Eddings David - Tamuli - 01 - Domes of Fire Page 3

  were left to follow her instincts, Mirtai could depopulate

  several fair-sized towns in short order.

  She stood up, rising to her feet with exquisite grace.

  She was a good four inches taller than Sparhawk, and

  he felt again that odd sense of shrinking as he looked

  up at her. 'What took you so long?' she asked him.

  "I had to go to Lamorkand.'

  'Was that your idea? or somebody else's?'

  "Dolmant sent me."

  'Make sure Ehlana understands that right from the

  start. If she thinks you went there on your own, the

  fight will last for weeks, and all that wrangling gets on

  my nerves.' She produced the key to the royal apartment

  and gave Sparhawk a blunt, direct look. 'Be very

  attentive, Sparhawk. She's missed you a great deal, and

  she needs some tangible evidence of your affection. And

  don't forget to bolt the bedroom door. Your daughter

  might be just a little young to be learning about certain

  things.' She unlocked the door.

  'Mirtai, do you really have to lock us all in every

  night?'

  'Yes, I do. I can't get to sleep until I know that none

  of you is out wandering around the halls.'

  Sparhawk sighed. 'Oh, by the way,' he added, 'Kring

  was in Chyrellos. I imagine he'll be along in a few days

  to propose marriage to you again.'

  "It's about time,' she smiled. "It's been three months

  since his last proposal. I was beginning to think he

  didn't love me any more.'

  'Are you ever going to accept him?'

  'We'll see. Go wake up your wife, Sparhawk. I'll let you out in the

  morning.' She gently pushed him on through the doorway and locked the door

  behind him. Sparhawk's daughter, Princess Danae, was curled up in a large

  chair by the fire. Danae was six years old now. Her hair was very dark,

  and her skin as white as milk. Her dark eyes were large, and her mouth a

  small pink bow. She was quite the little lady, her manner serious and very

  grown-up. Her constant companion, nonetheless, was a battered and

  disreputable-looking stuffed toy animal named Rollo. Rollo had descended

  to Princess Danae from her mother. As usual, Princess Danae's little feet

  had greenish grass-stains on them. 'You're late, Sparhawk,' she said

  flatly to her father. 'Danae,' he said to her, 'you know you're not supposed

  to call me by name like that. If your mother hears you, she's going

  to start asking questions.'

  'She's asleep,' Danae shrugged.

  'Are you really sure about that?'

  She gave him a withering look. 'Of course I am.

  I'm not going to make any mistakes. I've done this many, many times

  before, you know. Where have you been?'

  "I had to go to Lamorkand.'

  'Didn't it occur to' you to send word to mother? She's been absolutely

  unbearable for the last few weeks.'

  "I know. Any number of people have already told me about it. I didn't

  really think I'd be gone for so long. I'm glad you're awake. Maybe you can

  help me with something. '

  'I'll consider it - if you're nice to me.'

  'Stop that. What do you know about Drychtnath?'

  'He was a barbarian, but he was'an Elene, after all, so it

  was probably only natural.'

  'Your prejudices are showing.'

  'Nobody's perfect. Why this sudden interest in ancient history?'

  "There's a wild story running through Lamorkand that Drychtnath's returned.

  They're all sitting around sharpening swords with exalted expressions on

  their faces. What's the real significance of that?'

  'He was their king several thousand years ago. It was shortly after you

  Elenes discovered fire and came out of your caves.' 'Be nice.' 'Yes,

  father. Anyway, Drychtnath hammered all the Lamorks into something that

  sort of resembled unity and then set out to conquer the world. The Lamorks

  were very impressed with him. He worshipped the old Lamork Gods, though,

  and your Elene Church was a little uncomfortable with the notion of a pagan

  sitting on the throne of the whole world, so she had him murdered.'

  'The Church wouldn't do that,' he said flatly.

  'Did you want to listen to the story? or did you want to

  argue theology? After Drychtnath died, the Lamork priests disembowelled a

  few chickens and fondled their entrails in order to read the future. That's

  really a disgusting practice, Sparhawk. It's so messy.' She shuddered.

  'Don't blame me. I didn't think it up.'

  "The "auguries", as they called them, said that one day Drychtnath would

  return to take up where he'd left off and that he'd lead the Lamorks to

  world domination.'

  "you mean they actually believe that?'

  "They did once.'

  "There are some rumours up there of backsliding reversion to the worship of

  the old Pagan Gods.'

  "It's the sort of thing you'd expect. When a Lamork starts thinking about

  Drychtnath, he automatically hauls the old Gods out of the closet. It's so

  foolish. Aren't there enough real Gods for them?'

  'The old Lamork Gods aren't real, then?'

  'Of course not. Where's your mind, Sparhawk?'

  'The Troll-Gods are real. What's the difference?'

  'There's all the difference in the world, father. Any child can see that.'

  'Why don't I just take your word for it? And why don't you go back to bed?'

  'Because you haven't kissed me yet.'

