‘Bhelliom,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Or at least that’s how everyone saw it. We know differently now.’
‘Truly,’ she agreed. ‘Zalasta did share the common misperception of the jewel, thinking it to be a source of power only. He did believe that Bhelliom, untouched by morality, would obey him without question, and that it would destroy his mortal enemy and thus he could come to possess his heart’s lust – for mistake me not, Zalasta sought possession of Sephrenia, not her love.’
‘That’s vile,’ Baroness Melidere said with a shudder.
Xanetia nodded her agreement. ‘Zalasta knew that he must needs have the rings to command the Sapphire Rose,’ she went on, ‘but all of Styricum knew that the nimble Child Goddess herself had purloined the rings from Ghwerig the Troll-dwarf to prevent the misshapen creature from raising Bhelliom ‘gainst the Styrics. Thus did Zalasta feign continuing friendship for Sephrenia and her sister, hoping to gain knowledge of the location of the rings and thus the keys to Bhelliom. Now the Gods had known, and some few humans as well, that one day Bhelliom’s creature Anakha would appear, and by diverse signs and auguries did they divine that he would be born of the house of Sparhawk.
‘Aphrael was wary, for she knew that the house of Sparhawk was Elene, and Elenes are not kindly disposed toward Styricum. She knew, however, that one day Anakha would come, and that he would raise Bhelliom from the place where it had lain hidden and wield it to his own purposes – and to the purposes of Bhelliom itself. She was troubled by this, for should Anakha share the common Elene despite of Styricum, might he raise the jewel against her worshipers. She sought to diminish that peril by separating the rings, placing one in the hands of Anakha’s ancestor and the other elsewhere, so that when the one ring descended to Anakha, she might examine his heart and mind to determine whether it be safe to place both rings in his possession.’
‘Stories are more exciting when you know the people involved, aren’t they?’ Talen noted, filling his plate for the third time. Talen was growing again, and he ate almost constantly. He did, however, remember his manners well enough to take a plate of sliced fruit and a glass of milk to Xanetia before he sat down to gorge himself.
Sparhawk phrased his question carefully. ‘I seem to remember that you once told me that you can’t hear the thoughts of the Gods, Anarae. How is it that you know what Aphrael was thinking?’
‘It is true that the thoughts of the Gods are veiled from me, Anakha, but Aphrael hath few secrets from her sister, and it is from Sephrenia’s memories that I have gleaned what I have told ye.
‘Now,’ she went on with her account, ‘Anakha’s ancestor was a Pandion Knight dwelling with his brethren in the mother-house of his order in the city of Demos in Elenia, and joined he in the war of the rash young king Antor against certain rebellious barons. And it came to pass that the knight and the king, separated from their companions, lay sorely wounded on the bloody field of battle. As darkness fell upon that field, did Sephrenia of Ylara, commanded by her sister, come reluctantly to bind their wounds and to deliver up the rings – one to each of them. She did conceal the true import of the rings, advising them that they were but tokens of their friendship, and by means of a Styric spell did she stain the rings with the mingled blood of the wounded pair to conceal their true nature and import. Thus did she bind the two houses together, which binding did prepare the way for the union of Anakha and his queen.’
Ehlana beamed smugly at her husband. ‘I told you so,’ she said.
‘I didn’t quite follow that.’
‘I told you that we were destined to marry. Why did you keep arguing with me?’
‘It seemed like the thing to do. I was fairly sure you could have done better.’ It was a slightly flippant reply, and it concealed his shocked surprise. Aphrael was absolutely ruthless in her manipulation of people’s lives. Anakha was Bhelliom’s creature, and the Child Goddess, not certain she could trust him, had deliberately arranged to be born as his daughter so that she could in some measure control him.
‘Now Zalasta, perceiving the intent of Aphrael, was troubled,’ Xanetia went on. ‘He had hoped to wrest Bhelliom from Anakha before Anakha could come to know the full import of his union with the stone, but Aphrael had once again blocked his design. By virtue of the rings and the mastery of Bhelliom which they conferred, had Anakha been made invincible.’
‘All right, then,’ Ulath rumbled. ‘Zalasta was blocked. What did he do then?’
‘There are some in Styricum – and have ever been – who, like the Elder Gods themselves, have used the power of the spells their race has learned to satisfy unwholesome personal desires. The Younger Gods are as children in this regard, and they cannot know the depths to which such as these will willingly sink. They are outraged by this coarser side of the nature of man, and such Styrics as display it are cast out and accursed. These unfortunates dwell alone and sorrowing in wilderness and waste, or, all unrepentant, seek they their vile pleasure in the festering stews of the cities of this world. It was to these that Zalasta in desperation turned, and in Verel, foulest of the cities of southern Daconia, found he such a one as he sought.’
