Shroud of Eternity

CHAPTER 8

The high pillar of stone rose up from the edge of the sandstone plateau like the tusk of some ancient beast. Serpentine loops and lines carved into the tower’s outer walls formed an intricate web that spiraled up to the pinnacle that overlooked the residential district and winding streets below.

Nathan stared up at the sheer face of the tower. “Dear spirits, that’s a web—a protective spell constructed into the tower. This place must be impregnable.”

“It is said to be,” Avery replied. “But it has not been tested, since no one ever breached the outer walls of Ildakar.”

The broad summit of the plateau was populated with numerous palatial buildings, villas, and an imposing pyramid adorned with curved metal devices; Nicci wondered if the stair-stepped structure might be an astronomical observatory.

They had a breathtaking view of the city below, with terraced fields and hanging gardens, fountains and reservoirs, glittering cisterns and enamel-painted tile roofs that spread out like a rainbow across the buildings far below.

“I am impressed with these defenses,” Nicci said. “A city endures if its people remember that there are always others who wish to destroy it.”

Avery stepped through the curved arch of the tower’s entrance, and they followed him inside. Nicci felt the temperature drop by several degrees. Bannon wiped perspiration from his brow, smearing his long ginger hair out of the way. “It’s much cooler in here.”

“The wizards keep it that way,” Avery said. “Note the glyphs on the walls.”

The strange designs carved into the interior stone blocks emanated magic, and Nicci realized these were concentration points of a passive spell. “Transference magic?”

Nathan nodded. “Yes, the glyphs drain excess heat from the air and channel it elsewhere, possibly to kitchens or fireplaces.”

Avery did not offer his opinion as he led them deeper inside to a dominant central staircase, a cascade of steps hewn out of variegated stone, green-veined granite, white and black marble. The ornamental balustrades were carved like eels looping down the staircase.

The stairs led up to a landing, then another flight of stairs, then a third landing higher in the tower. At the third landing, the stairs opened up into a wide receiving room. As she followed the guard captain, Nicci instinctively understood the psychology of the construction. Jagang had taught her much when he built so many enormous structures as he swept over the land. The steep stairs, the several landings, and finally the open gallery into a grandiose main room—the architecture was designed to delay supplicants, to leave them flushed and breathless by the time they faced the powerful rulers.

But Nicci refused to tremble when she met the leaders of Ildakar, whoever they were.

Inside the great chamber, slanted sunlight shone through high arched windows that dominated one of the side walls. The view through the thin panes of clear glass showed the sprawling city far below.

Avery’s boots made loud noises as he strode across blue marble tiles that were polished to such a sheen they looked like puddles of water. Like an island above the lake of blue marble, a raised dais featured two ornate and imposing chairs, on which sat a man and a woman. At each side of the main floor, two curved marble tables with empty stone benches were reserved for more council members, three or four on each side.

Avery stepped up to the raised dais and dropped to one knee. His fur-lined cape spread out across his shoulders and back. “Sovrena Thora, Wizard Commander Maxim, I bring you visitors from beyond the shroud, from a distant land called D’Hara.”

Sovrena Thora was a tall, willowy woman so beautiful she seemed to be made of porcelain. She had a narrow chin, a rosebud mouth, and haunting sea-green eyes. Her lustrous hair was like threads of polished brass done up in intricate loops and whorls. Her fine gown of sky-blue silk was trimmed with bands of striped gray fur. The dress hung in a rippling band from her left shoulder, wrapped around her ample breasts; reaching her narrow waist, the fabric became a waterfall of skirts that draped over her bent knees and down to her ankles.

On either side of her chair hung two gold-wire cages that held flitting, chirping songbirds, but Thora seemed to pay no attention to the scattered birdsong.

Next to her sat a handsome man of average build, presumably Wizard Commander Maxim. He had short brown hair, dark eyebrows, and a dark goatee. Wearing an impish smile, he lounged back in his throne, one knee crossed over the other. His black pantaloons seemed woven from obsidian fiber rather than silk. His shirt was open, and an amethyst pendant hung from a gold chain around his throat to nest among the dark curls of his chest hair.

Drawing upon her promises to Richard, Nicci took charge and stepped forward, head held high. She summoned the presence of her personality as she faced the two leaders, refusing to bow as High Captain Avery had. “We’ve heard of this legendary city, and we come with the news of Lord Rahl and the golden age he will bring to the world.”

Thora sat ramrod straight and looked directly at Nicci, ignoring Nathan and Bannon, and spoke in a strong, husky voice. “We welcome you, but Ildakar is independent. We have little interest in the outside world.”

“Even though the outside world always had interest in us,” Maxim interjected, cocking a grin. “My dear Thora possesses no curiosity.” He rose from the throne in a fluid, catlike movement, stepping toward Nicci. “Welcome to Ildakar. We are always eager to meet intrepid explorers from the hostile world outside of our protective bubble.” He waved his left hand to indicate generalized but unidentified lands beyond the boundaries of the city.

While Bannon hung back, clearly out of his depth, Nathan followed Nicci’s lead. The former wizard fluffed the front of his ruffled shirt, adjusted his own cape, and tried to make himself presentable. He broke in, smiling. “We have much knowledge to share, and we can benefit greatly from one another.” He brushed back his long hair, seeming oddly uncertain, even nervous. Nicci knew how badly he wanted answers.

