Blood Trillium Read online

  “Nobody,” Korik said proudly. “They are all afraid of the icebound Aurora Sea and the sea monsters. But I am not afraid.” Then he had given Niki an intent look. “A voyage of exploration like that would cost a lot of money, but the king who sponsored it would be remembered forever. And I would bring him back rare plants and animals and other fine things—and perhaps even knowledge of some secret new ruined city of the Vanished Ones having more wondrous treasures than any yet discovered.”

  “I will sponsor the voyage!” Prince Niki had declared. But the sailor had only laughed, pointing out that the boy would not be King for years and years, since King Antar was a young man in robust good health, and by the time he got old and died, Nikalon would surely forget his promise.

  “I will not forget,” the Crown Prince had said …

  Now, as Niki stared out over the bright water toward the shore where the capital of Zinora lay, he mused over what it would be like to be a youthful king like Yondrimel of Zinora, who could commission explorations or do other great deeds. What must the King of Zinora be feeling, on the verge of being honored at his coronation by all the world’s rulers? Of course, eighteen-year-old Yondrimel was already ruler of his nation and the crown was his by right of inheritance. But the ceremony was intended to affirm his reign in the eyes of the other nations, and show them all that he was a true sovereign—not a wretched puppet like the boy-King Ledavardis of Raktum, who was nearly as old as Yondrimel but denied his throne by his powerful grandmother. King Antar had explained that the Zinoran King also hoped to make alliances at this coronation that would strengthen his throne.

  Even though he was only eleven, Prince Nikalon already understood how important alliances were. Laboruwenda had alliances with Var and the Island Principality of Engi on the Peninsula. They traded freely, and combined to fight pirates that threatened each other’s ships, and refused to give sanctuary to criminals crossing borders. King Antar and Queen Anigel hoped to make a similar alliance with King Yondrimel of Zinora. But so did Raktum, the greatest enemy of Laboruwenda, and it had already sent Yondrimel thousands of platinum crowns and many caskets of jewels as coronation presents. Niki wondered whether the young monarch of Zinora would succumb to the blandishments of the pirate Queen. She was so very rich!

  They were sailing nearer to the Raktumian flotilla now. The gilded wood on the flanks of the huge trireme flagship shone brilliantly in the sun and the hundreds of colored banners hung on its rigging made a brave show. The other three black vessels were almost as handsomely decorated. Oh, yes. Raktum was rich! Following the coronation, there was to be a tremendous banquet and lavish entertainment, and it was rumored that most of the cost was being borne by wicked Raktum.

  Niki had asked his father and mother why the other rulers did not ostracize the pirate nation. But they had only sighed and told him that great matters of state were not so simple as everyday affairs, and he would understand better when he was older.

  Somehow, Niki doubted very much that he would.

  Prince Tolivar finally tired of looking through the magic telescope while hanging uncomfortably from the scratchy rigging and had a grand idea: He would climb down and offer to let his mother borrow the wonderful toy. For some reason the Queen had seemed very sad at breakfast time, and this might cheer her up. Holding the narrow tube safely in his teeth, the little boy slid down the ladderlike web of rope, hopped onto the deck, and went dodging and skipping toward the stern. Rounding the midships saloon, he nearly ran headlong into Lord Penapat and his father the King, who were fishing. Uncle Peni’s big arms scooped him up as he tried to escape and held him high in the air, wriggling like a sucbri freshly plucked from its shell.

  “Have you seen Mother?” the little Prince asked the King. “I thought she would like to look at the other ships and at Zinora through my telescope.”

  “She is on the fantail with Lady Ellinis, working away on some official papers, as usual. You may give her the telescope, but do not stay long and distract her with your chatter.”

  “I won’t, Sire.”

  The child went galloping off, his fair hair streaming in the breeze, and bluff Penapat shook his great head fondly. “What a spirited lad. He and his royal brother and the little Princess have led the ship’s crew a merry chase on this voyage, my Liege.”

  Laughing, the King agreed. He rebaited his hook and cast it out again. Then his face darkened. “I hope we have not made a mistake bringing them to the coronation. I did not want to do so, but Anigel insisted, saying it was their duty to meet the other royals and learn to socialize with outlanders … But there is always a certain danger connected to any affair in which Raktum is involved. And it is involved very deeply in this celebration, as we know.”

