Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Read online

  “Better than sitting here with my thoughts.”

  “I am thinking you should go in with illegal guns as if to sell to the highest bidder. You heard folk on Lax were in the market; the Xenian smugglers have big mouths and so forth. Hold out for the real player, the head honcho.”

  “That requires more leverage than a few illegal guns.”

  “Right.” Chaim gave it some thought. “You know of a large cache on Ymir and the contact is family. If the big boy on Lax is interested, he can only go through you.”

  “It needs finessing. Must I go in as an Ymirian, then? The family connection thing? No way is the underground of Ymir tolerant of strangers.”

  “This is another reason I need you - you think like a spy.”

  “Gee, great. Male or female?”

  “What do you think?”

  Jimini chewed for a while. “Female. Easier to sustain, appears less threatening, and we all know Ymirian females can be as bent as the males.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Where do we get the guns?”

  “Xen. I have a source there.” Chaim looked away.

  “Criminal?”

  “Quite the opposite, and he will help with glee if it means we trap the smugglers ring also.”

  Jimini got up to find mugs, and poured coffee. “Why are you shy about this source?”

  “He does this passing on without Dalrish official consent.”

  Jimini glared at him. “Chaim, you know that’s looking for trouble.”

  “The red tape is boggling and by the time it is done everyone will know who the informant is. We cannot take the risk.”

  They ate in silence, each weighing options, and then cleared the kitchen together.

  Jimini squashed her misgivings and two minutes later they were on their way to Xen III.

  Xen III

  IT WAS MID-AFTERNOON when Tristan blinked in the sunshine outside the enclave.

  Beside him was Rose, the woman who would cause problems merely because she was Rose, and behind him, blinking owlishly, were Teroux and Tianoman.

  Before him was an irate Daisy.

  “You can’t take her with you!”

  “Daisy,” Rose pacified, “I must. Caballa said so.”

  “It’s a huge, dangerous universe, Rose.”

  “I know, sweetie, but I’m only going as far as Valaris and I’ll be under Valla protection.” She dimpled.

  “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  Tristan clasped the man’s bony shoulder. “The Elders will be there, friend, and if it really concerns you this much, I shall arrange for a suitable chaperon.”

  It was, in fact, a brilliant idea, Tristan thought. He would see to it the moment they were back on Valaris.

  Rose did not like it. “I do not need a chaperon.”

  “Yet you will be assigned one,” Tristan said. Behind, his cousins groaned. “Hear that, Rose? That is why I am giving Daisy my word on this.”

  Daisy beamed. “Thank you, my Lord.” He bent a stern eye on Rose. “Now you behave, hear? You are an ambassador for our farspeakers.”

  “I will behave. You old worry-shoe, I’ll be fine.” She gave him a hug and then looked up at Tristan. “Are we going direct to Valaris?”

  “First our thanks to Peacekeeper Le Maximillian.”

  They took their leave of Daisy and the enclave, and transported to the Palace in Shanghai Metrop with Tianoman toting a heavy bag on Rose’s behalf.

  Her eyes were round with awe when they were before the Dalrish Peacekeeper and he was as taken with her as were the Valla heirs.

  Daisy would have been displeased.

  REEL WAS SURPRISED TO see Chaim again, but when the infiltration of Lax was presented to him, he sprang into action, doing so with tact and stealth.

  By morning he would have everything in place.

  As an added measure he checked on arrivals to Lax and informed his fellow spies, “A Ymirian docks late tomorrow. That should fit your cover. I know someone who can alter the passenger manifest in the event someone sees fit to check thoroughly.” He went on, fine with the subterfuge, “Jimini, you need a name and it had better fit with known malcontents on Ymir.”

  “I shall contact someone on Ymir,” Chaim murmured.

  “Well, that’s it then,” Reel grinned. “Listen, my wife is visiting her mother, so my house is available tonight, and gives us a chance to polish the cover, what say you?”

  The Dome

  TWO OGIVES CHIMED and Belun swore foully. He jerked around to face the intruders.

  “Not now!”

