A Blackbird In Silver (Book 1) (7 page)

Ashurek could not even confide in Orkesh. She was too outspoken. She’d be outraged and would challenge Meshurek with the accusation. He couldn’t be sure he could stop her, for she had the same degree of spirit as did he.

Least of all could he speak to Meshurek. Already eaten by paranoia, now in the grip of a supernatural being – even if he could make him see reason, what strength did Meshurek have to dismiss the powerful, greedy Shanin? None. Less than me, Ashurek realised.

It was strange to look at his mother and his father – the great hawk-fierce Emperor Ordek XIV – and realise that they were as ignorant and helpless as children.

The burden was on Ashurek’s shoulders. There was no one he could tell, no one in the entire world who could possibly help. Strangely, he came up with the only solution immediately: he should trick his brother, take him away alone somewhere, and murder him. Then the demon’s contact with the world would be broken, his family would be safe. He gasped with pain at the thought.

How can I murder Meshurek? My own brother, whom I love. It would be the realisation of his fear that I planned to take the throne from him. Then his fear would not have been misplaced all these years – indeed, it could have been a premonition, he thought despairingly. There must be another answer.

In fact, there was not.

He dreaded leaving his family behind with Meshurek when he went away into the Empire again.

‘It would be useful,’ he told his father – the only man in the Empire to whom he was now answerable – ‘if I could spend a few weeks more in Shalekahh. There is much to discuss with other army leaders.’

Ordek answered, ‘Discussion must always take second place to action. There is a full-scale rebellion in the north of the Empire that I wish you to deal with personally. And there is similar trouble in Alaak. These must be your first duties.’

There was no question of arguing with Ordek, so when Ashurek heard that Meshurek was going alone to supervise the completion of his castle at Terthria, he felt that his family would be safe for a while, at least. Perhaps in that time he could find an answer.

To begin with, all went well. There was so much to be planned, discussed and done that there was no time to think of Meshurek. Eventually the scene he had witnessed in his brother’s room seemed no more than a distant nightmare. The rebellion was a challenge and took all Ashurek’s ingenuity to subdue it, so it was easiest to forget other distractions. The loyal enthusiasm of the army for their new leader was a joy to him. He could not wish to be anywhere but roaming the Empire with them, except that he sometimes missed Orkesh.

One day his second-in-command, Karadrek, said confidentially to him, ‘What an Emperor you would make, your Highness! No disrespect to your brother, of course – but you know as well as everyone that he is unpopular. A word to the army and you could take the throne easily, when the time comes.’

‘I will take that as a joke, Karadrek,’ replied Ashurek, ‘as I am sure you meant it.’

‘Naturally,’ said Karadrek, shrugging off his own treasonous remark, ‘but it nevertheless would be the fulfilment of the people’s wishes, and for the good of the country, if…’

‘I doubt it,’ Ashurek silenced him sharply. ‘There are more traditionalists than you think, who would support Meshurek in his absolute right to the throne. There would be civil war. And why should I want to be Emperor, chain myself to Shalekahh and its responsibilities, when I can be wandering the Empire as free as a hawk?’ The second-in-command, realising Ashurek was sincere, fell into uneasy silence.

Then the letter came from Orkesh. It was short, for her, and he could read some distress underneath her cool, light style. She mentioned that their father was unwell, and could he consider coming home for a few days? At once, Ashurek left the army under Karadrek’s command and rode home with just a personal guard. When he reached Shalekahh he was aware that a full two months had passed since Orkesh had written the letter. He could almost see and feel the pall of gloom over the city, and knew that bad news awaited him.

Guardsmen of the royal household stood ready to greet him, but Orkesh broke through them and ran towards him, her face wet with tears.

‘Was it so difficult to get here just a day earlier?’ she shrieked at him. ‘Father died this morning!’

Ordek XIV had not been an old man. He should have ruled for many more years. Ashurek, confused and anguished, could get no straight answers from any of his family. Orkesh could do nothing but weep, and their mother, dry-eyed but in obvious shock, insisted she wished to be left alone. Only Meshurek would look him in the eye and say, ‘He had a terrible fever. The physicians did all they could for him, but to no avail. We have suffered an appalling loss.’

