The pillars of creation

Oba had ever seen, as little more than a pigsty by contrast. He stood motionless, his mouth hanging, as he stared out at pool of water open to the sky, with trees-trees-growing on the other side, as if it were a woodland pond. Except that this was indoors, and the pond was surrounded by a low benchlike enclosure of polished rust-colored marble, and the pond was lined with blue glazed tiles. There were orange fish gliding through the pond. Real fish. Real orange fish. Indoors.

In his whole life Oba had never been so struck dumb by the grandeur, the beauty, the sheer majesty of a place.

"This is the palace?" he asked his escorts.

"Only a tiny part of it," one answered.

"Only a tiny part," Oba repeated in astonishment. "Is the rest as nice as this?"

"No. Most places are much more grand, with soaring ceilings, arches, and massive columns between balconies."

"Balconies? Inside?"

"Yes. People on different levels can look down on lower levels, down on grand courtyards and quadrangles."

"On some levels vendors sell their wares," the other man said. "Some areas are public areas. Some places are quarters for soldiers, or staff. There are some places where visitors may rent rooms."

Oba took this all in as he stared at the well-dressed people moving through the place, at the glass, marble, and polished wood.

"After I've seen some more of the palace," he announced to his two big, uniformed D'Haran escorts, "I will want a quiet and very private room-luxurious, mind you, but someplace out of the way where I won't be noticed. I will first want to purchase some decent clothes and some supplies. You two will stand watch and make sure that no one knows I'm here while I have a bath and get a good night's rest."

"How long will we be watching you?" the other man asked. "We will be missed if we're away for too long. If we're gone even longer, they will search for us and find your cell empty. Then they will come looking for you. They will soon know you are here."

Oba considered. "Hopefully, I can leave tomorrow. Will you be missed by then?"

"No," one of the two said, his eyes empty of everything but the desire to do Oba's bidding. "We were just leaving at the end of our guard watch. We shouldn't be missed before tomorrow."

Oba smiled. The voice had chosen the right men. "By then, I'll be on my way. But until then, I should enjoy my visit and see some of the palace.»

Oba's fingers glided over the handle of his knife. "Maybe tonight, I might even like the company of a woman at dinner. A discreet woman."

Both men bowed. Before he left, Oba would leave the two as nothing more than a stain of ashes on the floor of a lonely passageway. They would never tell anyone why his cell was empty.

And then… well, it was nearly spring, and in spring, who could tell where his fancy might turn?

One thing for sure, he was going to have to find Jennsen.

CHAPTER 44

Jennsen's astonishment was wearing off. She was becoming numb to the sight of the endless expanse of men, like some dark flood of humanity across the bottomland. The vast army had churned the broad plain between the rolling hills to a drab brown. Inestimable numbers of tents, wagons, and horses were crowded in among the soldiers. The drone of the horde, cut through with yelling, hoots, calls, whistles, the rattle of gear, the clatter of hooves, the rumble of wagons, the ringing rhythm of hammers on steel, the squeals of horses, and even occasional odd cries and screams of what almost sounded to Jennsen like women, could be heard for miles.

It was like gazing down on some impossibly huge city, but without buildings or pattern, as if all of man's ingenuity, order, and works had magically vanished, with the people left behind reduced to near savages under the gathering dark clouds, trying to make do against the forces of nature and having a grim time of it.

Nor was this the worst of the conditions Jennsen had seen. Several weeks before and farther to the south, she and Sebastian had passed through the very place where the army of the Imperial Order had wintered. An army of this size wore heavily on the land, but she had been shocked at how much worse it was when they stopped for any length of time. It would be years before that vast, festering wound in the landscape healed.

Worse still, throughout the long harsh winter, men by the thousands had fallen ill. That dismal place would be forever haunted by an endless expanse of haphazardly placed graves marking those left behind when the living had marched on. It was horrifying to see such a staggering loss of life to sickness; Jennsen feared to imagine the far worse carnage to come in the battle for freedom.