  Prima walked in and from the other side came Declan with a firm hold on Sabian.

  “We need talk, Belun,” Declan said. “It may not be the brightest idea to take the Dome down to Sanctuary. Is Torrullin still in Grinwallin?”

  “He’s off the scopes, I think inside the mountain. Who is this?”

  “This is Sabian, master historian and trouble-shooter for Titania.”

  In silent agreement Prima and Declan headed for the Dome before Grinwallin, first to give Belun forewarning and, second, to present Sabian to the console of lights. If anything were amiss with the man the lights would unmask him.

  “Well met, Sabian,” Belun murmured and focused on Prima. “Sorry, but it explains nothing.”

  Prima watched as Declan closed in on the console, gesturing Sabian over.

  Belun understood and watched also.

  “Sabian, forgive me, but would you place your hand here?”

  Sabian looked from the Siric to the blinking lights. “Why?”

  “It proves what you are,” Declan said, and waited.

  If the man refused he proved himself and would be dealt with. If the lights remained lit he would not be harmed, but if one of the lights muted he could count his remaining time in mere seconds.

  Sabian gave a disbelieving laugh and placed his hand on the console firmly. The lights continued blinking.

  Both Prima and Declan visibly relaxed.

  “Good. Welcome to the Dome,” Declan smiled.

  Sabian shrugged and removed his hand. “I assume I passed.”

  Belun’s hair rose. This man was trouble. “What is your claim to fame, Sabian?”

  “Much study. My field of expertise is ancient cultures and I have dabbled in foretelling.”

  Convenient. “And you came to the attention of my friends here.”

  “They found me. Who might you be?”

  “Belun of the Centuar, and Dome leader.”

  A pleased grin appeared on the fair man’s face. “I have heard of you, but you are not in Centuar form?”

  “Too large and unwieldy for the work here.”

  “You can hold that form long?”

  “Indefinitely.” Belun shook his head. Neat, how he changed the focus.

  “Fantastic.” Sabian was thoughtful. “I read a telling about Centuars not long ago. Tell me, is it true you were created by a wizard?”

  Belun stilled. “It is.”

  “Made immortal and with souls?”

  “Yes. What is your point?”

  Sabian glanced at Declan, at Prima, and back at Belun. “Forgive me, but I should not say more.”

  Declan gripped the man’s shoulder. “Friend, tell us, or tell Elixir; your choice.”

  Sabian stared into the colourless eyes beside him. “Very well.” He faced Belun. “There is an unfulfilled prophecy about two Centuars who fell on the field of battle returning.”

  Belun blanched.

  “Say what?” Prima demanded.

  “They were treated foul and had not made their peace, they were not ready to pass on and it was not their time to go,” Sabian said, and closed his eyes. It was immediately evident he was quoting. “’In the battle of hair and staff, two created souls of man to horse were taken before reward due; the balances require return, in the time of time.’” He opened his eyes. “Penned twelve standard centuries ago by Anchor Mor of Yltri.”

  Belun sat down
hard. “Hair and staff - Dinor and Warlock. Assint and Mahler died there, taken foully, unprepared. Gods.”

  Prima pursed his lips. “Time of time? They could be where Lowen is, when Elixir goes back.”

  Belun swung large, hopeful eyes on the tall man. “You think so?”

  “I do not know, Belun. I merely speculate.”

  “And speculation isn’t truth,” Declan said. “Belun, we will discuss this with Torrullin, but for now …”

  “Damn it, Siric, two of my race!”

  Declan nodded expressionlessly. “Yes, I know, for I would give my wings to have just one other Siric in the universe with me, but you cannot allow this to cloud your present.”

  The Centuar rose. He eyeballed Sabian. “You and I are to talk at length soon, hear?” He drew breath, straightened and asked, “Now what is this danger to the Dome going down to Sanctuary?”

  “Apparently the Three Kingdoms are of Sanctuary. It could be foolishness to take the Dome to the site of prophecy,” Prima stated.

  Belun stared at him. “That isn’t enough to halt my task. Go tell Torrullin, if you must, and leave me to go on.” He swung moodily away.