Ashurek quizzed the royal physicians, who all confirmed that Ordek had contracted a lung infection that would not respond to their skills.

The palace without the Emperor’s fiery presence seemed an empty, superficial place, as if only his fierce brilliance had breathed life into it. Ashurek could hardly believe he had grown up here; the familiar rooms and halls seemed totally alien, every corner filled with dark mourning.

And Meshurek was now Emperor.

The funeral came and was over, while Ashurek felt so distant from the remaining members of his family that the lowest slave in Gorethria might have felt closer to them. He seemed to have lost all power to comfort his sister and mother or even to communicate with them, and he continually felt that Meshurek was watching him and smiling, although he knew that this was not actually so. Tortured and enraged, with no one to turn to for help, he retreated to his own rooms and paced about in the darkness, struggling with his thoughts.

Father! I should have warned you about Meshurek. Perhaps you did know a way to deal with the demon, and you would have been saved. Yes, it is my fault. I alone knew what Meshurek had done, and I ran away and hid the knowledge. And now you are dead. Is there anything I can do now to salvage what is left?

As he cursed himself in his anguish, the door opened and his mother and sister glided into the room, dressed in mourning grey like distant stone figures in an unreal landscape.

‘What do you want?’ he exclaimed, sounding angrier than he intended.

‘I know you are distraught, as we all are,’ his mother said in a low voice. ‘Orkesh and I have decided that we cannot remain silent. We three must stay together and help each other, now that Ordek is gone.’

‘Father should have ruled for another twenty years, at least,’ Orkesh broke in, ‘but twenty years was too long for Meshurek!’

‘Meshurek murdered your father,’ Melkish concluded drily.

Ashurek, suddenly having his fears confirmed, felt emotion running through him like fire. He felt like screaming, I know! I am the one who left you in this terrible danger, and now you ask me for help, unaware of how I’ve betrayed you?

But he said nothing.

‘Meshurek is insane,’ Melkish went on, her voice trembling. ‘It is unbearable to me to suggest this but – he must be killed, or at least removed – imprisoned at Terthria, perhaps. He cannot rule. You must take the throne.’

‘No, mother.’ Ashurek spat the words. ‘Don’t you understand? That is exactly what he has always feared. That is why he is insane. That is why he murdered Father.’

‘What?’ Melkish cried. ‘But he deserves it! Curse the day I gave birth to him! You can’t be suggesting that if we do not remove him, he will become sane and wise and that Ordek will return to life? Ashurek – don’t make me think you are both fools!’

‘Nevertheless,’ he said heavily, ‘if we try to kill or imprison him, we will all die. He has supernatural help. You must know that, or you would’ve been happy to believe that father died of a lung infection.’

‘We know there is something,’ Orkesh whispered, her eyes bright with tears. ‘Didn’t I tell you? There’s something wrong with him. He frightens people.’

‘I know. Meshurek has called to his aid a demon, a lustful, evil being of vast power. It has him totally under its control. It can do anything it likes. Our only hope is to lie low and pretend we are ignorant of it, and try to find an answer.’

In a tone of cold rage, his mother replied, ‘Lie low? That is not a Gorethrian of the royal house I hear speaking. Meshurek shall be brought to justice, and I, as Empress and as your mother, command you to help me. Do you understand? I am a woman whose right arm has been severed, but my left can still hold a sword.’

‘Mother, Orkesh,’ Ashurek said as calmly as he could, ‘please leave. I will deal with Meshurek myself. For my sake, you must keep yourselves safe.’

‘Very well,’ Melkish said, after some argument, ‘but if you fail... you must not fail. I could not bear to lose you too. What would become of Gorethria then?’

He kissed them and they left as quietly as they had come. Fired by rage – both at Meshurek and at himself – he felt dangerous, even invincible. He would force Meshurek to see sense, banish the demon, rule sensibly. It was the least Meshurek could do to atone for his father’s murder.

