Tetrarch

F ORTY-THREE

Only once Gilhaelith had gone did Tiaan appreciate that she was alone in a fortress full of strangers. And they were strangers, for while he was there she had been able to ignore them. She wished she had taken the trouble to get to know them at the beginning – she might have made a friend or two. Apart from Nixx, Gurteys, her mute husband Fley, Mihail and Alie, she did not know their names. Tiaan supposed that was part of the problem.

She planned to keep watch on the amplimet while he was away, but could not find it anywhere. Did he not trust it, or her?

On the first morning, Tiaan became so immersed in the disassembly of an intricate part of the thapter that she did not notice the absence of the servants. After lunch, driven by an urgent need to use the privy, she rang the bell beside the door. It was not answered, even after twenty pulls.

There was no trouble getting the walker into the privy chamber, but getting out of the machine by herself proved to be a nightmare. She ended up falling, bruising herself from shoulder to knee. This privy, no more than a squatting hole, was disgusting and using it by herself proved impossible. She ran a piece of cord from a cloak hook on the wall to the door handle and tried to hang on to that. She fell twice, ending up so soiled that it took half the water barrel to clean herself up.

Fortunately no one came by to see her in that state. Weeping with humiliation, she pulled herself into the walker and went to her room. Getting out again, she fell and bruised her other side. Too sore and worn out to heave herself into bed, Tiaan slept on the floor and swore she would overcome her disability. Never again would she endure such helplessness.

She managed to dress herself in the morning, and shortly after, Fley happened to pass by and helped her into the walker. She did not plan to get out until Gilhaelith returned.

As always, her escape was work. Tiaan kept going all day, all night and into the following day, until she could no longer keep her eyes open. At midday she went to her room, locked the door and slept in her harness. She did not use the privy again. When she simply had to urinate she did it outside, which took rather a lot of coordination.

Tiaan, woken one night by a need to relieve herself, crept the walker towards the undulating walkway. She always went that way, knowing she would not meet anyone. As she went through the front door, voices came echoing down the wall.

'… heave her, and her wretched thapter, out the window into the lake.'

Tiaan recognised the voice but could not put a face to it.

'There's a price for her, and it,' said another. It sounded like Gurteys.

'I'll not listen to that kind of talk,' snapped a third. 'Gilhaelith has looked after my family for four generations, and I'll -'

'That'll count for naught if the scrutators find it here. We'll die horribly, Iryle. Well, not me!'

'Master has been good to us.'

'And I'd risk my life for him,' said Gurteys. 'Even my family's lives, should it come to that. But I'll not risk so much as a little toe for her.'

'And if we do chance everything,' came an unknown voice, 'where's the reward?'

'Ten thousand gold tells is the price for her,' said Gurteys. 'And the same for her flying machine. Imagine that – two thousand each!'

Tiaan heard a sharp intake of breath, a door banged and the voices were cut off. She headed in the other direction, out behind the skeet houses. Ten thousand gold tells was the worth of a town. No one could resist that kind of temptation. Unable to sleep, she went the long way to the basement to work on the thapter, and made sure she had a long knife within reach at all times. Despite her efforts, the repairs were going slowly. Tiaan had begun to despair that the thapter would ever be finished. Vithis would return, search Nyriandiol and find it. And her.

The servants did not come after her – perhaps they hadn't yet found the courage to betray their master, or perhaps too many remained loyal. She knew Fley had, for she saw Gurteys abusing him outside her door. Mute Fley said nothing, but the look on his face was savage.

In the morning, Tiaan heard that Gilhaelith was coming up the mountain. She had missed him and was surprised to discover it. She now found it impossible to concentrate on her work and was constantly clacking up the ramps to see if he had arrived. The servants gave one another bitter, knowing glances.

That checked her. Her impulse had been to go flying down the hall, to show how well she could control the walker. Instead she made her face impassive, staying back until he had greeted his servants and handed them a variety of packages.

Gilhaelith turned to her. Tiaan stood where she was, rocking the walker like a boat on the sea. He seemed drawn.

'You look thin, Tiaan.'

'I've been working hard. The walker has done a lot for me. But you appear tired… Gilhaelith.' She rarely used his name and it always sounded strange.

