‘Oh, that’s very nice,’ Sephrenia murmured. ‘We always seem to forget the poetic side of the Atan nature.’
‘Moreover,’ Norkan continued his translation, ‘glad are we to welcome the fabled warriors of the west and the wise-man of Chyrellos-Church.’ Norkan was obviously translating verbatim.
Emban politely inclined his head.
‘Clearly we see our common concern in the matter at hand, and staunchly will we join with the West-warriors in such acts as are needful.’
Androl spoke again, pausing from time to time for translation. ‘Our minds have been unquiet in seasons past, for we have failed in tasks set for us by our Matherion-masters. This troubles us, for we are not accustomed to failure.’ His expression was slightly mortified as he made that admission. ‘I am sure, Ehlana-Queen, that Oscagne-Emperor-Speaker has told you of our difficulties in parts of Tamuli beyond our own borders. Shamed are we that he has spoken truly.’
Queen Betuana said something briefly to her husband.
‘She told him to get on with it,’ Sephrenia murmured to Sparhawk. ‘It appears that his tendency to be flowery irritates her – at least that was the impression I got.’
Androl said something to Norkan in an apologetic tone.
‘That’s a surprise,’ Norkan said, obviously speaking for himself now. ‘The King just admitted that he’s been keeping secrets from me. He doesn’t usually do that.’
Androl spoke again, and Norkan’s translation became more colloquial as the Atan king seemed to lay formality aside. ‘He says that there have been incidents here in Atan itself. It’s an internal matter, so he technically wasn’t obliged to tell me about it. He says they’ve encountered creatures he calls “the shaggy ones”. As I understand it, the creatures are even bigger than the tallest Atans.’
‘Long arms?’ Ulath asked intently. ‘Flat noses and big bones in the face? Pointed teeth?’
Norkan translated into Tamul, and King Androl looked at Ulath with some surprise. Then he nodded.
‘Trolls!’ Ulath said. ‘Ask him how many his people have seen at any one time.’
‘Fifty or more,’ came the reply.
Ulath shook his head. ‘That’s very unlikely,’ he said flatly. ‘You might find a single family of Trolls working together, but never fifty all at once.’
‘He wouldn’t lie,’ Norkan insisted.
‘I didn’t say he did, but Trolls have never behaved that way before. If they had, they’d have driven us out of Thalesia.’
‘It seems that the rules have changed, Ulath,’ Tynian noted. ‘Have there been any other incidents, your Excellency? Things that didn’t involve Trolls?’
Norkan spoke to the king and then translated the reply. ‘They’ve had encounters with warriors in strange armour and with strange equipment.’
‘Ask him if they might have been Cyrgai,’ Bevier suggested. ‘Horse-hair-crested helmets? Big round shields? Long spears?’
Norkan posed the question, though his expression was baffled. It was with some amazement that he translated the reply. ‘They were!’ he exclaimed. ‘They were Cyrgai! How’s that possible?’
‘We’ll explain later,’ Sparhawk said tersely. ‘Were there any others?’
Norkan asked the questions quickly now, obviously excited by these revelations. Queen Betuana leaned forward slightly and took over for her husband.
‘Arjuni,’ Norkan said tersely. ‘They were heavily armed and made no attempt to hide the way they usually do. And once there was an army of Elenes – mostly serfs.’ Then his eyes went wide with astonishment. ‘That’s totally impossible! That’s only a myth!’
‘My colleague’s losing his grip,’ Oscagne told them. ‘The queen says that once they encountered the Shining Ones.’
‘Who are they?’ Stragen asked.
‘Norkan’s right,’ Oscagne replied. ‘The Shining Ones are mythical creatures. It’s another of those things I told you about back in Chyrellos. Our enemy’s been sifting through folk-lore for horrors. The Shining Ones are like vampires, werewolves and Ogres. Would your Majesty object if Norkan and I pursued this and then gave you a summary?’ he asked Ehlana.
‘Go right ahead, your Excellency,’ she agreed.
The two Tamuls began to speak more rapidly now, and Queen Betuana replied firmly. Sparhawk got the distinct impression that she was far more intelligent and forceful than her husband. Still holding Princess Danae in her lap, she answered the questions incisively, and her eyes were very intent.
‘Our enemy seems to be doing the same things here in Atan that he’s been doing elsewhere,’ Oscagne told them finally, ‘and he’s been adding a few twists besides. The forces from antiquity behave the same as your antique Lamorks did back in Eosia and the way those Cyrgai and their Cynesgan allies did in the forest west of Sarsos. They attack; there’s a fight, and then they vanish when their leader gets killed. Only their dead remain. The Trolls don’t vanish. They all have to be killed.’
‘What about these “Shining Ones”?’ Kalten asked.
‘There’s no way to be sure about those,’ Oscagne replied. ‘The Atans flee from them.’
‘They what?’ Stragen’s voice was startled.
‘Everybody’s afraid of the Shining Ones, Milord,’ Oscagne told him. ‘The stories about them make tales of vampires and werewolves and Ogres sound like bed-time stories.’
‘Could you accept a slight amendment, your Excellency?’ Ulath asked mildly. ‘I don’t want to alarm you, but Ogres are real. We see them all the time in Thalesia.’
‘You’re joking, Sir Ulath.’
‘No, not really.’ Ulath took off his horned helmet. ‘These are Ogre-horns,’ he said tapping the curved appurtenances on his headgear.
‘Maybe what you have in Thalesia’s just a creature you call an Ogre,’ Oscagne said dubiously.
‘Twelve feet tall? Horns? Fangs? Claws for fingers? That’s an Ogre, isn’t it?’
‘Well –’
‘That’s what we’ve got in Thalesia. If they aren’t Ogres, we’ll settle for them until you can find us some real ones.’
Oscagne stared at him.
‘They aren’t all that bad, your Excellency. The Trolls give us more trouble – probably because they’re meat eaters. Ogres eat anything. Actually, they prefer trees for dinner over people. They’re particularly fond of maple trees for some reason – probably because they’re sweet. A hungry Ogre will kick his way right through your house to get at a maple tree you’ve got growing in your backyard.’
‘Is he actually serious?’ Oscagne appealed to the others. Ulath sometimes had that effect on people.
Tynian reached over and rapped the Ogre-horns on Ulath’s helmet with his knuckles. ‘These feel fairly serious to me, your Excellency,’ he said. ‘And that raises some other questions. If Ogres are real, we might want to re-think our positions on vampires, werewolves and these Shining Ones as well. Under the circumstances, we might consider discarding the word “impossible” for the time being.’
‘But you are, Mirtai,’ Princess Danae insisted.
‘It’s a different kind of thing, Danae,’ the Atana told her. ‘It’s symbolic in my case.’
‘Everything’s symbolic, Mirtai,’ Danae told her. ‘Everything we do means something else. There are symbols all around us. No matter how you want to look at it, though, we have the same mother, and that makes us sisters.’ It seemed very important to her for some reason. Sparhawk was sitting with Sephrenia in the corner of a large room of King Androl’s house. His daughter was busy asserting her kinship with Mirtai as Baroness Melidere and Ehlana’s maid looked on.
Mirtai smiled gently. ‘All right, Danae,’ she gave in, ‘if you want to think so, we’re sisters.’
Danae gave a little squeal of delight, jumped into Mirtai’s arms and smothered her with kisses.
