Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 10

The wizards of Ildakar welcomed the outside visitors with a fine celebration.

After centuries of reading about the mythical city from ages past, Nathan reveled in being here in person, in walking through the spiraling streets, seeing the terraced gardens, the whitewashed buildings, the enameled roofs, and the magnificent high towers. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he hadn’t fallen into some kind of trance.

But his interest in the glories of Ildakar was more than just academic. He also held on to a hope that the solution lay here, a hope that had blossomed inside him as soon as he glimpsed the metropolis from the giddy heights of Kol Adair.

From there, the Wizard will behold what he needs to make himself whole again.

Now he knew what that meant. Nathan felt sure this place was where he needed to be, that the legendary, gifted wizards could help restore him, make him whole.

“There is no better reason for a grand banquet.” Wizard Commander Maxim raised his voice and shouted loudly enough in the throne hall to startle Thora’s caged larks. “Summon the cooks! Slaughter a fresh yaxen. Command the bakers to do their finest. We shall have a feast!” Maxim flashed a quick sarcastic glance at the sovrena’s icy demeanor. “As you can see, my wife can barely contain her excitement.”

Thora ran her hands down the blue dress that clung like oil to her body. “Ildakar will defend against all enemies from within and without, but we are warm and kind to our friends.”

High Captain Avery stood next to the sovrena, and Nathan noted that he showed a distinct fondness toward her. Although he was supposedly the military captain for the entire city, Avery seemed much more interested in protecting the coldly beautiful woman.

Servants came forward, eyes downcast, voices muted. Under orders, they ushered Nathan, Nicci, and Bannon out of the ruling tower and across the top of the plateau toward a large, ostentatious villa.

“This is the mansion of the wizard commander and the sovrena,” said one of the servants, a man whose demeanor was like a walking sigh. “You will each have a guest room where you can wash and change into fresh garments, which we will provide. The banquet will commence in an hour.” The man smiled politely, but without warmth. “I hope you are hungry.”

When his stomach growled, Nathan decided he was also in the mood for a feast. He was anxious to describe his problem, to ask the wizards for their help restoring his gift, so that he could use powerful magic again.…

“An hour?” Bannon said. “A banquet that grand should take days to prepare.”

The servant’s eyes narrowed, showing crow’s-feet at the edges. “It should, but the council members will not wish to wait. As they have commanded, so we will provide.”

The grand villa was an enormous structure adorned with elaborate flourishes. Marble columns veined with red and gold stood tall, their ornate capitals engraved with prevalent spell runes. Purple banners hung down, displaying the sun-and-lightning-bolt symbol of Ildakar.

After the servants took Bannon and Nicci to their respective rooms, Nathan looked around his own chamber at the spacious bed, the gauzy hangings across the open windows, flowerpots filled with scarlet snapdragons and a blush of geraniums that tumbled over the rail of the open balcony. A reflective basin of water hung on the wall, a hemispherical bowl for washing.

When he dipped his hands in, Nathan shattered the reflection that stared back at him. Travel dust encrusted his face, and his long hair was stringier than usual. He washed quickly and inspected the garments the servants had laid out for him. It would feel so good to enjoy civilized finery again.

An hour later, refreshed and wearing clean clothes in the Ildakaran style, Nathan Rahl felt like a new man again, though still not a wizard. His borrowed robe was made of heavy silk, a deep emerald green trimmed with copper on the cuffs and hem. It was an entirely different look than his dashing travel clothes, but at least the robe was fresh.

He straightened his damp hair with the tortoiseshell comb he had found among the debris after their shipwreck on the Phantom Coast. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that his hair had grown long enough that he could tie it in back with a ribbon. Finding no mirrors to assess his appearance, he looked at his reflection in the wall basin and decided that he was once again appropriately handsome. He cut a dashing figure, as befitted the roving ambassador for D’Hara.

When he joined Nicci and Bannon in the hall outside the banquet chamber, he saw that the young swordsman had also washed and put on a new maroon tunic, a black sash, and loose brown pantaloons, which he wore awkwardly.

Nicci had been offered fine garments herself, but she had chosen to launder her black traveling dress, then dried it using her gift. Although it was a different cut from the more flowing Ildakaran fashion, Nicci remained strikingly beautiful with her blond hair brushed and pinned back. She wore no jewelry, despite the many options her hosts had offered her. She didn’t seem to need it.

“You look glamorous just as you are, Sorceress,” Nathan said.

She looked at him, raised her eyebrows. “My intent is not to be glamorous, but to engender respect.”

“Indeed, and your glamour and beauty engender a great deal of respect.”

“Then I also hope I can help you achieve what you need here, Wizard. We would be glad to have you back in fine form.” She turned, following the servants into the villa’s banquet hall. He knew that Nicci had never been comfortable receiving compliments, nor did she often give them.

Bannon was smiling as he tagged along. “I’ve never been to a city like this. And a banquet with royalty! Sweet Sea Mother, I wish I could tell everyone back on Chiriya.”