Gathering his courage, Bannon stepped up to join Nicci and Nathan. Before she could caution him to remain silent, the young man blurted out, “We saw your city from Kol Adair. We came from over the mountains. I am from Chiriya Island. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Islands are in the sea,” Sovrena Thora said. “And the sea is far from here, miles downriver and beyond the estuary.”

“Then perhaps we should know more about it, my dear,” said Maxim. “Knowledge equals power.”

“We have enough power,” Thora said.

“Never enough power.”

“You two must be married,” Nathan pointed out, striking a light tone. “Is that true?”

“For nearly two thousand years,” Maxim said, “even before General Utros came to lay siege to the city.”

Thora’s icy expression indicated that she had stopped counting the years of marriage long ago, and simply endured.

The doors opened on the side of the receiving room, and six wizards hurried in, gifted men and a woman wearing robes and amulets, carrying staffs or other obvious trappings of their position. High Captain Avery rose to his feet and stepped back. “The wizards’ duma has arrived.”

Still sitting on her throne, Thora said, “Thank you for summoning them, Captain. The duma members should hear what these guests have to say.” She paused. “In case any of it is relevant.”

Wizard Commander Maxim strolled down from the dais and crossed the blue marble floor to the long stone tables as the other six wizards took their seats. He swept his hands out in a grand gesture, looking back at the guests. “Allow me to introduce the other primary wizards of Ildakar—Damon, Elsa, Quentin, Ivan, Andre, and Renn.”

Nathan gave a brief respectful bow, but he raised his eyebrows in a question. “An even number of voters on a council? You must all be in agreement.”

“They are,” Thora said.

“We used to have an odd number, but one sorceress decided to challenge the sovrena. Very unwise.” Maxim stroked his dark goatee. “And as you see, she lost her bid. Poor Lani.” He indicated a white statue standing on display opposite the wall of windows—a tall, regal-looking woman whose hair was in ringlets, all preserved in stone. Her face looked angry, her hand outstretched, her fingers curled as if about to release a spell. But she had been petrified in place.

“That happened a century ago,” Thora said. “No one has challenged me since.”

“We have done just fine without Lani, hmmm?” said the wizard named Andre. He had a shaved head and a gray-brown beard tightly braided like a thick brush that protruded from the point of his chin. “We have our own work in Ildakar, each of us with our special areas of expertise.”

Nicci looked from Maxim to Thora, noting the icy, invisible curtain that seemed to hang between them. She couldn’t help but contrast this coldness with the depthless love that Richard and Kahlan had for each other. The sovrena and the wizard commander clearly had no such bond, at least not anymore.

“Fifteen centuries of peace,” mused Elsa, a matronly woman who wore deep purple robes. “At one time we all banded together to defend Ildakar, and we succeeded. Now we have Ildakar … exactly as it is.”

“Exactly as it is,” Thora agreed. “We preserved Ildakar. We built our own perfect society, just as we wish it to be.”

“We saw the army outside,” Nathan said. “Hundreds of thousands of warriors turned to stone. That is quite an impressive display of your magic. They’ve been here—petrified, all those centuries?”

“Challenging our city was the greatest mistake General Utros made,” said Maxim. “That fool Emperor Kurgan thought that if he had a big enough army, he could simply walk all over the world, take anything he liked.” Maxim tugged at the silk fabric of his open shirt, as if he’d grown hot in the chamber. “But as you could see, even an army so huge was no match for the wizards of Ildakar.” He strolled in front of the seated duma members. “While Iron Fang lounged in his capital and let his general do all the fighting for him, our city built up defenses that proved to be his downfall.”

Thora picked up the story, as if to upstage her husband. “General Utros brought his armies over the mountains. According to our scouts, he started with an army half a million strong, but only part of it survived to lay siege to Ildakar. But how does one feed an army of such size?”

“Or half that size, for that matter,” the wizard Damon interjected. He had shoulder-length dark hair and long drooping mustaches, each tip adorned with a pearl.

Ivan, a gruff and burly man with thick black hair and an unruly black beard, hunched at his bench, as if looking for something to break. He wore a tan jerkin of animal hide branded with strange symbols. With a sharp realization, Nicci thought the leather jerkin looked much like Mrra’s marked hide. Ivan grumbled, “We may have done them a favor by turning them to stone. We should have left them to starve out there. Or fester with disease. Let them rot and die while we laughed at them from inside the city.”

“By joining together, we defeated them with a single blow,” Thora said, still sitting in her tall chair. “We worked massive magic, unleashed power from the soul of our people. And, oh, the cost…” She looked at her husband with grudging respect. “The wizard commander was the focal point for the petrification spell. Maxim used the magic and turned them all to stone.”

He seemed immensely pleased with himself. “I was always the best sculptor in Ildakar, although my dear wife has potent magic as well—which she used against dear Lani.”

“We stopped the siege and defeated Utros’s army, but we knew more war would come,” Thora continued. “Emperor Kurgan might raise another force to get revenge, or if not Kurgan, then some other despot. We were weary of it.” The sovrena’s porcelain face grew flushed.

“We were also bored with it,” Maxim added, flashing a smile at Nicci. She stiffened. Was he flirting with her? The wizard commander continued, “So, we removed ourselves from the perilous outside world. We built the proper spell-forms throughout the walls of the city and then raised a shroud that encapsulated us in a protective reality where we have remained safe for one thousand five hundred years.” He crossed his thin arms over his open shirt.

Thora slid one slender leg over the other, rippling her sky-blue skirts. “Thus leaving us free to create our perfect society here.” She looked down at the visitors, and her smile reminded Nicci of the curve of a sharp knife.