Born Of Darkness (Book 7)

  “I’ll bid you farewell now,” Zamara said. “I must return to my ship and see that my crew are well. I will also make sure your goods are safely delivered to the Palace.”

  Jonas bowed too and made for the door. “I recommend you try the wine. It’s really very good.”

  ***

  “This is an odd place,” Rhiana said, once they were alone. She stood on the balcony looking down at the harbour. Kormak could see the treasure fleet at anchor down there. Other ships were came and went, leaving white wakes scrawled on the blue parchment of the sea.

  “How so?” Kormak said.

  “Come on! We have a king who talks to angels and a prince who looks like a shark. We’re confined to the palace. Everybody around us fawns and scrapes and bows to those two oh-so-important men.”

  “We’re not in Port Blood anymore,” Kormak said.

  “More’s the pity.”

  “You don’t like it here?”

  She shrugged and leaned forward to look down. Beneath them an elaborate rose-garden dominated the large courtyard. The scent drifted up. “It makes me uncomfortable. In Port Blood, the captains have power, but nothing like Aemon and his brother. You saw the way Zamara behaved and Jonas. They would have got down on the ground and licked Taran’s boots clean if he asked.”

  Kormak said, “Those two have power. Real power. And they are not afraid to use it. The King’s favour could make Zamara rich. It could make Jonas the head of his order.”

  “And what could it do for you? Aren’t you afraid that if you stay here, you’ll end up like all the others?”

  “Are you?”

  She gave him a sharp glance. “Maybe. This place makes me uneasy. It looks like a fortress. It looks like a palace. It’s full of rich, arrogant land dwellers.”

  There was a thoughtful note in her voice. “And King Aemon frightens me,” she said. “He radiates power just like the Kraken did, only more so.”

  Kormak thought about the way his elder sign had reacted in the presence of the King. “They say the Imperial Line has a gift for sorcery. The Blood of Emperors they call it. Aemon’s great grandfather Pelageus placed the sunstone back in the Tower of Light. When he ignited it with his own hands, all the world saw Siderea had been redeemed from the Old Ones and the Shadow. He was the greatest wizard of the age.”

  Rhiana did not seem to be listening. “Aemon has more power than anyone I have ever met and the way he looked when he saw my eyes. He hated me.”

  She turned and leaned into Kormak and he saw that she was frightened. If Aemon disliked her, she had every reason to be. Siderea was home of the Inquisition of the Eternal Sun and they did not like those humans whom the Old Ones had altered.

  “But enough of this talk, Sir Kormak,” Rhiana said. “We are alone in our chambers. What are we to do?”

  She moved close enough so that he could smell the faint salty tang of her skin.

  “I am sure we shall think of something,” Kormak said.

  ***

  A knock sounded on the door. Early evening light filtered in through the curtains. The chamber smelled of wine and incense and love-making.

  “Yes,” Kormak said, sitting up in the bed. Rhiana lay naked beside him, reading a volume of sea lore she had found on the shelf and laughing at the inaccuracies.

  An elderly retainer garbed all in black entered the chamber. He took one glance at them and looked away.

  “Sir Kormak, Lady Rhiana. Tonight the King is giving a ball to celebrate the arrival of the First Treasure Fleet. He wishes you to be his guests. Prince Taran has asked me to ensure you are provided with suitable garb. If you wish I shall return once you have dressed.”

  Rhiana glanced up at him and smiled. She was as unselfconscious about nakedness as all of her people. “If we are just going to get dressed again, why bother? Bring in this suitable garb!”

  The old man clapped his hands and a line of servant girls entered, each of them carrying ball gowns of blue and green and crimson and white. A line of serving men brought in sets of court uniform suitable for a nobleman.

  Rhiana eyed the ball gowns and smiled. “I suppose being stuck here does have some advantages.”

  ***

  Kormak studied his reflection in the mirror. He was not sure he recognised this grey-eyed stranger. The royal barbers had trimmed his hair. The royal tailors had adjusted his garments until they fitted perfectly. He wore a black and red tunic, with a white ruff covering his neck. His dwarf-forged blade hung at a black belt around his waist. His elder sign was visible on his chest.

