The Hidden City

  ‘We’ll go down a bit now,’ Aphrael warned. ‘I’ll take a bearing on Delo, and then we’ll swerve toward the southwest to reach Natayos.’

  ‘Will we not be seen from the ground?’ Xanetia asked.

  ‘No – although it’s an interesting idea. Your light would definitely startle people. Whole new religions could be born if people on the ground started seeing angels flying over their heads. There’s Delo.’

  The port city looked like a child’s toy carelessly left on the shore of the deep blue Tamul Sea. They veered to the southwest, following the coastline and gradually descending.

  Aphrael was peering intently down at the jungle rushing back beneath them. ‘There,’ she said triumphantly.

  The ruin might have been more difficult to find had not the northern quarter been cleared of the brush and trees which covered the rest of the ancient city. The tumbled grey stones of the half-fallen buildings stood out sharply in the light of the sunrise, and the newly cleared road stretching toward the north was a yellow scar cut deeply into the face of the dark green of the jungle.

  They settled gently to earth on the road about a quarter of a mile north of the ruins, and Sparhawk immediately led them back a hundred paces into the thick undergrowth. He was tense with excitement. If Kalten was right, he was less than a mile from the place where Ehlana was being held captive.

  ‘Go ahead, Xanetia,’ Aphrael suggested. ‘I want to look you over before you go into the city. This is important, but I don’t want to put you in any danger. Let’s be sure nobody can see you.’

  ‘Thou art overly concerned, Divine One. Over the centuries, we of the Delphae have perfected this particular subterfuge.’ She straightened, and her face assumed an expression of almost unnatural calm. Her form seemed to shimmer, and little rainbow flickers of light seethed beneath her plain homespun robe. She blurred and wavered, her form becoming indistinct.

  Then she was only an outline, and Sparhawk could clearly see the trunk of the tree behind her.

  ‘How do you make the things on the other side of you visible?’ Aphrael asked curiously.

  ‘We bend the light, Divine One. That is at the core of this deception. The light flows around us like a swift-moving stream, carrying with it the images of such objects as our bodies would normally obscure.’

  ‘Very interesting,’ Aphrael mused. I hadn’t even thought of that possibility.’

  ‘We must be wary, however,’ Xanetia told the Goddess. ‘Our shadows, like telltale ghosts, can betray us.’

  ‘That’s simple. Stay out of the sunlight.’

  Sparhawk concealed a faint smile. Even a Goddess could give blatantly obvious instructions sometimes.

  ‘I shall most carefully adhere to thine advice, Divine One,’ Xanetia replied with an absolutely straight face.

  ‘You’re making fun of me, aren’t you, Xanetia?’

  ‘Of course not, Divine Aphrael.’ Even the outline was gone now, and Xanetia’s voice seemed to come out of nowhere. ‘To work, withal,’ she said, her sourceless voice receding in the direction of the road. I shall return anon.’

  ‘I’ll have to compliment Edaemus,’ Aphrael said. ‘That’s a very clever means of concealment. Turn around, Sparhawk. I’m going to change back.’

  After the Child Goddess had resumed the familiar form of Flute, she and Sparhawk made themselves comfortable and waited as the sun gradually rose. The jungle steamed, and the air was alive with the chattering of birds and the buzzing of insects. The moments seemed to drag. They were so close to Ehlana that Sparhawk almost imagined that he could smell her familiar fragrance. ‘Are Ulath and Tynian here yet?’ he asked, more to get his mind away from his anxious concern than out of any real curiosity.

  ‘Probably,’ Flute replied. ‘They set out from Arjun yesterday morning. It might have seemed like three weeks to them, but it was no more than a heartbeat for everybody else.’

  ‘I wonder if they stayed in No-Time or just merged into Scarpa’s army.’

  ‘It’s hard to say. Maybe I should have checked before Xanetia left.’

  Then they heard several men talking on the road. Sparhawk crept closer, with Aphrael just behind him.

  ‘Because I don’t trust these soldiers, Col,’ a rough-looking fellow was saying to a blond Elene.

  ‘It’s daytime, Senga. Nobody’s going to ambush your beer wagons in broad daylight.’

  ‘You can’t be too careful. Money’s running short here in Natayos, and that beer’s the life-blood of my business. A thirsty man who’s running short of money might do anything.’

