Dark Heart Part 17

I do not wish to converse this way, she insisted, halting her slow walk uphill.

Good. Neither do I. It is too dangerous.

Dangerous? No one can overhear us! I meant it is unpleasant.

No, Stella, it is dangerous. You and I are not the only ones who employ this method of communication, though the others are presently far away. Please, you have come this far; just twenty more paces?

'Far enough,' Heredrew said a few moments later.

She found him leaning against a metal rail built to guard against people falling from the street into the lower city. His long face, so reminiscent of Phemanderac's features-though arranged far more handsomely, of course-broke into a smile as she approached.

'You're early,' she said. 'Very early. And in the wrong place.'

'As are you. It took me some time to wake you, I confess, and even then you stayed abed for longer than I hoped. Events move apace. And I thought the girl with you might choose to betray our conversation. So I make no apology for waking you.'

'You woke me? You inhabit my dreams?' she asked, disgusted.

'Barely. But enough to wake you from them.'

'What is so important that you'd invade someone's sleeping mind?'

'The view from here is spectacular,' he said, ignoring the question. 'And will become more so as the dawn takes hold. This truly is a beautiful place.'

'Not as beautiful as the place you sunk below the waves,' Stella snapped. Anything to unsettle him, she thought. I have only one weapon.

'True,' he said, and she was unsure whether he answered her words or her thought.

'What do you have to say to me?'

'Just this. Many things are happening in the world, and you are ignorant of them all. I wanted to speak to you privately to offer you information and a choice.'

'I don't like being called ignorant.' The words sounded petulant even as she said them.

'Who does? I've admitted my own ignorance; how easy do you think it was for me to recognise this, let alone tell you?'

'The choice?' Stella pressed. She knew she was being manipulated, but what could she do? She did not have to act on anything he said. He could not force her...The truth was, she had no idea what he could and couldn't do.

'Walk away now and never think of me again. It would be the healthiest thing for you to do, in truth. With effort, together we could sever the blood-link between us, though I can do nothing about the blood itself. Then go and live your life as best you can. If you choose to do this, promise me one thing.'

'How can I promise when I have yet to hear the alternative?'

'True. Nevertheless, should you choose to walk away from me, promise you will give some thought to what you will say to me when we meet in the far future, the last two people alive, scouring the ruins of the world in search of anything salvageable.'

'You make no sense,' she said, but his words chilled her.

'I am saying that the inevitable result of you walking away from me today will be your inadvertent service of another, to the destruction of the world.'

'Hah. Your choice is already no choice, even before I have heard the other side of it. As you intended.'

'As I intended,' he acknowledged. 'There is no point in trying to outthink you.'

'Or outflatter me. The other choice, please?'

'Choose to listen to me as I tell you about the conflict that has already begun to destroy the world. If you agree to listen, you will have no choice, I believe, but to involve yourself in my schemes. Not because of my persuasive power, or any other compulsion I could lay on you-and you know I could; I am sure you remember-but because of your own conscience. Therefore you face your choice now. Listen or walk away.'

'I know one thing, Kannwar,' she said, using that name in this place for the first time. 'I know you will neither tell me all the truth nor give me a real choice. Should I defy you now, you will find some other way to compel me. I don't know what you've been doing for the last seventy years, but if you've given our time together any thought at all you'll have realised I defied you even when completely in your thrall. So, fair warning. If you compel me by any means, I will find a way to defy you and bring your schemes to nothing, just as I did in the Falthan War.'

She s.h.i.+vered. The cold, she told herself.

The man before her bristled. Nothing about him changed physically, but somehow she sensed the deep well of power within his illusory sh.e.l.l. A strength deep enough to drown her, should he choose.

'I am not accustomed to being defied,' he said.

'It's good for you,' she replied, making her tone light. 'Keeps you human, and that ought to be an ongoing concern for you. It is for me. I don't want to turn into a self-obsessed empire builder. Opposition teaches you to negotiate, to give as well as take.'

'But there are those who would take everything,' he said. 'Stella, I'm out of patience. Make your choice.'

'I'll hear you,' she said, and knew as she uttered them that the words were fateful.