  A sheer green gown clung to Rhiana’s full figure. A circlet bearing a gold elder sign wound round her forehead. Another one dangled from her neck. Two pearl earrings hung from her ears. A stole covered her right shoulder and obscured a gill slit. She had insisted on wearing a dress that revealed them despite the objections of the seamstresses.

  She turned so he could observe.

  “Go on, laugh,” she said. “Pirate girl dressed up.”

  “You look beautiful,” he said.

  “You look like an assassin.”

  “Alas it is my fate.”

  “A very good-looking assassin.”

  “Thank the Sun for that.”

  “Shall we go and give the local gentry something to gawk at.”

  “Why not? I live to provide novelty to the lives of the nobility.”

  A servant waited outside the chamber to lead them to the ballroom.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THROUGH A WALL of glass, the light of the sunstone illuminated the enormous ballroom. It fell on the statues of ancient kings standing on alcove pedestals. It picked out the hundreds of nobles and the servants who brought them drinks and food. It shone down on the corner where musicians played courtly songs.

  As the pair entered, all eyes turned to look at Kormak and Rhiana. For a moment there was silence then the buzz of conversation started. As they moved through the crowds, Kormak picked out the words guardian and merwoman.

  Frater Jonas came to greet them, garbed in his plain robe. As the son of peasants, he should have looked as out of place as they did, but somehow he fitted right in.

  He glanced around with the assurance of an inquisitor and advisor to Kings. Many of the nobles present would not meet his gaze. Others glared at him once he was no longer looking at them. A few transferred their resentment to Kormak when they saw he had noticed.

  “I am pleased to see you in attendance,” said Jonas. He glided past a tall noblewoman in a black dress and took a drink from a tray carried by a serving girl. With a nod he indicated they should do the same. Rhiana did. Kormak did not. “Come! Keep me company and I will endeavour to keep you entertained.”

  Rhiana looked grateful to see a familiar face. Kormak moved into position on the other side of her from Jonas as he guided them through the crowd.

  “See those richly garbed men off to starboard, to use an appropriately nautical term? Those are our bold captains newly arrived bearing the treasures of Terra Nova. The huge bear of a man they are talking to is Orson Waters— a commoner and aside from His Majesty the richest man in the kingdom.”

  His gesture took in a group of gaudily garbed bearded men standing apart from the others. They looked self-conscious, calculating and tough. Most had the same dark skin and dark hair as Jonas. They glanced around with cool arrogance, ignoring the disdain of the golden-haired patricians. “Their shares of those cargoes will make them rich for life.”

  Jonas’s nod indicated another group, this time garbed in black, blonde-haired, clean-shaven. “See the lynch mob of angry young man there, the ones clustered around the Duke of Albare? He’s the tall good-looking one with the broken nose—those are members of our Patrician faction. They disapprove of those who have acquired in one lifetime the wealth it took their forefathers generations to steal.”

  Seeing them looking at him, the Duke moved towards them. He had the natural grace of the born swordsman and the arrogance of old nobility. He walked up
as if he owned the ballroom. He eyed Rhiana with cool insouciance, gave Kormak a clipped smile then looked down at Jonas.

  “Frater Jonas, you have returned from whatever mission took you away from us. Has some other poor unfortunate died an unnatural death?”

  His voice was a languid drawl, utterly confident. Jonas did not look in the slightest intimidated. He smiled and said, “Sir Kormak, allow me to introduce you to His Grace, Leone, Duke of Albare. The Duke is a notorious duellist and a well-known wit.”

  Jonas made the word wit sound as if he had left out the word half before it.

  “Ah you are the famous barbarian swordsman. I have heard you are quite good with that blade.”

  His manner was provoking. Kormak wondered if this was a deliberate attempt to cause a duel. The Duke did not look stupid. “I had not heard the same about you until Frater Jonas mentioned it.”

  Leone frowned. Jonas’s smile widened a fraction. “The Duke is said by many to be the best swordsman in Siderea.”

