The Serpent Bride. Sara Douglass
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personal library (generally at night, when the tyrant was preoccupied with one of his wives, and not likely to come to the library looking for something to send him to sleep).
One day Ba’al’uz discovered a scroll which told of the legend of Chaos — Kanubai.
That had not been a good day, for as he’d read the legend through Ba’al’uz realised that the great being known as Kanubai was preparing for escape. The damned incompetent ancient priests must have unknowingly built their pyramid atop the very abyss where Kanubai was interred, and when they had opened the pyramid into Infinity … the stopper over the abyss had cracked.
Now Kanubai was seeking out helpers, for that great day when he would finally break free.
Like most of the insane, Ba’al’uz was a complete pragmatist. There was nothing he could do to stop Kanubai, and everything to gain if he aided him. Kanubai would be grateful when he finally stepped into the sunshine, and more than ready, perhaps, to repay those who had helped him.
Since then, Ba’al’uz had become the whisperer’s devoted servant, willing to do all he could to aid him. For the moment, that was little more than keep his eyes and ears open.
Great Lord, Ba’al’uz whispered.
He felt Kanubai’s interest, although the god did not speak.
An unusual event. Isaiah has brought back from the dead a man who I believe to be Axis SunSoar, former lord of the Icarii people in Tencendor. A man who was once of great power, but who is now powerless, and helpless. I do not know why Isaiah wants him, and I do not know how Isaiah managed to drag him out of death.
Isaiah is my enemy, Kanubai said. His voice sounded thick and a little muddled in Ba’al’uz’ mind, but it was much clearer than it had been twenty years ago, when Ba’al’uz had struggled to understand the god. The fact that Kanubai’s voice was now so much clearer meant that Kanubai was much, much closer than once he had been.
And mine, said Ba’al’uz. I dislike him intensely. Shall I kill him for you?
Kanubai did not respond, and Ba’al’uz could feel his interest seeping away.
I will watch for you, said Ba’al’uz. Inform you, as needed.
Do that, said Kanubai, and then his presence was gone, and Ba’al’uz blinked, and was once more aware of his surroundings.
BARON LIXEL’S RESIDENCE, MARGALIT
The negotiations between Maximilian, King of Escator, and Lady Ishbel Brunelle took many days, the process not helped by the marked hostility between Ishbel and StarWeb. Lixel was beginning to wish Maximilian had never included StarWeb in his delegation, for the birdwoman was proving more than awkward to deal with. Coupled with this was the fact Ishbel was conducting her own negotiations, unheard of when generally a woman’s parents or legal guardians did the negotiating on her behalf.
But then, this wasn’t precisely a normal family situation, was it?
By the third day of the negotiations, Lixel had become painfully aware that without StarWeb they might have concluded the entire deal within a brief three hours, and that mostly spent deciding over which wine they’d prefer to settle the matter. He wasn’t sure how much latitude Maximilian had given StarWeb, but was beginning to suspect the Icarii woman was overstepping the bounds.
The matter of the dowry, the lands, the manorial rights, the riches, and the marriage itself, all hung on one issue. According to StarWeb, Maximilian insisted that while a marriage ceremony could take place, the marriage would not be officially ratified, or made legal, until Ishbel produced a live child.
At that Ishbel had baulked. “A marriage is between a man and a woman,” she insisted. “It does not depend on children for legality.”
“Nonetheless,” StarWeb countered, “children are important to Maximilian, and the marriage will be as nothing to him without them.”
“It is an insult to me,” Ishbel said, “to suggest that I am nothing without the production of children. That I am nothing but a vessel in which to carry a child.”
The talks had centred on this argument for almost three days, and Lixel was despairing of finding any way round it. He tended to side with Ishbel. It was insulting to her to hinge the marriage’s legality on the production of live children; a marriage was far, far more than the children it created … it was an alliance between a man and a woman, between their families and their lands, and the children were incidental, if generally much desired and loved.
Lixel had also begun to half suspect that these demands made of Ishbel were in the manner of a test. Maximilian, through StarWeb, was pushing Ishbel as far as he dared, perhaps to see what manner of woman she was.
Or perhaps what manner of offer she truly represented.
“What Maximilian would like,” StarWeb said for the hundredth time, “is that you meet and, if all is agreeable, that a civil marriage ceremony take place … between the man Maximilian and the woman Ishbel, if you like.Once a child is born, then the marriage becomes a legality, between the King of Escator and the Lady Ishbel Brunelle.”
“The child would be a bastard,” Ishbel said, as she had been saying for three days.
“Not so,” said StarWeb. “There has already been a marriage ceremony … it just has not been ratified. The child would not be regarded as a bastard at all.”
Lixel closed his eyes, trying to summon the strength to step in and try to mediate some compromise. But before he could do so, Ishbel spoke again.
“Perhaps if Maximilian would agree not to wait until the child is born to ratify the marriage, but to do so when it is clear that I carry Maximilian’s child.”
Lixel opened his eyes, astounded at this concession on Ishbel’s part. There had been no hint of it until now, but to give way that much ground … even if the concession had been days in the arriving …
“Done!” said StarWeb. “Marriage shall be ratified when you are pregnant … and in Ruen.”
“Accepted,” said Ishbel. “Although the dowry won’t be Maximilian’s until the marriage is ratified, either. Until then, I remain in control of all properties and rights.”
Lixel looked at StarWeb, sure she would object. To his surprise, she inclined her head. “Then I am sure Maximilian will be most keen to get you pregnant,” she said. “You shall surely not lack any attention from your husband.”
“That’s going too far, StarWeb,” Lixel put in, noting that Ishbel had coloured faintly at that last. “You overreach yourself.”
StarWeb shrugged, not in the slightest bit apologetic, and Lixel thought he’d best regain some control of the situation.
“It is a long and arduous journey between Margalit and Ruen, my lady,” he said to Ishbel. “May I suggest that, should Maximilian be agreeable to the terms mooted about this table, that you meet halfway? Perhaps at Pelemere? That way, it is not so far distant for either of you to return home if, at the eventual meeting, you don’t suit each other.”
Ishbel hesitated, then inclined her head. “Agreed,” she said, and StarWeb smiled.
“Then I shall return immediately to Ruen,” she said, “and put it to Maximilian. I am sure he shall agree.”
She rose. “At Pelemere then, my lady,” and with that she stepped to the window and lifted out into the gloomy sky.
Ishbel hoped she had done the right thing. She’d held out as long as she could, loathing StarWeb for her persistence, and for putting her, Ishbel, archpriestess of the