Banners of The Sa'yen, page 12
“Fadah, you say this is of the Ancient Kings? This is what the Charolarl Priest gave you?”
“Aye, Lord. This is what the priest said was the armor of the Ancient Kings.”
“And the old priest found this in the fortress of the Ancient Kings7”
“Aye, Lord, years before I joined him in his cavern up in the high crags of the Black Pillar Mountains. He told me he found this deep within the ancient fortress, in a pile of dust and bones.”
“And did the priest give you anything else, Fadah? Any other artifacts he claimed were of die Ancient Kings?”
“No, My Lord, he did not He said that only this I could have. Yet his cavern was filled with many strange things that were from the fortress. Things unknown to me, except that the Ancient Kings used them.”
“And you say this cavern of the old priest is where, Fadah?”
“Alas, My Lord, it is no more. It was once up in the highest crags of the Black Pillar Mountains. But on the night the priest died, he told me to pack my belongings and to take this gift and descend to the base of the mountain. I did as he bid, though reluctantly. It took me three whole days to make the journey down to the valley floor below. And when I finally reached the valley, I heard a roar of thunder from the mountain and, looking up, saw that a ball of white light had consumed the entire top of the mountain with fire and heat. Such a roar of noise, My Lord, I have never before heard. Then, after the explosion, only minutes later, a blast of searing heat threw me to the ground, burning my clothes from me, and the roar of the wind was such that Yab’lal and Kakla trees were uprooted and hurled for yards. So frightened was I, Lord, that I could not speak or eat for days afterward. The entire top of the mountain had been ripped to pieces. The cavern, the priest, the whole upper third of the mountain had completely disappeared, Lord. I could not believe what my eyes saw. Gone! All gone!”
Tallsus and Jamilia muttered disbelief at such a story, but the face of the Lord had not changed from that hard, determined look I knew so well. The Lord believed the armorer! The old man’s words were truth! I found myself gaping in wonderment What force could be so strong as to rip asunder an entire mountain? What power the Ancient Kings controlled I could not imagine. Yet the Lord knew of such and seemed unafraid! Licking my lips, for my mouth had turned suddenly dry with a vague form of dread, I waited for the Sa’yen to speak again.
“Did the priest tell you where die fortress was, Fadah?”
“No, My Lord. He gave no hint as to its whereabouts. I only assumed, without any real proof, that somewhere within or around the Black Pillar Mountains was the fortress. Yet I had no idea where.”
“He never took you to it?”
“No, Sire. He refused to even talk about it on most occasions. The priest, Sire, seemed to be holding a great secret back. Apd I had the impression that even he was fearful of the ghosts that inhabited the dead halls of the fortress.”
For some minutes the Sa’yen continued to watch the blinking lights of the gold-netted armor. On His face was a look of deep thought, of fierce determination, and somehow I had the feeling that the Lord was intimately familiar with the thing that draped the lifeless mannequin before us. Yet I said nothing. I continued to watch the Sa’yen’s face, waiting for Him to say something or to move. We all stood before the monstrous mannequin dressed in the gold net and blinking lights, our eyes on the Lord. Finally, after some minutes, the Lord tore his eyes away from the figure and looked at me. And I paled under his stare. For I knew what the Master wished to do. We would soon search for the dead fortress of the Ancient Kings! Yet I said nothing and waited for the Lord to speak first. He did so immediately.
“Magdar, how far are the Black Pillar Mountains by the fastest route?”
“I know of only one route, Lord. And that is through the high pass of the Hakad Mountains. And barring any intervention from the Hakadians, we could sail to the Black Pillars in seven, possibly eight, months.”
The Lord nodded, thought a moment, then turned to the ancient armorer. Smiling down at the toothless, wrinkled old man, He pulled from within the heavy cloak He had around His shoulders a large leather bag I knew was filled with double weighted gold coins. Taking the wrinkled, ancient hand of the armorer into His, He placed the bag into the old hand and firmly, yet gently, closed the old man’s fingers around the bag as he spoke to him.
“For the gifts you gave us, friend Fadah. And more importantly, for the information concerning the Ancient Kings. For that alone you should be paid double what I have given you!”
“But Sire! I do not ask payment from the Lord! I ana, even though bent with age and toothless, nevertheless a follower of the Sa’yen. I cannot take gold from my God!”
“Aye, but you can! Especially if I tell you to take it, eh?” The Lord grinned, turning and bowing to Jamilia and Tallsus. “And when, pretty lady, do you and my gunner plan to wed?”
“The night of the Feast of Flowers, Sire,” Jamilia answered in a quiet, soft voice.
“Ah, then on that night your wedding will be on the main deck of the Black Falcon! And after the wedding 1 shall throw a feast such as your eyes have never seen!”
“Thank you, My Lord!” Tallsus said, grinning hugely with the pleasure and honor of the Sa’yen’s gesture.
The Lord smiled and then moved to the door of the small room and disappeared. I quickly stepped up to Jamilia, took her hand and gently kissed it.
“To your happiness, lovely woman, May a thousand blessings of the Sa’yen fall upon you!”
