Later, we had to pay our respects to the patrons. Warmed by their adoration, I feigned disinterest; it was what they expected, of course, and in keeping with my public persona. Really, I adore the humans, for all their weaknesses. They have an immediacy, a vivacity lacking in eloim-kind; their brutish enthusiasms are endearing.
I was surprised by the presence of the soulscapers. Doubtless guests of some patron family, they intruded upon this complicit gathering like harsh rays. Naturally, precautions are always taken at these functions; it is taken as fact that unsupped will be present at times, but I was still unnerved. Beth noticed them first, relaying to me a mind-line they were passing to each other. In an instant, my surprise was enriched by alarm. It was our girl, our little seed! I had been so engrossed preparing for The Thorn Path’s debut; I had neglected to keep abreast of her development for some months now. What was she doing there? What immeasurable convolution of fate had brought her to our city before time? For a moment, I feared Avirzah’e, or one of his kin, had divined her identity and was attempting to interfere in some way, perhaps planning to damage our work in its early stages. After a quick investigation, I realised this was not so, thankfully. It surprised me that the soulscapers could communicate in that manner without their special drugs, however, and made me wonder in what other ways I might have underestimated them. An enquiry to a nearby patron established the girl was in Sacramante with her mother, who had a commission with the Tricantes. It was because of the son, Salyon; he who was flamed. I doubted whether the soulscaper, however puissant her ability, could heal him. He had been weak since childhood, prone to melancholy, and had withered at the first sup, or so I had heard. One of the Sarim throng had had him; perhaps someone too eager. My friend Hadith had not touched him, for which she was grateful. A tainted fruit; he should be allowed to rot in peace. However...
Once we returned to the courts, I was tempted, in some way, to make myself known to the girl, but Beth advised against this. ‘There is no point, Gimel. Let her be. We must wait for the time when she’s mature enough to take on the role we have created for her. If we intervene before that time, we could ruin everything.’
Reluctantly, I had to agree with him, although I longed to visit her in her maiden’s room at the Carmen Tricante; I longed to speak with her. I had not observed her for several months, and look what had happened! I vowed to be more vigilant. How fragile she had appeared, so breakable, in her borrowed finery and painted child’s face. It seemed inconceivable she would be strong enough to mature, in this world of so many perils.
Knowing what we did of soulscaper training, we hadn’t thought Rayojini would leave the mountain until she was much older. Perhaps her mother liked company on the road.
Morning brought fury to my door in several forms. First, Beth presented himself in my chamber alone. I welcomed him to my bed and let him curl up against me. He smelled rather strange. ‘Have you just supped?’ I asked him.
He shook his head. ‘No, but I projected myself to the soulscaper last night.’
‘What?’ I pushed him away from me angrily. ‘Why? You told me not to contact her!’
He smiled. ‘Exactly. Told you not to. I felt I needed to quicken the link we have with her.’
‘What did you do? Did you feed?’
‘No, no. It was all subjective, as I said. I granted her an experience she will never forget.’
I was relieved, realising I would have felt absurdly jealous had Beth actually tasted the girl.
‘She’ll think it was a dream,’ Beth said casually. ‘I was careful.’
‘I still think it was most rude of you to do this alone,’ I said, ‘especially after what you said to me about leaving her be.’
‘Gimel, Gimel,’ Beth soothed, stroking my hair. ‘There are just some things I have to do alone; you know that. It is a complex thread we weave. Anyway, you will find it easier to influence her now. Now she has seen us, touched me, we can only be more real to her. The guardian-pursuers, such as we are, have been called from sleep.’
Although I agreed with much of what he said, I was still annoyed with him. Beth has this wayward streak, which sometimes prompts him to act independently and rather wilfully. Being, as he is, such a sensual creature, I realised he needed to establish himself with Rayojini in his own way. I hoped she had not been too unnerved by the experience but, as Beth is a gentle lover, I was sure he’d been kind to her.