  ‘Have you considered lowering your prices?’ an evil-looking fellow with a black eye-patch asked.

  ‘Bite your tongue, Shallag,’ Senga replied.

  ‘Just a suggestion,’ the patch-eyed man shrugged.

  The dozen or so heavily armed men moved on out of earshot.

  ‘You recognized them, of course,’ Aphrael murmured to Sparhawk.

  ‘Kalten and Bevier, yes. I didn’t see Caalador, though,’ He thought for a moment. ‘Will you be all right here? Alone, I mean?’

  ‘Well, it’s awfully dangerous, Sparhawk – lions and tigers and bears, you know.’

  ‘It was a silly question, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I’d say so, yes. What have you got in mind?’

  ‘Kalten and Bevier are obviously working for that fellow they called Senga. I think I can get them to vouch for me. They seem to have the run of Natayos, so hiring on as a beer-guard would give me a way to get into the city without attracting attention.’

  ‘Will you be able to restrain yourself when you’re that close to Mother?’

  Im not going to do anything foolish, Aphrael.’

  ‘Well, I suppose it’s all right. You have my permission.’

  ‘Oh, thank you, Divine Aphrael,’ he said. Thank you, thank you, thank you.’

  ‘You have a very clever mouth, Sparhawk,’ she said tartly.

  ‘It’s probably the clever company I’ve been keeping lately,’ he shrugged.

  ‘I have to run back to Sarna for a little while,’ Aphrael told him. ‘Try to stay out of trouble when you get into the city.’

  ‘I’ll miss you desperately.’ He grinned.

  ‘You’re in an odd humor today.’

  ‘I feel good. If all goes well, I’ll have your mother out of there before the sun goes down.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  They waited as the sun crept further up in the eastern sky. Then from off to the north they heard the approach of several heavily laden wagons. ‘I’ll keep you posted,’ Sparhawk promised, and he stepped out of the bushes to stand at the side of the muddy road.

  The first wagon, drawn by four patient oxen, came creaking around a bend. The wagon-bed was piled high with barrels, and the one known as Senga sat on the seat beside the villainous-looking driver. Kalten, his expression oddly familiar on his altered face, was perched on top of the barrels.

  ‘Ho, Col,’ Sparhawk called from the roadside. ‘I thought I recognized your voice when you passed here a little while ago.’

  ‘Well, strike me blind if it isn’t Fron!’ Kalten exclaimed with a broad grin. Sparhawk suddenly wondered what might have happened if Kalten hadn’t recognized him. Kalten was laughing now with genuine delight. ‘We all thought you’d run away to sea when things came apart on us back in Matherion.’

  ‘It didn’t work out,’ Sparhawk shrugged. ‘There was a bo’sun on board who was a little too free with his whip. He decided to swim for shore one dark night. I can’t imagine what came over him. We were twenty leagues out to sea when I helped him over the side.’

  ‘People do strange things sometimes. What are you doing here?’

  ‘I heard about this army, and I thought it might be a good place to hide. Word’s going about that this Scarpa fellow plans to attack Matherion. I’ve got a few old scores to settle there, so I decided to tag along for fun and profit.’

  ‘I think we can find a better spot for you than back
in the rear ranks of Scarpa’s army.’ Kalten nudged Senga’s shoulder with his foot. ‘The fellow standing ankle-deep in the mud there is an old friend of ours from Matherion,’ he told the tavern-keeper. ‘His name’s Fron, and he’s a very good man in a fight. When the police jumped on us back in Matherion, he stood shoulder to shoulder with Shallag, holding them off while the rest of us got away. Do you think there might be a spot for him in your operation here in Natayos?’

  ‘Do you vouch for him, Col?’ Senga asked.

  ‘I couldn’t ask for better help if trouble crops up.’

  ‘You’re in charge of security,’ Senga shrugged. ‘Hire anybody you want.’

  ‘I was hoping you’d see it that way.’ Kalten beckoned to Sparhawk. ‘Climb on up, Fron,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you the wonders of Natayos.’

  ‘From the top of a beer wagon?’

  ‘Can you think of a better place?’

  Chapter 19

  Kring arrived in Sarna late in the afternoon of the same day in which Aphrael had transported Sephrenia and the others there from Dirgis. Mirtai calmly went down into the courtyard of the Atan garrison to meet her bandy-legged betrothed. The two of them embraced rather formally and then came into the building.