'Then hear me. Two years and more ago a man came to Andratan as part of a delegation from Faltha. This delegation told officials from Malayu they were merchants seeking to solidify trade relations.h.i.+ps. You have no idea how often I have heard similar stories from people desperate to find out if I am real, what I am doing or whether I recovered from the last Falthan War. You would think spies would be a little more creative.'

'You have recovered though,' she said. 'Though I did not need to travel to Andratan to be aware of your progress.'

'You would have been welcomed,' he replied. 'No doubt you kept track of my progress in the same way I did yours, through the link between us. Had you known it, you could have read my mind with a little exertion of your own.'

'Not something I have ever wanted to do,' she said, but it was a lie, and she could see he knew it to be so.

'So the supposed merchants were allowed access to Andratan, though I did not intend to speak to them myself. Such spies are always a.s.sessed for their susceptibility to being turned, and over the years many have been, while remaining totally unaware of it. There are two such living quiet lives in this very city.'

'Is it any wonder I find you so unpleasant?'

'I need the information,' he said, allowing a little of his anger to show. 'It turned out this delegation was from the newly risen Koin.o.bia of Instruere, sent to gather information to enable them to a.s.semble their scrolls. I admired their devotion to duty rather more than their good sense.

'One of the men was not like the others. There was something about him that drew my attention. Something within him, much like you, in fact. A trace, an aroma, of the Most High. Most unexpected in a priest, trust me.'

'No,' said Stella, suddenly suspicious of where this story would lead. No.

'Oh yes, taking religious orders is a most effective way to lock him out. I cast a compliance spell on the man and had him brought to my tower. I had barely begun the interrogation when the fellow broke his bonds, stood up and wandered over to the south window, towing three of my strongest guards behind him.'

Heredrew closed his eyes. He was so caught in his memory that, had she been armed, Stella could have struck him down where he stood.

'He looked out for a moment, then turned and spoke to me. Stella, I have no doubt you remember the servant I a.s.signed to you when you were my guest-'

'Captive,' she retorted.

'Captive, then. I honour the man's memory, though I don't expect you to believe that. I do know he died many years ago, and was buried in front of the Hall of Meeting in Instruere with a full public ceremony. That pleased me.'

Stella found herself shocked at the level of knowledge he displayed of her affairs. She forced herself to make no comment about this. 'You treated him shamefully. For that alone you have earned my undying hatred.'

The man did no more than shrug his shoulders. 'On the day you left me, seventy years ago, and took my servant with you, he spoke to me with the voice of the Most High. I will never forget it, of course. Two years ago I heard the voice of the Most High again, this time from the mouth of a Halite priest.'

Dawn spread its gentle wings across the sky as Stella struggled with the familiar nausea a.s.sociated with thinking about this man, her enemy. She closed her eyes and tried to regain control of her stomach, resigned to this story's likely end.

'What did the voice tell you?'

'He gave me the choice I am giving you,' came the calm reply. 'I chose to become involved; or, at least, I told the voice I would. Naturally, I still reserve my options.

'I was told that the time of the world's destruction has come. The two rebellious children of the Most High have found a way to break into the world. This will allow them to dominate more directly the civilisations of the three great continents. He told me that this would likely lead to a gradual decay in the world's natural order, beginning with the very fluxes upon which the earth stands, causing earthquakes and fountains of fire to burst forth from the ground. While I did not doubt the truth of the words, the fact that I had that very morning spoken with a scholar who reported significantly increased earth tremors throughout northern Bhrudwo helped confirm the message. Of course, you would have heard of the recent devastating Malayu earthquake. No? Do you no longer have reliable sources in Bhrudwo? Hmm. I will have to supply some.

'By itself this is no confirmation of the truth of the avatar's words. After all, it is a common tendency of humans everywhere to notice only those data that confirm a trend. However, the man predicted a rise in other features: storms, floods, whirlwinds, droughts and all manner of imbalances in the world's physical processes. Such things will gather in intensity until they tear the world apart. I believe we are seeing these things in Bhrudwo now. My informants tell me, however, that Faltha remains relatively unaffected. I have no information on how the southern continent fares.

