“But why me?” Anne asked.
“The throne isn’t open to just anyone,” Mother Uun replied. “And of the possible candidates, the Faiths probably consider you the best chance for preserving the world.”
“And the Briar King?”
“Who knows what his desires may be? But I should think his intention is to destroy whoever fills the throne before the sedos power can destroy him and everything he embodies.”
“And what is that?”
Mother Uun raised an eyebrow. “Birth and death. Germination and decay. Life.”
Anne set her cup down. “And how do you know all this, Mother Uun? How do you know so much about the Skasloi?”
“Because I am one of his keepers. And along with him, my clan preserves the knowledge of him from generation to generation.”
“But what if none of this is true? What if it’s all lies?”
“Why, then I know very little at all,” the Sefry said. “You must decide for yourself what is true. I can only tell you what I believe to be so. The rest is up to you.”
Anne nodded thoughtfully. “And the Crepling passageway? There is an entrance in this very house, isn’t there?”
“Indeed. I can show you if you are ready.”
“I’m not yet prepared,” Anne said. “But soon.” She settled her cup down. “You seem very helpful, Mother Uun.”
“Is there something else, Your Majesty?”
“Male Sefry can remember the passages, can’t they?”
“They can. Our kind are different.”
“Are there Sefry warriors here in Gobelin Court?”
“It depends on what you mean. All Sefry, male and female, have some training in the arts of war. Many who live here wander far in the world, and many have known battle.”
“Then—”
Mother Uun raised a hand. “The Sefry of Gobelin Court will not help you. In showing you the passageway, I fulfill the only obligation we have.”
“Perhaps you should not think in terms of obligations,” Anne said, “but of rewards.”
“We make our own way in the world, we Sefry,” Mother Uun said. “I don’t ask you to understand us.”
“Very well,” Anne said. But I will remember this once I am on the throne.
She rose. “Thank you for the tea, Mother Uun, and for the conversation.”
“It was my pleasure,” the Sefry replied.
“I’ll return shortly.”
“Whenever you wish.”
“You said you were going to tell me what was going on,” Austra reminded her as they reentered the sunlight. They shielded their eyes from the glare.
Something seemed to be happening at the far end of the square, but Anne couldn’t tell what it was. A small group of men broke off from the rest and moved in her direction.
“I have dreams,” Anne said. “You know that.”
“Yes. And your dreams told you about this Crepling passage?”
“I saw all the passages,” Anne said. “There’s a sort of map in my head.”
“That’s rather convenient,” Austra replied. “Who showed you this map?”
“What do you mean?”
“You said you had a vision. Was it the Faiths again? Were they the ones who told you about the passages?”
“It isn’t always the Faiths,” Anne replied. “They are, in fact, more confusing than helpful. No, sometimes I just know things.”
“Then no one actually spoke to you?” Austra pressed, sounding doubtful.
“What do you know about this?” Anne said, trying to keep a sudden burst of anger leashed.
“I think I was there, that’s all,” Austra said. “You were talking in your sleep, and it seemed as if you were talking to someone. Someone who frightened you. And you woke up screaming, remember?”
“I remember. I also remember telling you that you aren’t to question me so boldly.”
Austra’s face went stony.
“Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but that isn’t what you said. You said I was free to question you and make my arguments in private but that once you had spoken on a subject, I was to be obedient to that word.”
Anne suddenly realized that Austra was shaking and very near to tears. She took her friend’s hand.
“You’re right,” Anne said. “I’m sorry, Austra. Please understand. You’re not the only one under a strain, you know.”
“I know,” Austra said.
“You’re right about the vision, too. There was someone in the dream, and it was he who showed me the passages.”
“He? A Sefry, then?”
“I don’t think so,” Anne said. “I think it was something else. Something neither Sefry nor human.”
“The Kept, you mean? The Scaos? But how could you ever trust that creature?”
“I don’t. I’m sure that what he wants in return for his help is to be released. But remember what Mother Uun said—that I command him. No, he’ll give me what I want, not the other way around.”
“A real Scaos,” Austra murmured, wonder in her voice. “Living below us all this time. It makes me sick to even think about it. It’s like waking up to find a snake coiled around your feet.”
“If my ancestors kept such a thing alive, they must have had their reasons,” Anne said.
While they were speaking, five of her Craftsmen stepped up and formed a hedge around her. She noticed that Sir Leafton also was approaching.
“What’s going on at the other end of the square?” Anne asked.
“You’d best find a safe place, Majesty,” Leafton said. “Someplace that is easily defensible. We are already attacked.”
Part IV
Thrones
The Sefry are known almost everywhere except the islands, for they dislike crossing water. But oddly, in history they are nearly invisible. They do not fight battles; they do not found kingdoms. They do not leave their names on things. They are everywhere and nowhere.
One wonders what they are up to.
If you wish to know what a man really is, give him a crown.
1
The Charlatan
Aspar heard the death knells before he ever saw the town of Haemeth.
The sound carried in long, beautiful peals along the waters of the White Warlock River, startling a flock of hezlings into furtive flight. The southern sky was dark with smoke, but the wind was going that way, so Aspar couldn’t smell what was burning.
She’s a stranger. Would they ring the bell for a stranger?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know much at all about village customs on the north side of the Midenlands.
He urged Ogre to a trot. The great horse had strengthened steadily during the ride down the Warlock, grazing on rye and early fengrass, and after only a couple of days he was nearly his old self. This was cause for hope, but Aspar tried to keep away from that dangerous emotion. Winna had been far sicker than Ogre, and no medicine could bring back the dead.
The road wound along the low lip of the river valley, and after a few moments, Haemeth finally came into sight. Situated on the next large hill, it was a town of surprising size, with outlying farms and steadings spread out into the lowlands and along the road. He could see the source of the woeful music now, too, a spindly bell tower of white stone capped in black slate, so peaked that the whole thing looked rather like a spear.
A second tower, this one thicker and crenellated on top, stood on the highest point at the other end of town, and it seemed as if the two towers were joined by a long stone wall. Most likely the wall went all the way around the town, but since Aspar was looking up from below, all he could see was a handful of rooftops peeking over the top.