After I’d dressed, and Tamaris had brought me a hot drink of bloodied milk, a servitor had arrived, from the family stronghold. Metatron had summoned me. Cursing, I ordered Tamaris to organise transport for me. I had wanted to spend the day refining my part; after the first performance, there were one or two details that I thought needed attention. Now, Metatron would undoubtedly keep me waiting around at the stronghold all day.
I was not incorrect in my assumptions. Upon my arrival at the family home, I was shown into one of the music rooms, where an aunt played me a few tunes on her harmonium. Patient at first, my forbearance eventually wore out, and I was forced to interrupt my aunt’s recital in order to demand where Metatron was. At that point, he sailed into the room, trailing the usual clutch of lesser relatives, who arranged themselves on the available seating like courtesans, or a flock of carrion birds, and watched me carefully.
‘Am I to be given a public audience then?’ I enquired; an improper remark, but I was really quite exasperated.
‘Forgive me, honoured daughter,’ Metatron replied, with a bow, ‘but I was under the impression you are far from eager to be alone with me nowadays.’
I was aghast he could speak to me like that in front of others, and could not think of a suitable response. ‘I have been summoned here for a reason?’
He smiled at my lack of wit. ‘Naturally. I only summon you under the most pressing circumstances.’
‘Circumstances of which I am unaware. Please, enlighten me.’
Informally, he sat down beside me, and I steeled myself not to flinch away. ‘Gimel, I respect your strength, and your good sense,’ he said, ‘but I really must protest, in the most emphatic terms, about this business you have involved yourself in.’
‘And which business is this?’
He was still smiling. ‘The Tartaruchi abomination.’
‘Abomination? I understood the news-sheet reviews were rather complimentary this morning.’
‘Don’t be facetious.’
‘Metatron, you made your displeasure known to me before rehearsals started, and Lady Tatriel delivered my response. I cannot understand why you have left it until now to pursue the matter, if it causes you such concern.’
‘It is not just the play.’ His smile had faded. I had a horrible suspicion the time for games was over; he looked very serious, and not at all mocking.
‘What is it then?’
He sighed. ‘Gimel, it’s Beth I worry for. He is still very dear to me, as you are too, but he does not have your... constitution.’
‘I would be grateful if you’d get to the point, Metatron.’
‘Avirzah’e Tartaruchi,’ he said, the name laden with meaning. ‘Gimel, as you know, at the direction of the Parzupheim, I maintain a watch over the deeper currents of our society. There are signs that the Tartaruch is... acting unwisely.’
‘You refer, of course, to the content of the play. It’s harmless enough. I made sure of that.’
‘I’m sure you did. But his activities extend beyond play writing. Far beyond.’
I lowered my voice. ‘Are you sure we should be discussing this here?’
He glanced at our relatives, all of whom appeared to be ignoring our conversation, which must have meant they were listening intently. ‘You are right,’ he said. ‘I will send them away, if you do not object to our being alone together.’
I made a dismissive gesture, keeping remarks about being able to look after myself unvoiced.
Metatron cleared the room, the relatives looking distinctly crestfallen as they departed.
‘Well?’ I said.
‘You remember the throng-gathering when you returned from Taparak?’
I nodded.
‘Cast your mind back to Avirzah’e’s little speech upon that occasion. I will be blunt, Gimel; I suspect he has taken matters into his own hands.’
I could not repress the laugh that came instinctively in response. ‘Metatron, I cannot believe what you have just said! Avirzah’e is a dandy, a libertine. He is not a dark-monger; it would require too much effort.’
‘I am saddened he deludes you so easily,’ Metatron replied, without taking offence. ‘Look at him, Gimel! He will not be disciplined, and many of his kind support him. Remember his words in the Castile when you reported to the Parzupheim. I suspect that the younger element of Tartaruchi are now taking matters into their own hands.’
‘What evidence do you have?’
‘Very little. They cover their tracks well, and I doubt whether their activities will become overt for some time to come.’
‘What activities?’
‘The old way, Gimel, the old way.’