'A long journey, and hard bargaining, and bad news at the end of it. The Aachim are preparing to move at last. I believe it means war.'

'On us?' she cried.

'On humanity! But we could well end up casualties.'

'Oh.' She moved the machine back and forth on its spindly legs, conscious that she had not had a bath in a week.

'I must make preparations for the security of Nyriandiol. How goes the thapter?'

'Slowly, though I have spent weary hours at it. It may take another week.'

'I pray we have that long. What assistance I can render is yours to command, though I have many calls on my time. Still,' he smiled tiredly, 'I'm sure we'll find a way. I'd better get started.'

Tiaan wondered if he was putting on a show for the house, for the smile did not reach his eyes and his brow was furrowed.

Late that evening he came to her room, where she sat by the bed in the walker, waiting for him. Tiaan's hands were clenched in her lap. The servants' talk about the reward had so terrified her that she had to take further steps to protect herself. She planned to do something quite foreign to her nature and was not sure how to go about it.

'You look exhausted,' she said. 'Is there more than you have said?'

'There is. The lyrinx are massing in south-west Meldorin, just across the sea from Taltid, where the scrutators have their largest army. Vithis's Aachim are moving down into Almadin. If Aachim and lyrinx unite, they will destroy an army and a civilisation.' He rose.

'G-Gilhaelith?'

He stopped with his hand on the latch. 'Yes, Tiaan?'

'Could you help me?'

'Of course. What can I do for you?'

'Could you help me to get… to get ready for bed?' She blushed.

The smile vanished. 'I'll call Gurteys.'

'No!' she cried.

'What's the matter?'

'We don't get on very well,' Tiaan said lamely.

'Sanya then.'

'Sanya?'

'The woman who helps you with your toilet.'

'She and I – don't get on either.'

'Who would you would like to attend you?' said Gilhaelith with a trace of irritation.

'I don't want to be attended by any of them,' she said, determined to get it out at last. 'They hate me.'

'They will do what they are told.' Gilhaelith strode back and forth, casting her sideways glances. 'What's the matter with…?' He seemed to be reassessing her.

'They resent me. They don't like it that you and I are together a lot. They don't want things to change, and they don't think anyone is good enough for you, least of all a cripple and a foreigner like me.'

'What do you mean good enough?'

Did he really have no idea what they were thinking? She looked into his eyes and saw that he did not. He could read strangers but was blind to his own staff. 'They think,' she said slowly, because just to say it was embarrassing, 'that we will become lovers… if we are not already. That I am after you.'

'After me?'

'And that when I get you, and become mistress of Nyriandiol, I will dismiss them and bring in my own people.'

'That's absurd. I've never had a lover. Why would I start now?'

You might have put it a bit more kindly, she thought. 'Do you really know so little about human nature? They have never seen you with a woman. Now you are constantly with me.'

'They have nothing to worry about,' he said abruptly.

She had not expected more, nor wanted it. Nonetheless, it was another rejection of her femininity. She was, after all, a cripple. Tiaan took a deep breath. The only way to protect herself was to bind him to her as tightly as possible. She could not risk him taking the servants' side. From here he could probably complete the repairs of the thapter by himself, and if he dared use the amplimet there would be no need for her. The thought made her cold inside. 'And they're afraid.'

'Of what?'

'That Vithis will come, or the scrutator, and destroy everything to get hold of the thapter. And me.'

'I can't believe my servants would do anything to harm you.'

She took a deep breath. 'Two nights back I heard Gurteys talking about the reward. Ten thousand gold tells for me and as much again for the thapter. Two thousand each, she said to the others.'

That shocked him. 'I knew about the reward, but even so… Perhaps I expect too much. I must think what to do.' He stood there, eyes closed.

Tiaan wanted to scream at him, that the time for thinking was long past. She restrained herself – he was master here. 'If you could just help me to the bath, and then into bed. I'm exhausted.'

Gilhaelith's larynx went up and down. 'But I'm a man!'

Her tiredness vanished. She had been awkward with men for so long that the idea of one being uncomfortable with her was a revelation. Minis's rejection, then her injury, had devastated her self-worth. Did Gilhaelith see her as a woman first and a cripple second?

'But while I've been away -'

'I've slept in the walker. I've not had a bath. No one would attend me in the privy.' She looked away.

