The Seedbearing Prince: Part I (49 page)

“The Montollos Regents created the Prevailers
long ago,” the Defender allowed, “to lessen a need for Defenders
from the Ring.”

“They don't mix well, either,” Lurec said.
“Defenders and Prevailers, that is. I would avoid them myself.
Montollos always finds ways to set itself against the Ring.”

Nassir gave the Preceptor a long look, but
his words were for Dayn. “You would do well to keep that in mind
for as long as we’re here.”

Dayn shrugged. “I will. I bear no ill will on
any man.” His eyes narrowed as he studied the white spire they were
approaching. The plaza they stood upon floated like a chunk of
driftwood on a deep river. The sensation bothered Dayn. For all of
the intricacies of these ribbons, he felt powerless to control his
own movement. Frowning, he pointed in the distance. “That tower.
It’s not moving at all.”

“The Tower Axios is especially for
offworlders,” Lurec said. “It’s the central point of Montollos, and
the only tower connected to the bedrock.”

“Is that where we’re going?”

“Peace, no.” Lurec glanced at Nassir. The
plaza began curving to their left, edging away from the Tower
Axios. “Offworld dignitaries must add their names to the Great
Registry. That’s touted as a point of honor.”

Nassir snorted. “Yet required by Regent law,
so offworlder movements can be tracked. Especially guests from the
Ring.”

“You really think they’ll listen to us?” Dayn
asked. “Maybe we should’ve gone back to the Ring.”

The Defender rounded on him suddenly. “As
much as I despise this place, I would keep the Seed in the
Prevailer's Sanctum itself than see it given over to our true
enemies. Have you forgotten the Echowind Split so easily?”

The Defender turned around, waiting for the
plaza to rest again. Lurec placed a hand on Dayn's shoulder and
murmured in his ear.

“The World Belt is not so simple a place as
you wish it to be. Some enmities run deep, lad. It is good we are
here. With Prevailers to keep the order, Montollos is one of the
safest cities in the World Belt. If peace favors us, your voice
will spread to every world from here.”

Dayn nodded reluctantly. He hated feeling
like he was not living up to his promise with the Lord Ascendant,
but understood the Defender’s sense of urgency.

Lurec nodded toward a bored looking
Montollene man who stood to one side of the platform. He wore a
yellow tabard over a crisp white shirt. “That man is a wayfinder.”
Dayn blinked at the familiar term. “Or pathman, as the Montollene
call them. Ask and they can direct you to your destination.” Dayn
nodded dubiously. The man looked like he might fall asleep at my
moment.

“The Defender knows someone in the city who
can find us lodging, away from Regent influence,” Lurec said.
“We’ll be able to remain here in secret while we seek out
Shir-Hun’s Consul. Soon enough, we’ll―”

“Ho there! Peace favor the Ring!”

Nassir and Lurec both cringed. Their bridge
floated to a stop among plenty of stares. Nassir strode quickly
toward a waving man, attempting to quiet him. Smile lines
crisscrossed his fair skin, and straight white hair flowed around a
bald patch on his crown as he came closer, murmuring apologetically
whenever his rounded belly bumped a Montollene from his path.

“Vake,” Nassir said. The irritation faded
from his face. “It’s been too long, my friend.”

“Aye, it has,” the man knuckled his forehead
and gave the slightest of bows. People seemed more concerned with
moving around them than with stopping to eavesdrop, fortunately. “I
thought that was you, Brother Nassir. Not an easy man to disguise.
Wise to shed your armor, or fall victim to Montollos courtesy.”

Nassir made quick introductions. Vake’s deep
bow made the Preceptor redden, visible even with his new Aran
suntan. Dayn received a hearty handshake, which suited him just
fine.

“Welcome to the Great City. Any friend of the
Ring is a friend of mine,” Vake said, grinning broadly. Dayn
immediately liked the man. They followed him to a different edge of
the platform, and stopped to wait for an approaching bridge.

“I'm retired Ringbound myself, used to run
transports from Jendini through the torrent. That's how I know
Nassir. Once those days was done with―my hands don't work the vapor
like they used to―well, I didn’t want to spend the rest of my years
without seeing some of the Belt, or finding some other use for
these old bones. Life on Ista Cham was too dull, and I could never
get used to Dervishi days―or women for that matter―so I ended up
here.