I was stunned. ‘You’re not suggesting they...’
The words just would not come. I could not even bear to think of the ‘old way’ yet alone speak of it, not just because of natural distaste, but because of actions of my own in the past, for which I was still ashamed.
‘Yes. Someone is contravening the honourable codem which forbids the taking of sustenance from unwilling victims,’ Metatron said, voicing what I could not bring myself to say.
A painful twinge of guilt wriggled through me, which I dreaded might be evident on my face. For a moment, I wondered whether Metatron had guessed the methods Beth and I had resorted to in Lansaal. ‘I still want to know what evidence you have to support this!’ I said, averting my eyes from Metatron’s gaze. Was it possible he had summoned me here to confront me with what he knew about my treatment of the soulscapers? I was so frightened, I could barely breathe.
Metatron merely shrugged. ‘The patrons, as you know, monitor events abroad. Something, which we have foolishly thought to be a disease or a hysterical condition of humans, is increasing in incidence. I refer, of course, to the condition they refer to as the Holy Death.’
There was no hint in his manner that he was about to accuse me. Relaxing a little, I frowned in perplexity. ‘I am unfamiliar with that term.’ In retrospect, I knew very little of human society beyond Sacramante.
Metatron did not expand on his remark at first. ‘We are not the only ones concerned about the sickness among the eloim. Our patrons are also trying to investigate what might be causing it, and have instructed their agents to be more vigilant. The activities of these agents were confined to Bochanegra to begin with - no one imagined the cause of the sickness would be discovered outside the country. Then a female agent travelling in Khalt picked up rumours concerning the increase in these Holy Deaths and, acting on impulse, decided to investigate the phenomenon. To her surprise, she met with great resistance from the natives, who view the Holy Deaths as sacred and resent interference from outsiders. She reported back to the Kaliph’s office, which then conveyed the information to the Parzupheim. The victims of this particular form of death appear drained of blood; it is the only clue we have to go on, but quite a damning one.’ He sighed. ‘Too long we have hidden away here in the atelier courts. It seems these Holy Deaths have been occurring for many years, but we have ignored them. It is our duty to investigate all irregular events beyond Sacramante, but instead we hide behind our art and our patrons.’
For a moment, I had the ridiculous impression his thoughts were heading in a similar direction as Avirzah’e’s. Surely not! ‘But why do you think the Tartaruchis might be responsible?’ I asked. ‘There are many eloim living beyond Bochanegra. Couldn’t one of those throngs have gone rogue?’
‘That is a possibility; one which we shall also be examining, but I find it hard to believe that those throngs, who are so paranoid about their own safety, would risk such behaviour. And Avirzah’e did condemn himself with his own words when you returned from Lansaal. He did not take kindly to being silenced either. My instincts tell me he is planning something and it seems more than coincidence we find unwilling sup victims lying dead in Khalt when Avirzah’e made it known how strongly he believed we should revert to such violation.’
‘Have you confronted him with this suspicion?’ I asked. It was difficult to imagine how Avirzah’e might react to such accusation, but a picture of his face, convulsed with sneering laughter, sprang to my mind.
‘Not yet. Tartaruchi is a powerful throng and I am loath to offend Tartarus outright. If I manage to gather enough incontrovertible evidence the Tartaruchi Lord will be unable to voice official complaint, so I will have to be patient.’
I sighed deeply. The knowledge my father had passed to me had crushed any euphoria I had felt at the success of my performance the previous evening. Until then, I had believed that the selection, and continued observation, of Rayojini would be more than an adequate contribution on my part towards the solving of the eloim’s dilemmas. Now, it was clear that the sickness was not our only problem, and that my father would not allow me to remain ignorant of it. Was it the penance fate had placed upon me for the murders I had committed in Lansaal?