'My poor Tiaan,' he said.

'I'm tired and I stink, and I'm bruised all over. I just want to bathe and go to bed.'

'But -'

'I would wear a gown in the bath,' she said. 'And you could avert your eyes. Please, Gilhaelith; I can't bear to have them near me.'

'Aren't you…? The idea…'

Could he possibly be blushing? It gave her the strength to go on. 'Customs are different where I come from,' she said. 'It was so hot near the furnaces of the manufactory that women often worked half-naked.' No matter that she never had. 'It does not bother me.' It did, but not so much as it upset him. 'Besides, you are a celibate. Why should I have any fear of you?'

The look he gave her suggested that Gilhaelith was having trouble with his vow. 'I will do as you ask, just this once. Are you ready?'

Still in the walker, she gathered her nightgown and went to the bathing room. Gilhaelith followed, grim of face.

'Would you close the door, please?' she said.

He did so, then waited until she had unbuckled the straps and pushed them aside. Gilhaelith carried her to the travertine platform at the end of the tub.

As she unbuttoned her blouse he whirled to face the wall. She took a guilty pleasure in her power to disturb him. She was using him. But then, he had been born before her great-grandfather. He'd had plenty of time to master his emotions.

Laying the dirty garments beside her, she pulled the gown over her head. 'You'll have to help me.' She indicated her frozen legs.

He came reluctantly, red in the face. She held on while he unfastened the belt and drew her baggy trousers off, looking everywhere but at her. Tiaan, nearly as embarrassed, jerked her gown down. He deposited her into the water and ran for the door.

Bathing in a gown proved to be more difficult than she had imagined, and less enjoyable. She was glad when he knocked on the door again. 'Come in,' she sang out. 'I'm ready.'

He seemed to have gained control of himself. Gilhaelith knelt by the tub, reached down and lifted her onto the platform. There they both realised what they should have been aware of from the beginning. The wet gown was quite transparent.

He stared at her, unable to help himself. He tore his gaze away a dozen times but it kept coming back. Tiaan was self-conscious, yet pleased. She was not just a crippled blob, as she had thought of herself since the accident. She was still a woman, and even Gilhaelith the celibate could see it.

'I should have brought an extra gown,' she said.

'I'll run and fetch another.'

'No matter. It's a warm night.'

'The servants -' he said with a strangled gasp.

'Do you care what they think?'

'I don't care what anyone thinks. But -' He did not go on.

'But they might think I am your lover?'

'Yes!' he choked.

'Then let them. Would you dry me?'

He did so with such fascinated reluctance that Tiaan was touched. Finally Gilhaelith carried her to her room in her damp gown, studiously avoiding looking down, helped her into a fresh one, then fled.

Tiaan lay awake for hours afterward, amazed by her boldness and thinking about the torment she had put him to. She hardened her heart. He was using her to satisfy his obsession with the great game. Why should she not use him to save her life?

It became a routine after that. He helped her dress and bathe, and took her to the privy. That was even more embarrassing, but better than being waited on by the servants who, even in his presence, could now not conceal their hostility. Gilhaelith began to teach her the nature of natural fields and the qualities of different kinds of nodes. There was so much to learn, and each day Tiaan realised how little she really knew, and how dangerous her dabblings in geomancy had been. She might have killed herself a dozen times over. Vithis must have known that. And Minis. It made her so angry she could not concentrate. How could he have pretended to love her, knowing that what he had asked her to do might destroy her?

Gilhaelith also showed her how to draw power from the field into certain crystals and blast it out again, although he had not yet let her try for herself. It could be used as a weapon, albeit a hazardous one.

Only a few more days and the thapter would be ready for testing. She prayed they had that long. And then?

What if Gilhaelith intended to take the thapter for himself? She must have her own plan and, as soon as the thapter was ready, be prepared to implement it. If Gilhaelith was lying, he might take it and cast her out, and she had to be ready to act first. Dare she steal the thapter while testing it? But what if Gilhaelith was telling the truth? She would be no better than the Aachim she so despised. Tiaan woke in the night, feeling as though she had just heard the peal of a distant bell. Odd. She'd not heard that sound here before. She wriggled in the brace but could not get comfortable. An hour later, still awake, she decided to continue her work on the thapter. Her arms were strong now and she had perfected a technique for getting in and out of the walker by herself.

