Beneath Ceaseless Skies #25 Read online

  “Sit, brother. It seems I’ve not seen you in years. I am sorry I have not found the time.” I slumped into the chair. It was uncomfortable and I wished sorely for my bed.

  “Well here I am, Orech. What do you want with me?”

  “I want nothing. I thought only that we might talk.” He waved his hand. “I am already tired of all this, brother. I wish things between us were as they used to be. Do you not? I know, perhaps we could take a try at that wonderful puzzle box together, like the boys we were.”

  So it was as I had thought. I said only, “Father gave the box to me. Its secret is mine to discover.”

  “But surely you will let me help you? He was, after all, my father too.”

  “It’s mine, brother. Is being king so little for you that you want this too?”

  Then Orech’s face truly darkened, and his voice became a hiss.

  “Respect your king, princeling! I thought we might enjoy Father’s blessing together as brothers. Do you think being King of Arq is all joy and water? I tell you it’s a heavier burden than you bear for certain. If anyone has need of the box’s secret, it is I.”

  “You?” I stood, furious, and as I did the red brazier-light glinted on something behind the throne that I could not see. “Did you not have enough of father’s blessings while he lived? He gave you gifts, and horses, and talked of the great kingdom you would inherit. Meanwhile I sat in your shadow and the heap of your scorn. No, brother. For this once I will have something that you have not had first. Goodnight, my King.”

  I spat those last words, and I wish now that I had not. For I think it was because of them that Orech made up his mind what he would do next.

  “Wait, Jarech,” he said softly as I spun on my heel to leave. I saw again a glint in the shadows. Suddenly I knew what it was and it made my voice shake.

  “By the names of our fathers. You mean to take from me my inheritance.”

  Orech stood and walked to me. “I am sorry, Jarech. But if father was truly right, and that ancient piece of wood holds the secret of true happiness, does it not belong in the royal treasury where it can be used for the good of all the people?”

  As he reached for the box at my waist I slapped his hand away and shoved him back. Before I could take another breath I found the spikes of four halberds a hair’s breadth from my neck. The royal guard. Their blades were what I had seen in the dark. I could do nothing but stand straight as stone lest my throat touch the razors under my chin.

  To my despair, Orech slipped the puzzle box from my belt, scrubbing its face greedily with his thumb, as a gleeful child with a new toy. I am ashamed to say I found my eyes welling up with frustration.

  “You worthless scorpion. Father gave that to me!”

  “And you have lost the right to keep it because of your greed.” Orech frowned in mock sympathy. “However, I promise I will share its secret with you once I discover it. Guards, you may escort my brother to his chambers.”

  They moved without answer. But it was late, and they too were tired. One let his weapon fall ever so little, and it was all I needed. I slipped between the blades and dashed towards Orech’s back.

  In the next moment I became guilty of treason. If I could have thought, I might not have done it, but all the weight of my resentment for Orech fell on me then and I could not stop. I am glad that my master was such a good teacher of the Water Dance or I might have killed him.

  With his next step Orech’s weight shifted to his left leg, so I struck there, my dagger cutting above the back of his knee. It gave way and Orech collapsed with a scream, the puzzle box skittering across the floor. “Stop him!” he screeched from the ground as I scooped up my treasure.

  I knew the Pillar Room entrance had surely been closed the moment I entered, so I ran to the west wall where there was a high balcony from which musicians sometimes entertained the court. The guards pounded behind me, but they were not Water Dancers. They had no hope of following.

  Lifting the rough toes of my dancing shoes I slid on the smooth soles around the pillar nearest the balcony. When I had cleared it I set my toes again to dash in a new direction while the guard skidded past, unable to stop. Two, three, steps and a leap to the stone sword of my grandfather’s statue, then another leap to the wall were my dagger found a crack in the mason’s work. I had to leave the dagger there as I vaulted to catch the balcony rail by my fingertips. Curses followed me as I pulled myself over. I was now on the second floor of the palace, and by the time the guards reached the stairs I would be far away.