'I argued with the voice, a.s.serting that this state of affairs was his fault. You've read my scroll, you know my point of view, and I argued it vigorously. He chose not to dispute this, which angered me, pointing out instead that no matter whose fault it was, we would all suffer together. The world, he said, would die a slow death, torn apart by the growing metaphysical instability initially caused when he was driven out of the southern continent, and now fatally exploited by his son and daughter.

'The voice invited me once again to a.s.sist him in putting right what had gone wrong so long ago. It seemed not to matter to him that I had spent two thousand years killing those who served him. I thought this indecent, and told him so. He evaded the point.

'I then said to him: "You're going to tell me that if you interfere directly in this matter, the fabric of the world will immediately come apart." He acknowledged this. If the children of the Most High were to be defeated, he told me, it was we who would do it.'

'We,' Stella said wearily. 'This is a fireside tale, and a poor one at that. Two immortals, a man and a woman, to face the evil son and daughter of the Most High. I seem to remember a similar-sounding story presented to our court by the Deuverran Players just last year. These stories are always about the fate of the world and combat between men and G.o.ds. Force me into captivity again if you must, Kannwar, but don't bore me to death first.'

'I am sorry,' the man said, and he sounded it. 'If you reduce any story down to its bare essentials it will sound like a fanciful fireside tale. Perhaps you should ask the priest himself. He would likely give you a much more convincing version of my tale, since it came out of his mouth.'

'Ask the priest? You mean Conal?'

'I don't remember his name. But the young priest who travels with you is the one used by the Most High to deliver his message to me in Andratan.'

And so the circle closes, Stella thought, just as she had feared. No wonder she had sensed something about him.

'No,' she said.

'What?' The man sprang forward from the railing as though avoiding an arrow. He halted a pace from her.

'No. The voice did not mention me by name. If it had, you would have told me. So, no. Do it yourself. I offer you the same answer you offered him two thousand years ago, and for exactly the same reason. No!'

'You will have no answers from me if you refuse,' he said, keeping his voice level only by obvious effort.

'No answers, then,' she said, finally throwing open the gates she had kept so closely guarded. 'Fine. I doubt you have any. Certainly no answers that help you understand what it means to be human. A public apology to me should be delivered with the knowledge of those hearing it. And should you eventually apologise properly, it will not be enough to satisfy me. Not nearly enough. Were you to give me a year of your life as a servant, or ten, or seventy, it wouldn't suffice. Were you to draw the knife on your belt and gut yourself in front of me, I would dance on your entrails and still hate your memory for ten thousand years. Do you understand? You ruined me. Ruined! I never touched the man I loved for fear I would infect him with your punishment!' The tears started, hot and painful. 'A creature like you always sees and does what is most important to himself, no matter who it hurts. I am human, I'm not like you, but I see hatred and revenge! And I choose to pursue them!'

She took the stride that brought them together: some things needed physical contact. Her hand snaked out and took a fistful of his ornate tunic. He did not resist as she slammed him back into the railing.

'You killed many of my friends,' she spluttered, showering him with water and snot. 'Thousands of people died resisting you. I died resisting you. Why didn't you leave me dead?'

He was silent a moment, then offered the only answer that would keep her from pus.h.i.+ng him over the railing and letting him fall into the lower city. She would do it. She knew he would let her. A new test of the limits of immortality.

'Because I wanted you to live,' he said.

Conal had awoken when Stella cracked her s.h.i.+n against the oaf's cot. Robal had done nothing more than murmur faintly, paying about as much attention to the world asleep as he did awake. But Conal woke alert and aware that something was wrong.

Something had been wrong for at least a day. Stella had behaved strangely in the scriptorium yesterday. Much of what was said between her and that northern sorcerer had not rung true. They needed watching.

He did not challenge her as she slipped through the door. She would say she was merely going outside to take in the view, or for some privacy, and where was the fault in that? No, let her do something suspicious within sight of his keen eyes, and he would record it for the scroll. He waited until she had left the room, then rose, dressed-he tried to hurry, but he had always been a fastidious dresser-and followed her.