‘I’ve lived in Verel,’ Mirtai said. ‘That would be the place to look for degenerates, all right.’
Xanetia nodded. ‘There in that sink of iniquity Zalasta did happen quite by chance upon one Ogerajin, a corrupt and ancient voluptuary, who, sated by centuries of excess, sinned more for the sake of the offense it gave the Younger Gods than from any real appetite. Now this Ogerajin was double-dippt in vileness, and by means of certain forbidden spells and enchantments had he reached into the darkness – yea, even into that ultimate corruption that lieth in the hearts of the Elder Gods. And Ogerajin, perceiving that Zalasta’s lust was like his own and that they were therefore kindred, counseled him to seek out Otha of Zemoch.’
Bevier gasped.
‘Truly,’ Xanetia agreed. ‘And so did Zalasta journey even unto the city of Zemoch to make alliance with Otha.’
‘Hold it,’ Kalten said. ‘Didn’t you tell us that Zalasta was trying to keep us away from Otha and Azash?’
She nodded. ‘Zalasta doth conclude alliances to further his own ends, not those of his allies. With Otha’s aid he found other outcast Styrics in Eosia to aid him in keeping watch on the family of the Sparhawks, instructing them to seek out weaknesses which might be to his advantage when Anakha was born.
‘As well ye might guess, Aphrael also set a watcher on those who would precede Sparhawk, and despite her sister’s protests, the Child Goddess sent Sephrenia to Demos to instruct the Elene Pandions in the Secrets of Styricum.’
‘Our charming little Aphrael has a heartless streak, I see,’ Stragen noted. ‘Considering what the Elene serfs in Astel did to Sephrenia’s parents, sending her to Demos smacks of a certain lack of consideration.’
‘Who can know the mind of a God?’ Xanetia sighed. She passed a weary hand across her eyes.
‘Aren’t you feeling well?’ Kalten asked, his voice mirroring his concern.
‘Some slight fatigue, Sir Kalten,’ she confessed. ‘The mind of Sephrenia was in great turmoil when I did gather in her memories, and it is with no small difficulty that I wring some consistency from them.’
‘Is that the way it works, Anarae?’ Sarabian asked curiously. ‘You just reach in and swallow somebody else’s mind whole?’
‘Thy metaphor is inexact, Sarabian of Tamuli,’ she said in a slightly reproving tone.
‘Forgive me, Anarae,’ he apologized. ‘I plucked it out of the air. What I meant to ask was whether you absorb the entire contents of another’s awareness and memories with a single touch.’
‘Approximately, yes.’
‘How many minds have you got stored away?’ Talen asked her. ‘Other people’s minds, I mean?’
‘Close on to a thousand, young master,’ she shrugged.
‘Where do you find room?’ He paused, looking just a little embarrassed. ‘I didn’t say that very well, did I? What I was trying to ask was doesn’t it get awfully crowded in there?’
‘The mind is limitless, young master.’
‘Yours might be, Anarae,’ Kalten smiled. ‘I’ve found plenty of limits to mine, though.’
‘Is Sephrenia all right?’ Vanion asked her with a worried frown.
‘She is in great agony,’ Xanetia sighed. ‘Zalasta’s treachery hath wounded her to the heart, and her mistaken belief that all of ye have forsaken her hath crushed her spirit.’
‘I’ll go to her,’ Vanion said, rising quickly to his feet.
‘No, my Lord,’ Kalten told him. ‘That wouldn’t be a good idea. You’re too close to her, and if you went, you’d only make her feel worse. Why don’t you let me go instead?’
‘It’s my place to go, Kalten.’
‘Not if it’s going to make her suffer all the more, it isn’t. Right now she needs to know that we still love her, and that means she needs somebody who’s affectionate and not very bright. That’s me, in case you hadn’t noticed.’
‘You stop that!’ Alean flared. ‘I won’t have you saying things like that about yourself!’ Then she seemed to realize that they were not alone, and she blushed and lowered her eyes in confusion.
‘He might be right, Vanion,’ Ehlana said gravely. ‘Sir Kalten may have his faults, but he’s straightforward and honest. Sephrenia knows that there’s no deviousness in his nature. He’s just too – too…’
‘Stupid?’ Kalten supplied.
