Simon Hawke - The Seeker

“Are you not afraid of what the Shadow King will do when he learns of your involvement?” Sorak asked.

Ankhor merely shrugged. “I have committed no crime,” he said. “In fact, I really had no choice in the matter. The House of Ankhor was hardly in a position to refuse a commission from one of the queen consorts That would have been a grievous insult to the Royal House of Nibenay. To the best of my knowledge, I was merely acting in accordance with the Shadow King’s desires, expressed through his youngest queen.”

“You know very well that is not so!” Korahna said.

“Ah, but do I really know that, Your Highness?” Ankhor replied. “My representatives in Nibenay accepted the commission in good faith on behalf of our house from your mother, the queen consort. They saw to it that you were safely conducted to Gulg and received a first-class berth with this caravan. Viscount Torian himself chose to escort you, in token of the long-standing relationship between his family and our merchant house. I, myself, have only just met you for the first time.”

“And you know how the situation stands, because I have told you,” the princess said.

“You have also told me that you are a self-avowed preserver and an exile from your own kingdom as a result,” Ankhor said calmly. “Under the circumstances, surely I could hardly be blamed for thinking that those were your father’s wishes.”

“As I have said. Lord Ankhor is well versed in the intricacies of diplomacy,” Korahna said. “Especially when it comes to turning those skills to his own ends. I trust my mother paid the House of Ankhor well.”

“Very well, indeed,” Viscount Torian said. “I fail to see the reason for your bitterness. Your Highness Doubtless, your mother was afraid of what the Shadow King would do when he learned of your treachery, for that is how he would see it, surely. A mother’s first instinct is to protect her child. She merely wanted to see you out of harm’s way.”

“And so she cast my fate upon the winds,” Korahna said bitterly.

“With all due respect, Your Highness,” Torian replied, “you did that yourself when you first made contact with the Veiled Alliance. In Nibenay, as it is in Gulg, that is a crime punishable by death. You stuck your own head in the noose. You should be grateful to your mother, for it was she who saved your life. Or did you think your father would simply wink at such activities on his daughter’s part? The Shadow King has more children by his many consorts than my entire family has servants. I doubt the loss of one errant daughter, especially one who has become a profound embarrassment to the Royal House, would concern him greatly.”

Ryana followed this conversation with fascination. Sorak merely kept quiet, listening in what appeared to be a distracted manner. She strongly suspected, however, that he was not merely listening. Undoubtedly, he allowed the Guardian to probe the minds of Ankhor, Torian, and Korahna so that he could ascertain the truth. What truly amazed her, however, was Ankhor’s offhandedness about the whole thing. He was not in the least bit concerned about this discussion taking place in front of them. But then again, she thought, why should he be? His position is secure. His house had accepted a commission from the queen consort. To refuse it would have been an insult. Insofar as that went, he was right. He, or Torian and his representatives, truly had no choice.

And if his conduct was called into question, he had no need to concern himself about their bearing witness to it. They were both preservers, and knew what their fate would be if they fell into the hands of a defiler king.

“Must we speak of such depressing matters?” Ankhor said. “We will merely bore our guests. Come, we have a fine dinner set before us, and the wine is of an excellent vintage. Let us enjoy ourselves.”

“Indeed,” Torian agreed. He turned to Sorak. “So you are the one who foiled the marauder plot to sack the caravan from Tyr. I would be most anxious to hear the details of that story.”

“There is little to tell,” Sorak replied. “I merely stumbled on the plot and reported my discovery to the Tyrian Council of Advisors.”

“Surely there is more to it than that,” Torian said. He glanced at Ryana. “I suspect, Priestess, that your friend is being overly modest.”

“He has never been much given to conversation,” Ryana replied.

“An admirable trait,” Torian replied. “Though it does make things a bit one-sided over dinner. What of yourself? Where are you bound on your pilgrimage?”

Ryana hesitated slightly and glanced at the princess, who had fallen into a sullen silence. “Nibenay,” she said.

At that, Korahna glanced up briefly, then quickly averted her gaze.

“Indeed? That is a long journey,” Torian replied. “A pity we cannot accommodate you. This caravan is on its way to Urik”

“So Lord Ankhor told us,” said Ryana. “However, we are grateful for your hospitality. We shall be resuming our journey in the morning.”

“Nibenay is far less hospitable to preservers than is the House of Ankhor,” Torian said.

“True enough,” Lord Ankhor agreed, “but villichi priestesses do not practice magic, and while their order is devoted to the Druid Way, they are not political. Which is to say, my lady, that while you may not find a ready welcome there, it is unlikely that you shall be molested.”

Ryana did not bother to tell him that she was not really on a pilgrimage, at least, not in the way he thought, and that in seeking the Sage, they were embarked upon a quest that was very “political,” indeed.

“I am surprised you chose the northern route around the mountains,” Torian said. “The southern route, by way of Altaruk and Gulg, would have been shorter.”

“The route across the Stony Barrens and over the Barrier Mountains will be shorter still,” she said.

Ankhor and Torian both sat up straighter and stared at her with astonishment. “You plan to cross the barrens?”

Ankhor said. “With all due respect, my lady, that would be most unwise.”

“It would be worse than unwise,” said Torian. “It would be insane.”

“What my young friend means . . .” began Ankhor, in an effort to soften Torian’s remarks, but Torian interrupted him.

“I said precisely what I meant,” he said. He glanced at Sorak. “If you plan to take the priestess through the barrens, then you take her to her death. No man who has attempted to cross the barrens has ever lived to tell the tale.”

“But I am not a man, my lord,” Ryana said. “And neither is my friend. He is an elfling.”

“We do not question your abilities, my lady,” said Lord Ankhor. “It is well known that priestesses of the villichi order are trained from childhood to deal with all manner of adversities, and Sorak here, beyond a doubt, is quite capable and possesses great powers of endurance. But consider the terrain you plan to cross. There is no more rugged and dangerous ground in all of Athas than the Stony Barrens. You will find no forage for yourselves or for your mount. There is no water. The ground is very rocky and difficult to traverse. It is impossible to move quickly. During the day, the sun bakes the barrens until the heat will roast your feet right through your shoes. And that is to say nothing of the predators that lurk there.”

“And even if, by some miracle, you should survive the barrens, you will still need to cross the mountains on the other side,” Torian added. “And take it from one who has traveled in those mountains—it is no easy journey. Nor is it a safe one. Of course, if you try to cross the barrens, you need not worry about crossing the mountains safely. You shall never reach them.”