Sara Douglass - The Serpent Bride

“But that is two hours or more away,” said Axis.

“I thought perhaps you and I might put those hours to good use,” said Ba’al’uz. “For a chat, perhaps. Do you wish to come like that, or …?”

Axis looked down.

All he had on was a towel from his morning ablutions.

Axis grinned. “You caught me early,” he said. “Give me a moment.”

And but a minute later, clad more respectably in light-coloured trousers and waistcoat with sandals on his feet, Axis set off with Ba’al’uz.

“Isaiah tells me you witnessed his communication with the Lord of the Skraelings,” Ba’al’uz said without preamble as he led them along a corridor with huge, unglazed windows along one side.

“Indeed. It was most curious. I have many questions.”

“It was why I came early for you. I thought you would want to know more.”

“And you don’t mind answering?”

“I have nothing to hide from you, Axis. Isaiah has requested that I indulge your every question, and so I will.”

Axis doubted very much that Ba’al’uz had nothing to hide, but hoped that, under Isaiah’s directive, he might at least provide some answers to Axis’ more pressing questions.

“Who are you, Ba’al’uz,” Axis said. “ What are you to Isaiah?”

“I am Isaiah’s maniac.”

“Yes, but what —”

“I am Isaiah’s brother,” Ba’al’uz said, grinning at the expression on Axis’ face. “His elder brother by some dozen years.”

“Then why is he tyrant, and not you?”

“Ah,” said Ba’al’uz. “Thereby hangs a tale. Please, if you will, step through here.”

Ba’al’uz indicated a doorway in the corridor, and Axis walked through into a magnificently tiled verandah commanding views over the surrounding countryside. Ten minutes walk beyond the palace flowed the emerald waters and reed-covered river banks of the Lhyl, and just beyond that, on the far bank, rose the massive pyramid of DarkGlass Mountain. It was covered in blue-green glass and surmounted by a cap of gold.

Axis thought it the most beautiful and yet, somehow, the most deadly thing he had ever seen. He had questions about that, too, but for the moment he was intrigued more by the fact that Ba’al’uz and Isaiah were brothers.

“Do you know of the manner in which a tyrant comes to the throne of Isembaard?” Ba’al’uz said, leaning on the railing and looking out over the countryside.

“No. I’d assumed that Isaiah was his father’s eldest son.”

Ba’al’uz shook his head. “Isaiah was his fathers twentieth son, and there were another eighteen after him. Thirty-eight of us, all told.”

Axis thought that with all the wives Isaiah’s father must have enjoyed, it was amazing he had so few sons. “By what process then, is the tyrant chosen?” he said.

“You know the throne of Isembaard is a warrior throne?”

“Yes, Isaiah told me as much.”

“Well, then, what better way to decide who to sit that throne than with individual combat bouts between the sons.”

Ba’al’uz turned a little so he could see Axis’ face. “To the death.”

Axis could not speak for a moment. He’d battled with his brother Borneheld for Achar, and killed him, but to do that so many times over? Isaiah had seen thirty-six of his brothers die so he could assume the throne?

“Why are you still alive?” Axis finally asked.

“Me?” Ba’al’uz assumed an effeminate pose and an arch expression. “Can you imagine me with a weapon in my hand! No …” he laughed merrily. “There is a strain of madness runs through our family, Axis. In every generation there is one son … not quite right. Strange.” He paused, then hissed, “ Crazed Such sons do not battle. Instead we become our successful brother’s maniac. His court wit. His weapon ”

Again he laughed, and Axis could indeed hear the faint strains of madness lurking deep within Ba’al’uz’ being.

Genuine, or counterfeit? Axis wondered about a son who, knowing he did not have the skills to succeed in combat, might save his life by pretending madness.

“Weapon?” Axis said.

“A madman sees things, hears things, that no other can,” said Ba’al’uz, and this time Axis thought he could recognise genuine insanity in the man’s eyes.

“He dares things,” Ba’al’uz continued, “that no other can. And he knows things, that no other can comprehend. Madness is a gift of the gods, Axis, and I serve my brother well. Madness is power , yes? Not like that which once you wielded, but power nonetheless. I have my life, and I am grateful, and I do whatever I can to smooth Isaiah’s path through tyranny. I slide through my brother’s court like an evil wind, and in the doing I confound his enemies, and scry out their secrets.”

Axis gave an uncomfortable laugh. “What have you scried out from me, then?”

“That you are a burnt-out hero, Axis, and that Isaiah has nothing to fear from you.” He grinned as he said it, and with such malevolence that Axis actually leaned back a little.

Stars, how did Isaiah stand the man?

He couldn’t, Axis realised. Isaiah may have sent Ba’al’uz to answer any questions Axis had, but the underlying purpose of Isaiah’s request was that Axis see once and for all Ba’al’uz’ true nature.

Ba’al’uz was a frighteningly dangerous man, and Axis wondered what his secret ambition was, how he meant to achieve it and what it would mean to all about him. Maybe Isaiah hoped Axis could tell him.

“Well, then,” said Axis, “why not tell this ‘burnt-out hero’ —” he wished he had the control not to grind the words out “— the purpose of that pyramid across the river. It is most intriguing.”

“Ah,” said Ba’al’uz, “DarkGlass Mountain. It is intriguing, is it not?”

“Who built it? For what purpose?”

“Be patient, Axis, and I shall tell you what I know.” He leaned on the balcony railing again, looking at the glass pyramid. “From what anyone can gather — and my forebears spent their lives checking records — DarkGlass Mountain was built about two thousand years ago.”

“By whom?” asked Axis. The momentary antagonism between them had vanished, and Axis leaned on the railing as well, looking curiously at the massive pyramid.

“A group of men known as the Magi caused its construction. The Magi worshipped numbers, particularly the One. The Magi were mathematical geniuses. They used the power of the One in order to build a device by which they could touch more intimately the power of the One, and, by so doing, reach out to touch Infinity. Creation. Call it what you will.”

Casual words for what made Axis’ soul turn cold. Touching the power of Creation. Was there anything more powerful, or more dangerous?

“Then, the pyramid was not known as DarkGlass Mountain,” continued Ba’al’uz. “It was called Threshold.”