King Kiritan paused to look around the room. His eyes settled on a Valari warrior bearing on his tunic the green falcons of the Rezu clan. I guessed that this must be Sar Ianar, Duke Rezu’s son. King Kiritan regarded him scornfully. Great blame he had told of, and blame lived on in his icy blue eyes almost three thousand years after Godavanni’s death.
As the King gripped his golden wand of rule and sat up even straighter upon his golden throne, he resumed his story. The part that he now told was more well known, for it had spread into all lands as the Song of Kalkamesh and Telemesh – the very same song that Duke Rezu’s minstrel had sung for us in his castle. Now the King told of how Kalkamesh returned, and with the aid of one of Morjin’s most trusted priests, the traitor Sartan Odinan, stole into the underground city of Argattha and stole the Lightstone; and of how Kalkamesh was captured and tortured while Sartan escaped with the Lightstone – only to lose it again or hide it somewhere unknown to history or to any man.
‘Where the Lightstone now lies, no one knows,’ King Kiritan said. ‘But we do know that it will be found. You have all heard the prophecy of Ayondela Kirriland, but we will repeat it here for the words must not be forgotten: “The seven brothers and sisters of the earth with the seven stones will set forth into the darkness. The Lightstone will be found, the Maitreya will come forth, and a new age will begin.”’
I waited for him to supply the missing lines of which Kane had told us, but of course he did not. Kane and I – and Atara, Maram and Master Juwain – all traded knowing looks as a great stir of excitement spread through the hall.
‘Ayondela did not live to see this new age,’ King Kiritan told us, ‘for she was struck down by an assassin sent by Morjin, who would silence those who speak of hope. But he has no power to silence us now. We must now speak of our great hope: and that is the very dream of the Star People who came to Ea ages ago. It was their purpose to create a civilization that would give birth to men and women as they were born to be. Men who would transcend themselves, in body and spirit, and return to the stars as Elijin; immortal women shining like suns who would follow the Law of the One and go on to ever deeper life in the glorious forms of the Galadin themselves.
‘But where are these men and women? Where is this great civilization? Where is the golden cup that will restore the lands of Ea to their promise and hope? We know that it was stolen from us by Aryu; and kept behind the Morning Mountains by selfish kings; and taken away by Morjin, only to become lost yet again. For all of an age, Morjin has sought it – only to be opposed and thwarted. By the Brotherhoods, by the Sisterhood of Scryers, by great kings, by brave people in all the free lands. But now Morjin has conquered Acadu and Uskudar; his priests rule Karabuk, Hesperu and Galda in his name. Surrapam may soon fall. If it is he who finds the Lightstone, all of Ea will surely fall. Then the seven brothers and sisters of the earth will go forth into the darkness and not return; the Maitreya will come forth only to be crucified; a new age will begin: the Age of Darkness that will last a thousand times three thousand years.’
King Kiritan, who was now breathing hard, paused to swallow painfully. I could almost feel his thirst and desire to call for a glass of water. But he would not be seen surrendering to his body’s needs at such a moment. And so he pressed his thin, dry lips together as he sat tensely on his throne.
And then he cried out, ‘And that is why it must be we who find the Lightstone first! One of us here in this hall tonight! Or seven, or seventy, or a thousand – who will join voices with me and vow to make this Quest?’
For a moment, no one in the hall moved. Then Count Dario, with his flaming red hair and burning eyes, put his hand to his sword as he cried out, ‘I will seek the Lightstone!’
Behind him, two more Alonian knights touched hands to swords and shouted, ‘I will!’ as well. And then five knights from the Elyssu called out their promise, and all at once, like a fire shooting through dry wood, the fervor to regain this lost cup spread through the hall as hundreds of voices began crying out as one: ‘I will! I will! I will!’
There was magic in that moment, and I found myself calling out the same pledge I had made in the hall of my father’s castle. Atara and Master Juwain joined me, and Maram, despite his doubts, added his booming voice to the clamor. Even Kane seemed swept away by the great passion of it all and growled out his assent.
