Sky Trillium. Julian May

found himself smothering a delighted laugh. He was getting the hang of it! Not even speech was truly needed. The thought was what counted in wreaking magic.

      ‘Is that true?’ he asked the talisman.

      And the voice within him said: Yes.

      Serious again, he caused the pitcher to reappear. Then he slipped out into the corridor and headed for his Aunt Kadiya’s room.

      She had kept it, as always, at her side in bed; but when she awoke the next morning the Three-Lobed Burning Eye was gone, leaving only its empty scabbard. Jagun swore to her that no one had entered, for he had slept just outside her door. The Citadel servants and guards had noticed nothing unusual. Nevertheless the Burning Eye had undeniably been stolen.

      What was worse, Haramis’ Three-Winged Circle refused to show the whereabouts of the magical pointless sword, nor would it say who was the thief.

      ‘This can only mean,’ the White Lady said to her two badly shaken sisters, ‘that Kadi’s talisman is now bonded to another and empowered. There is no use attempting a physical search of Ruwenda Citadel. It is too vast, with countless potential hiding places. Besides, the thief is no doubt long gone with his booty. A search would not only be futile, it would also trumpet the fact of the second talisman’s theft and dishearten the people. Only we Three and Jagun must know of this.’

      ‘Now we are surely lost,’ the Queen said, her voice heavy with despair. ‘All this time, one of my own courtiers has had both the star-box and my purloined coronet! And now he owns the Burning Eye as well. The wretch is probably already on his way to a rendezvous with Orogastus! The situation is hopeless.’

      ‘Don’t talk like a fool, Ani,’ snapped Kadiya. ‘We will carry on – as we did once before when the sorcerer himself owned two talismans. Now that was a time seeming to be truly without hope – and yet we prevailed. If the Triune wills, we shall do so this time also.’

      On the following day the three sisters said their farewells and quit Ruwenda Citadel.

      The Archimage Haramis used her magic to transport herself instantly to her Tower on Mount Brom. There she began preparing proposals for the defensive conference in Derorguila, as well as devising instructions for those Folk who were to be entrusted with the blockade of the viaducts. After that she intended to search her own archives and those of the Blue Lady, in the hope of discovering a way to either control the invisible portals or destroy them. She was not optimistic of swift success.

      Kadiya, Prince Tolivar, Ralabun, and six of the Queen’s valorous Oathed Companions set off on the first leg of their journey to far Sobrania. The Prince was allowed to bring along a locked iron box of modest size, which he said contained certain of his most valued books.

      Lightweight boats drawn by rimoriks would carry them through Lake Wum. After bypassing Tass Falls they were to travel down the Great Mutar through the vast Tassaleyo Forest to the Wyvilo town of Let, where they would take passage on an aboriginal tradeboat bound for the kingdom of Var and the Southern Sea.

      ∗ ∗ ∗

      The caravan with Queen Anigel, King Antar, and all of their court began the long journey northward to Labornok, which was expected to take at least thirty days. The Wet Time was now well and truly begun, and unrelenting rain poured down upon the long train of coaches, carts, riders, and foot travellers like a cataract from heaven.

      In spite of the inclement weather, the advance of the slowly moving royal entourage through the swamp was marked by many a furtive eye.

       CHAPTER 7

      By the time the travelling court was ten days out of the Citadel, Anigel was bored to death riding in her lumbering great carriage with Immu and the four ladies-in-waiting. The new Queen’s Mireway, opened only the previous year, was living up to its reputation as a great marvel of the world. It was as sturdy as any dryland thoroughfare, even in the exceptionally heavy rains that plagued the trip this year, and Anigel saw no reason why she should not go riding up and down the procession visiting and sightseeing, as the King and the royal children and the male members of the nobility did.

      The women were shocked at her daring and tried to dissuade her, but the Queen swept their objections aside. After all, it was her mireway. For nearly six years she had supervised its construction, eking out funds from a shaky budget, coping with rebellious Glismak road-gangs and other aboriginal problems, and bolstering the confidence of engineers who insisted that certain sections of the thoroughfare could never be built.

      Anigel lowered the coach window and called to a page riding hard by. ‘Summon the Royal Fronial Master.’ She smiled at the perturbed noble ladies around her. ‘I refuse to travel shut up in a stuffy coach like an invalid simply because I am with child. It will not harm my unborn babes if I take to the saddle in the honest Ruwendian rain.’

      ‘But such things are not done by pregnant queens!’ exclaimed Lady Belineel. She was of an ancient Labornoki family, and only too eager to voice disapproval of the more easygoing Ruwendian customs.

      Surprisingly, the old Nyssomu nurse Immu piped up in support of Belineel. ‘Your mireway is not Derorguila High Street, my Queen. It traverses some of the most dangerous country in the Peninsula, particularly in this section, and there is a scent of Skritek spawn in the air. I beg you to stay in the carriage.’

      ‘Nonsense,’ said Anigel. ‘I smell only muck and wet leaves and the spoor of harmless tarenials – and someone’s oversweet perfume, which is giving me a headache.’ She called out the carriage window to the middle-aged peer she had caused to be summoned. ‘Lord Karagil, pray bring me a mount at once, and have my Oathed Companions attend me. I will ride for the rest of the day.’

      ‘This is very unwise,’ Immu said grumpily. ‘One shouldn’t take chances when spawn are about.’

      The Fronial Master was equally dismayed at Anigel’s decision. ‘The Oddling nurse is right about the Skritek, my Queen, for our scouts have come upon fresh sign. It is unusual for the horrid offspring of the Drowners to range this far east, but –’

      ‘Obey me,’ said the Queen, her voice low and pleasant but her intent unshaken. ‘If my Oathed Companions cannot protect me from Skritek spawn, then it is time they turned in their swords and took up fancy needlework. I shall first visit with my Royal Husband, who is in the advance party.’

      ‘Stubborn stubborn stubborn!’ said Immu to Anigel, using the overfamiliar manner of venerable retainers. ‘It is indecent for a gravid royal woman to go off galloping amongst a cavalcade of soldiers and teamsters – even if there were no danger from spawn.’

      ‘Nevertheless,’ Anigel said blithely, ‘I am going.’

      Immu besought the noblewomen. ‘Will not one of you ride with the Queen?’

      But the ladies only made excuses and continued to remonstrate. Finally, Immu said, ‘Then I will go myself!’

      Anigel looked upon the Nyssomu nurse with some doubt. ‘You may certainly ride pillion with me if you insist, dear friend. But I daresay it will be most uncomfortable for a small person such as yourself, jouncing along at my back.’

      Lord Karagil suddenly brightened. ‘I have an idea that may serve all purposes,’ he declared, and rode off. He returned anon with two grooms, one leading a white fronial caparisoned royally for the Queen and the other bringing the she-beast’s gentle, half-grown colt, fitted out with an improvised saddle and bridle for Immu.

      Happily, Anigel put on boots and a cloak. Accompanied by twenty knights of her Oathed Companions, and with Immu following resignedly on the long-legged colt, the Queen rode forward along the line of march until she reached the vanguard. There she found King Antar and his commander-in-chief, General Gorkain, dismounted at one of the new bridges that spanned a swollen tributary of the River Virkar. They were conferring with two aboriginal scouts clad in the livery of the Two Thrones. Lord Marshal Lakanilo and numbers of other noble officers sat their steeds