She was some way up the street, talking to the tall northerner. Still nothing wrong, but definitely suspicious. Hadn't the man said he'd conceived a fancy for her? What was she doing talking to him in the pre-dawn dark? Playing the harlot? Look at how he lounged against the railing, watching her as she leaned towards him. The priest's muscles tensed and he began to drift closer, favouring the deepest shadows.

'Walk away now and never think of me again,' he heard Heredrew say. A lover's tiff, then. He did not catch much of Stella's reply, apart from an accusation that made no sense. So he wanted to end it and she wished to continue. Harlot. Power-seeking wh.o.r.e.

He could approach no nearer than the width of the street. Hidden around the corner of the nearest house, he was confident they could not see him. Trouble was, he could barely hear them. Not one word in four. The tall man said something about a conflict-or convict-and her involvement in his schemes.

Everything changed with her clear reply. 'I know one thing, Kannwar,' she said distinctly in a raised voice. She clearly wanted the man to hear the name she used.

Kannwar? For a moment his mind faltered. Was it possible?

The Destroyer?

Conal tried reinterpreting everything he remembered of yesterday's encounter in the scriptorium in the light of this knowledge.

'I will defy you,' she said.

'I'm not accustomed to being defied,' he answered, sounding like the ruler of darkness himself.

Conal listened to a tale almost beyond his understanding. He barely noticed it draw him forward, out from the cover of the building and into the street, the better to hear the man's words. Neither Stella nor the man she had named Kannwar noticed, so intent were they on each other.

The mention of the Koin.o.bia's spying mission froze him in his tracks. He had been the most junior member on that mission, and had been unwell for two of the three days they had spent as guests in Andratan. How had this man known? And if the Destroyer had known, why had he suffered them to live?

As the tale unfolded, Conal felt a weight descend upon him. A realisation that the real world was like and yet unlike the world he had read about in the theological scrolls: real in that supernatural things could happen; unreal in that they had happened to him.

When Kannwar named him as the unwitting mouthpiece of the Most High, he nearly fainted with the shock.

He had not known. Had no memory of it. Yet it was true, he could feel it.

To be used without volition! Treated as a piece of meat! Not worthy enough even to be asked his permission! Anger, humiliation, outrage and self-loathing fought for supremacy in his spinning head.

He regained control of his thoughts in time to see the Destroyer launch himself at Stella, who fought him off. She screamed at him, then reached out and took hold of him. He's going to kill her. Or she him.

The back of Conal's head flashed white and abruptly he had no control over his movements. He tried, how he tried, to resist his strangely empowered muscles, especially when he realised what he was about to be compelled to do. He tried to shout a warning through an immobilised throat. No sound emerged. Powerless, he was a spectator to what happened. His body rushed forward, left shoulder lowered.

He struck Stella a rising blow in the small of the back with his entire weight, sending her cannoning into the tall man. Stunned, Conal fell to the ground, his muscles his own again too late, and lifted his head in time to see both Stella and the Destroyer topple backwards over the railing and vanish from view.

Robal was most of the way through preparing the morning's bread when he thought to ask Stella how much she wanted. The thick loaves had been left by their hosts: strange silent people who clearly regarded feeding the outlanders as a solemn part of their clan duty, but talking to them as well beyond it. The guardsman puzzled at this arrangement. How could a mother and father leave their young girl in the care of mistrusted strangers? There were aspects to this society he found distasteful.

Not this bread though. He stuffed another piece into his mouth. If Stella didn't rise soon she and the girl would miss out altogether. Not that either would complain. Now if it was him deprived of a meal everyone would hear about it.

'Stella,' he called.

Kilfor raised his head from his bowl, while Sauxa continued lapping at his porridge in the curious way he had.

'You want any bread?' Robal called again. 'Ask the girl, will you?'

No reply, which was odd. She was normally an early riser. Hardly needed sleep, in fact. Or, more truthfully, couldn't get it on account of that cursed man's blood in her veins. If he were ever to meet the Destroyer, he would pound the fiend into small lumps, preferably separated from each other by some distance, and then ask him some hard questions. Robal hated watching Stella suffer.