After a while, when the multitude had quieted and the stones of the hall grew silent again, King Kiritan drew forth his sword and held it by the blade for all to see. He said to us, ‘Swear this oath, then. By your swords, by your honor, by your lives – swear that you will seek the Lightstone and never rest until it is found. Swear that you will seek it by road, by water, by fire, by darkness, by the paths of the mind and the heart. Swear that your seeking will not end unless illness, wounds or death strike you down first. Swear that you will seek the Cup of Heaven for all of Ea and not yourselves.’
It was a harsh oath that King Kiritan called us to make, and more than one knight present bit his lip and shook his head. But many more called out that they would do what was asked of them. Atara, Kane and I did; Master Juwain, though no knight, did as well. I was afraid that Maram might balk at speaking such binding words. But he surprised me, and himself, by vowing to seek the Lightstone to his very death.
‘Ah, Maram, my friend,’ I heard him muttering to himself a moment later, ‘what have you done?’
At first, I supposed that he had become drunk on the powerful wine of fellowship and had forgotten himself. And then I saw him staring at a pretty Alonian woman; she had hair like burnished bronze and full red lips and adoring eyes for all the knights who had vowed to make the quest. If Maram failed to catch her attention, I thought, there would be many other women in the coming years who would want to bless his bravery by giving him what gifts they could.
Now the time had come for King Kiritan to bless those who had made vows. These numbered perhaps a thousand of those present. King Kiritan called for them to move toward his throne. Even as my friends and I began pressing through the crush of people in the hall, King Kiritan stepped down from his throne. Then he called out to ten of his grooms, who walked down the southern aisle bearing a golden chest between each pair of them. They set the five chests at King Kiritan’s feet near the first step of his throne. King Kiritan smiled as he bowed toward the handsome woman I had presumed to be his wife. And so she was. She had golden hair almost the color of Atara’s and a haughty manner, and the King presented her as Queen Daryana Ars Narmada.
The Queen opened one of the chests and removed a large, gold medallion suspended from a golden chain. She held it high above her head for everyone to behold. The medallion was cast into the shape of a sunburst with flames shooting off of it. As I would soon see, a cup stood out in relief at its center. Seven rays, also in relief, streamed out of the cup toward the medallion’s rim. There, around the rim, were written words in ancient Ardik that those making the quest should never forget: Sura Longaram Tat-Tanuan Galardar.
Queen Daryana gave this medallion to King Kiritan, who then draped it over the head of Count Dario, the first knight to have called out his pledge. After the King had given his blessing, Queen Daryana reached into the chest for another medallion, even as another knight stepped up to the King. This knight, too, received both medallion and blessing. And so it went, the Queen removing the medallions from the chest one by one as the King gave them with his own hands to the many questers lining up before him. As there were a thousand of us, however, this gift-giving took a long time. My friends and I were the last to enter the hall, and so we would be the last to receive our medallions.
While we stood waiting among the multitude in the hall, various knights announced their plans for finding the Lightstone. Many, of course, would journey to Ea’s many oracles in hope of receiving prophecies that might direct them. Some would search the islands off Nedu, for they believed that perhaps the Lightstone that Morjin claimed at the end of the Age of Law was only one of the many Fal
se Gelstei and that the true and only Gelstei remained somewhere on the island where Aryu originally left it. Three knights from Delu were determined to journey into the Great Southern Forest of Acadu while others planned voyages across the sea. I heard knights vowing to seek the Lightstone in old sanctuaries or museums or in the ruins of ancient cities. A few decided to set forth alone, but many more were forming into bands of seven, for good luck and protection, but also because the prophecy spoke of ‘the seven brothers and sisters of the earth with the seven stones.’ These seven stones everyone presumed to be gelstei, but where the questers might find them no one knew, for most of the gelstei forged during the Age of Law had been destroyed or lost, and those few that remained were jealously guarded like the treasures they were.