“And who exactly would you tell? I thought you didn’t have anyone left on your island.” Nathan did not think about the pain that his comment would cause.

The young man’s expression fell. Back on Chiriya Island, his father had been terribly abusive, had beaten Bannon’s mother to death. Bannon’s boyhood friend Ian had been seized by Norukai raiders, leaving the young man to deal with the guilt of escaping. No, reminding him about his island home did not bring fond memories.

Deeply apologetic, Nathan squeezed Bannon’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, my boy. We are off to see the world as you wished, and Ildakar is our most important destination. We’ll enjoy it together.”

Bannon re-formed his bright expression. “Yes, we will.”

The three of them entered the enormous banquet hall, a broad chamber with open ceilings and dangling vines of morning glories that drooped from an open ceiling. Lavish bouquets filled pots every five feet along the banquet table. Another golden songbird cage hung on a stand behind the seat reserved for the sovrena. The larks flitted about within their confinement, and a few deigned to sing.

When Nathan looked at the extravagant food spread out, his stomach growled again. In the middle of a table sat a sizzling rack of herb-encrusted meat that dripped juices onto an oval basin. Baskets held knotted breads studded with berries and dried fruits, like jewels embedded in gold. Bowls were piled high with sliced fruits and curdled puddings; other serving dishes held roasted potatoes and colorful root vegetables slathered with melting butter. Servants bustled about like ants from a stirred-up colony.

While Thora and Maxim sat at the head of the table and High Captain Avery stood at attention nearby, the six duma members were spaced along each side of the table. Nathan was surprised to find Amos and his two young companions also joining them for the banquet. Seeing the three young men, Bannon smiled in greeting, then looked uncertain when they didn’t seem to notice him.

Elsa, the matronly member of the wizards’ duma, sat wearing an ornate lacy gray shawl and a silver dress around her sturdy frame. She looked up at Nathan and indicated the empty seat next to her. “Wizard, would you join me? The chair beside the wizard commander is reserved for the sorceress Nicci.”

“I would be delighted to, my dear,” Nathan said, taking the seat.

Elsa was a woman who would be labeled “handsome” rather than beautiful. She reminded him of the prelate Annalina Aldurren, with whom he had spent so much time after they had concocted their escape from the Palace of the Prophets. Ann had been an interesting, if often frustrating, traveling companion, but he had grown tremendously fond of her. He felt saddened to recall that the Sisters of the Dark had killed her, but as a result of living for a thousand years, losing friends and acquaintances was just something he had to accept.

He fashioned a smile for Elsa and adjusted himself, tugging a slick wrinkle from his green robe. “Delicious aromas, as well as fine company.”

“Ildakar must do its best,” Sovrena Thora said. “We are anxious to hear where you come from—and why you are here.”

Nicci sat upright next to Maxim, looking fine in her black dress. The plate before her was empty, while the duma members waited to be served by the hovering servants. A tall man with long arms reached over with a curved knife, slicing hunks of the dripping, savory meat from the large roast. He deposited a piece onto Nicci’s plate before serving Nathan and then Bannon.

“The roast yaxen is marvelous, a true specialty of our city,” said Maxim, smacking his lips.

“Give me a slice of the rarest part,” grumbled Ivan from his seat.

Beside him, the wizard Andre explained, “Yaxen are specifically bred to yield the most delicious flesh. We have been meticulous with our breeding over fifteen hundred years of confinement, hmmm? Each morsel will melt in your mouth.” He raised his plate to accept a portion from the roast.

Not particularly interested in the food, Nicci said in a businesslike voice, “We’ve come from D’Hara, where Lord Richard Rahl defeated the resurrected Sulachan, and before that, Jagang and the Imperial Order. After Lord Rahl’s victory, we come to the Old World to describe his new peace and to ensure that there are no further tyrants.”

Nathan dabbed a napkin at his lips as he raised his voice. “We’ve come for personal reasons as well. We believe a witch woman guided us here.” He pulled his life book from the leather pouch he always carried at his side. “This is what set us on our course,” he said, and read aloud the words that were written there.

“Future and Fate depend on both the journey and the destination.

Kol Adair lies far to the south in the Old World. From there, the Wizard will behold what he needs to make himself whole again. And the Sorceress must save the world.”

He smiled at them. “We saw your city from the mountain pass exactly as these words predicted, so we think someone here may be able to help make me whole again.”

Andre looked him up and down. “And what part are you missing right now, hmmm?”

Nathan fidgeted with sudden uncertainty when it came time to actually explain his weakness, his failing. He coughed briefly into his hand. “I recently lost my gift of prophecy—which was not a terrible thing, if you ask me. But something else also changed inside of me. I seem to have a little problem.” He swallowed, then covered it with a nervous smile. “Back in D’Hara, I was a great wizard and a prophet, but when prophecy was banished beyond the veil to the underworld, that gift was somehow interconnected with my gift of magic. It has … unraveled, and I am unable to use magic. When I did attempt to cast a spell, the consequences were…” He fluttered his hands. “Let’s just say, they were remarkable and unpredictable.”

