Shadowmasque Read Free

watching, waiting.

Part One

Chapter One
    When Death’s baleful hand,
Lies heavy on heart and soul,
Summon all of thy strength,
And dream the dream of life.
    —Abbess Halimer,
Cautions & Aphorisms
    The light of the day was fading through shades of rose and grey as Corlek Ondene made his way up Baraskel Hill by way of the old Treemonk’s path. The fresh smell of new leaves and burgeoning flowers hung in the cool air, and early blossom lay in small drifts against low bushes or scattered across the simple wooden benches that he passed every twenty paces. This was a place of communion and devotion, yet as Corlek walked through the scented stillness his thoughts kept straying to the letter which he carried in one of his robes inner pockets. A four-year old letter, which had reached him three years ago as he lay shivering with fever in an ocean-lashed tower out on the westernmost edge of the Stormbreaker Isles.
    In the letter his elder brother, Rhanye, had written of their father’s tragic death in a boating accident at the mouth of Sejeend’s harbour. After that had come a short account of how the Emperor’s ministers then found a way to rescind the family’s right to their manor and estate (which was later bestowed on an un-named court favourite). However, the Emperor insisted that his mother and brother be allowed to reside in the old summer house and receive an adequate annual stipend ‘as a measure of the crown’s unfailing generosity…’
    Corlek smiled bleakly as he trudged on, easily able to imagine Rhanye speaking those words with unrestrained sarcasm. The letter went on to reassure Corlek that despite their reduced circumstances all was well, and ended with the words — ‘In the six long years since your unjust exile, not a week has passed without our giving prayers and offerings at the Earthmother shrine in Drum Park. You are always in our thoughts, brother. May the Light be with you…’
    Through his robe he patted the shape of the letter, its every word graven into his memory by the hundred or more times he had read it these last three years. During the latter days of his mercenary wanderings every sentence had become a small treasure, a fragment of the life he had abandoned a decade ago. Yet nowhere in the letter had Rhanye mentioned the reason for Corlek’s mad flight from Sejeend and the lands of the Empire because, Corlek knew, his mother would have read it before its despatch.
    It would have been improper to mention that a young knight newly raised up to the Iron Guard, the Imperial bodyguard, had dishonoured the Emperor’s own daughter, would it not, mother?
he thought.
Especially when that young knight was and is your own son…
    It was getting dark beneath the trees that sheltered the path but there was light up ahead. Moments later the ground levelled out as Corlek emerged at the cleared, open crest of the hill, a flat, grassy area softly lit by a pair of glass-chaliced oil lamps on ornate stands. Dominating the clearing was a fountain shrine dedicated to the spirit of the divine Emperor Tauric I, the liberator of Sejeend who gave his life in the final struggle to vanquish the Lord of Twilight. Standing over a shell-like bowl was a pale marble statue of the boy-emperor, hands holding aloft a banner while his feet bore down on the back of a five-headed, reptilian beast from whose fanged jaws water poured. But there was a finger-length crack in the fountain’s bowl, an old one by the long stripe of green mould on the underside and the channel worn into the ground by the leaking water. In the lamplight, the rivulet looked almost black as it trickled away down the other, steeper side of Baraskel Hill, beside the curving rack of worn, wooden steps.
    Corlek stood by the fountain, one hand trailing in the cold water, listening to breezes sigh through the trees and inhaling the sweet fragrances they brought. But his mind was full of memories of Lyndil, the Emperor’s daughter whose beauty and grace