  Penapat nodded in agreement. “Zoto be thanked that Queen Ganondri has only an ill-favored grandson and not a granddaughter she might marry off to Yondrimel, or their alliance would be predestined!”

  “Raktum is a long way from Zinora, so the matter is of little concrete concern to the Two Thrones, no matter how much Ganondri may sneer at us. But I still have uneasy feelings about coming here with the children.”

  Penapat rested his elbows on the rail and looked across the water to the Raktumian ships, which were now less than two cable lengths away. The small figures of the seamen and passengers on the Queen Regent’s flagship could clearly be seen gawking at the Laboruwendian flotilla.

  “Not even Queen Ganondri would be brazen enough to move on us with the royalty and nobility of seven other nations as witnesses to any outrage,” Penapat said slowly. “Nor would she chance antagonizing King Yondrimel at his very coronation by causing an incident.”

  “You are doubtless right, Peni. We should probably be more concerned that the Master of Tuzamen will be there.”

  The hulking Chamberlain uttered a surprised oath. “Tuzamen? Then it is sending a delegation after all?”

  The King nodded. “I had news from our captain before breakfast. That fast little Engian cutter that overtook us early this morning signaled that a single Tuzameni galley trails leisurely behind us. The so-called Master of Tuzamen is beyond doubt aboard. His star-ensign was flying aloft. I think we may safely conclude that an unexpected guest plans to honor young King Yondrimel with attendance at the coronation.”

  “Zoto’s Stones! This explains why Queen Anigel looked so downcast.”

  “Indeed. This bad news, following upon her hearing from the Archimage that her sister Kadiya had lost her talisman, has filled my beloved wife with foreboding. And I for one can’t blame her. She has gone so far as to remove her own talisman from its place inside the Queen’s Crown of State and hidden it more securely within her clothing. She says she will not be parted from it day or night for so long as we are in Zinora.”

  “Sire, might it be possible—in spite of the assurances of our spies to the contrary—that this Portolanus of Tuzamen is the sorcerer Orogastus returned from the dead?”

  “God have mercy on us and our people if it is so. Do you remember how the vile magician subverted my father? Changing him from a hard but honest man into a maniac driven by unholy ambition? The sorcerer insinuated himself into the position of Grand Minister of State—but I think he really intended to have himself proclaimed Voltrik’s successor after killing me. Even now, his legacy of treachery and subversion persists in the intrigues and uprisings secretly fomented by Lord Osorkon and his friends along the northern marches bordering Raktum. If the sorcerer Orogastus really does live, then Tuzamen can no longer be counted a barbarous backwater. He is sure to use his dark arts to turn it into a powerful nation—”

  “—and Queen Ganondri will link with him against us,” Penapat finished, grimly.

  “Perhaps.” Antar studied the great Raktumian galley with narrowed eyes. “But she is no fool, the Queen Regent. And she plays the game by her own rules.” The King straightened, smiled, and clapped his old friend on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Peni. A week of feasts and parties and high maneuvering and low sk
ulduggery awaits us in Taloazin. Let’s put an end to this profitless fishing and go roust out our brave lords from their gambling and drinking. I would make certain that they all have their armor well-polished and their swords sharp.”

  Queen Anigel thanked her youngest son warmly for lending her the telescope, then kissed him and commanded him to go to Immu for a bath and fresh clothes. When the lad had gone gloomily on his way, she sighed and lay the instrument aside, unused. “Tolo forgets that I have no need of such things to see afar.”

  Lady Ellinis, the Domestic Minister of the Two Thrones, looked up from the document she was studying and remarked: “Your talisman, of course, fills that function. As well as others.” She was a venerable dame of great common sense, the widow of that Lord Manoparo of the Oathed Companions who had laid down his life in futile defense of Anigel’s mother. Ellinis and her three clever sons were the courtiers closest to Anigel, as Lord Penapat and Chancellor Lampiar and Owanon the Lord Marshal were to Antar.

