Sara Douglass - The Serpent Bride

StarWeb paused, thinking. “She is not comfortable to be around, and I think that is mainly because she is desperately uncomfortable around others.”

“I was not the world’s best conversationalist when first I stepped forth from the Veins, either, StarWeb.”

“You are curiously defensive of a woman you have never met, Maxel.”

Maximilian opened his mouth, then shut it again, and contented himself with a small shrug in answer.

StarWeb rose, weariness evident in her every movement. “I am going to take some rest, Maxel. Perhaps we can meet later?”

“Yes. Perhaps.”

StarWeb looked at Maximilian a long moment, wondering why he’d decided to leave Ruen for Pelemere before hearing from her, then decided she was too tired and Maximilian was too uncommunicative to justify the question.

She turned and left the chamber without another word.

Maximilian did not move for an hour or more, leaning against the window frame, thinking.

He was not foolish enough to think that a bride sent to him from the heart of the Mountain at the Edge of the World from an order devoted to the Great Serpent was mere coincidence, but he had convinced himself that the only reason Light, in his guise as a serpent, had sent her was that he’d decided the Persimius line needed new, stronger blood.

Or that perhaps Maximilian was doing so badly at finding a bride on his own, when an heir was so badly needed, that he’d send one himself.

Elcho Falling was not stirring. Maximilian was sure of it. He’d spent the night before he left Ruen standing in front of the crown, trying to see any chance, any sign of life.

But the crown of Elcho Falling was as it had been for millennia. Absolutely quiet.

Besides, there was no crisis, no desperation, no reason to think Elcho Falling was needed.

He need not worry.

He need not fret about the emptiness of the Twisted Tower. That would be for one of his descendants to worry about perhaps, but not he.

Maximilian took a deep breath, consciously relaxing his shoulders as he exhaled. He had brought the emerald and ruby ring with him. He knew that he and Ishbel would marry. They would live calm, settled lives, gradually building a marriage, and having many children.

All would be well.

Of course it will, said his ring. Naturally. Just like your youth and early manhood was calm and settled and happy.

Irritated, Maximilian pulled the ring from his finger and slipped it into the pocket of his outer robe.

Ba’al’uz faced a long and arduous journey north into the Northern Kingdoms. The Northern Dependencies of the Tyranny of Isembaard themselves could be difficult at this time of the year, while the FarReach Mountains beyond were not well known for their winter bonhomie. Nonetheless, Ba’al’uz was looking forward to the experience. As much as he loved DarkGlass Mountain and Kanubai’s whisperings, there was also knowledge to be gained and trouble to be caused in the Northern Kingdoms, and Ba’al’uz couldn’t wait for either.

Isaiah and Lister might well think Ba’al’uz was laying the ground for their invasion, but in reality Ba’al’uz meant to prepare the ground for Kanubai.

But all that lay in the delectable future. For now Ba’al’uz was merely glad to remove himself from his brother’s company. Ah, that Isaiah! Strutting about wrapped in his muscles and jewels and black, black braids, thinking himself lord of all, sneering behind Ba’al’uz’ back.

Ba’al’uz could not wait to see Isaiah ground into the soil under Kanubai’s heel.

Isaiah had always been irritating, but Ba’al’uz had discovered new depths of loathing and resentment towards his brother at the arrival of Axis SunSoar.

Axis’ arrival dismayed Ba’al’uz, because, firstly and most importantly, Ba’al’uz had no idea how Isaiah had managed it. Isaiah was a tyrant, and he was a warrior, but surely he had not the skills or powers of a priest.

Yet no one but a priest, or the most remarkable of magicians, could have pulled Axis SunSoar from the Otherworld into this one.

Isaiah should not have been able to do it.

The fact that he had appalled Ba’al’uz, because it meant that Isaiah was harbouring secrets from him, and secretive power.

Axis’ arrival dismayed Ba’al’uz for a second reason — it meant that Isaiah meant to replace Ba’al’uz as his most intimate advisor.

Ba’al’uz loathed his younger, prettier brother, and the only thing that had made their close relationship bearable was the fact that Isaiah needed Ba’al’uz as his advisor and weapon within the volatile politics of Isaiah’s court.

Now Isaiah had Axis and Ba’al’uz’ jealousy and bitterness festered deeper with the passing of each hour.

Now he would do anything to ensure Isaiah’s downfall.

With Kanubai’s aid and the power of DarkGlass Mountain, then who knew? With Isaiah dead, then who knew …?

The tyrant throne would be empty, and who better to sit it, eh, than Kanubai’s best and most loyal friend?

Five days after his conversation with Isaiah and Axis, Ba’al’uz set out for his adventure in the kingdoms beyond the FarReach Mountains. He did not travel alone — Ba’al’uz had no intention of warding off brigands by himself, or of cooking his own lonely roadside meals — but with an escort of eight men, all of whom he had handpicked from the shadowy underworlds of Isembaard’s cities. Ba’al’uz trusted them completely, for he had purchased their souls with bribes and obscene gifts many years ago. They were his factors, his apprentices in the arts and crafts of deception and treachery.

Ba’al’uz would have need of them in his journey. He called them his Eight, and he regarded them with an almost brotherly affection.

From the palace of Aqhat, Ba’al’uz and the eight took a riverboat north and then east along the mighty Lhyl. They stopped each night, either at a riverside village or town, to commandeer the best accommodation and food possible, or to make their own encampment on the fertile floodplains of the river, setting up tents and comfortable beds, and roasting river lizards on spits beside cheerful camp fires. There, at night, Ba’al’uz would entertain the eight with twisted tales that sprang from the whispers in his mind.

Within days the eight were more devoted to Ba’al’uz than ever. Their journey might be dangerous, and deceitful in the extreme, but the rewards at its successful conclusion were … entrancing.

The journey along the Lhyl was deceptively pleasant; Ba’al’uz knew that conditions would deteriorate from the moment they left the river. Normally, if he took the river journey north and then east with Isaiah to Isembaard’s capital, Sakkuth, they would disembark where the Lhyl turned north once more so they could continue the journey to the city on horseback. Ba’al’uz liked Sakkuth. The city was a viciously immoral place and seethed with opportunity for such as Ba’al’uz. Indeed, he had found five of his Eight within its depraved depths. But on this journey Ba’al’uz embarked into the unknown, for he did not leave the river and ride east for Sakkuth at all, but continued on the river, drawing ever closer to the FarReach Mountains.