He found Meshurek in a side room of the darkened library. ‘My brother,’ he began softly, ‘I have come to tell you that your foolishness has gone too far. It must end. I know that you murdered our father, with the help of a demon – or most likely at its instigation.’ Meshurek looked up and smiled blandly, without surprise or defensiveness but with the faintest trace of excitement.

‘I’m glad you know. It saves me all the trouble of explaining.’

Ashurek felt himself shaking with anger and grief. Meshurek was indeed insane.

‘Explaining? You were planning to explain your crimes to me?’

‘Father had to be killed. I was sorry, of course, but there wasn’t time to wait for him to die of old age. Now the Empire can expand, as it should.’

‘Meshurek, why did you call that demon? I don’t want the throne, I never have. I am no danger to you!’

‘Are you not? Haven’t you come here now, believing me unfit to rule, to try to murder me? You’ve always hated me – I had to take precautions. You believe you were cheated of the throne at birth. I would have felt the same in your position.’

Ashurek felt the dangerous emotion fading into a helpless despair as he realised nothing he could say or do would convince Meshurek that he had never wanted to be Emperor, in fact despised the idea. His brother lacked the perception to comprehend feelings other than his own.

‘The demon is using you, you fool!’ he exclaimed. ‘How can you believe otherwise? You must – you will – get rid of it!’

Meshurek started laughing. And Ashurek, in his furious despair, flung himself forward and closed his hands on Meshurek’s throat. Meshurek stretched his arms out and silver light began to incandesce around his fingers.

Ashurek felt an impossible pressure in his skull. His hands slid from his brother’s neck; he lost all strength and crumpled to the floor. Then Meshurek looked down at him with a smile.

‘Is the time ripe?’ he asked.

And Ashurek heard a voice, like acid etching metal, reply, ‘It is ripe.’

Ashurek was not easily frightened. He had been through many terrible and bloody battles without losing the cool detachment necessary for planning strategy. He had had nightmares and been able to laugh at them on waking. He had met many subjects of the Empire who hated him, yet he had never felt the need to look over his shoulder to see whether his guard was there, or an enemy with a knife.

But the demon, Meheg-Ba, took him by the hand and led him to the Dark Regions where he was systematically taught Fear.

A black door in the atmosphere closed and he was trapped, stumbling in darkness across a surface of living flesh where the only light was the searing, sick glow of the Shanin. When at last his eyes adjusted and he found his feet, he saw, stretching in every direction, a bleak landscape mottled with sick browns and blacks. Unnamable shapes rose here and there. Malformed birds, like bags of skin, uttered dreadful metallic shrieks as they flapped across a black sky that was as low and claustrophobic as a roof. The smell and texture and atmosphere of the Shana’s region were enough to induce utter misery and despair even before the Shana began their tortures.

‘Welcome to the Dark Regions,’ said Meheg-Ba with a red grin. ‘It was fortunate that your brother summoned me, for he is now the most powerful man in the world. How lucky the Shana have control of him. Now you are to be forged as the instrument of his power.’

Fighting down the panic induced by the Shanin’s terrible presence, Ashurek growled, ‘If you think to make me a puppet, think again.’

‘So, you are a wilful one, as Meshurek said. No matter – fight me if you like. It will make the process longer and more painful for you, but no less effective.’

Ashurek fought, mentally and physically. But in the endless black labyrinths of the Dark Regions, the cells of rotting flesh and the evil, infinite swamps, nightmares were made real and inescapable. Demons and other, more primeval creatures tortured him in body and mind until fear itself, fear of dark corners behind his back and of the sinister, laughing malice of the Shana, became the thing he dreaded most. And behind all he continually sensed the presence of another being, as vast and indestructible as the universe, formed not of the self-delighted evil of the Shana, but of absolute, ashen desolation. The Serpent M’gulfn.

Ashurek fought long and desperately until even Meheg-Ba was surprised at his endurance. He was fighting for Meshurek’s release as much as his own sanity. But the struggle tired him as greatly as the torment, and at last, exhausted and half-mad with terror that the dark sky itself would rupture and reveal the Serpent to him, his will broke.