With Master Juwain pressed against my side, I thought of the varistei that Pualani had given him and of the black stone that Kane had cut from the Gray’s forehead. Kane, standing just ahead of me, had surely secreted this stone on his person. I knew that he would guard it to the death from anyone who tried to take it from him. Of lesser treasures, he seemed to care nothing. He nodded toward King Kiritan and the chests of medallions and said, ‘That’s a pretty piece of gold that the King’s handing out, and a thousand of them must have cost him dearly. But gold’s only gold – it’s the true gold that we’re after. We’ve made our vows to find it. Now why don’t we leave before something keeps us from our quest?’
‘But we haven’t received the King’s blessing,’ I whispered to him.
‘If it’s a blessing you want,’ he grumbled, ‘I’ll give you mine.’
Thank you,’ I said. ‘But you’re not a king.’
At this, Kane ground his teeth together as he stared at me. Master Juwain said that we should certainly stay to receive King Kiritan’s blessing while Maram, in his own mind, was likely already strutting before the ladies with his new golden medallion shining from his chest. As for Atara, she hadn’t come all this way from the Wendrush and fought two battles to turn aside now. Each time Queen Daryana handed a medallion to the King, Atara’s blue eyes flared like stars as a fierce desire ignited inside her.
The great nobles of Alonia were the first to receive their medallions that night. I heard them call out their names one by one. These included Belur Narmada, Julumar Hastar, Breyonan Eriades, Javan Kirriland and Hanitan Marshan. All were scions of the ancient Five Families, each of which had been founded in the Age of the Mother by the Aryan invaders who sailed with Bohimir Marshan. For three ages, the Alonian kings and queens had come from these clans. They built their palaces on Tria’s seven hills, to which they had given their names. They also kept great estates on the lands surrounding the city. Many times the nobles had fought among themselves for the throne. They established dynasties, such as the renowned Marshanid dynasty, only to be overthrown and wait a hundred or five hundred more years to see their clan rise to preeminence again. Warriors their patriarchs had been, and warriors they remained. They wore well-used armor, and were fairer of hair and eyes than most of the Alonians I had seen in the streets.
Most recently, they and their fathers had made war upon the second group of nobles to stand before the King. These were the lords of Alonia’s various domains. The greatest of them, Kane told me, were Baron Narcavage of Arngin and Baron Monteer of Iviendenhall. Two generations earlier, when Alonia had been reduced in power and size, the barons and dukes had ruled their possessions as independent lords. But King Sakandar the Fair, King Kiritan’s grandfather, had begun the reconquest of Alonia’s ancient realm. Before he died, he had forced the Duke of Raanan and the Count of Iviunn to do him homage and kneel to him. His son, King Hanikul, had continued the wars that he began. Only upon the ascension of his son, King Kiritan, however, had the reconquest been completed. King Kiritan had spent almost his entire reign riding at the head of his knights into one rebellious domain or another. Just two years before, the last of the lords had knelt before him and called him sire. And so Alonia had been restored to her ancient borders: from the Dolphin Channel in the north to the Long Wall in the south; and from the Blue Mountains in the west six hundred miles east all the way to the Alonian Sea. Many there were who had begun calling him King Kiritan the Great. It was said that although he hadn’t sought this honorific for himself, neither did he discourage it.
It was also said – I heard these whispers and grumblings from various knights around me – that the King had more than one reason for calling the Quest. No one doubted that he loved Ea and wished to see her restored to her ancient splendor. No one doubted that he opposed Morjin with all his will and might. But neither did anyone doubt his need to check the power of his barons. And so he had called them to make vows: those who accepted his medallion would have to go forth upon the quest and leave their domains and intrigues behind them. Those who refused would shame themselves and mar their honor, thus diminishing their ability to mount any opposition to the King. As for King Kiritan himself, he would make his quest by seeking the Lightstone solely within Alonia’s various domains. He would ride at the head of his knights into Tarlan or Aquantir as he always had, and so keep watch upon his realm. A cunning man was King Kiritan Ars Narmada, and a deep one, too.