‘That’s not the word I’d have chosen.’
‘It doesn’t hurt my feelings, my Queen. They don’t pay me to think – just to follow orders. When I try to think, I get into trouble, so I’ve learned to get along without thinking. I just trust my feelings instead. They don’t lead me off in the wrong direction too often. Sephrenia knows me, and she knows I couldn’t deceive her even if I tried.’
‘It’s called sincerity, my friend,’ Sparhawk smiled.
‘That’s as good a word for it as any, I suppose,’ Kalten shrugged. ‘I’ll just nip on down to her room and smother her with sincerity. That ought to make her feel better.’
‘It’s me, Sephrenia – Kalten. Unlock the door.’
‘Go away.’ Her voice was muffled.
This is important.’
‘Leave me alone.’
Kalten sighed. It was going to be one of those days. ‘Please, little mother,’ he tried again.
‘Just go away.’
‘If you don’t open the door, I’ll have to use magic on it.’
‘Magic? You?’ She laughed scornfully.
Kalten leaned back, raised his right leg and drove his booted heel against the latch. He kicked it twice more, and the door splintered and burst open.
‘What are you doing?’ she screamed at him.
‘Haven’t you ever seen Elene magic before, little mother?’ he asked her mildly. ‘We use it all the time. You don’t mind if I come in, do you?’ He stepped through the splinter-littered doorway. ‘We thought you might be a little lonesome and that maybe you needed somebody to yell at. Vanion wanted to come, but I wouldn’t let him.’
‘You? Since when have you started ordering Vanion around?’
‘I’m bigger than he is – and younger.’
‘You get out of my room!’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.’ He glanced toward her window. ‘You’ve got a nice view from here. You can see all the way down to the harbor. Shall we get started? Screaming and hitting are all right, but please don’t turn me into a toad. Alean wouldn’t like that.’
‘Who sent you here, Kalten?’
‘I already told you. It was my own idea. I wouldn’t let Vanion come because you’re upset right now. You might say something to him that you’d both regret later. You can say anything you want to me, Sephrenia. You can’t hurt my feelings.’
‘Go away!’
‘No, I won’t do that. Would you like to have me make you a nice cup of tea?’
‘Just leave me alone!’
‘I already told you no.’ Then he took her by the shoulders and enfolded her in a huge bear-hug. She struggled against him, but he was absolutely immovable. ‘Your hair smells nice,’ he noted.
She began to pound on his shoulders with her fists. ‘I hate you!’
‘No, you don’t,’ he replied calmly. ‘You couldn’t hate me even if you wanted to.’ He continued to hold her. ‘It’s been very mild this autumn, hasn’t it?’
‘Please leave me alone, Kalten.’
‘No.’
She started to cry, clutching at his doublet and burying her face in his chest. ‘I’m so ashamed!’ she wept.
‘Of what? You didn’t do anything wrong. Zalasta tricked you, that’s all. He tricked the rest of us as well, so you’re no more to blame than we are.’
‘I’ve broken Vanion’s heart!’
‘Oh, I don’t think so – not really. You know Vanion. He can endure almost anything.’
The storm of her weeping continued – which was more or less what Kalten had in mind. He pulled a handkerchief out of the sleeve of his doublet and gave it to her, still not relaxing his embrace.
‘I’ll never be able to face them again,’ she wailed.
‘Who? You mean the others? Of course you will. You made a fool of yourself, that’s all. Everybody does that now and then.’
‘How dare you!’ She began to pound on him again.
Kalten really wished she’d get past that part of it. ‘It’s true though, isn’t it?’ he said gently. ‘Nobody’s blaming you for it, but it’s true all the same. You did what you thought was right, but it turned out to be wrong. Everybody’s wrong sometimes, you know. There aren’t any perfect people.’
‘I’m so ashamed!’
‘You already said that. Are you sure you wouldn’t like a nice cup of tea?’
‘You should rest now, Anarae,’ Sarabian said solicitously. ‘I hadn’t realized how exhausting this would be for you.’
She smiled at him. ‘Thou art kind, Sarabian of Tamuli, but I am not so fragile as that. Let us proceed. It had been in the mind of Zalasta that he might by diverse inducements corrupt Anakha in his youth and thus gain access to Bhelliom without the need for perilous confrontation, but Sephrenia and Aphrael did closely attend the childhood and youth of Bhelliom’s champion, once again and all unknowingly thwarting Zalasta’s design.