“I am grateful for your frankness.” Perhaps he was. It was becoming clear to him that Lady Asea was, despite her appearance of youth and beauty, one of those elderly Terrarchs who possessed fixed ideas on certain subjects and had decided to convert the world to those ideas no matter how ludicrous. Surely she did not think he was one of those young nobles who sympathised with such hare-brained philosophising! She smiled at him, almost as if she could read the thoughts swimming across the surface of his mind. “I am not altogether sure it is necessary though.”
“Clarity of understanding is rarely a bad thing and often necessary.” She sounded a little wistful now, and he felt obscurely as if he had failed some test and was lessened in her estimation. It was a feeling he had experienced rather too often recently.
“Forgive me if I seem rude but you have not yet told me why you are telling me this.”
She looked at him again, seemed to measure him, and come to some conclusion. “I am telling you this because I want you to remember what I have said.”
“You flatter me.”
“Not at all. I want someone to remember the words of the Dragon Angel should anything happen to me in these mountains. I have left the knowledge among my papers but who knows what might happen to them if they fall into the hands of the Inquisition.”
“I feel it best to tell you I have no sympathy with your ideas, Lady Asea.”
“I appreciate your candour but that is irrelevant. You will remember the words, and if you do not come to understand them, you may pass them on to someone who does.”
Slowly the significance of the rest of her statement sank in.
“You do not seriously believe anything will happen to you here, my Lady?”
“I think it is possible.”
“The hill-men can be fierce but I doubt they will attack such a strong force.”
“It is not the hill-men I fear.”
“Then what is it?”
“It is past Solace night.”
“True but that does not answer my question.”
“Solace commemorates the day when the Dragon’s Gate was closed. The reason the ritual was performed on that night was because it was the night when the powers of magic were at their strongest even in this benighted world. The night remains so.”
“But it is passed.”
“No. What we call Solace night is celebrated on the same night every year. It is part of our calendar of religious festivals. The true Solace night does not fall thus. It is a time when the stars and planets are all in conjunction when forces flow free. The date on which it falls varies and long ago parted company from the day we call Solace.”
“So what you would call true Solace has yet to come.”
“It falls tomorrow night.”
“And you feel this has some threatening significance?”
“I am certain of it.”
“Would you care to explain why?”
“The last time you were in these mountains you fought and killed a sorcerer.”
“One of my men killed the sorcerer.”
“I believe that it was part of a larger pattern.”
“What do you mean?”
“On hearing your tale I sent a request to the Temple for some ancient books that were in their keeping. Books that were on the Black Index. Proscribed books dealing with the Ultari and their demon god.”
“Yes.”
“My request was denied.”
“They denied access to the books to one of the First?”
“Yes.”
“You should petition the Queen.”
“No need. They told me why my petition was denied.”
“Why?”
“They no longer had the books. They vanished five years ago at about the same time as a young priest, a priest who was under suspicion of studying certain forbidden mysteries. His name was Alzibar.”
“The same name as the sorcerer we found…”
“I would guess the same sorcerer.”
“It’s good we killed him then.”
“Yes. But he was not working alone. Perhaps he was working for someone else. Think about it — where had he been for the past five years? Who sheltered him? Why did he choose this exact time to come back?”
“You think someone sent him?”
“We stand once more on the verge of war. On the very eve of it, sorcerers and demons appear virtually within our borders. They are in league with the hill-tribes. Don’t you find it all a little suspicious?”
Sardec did when it was phrased like that. “Why tell me this now? Why did you not mention this to Colonel Xeno?”
“I did. It’s one reason you are here.”
It certainly had a superficial plausibility, Sardec thought, but of course he was in no position to find out the truth of her allegations, and would not be until they returned from this mission. Once more he felt out of his depth.
“You are saying we can expect to see more of those demons.”
“On the night of True Solstice old dark things have the easiest entrance into our world. I think something will be invited through. That is why I am here myself and in the full war gear of the First.”
“I suppose you mentioned this to Colonel Xeno too.”
“Of course.” What if she had? What if it was not her who was lying here but Colonel Xeno? But why would the Colonel do that to one of his own officers? What could he possibly have to gain? Having fought just one of the Ultari, he shuddered to think what might happen if an army of them suddenly appeared.
“Whatever else might be the case, it would seem best if we could get to the source of this before the night of True Solace”
“On this we are agreed. Time presses. Midnight is the optimal time for summoning.”
“We shall press on with all possible speed.”
Another thought occurred to Sardec. “If what you say is true, the chances are we will find what you seek somewhere within the mine.”
“Such would be my guess.”
Sardec did not like the way this was going at all. It came to him that if there was something in that mine that frightened one of the First, he ought to be very afraid too.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Zarahel looked down the long valley. Things were starting to go his way now. Several hundred men of his war band, mostly Agante but with a few brave outcasts drawn from the disaffected young of the other tribes, had gathered in response to his summons. They would make perfect witnesses for his ascendancy to great power.
He scratched his neck. There was a massive purple blister where his familiar drank from his blood. Others covered the rest of his body. They had stopped itching now but there were small hard things within them. Sometimes it felt as if they were moving, but that was a small enough price to pay for the power the familiar provided and the link with the Old Gods it gave him.
When first Alzibar had hatched it from the purple eggs using his alchemy, Zarahel had been horrified. Now he was used to it, and he was uncomfortable if he could not feel it scuttling around under his loose robes. The narcotic bites provided him with a euphoric confidence beyond anything he had ever experienced. His sorcerous powers had grown because of it. Perhaps now he would even be a match for a Terrarch.
Bertragh looked better. He had been in a strange fey mood for the past few days. He looked at Zarahel as if half expecting him to betray their masters in the Brotherhood. It would not matter much after tonight. Uran Ultar would be summoned and the assembled warriors would witness it. Word that he enjoyed the Old Gods favour would spread from tribe to tribe and they would swarm to his banner. Those that did not would be eliminated by the night-black sorcery he would command. He would be lord of the mountains and holy war would restore the empire his ancestors had lost.
Alzibar being slain had proved a good thing. Now matters lay purely in the hands of men and that was as it should be. The Old God really did favour him, as it had whispered in his dreams. He shivered as he remembered the black visions that had swept through his mind the night before. He had seen the past.