Varzil blinked, startled by Eduin’s vehemence. “We have never had an easy comradeship, you and I, if that is what you mean. That is not the issue here. I am neither your prosecutor nor your judge. Your actions alone indict you.”
“Eduin, you brought together a circle although you have not been trained as a Keeper, and against my direct wishes,” Loryn said. “Matrix work is difficult and dangerous enough, even with the best training. You risked not only your own life and mind, but those of the men who trusted you. This—” he sighed deeply, as if the very act of speech pained him, “—cannot be allowed. Not only that, you escalated the conflict with Rakhal Hastur’s men. You—”
“I ended the conflict! I did what no one else in this Tower had the cojones to do.” Eduin gestured toward the gates and the fields beyond them. “Who is left to attack us now?”
“That is not the point,” Loryn said. “If you will not listen to reason, I have no choice but to confine you under guard until your fate can be decided.”
Eduin scrambled to his feet and pointed at Varzil. “This is all his doing!”
Varzil, stung, rose also. It seemed only right that he should face Eduin’s accusations on his feet.
“Can’t you see?” Eduin screamed. “He’s using the incident to promote a personal vendetta against me! Ever since we were students at Arilinn, he’s disliked me. He’s used every opportunity to besmirch my character, to turn others against me. Carolin Hastur was my friend until Varzil poisoned his mind. Even his own sister was taken in by his self-serving manipulations! You have a scorpion-ant in your midst, Loryn! Take care you do not nurse him at your bosom, or you will discover to your sorrow how treacherous he can be!”
The door flung open and two of the senior workers rushed in. One carried a telepathic damper, the other an open vial. Varzil caught a whiff and recognized one of the many distillations of kireseth. Some worked by lowering laran barriers, but others, like this one, temporarily blocked all psychic abilities. Its use was rare but not unknown, for laran was no guarantee of self-control. Sometimes, an adolescent in the throes of threshold sickness became so disoriented as to pose a danger to himself and all around him.
Eduin recognized the drug, too, for he drew back. “You will have no need for such with me. I am not your enemy.”
“Will you give your solemn word that you will make no effort to escape or harm anyone in this Tower?” Loryn said.
Edam’s shoulders lifted minutely. “As long as Hestral stands and the Hastur menaces us, I will abide by your rule. Will that satisfy you?”
“I think it must,” Loryn replied. He signaled to the others to escort Eduin back to his own quarters.
Varzil thought that Eduin had chosen his words too carefully, but could discover no fault in what he had said.
“I do not know what has distressed me most,” Loryn said, “these days of attack and siege, or Eduin’s misguided heroism, or his excuses. I am tired, Varzil, tired of this interminable tension between hope for the future and despair that no matter what we do, things only get worse.”
Varzil sought for words, but none came. Loryn had aged visibly since he had arrived at Hestral, and he did not think the present warfare was entirely responsible.
A Keeper carries a heavy burden, he thought. Not only for the work we do, but for what we are. He wondered if it were too great for any one person to bear. But what choice has Loryn? What choice have I? We neither of us can undo what we have become.
The thought came to him, with a little shiver of premonition, that the same was true for Eduin.
44
One long day stretched into another without any further attack from the Hastur camp. The rain stopped and the mud dried. After a single sunny day, however, the sky turned gray and sullen, brooding. All of Hestral Tower rested, at first gratefully, then with increasing anxiety. Any attempt to leave the Tower walls was promptly turned back by the remaining soldiers. Food supplies dipped even lower, although there was water enough from their own deep wells.
“I don’t understand why they don’t just go home,” Oranna said fretfully. Varzil had joined her at the commons hall window, watching the sunset with mugs of steaming plain water. She disliked plain water even more than brewed roasted blackroot. “We won’t give in to them, and if they weren’t strong enough to overpower us before, they certainly aren’t now. Sooner or later, we’ll break out. I don’t understand what Loryn is waiting for.”
Varzil held his peace. He had been on watch all afternoon and was too tired to argue. He and Loryn had been in contact with the other Towers, searching for a way out of the impasse.
“It is not yet over,” he said. “The Hasturs are waiting for something, or they would have left already.”
“Reinforcements from Thendara? Would they be so foolish?”
Varzil was certain of it. “Next time, they will take no chances, but will send an overwhelming force. There are many who would see a successful resistance as a sign, a call to action. At the same time, Rakhal dares not put himself into a public position of incompetence, which will surely happen if he makes a show of force here and then fails.”
She looked thoughtful. “Then why press the issue at all? Why not accept our first answer, that we had no clingfire to surrender? Whatever was the King thinking of?”
“Ah, who can tell? It was many years ago when I met him, and even then he was so involved in court politics, it was difficult to tell what sort of person he was. Once, Carolin loved and trusted him, and showered him with favors. Yet people change, or perhaps life itself changes them, and sometimes they hide their true nature.”