She was checking the field when she noticed something strange. It seemed much more regular than usual, and was pulsing gently. She cocked her head, tracing the patterns in her inner eye. The pulsing faded. She continued, but soon heard that peal of bells again. It seemed to be calling to her.

She spidered along the hall of the lowest floor. Up the far end, where she had never been, a vague pool of light spilled from an open door. The walker's rubber feet made no sound on the stone. She reached the door and looked into a vast cavern of a room filled with organ pipes. She knew about the organ, though Gilhaelith never talked of it.

A lantern glowed among the pipes as the far end. She hesitated in the doorway. The bells hinted at something distant, long forgotten and rather sad. She went in a step or two, thinking to ask Gilhaelith about the sounds.

'Gilhaelith?' she called softly.

There was no answer, but at the distant edge of hearing there came another peal. Again a memory struggled fruitlessly to get free. Perhaps he was among the pipes. There were tens of thousands of them – a veritable forest of wood and metal. She edged forward, feeling the thudding of her heart. This was his private place and she should not be here, but the bells called to her and she had to know what they were saying.

The great room was empty, though a two-handled cup of mustard-water steamed on a pedestal next to the organ console, and beside it lay the amplimet. She picked it up. He must have just gone out. She looked around but could not see the bells. Odd. Across the room she made out a great glass sphere, slowly rotating on its stand as if on a cushion of air.

Even from two steps away she could feel the cold. Patches of feathery frost clung to its northern and southern poles, disappearing and re-forming as it turned. Tendrils of vapour drifted lazily away, rising or falling in the air. It looked like some kind of scrying sphere. Edging closer, she reached out with a fingertip, but drew back as pinpoints of light sparkled on a globe of the world, under the glass. Some specks were brighter than others and one, at Tirthrax, positively glowed. Perhaps it was a representation of its node.

Curious, she reached out again. Other bright specks were scattered across Lauralin and the surrounding islands. She was able to pick the node at Booreah Ngurle straight away, though it was far from being one of the brightest. She examined the globe. Kalissin was bright but the node at the manufactory was not visible – not the least pinprick. Cold fear settled over her. Had the manufactory been destroyed, its node drained dry? That might mean Tiksi was gone too – and her mother.

It probably meant nothing of the sort, Tiaan told herself, and there was no way of telling, so it was foolish to construct worries out of light and shadow on the glass. As she turned away, she felt a cold ache in the bones of her left hand, which held the amplimet. She almost dropped it. Tiaan threw her hand up to her chest and the amplimet went out.

Letting out a cry of anguish, she stared at the crystal. There was no glow, no spark, nothing. Had she destroyed it, and all her plans, by bringing it to the globe?

Tiaan closed her fist around the amplimet, squeezing hard. What was she to do? Staring up at the dark ceiling, she noticed a needle-thin blue-white ray reflecting from a point near the skylight. She traced it down to its origin, a point on the globe near the southern pole, which had rotated to the top. A spot on a boomerang-shaped island glowed so brightly that it outshone all other nodes.

She bent towards the globe. The island lay in the centre of a long sea. What was its name? One end was the Kara Ghashad, or Burning Sea, the other the Kara Agel, Frozen Sea. The island had a single peak in the centre. It was the Island of Noom. Tiaan knew nothing about the place but as soon as she remembered the name, dread settled over her. She drove the walker backwards by instinct.

Halfway across the room, the slender ray went out, as did all the other specks of light on the globe. She opened her fist, hoping to see the amplimet restored, but it was as dark as before. Still moving, she backed into something she had not seen, for it was covered in a black dustcloth. It gave forth the low, mournful peal she had heard before.

She pulled off the cloth, which could have covered a good-sized shed. Beneath, a carillon of bells was suspended from a small iron tower. Four of the bells were identical, each larger than a witch's cauldron and spaced well apart at the corners of a square. Hanging in the centre was a fifth bell, elongated like a gooseberry and large enough to cover her from head to foot. It was made of glass, though she could not see through it.

Creeping into the middle of the carillon, she lowered the walker to look under the bells. The four metal bells were just like ordinary village bells. The fifth had no clapper and may have been designed to ring in sympathy with the others. The glass was mirror-silvered inside.