  ‘She seems very restrained,’ Vanion observed quietly to Betuana as the two watched from the window of the conference room.

  ‘It is not seemly to openly display affection in public, Vanion-Preceptor,’ the Queen replied. ‘Decorum must be maintained, even though the heart might prefer it otherwise.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Ho, friend Vanion!’ Kring said as he and his tall beloved entered. ‘You’re just the man I was looking for.’

  ‘It’s good to see you, too, friend Kring. How are things going in Samar?’

  ‘It’s quiet. The Cynesgans have pulled back from the border. Is there something going on to the south that I haven’t been told about?’

  ‘Not that I know of. Why do you ask?’

  ‘The Cynesgans were massing just across the border, and we were expecting them to come across to lay siege to Samar almost any time. Then several days ago they pulled back and left only a few units in place. The rest of their army marched south.’

  ‘Why would they do that?’ Vanion asked, frowning.

  ‘Probably to meet the Church Knights,’ Aphrael replied.

  Vanion turned to see the Child Goddess calmly sitting in her usual place on Sephrenia’s lap. She had not been there a moment before. There was no point to making an issue of it. Aphrael would never change. The Church Knights aren’t coming from that direction, Divine One,’ he said.

  ‘We know that, Vanion,’ she replied, ‘but Stragen and Talen have been busy in Beresa. They’ve managed to convince the Dacite spy that there’s a huge fleet of ships flying Church flags knocking about in the Gulf of Daconia. Evidently the Dacite passed the word on, and the Cynesgan High Command took it seriously enough to send their main force south to defend southern Cynesga.’

  ‘But they know that the Church Knights are coming overland through Astel.’

  They know about that force, Lord Vanion,’ Itagne said, ‘but they must have been convinced that there’s another coming by sea.’

  There aren’t that many of us, Itagne.’

  ‘You and I know that, Lord Vanion, but it’s generally believed here in Tamuli that there are at least a million of you fellows. The term “Church Knights” conjures up visions of armies stretching from horizon to horizon.’

  Vanion frowned. ‘Oh,’ he said finally. I think I understand. During the Zemoch wars, we joined forces with the armies of the kings of Eosia. The Tamul observers must have thought that everyone in armor was a Church Knight.’

  ‘I think I’ll have a talk with the Emperor,’ Itagne mused. ‘Titles of nobility might be in order for your pair of thieves. This imaginary fleet of theirs seems to have pulled half the Cynesgan army off the border and most likely pinned down the Arjunis as well.’

  ‘It’s a great little fleet,’ Vanion grinned, ‘and you don’t even have to feed the sailors. Let’s keep the stories alive.’ He looked at Aphrael. ‘Could you arrange some illusions, Divine One?’

  ‘Dragons? Flights of angels?’

  ‘How about a thousand ships hull-down on the horizon instead?’

  ‘What do I get in return?’

  ‘Stop teasing,’ Sephrenia told her with a gentle smile.

  ‘Where would you like your make-believe boats, Vanion?’

  He thought about it. ‘Why don’t you just bounce them up and down the coastline of Daconia and western Arjuna?’ he suggested. ‘Let’s run the Cynesgans and Arjunis ragged trying to position themselves to defend against landings.’

  ‘I’ll go take care of it right now,’ she said, slipping down from her sister’s lap, ‘before I forget.’

  ‘When did you ever forget anything?’ Sephrenia smiled.

  ‘I don’t know. I must have at some time, though. I’ve probably forgotten exactly when.’ She gave them all an impish little smile, and then she vanished.

  Kring was sitting at Mirtai’s side, and he had been squinting speculatively at the ceiling, absently running one hand over his stubbled scalp. He was not free to use the other, since Mirtai had taken possession of it. Her contented, almost placid, expression clearly said that she did not intend to release his hand in the foreseeable future.

  ‘If Divine Aphrael can keep those Cynesgan troops more or less permanently distracted, Tikume and I’ll be able to hold Samar without any help,’ the Domi said, ‘particularly now that we know how to deal with Klæl’s soldiers.’ He rubbed even more briskly at his scalp.

  ‘Quit worrying at it,’ Mirtai told him. ‘I’ll shave you just as soon as we finish here.’

  ‘Yes, love,’ he agreed immediately.