“Perhaps somewhere there is still the man who was worthy of Carolin’s goodwill,” Oranna said with a brief, bright smile.
Varzil found himself smiling back at her. “You have such faith in people, carya. It is part of what makes you a good monitor. I fear that in this case, it is misplaced. Let us hope that even men such as Rakhal may come to see reason.”
He broke off. That had indeed been Loryn’s hope, that by refusing to retaliate or further provoke their besiegers, Hestral might calm the situation until a peaceful settlement might be found, some kind of compromise.
Varzil went to sit in one of the big comfortable chairs beside the now-bare fireplace. His body, tense and aching with fatigue, sank into the cushions. He let his head rest against the chair’s high back. As he closed his eyes, his thoughts wandered to that time, so many years ago, when he had entered the cave of the catmen with no idea of how he might succeed, only the determination to do whatever was necessary to free his brother.
If I, a mere boy, could reach the catmen, who were not even human, then surely it must be possible to find some way out of this deadlock ... some way besides Eduin’s.
Varzil drifted toward sleep. Once more, he wandered through caves dim in the light of hand-held torches. Passages opened before him. He pushed on, searching for something. The tunnels grew darker as he outstripped the fragile orange glow. Ahead, he saw light like a pale shadow. It grew stronger, colorless and cool, as he rushed toward it. He recognized it as the Overworld, and he knew that something—or someone—drew him there.
The darkness of the cavern dropped away. Between one hurried step and the next, he burst into the gray landscape of the Overworld that lay above and beyond any physical dimension.
A woman stood before him, arms outstretched, gauzy gown blown in an unfelt wind. A clear white radiance, like the light in the heart of the ring stone, shone from her body. Her hair framed her face in an aureole of red curls. His heart leaped as he recognized her—
Felicia!
A smile brightened her features and she moved toward him. He saw that her mouth moved, shaping his name, although no sound reached him.
Varzil ... Varzil ...
The voice was not Felicia‘s, but another’s, and it did not come from ahead of him, where Felicia beckoned, but from behind, from the twisted cavern passages. He hesitated, knowing he must answer that summons, yet
unwilling to turn away. To see her, whole and beautiful, before him, to take her into his arms, even insubstantial Overworld arms—
VARZIL!
The next instant, he was back in his chair in Hestral’s commons, and someone was shaking his shoulders, shouting his name. He started awake. His eyes focused on the face bent over him—Marius Rockraven. The boy’s cheeks were pale and his eyes looked bruised. Behind him, Varzil spotted Oranna and Serena.
“Varzil!” Marius cried again. “Please wake up! We need you!”
Varzil swept the dregs of fatigue and sleep from his mind. He sat up. “What has happened?”
“I was at the relays—and word came from Hali—for Loryn. They said—it couldn’t wait. But Loryn—I knocked, called him—he didn’t answer—I didn’t want to wake him if he was that tired.” Marius gulped. “Should I try again? What do I tell Hali?”
“It’s all right,” Varzil said, getting to his feet. The brief sleep had been unexpectedly deep and the worst of the ache had faded from his muscles. “Oranna, go check on Loryn.”
“On my way,” she said, and whirled to go.
“I’ll talk to Hali.” Varzil started toward the stairs leading to the relay chamber. Marius hurried after him.
Varzil settled himself on the bench and found it still warm. The relay lattice hummed with light. Marius had adjusted it to his own comfort and Varzil found the tuning hard-edged. He unfocused his eyes, letting his thoughts sink into the pattern, and shifted it. Even as he did so, he felt the mind on the other end of the invisible linkage.
Loryn of Hestral? The mental voice held no warmth, yet sounded vaguely familiar. Varzil wondered if it might not be one of the leronyn he had met during one of his visits to Hali Tower, perhaps even one who had helped him after his adventure in the cloud-filled lake.
No, he cannot come at the moment, Varzil answered. I am Varzil Ridenow, Keeper. I will accept whatever messages you have for us. How fares our sister Tower at Hali?
Varzil? Varzil of Arilinn?
Suddenly, the contact flickered. Varzil frowned, puzzled. The relay linkage remained intact, yet he had lost all sense of another presence.
Varzil! He recognized his sister, Dyannis. Her mental voice was stronger than the last time they’d spoken when he was still at Arilinn. Her present agitation rang through the contact.
Varzil! By all the gods, what are you doing at Hestral Tower?
He smiled, although she could not see it. Little sister, it is good to touch your mind as well. I have been here the better part of a year. It’s a long story, and not altogether a happy one. How could he tell her of his suspicions of Eduin—or of her lover’s rash actions? Chill whispered along his nerves, for Hali Tower was bound to Hastur.
