Born of Darkness (William King) - William King Page 0,33

Valen’s Elixir. Maybe he should have used it in the catacombs. Maybe if he had Gerd would still be alive.

A knock sounded on the door. He said, “Enter.”

A servant in the livery of the palace stood there.

“Yes?” Kormak said. He did not relax. The habits of a lifetime made him wary.

“I have a message for you, sir,” said the servant.

“Feel free to deliver it.”

“The Lady Marketa, Ambassador from the Courts of the Moon, requests the pleasure of your company.”

The servant’s face was bland but Kormak could tell that he was curious what the response would be. He must be wondering why the Selenean Ambassador would invite the champion of their sworn enemy to her abode. Kormak was curious himself.

“Tell her I will be there.”

“Very good, sir. I will send someone to guide you to her apartments once you have completed your ablutions. Would the seventh bell be acceptable?”

“Perfectly.”

***

Kormak entered the garden courtyard aware that a dozen pairs of unfriendly eyes watched him. An old, old woman led to a table beneath the shadow of a tree. Her face looked lined by the blast of the desert sun. She eyed him as if he were a tramp who had just showed up at the door begging for food. Kormak gave her his politest smile in response. He had found that always annoyed such people. She sniffed and led him forward.

“Your guest, mother,” she said. “The Guardian Kormak.”

“Thank you, daughter. You may leave us.” The Lady Marketa extended one pale and lovely hand as if she expected it to be kissed. When Kormak made no move to do so she smiled and gestured for him to sit. He inspected the rune-inscribed wooden chair before making use of it. Lady Marketa’s smile became amused.

“Are you worried that I might ensorcel you,” she said.

“I was wondering whether it would take my weight. It looks rather fragile.”

“How diplomatic of you to say so.”

“I was surprised to be invited to break bread with the Lunar Ambassador,” he said.

“I am the Selenean Ambassador,” she said. “I do not claim to represent all who follow Our Lady. There are, alas, some who are at odds with my masters and mistresses.”

“Indeed.”

“I invited you here because there are things we should talk about.”

“Does this mean I should listen to what you have to say or that you want question me about recent events beneath the Palace Imperial?”

“You are not a subtle man, are you, Sir Kormak? Or do you just like to give that impression?”

“It’s a hobby.”

She laughed. It was like the tinkling of tiny silver bells; lovely, remote and cold. “You are more entertaining than I expected.”

“I am glad you find me useful for something.”

The mirth vanished from her face. “I know you are useful for many things. That is why you are in Siderea. I do not think it’s an accident that you arrived on a ship that belonged to a notorious pirate and sorcerer. I doubt its chance that you are here as this latest crisis breaks over the palace.”

She paused, waiting to see how he would respond. He looked at the food on the table and said, “Go on.”

“How impolite of me? Are you hungry? Please, help yourself.”

“I have already eaten.”

“Are you afraid I might poison you?”

“You consistently impute me of suspecting you have the most sinister of motives. Why is that?”

Something about his tone reached the ears of the men standing nearby. They were big men, in court garb, with curved Lunar scimitars on their belts. Their hands went to their weapons. Lady Marketa gave the faintest shake of her head and they sank back into dormant watchfulness.

“You are determined to make this less pleasant than it could be,” she said.

“If you have something to say, say it. If you have a favour to ask, ask away.”

“I am curious to know what has been going on. Last night you departed from the ball with the king. This morning the abbot of your order’s local chapter house was summoned, along with all his men. Now the Palace is sealed off. No one in. No one out. There have been rumours concerning all manner of things. Mysterious deaths in the Vaults. The dungeons evacuated. An Old One stalking the catacombs.”

“And you expect me to tell you about this?”

“I may be able to help.”

“How?”

“I possess a good deal of arcane knowledge. There is no one within a hundred leagues who knows more about the Old Ones than I.” It occurred to Kormak that if ever there was a