  ‘Oh, that reminds me,’ Vanion said. ‘Sparhawk had a talk with Bhelliom. Klæl’s soldiers can only breathe our air for about a day before they start dying, and exertion speeds up the process. If you come across them again, keep them running.’

  Kring nodded.

  A tall Atan came in and murmured something to Itagne.

  ‘I’m really awfully busy right now, old boy,’ Itagne objected.

  ‘He’s most insistent, Itagne-Ambassador.’

  ‘Oh, very well.’ Itagne rose to his feet. ‘I’ll be right back, Lord Vanion,’ he said and followed the Atan from the room.

  ‘Did Sparhawk find out what country Klæl’s soldiers come from, friend Vanion?’ Kring asked. ‘I’d sort of like to avoid that place.’

  ‘I don’t think you need to worry, Domi Kring.’ Sephrenia smiled. ‘Klæl’s soldiers were brought here from someplace beyond the stars.’

  Kring frowned. ‘You might want to have a talk with Sparhawk, friend Vanion,’ he said. ‘I enjoy a good fight as much as the next man, but if he’s going to declare war on the whole universe, he ought to let the rest of us in on his plans.’

  ‘I’ll definitely speak with him about it, Domi Kring,’ Vanion said. Then he sighed. ‘I wish we’d known more about Klæl’s soldiers earlier. The Church Knights encountered them in the mountains of Zemoch and lost half their number in killed and wounded.’

  ‘I’m sorry, friend Vanion. Did you lose many old comrades?’

  ‘Many, Domi Kring,’ Vanion replied sadly, ‘many.’

  ‘How’s friend Engessa coming along?’ Kring asked Betuana.

  ‘Aphrael says that he’s recovering, Domi,’ she replied. ‘I’d like to see that for myself, though.’

  Itagne returned, accompanied by a Tamul wearing slightly out-of-date clothing. ‘Would you please see to it that we’re not disturbed?’ he said to the Atan guard in the hall. Then he closed and bolted the door. ‘I have some good news for a change,’ he said then. He put his hand on the stranger’s shoulder. ‘This is my very dear – though new-found friend, Ekrasios,’ he said.

  Betuana frowned. ‘That is not a Tamul name,’ she said.

  ‘No, your Majest
y,’ Itagne agreed, ‘it’s not. Actually, it’s Delphaeic. The Delphae are such a musical people. It probably derives from the fact that they still speak classical Tamul. My friend here just stopped by to advise us that the Delphae have decided to come out of their splendid seclusion. Ekrasios, this is Preceptor Vanion, the close friend of Anakha. The regal lady is Betuana, Queen of the Atans. The short fellow is Domi Kring of the western Peloi. The tall, pretty girl with the death-grip on his hand is Mirtai, his betrothed, and the exquisite Styric lady is Sephrenia, High Priestess of the Goddess Aphrael.’

  ‘Nobles all,’ Ekrasios greeted them with a formal bow. ‘I bring greetings from Beloved Edaemus. Divine Aphrael hath persuaded him that we have common cause in the current situation, and he hath thus relaxed his centuries-old prohibition upon us. I am sent to thee, Lord Vanion, to advise thee that I and diverse companions are at thine immediate disposal. Where might we best be deployed to further our cause?’

  ‘If I may, Lord Vanion?’ Itagne interposed. ‘It just occurred to me that the Delphae might be best suited to empty those ruins in the Arjuni jungles. If Ekrasios and his friends were to appear in all their glowing splendor at the gates of Scarpa’s camps down there, the rebels would probably go back home and take up peaceful pursuits, just as fast as they possibly could.’

  ‘Well said,’ Mirtai murmured her agreement.

  ‘He certainly moves around, doesn’t he?’ Ulath said to Tynian as the beer wagon with Sparhawk and Kalten perched atop the barrels rumbled past on the ancient street. ‘Last I heard, he was in Dirgis.’

  ‘The natcherl rules don’t seem t’ apply t’ ol’ Spor-hawk,’ Tynian replied in a bad imitation of Caalador’s dialect. ‘What do you think? Should we slip back into real time? Or should we stay where we are?’

  ‘I think we’ll be more useful if we stay out of sight,’ Ulath replied.

  ‘That’s fine with me, but how are we going to get word to Sparhawk and the others that we’re here?’

  ‘I’ll slip a note in his pocket – or blow in his ear.’

  ‘That ought to get his attention.’