  Still, the alarm traveled faster than I would have guessed. Perhaps Orech had even planned for my escape. They would be watching the palace gates, so rather than try to creep down to the first floor I fled upwards. All the way up I heard the pounding of feet echoing below. But I knew the palace’s secrets. For example, there was a great tapestry on the second floor from which one could leap to a chandelier, which could itself be climbed to reach the rafters of the third floor, and so on.

  All this I performed with my already weary body, so that by the time I crossed the roof onto the king’s gondola I had no strength left and collapsed on the deck. There I lay as a dead man. The sounds of pursuit faded from my ears and were replaced by the creaking of the great hawsers as they bore the gondola through the quiet night to the Ahrkim and gardens below.

  I should have felt great fear, and I’m sure that I would have had I been able to keep my eyes open. But I could not, and they closed of their own will. It may be that I rode the gondola to the docks, back to the palace, and down again. I do not know. I was lost in urgent dreams until I woke to find the moon high in her course and the sound of laughter floating on the night wind.

  * * *

  Our poets have said that happiness favors the bold. But I have learned that this, as with so many proverbs, is either entirely false or only a partial truth. For I had been very bold indeed, yet when I woke and realized what I had done, the feeling that filled me was more akin to doubt. I had thought I had reason to fear my future before, when I was beneath Orech’s notice. Now my future was something truly uncertain. I could not hide in Arq for long; my face looked like the King’s. My only hope to keep the puzzle box’s treasure would be to solve it before being captured.

  As I peeked over the lip of the gondola basket, I saw that I was coming to the grassy floor of the royal gardens at the foot of the palace, where there is a small dock that stretches into the Ahrkim. Moored there was what I had hoped to find: one of the famed pleasure boats of Tariq, merchant king of the Gold Isles and my sister’s husband. From it lantern light and laughter filtered through the rhododendrons and orange trees to mix with the sighing of the river and the cool desert air. It was easy to imagine that Tariq, as former owner of the puzzle box, knew its mystery. Clearly he had found all the happiness he would ever need.

  As the basket touched the grass next to its tower I crept to the shadows of the orange trees, from which I could see the pleasure boat. In its center was a closed section that was the living quarters, and surrounding it a colonnade held up with white columns. Within it scores of people stood in groups, reveling. Drunken men laughed over-loudly. Young women protested as their lovers teased at pushing them into the river shallows.

  In the middle of all this stood a long table covered in every kind of food. At its head sat the tremendously fat Tariq, and at to his left Ashi, my elder sister.

  Tariq had grown even larger than last I remembered, which was a feat in itself. He threw his head back and laughed so heartily that I could hear the rumble from my hiding place. But it seemed to me that Ashi did not laugh. She only watched, as though from a distance, filling Tariq’s cup whenever he set it down. I wondered at this, why she should be doing slave’s work.

  But this question passed with my more urgent concerns. I had to discover what Tariq knew of the box. The dock was well lit, so I walked one of the moor lines (no easy task in the dark) and came to the shadows of the house-like part of the boat. From there I was
only steps from Tariq and Ashi, and could see surely that my sister wished she were elsewhere. Looks of disgust crinkled her brow nearly every time Tariq opened his mouth. I began to doubt my plan.

  I suspect I might have been able to walk openly into the colonnade, so drunk were the guests at the table. But the cost of capture was too great now, so instead I whistled low a tune. It was a song Ashi used to sing when we were all children. After a moment she straightened in her chair and looked about. As she turned my direction I leaned into the lantern light and then back to my shadow. It was enough. Ashi excused herself, stood, and walked toward me.

  * * *

  “You are both still the boys I once bounced on my knee!” Ashi had not been as sympathetic to my tale as I had hoped, though she was not soft in her words for Orech either. No one seemed to notice our whispering in the shadows. “You have injured the King, Jarech, and you know how hot Orech’s blood can get.”

  “I know it, Ashi. But should I have given up my inheritance?”