“A little bit of everything and everybody,”
he continued as they began to walk. The man weaved effortlessly
through the crowds with an ease that made Dayn slightly envious.
“Used the rest of the Ring's Blessing to open my old flophouse, and
been at it ever since. Things have changed a lot since then,
though. Did you know there are more Cutremursh living in the city
than there are on Cutremur?”

“You’re from Jendini?” Dayn asked. He knew
little of the world, except they kept independent of the World
Belt. Not quite like the raiders of the Eadrinn Gohr, but Dayn
always wondered at any world’s people who refused Shard's gift.

Vake squinted up at him. “I may have been
born on a single rock, my boy, but I claim the entire Belt as my
own. I'm no Preceptor, but I know my lineage, and―”

“Our needs are pressing.” Nassir cut in
quickly before Vake could finish. “I didn’t know you personally
owned lodging. We shall purchase several nights' stay.”

“You most certainly shall not,” Vake said
indignantly. “I’ll gladly offer my best rooms to you free of
charge.”

The Ringmen protested at once, but he would
have none of it. “Not that I would stick my nose in where it
doesn’t belong, but I’d wager you’re avoiding the Tower Axios.”
Nassir said nothing as they walked, but Vake continued on in a
conspiratorial whisper. “None of my business, of course. None of my
business. But if you ask me, it's past time those fool Regents were
brought to bear. Past time. You can stay as long as you like, and I
guarantee it will be quiet as you like.” Vake finished with a curt
nod.

“Thank you, Vake.” Nassir did not feign the
gratitude in his voice. “That will save us more strife than you
could possibly know.”

“I thought so.”

“Havenkeeper, we need to gain access to the
Consul’s Tower. Particularly the Consul from Ara.”

“Well, it’s fortunate you’re speaking to a
well-connected man.” Vake rubbed his chin in thought. “I remember
the name now. Bargis. That’s the Aran you seek. He’s related to
Shir-Hun, and from what I hear, a heavy gambler at the arena.”

Lurec and Nassir shared a long look.

“Is your haven near the arena?” Lurec
inquired. Dayn’s heart skipped at the request. He searched the
Preceptor's face.

“Not far at all. When the towers rise, you’ll
need to get lucky with the skybridges you take, but we’ll be no
more than a half hour away. When the towers fall, just two bridges
will have you there in a blink. Going to be crammed with
offworlders, though, with how the Regents are tinkering with the
Cycle. Grand waste of time if you ask me, but good for
business.”

Dayn could hold his silence no longer. “You
really mean to let me see The Victor's Arena?”

“Could we truly stop you?” Nassir asked
dryly. “You've already slipped out of a guarded palace. With so
many offworlders here, at least you won’t be out of place.”

“The Aran you seek will be in the sky suites
that overlook the arenas,” Vake added. “The lad will not be far
from you, so long as he stays inside.”

Dayn nodded eagerly. “I’ll never be able to
repay you for this.”

“A small thing compared to the service you’ve
done for the Belt,” Lurec replied. “Besides, the Consuls won’t
accept your presence as readily as the High did on Ara. Reminding
them of their dependence on Shard’s Pledge would not be wise.”

Dayn shrugged, suddenly sheepish. “I haven't
really done anything.”

“It may feel that way now, but think of the
people you've touched,” Lurec said. “Within a month, Overseer
Feerthul and the Highest Shir-Hun will restore peace―if they
haven’t done so already. You’ve tied them to a common purpose. It
will be a great day for the Belt if your words hold the same weight
in the Consul’s Tower.”

Vake's eyes went wide enough to float out of
their sockets, but he remained silent, sparing sidelong looks at
Dayn.

“Too often, the Ring is mistrusted,” Nassir
said. “Your presence brings new hope to a cause long thought dead.
A Defender and Preceptor alone could not have done this.”

Open speculation painted Vake’s face.
Shardian,
the havenkeeper mouthed to himself. “I shall take
you to the arena myself,” he said. They changed direction, hurrying
to catch a different skybridge.

***

Dayn fought down his excitement. He wanted to
leap for joy―the Montollene ground was weak enough for an easy
backflip―but dared not do anything to make the Ringmen reconsider
their decision.