After a long time, the last of the knights and nobles stepped away from the throne with their medallions shining brightly for all to see. Then it came time for my friends and me to stand before the King. As a great feast had been promised following this ceremony, everyone was now waiting for us to receive the King’s blessing. Everyone grew quiet and watched as we approached the throne. Master Juwain was the first of us to throw back his cloak and call out his name: ‘Master Juwain Zadoran,’ he said. ‘Greetings, King Kiritan.’
‘Master Juwain Zadoran of what realm?’ the King asked him as he studied his plain woolens doubtfully.
‘Formerly of the Elyssu,’ Master Juwain said. ‘But for many years of that landless realm known as the Brotherhood.’
‘Well, this is a surprise,’ the King said with a smile. He turned to look at Queen Daryana and at Count Dario who stood nearby. ‘A master of the Brotherhood will dare to undertake the Quest! We are honored.’
‘The honor is mine, King Kiritan.’
‘Well, it is growing late, and we still have many hungry bellies to feed,’ the King said. He nodded at Queen Daryana, who reached into the fifth golden chest and removed a medallion. The King draped this over Master Juwain’s bald head and told him: ‘Master Juwain Zadoran, accept this with our blessing that you might be known and honored in all lands.’
Master Juwain bowed to the King and backed away as Maram now stepped up to him. With a great flourish, he loosened his cloak to reveal the red tunic and sword beneath. Then he called out: ‘Prince Maram Marshayk of Delu.’
This announcement caused a great stir among the nobles in the room. At least forty knights present were from Delu’s various dukedoms or baronies, and they looked at Maram with the shock of recognition brightening their faces.
‘Now, this is an even greater surprise,’ the King said. ‘We were hoping that King Maralah might send one of his own to honor us this day. How is it that his son happens to be traveling with a master of the Brotherhood?’
‘That is a long story,’ Maram said as he boldly stared at Queen Daryana. Although almost forty years old, she was still acclaimed for her beauty. ‘Ah, perhaps I could tell it to you and your lovely queen later over a goblet of your finest wine.’
‘Perhaps you could,’ King Kiritan said, forcing a thin smile. ‘We would like to hear it.’
And with that, he bestowed upon Maram his much-desired medallion and blessing.
Next Kane approached the King. With great reluctance, he uncloaked himself. And then, in a savage and almost disrespectful voice, he gave his name.
‘Just “Kane”?’ the King asked him as he gazed at him disapprovingly.
‘So, just Kane,’ Kane growled out. ‘Kane of Erathe.’
The King seemed as curious to learn of his homeland as I was, a
nd he asked, ‘Erathe? We have never heard of that realm. Where does it lie?’
‘Far away,’ Kane said. ‘It is very far away.’
‘In what direction?’
But in answer, Kane only stared at him as his black eyes grew bright with the starlight pouring down through the dome.
‘Who is your king, then?’ King Kiritan asked him. ‘Tell us the name of your lord.’
‘No man is my lord,’ Kane said. ‘Nor do I call any man king.’
The King bit his lip in distaste and then said, ‘You’re not the first lordless knight to make vows tonight. But you have made vows, it seems. And so we will give you our blessing.’
As quickly as he could, the King took the medallion from Queen Daryana and dropped it over Kane’s head. He looked away as Kane pressed his finger to the cup at the center of the medallion and stepped over to me.
‘It’s your turn,’ he snarled out. ‘Let’s get this over and be done.’
It was my turn, and some three thousand knights, nobles and ladies were waiting for me to take it. But I sensed in Atara a great unease at so many people watching her. It would be hard to be the last to receive the King’s blessing, I thought. And so I leaned my head back and asked if she wanted take my place.
‘No, you go first,’ she insisted. ‘Please.’
‘All right,’ I said. Then I stepped up to King Kiritan, pulled back my cloak and told him my name: ‘Sar Valashu Elahad of Mesh.’
For a moment, King Kiritan’s face looked as if it had been slapped in front of the three thousand nobles quietly watching us. Then he recovered his composure; he nodded toward Count Dario as he said, ‘We had heard that the son of King Shamesh would make this Quest. But it is a great distance between Silvassu and Tria. We had supposed you had lost your way in coming here.’
The Lightstone: The Ninth Kingdom Page 41