Maxim waved a hand. “None of us has been concerned with prophecy for centuries. Being cut off from the flow of time by the shroud, we are not bothered by predictions and portents. We have had no prophets since the great war … and we have not missed them.”

The dark-skinned wizard Quentin picked up a raisin-studded roll, inspected it, then spoke to Nathan as he reached for the butter. “That makes no sense. The gift is intrinsic to a person.” He had a cloud of gray hair like smoke that clung to his head.

“He hasn’t just lost his gift of prophecy.” Thora gave a sidelong frown to her husband. “He’s lost his gift entirely. How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Nathan said. “That’s why we’ve come here, following the witch woman’s clues. Someone in Ildakar must have the answer.” He looked around the banquet hall. “Someone? Anyone?”

“That’s quite worrisome,” said Renn, smacking his lips and dabbing juice from his mouth, but a drip fell on his maroon robes. He was a portly man with more than his share of chins. “We all have the gift, every one of us.” He blinked with sudden anxiety. “And if you could lose your abilities, Wizard Nathan, then perhaps we could, too. What if it’s contagious? Like a fever?”

Nicci looked around the table. “I have traveled with him for some time, and my gift remains unaffected.”

Andre sat up, his brow furrowing deeply. “This bears further investigation. Wizard Nathan will be an interesting subject.”

“We should call him the former Wizard Nathan,” Thora said. “In Ildakar, those who possess the gift receive certain privileges. If this wizard is impotent, then we shall have to withhold judgment.”

Andre leaned over the table, studying Nathan like an unusual specimen. “I have many analytical spells, hmmm? We’ll have to run tests, sample your blood.”

Elsa explained to Nathan, “Andre is the greatest fleshmancer in Ildakar. His prowess is legendary.”

Andre took a bite of the juicy meat, speaking as he chewed. “Centuries ago, I helped create the yaxen, for example. It is because of my work that they are so delicious.”

Bannon looked up, curious. “What’s a fleshmancer?”

Andre stroked the thick braid of beard protruding from his chin. “I am one who can manipulate and change living things.”

Ivan added, “He’s developed many interesting creations over the years. We use them in the arena.”

With a chill, Nathan thought of the horrific combat bear that had attacked them in the hills. Any man who could create such a thing …

Thora spoke up. “Wizard Renn’s concerns are legitimate. If a gifted person can lose magic, we need to know why. Is our own magic at risk? We need to solve the problem.” She nodded to the fleshmancer. “You have our blessing, Andre … and you have your orders. Study this man.”

The fleshmancer’s gray eyes sparkled. “I would have done it anyway.” He quickly looked at Nicci. “But you still have your powers, Sorceress? Unaffected, as you claim?”

Maxim leaned closer to her and added, “You exude beauty, but I don’t believe that is caused by magic.”

“This is who I am,” Nicci said. “And yes, my gift is still strong within me.”

“How wonderful,” Maxim said. “The class system in Ildakar is dependent upon a person’s gift. Those of us from the noble ruling class have the most powerful gift, as is natural. The merchants and craftsmen have at least some hint of the gift, but few powers. And those unfortunates who possess no known abilities serve us as slaves. There’s not much else the poor things can do.”

“I … I don’t have any ability with the gift,” Bannon said.

“You’re our guest,” Amos interjected, seeming to notice Bannon for the first time during the meal. “Don’t worry about it.”

Beside him, Brock added, “If you can use that sword, you’ve got a different sort of skill.”

Bannon blushed. “I can use it.”

Nicci showed little appetite for her food. “We can’t deny that your city is impressive in many ways. Perhaps Ildakar could become a southern capital of the D’Haran Empire.”

Nathan said, “Lord Rahl has been consolidating the war-torn lands, giving the people freedom and new hope to live their lives as they choose. With the D’Haran army and Lord Rahl’s wise rule, we could help you a great deal.”

Maxim twirled his spoon in a crusted pudding and pulled out a mouthful, which he tasted. “We know nothing about your D’Haran Empire.”

“Empires rise and fall with a sad monotony,” Thora said. “We’ve had enough of emperors. We want nothing like that here in our free city of Ildakar.”

Nicci gave them a skeptical look. “Free city? You two seem like emperors yourselves.”

“Nothing of the sort,” said Maxim, too quickly.

Ivan grumbled, “A little late for that. We might have benefited from an alliance many centuries ago, but we’ve solved our own problem.”

“Chief Handler Ivan speaks the truth,” Maxim added. “We could have welcomed your Lord Rahl’s help when our city was first besieged by General Utros, but we took care of him with our own magic.” He looked across the long table at Nicci. “And you are supposed to save the world, Sorceress? I applaud such a goal! But we’ve already saved ourselves. Ildakar is fine now.”

“Ildakar is our perfect society,” Thora said again.

Nicci interjected soberly, “That may be so, but I have never found a perfect society that didn’t need saving.”