“Your condemnation is from yourself not me. Relanor does not see a crime in such things. It is the Anthorian in you that condemns you. You never told your wife.”
“Of course not. I curse the day I went to Atonir.”
“Is that all?” The Keeper’s gaze wandered over to Azkun and Tenari.
“No, I bring you a question. Do you know who this man is? He doesn't eat or drink, he has stood in dragon fire unscathed.”
The Keeper regarded Azkun for a long moment then he turned back to Menish. There was a hint of a smile on his face.
“You call him Azkun and he comes from Kelerish. You would have added that he drove away a korolith, or so the Vorthenki call them. He calmed a storm, but you do not believe that, King of Anthor. And he raised a man from death. He is the son of Thalissa, the woman you thought you had killed.
“But all this you know, you wish me to tell you if he is Gilish or Kopth. And I can answer that question.” He paused, watching them with amusement. “You are going to the land of Gashan. This Azkun will, in Gashan, declare himself to be Gilish.”
“That's not what the priests of Atonir thought,” said Menish.
“The priests of Atonir are fools. What do they know of power? Only our flame has been alight since Gilish placed it here himself. Theirs was allowed to die and be rekindled three times. Only our flame holds the truth!”
As the echoes of his shouts subsided the Keeper made an odd, choking sound that Menish did not immediately recognise as laughter. Menish found himself wondering what made a man take the vows of eternal silence that bound him to the fire tower: a fear of the outside world or a yearning for mystic power?
“You came to me for an answer and you do not like my answer. So be it, but that is still my answer. Yet perhaps I can give you something for your remaining guilt.”
“I told you she drugged me!”
“Of course, yet you still blame yourself. Such guilt is easily paid for by placing Vorish on the throne.”
“Vorish? You approve of him? Why?”
“What do you know of us, Menish of Anthor? You have visited a Fire Tower but once before in your life. The rest you know is mere rumours, the idle talk of men outside. Yet you presume to know of whom we approve and disapprove.”
“I only know that Vorish tolerates you. He doesn't visit you, he doesn't leave offerings before your fires.”
“Do you think we care? Does our power rest only with the approval of the Emperor?”
“Power? You'd speak to me of power? Where were you when Telish was killed?” retorted Menish. “I have said all I wanted to. I do not accept your answer about Azkun. But I wanted to tell you that Thalissa is alive.”
He turned and faced the cloaked figures that stood motionless in the shadows. Before he could walk towards the door the Keeper called him back.
“Stop, Menish of Anthor. I have not dismissed you. You are presumptuous, yet you will be humbled before the Fire.” In front of him the fire leapt high into the air with a roar and Menish threw up his hands to shield his face. “I have something more to say to you.”
Menish turned and faced the old Keeper, angry at him and yet awed. “What is it?”
The Keeper leaned back on his throne and a look like glee crossed his face.
“The ways of Aton are strange, as mysterious as the shape of fire, as unknowable as the dwelling place of the Ammorl. You do not see it yet, Menish. After thirty years you have not seen it. Yet we have known, we who sit in this tower, we who never leave it. The ways of Aton are strange.” He leaned forward.
“We approve of Vorish. We absolve you of guilt. You are his father.”
“What?”
“Of course. How could you not know? He has the look of you.”
Vorish had dark, Anthorian eyes but he was otherwise Vorthenki looking. Menish had always thought he looked like Thalissa.
“He looks like his mother, you haven't seen him.”
“And he looks like his father. Did you not commit your crime nine months before he was born?”
Menish’s mind raced as he tried to remember over thirty years before. He had been in Anthor when Vorish was born. The Vorthenki had not used the Relanese calendar in those days and they were still rather haphazard about recording birth dates. The timing might or might not be correct, he did not know.
“So you see,” the Keeper went on, “you have placed an emperor of the line of Gilish on the throne. Not, unfortunately a direct descent in the male line, but for the present we are content. The means are not relevant. Do we not call Gilish ‘the two handed’ for that reason?”
Menish said nothing. He simply glared at the Keeper as if he had insulted him.
“You may go,” the keeper dismissed him. Muttering oaths Menish turned and walked to the door.
Chapter 19: The Lansheral
For the next three days they continued their journey across Relanor, leaving before dawn, changing horses at way stations and sleeping in post houses. They had to slow their pace somewhat because Keashil grew tired. She was unused to riding, and she was stiff and sore each night.
Menish wondered if Tenari also suffered with the pace, for as far as any of them knew she had never ridden before. But she had lapsed back to her old, sullen manner, having eyes only for Azkun. Other than that she appeared to manage fairly well. Menish could see Azkun was doing his best, but he was not so used to riding that he could hope to keep up this pace as long as the Anthorians and Althak. He looked relieved when Menish said that they would rise later and halt sooner.
As for the words of the Keeper, Menish did not believe him. He had been a fool to go to the fire tower. It was a place where old men burbled stupidity and made it look like power. Many years ago, when the weight of his cares and his guilt at leaving Thalissa to the mercy of Thealum’s mob lay heavily on him, he had visited the tower to try and find some solace. He had found peace and understanding, if not compassion, at the place. It was appropriate that he should give them the news that Thalissa was alive.
But this talk of power was nonsense. The Keeper had spoken grandly of things far away, things he could not have known about without being some kind of oracle. But Menish knew better. Vorish was also good at obtaining information. There was no need to surround it with mystery and awe, it was simply a matter of having spies in the right places and asking the right questions.
And yet, although he told himself these things over and over, he found himself watching Azkun, wondering about Gilish. During the long gallops and short halts Vorish’s face appeared again and again in his mind. It was slowly changing to look more like his own.
On the evening after the one spent at the Fire Tower, when they had eaten, Drinagish made a remark about Am-Goluz.
“Tell me more of the Fire Tower, Master Hrangil,” asked Azkun.
Hrangil raised his eyebrows and an eager look crossed his face, as if this were some sort of test he knew he could pass.
“The Fire Towers, there are two of them: Am-Goluz and Onen-Goluz, were built by Gilish when he first landed in Relanor. To the uninitiated they were signal beacons to warn Atonir of a Monnar attack and to summon aid.
“Gilish built them to be impregnable, and neither tower has ever been conquered. Even the Vorthenki could not breach their doors, although Thealum brought great engines to Onen-Goluz because he thought Vorish lay within. In years past they have been a refuge for the Imperial family in times of danger. Gishirian the Good was born in Am-Goluz and lived there until he came to the throne in his thirties.
“But they are more than beacons and refuges. They are the source of the sacred fire. The temple of Aton, in the palace of Atonir, was intended to be another source of the flame, but its flame was lost when… when Gilish fell at Kelerish. Alas, the flame of Onen-Goluz was also lost in the time of Kulash the Usurper. Both were rekindled from Am-Goluz, but they do not retain their former power.
“Because of the flame of Am-Goluz the Keeper lives to a great age. There is no man alive who remembers when the present keeper came into his office, I have heard it said that it was two hundred years ago.
