candidate for the person who had unleashed the Old One, she was it. She had the knowledge. She had the power. She had the skill and judging from the way she had been looking at him at the ball she had no great love for King Aemon.
“And why would you want to help the King of Siderea?”
“Because his gratitude might help me with my mission.”
“And what would that be?” Kormak asked.
“My masters sent me here to negotiate the return of the moongate. King Aemon has one in his Museum and all such artefacts are property of the Eldrim.”
Kormak’s eyes narrowed. His lips pursed. “A moongate? Here?”
“Does that surprise you? It shouldn’t. The Children of the Moon ruled this land for millennia.”
“I am surprised that the King allows such a thing within his palace.”
“The Palace Imperial is warded.”
“Nonetheless. Such a thing is dangerous . . .”
Her silvery laughter returned. “You have no idea how dangerous.”
“I can make a guess.”
“Yes, you probably can.”
Kormak remained silent.
Marketa saw he was not about to speak. “My offer of aid was sincere. I don’t expect you to believe that but it is true.”
“Does the name Vorkhul mean anything to you?” He asked the question just see her response. Her hand went to her mouth. She gave a faint gasp and her eyes went wide. “I take it that it does.”
“Where did you hear that name?” Her tone was no longer languid and flirtatious. It was the voice of someone who expected to be obeyed.
He paused for just long enough to let her know he was not obedient. “I did not hear it,” he said. “I read it.”
“Where? Mount Aethelas? The fortress-monastery is said, incorrectly, to have the best library in the world.”
“Does the name mean anything to you or not?”
“It means a considerable amount and it is not one I would speak too loudly if I were you.”
“Why not?”
“It might attract the wrong sort of attention.”
“I am used to that.”
“I am not.”
Was it possible she was afraid? She gave the impression of hiding nervousness but all Lunar witches were consummate actresses. He had experience of that.
“So far you have not been very helpful,” he said.
“I would have thought my response would have told you enough.”
“You are attempting to make me believe that the name frightens you.”
“For the simple reason that it does.”
“And why does it do that?”
She glanced around. “I am not sure this is the time or the place to discuss that.”
“I can think of none better. We sit in your garden. There are no visible eavesdroppers. There are no secret passages.”
“There are other means of eavesdropping than listening.”
“And I am sure you have warded this place against them. Unless of course, you intend for this conversation to be overheard.”
“You are a suspicious man.”
“Alas, a lifetime of dealing with the wrong sort of people has left me so.”
“This place is, as you surmise, warded. There are however other things I need to consider.” She glanced at the armed men who stood within earshot.
“You are worried that your own bodyguards might overhear?”
She looked down at her glass and then brought her head up to study him from under her lashes. “The King-Emperor is not the only one who spies on me,” she said. “My superiors and my rivals do to.”
“Tell me about Vorkhul.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“VORKHUL,” THE LADY Marketa said. She glanced around. Her bodyguards had withdrawn far from earshot. They eyed Kormak nervously. They knew they were too far away to perform their function should he prove a threat. “Vorkhul. It means born of darkness. Not a name I ever expected to hear in this place. Tell me, where did you read this name?”
And there it was; the wedge that would allow her to question him. He considered his response for a moment. “On a coffin. In the King’s Vault in the catacombs.”
She seemed almost relieved. “On a coffin?”
“A sarcophagus made of sungold and orichalcum and other starmetals. Inscribed with elder signs of containment. The workmanship was pre-Solari. Perhaps from the Sunken Kingdoms.”
“What?”
“I am just telling you where I read the name. Who was Vorkhul?”
“One of the Firstborn, a Prince of the Moon, a warlord and a dominator. One of the Thirteen who betrayed Our Lady and caused her to turn her face from her people. He swore allegiance to Zothaqua, the Watcher in the Darkness, a Prince of Shadow. He became a Shadowlord himself.”
“And someone has just sent his coffin to the King of Siderea.”
“It is not his coffin. The Old Ones do not die as