“Thank you, friend of my husband and the exalted Left Hand of the Lord.”
I hurried out of the room in pursuit of the Lord. Tallsus lingered only a second or two and quickly joined us in the street in front of the armorer’s shop. For some seconds the Lord stroked His heavy beard with His hand, in deep thought. And then He turned to me quickly, His eyes hard and glittering with determination and purpose.
“We must obtain as much information as possible concerning the Ancient Kings. Pay gold for information, Magdar. Do not quibble over the price as long as the information is good and new to us. I must know all there is to know about the old ruins of the Ancient Kings, Mag-darl Can you do this for me?”
“Aye, Lord! It can be done. But the price might be high.”
“More than the treasure that is aboard the Black Falcon?’
“No, Lord! There is no way we will ever be able to spend that treasure in our lifetimes, Sire!”
“Then disregard what it will cost us, Magdar! I must find that fortress of the Ancient Kings! The key to my possibly being rescued may lie within the walls of that fortress. We must find it, Magdar! We must!”
And the Lord moved off into the crowded street scowling fiercely. One glance at Tallsus and I saw the puzzlement in his eyes as well. The Lord’s rescue? What did that mean? Frowning, I hurried to catch up with the Lord in the crowded street. With Tallsus flanking the other side of the Lord, we hurried through the streets of Triisus to return to tile Black Falcon.
VIII
A City Divided
A month passed and much gold was spent to buy every possible bit of information concerning the Ancient Kings. And with each passing day the crowds below the floating hull of the Black Falcon grew and grew. And Triisus, the jewel of the North, simmered into a hotbed of rumor and counter rumor concerning the Sa’yen. For the most part, the Lord stayed on board the Black Falcon while I separated the gold-seeking liars who knew nothing of the Ancient Kings from the few who did. And the gold from the dowry of the Hakadian Princess Saphid paid for other information as well. For to my ears came rumors that Bahir Kandar was forging an alliance with the Pictii within the city with the aim to crush the growing tide of followers of the Sa’yen. With the defeat of Thordak, the Captain of the Household Guards of the Kandar House, who was the most feared swordsman in the city, the populace had been growing more bold in their defiance of the Kandars. It was the Year of Kings for Triisus, when a new ruler for the city would be chosen from among the nobility by the people. Triisus, unlike other cities of Northern Hungar, preferred to elect kings on a five-year term from among the city’s many houses of nobility. The House of Kandar, being the largest and by far the most wealthy, had nominated Bahir Kandar to run for the throne. In an election year even Bahir Kandar, normally a figure who controlled and commanded unlimited power without regard to others, dared not antagonize the populace of the city if he cared to succeed in his bid for the throne. Yet, as the gold I paid freely to those who brought me accurate news informed me, the Lord posed to the House of Kandar and particularly to Bahir Kandar serious pitfalls to his winning the throne. For daily the crowd at the base of the landing tower of the Black Falcon grew as more came to join the ranks of the believers.
I feared for my Lord. He, in His golden-maned magnificence, did not appear concerned at the news I brought Him regarding the growing intrigues the House of Kandar was plotting against Him. The Lord was more concerned about what made the Sacred Stones act the way they did and with controlling the awesome power they possessed. And even that created dangers for Him. For the Pictii, the High Order of the brotherhood that controlled the market and sale of the Sacred Stones, heard of the Lord’s experiments on the Black Falcon and denounced Him as a defiler of the accepted order and a heretic. And as each day passed, the city I once loved so deeply began to divide its ranks clearly to be either for or against the Sa’yen.
And I knew not how to save the Lord from this imminent threat of destruction. I feared war would erupt within the city. I feared the rugged, gray-towered city of Triisus would be tom asunder in the ravages of a civil war. I could see the hostility growing among those who did not believe in the Lord. Daily I heard of clashes between believers and nonbelievers on the city’s darkest streets. Fierce clashes that made blood flow freely. Yet, no matter what tales I heard from reliable spies concerning the growing hostility to the Lord, and which I duly reported to Him, the Lord wished only to learn more about the Ancient Kings. And learn we did, thanks to the gold in the coffers of the Black Falcon’s hold. By piecing the bits and fragments of all that we heard of the Ancient Kings together, we eventually formed an overall picture of the true powers of the ancient race that roamed this planet far in our dim past. And a mighty race it was! The Ancient Kings, as we called them now, had only one government that ruled the entire planet, instead of each city ruling its own small kingdom as it was with us today. The Ancient Kings had power that was too immense to comprehend. That is, none of us on the Black Falcon could comprehend it except the Lord. He would sit in His favorite chair in His cabin, with the stem gallery windows open to the night’s cool breeze, listening to my daily account of what the gold had paid for, and He would nod silently, pulling thoughtfully on His beard as I talked. At times, long moments of silence would go by as He sat in His high-backed chair of finely carved Kakla wood and red leather upholstery, as He thought to Himself, with me standing in front of Him, waiting to see if He had any further orders for me. And the only sounds that would filter into my mind were the quiet, soothing sounds of the ship as she tugged and strained on her mooring ropes above the city; of wood creaking sofdy in the night breeze, of ropes rubbing against each other, of the slow, measured step of the crew above us on the quarterdeck as they made their rounds. Sometimes, with the stem windows thrown open, the smell of an approaching fall thunderstorm drifted in with a stout breeze and to me, the aromatic odor was pleasing to sniff. Yet such pleasures would be interrupted as soon as the Master came out of his reverie and cleared His throat to speak to me. He had, in the last few weeks after the defeat of Thordak, the paid killer in the employ of Bahir Kan-dar, become more reclusive. Rarely did He venture from the deck of the Black Falcon. And, after examining the armor once worn by the Ancient Kings themselves, the Lord became even more ill at ease. In vain would I attempt to pry out whatever it was that had soured His heart All that I accomplished was to seal more resolutely His silence about His burden. With a growing feeling of despair in my heart I did as my Lord bid me. I sought information concerning the Ancient Kings and recorded all that was brought before me and covertly paid equally as well for news that might affect the Lord in any fashion. It was while seeking word about the Ancient Kings that I first heard news concerning the mysterious Charolarl Priest we had encountered in the inn.
