“I've been reading the Gash-Tal over again,” Azkun heard him say. He did not look as though he was newly wakened. “Menish, you are not to accompany the expedition to Gashan. I forbid it.”
Menish said nothing to commit himself either way, and Vorish’s expression hardened into annoyance.
“You've been warned then. I can't do more.”
They mounted their horses and clattered across the cobblestones, through the great archways and out into the city streets. The horses were lean beasts, built for speed rather than strength. Azkun could feel his horse's excitement at setting off. It wanted to run.
There were few people about, some stall keepers setting up early and a bakery alight with lamps and full of activity. They passed mounted guards, for Vorish had the streets patrolled at night.
The north gate of the city was lit with many lamps and in their light the shields and armour of the guards were visible. Several stood on watch up on the walls, others manned the gate and a large group huddled around a glowing brazier that kept away the night chill.
As they drew near they were challenged. Althak presented the metal disk that functioned as an Imperial pass and the gates were opened enough for them to pass through single file.
The city ended abruptly with the walls and, when the gate boomed shut behind them, Azkun found himself on the wide plains he had seen from the boat. They spread out in every direction under the starry sky that, in the east, was glowing grey with dawn. The road ran straight as an arrow to the north east, reflected dimly in the starlight. To Azkun it looked magical, as if it rose before them like a stairway to the sky.
While he was still dreaming these thoughts Menish kicked his horse into a gallop.
“Anthor!” he cried. “Home to Anthor!” a shout of joy burst from Althak and Drinagish. Young Olcish, caught in the moment let out a high pitched whoop. The other horses sprang eagerly after the king and they galloped along the starlit road with a wild joy in their hearts. Running, racing was all they lived for.
All day they kept up a mad gallop. Every few hours the travellers stopped at a way station by the road briefly to exchange their tired horses for fresh ones. At noon the pause was long enough to eat and drink, and then they were off again.
The country they passed through was flat at first but by the afternoon it was low, rolling hills. In the lowlands the flat fields were swampy but lush and people waded through the mud tending watery crops that were growing vigorously. In the higher country the fields were drier but no less lush. There were small villages where chimneys smoked from mud houses and dogs barked.
In the late afternoon the country became flat again and they skirted wide lakes where men in little boats paddled or waited with lines on poles for fish. One of the lakes had a whole village built out over the water on poles. It was full of boats and people coming and going. Azkun was interested, but they did not stop there.
They rode on into the night until Azkun was nearly asleep on his horse. At last they came to another city. All Azkun noticed was that it was rather like Atonir, including a palace, and they had to cross a great bridge to reach it.
They passed the gate guards and rode to the palace where Athun met them. He had ridden back from Atonir the previous day. The city, Althak told Azkun, was named Askonir and Athun was the Drinol of the city. He looked as tired as Azkun felt. His palace was alive with soldiers, officers shouting orders, cavalry drilling and, in the smithies, the clang and clash of metal on metal. Preparations for the war with Gashan, if it were confirmed, were already under way.
Even as Athun welcomed them a messenger came to him with news of horse counts from further up the river. He ran a weary hand through his dark hair and bade them follow him.
Inside the palace they were provided with rooms and servants. Baths were filled and food was provided. It was already after the main meal of the day so they ate in their rooms, not in the great hall. Azkun did not wait for them to finish eating or bathing. He found his bed and, without bothering to remove his jerkin, went to sleep.
The next day began much the same as the last. A thump on his door before dawn and a wild gallop across the plains. When they stopped for their brief noon meal Azkun could see that the land was becoming more hilly again. Away in the blue distance the hills rose to mountains with a hint of higher mountains beyond.
In the middle distance the ground rose to a blue-black crag that leapt out of the treeless plains. Menish and Hrangil stared at it as they ate their dried meat and fruit.
“I will see the Keeper,” said Menish, a grimness in his voice.
“Sire? The Keeper?”
“Yes, I have… questions for him.”
“The Eye?”
But Menish did not answer. He swung himself up onto his horse and waited silently for the others to mount. Then they galloped off on the road towards the crag.
As the afternoon wore on the details of the crag became clearer: a tall finger of stone pointed skywards, black on the black crag below it. Smoke curled from the tip of the finger and, when dusk enclosed them, a twinkling, yellow light shone from there. They rode on into the night towards it until they came to the foot of the crag. A small post-house stood there, the crag looming above it and the stone tower with its light above that.
They were met by a tall, lean man with a grim mouth and eyes that glowed in the light of the lamp he held. Unlike the other way station attendants, and they had met many in the last two days, this one spoke no word of greeting. Althak presented him with the Imperial pass he carried but the man looked at Menish and nodded as if he recognised him.
“I wish to speak with the Keeper of the Flame,” said Menish.
The man nodded again and beckoned them to follow him inside the post-house.
It was like the many others they had seen in the past two days: a simple, two roomed, stone building with straw pallets in one room and benches and tables in the other. The man’s silent manner stifled any other speech and Althak half whispered an explanation to Azkun.
“He's forgotten speech. Up there,” he indicated the tower on the crag, “they tend their fire for years and years without uttering a word.”
Menish indicated that Azkun was to accompany him, Tenari followed without being asked. The post-house man led them through a rear door. The night closed around them as they were taken along a narrow path that wound up the crag to the solemn tower above.
It was not a long climb, for the crag was not high, but it was difficult. In some places it was treacherous. Loose rocks turned under their feet and others were slippery. Even the lamp was of little use, for the rock of the crag was black and appeared to eat up the cheerful, yellow light. Their guide went slowly ahead of them, effortlessly for he knew the path, but he made no effort to warn them of obstacles.
Azkun, who had not been bothered by the night since Tenari had appeared, felt that there were spectres not far away. They could not see him yet, but they were there. He pulled Tenari closer to him as he walked.
She had changed over the last two days, reverting to her previous blankness. The miles on horseback obviously did not agree with her.
When they reached the top of the crag their legs and eyes ached from the strain and the silence of the place had enfolded them. They stood at the base of the tower whose black stone rose sheer and windowless from the rock of the crag to a dizzying height above. No doubt, thought Azkun, it was built by Gilish. High above them the fire burned. They could see its flames leaping over the crest of the tower.
A door opened at the foot of the tower as they approached and a robed figure beckoned them silently inside. Azkun could sense the awe Menish felt at this place. It was an awe that bordered on, but was not quite, fear. They entered the doorway and found themselves in pitch darkness. The door boomed shut behind them and they heard the sound of heavy bolts sliding into place. The darkness and the silence crowded around them. From the echoes of their footsteps Azkun realised that they were in a large room. He was also aware that the room was full of people. People who were silently waiting in the darkness.