everyone knows they take serious issue with your existence.”  She smiled mischievously.  “He also wouldn’t have fallen to his death.  He’d have disappeared without so much as a smear of blood left behind.”

“Fair enough.  Which reminds me.  Remember the magi who were chasing us?”

“Yes.  I think.  You mean the ones from Earth, not some magi from around here?”

“That’s them.  I saw a spirit today.  It looked like a magi, or magus, or whatever the singular is.  It was a man in a button-down shirt and a tie, anyway.  Judging by the silver cord, I’d say someone was astrally projecting.”

“You mean we might have fled to an alternate reality and they’re
still
chasing us?”

“It’s not unheard of,” I grumbled.

“That’s ridiculous.  Are they out of their minds?”

“Possibly.  Or they’re fanatics.  Fanatics are bad.  One could make the argument that fanaticism is a form of mental imbalance.”

“Something needs to be done about them,” she muttered, darkly.

“I agree.  I’m working on that, too.”

“No, you’re standing here.  I’ll handle visitors.”  She shooed me into the great hall.  “Get to work.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

I got to work.  Sometimes it’s hard.  Being the only handyman in the palace means I’m busy, but I have other things I’d like to be doing.

Let’s see… Visuals for the psychic alarms, yes.  I added Beltar to the welcome list for the security spells.  Next, I finished the two mirrors at the upper door, moved on to two more at the lower, inner door.  After those came a field around the palace to highlight any wandering spirits—I’m not sure I always see free-roaming ghosts or astral projections during the day, and I doubt anyone else does.  Adding a visible aura around any immaterial being struck me as a good idea.  I also had to check on the charging stations for the diamonds.  Then I decided to add some light spells to the four firepits in the great hall for general illumination, as a courtesy to guests.

I’m kind of proud of my setup on those.  Whenever a fire burned in one of the pits, not only would the illumination spell turn off to conserve power, but some of the heat energy would be transformed into magical energy, charging the spell for me.  Plus, each firepit had a reflection spell; visible frequencies below the edge of the firepit were reflected up, to scatter from the polished gold of the ceiling.  Of course, then I had the idea to grow some sconces above the balcony-gallery thing running around the great hall.  With light spells in some stone pockets, shining up onto the ceiling, the place would always have a warm glow even without the firepits…

Sorry about that.  I like that sort of thing.

Bronze came back with the first of Mary’s projects for the night, bringing her into the great hall, out of the cold.  Mary handled the old lady gently, which pleased me, while Bronze came over to me and presented me with a hoof.  I saw her problem; the silencing spells were starting to wear thin.

“Remind me to put something more durable on, later,” I told her.  She flicked an ear in agreement while I re-energized and strengthened her hoof-spells.  Later, I might also include something for more traction… later, yes.  Mental note.  And, someday, an inertia-damping spell for additional cornering capabilities, as soon as I have time to develop one…

Then—finally!—it was back to my sand table.  Getting it up to speed took a while—most of the night, in fact.  It was almost morning before Mary came into my scrying room and sat on the edge of the table.  I slid myself out from under it and regarded her.

“Almost done?” she asked, swinging her feet.

“I think so.  That is, I think I’m done with it, but I keep finding little things I could tweak to work better.”

“But does it work?”

I climbed to my feet as she spoke and pulled her from the edge of the table.

“Watch.”

I called up an overhead view of the city.  A circle of powdery sand rose up, shivered down, and became a perfect little replica, complete with pre-dawn traffic on the streets.  Mary leaned close to stare and said something unladylike.

“Maybe after sunrise,” I agreed.  “Like it?”

“It’s amazing!”

“I agree.  I outdid myself on the original design.  This is the Mark Two version.”

“It’s upgraded?  How?”

“The original sand table only had four sensors.  This one has eight—four at a shallow angle, four more at a steep angle.  Better overhead views that way, especially in cities where buildings can block the view.  It’s also got spectrum-shifting for false-color images and generates air-refraction lenses at the far end for telescopic zoom.  Some places are blocked from direct scrying—that is, you can’t put a scrying sensor within a shield.  With this, I can look through walls in much the same way a spy satellite can, and zoom in on anything I can get a line of sight on.”

“You’ve got the equivalent of a magical spy satellite?”