  The Duke’s eyed narrowed. He did not like to have his praises sung by the priest. “He has killed many men and not a few boys. The Duke believes in quantity as well as quality.”

  “Be careful, priest,” Duke Leone said. “You may not always enjoy the King-Emperor’s protection.”

  He turned on his heel and strode back towards his associates.

  Jonas gave an apologetic shrug. “I really shouldn’t irritate the Duke but somehow, no matter my good intentions, I always end up doing so.”

  “It seems like he would be an easy man to irritate,” said Kormak.

  “Do not underestimate him, my friend. He is a deadly swordsman and quite clever when he reins in his temper.”

  “Which is why you needle him,” Rhiana said.

  “My transparency embarrasses me.”

  As Jonas spoke a stately young woman emerged from the crowd to stand over him. “You are anything but transparent, Frater Jonas,” she said. “It is what makes you so appetising.”

  She looked about eighteen with raven-black hair and a slender figure. Her skin was pale and her eyes were a striking blue. The calculation in them was ageless. A silver circlet encircled her forehead. Inscribed on it was the symbol of the crescent moon. Around her waist was a silver belt made of interlinked versions of the same symbols. On her fingers were many rings, all inlaid with runes of mystical significance. Her nails were long and painted with more patterns. Kormak knew that looking at them too long would hurt the eye.

  “Lady Marketa, I am surprised and delighted that you have chosen to join us this evening,” Jonas said. “May I introduce Captain Rhiana, late of Port Blood, and Sir Kormak . . .”

  “I know who Sir Kormak is,” Marketa said.

  Her voice was low and thrilling and held a note of invitation. She gazed into Kormak’s eyes with an unblinking stare. Her red lips curved upwards into a smile. Rhiana’s grip tightened on Kormak’s arm.

  “Sir Kormak,” Jonas continued. “A Guardian of the Order of the Dawn. May I present Lady Marketa, Ambassador to the King-Emperor from the Courts of the Moon.”

  “I do not believe we have met before,” Kormak said.

  “Let us say your fame precedes you,” Lady Marketa said.

  “I did not know I was famous.”

  “Your name has come up at the Silver Court.”

  “You seem anxious to let me know that,” Kormak said.

  “I have wanted to meet you for many years,” she said. “You’ve killed a number of my acquaintances.”

  “Lady Marketa, now hardly seems like the time to bring up such matters,” said Frater Jonas. “This is a celebration, given by the King-Emperor, to mark the safe arrival of his fleet from Terra Nova.”

  “I am quite aware of the circumstances, Frater Jonas. Rest assured I would do nothing to embarrass either of our lords and masters.”

  She gave her provocative smile to them all and swept away. She did not need the two large armed men at her side to clear a path through the Siderean nobility. They stepped out of her way as if her touch was poisonous.

  ***

  A single horn sounded. Silence swept across the room. King Aemon entered, garbed still in his simple monk’s robe. He smiled upon his subjects, made the sign of blessing with his right hand and began to descend the stair. His brother moved one pace behind, studying the crowd as if it might contain a threat.

  The crowd parted to allow the King to find his way to his throne. Aemon progressed through the people, pausing to nod, exchange words or blessings. He looked like an absent-minded scholar but every person he spoke to was gratified by his attention.

  When he stepped upon the dais, he spread his arms wide and everyone fell silent. All eyes were upon him. He dropped his gaze to the floor as if surprised by the response.

  He tilted his head to one side, made a slight wave of his hand and said, “My friends, welcome to this celebration. Tonight we are truly blessed. We celebrate the safe arrival of our captains. They have passed far over the sea, outrunning even the storms of the ocean, to bring to us the wealth of the New World. We are grateful to these men for braving the dangers of the ocean and for bringing to us the means to do good work. The treasures they have dared so much to bring us will be put to the best of uses in the service of the Holy Sun. On this you have our word. Now, eat, drink and be merry, in the sight of the Angel.”

  He sat down without any further word. Silence fell. Kormak guessed few people were comfortable by the reminder of the nearness of Zhamriel’s armour. He wondered if the King knew this was the case and did not care.