  'Oh. Sorry. I had my mind on something else.'

  'Of course not.'

  'Then give me a kiss.' He did that. As always she

  smelled of grass and trees. 'Wash your feet,' he told her.

  'Oh bother,' she said.

  'Do you want to spend a week explaining those grassstains to your mother?'

  'That's all I get?' she protested. 'One meager little kiss

  and bathing instructions?' He laughed, picked her up and kissed her again

  - several times. Then he put her down. 'Now scoot.' She pouted a little

  and then sighed. She started back toward her bedroom, negligently carrying

  Rollo by one hind leg. 'Don't keep mother up all night,' she said back

  over her shoulder, 'and please try to be quiet. Why do you two always have

  to make so much noise?' She looked impishly back over her shoulder. 'Why

  are you blushing, father?' she asked innocently. Then she

  laughed and went on into her own room and closed the

  door.

  He could never be sure if his daughter really understood

  the implications of such remarks, although he was

  certain that one level at least of her strangely layered

  personality understood quite well. He made sure that

  her door was latched and then went into the bedroom

  he shared with his wife. He closed and bolted the door

  behind him.

  The fire had burned down to embers, but there was

  still sufficient light for him to be able to see the young

  woman who was the focus of his entire life. Her wealth

  of pale blonde hair covered her pillow, and in sleep she

  looked very young and vulnerable. He stood at the foot

  of the bed looking at her. There were still traces of the

  little girl he had trained and moulded in her face.

  He sighed. That train of thought always made him
/>
  melancholy, because it brought home the fact that he

  was really too old for her. Ehlana should have a young

  husband - someone less battered, certainly someone

  handsome. He idly wondered where he had made the

  mistake that had so welded her affection to him that she

  had not even considered any other possible choice. It

  had probably been something minor - insignificant

  even. Who could ever know what kind of effect even

  the tiniest gesture might have on another?

  "I know you're there, Sparhawk,' she said without

  even opening her eyes. There was a slight edge to her

  voice.

  "I was admiring the view.' A light tone might head off

  the incipient unpleasantness; though he didn't really

  have much hope of that.

  She opened her grey eyes. 'Come over here,' she

  commanded, holding her arms out to him.

  "I was ever your Majesty's most obedient servant.' He

  grinned at her, going to the side of the bed.

  'Oh, really?' she replied, wrapping her arms about his

  neck and kissing him. He kissed her back, and that went

  on for quite some time.

  'Do you suppose we could save the scolding until

  tomorrow morning, love?' he asked. 'i'm a little tired

  tonight. Why don't we do the kissing and making up

  now, and you can scold me later.'

  'And lose my edge? Don't be)silly. I've been saving

  up all sorts of things to say to you.'

  "I can imagine. Dolmant sent me to Lamorkand to

  look into something. It took me a little longer than I

  expected.'

  'That's not fair, Sparhawk,' she accused.

  "I didn't follow that.'

  'You weren't supposed to say that yet. You're supposed

  to wait until after I've demanded an explanation

  before you give me one. Now you've gone and spoiled

  it.'

  'Can you ever forgive me?' He assumed an expression

  of exaggerated contrition and kissed her on the neck.

  His wife, he had discovered, loved these little games.

  She laughed. 'I'll think about it.' She kissed him back.

  The women of his family were a very demonstrative

  little group, he decided. 'All right then,' she said.

  'You've gone and spoiled it anyway, so you might as

  well tell me what you were doing, and why you didn't

  send word that you'd be delayed.'

  'Politics, love. You know Dolmant. Lamorkand is right on the verge of

  exploding. Sarathi wanted a professional assessment, but he didn't want

  it generally known that I was going there at his instruction. He didn't

  want any messages explaining things floating around.'

  "I think it's time

  for me to have a little talk with our revered Archprelate,' Ehlana said.

  'He seems to have a little trouble remembering just who I am.' "I don't

  recommend it, Ehlana.' 'i'm not going to start a fight with him, my love.

  I'm just going to point out to him that he's ignoring the customary

  courtesies. He's supposed to ask before he commandeers my husband. I'm

  getting just a little weary of his imperial Archprelacy, so I'm going to

  teach him some manners.' 'Can I watch? That might just be a very

  interesting conversation. ' 'Sparhawk,' she said, giving him a

  smouldering look, "if you want to avoid an official reprimand, you're

  going

  to have to start taking some significant steps to soften

  my displeasure.'

  "I was just getting to that,' he told her, enfolding'her

  in a tighter embrace.

  'What took you so long?' she breathed.

  It was quite a bit later, and the displeasure of the Queen

  of Elenia seemed to be definitely softening. 'What did

  you ' find out in Lamorkand, Sparhawk?' she asked,

  stretching languorously. Politics were never really very

  far from the queen's mind.

  'Western Lamorkand's in turmoil right now. There's

  a count up there - Gerich, his name is. We ran across

  him when we were searching for Bhelliom. He was

  involved with Martel in one of those elaborate schemes

  devised to keep the Militant Orders out of Chyrellos

  during the election.'

