All ordinary thought disappeared in the skull-thunder that followed.
"WELCOME, MORTALS-AH, AND ONE OF THE HIGH ONES, TOO, I SEE. WELCOME TO THE UNDERWORLD. I PROMISE I WILL GIVE YOU A USEFUL DEATH, AND AFTERWARD I MAY EVEN SHOW YOU THE MATCHLESS HONOR OF WEARING YOUR SMALL BUT SHAPELY HEADS!"
18
Questions with No Answers
So then in that great battle matchless Nushash at last pulled the sun itself
down from the sky and hurled it full into the face of Zhafaris, the old
Emperor Twilight, whose beard caught fire. He was burned into ashes, and
that, my children, was the end of his evil rule.
Nushash and his brother Xosh scattered the ashes in the desert of Night.
Then, in his generosity, Nushash invited his three half brothers to join him
in building a new city of the gods on Mount Xandos. Argal the Thunderer
and the others thanked him and swore fealty, but already they were
planning to betray him and take the throne of the gods for themselves.
— from The Revelations of Nushash, Book One
ALTHOUGH SHE COULD NOT HAVE SAID exactly why,
Pelaya found herself spending more time in the garden than had been her habit, even on days like today when the weather was less than ideal, with heavy gray skies and a biting wind from the sea. It was partly because her father Count Perivos had been so busy lately, busier than she'd ever seen him, with no time at all to give to his children. Sometimes he stayed so late examining the city's defenses that he even slept in the Documents Chamber and only came home to change his clothes. But much of her interest in the garden was simply her interest in the prisoner Olin-King Olin, however he might mockingly disclaim his title. On the occasions that he and Pelaya met each other she always enjoyed talking to
him, although it was never quite as strange and exciting'as-it had been the first time, when he had been a complete stranger and her companions had watched with horror as she introduced herself to him, as though she had decided to leap off the city walls and swim to Xand.
Still, she enjoyed the grown-up way their conversations made her feel, and he seemed to enjoy them too, although he was always disappointed by how little news she could give him about his homeland. She knew that one of his sons had died, and his daughter and other son were missing, and that his country was in some kind of war. Sometimes when Olin spoke about his children he seemed to be hiding feelings so strong that it seemed he would burst into tears, but then only moments later he would be so coldly composed she wondered if she had imagined it. He was a strange man even for a king, very changeable, unfailingly polite but sometimes a little fright¬ening to a girl like Pelaya, whose own father was, for all his intelligence, a simpler sort of man. She sometimes thought Olin Eddon's true feelings were as painfully imprisoned as he was himself.
He was not allowed into the garden very often, only a few days in every tennight. Pelaya thought that unkind of the Lord Protector. She wondered if she dared speak to her father about it-he was steward of the entire stronghold, after all-but although there was nothing illicit in the friend¬ship with the northern king, she didn't want to draw attention to it. Count Perivos was a serious man; he didn't think much of things that had no pur¬pose and she doubted he'd ever understand the harmless attraction Olin's company held for her. Her father had doubtless heard something about the odd friendship, but so far he hadn't said anything to her about it, perhaps reassured by Teloni, who had decided the whole thing was a boring lark of Pelaya's and had stopped fussing at her about it. It was probably best to leave things that way, Pelaya decided, and not tempt the gods.
She was pleased to find that King Olin was out in the garden today, looking across the walls from atop a jutting ornamental stone not far from the bench, the one place a person could climb high enough see between the towers of the stronghold over all the Kulloan Strait. He sat cross-legged on the stone with his chin propped on his hands, more like a boy than a grown man, let alone a monarch. She stood by the base of the stone wait¬ing for him to realize she was there.
"Ah, good Mistress Akuanis," he said with a smile. "You honor me with your company again. I was just sitting here wondering if a man could fashion wings like a gull's out of wood ami leathers, perhaps, although I sus pec t each feather would have to be tied in place separately, which would make lor a great deal of work-and so fly like a bird."
She frowned. "Why would someone want to do that?"
"Why?" He smiled. "I suppose the freedom of a gull on the wind has more meaning to me just now than to you." He clambered down, landing lightly. "I muse, only-I see the birds fly and my mind begins to wander. I beg you not to tell your father of my interest in flight. I might lose the gift of this time in the garden."
"I wouldn't do that," she said earnestly.
"Ah. You are kind." He nodded, the subject concluded. "And how are you today, Mistress? Have the gods treated you well since I saw you last?"
"Well enough, I suppose. My tutor sets me the dreariest lessons you can imagine, and I will never, never be a seamstress, no matter how many years I try. Mother says my needlework looks like the web of a drunken spider."
He chuckled. "Your mother sounds like a clever woman. That is not the first thing she has said that made me laugh. Perhaps that is where you come by your own wit and curiosity."
"Me?" All she could think of were the lessons that Brother Lysas taught, reading at length from The Book of the Trigon, "… Beloved of the gods are the daughters and wives who make themselves humble, who seek only to serve Heaven…" "I'm not curious, am I?"
He smiled again. "Child, you are a fountain of questions. It is often all I can do not to unpack the entirety of my life and let you rifle through it like a trunk of clothes."
"You must think I'm annoying, then. A child who cannot be still." She hung her head.
"Not at all. Curiosity is a virtue. So is discretion, but that is usually learned at a later age. In fact, take your shawl-it is a bit cool-while I ask you something about that very subject." He handed her the delicate Syan-nese cloth, but did not immediately let go. She was surprised, and started to say something. "Take it but do not unfold it," he said quietly. "I have put a letter in it. Do not fear! It is nothing criminal. In fact, it is a letter for your own father. Give it to him, please?"
She took the shawl from him and felt the small, angular shape of the let¬ter. "What… what is it?"
"As I said, nothing to fear. Some thoughts of mine about the danger of this threatened siege by the Autarch of Xis-yes, I have heard the rumors.
I would have to be deaf not to. In any case, he may do as he wishes with my suggestions."
"But why?" She put the folded shawl in her lap. "Why would you help us when we're holding you prisoner?"
Olin smiled as if through something painful. "First, I am at risk also, of course. Second, we are all natural allies against the autarch, whatever Drakava may think, and I believe your father would recognize that. Last- well, it would not hurt to have a man like your father think well of me."
Pelaya felt quite out of breath. A secret letter! Like something from one of the old tales of Silas or Lander Elfbane. "I will do it, if you promise there is no dishonor."
He bowed his head. "I promise, good mistress."
They talked a little while longer about less consequential things like her younger brother's wretched temper or the dragging negotiations for Teloni's marriage to a young nobleman from the country north of the city. This pained Pelaya because her father had said he would not find a husband for his younger daughter until the oldest was married, and she was anxious to be a grown woman, with a household of her own.