  “Of course you should have. Orech would have come to his senses in time. And even if not, is a toy box worth the trouble you have caused? All of Arq will be after your head by morning!”

  “It’s not a toy, Ashi. Father said—”

  “I know what Father said. But you cannot honestly believe it? You know how fond he was of riddles and philosophy. Surely it was only metaphor.”

  “No, Ashi. If you had seen his face—”

  “Ah! Jarech, you have always been so stubborn once your mind is set. I think that if I could see father’s face now he would be very disappointed in both of his sons.” With this she threw her hands up and spun to watch the moon writhe on the face of the Ahrkim. I was glad she did this so that she did not see how much those last words had cut. I felt suddenly very childish.

  “If only Tariq had left this cursed boat at home....” She wiped at her beautiful almond eyes. “I would have been able to be with father at the end. There is much I would have said.” After a moment she turned back to me.

  “Why have you come? I cannot hide you here, and I don’t think I would if I were able.”

  “I thought.... I thought that perhaps Tariq might know how to open the box, since he owned it last.”

  Ashi snorted, a most un-queenly sound. “Think you that my husband knows the secret of true happiness, Jarech? Ha! Look at him. Do not mistake drunkenness for happiness. Tariq, and his god-be-damned comforts! I am only glad that there is enough wine to ensure that he will fall straight to sleep the moment he enters our bedchamber tonight. He is good only for drinking and chasing other men’s wives. If you call that the secret of happiness, then yes, Tariq has certainly found it.”

  My heart sank as she spoke. A man like that could not help me. I was lost, estranged, and no closer to my goal. She must have seen my despair, for she sighed and said, “Very well, let us see what the brute knows anyway. Come. Don’t fear discovery. We’ll tell them you are the King himself, coming to visit your sister. None of these drunkards will know the difference.”

  With this she walked back to the bright colonnade, and after a hesitation I followed, putting on my best royal gait even though I was still wearing my dancing clothes. The noise of talk and laughing and loud singing was fantastic. Some of Tariq’s guests looked sideways, wavering between suspicion and greeting. But after a whispered word from Ashi, Tariq stood ponderously and bellowed, “All you noble men and women, welcome the King of Arq, Orech al Hizur who comes to visit his sister!”

  There was a great cheer, and many bows, and quick as that my disguise was complete. Tariq gestured with a meaty hand, offering me the chair and cup at his right.

  “Sit, King Orech! Tell me what brings you from the palace at this hour. Surely not our paltry gathering?” His voice was as graveled as the bed of the river, and his words slurred together like its waters.

  “No, I fear not,” said I, trying to sound the way I had heard Orech speak now that he was King. “It is a lesser matter still. I cannot sleep, King Tariq, for I fear my Father has both blessed and cursed me with my inheritance.”

  Tariq chuckled. “Ha! Ruling is not so simple as it appears, eh?”

  “The ruling is simple enough. It’s this cursed box of which I speak.”

  I pulled the box from its strap on my belt and placed it between us. Immediately I wondered if I had made some terrible mistake, for Tariq’s eyes lit up with the same light as a thief’s in a jewelers shop.

  “Ah, that beautiful box! I remember it.” He stifled a belch. “Many sleepless nights it caused me, too. And many more it would have, had I not lost it to your father in a horse race. I still contend that I won that race!” He slammed his cup down and reiterated his assertion to men at the table who cheered his horsemanship, even though they were not listening.

  “Tell me, did you ever find the way to open it?” I asked.

  “Open it? No. Never. Though I often thought that the secret must lie in these markings. Do they not in a certain light appear as lettering?” Tariq traced the golden whorls with a thick red finger. “But you see, Jarech, at the time I owned the box, I had no Magus then who could read it.

  “But!” he said louder, raising his glass again, “the box did still teach me the secret of happiness. And that secret is this: forgetfulness.”

  He winked and raised his glass, seeming to forget me even as he drank. Yet I was elated, for he was correct; now that I looked, first this way, then that... yes, the shapes in gold on the box’s lid might indeed be letters. Letters a magus might read.