  “If Torrullin is in the mountain we cannot interfere,” Declan said to Prima. “And Belun is right. We do not have sufficient evidence. I suggest we find a quiet place to talk to Sabian first.”

  “Sanctuary?”

  “Good idea? Thibis?”

  Prima nodded. “Head for the university. I am right behind you.”

  Titania

  IN THE LIBRARY THE three Kaval continued working, going without food and drink.

  By turns exclamations sounded, of amazement, of horror, of awe and disbelief. Sometimes there was no talk and only the sound of pages turning or keys tapping. At other times everyone spoke at once and twice a guard had been around to quiet them.

  It was astonishing how Luvan history melded with Sanctuary’s past and how inundations changed the course of all.

  Ignatius, Galarth and Shenendo realised they stumbled upon something huge.

  Valaris

  THEY LEFT VALARIS ONLY that morning and now felt as if they were away long.

  They went to the Palace on Valla Island first, hoping to discuss their plans before going their separate ways.

  They did not reason in the ire of the council of Elders.

  As the three heirs appeared in the Throne-room at ground level, Tristan holding onto Rose for her transport, they discovered the Elders awaiting them.

  “Aw, shit,” Teroux mumbled.

  Tianoman drew himself up to appear taller.

  Tristan released Rose and called a nearby retainer over. “Please take our guest upstairs and see to her comfort. Rose, stay in your suite for now. This here will get hairy.”

  She dimpled at him and followed the manservant up the curving stairs. All eyes watched and, when both were out of sight, the Elders exploded.

  There were fourteen of them, four for each Valla heir, as advisors, and two charged with overview. Together with the Elders of Luvanor they ruled the Valleur nation until a Valla stepped onto the dais again before the Throne.

  Sirlasin, Tianoman’s first advisor, shouted, “Tianoman, you subverted a sacred site! How could you do this terrible thing?”

  “You went along with that, Teroux?” Prester shouted.

  “We expected more from you, Tristan!” Atkir added his voice.

  “Do you have any idea the panic you caused?” Selenten demanded. Selenten was of Luvanor, but moved to Valaris to take a position on the advisory council when Kismet passed on.

  “We were forced to deep cloak,” Assari, on Tristan’s four, added.

  Tristan held a hand aloft and waited for silence. When it was given, he spoke, “We went to find Caballa …”

  Sirlasin blurted, “Noble of you, but your methods …”

  “Please allow me to speak,” Tristan said.

  Silence was again given.

  “Yesterday morning the three of us spoke with Torrullin about the rumour the Beaconite repeated.” The Elders nodded, aware of the situation, and also that two Kaval had been after the same thing this day. “It occurred to us after seeing him, Caballa has the talent to unearth these rumour mongers, but we knew she does not want to be found.”

  “She is on Nemisin’s world,” Atkir murmured.

  Teroux lifted a brow. “Seems we are the only three who didn’t know that.”

  “Yes, well, but even knowing where she is does not mean she would heed us,” Tristan explained. “The Dalrish allowed us the use of his farspeakers …” The Elders nodded again. That information was passed on also. “The young woman we brought back with us is a farspeaker and she made contact with Caballa. Thus, we found where she is and we have spoken to her.”

  “None of this explains the Three Gates,” Rissoni, of Teroux’s four, said.

  “Diversion,” Tianoman said. “We did not feel free to search for Caballa and we knew she would not hark to us with you fourteen listening in.”

  “Subversion is treason, Tianoman,” Vanar, charged with overview and the only female Elder, snapped. “Your reasons may be good, which is open to debate at this point, but reasons will not excuse treason.”

  Tristan stepped forward. “Then charge all three of us, Vanar.”

  “The Valleur will remain leaderless far into the future if you do so,” Teroux pointed out.

  Tianoman frowned at his cousins. “Stop it. This is my responsibility and I will assume accountability.”

  “Tian, think. Torrullin will come down on this like a mountain of stone,” Teroux frowned. “Nothing is to interfere with the Throne’s decision. We stand or fall together.”