Belatedly realising that she had no right to be poking around here, she was turning away when the amplimet shone out and, beneath the glass bell, she saw a lock of black hair which looked just like her own.

She eased in between the bells, spreading the walker's legs until she could pick up the lock. It was her hair, surely. No one in these parts had hair like hers. Coming up again, she happened to glance into the bell and was so struck by the deformed reflections in its mirrored surface that she rose inside to see. Everywhere she looked she saw herself, and every movement twisted and changed her. She went still but the reflections continued to shift, warp and change. Get away quick, she thought, but something pulled her back.

She was looking at a dark-haired man holding a little black-haired baby, which was crying. The amplimet flared and the images dissolved as if she were looking into a soothsayer's crystal ball. A different man turned to her. He wore a half-mask of burnished metal but she knew it was Jal-Nish. The look in his eye made her stomach recoil.

She thrust the amplimet at the reflection. He looked surprised, then vanished as the light echoed back and forth. It took ages before she made out anything else. The reflections moved like ripples on a pond, slowly clearing to silver. She closed her fist around the amplimet again but the surface stayed bright, as if the light was swirling within the glass.

She made out a tower, twisted like barley sugar, in a frozen landscape of black rocks hung with ice of the same colour. In the distance, the sea was covered with jumbled ice floes and crevasses. The scene dissolved, a new image formed and she was standing at a woman's shoulder as she walked down an endless stair. And someone was behind her but Tiaan was afraid to look back.

Down, down she went, with measured tread, never looking around. The woman came to the bottom, reaching out with old hands for a greatly corroded iron ring on an ancient door that had once been blackened by fire and never cleaned.

Tiaan swallowed. Her hand on the walker's controller was slippery with sweat. What was behind the door?

'No!' someone roared.

A hand went over her hand. The walker dropped and lurched sideways, cracking her head on the rim of the bell. It rang and the vision, or seeing, vanished. The walker clattered out from beneath the carillon.

'What do you think you're doing?' Gilhaelith shouted, dragging her away from the bells. The walker's rubber feet skittered on the floor.

It was like being snatched from a dream. 'I -' she said. 'I – I saw a lock of my hair on the floor – and then I looked up. Were you scrying out my life?'

'Of course, as I do everyone who comes within my realm. What did you see?'

'A man with a baby. It might have been my father.' She hoped so. She so longed for him. 'Then Jal-Nish the perquisitor, wearing a metal mask. And lastly, a woman walking down the steps of a bleak tower.'

'The Tower of a Thousand Steps. You are lucky, Tiaan. There are many powers in this world and few as benign as I. They do not like being spied upon. Had I not come back, you would now be wishing you were dead. What were you doing here?'

'I heard the bells. They seemed to be calling to me.'

He started. 'Calling? What then?'

'I was looking at your glass sphere but the amplimet went out and a spot on the globe sent a ray right up to the ceiling.'

'What spot?'

'The Island of Noom,' she whispered.

Uncharacteristically, he shivered. 'Rhymes with doom, Tiaan, and for good reason. You are not a true geomancer yet; I fear what you have just told the world about yourself.'

She followed him across the room. 'Where are we going?'

'You are going back to bed.'

'And you?'

'I wanted to talk to you, which is why I went to your room, but discovered you gone. However, that must wait. You've left me with much to do tonight. I hope I can cover your tracks.'

'What did you want to talk about?'

'There's no time to discuss it now.'

'Did you discover anything about me, from your scrying?'

'I did, though I don't know what it means. No time for that either.' He saw her into her bed and hurried away. While she'd been downstairs the weather had changed. Gusts of cold wind had replaced the warm breeze, and the moon was obscured by churning black clouds. Thunder echoed back and forth across the crater, like drumrolls. Hail rattled on the roof, followed by a brief patter of heavy drops.

Tiaan still could not sleep. She pushed herself up in bed, expecting a ferocious thunderstorm like those she had been used to at the manufactory. Lightning lit up the boiling clouds and gave her a show for hours, but there was no more rain. She was sorry about that. It had not rained here since she'd arrived.

The following morning was cool with a heavy overcast hanging low over the mountain, at times descending to the rim and becoming a gentle fog.