It was late in the Thieves’ Watch, just before sunrise, and I was lying in my bunk restless and without sleep. The ship hobbled and dipped as she floated above the city, a desire running through her hull to escape into the clouds and flee with the wind. I could hear the hum of the wind through the rigging and feel the keel-masts vibrating with a lust for freedom that grew as the wind increased. The ship’s whispering desire to escape was affecting me, and I was eager to leave a city filled with rumors, filled with excitement as well as hatred; and lastly, filled with a religious fervor that I found most threatening of alL Lying in my bunk, with the sword the old armorer had given to me lying in its scabbard on the chair close to me, I lay staring up at the cabin’s ceiling without thinking. My body was attuned to the sounds of the ship, and I was trying desperately not to think of my fear that the Lord had no regard for what His presence was doing to the city of Triisus. Yet I heard the watch officer shout out a warning and heard dimly a reply. I heard feet run across the poop deck and another voice ring of it into the windblown night. Aroused, I swung my feet off the bunk and quickly slipped into my heavy boots. More feet were running to the port side of the ship, and as I threw the stout leather belt over my shoulder which held the sword close to me, a knock impatiently sounded on my cabin door. I opened it and found the wide, sour face of Fidor looking at me, his eyes filled with a concern that made me uneasy.
“Magdar, one of your informers has been brought aboard gravely wounded. He will not live to see the sunrise. He says he has information of the greatest importance for you, and will not talk to anyone but you!”
“Where is he now?”
“I have him under the stem canopy. He has been stabbed several times, Magdar. I doubt that he’ll even be alive by the time you reach deck!”
“Then let us hurry!”
“Shall I arouse the Sa’yen?”
“No! The Master needs His rest first! Let us see what this rogue has to say before we disturb Him.”
“Aye!”
With Fidor following, I hurried up to the stem of the ship and stepped out into a wild night of a windblown sky filled with clouds scudding across a large full moon. Under the brightly striped canvas we had spread above the stem to give shade in the day to the helm and watch, I saw a large group of the crew standing beside a figure lying on the deck. Pushing my way through the crowd, I told the men to return to their duties, and then knelt down beside the dying figure. He was a street urchin, a beggar that I had bought for a few silver coins as a source of information within the city—for information not of the Ancient Kings but of the comings and goings of the political factions within the city’s wall. I held no faith in the House of Kandar, nor of many other houses of the nobility within the city. And I certainly placed no faith in the Brotherhood of the Pictii. Kneeling beside the man, with Fidor standing behind me, I took the outstretched, bony hand extended to me and held it firmly. The beggar, dressed in perhaps the dirtiest rags of the foulest smell and grime I had ever experienced, lay on the polished deck of the ship, bleeding profusely. He had only minutes to live, and as I watched, he tried to whisper to me.
“The…priest! Charolarl…priest! He, he is to be…be arrested by agents of Bahir…Kandar. The…priest has been…asking…questions concerning the Master! He seeks out the Master’s…armorer! You must…go…now…”
“Why does Bahir Kandar want the priest, beggar? Do you know the answer to that? Quickly, speak!”
“Hakadians! Golden…ships. Hundreds of…them. The priest…somehow…saw hundreds of ships…of the Hakadians. You must go to the shop of Fadah…save…the priest!”
Thin fingers squeezed my hand in a vise of pain and then suddenly relaxed and finally slipped from my grip altogether. The beggar let out a soft sigh and died on the deck of the Black Falcon in the midst of many strangers. Coming to my feet, I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Looking out across the brightly lit city, I thought over the words the beggar had gasped with a frown etched across my lips. Hakadian golden-hulls and Bahir Kandar! So the words of Hakba Baru were right! The House of Kandar was in league with the Hakadians. But how did this mysterious Charolarl Priest come to know this? And why was he eager to speak to Fadah the Armorer? I did not like the possibilities that came to mind with the priest involving the old armorer and his granddaughter, and quickly I knew what I had to do.
