Chapter 13
'It served us damn well right!'
ON the day after he arrived at Allaban, Shadow had flown with Karaman to Femie, there to meet his prince.
He had been warned, but no warning could have fully prepared him. Karaman had not thought to mention the nauseating stench of gangrene, or the madness that days of unbearable agony put into a man's eyes, or the flatness of the bandages on a face whose nose had been killed by frostbite and so amputated. There was irony in that. Vindax would not look like the duke of Foan now, he would not look like anyone.
There was more horrible irony. His hands were bandaged stumps, and the doctors thought the rest of the fingers would have to go also, but he had lost no toes. So he had feet but no real hands; yet his arms were uninjured and his legs paralyzed. Sky sickness was caused by bubbles in the blood, Karaman said, quoting the ancient texts. At some point in her frenzy WindStriker had plunged down almost to the desert floor, to air of great pressure. Then she must have soared high again. Eagles could do that; men could not. The return to the depths at hot, suffocating Femie had not been made in time to prevent the damage.
The doctors thought that the patient might live but were still not sure.
Shadow stared in silence at the bundled horror on the bed and said a prayer that Vindax might die. Ukarres had indeed been lucky.
But honor required that he speak the prince's name, and the eyes opened in the gap left for them within the bandages. They stared for a long time blankly, as though there were no mind behind them. Then the lips twisted into a smile.
'I knew you would come,' Vindax whispered. After that, Shadow was looking through tears and did not need to see the details.
Karaman cut the visit short; he made the return journey slowly, stopping frequently at isolated farmhouses to chat with old friends. He introduced 'Citizen Shadow' to innumerable people, all of whom offered food and hospitality and wanted to reminisce about old times, it was not mere socializing, he assured Shadow--a gradual ascent was more wisdom from the ancient texts. Shadow was too shocked and depressed to care.
These easy-living rural folk rang no watch bells, taking their time undivided. When Karaman reached home with Shadow, they sat on the porch, Karaman in his ancient rocker, Shadow slumped on the couch. His body was telling him that it was time for bed, yet between him and the view of fields and sunlit orchards glimmered that anonymous bandaged head and its mad eyes, and he doubted that he would ever sleep again.
Karaman disappeared briefly and came back with two mugs and a few large crocks. 'We make an excellent cider here,' he suggested.
'I'll get drunk,' Shadow growled.
Karaman chuckled. 'That was what I said.'
So they sat and quaffed cider and talked, and Karaman told of many things which should have been unbelievable and were somehow not when wrapped in his gentle, casual good humor. Shadow drank three mugfuls to each of Karaman's and eventually spoke of politics and attempted murder and of Vindax. The generation-long silence which had hung over Eagle Dome was breached, and slowly the nightmare vision standing guard in his mind became blurred.
'When was the prince born?' Karaman asked.
'Why?' Shadow said cautiously.
The old eyes twinkled in their wrinkles as the old man saw that Shadow was not quite drunk enough to lose all discretion. 'Just nosy. He looks so like the duke.'
'He did!' Shadow said. 'But the duke says he never met you.'
'Then call one of us a liar,' Karaman replied. 'Me, by choice--it would be safer. Aurolron must have noticed. I wonder why he did not disown the prince? Not in character!'
'He never met the duke,' Shadow said, wondering if that was a lie also, thinking of that strange letter Ukarres had shown him.
Karaman smiled. 'Once I spent several days with both of them together. Certainly call me a liar before you try it on the king.'
A meeting between the king and the rebel? Fuzzily Shadow pondered that. It must have been a very well-kept secret. Yet he could believe this threadbare, patched old man more easily than Aurolron or his premier noble.
'Where? At Ninar Foan? On the Rand?'
Karaman shook his head, holding out the cider crock once more. 'On the Range, at a little place called Schagarn.'
'I know it,' Shadow said, surprised. 'One of the royal manors. He used it as a hunting lodge before he gave up flying.'
'Right,' Karaman said. The two men stared out over the hills for a while, waiting on each other to speak.
'Was the queen there?' Shadow asked at last. He saw the twinkle return to Karaman's eyes.
'No. We're a pair of old gossips, friend Shadow.'
Shadow giggled drunkenly, then became serious. 'So far as Vindax knows, it was not possible for the duke to have fathered him. He was born on 1374.'
There was a long silence, then Karaman said, 'I would not say this to anyone else, but you have earned his confidence and I shall give you mine. Yes, it was possible. Just. 1170 or thereabouts.'
So the mystery was solved, here in far-off Allaban.
Karaman sighed. 'It was my fault, I suppose, or at least I was the excuse.'
'She betrayed her husband and her king at Schagarn?'
'Not there, but nearby. And I find it hard to think of it as a betrayal, Shadow. I suppose I am a romantic, or was then. They were a tragic couple. He was noble, she was royal. He was handsome, she was beautiful beyond legend. They were as much in love as two human beings can be, like eagles, yet doomed to have only a few precious hours together and then be forever parted.
'It was supposed to be a political meeting. Her father had just died, and she claimed to be queen of Allaban, so I had asked for her to be included. Aurolron had refused, saying he would speak for her as husband and as overlord. I had agreed to that. But after our business was over, after the king had left Schagarn and we were supposed to be leaving at first watch, Foan took me aside and said he had made arrangements. I said it did not matter now; he insisted, and I suppose I guessed. There were many guards, you can be sure, but they were watching the aerie and the stables. The two of us slipped away on bicycles to another house, not far off.'
Shadow's knuckles were white as he gripped the cider mug, his alcoholic haze vanished like a burned leaf.
'There was no one else there except our host,' Karaman said, gazing away into space and time. 'No servants around. She gave me her word on the treaty without taking her eyes off Foan. The host tactfully suggested that he and I take a stroll. Soon I said I was weary and wanted to rest before our long journey began. Would he take me back to Schagarn? He did, and when we all arose at three bells, the duke was back also. So I suppose it was my fault. I suppose it happened, having seen the prince. Was I being deliberately nasty to Aurolron, I wonder?'
'Where was this exactly?' Shadow demanded.
'Oh, a lovely spot,' Karaman sighed. 'One of the old, old castles, fallen into humble straits as a local manor house. Set in a wooded dell with a tiny pond in front of it...ivy and gables and wild flowers...a storybook couple in a storybook setting. No, it could not have been betrayal. It was love, and surely love can justify itself.'
The king's letter had said:
