As such, he was entitled to attend court here in Li Heng, which he did at the earliest opportunity. Yet it was a disappointment; the legendary Protectress did not appear. The mundane dispensing of justice fell that day to some overly groomed mage who Heboric was surprised to discover was the moderately famous mage of Telas, Smokey.
He turned instead to questioning the gathered court of wealthy merchants, high functionaries, nobles, and other such flunkeys and hangers-on. Eventually he found what he was searching for: a self-important sycophant eager to prove how close he was to power by voicing all the many secrets he was privy to.
‘The Protectress is not in attendance?’ he asked the fat fellow.
The hanger-on laughed indulgently. And, glancing left and right, leaned closer. ‘I happen to know for a fact that she is unable to.’
Heboric made appreciative noises, ‘Indeed … And why would this be?’
The man nodded as if in secret accord with him. ‘Well, Brother Fener, you are new here, yes?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, the Five have things in hand – let us just say that, yes?’
Heboric raised his brows, impressed. ‘You are implying …’
The man peered right and left once more, and winked. ‘Let us just say that I am now in such a position that no action is taken at all by the Cabal of Five without my consultation, yes?’ And he patted Heboric on the arm, conspiratorially.
For his part, Heboric struggled to make sense of what the fellow was insinuating. That he was, or was not, currently consulted? He decided that unctuous buttering-up would smooth over any confusion and so he made more rapt noises, adding, ‘Indeed!’
The court hanger-on nodded profoundly. ‘Indeed. You are obviously incredibly observant yourself. I can tell, as I myself possess an acuity that is uncanny.’
‘Amazing!’
‘Absolutely. Believe me. This so-called “retreat” by the Protectress is a completely false cover-up. The Five now rule in all but name. Take it from me, for I am never wrong.’ And raising a fat finger in emphasis, the fellow strode off.
Heboric was left blinking in a fog of confusion, until, with some mental effort, he managed to dismiss ninety per cent of the blowhard verbiage to distil the conclusion that plots and rumours were now rife here in the power vacuum of the court of Heng.
Familiarizing himself with the city, walking the rounds, he found very little to worry him regarding the purported rampant cult activity. True, the cult of the Protectress was on display in shrines and votary offerings at crossroads and marketplaces, but as a scholar of religion and history he understood that such was the normal ferment of beliefs and competing factions. Time would be the test here. And it would be interesting to find out if any of these new creeds or personalities would ever actually amount to anything.
A week later he was attending to the dutiful in the temple when a guard entered and ordered everyone to post. Heboric stepped out on to the main training grounds to find guards rushing about and reinforcements being assembled. He set off to find a ranking officer to question.
He found a lieutenant of the garrison attached to the palace across the grounds. This woman inclined her helmeted head to him in respect. ‘Priest,’ she greeted him.
‘What is all the activity?’
‘A raid. A rider arrived yesterday from Cawn, warning us. The pirate ruler of Malaz heading upriver. We were ready for a minor raid, but things are heating up. Seems they came ready to take on the Five.’
Heboric nodded. ‘Ah. So a mage battle.’
‘Unfortunately for the rest of us, yes. Now, if you would excuse me?’
He bowed. ‘Of course.’ The officer jogged off.
As priest of one of the gods of war, Heboric chose to walk the walls of the palace grounds to witness this attack. Hengan guards came to ask his blessing, which he gave freely as he sought out a position from which to see the action. Eastward, apparently.
Reaching a viewpoint on a corner barbican of the palace walls, he leaned on the stone crenel and peered out along the Idryn. He saw nothing in particular, save for thick traffic on the roads, a great many citizens rushing this way and that in panic and confusion. Some smoke and dust in the air over the city far to the east.
The raid, such as it was, didn’t seem to have penetrated very far into the city proper. The Five must have repelled these pirate adventurers. Still, he remained for a few hours as noon approached, and then, to his surprise, the Boar suddenly came to him.
It was as if a shadow of the beast himself reared up over him; the hair of his neck and arms bristled just as any boar’s would. He raised his nose to scent the air as the shadow-boar did over him and what it sensed made it chuff and stiffen. The power of the Boar burst upon him then, as an aura, sizzling the air, and his head turned to the inner palace walls within the compound, and what he saw there through Fener’s eyes staggered him.
Lean and ragged shapes stood the walls, some wearing archaic headdresses and tattered hide cloaks. Yet through Fener’s senses Heboric saw them for what they were: entities fairly blazing with power, and he recognized them from ancient accounts: the undying army of the Imass themselves, and even the Boar within him was staggered.
He understood now why he was here. This was far more epochal than the mere transfer of authority from one ruler to another. An ancient and implacable power had been raised anew and nothing would be the same again.
He headed for the palace. Had these Elders now taken charge?
The court was a mass of panicked functionaries, bureaucrats, merchants and city aristocrats, all jostling and exchanging whispered news – awaiting their fates, in fact. Later that afternoon the doors opened and in came a short, wizened Dal Hon elder with a walking stick, accompanied by a lean youth and a Napan woman. These three walked to the front and the Dal Hon seated himself on the formal throne of Heng, flanked by the other two.
The elder raised his hands for silence. ‘Calm yourselves, please, citizens of Heng. Nothing shall change. All shall remain as before. The Protectress may be gone, but you have a new Protector.’ The ancient pressed a hand to his chest. ‘Myself.’
‘And you are?’ some brave soul shouted from the crowd.
The ancient appeared quite startled. He planted his walking stick between his feet, announcing, ‘I am Kellanved, ruler of the isles of Malaz and Nap – and the ruling authority over the city state of Cawn, and now of Li Heng also.’
Heboric squinted – the fellow might look old, but he appeared startlingly quick and vigorous for one of such apparent age. He had to wonder: was this the one responsible for the summoning of the Elders?
This ‘Kellanved’ now stroked his chin. ‘And thinking on that …’ he turned to the blue-hued Napan woman with him, ‘does that not make me emperor? After the Talian hegemony? Ruler of more than one kingship?’
The woman’s lips tightened, and she murmured from the side of her mouth, ‘Now is not the time …’
The fellow banged his walking stick to the flagged floor. ‘Now is absolutely the appropriate time! This is momentous! It must be witnessed!’ He scanned the court, peering all around. ‘Is there no historian present? None qualified to record these events for posterity? For the ages to follow?’
Heboric looked about him, as did the hunched Dal Hon elder upon the throne. No one stirred to raise a hand, and so, driven by the demands and dictates of his training as scholar and historian, Heboric very slowly, reluctantly, lifted his arm into the air.
The ancient, Kellanved, perked up. ‘Ah!’ He pointed his walking stick. ‘Here we are. Fener is with us! Welcome, priest. Please approach.’
Heboric edged his way through the crowd to reach the fore. The elder urged him even closer. Hesitantly, he advanced, but quite warily, as the slim fellow on the elder’s right now leaned forward, hand on a dagger, and he knew that one false motion, one shift too close, and that weapon would be lodged in his throat. ‘Yes m’lor – that is, your excellency?’