  Now the Queen drew forth from her simple blue gown the magical talisman called the Three-Headed Monster, and set it upon her coiffed head. Belying its fearsome name, the talisman was a tiara of bright silvery metal having six small cusps and three larger ones, wrought with designs of flowers and shells and three grotesque faces—one a Skritek howling, another an agonized human with mouth agape in agony, and the third and central face a fierce grimacing being with stylized starry rays for hair. Beneath this was embedded the faintly glowing drop of amber with a tiny fossil Black Trillium in its heart that had been her protective amulet from the moment of her birth until the time she had fulfilled her life-quest and found the talisman.

  “Shall we gaze together upon the Pirate Queen?” Anigel suggested to Ellinis. “The talisman will share its clairvoyance if I so request. Only the vision will not be a long one, as its summoning for two requires deep concentration.”

  The dark eyes of the Lady Minister sparkled with interest. “I would welcome the chance to descry Ganondri, my Liege. I have not seen her in the flesh since four years before your birth, when her late son King Ledamot wed the unfortunate Mashriya of Engi. Ganondri was a beautiful creature then, proud but retiring in demeanor. I know this latter seems incredible, given her reputation today.”

  “Take my hand,” Queen Anigel commanded. Then she closed her eyes and called upon the talisman’s magic.

  They saw a ship’s stateroom hung with costly feather tapestries of Sobrania and furnished with elegant chairs and carved chests inset with mother-of-pearl, polished coral, and semiprecious stones. Some of the coffers were open, spilling costly garments onto the thickly carpeted floor. The Queen Regent sat at a lacquered dressing table with a mounted gilt mirror, frowning impatiently as she tried on necklaces handed her one after another by a timorous lady-in-waiting. Anigel and Ellinis did not hear the Queen or her companion speak, for the vision came only to their mind’s eye.

  In her old age Ganondri was still a handsome woman, although her gaunt face was seamed by a network of tiny lines and excessively painted with cosmetics. Her mouth was tight set in a peevish purse and her eyes, fringed by long lashes, were green and glittered with malice. Her hair, still abundant and dressed in the overintricate style favored by the women of semibarbarous Raktum, was the pale red of freshly scoured copper, shot through with dramatic white streaks. She wore a gown of sea-green tissue velvet, embroidered with threads of precious metal and edged with rare golden worram fur.

  After discarding half a dozen gorgeous pieces of jewelry and mouthing what might have been impatient curses, Ganondri seemed to decide upon a heavy collar of golden gonda-leaves all inset with hundreds of emeralds, with diamonds scattered here and there in imitation of dewdrops. The quaking lady-in-waiting then offered her large pendant earrings to match, but the Queen refused them curtly and took instead smaller ear-studs of gold with a single diamond each.

  At this point Anigel let go of Ellinis’s hand and the vision that they shared dissolved.

  “Ganondri’s taste in jewelry remains exquisite,” Ellinis remarked in an arch tone, “but I would not care to meet her alone and unarmed in a dark corner of Taloazin Castle. She looked ready to devour her poor handmaid, should the girl offer one more unsuitable necklace.”

  Anigel was somber. “She is a formidable enemy of our nation whether her temper be good or ill, and she has incited much mischief along our northern frontier. I wonder if young Yondrimel will be foolish enough to trust her?”

  “If he does, Madam, he may learn the lesson of the simpleton who thought he could safely roast sausages over the volcano!”

  Anigel sighed and gathered up the papers she had finished with. “I beg you to take these to Lord Lampiar for me, Elli. Remind him that Antar and I have yet to sign a message of felicitation that must accompany our gifts to Yondrimel. If the scribe has not finished drawing it up, he must be made to hasten. The presents must be sent on ahead of our party as soon as we dock in Taloazin.”

  Ellinis rose and collected her own work, as well as that of the Queen. It was clear to her that Anigel was troubled and deeply depressed at the prospect of the upcoming visit. She laid a gentle hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “Shall I send Sharice with some sweet wine and wafers to refresh you?”

  “Thank you, but no. I must think over certain matters with a clear head.”

  The old dame smiled sympathetically. “Do not think me tiresome, Madam—but I must urge you to take time before our landing to freshen yourself and put on fine robes.”