‘I am sorry to have distressed you,’ Metatron said, obviously noticing how my spirits had fallen, ‘but it is important that you know all these things. Forget what I have said, on a conscious level, but be aware of it within. Be vigilant. Take care of your brother. I fear that, in years to come, Avirzah’e will attempt to intrude upon your plans with the soulscaper. Be alert for an approach. You, I have no fear, will be able to repel it, but Beth... It pains me to admit this, but he has... weaknesses. Thus, he will be your weakness. Remember this, Gimel. Remember it well.’
‘What are you going to do?’ My voice sounded very small. At that moment, I wanted to curl into his arms, feel his strength around me. He knew that, and kept his distance, knowing also that I would regret such behaviour later.
‘Do? For now, nothing, except to observe and collect information. The time may yet come for the Harkasites to be awoken and released.’
‘No!’ I put my hands over my ears.
‘Yes,’ Metatron replied softly. ‘Many things from the past are buried, or kept hidden, the Harkasites among them, and I know their power can be ungovernable, but the way events are developing, I might have no choice but to use them.’
‘Please, I pray you, do not make me hear this!’ I cried.
The Harkasites hailed from an earlier age, when we had needed warriors to protect us. They were dark creatures, unpredictable, almost like beasts. Lord Sammael, who had long been absent from our society, had initiated their creation in a time of great need when, in the past, humanity had turned on us and driven us into hiding. The eloim had been grateful, once they’d felt secure enough in their environment, to retire the Harkasites to retreat slumber, but perhaps there’d always been a fear that, one day, the warriors would have be recalled from sleep. I did not know where they reposed - only Metatron and the Parzupheim knew that - but it made my skin crawl to think they might be nearby, hidden somewhere in the atelier courts. Whispered legends suggested the Harkasites, when pursuing a particular directive, were unconcerned whether the victims of their investigations were eloim or human. And those whom they interrogated were victims; I had little doubt of that. These were things I never thought about normally. I was upset, almost angry, that Metatron felt he had to share this information with me, making me face such uncomfortable images.
‘Gimel, I trust you,’ he said, apparently divining my thoughts. ‘As you know, if I had my way, you would administer this House at my side.’
I lowered my hands. ‘You flatter me, Metatron, but I am unsure whether I am worthy of your regard. What you have told me frightens me very much.’
‘I would be uneasy if it didn’t,’ he said, and briefly touched my hands, where they were knotted in my lap.
‘Now, I have told you. Later, we might need to speak of this again, but for now, do me the honour of sharing a light sup with me.’ He grinned at me, quite boyishly. ‘I have the best. It will be a treat.’
I gulped; never had I felt less like supping. ‘I have... work... at home,’ I said.
‘It can wait. You work hard enough. Do I have to command my daughter to spend the day with me?’
I looked at him helplessly. ‘No, my lord, you do not.’
He stood and offered me his arm. ‘You were really very good last night, my dear.’
‘Oh, thank you. I must admit I did not see you there.’
‘I did not stay for the reception. Yes, very good. However, there are one or two points I feel need criticism....’
Together, we walked into the hall.
Canto Two
Section One
Rayojini
‘…who shall tempt with wandering feet the dark unbottomed infinite Abyss?’
Paradise Lost, Book II
A summer of drought was followed by an autumn of unceasing deluge; those that were late with the harvest watched their grain rotting in the fields. And I, Rayojini, daughter of Ushas, daughter of a skilled line, found myself in the waterlogged land of Khalt, wishing myself anywhere, anywhere else in the world. What an unfortunate time for the wanderlust to strike!
Walking north through the ceaseless downpour, I had need of a new pair of boots. The rough tracks that, in drier days, served as roads for caravans heading northwest had been reduced, through the attention of the elements, to little more than muddy streams, that sucked at my soggy trouser-legs causing irritating sores, and had destroyed the leather right off my feet; I was convinced one of my toes was suffering from a fungus blister. My long, heavy coat - one of my favourite garments - was thick with mud up to my knees and my wide-brimmed hat had become distinctly droopy; I’d had to remove the face-guard netting completely. As for my carryback, it had been getting heavier and heavier as I trudged along. Next town, I told myself, next settlement, next cottage by the way...