  'That speaks volumes about this count's character.'

  'Perhaps, but Martel was very good at manipulating

  people. He stirred up a small war between Gerrich and

  Patriarch Ortzel's brother. Anyway, the campaign

  appears to have broadened the count's horizons a bit.

  He's begun to have some thoughts about the throne.'

  'Poor Freddie,' Ehlana sighed. King Friedahl of

  Lamorkand was her distant cousin. 'You couldn't give

  'me that throne of his. Why should the Church be concerned,

  though? Freddie's got a large enough army to

  deal with one ambitious count.'

  "It's not quite so simple, love. Gerrich has been

  concluding alliances with other nobles in western

  Lamorkand. He's amassed an army nearly as big as the

  king's, and he's been talking with the Pelosian barons

  around Lake Venue.'

  'Those bandits,' she said with a certain contempt.

  'Anybody can buy them.'

  'You're well-versed in the politics of the region,

  Ehlana.'

  "I almost have to be, Sparhawk. Pelosia fronts my

  northeastern border. Does this current disturbance

  threaten us in any way?'

  'Not at the moment. Gerrich has his eyes turned eastward toward

  the capital.'

  'Maybe I should offer Freddie an alliance,' she mused.

  'if general war breaks out in the region, I could snip off

  a nice piece of southwestern Pelosia.'

  'Are we developing territorial ambitions, your

  Majesty?'

  'Not tonight, Sparhawk,' she replied. 'I've got other

  things on my mind tonight.' And she reached out to

  him again.

  It was quite a bit later, almost dawn. Ehlana's regular

  breathing told Sparhawk that she was asleep. He

  slipped from the bed and went to the window. His years

  of military training made it automatic for him to take a

  look at the weather just before daybreak.

  The rain had abated, but the wind had picked up. It

  was early spring now, and there was little hope for

  decent weather for weeks. He was glad that he had

  reached home when he had, since the approaching day

  looked unpromising. He stared out at the torches flaring

  and tossing in the windy courtyard.

  As they always did when the weather was bad,

  Sparhawk's thoughts drifted back to the years he had

  spent in the sun-blasted city of Jiroch on the arid north

  coast of Render where the women, all veiled and robed

  in black, went to the well in the steely first light of day

  and where the woman named lillias had consumed his

  nights with what she chose to call love. He did not,

  however, remember that night in Cippria when Martel's

  assassins had quite nearly spilled out his life. He had

  settled that score with Martel in the Temple of Azash in

  Zemoch, so there was no real purpose in remembering

  the stockyard of' Cippria nor the sound of the monastery

  beLs which had called to him out of the darkness
.

  That momentary sense of being watched, the sense

  that had come over him in the narrow street while he

  had been on his way to the palace still nagged' at him.

  Something he did not understand was going on, and

  he fervently wished that he could talk with Sephrenia

  about it.

  CHAPTER 2

  'Your Majesty,' the Earl of Lenda protested, 'you can't address this kind

  of language to the Archprelate.' Lenda was staring with chagrin at the

  piece of paper the queen had just handed him. 'You've done everything but

  accuse him of being a thief and a scoundrel.'

  'Oh, did I leave those out?'

  she asked. 'How careless of me.' They were meeting in the blue-carpeted

  council chamber as they usually did at this time of the morning. 'Can't

  you do something with her, Sparhawk?' Lenda pleaded. 'Oh, Lenda,' Ehlana

  laughed, smiling at the frail old man, 'that's only a draft. I was a

  little irritated when I scribbled it down.'

  'A little?'

  "I know we can't send the letter in its present form, my Lord. I just

  wanted you to know how I really felt about the matter before we rephrase it

  and couch it in diplomatic language. My whole point is that Dolmant's

  beginning to overstep his bounds. He's the Archprelate, not the emperor.

  The Church has too much authority over temporal affairs already, and, if

  someone doesn't bring Dolmant up short, every monarch in Eosia will become

  little more than his vassal. I'm sorry gentlemen. I'm a true daughter of

  the Church, but I won't kneel to Dolmant and receive my crown back from him

  in some contrived little ceremony that has no purpose other than my

  humiliation.' ' Sparhawk was a bit surprised at his wife's political

  maturity. The power structure on the Eosian Continent had always depended

  on a rather delicate balance between the authority of the Church and the

  power of the various kings. When that balance was disturbed, things went

  awry. 'Her Majesty's point may be welltaken, Lenda,' he said thoughtfully.

  'The Eosian monarchies haven't been very strong for the last generation or

  so. Aldreas was -' He groped for a word. 'inept,' his wife coolly

  characterised her own father. "I might not have gone quite that far,' he

  murmured. 'Wargun's erratic, Saros is a religious hysteric, Obler's old,

  and Friedahl reigns only at the sufferance of his barons. Dregos lets his

  relatives make all his decisions, King Brtsant of Cammorta is a voluptuary