  “Yes, yes,” said Anigel impatiently. “I will not disgrace our nation by appearing a royal frump.”

  “You would be radiantly beautiful if you appeared in a tattered shift,” Ellinis said, unquelled. “But our people would be disappointed, and our foes would rejoice.” She bowed and departed, leaving the Queen alone at the little table beneath the striped awning.

  No seamen or other persons were visible from this part of the fantail. The wind had dropped off almost completely once they had rounded the headland, and now two great banks of oars propelled the Laboruwendian galley through the calm Bay of Pearls. The other ships were also using their oars, and the Raktumian trireme and its three accompanying vessels had pulled far ahead.

  “And what of the Tuzameni?” Anigel asked herself. Again she closed her eyes and commanded the talisman. This time the vision was much broader in compass and included all natural sounds. She seemed to be a seabird skimming the waves as she approached a solitary four-masted vessel painted white. Its snowy greatsails bore no device, but atop the mainmast flew a black banner with a multirayed silver star.

  “Show me Portolanus!” Anigel besought her talisman. The vision focused on the quarterdeck of the Tuzameni ship, where the captain and several officers were grouped behind the helmsman.

  In the midst of the officers was a blurred shape having the contours of a man.

  “Show me Orogastus!”

  The ship image faded—but what took its place was a chaotic whirlpool composed of different shades of gray. As Anigel exclaimed in frustration this began to brighten and shrink until at last there was only a single dazzling spark of white light, which blinked and went out.

  “Show me Kadiya.”

  Another ship, this one a fast merchant-trader flying the flag of Var. It was fast approaching the dingy little Zinoran port of Kurzwe, which lay some four hundred leagues west of the capital, Taloazin. Kadiya was lying prone along the bowsprit, holding a rope with but a single hand, while the sea rushed by many ells beneath her. Viewed from a nearer vantage point, Kadiya looked more like a poor castaway than the indomitable Lady of the Eyes. She wore a salt-stained leather gambeson and her hair was uncombed and stringy from sea-spray. But her swollen eyes and the runnels of moisture on her cheeks were not a consequent of spray, and Anigel’s heart nearly broke as she commiserated with her forlorn sister.

  Poor Kadi! She was the most fiery and courageous of the three of them—never vacillating or doubting her own abilities like
Haramis, never preoccupied with work or stodgy like Anigel herself. It was true that Kadiya often proposed overly simple solutions to difficult problems, and that she sometimes let her temper get the better of her. But no human being loved the aborigines more, nor stood ready to lay down her life for them if it were necessary.

  And now she was humiliated by the loss of her talisman, in despair as she faced the prospect of returning to the dangerous islands with companions who were brave, but knew almost nothing of sailing or survival in a maritime clime. Unable to communicate with her sisters yet certain that they had discovered her terrible loss, she did not know that Anigel and Haramis had already worked out a scheme for retrieving the lost talisman once the coronation was over and done with.

  Have courage, dear Kadi! Hara and I will help you recover your Three-Lobed Burning Eye.

  Did the dejected figure lift its head? Did her face lighten? Was it possible that she heard? Anigel prayed that it were so. Kadiya wiped her eyes and hauled herself up, so that she straddled the bowsprit instead of lying perilously along it. Her tears stopped flowing and a new thoughtful expression came upon her countenance.

  Yes, Kadi, yes! Remember that we are Three and we are One!

  Then Anigel commanded her talisman a final time: “Show me Haramis.”

  Lifting her head from a great chart she studied in her library, the Archimage looked at her youngest triplet sister and smiled.

  “Feeling woeful, Ani?”

  “I confess I have just been descrying Kadiya, and the vision of her bitter remorse pierced me to the heart. I hope that you are right—that my own talisman, taken to the place where hers sank into the sea, will command the Three-Lobed Burning Eye to return to its mistress’s hand.”

  “All will be well,” said the Archimage. “Our sister did not lose her talisman through carelessness but only through misadventure. No guilt attaches to her, and the magic that infuses her talisman and bonds it to her remains intact.”

  “Still,” Anigel said, “I feel uneasy not going after it at once.”