Vake gestured grandly at the incredible
structure before them as their platform drew near. “The Grand Arena
of Victors,” he intoned. Dayn felt more the mudfooted farmer than
ever as his eyes drank in the sight. Three vast domes big enough to
swallow entire cities within rested atop one of the great towers,
itself easily a mile wide. A Y-shaped structure of metal and
crystal interlinked the domes where their edges touched. Each of
the structure’s three wings marched proudly to the middle of the
arena like spokes on a wheel. A metal spire rested atop the central
point, where a defiant looking statue stood, one fist raised to the
sky in challenge. The statue looked like a speck in the distance,
but Dayn judged that it stood fifty spans tall.

“There will be matches today, I hope?”

Vake shrugged at Lurec's question. “Hard to
say, Preceptor. The Regents have thrown the Cycle into a bit of a
frenzy with this stunt. Most of the worlds are not even represented
here. They’ll be angry at how they are ranked when the Cycle begins
in earnest next year.”

Nestled between the major domes lay fluted
archways large enough to fit a windmill, grand entrances which put
the Olende palace to shame. The plaza here on this tower-top was
grafted with intricate designs and lavish fountains of green water.
Nassir stopped well outside of the entrance and turned to Dayn.

“Should something go wrong, and the Consuls
reject our petition, the havenkeeper will seek you out.” He shot a
quick look at Vake, who immediately clasped his hands behind his
back and strolled away, out of earshot. “You can trust him. I hope
to get word to Adazia, perhaps find a Sender among the towers who
is friendly to the Ring.”

“You will need this more than I.” Dayn pulled
the Seed out of his pack, and passed it to the Preceptor. Lurec
slipped it into his overcoat with a nod of thanks.

“It might prove useful to show it to this
Bargis,” Lurec agreed. “I will see it safely back to your
hands.”

“And I won't leave the arena until you return
for me, on my word,” Dayn promised.

A tension Dayn did not notice before left the
Defender's face. “We will look for you at the tables inside this
main hall once we return. Enjoy this moment, Shardian. Your service
has earned a day's reprieve.”

Vake wandered back toward them. “May I take
your bag, young master?” he asked. “Much easier to see the arena
without such a burden.”

“No, I'll keep it,” Dayn said carefully.

“As you say. There are pathmen inside, should
you become lost. They can tell you if any spectacles are set to
happen soon.”

The Ringmen and havenkeeper bid Dayn
farewell. He immediately swept inside, a huge grin covering his
face. He knew the Ringmen were purposefully keeping him from
underfoot, like a child in Wia Wells sent to the tangletoys while
his parents barter. But Dayn did not care, not this time.

Probabilities

We owe the Ring a debt, for taking in these shrewd
men and training them as Preceptors. Otherwise, every world in the
Belt would be fetching their tea and washing their feet, and
thanking them the whole while for lording over such fools.

-Overlord Torin Blancid, after signing the Treaty of
Irshev

L
urec watched the boy
practically float into the arena. “A small thing, but I hope it was
wise.”

“Better to keep him out of danger for as long
as possible,” Nassir said. “A cell in the Tower of Chastening would
be a poor end to his quest. Vake?”

The havenkeeper jumped, lost in his own study
of Dayn. “Yes, Brother Defender?”

“I need you to find every transport out of
the City before nightfall in case we need to leave quickly.”

Vake swallowed. “I depart to serve.” He
winced, laughing softly at himself. “Old habits. Once Ring, always
Ringman. I’ve a feeling you’ll stay longer than you suspect.
There’s something about that boy, Brother Defender, he carries
himself well. Either way, my old flophouse will house you as long
as you need.” With a curt nod, he set off for the nearest
skybridge, balancing all of their possessions with him.

“If I could only trust more men so easily,”
Nassir muttered.

Lurec shoved into his gray overcoat, and they
set off through the crowd together. Lurec marveled at Montollos,
silently lamenting over the Ring’s ill regard. If not for that, he
would visit here often. The craftsmanship of the buildings,
combined with the mixture of people from all over the World
Belt...Montollos was as close of an approximation to the future as
he could imagine. Notwithstanding the Regents’ foolishness, of
course. Still, the fact that the Great City flourished despite
their presence provided him with ample hope.