  Prince Taran took his place beside the King and gestured for the musicians to start playing. Soon, under the eyes of the King, the ball was under way.

  ***

  “You dance surprisingly well for a barbarian swordsman,” said Rhiana.

  “And you for a pirate girl,” Kormak said. Looking over her shoulder he could see that the burning gaze of the Lunar ambassador was fixed on him. Marketa raised her wine glass to him and returned to her conversation with Frater Jonas.

  “Now there is an odd couple,” Rhiana said. “The Selenean witch and the King of Siderea’s spying priest.”

  “If it makes them happy,” Kormak said.

  “I do not think that woman means you well,” Rhiana said.

  “What gave it away? Was it the fact she mentioned I had killed people she knew . . .”

  “That was one clue. Best be wary. She has the power to do harm. She is a great sorceress. She radiates power like the King-Emperor.”

  “All the high level servants of the Courts of the Moon are sorcerers,” Kormak said. “Their courtiers, their generals, their assassins.”

  “You’ve had dealings with them?”

  “I have opposed their will in many places.”

  “Maybe that’s why you are famous.”

  “Infamous more likely. She was just too polite to say so.”

  “I think she is anything but polite. She reminds me of the King. She is powerful enough to say whatever she wants and get away with it.”

  “Perhaps here but not at the Courts. There she is only a human.”

  A messenger entered the room and made his way towards the throne. His face was pale. He was breathing hard. He threaded his way through the crowd. At Prince Taran’s side, he bowed and then leaned forward to whisper something in his overlord’s ear. The Prince’s face went pale and he turned his head to speak to the King.

  Aemon had been sitting there, eyes closed, moving his head in time to the music. At first, he did not respond but then his eyes snapped open, he placed his hands together as if in prayer and then rose from his throne.

  “Friends, an urgent matter of state demands our attention. Please remain and enjoy our hospitality. We shall return momentarily. Brother, Frater Jonas, if you would be so good as to accompany us.” He paused for a moment and looked upwards as if seeking guidance from above. He looked startled then nodded and said, “And Sir Kormak, if you would also be so
kind . . .”

  Rhiana looked at Kormak.

  “I have no idea,” Kormak said. He saw that Lady Marketa was watching him. A look flickered across her face. Possibly it was one of satisfaction.

  Kormak strode over to join the King and his brother. As they left the hall a company of soldiers fell into place around them. They were heavily armoured and they carried naked swords. Kormak wondered if someone had attempted a coup.

  “May I ask why our services are required, sire?” Frater Jonas asked.

  Aemon did not appear to hear. Prince Taran replied. “Murder in the royal treasure vaults. There seems to have been sorcery involved.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THEY MARCHED SWIFTLY through the palace. Soldiers guarded every door, looking around with the alert glances of warriors who expect an attack at any moment. A group of link-bearers, young men bearing torches, arrived to light their way. More soldiers joined the escort till nearly a hundred men were present.

  A flight of stairs led down, curving into the bowels of the rock upon which the palace sat. Shadows danced as the torches drove back the darkness. It became colder and damper and Kormak found himself thinking of the many dungeons he had experienced during his career.

  They emerged into a long corridor lined with heavy ironbound doors. One was open. Worried looking warriors stood outside it. King Aemon made to sweep past but before he could do so, his brother held out his arm to bar his way.

  “Sir Kormak, if you would be so kind,” Taran said.

  Kormak shrugged and stepped through the doorway. The air felt clammy and still. A robed man lay in a pool of blood. Kormak inspected the body without touching it and glanced around. The chamber was huge and filled with treasure chests. Some of them had broken open and gold and silver glittered in the torchlight. Kormak saw nothing immediately threatening but he sensed that something unfriendly watched. That sensation had saved his life in the past so he paid attention to it.

  He bent over the body and checked for a pulse. He flipped the corpse over. He was looking at an old man with a shaven head and bland, pudgy face. A huge wound that looked like it had been made by rending claws gaped in his side.