  The Elders glanced at each other. The spectre of Torrullin’s wrath was not to be taken lightly; Teroux had spoken the truth.

  Vanar sighed. “You chose a remote site for diversion and you selected an early hour to ensure it would be unoccupied. These are mitigating factors and as no harm, except panic, was done, we choose to put it behind us. However, another such event, and no reason will hold water.”

  The three Vallas nodded, all secretly relieved.

  “This does not mean you are to go unpunished,” Atkir murmured.

  “Gods, they treat us like kids,” Teroux muttered.

  “You are fortunate we are not treating you like criminals,” Selenten snapped out.

  Cowed, Teroux said, “Sorry. We will accept your judgement.”

  Vanar looked to the second Elder charged with overview. “Yiddin?”

  Yiddin was an imposing Valleur. Big and brawny, he was also clever and a good administrator. Added to that, he was one of the few ugly Golden, for his features did not quite meld into uniform pleasantness. He took over Caballa’s position twenty years ago when it became clear she was not returning in a hurry.

  He spoke in a deep, bass tone.

  “My lords Valla, you have been judged guilty of subversion. This is, as explained, a treasonous offence and carries with it the penalty of death. However, there are mitigating factors and none here dare forget whom you are descended from. Thus the judgement has been muted to disturbance of the peace. This is your punishment, Tianoman. You will give eighty hours of your time to the poor of Gallipoli, starting with daylight tomorrow.”

  Gallipoli was a tourist town nestled in the fold of the Stairs Mountains. Busy in the winter season, it also hosted a large number of poorer folk who hoped to make coin off richer patrons. Gallipoli, probably the coldest town in all Valaris.

  It would not be a pleasant task, but Tianoman bowed without qualm. “I accept your judgement.”

  “Teroux, you will present yourself to the ambassador from Beacon tomorrow. I believe the man has a few thoughts on the advantage of toilet paper manufactured from reconstituted seaweed and needs an ear to bend. Canimer is his marked culling ground, thus your diplomacy skills will need vie with extraordinary patience.”

  Teroux groaned. “Gods, I would rather go to Gallipoli.”

&nb
sp; Yiddin grinned.

  “Yes, fine, toilet paper here I come,” Teroux muttered.

  “Tristan, you will give twelve hours to the spaceport at Two Town. You are to pick over every cargo manifest and inspect all incoming goods.”

  That would be pure frustration and hard manual labour. Tristan sighed. “I accept, but we do have a guest, Elder Yiddin.”

  “She will be entertained until you are freed of your duty,” Vanar murmured. “Why is she here?”

  “Caballa bade her come. As farspeaker she knows too much.”

  “She is therefore your prisoner?” Selenten frowned.

  “Not at all. We are being cautious. Caballa will sort her out when she comes.”

  “Caballa is coming?”

  Tristan nodded. “We think some time tomorrow.”

  Yiddin said, “If Caballa sees fit to return now, then something is off-kilter. The fact the Kaval dogged the Electan and Sirlasin today underscores that.” He glanced at Vanar, who nodded imperceptibly before he continued, “Caballa is welcome here always, but she may be fearful of recrimination. One of you needs to be here to set her at ease.”

  Yiddin glanced at his colleagues and received confirmation there also.

  “Tianoman, your judgement stands, as does yours, Teroux. Tristan, I suggest you get your twelve hours in this night to be here for Caballa tomorrow.”

  Tristan inclined his head. “Agreed.”

  “Two ships from Beacon in the next hour, one from Xen at three and another from Ceta around five in the morning,” Atkir murmured. “A busy night for you, my lord Tristan.”

  Teroux laughed.

  Tristan sent him a look. “I would rather lift heavy bales than die of boredom under the Beaconite’s watchful gaze.”

  There was general laugher and then, from Vanar, “Go now to your respective duties and homes. Yiddin and I shall remain behind for your guest.”

  No doubt they intended to pick her brain.

  Tristan gave his cousins a wry grin, and left.

  SOON THE CHAMBER WAS emptied, leaving only Vanar and Yiddin standing together in it.

  They stared up the stairs.