'Can I go outside today?' she said to Gilhaelith as they took breakfast together in her room. Tiaan tried not to look at the slugs foaming on his platter. 'I feel so confined.'

'I suppose so. There's little chance of anyone seeing you in this weather, but put on your hat and scarf just in case.'

He helped Tiaan into her walker and they set out along the rim of the crater. Tiaan had to be careful of her footing on the rock-littered ground. Several times, when changing direction too quickly, she went close to tipping the walker over.

She was wrestling with her own dilemma. Dare she take the risk of sticking with Gilhaelith, who might betray her, or should she betray him first and flee in the thapter? If she had alerted something to her existence last night, it was now urgent.

'You're very quiet, Tiaan.'

She felt guilty. 'Just thinking.'

'What about?'

'What I did last night.'

'Let's not talk about that now.'

'This weather reminds me of home,' she said with a little sigh. 'It's always raining or foggy at the manufactory. My clothes used to go mouldy in their chest. I never thought I'd miss the place.'

'Home gets into our bones,' said Gilhaelith. 'Nyriandiol has been mine for most of my adult life, but I still feel nostalgic for my homeland.'

'Where was that?' she asked.

'Oh, over on Meldorin Island.' He waved a hand towards the west.

'The name makes it seem like a little place,' she said, trying to envision a map of that part of the world. For once, it would not come. 'It's not though, is it?'

'Meldorin is enormous. A good three hundred leagues from south to north, and a hundred west to east.'

'Whereabouts did you live?'

'Oh, you know!' He waved his long hand again, then fell silent.

A third of the way around the circuit of the crater, Tiaan stopped the walker.

'Something the matter?' Gilhaelith enquired.

'The crutch strap is chafing. I'm not used to such rough ground.'

'Do you want to go back?'

'No. It's lovely out here.'

They picked their way across the stony rim. Billows of mist drifted around them. Tiaan could feel droplets condensing on her eyelashes. The scarf over her face was dripping.

'Gilhaelith?' she said.

'Yes?'

'What did you want to talk to me about?'

He leaned on an elbow-high boulder, staring into the invisible crater. He seemed reluctant to speak.

'Gilhaelith?'

'This is a great gamble, Tiaan. A prodigious gamble, so don't get your hopes up.' Another extended pause. 'I've come across something about broken backs. There is -' His head whipped around. 'What was that? Did you hear it?'

'It sounded like a sheet flapping in the wind.'

'But there's just the gentlest of breezes.'

The mist broke and re-formed. He ran to the outside edge, peering down toward the forest.

'Can you see anything?' she called.

'No. Sometimes you hear funny noises up here,' he said doubtfully. 'I think we should head home, Tiaan.'

She adjusted the chafing strap, rotated the walker and they set off. 'What about my back?'

He was slow to reply. Before they had gone twenty steps she heard that crack again. Gilhaelith went still, his head cocked to one side.

'I think I know what it is.' One hand slid inside his coat.

'What, Gilhaelith?' She turned the walker one way and then the other, but could not see anything.

Before he could answer, a winged shape appeared in the fog right behind him. Another thumped into the ground between him and her, and then two more, one on either side.

Gilhaelith whipped out a stubby rod but the rear lyrinx dropped a rope over his head and jerked it tight around Gilhaelith's chest. The one to the left struck the rod from his hand.

'What are you doing?' she cried.

They did not answer. Other ropes bound his arms to his chest. He tried to say something, perhaps a geomantic word of power, for a rock exploded into fragments, gashing one of the lyrinx's calves. It ignored the minor wound.

Tiaan hurled the walker forward, recklessly attacking the nearest lyrinx with her fist. It pulled back its arm to deliver a blow that would have torn her head from her shoulders. She skittered sideways, careering towards the second lyrinx.

Gilhaelith shouted something she did not catch. Before he could utter another word, the first lyrinx pulled a hood tight over Gilhaelith's face. She caught a whiff of tar.

Tiaan threw herself at the nearest enemy, who simply put his great clawed hand across her face and pushed. The walker went backwards and toppled. As she crashed down the slope, the last thing Tiaan saw was the four lyrinx lifting off, in perfect formation, carrying Gilhaelith between them.

'Tia -' he yelled.

All further sounds were drowned out by the rush of shattered rock down the slope.