  But no sooner had hope risen in me than it died again and a stone fell into my stomach. He had called me Jarech.

  As if in answer to my thoughts, a hue and cry went up from the far side of the boat. Ashi cursed beside me. Guards were pounding up the ramp, and behind them Orech, limping on his injured leg.

  Tariq leaned close to me, seeming suddenly less drunk than he had a moment before. “But I’ll tell you, prince. Treason is not the answer you seek. I’m afraid your brother has already visited me tonight, warning me to watch for you.”

  I had no time to think. I stood and spun, but already the table was half surrounded by grim-faced guards. Orech limped through the half circle and glared at me. The look in his eye was unlike any I had ever seen: enraged beyond reason. He reached for the dagger at his hip, and I felt sure in that moment that he meant to kill me where I stood.

  “Orech, no!” It was Ashi’s voice. She stepped between us, just as Orech’s blade cleared its sheath. She caught his wrist deftly and he stumbled on his pained leg.

  “Unhand me, sister,” he said. All had fallen silent on the pleasure boat, all eyes on us.

  “So you may begin your kingship with a kinslaying? Is that how you wish to be known? And over what?” said Ashi, “Some foolish toy box? We ought to throw it into the river now and have done between you.”

  Orech said nothing, and the scene was frozen as in a play, Ashi still holding his wrist, and me looking out from behind her like a child behind his mother’s skirts.

  At last Orech jerked his hand away and turned his back to us.

  “Perhaps you are right, sister,” he said, more softly now, and relief flowed into my bones, but only for a blink. “The puzzle box has caused more strife than happiness. It ought be destroyed.”

  And before I realized the meaning of his words, Orech had snatched up a halberd from the nearest guard and was bringing it down with all his force towards the box lying on the table where I had left it. I think I must have screamed. The only thing Father ever given me was about to be destroyed.

  What happened next I can only guess. So vivid was my vision at that moment that I remember the very instant that the blade struck the box. But rather than the blade biting into the wood, the wood appeared to bite into the blade. The halberd bowed impossibly. Then there was a great white flash, a shriek of steel, and the air was filled gleaming shards of metal and splinters of wood.

  The puzzle box remained.

  All
the guards and guests cringed and covered their faces. Orech clutched his arm and howled. I snatched up the puzzle box, nearly dropping it because it was now almost too hot to touch. Then stepping onto the table, I dove over the mass of Tariq and plunged into the Ahrkim.

  * * *

  I’m sure you have seen the great water wheel at the north side of the palace. It provides drive to the King’s gondola, the main gate, and the other mechanical parts of the palace. It also carries fresh water up to be heated in the baths and such. But on that night, it drew up a treasonous prince who was about his final business.

  I have explained that I knew the palace’s many secrets, so I will not describe how I used them to finally arrive at the carved oaken doors of the Royal Magus. I stood there for several moments unsure of how to proceed, for I did not know the Magus. Often I saw him in counsel with Father, and of late with Orech, but the only time I had spoken to him myself was as his student when I had learned to read. I did not know where his loyalty lay. But it seemed to me it was safe to guess that it lay with the one who had power over him, and therefore with Orech.

  I drew my remaining dagger and rapped on the great doors with the butt.

  After a long minute (during which I was sure guards would round the corner), one of the carved doors swung inward and revealed the tall thin frame of the Magus. Even at this hour he wore his red robe and the red jewel on his forehead that gave the same color to his eyes. His face was even more ancient than I had remembered.

  “Please come in, prince Jarech.” He spoke slowly in a voice dry as the desert wind. He had no fear of me at all.

  “How did you know it was me and not my brother?” said I.

  A wisp of a smile passed over the Magus’s face and a bony hand appeared from the robes, pointing out the gathering puddle of water at my feet.

  “Your fugitive flight has dulled your wits, my prince. I remember a very sharp boy who learned to read letters with ease.” The Magus pulled the door open further and gestured me inside. I hesitated before sheathing my weapon (feeling foolish all the while) and walking into the dim chamber.