‘”John Ismay”, eh?’ said the middle-aged Elf, ‘that’s a very odd name’
John was sitting on one side of a huge wooden desk and the sense of
distance was being exaggerated by the oddness of the conversation.
‘It’s a normal name in Eth, my Lord’ he explained
John Palaeologus’s house was a respectable size for a duke, and the
furnishings and fittings were lavish. Helios was not a poor place.
‘Eth, you say?’ grumbled the Duke, ‘I don’t know much about that.’
John nodded patiently.
‘Of course you don’t. It is a long way away from here…’
The Duke thought a little more about this.
‘Is that where you human fellas come from?’ he asked
John nodded again, just a little more wearily.
The Duke nodded patiently too. Then nothing much happened for a minute
or two. John tried again.
‘You know about the Elven empire in my world?’ he asked, ‘the Empire of
Visneoria?’
The Duke considered this. Then he nodded again.
‘Yes, definitely heard of it. Never been though’ he said, pouring
himself and John another sherry. John
sighed to himself.
‘Do you know how to get there, my lord?’ John asked, sipping the sherry
for want of something better to do.
‘Where’s that, young elf?’ responded the Duke.
‘To Visneoria’ said John, ignoring the solecism.
‘Oh, in Belenor thing… what was it called again?’
‘Skiophos’ repeated John for about the fifth time.
‘Belenor Skiophos, yes, that’s the thing. You want to know how to get
there?’
John nodded and said ‘yes, I do’ loudly at the same time.
‘Now, that was something that my father told me, I’m sure. And I know
that I was meant to keep it a secret. So, all in all, it’s probably a good
thing that I’ve probably forgotten it’
The Duke paused for a moment.
‘Not so good for you, of course. Rum deal, I’d say’
John wondered why he’d bothered to set up this meeting. It had wasted
him three days already and now it didn’t seem worth the effort. He tried something else.
‘So you’re the ruler of Aristarios, my Lord?’ he asked
The Duke smiled.
‘In name, yes, but I found out early on that it was easier to leave the
day to day decisions to my nephews, oh, and their wives. They both made very
good matrimonial choices. A lot of good brains in my family. That’ll be my
sister, not me, I mean, who has ‘em…’ he laughed.
‘So Alexis and his brother help you with executive decisions?’
‘That’s right – thank the Uchbenoi’
John hesitated – he knew that revealed ignorance could dangerous but
that concealed ignorance might be fatal. He pressed on.
‘You must forgive me, my Lord, for my provincial witlessness, but I do
not know who the Uchbenoi are…’ he said slowly and carefully.
The Duke looked at him
curiously, as if he’d just admitted to being illiterate.
‘Do you not have gods in Eth?’ he asked
John thought about this. Did they, really? There were the half-gods of
hearth and home, demi-gods in some wildernesses and, of course, Ionadon and
Rhopadon, but were they really gods? What counted as one?
‘Yes’ said John, simplifying things, ‘we do but they don’t use that
name. Is that what you call your gods?’
It was the Duke’s turn to have a think. John wondered if the Duke’s
train of thoughts were at all similar to his.
‘Yes’ said the Duke, ‘that’s the stuff, they’re our gods, indeed’
John noticed that the Duke used
the elven form ‘Deos’ rather than the usual ‘Theos’. His Elven wasn’t good enough to know the
difference, if anything, between the two terms, and he thought that it might be
too difficult to ask this particular elf.
‘Who are they?’ asked John directly.
The Duke looked puzzled.
‘Well, they made the world, I think’ he said, picking his way through
the words ‘I never did concentrate all that well at school’
‘You mean they made Helios?’ asked John.
‘Umm – everywhere I think, even your place’ the Duke mumbled.
‘And, do you see them now?’
The Duke’s face creased as he concentrated on the answer.
‘I never have’ he said, ‘but father communicates with them… in some
way, perhaps. I’m not really sure about that…’ his voice trailed off.
‘Your father is the Basileus?’
‘He is, and has been for a very long time’
‘Where does he live?’
The Duke laughed again.
‘In Epipelagia, where else?’
‘Do you see him much?’
‘No, not really – he’s very busy’ said the Duke, his expression sagging
a little.
‘I’m sorry to hear that… It’s just that I wondered if you might be able
to help me with something’
‘Yes, my dear fellow – what is it?’
John knew that the only way from here was up, so he risked the next
question.
‘I’d really appreciated it, Lord Palaeologus’ he said, ‘If you could introduce me to your
father’
***
It wasn’t as
easy as that, of course. There was much fuss among the Duke’s servants and
advisors and a number of days waiting in Alexis’s house for some decision about
what they could do next. John would have liked to have talked to Alexis about
Helios but sadly he was away on business for the whole of the time that John
was in his house. Still, his house was
comfortable and he was able to send one of the house servants to town to get
the extra ingredients needed for the mail ink.
As soon as he could, John sat down with his scrap of mail paper and his
homemade ink and tried to write a message to Hardacre. He had enough room to
write about six lines:
To Laurence Hardacre, Kinspit. Stuck in
Belenor Helios. Find out identity of place. Cannot find way out. Reply with way out if possible.
Deep vault destroyed in Blue Dimension. Blue dimension identity? CRS tried to
destroy scroll, so important, clearly. Be careful in Melloreis. Dwarven Magic
dangerous. Proceed cautiously, many risks. John.
Once he’d written it, he
whispered ‘cera’ and the paper faded
away, leaving a smell of sulphur lingering in the air.
After that it was just waiting and worrying. What if there was no way
out of here? But then he reassured himself – if they knew about Skiophos then
there must be a way to get there. He knew that he needed to talk to the
Basileus. However, so far it looked like everyone was doing everything possible
to block his progress. The Basileus was away, he was undertaking important
state business, and would it be possible for him to see an official, instead?
Perhaps a letter would suffice?
Eventually he had to resort to some half-truths and bombast. He claimed
to be an envoy of the High Lord’s and emphasised the military might of his home
country and the need to make contact with the Basileus on urgent matters of
state. This wasn’t enough to get an audience with the Basileus, of course, but
it did get him to Epipelagia, after a week’s journey through the green, lush
fertility of Eastern Helios, in an official carriage and accompanied by a
servant and a coachman. They treated him very well.
After that he was given a small apartment to stay in and the promise
that he’s soon see an official. During the day, while he was waiting,
apparently endlessly, he we would walk along the scrubbed white marble of the
harbour and stroll into the cork oak forests above the city where bright green
parrots flapped through the canopy. In the evenings he had acquired a group of
young Helians with whom he would drink and dine, and who were fascinated by his
talk of Skiophos and its Universities. It puzzled John that there seemed to be
no proper places of higher learning in Helios, just the civil service training
colleges, although, admittedly, there did seem to be a lot of civil servants.
John soon learned that Helian society was very hierarchical, and that there was
very little chance that he’d ever get to meet the Basileus, or indeed anyone in
a position of any authority.
The days wore on and he began to feel separated more and more from his
own world, trapped in this pleasant bubble of waiting and relaxing. He started to wonder whether there was
anything really happening anywhere else and he began to press less and less for
the meeting with any officials. He was also learning so much about Helios and
its culture from his new friends. Perhaps he could rest here just a little
longer.
And then he got the letter – the letter on grey mail paper.
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