Never mind! She was almost shouting now. Varzil, get out of there! Get out now!
Dyannis, we are under siege by Rakhal Hastur’s army.
I don’t care! Find some way—don’t wait—
Dyannis broke off and the first mental voice returned. Varzil of Arilinn, you have no part in this quarrel. Sadly, we cannot count you or anyone else within your walls as neutral. As a result of the unprovoked and unlawful attack upon his soldaers, King Rakhal Hastur has declared Hestral Tower renegade. If you do not surrender immediately, you will be destroyed.
The words had the ring of a speech memorized and reluctantly delivered, yet Varzil could detect no hesitation. However the laranzu who had spoken them might feel about those commands, he would indeed carry them out.
I will deliver your message, Varzil said. But I cannot tell how soon you may have your answer. Our monitor is attending to Loryn of Hestral even as we speak.
We have no discretion to wait. Our orders are direct and specific. Varzil, if it is within your power to make him see reason, I urge you to do so for—for the sake of all those within your walls. Or if he cannot answer, then you must do it for him. If there is any chance—I will do what I may to buy you a small measure of time.
It was both warning and concession, and Varzil knew it. I thank you for whatever you can do.
Varzil let the contact drain away. Slowly he got to his feet. Marius, at his side, looked to him, eyes brimming with emotion. Clearly, the boy had been able to follow enough scattered thoughts to catch the essence of the message.
“Loryn will never surrender,” Marius said.
“No, I think not,” Varzil replied, striding toward the stairs. “I very much doubt if he would be able to enforce it if he did. But we must accord him the courtesy of his own decision.”
Even as he reached the archway to the topmost stair, Varzil felt a massive shuddering of psychic energy through the Tower. The earth heaved and bucked like a rebellious mount. He grabbed the archway to keep his balance. Someone below screamed.
Another impact jarred the Tower, or perhaps it was an after-shock from the first one. Varzil knew of a certainty that Hestral was now under attack, and not by a minor aggregation of leronyn, such as traveled with the army. The energy could only be generated by a full circle within the protection of a Tower, their powers focused and amplified through a matrix screen.
Varzil had not gone more than a few steps down, with Marius at his heels, when another wave hit, followed an instant later with a deafening crack!
Loryn! Varzil reached out mentally.
HESTRAL IS UNDER ATTACK! The Keeper’s silent command filled his mind. EVERYONE WHO CAN, JOIN WITH ME! WE MUST FORM A CIRCLE!
Who is behind the attack? Serena cried silently.
Hali Tower! Varzil answered, pitching his mental voice to carry thoughout the Tower. At Rakhal’s command. They tried to warn us—
A horrendous rumble issued from the northern comer of the Tower, the dormitory wing. Varzil, his laran senses stretched wide, felt stones shift and slide, walls buckle, wooden beams splinter. The entire section shuddered like a hamstrung beast.
Varzil rushed down the last few steps to meet Loryn and a handful of senior workers, responding to Loryn’s silent summons.
“There’s no time to reach a laboratory!” Varzil cried.
He jerked open the door of the nearest room. It was the old infirmary, where Felicia had first been taken. It took only a few minutes to pull benches and pillows into a rough circle.
As each one quieted his mind and breathing, settling into rapport, Varzil assessed their condition. They were all worn thin by unrelenting vigilance. Loryn himself was near exhaustion, his focus patchy. He’d been deep in healing trance when Marius tried to wake him, and its residue clung to him like a clouded film.
Loryn, let me serve as Keeper, Varzil said. I am stronger for this task.
Loryn’s refusal was swift. The fault and hence the responsibility for our situation are mine alone. If I had not been weak, Eduin would have not acted rashly. I must deal with the consequences.
Yet all of us will suffer if we cannot defend ourselves. Should we not then each contribute as we are best able?
I am Keeper of Hestral Tower. This burden is mine!
Rather than provoke further dissension, Varzil settled into the circle. He allowed Loryn to integrate his psychic energy into the flowing whole. As he fed power into the circle, his concentration deepened. There were only five of them, a small circle working with only their personal starstones. At the back of his awareness, he sensed another presence, a warmth, an invisible radiance.
I am with you ... sang a precious, familiar voice.
Once more, Varzil found himself looking into a clear lens through which he could see energy as well as physical objects. Hestral had been built centuries ago as a military fortress, strong enough to withstand the most determined physical assault. It stood upon solid rock, which would not yield easily. Only a tenday or so earlier, they had used their laran powers to reinforce the physical bonds between the particles of stone and mortar. What the Hastur army leronyn had sought to rend apart, they had preserved, not by any direct opposition of power, but simply by willing stone to remain itself.
As before, V
arzil’s vision penetrated into the substance of wall, roof and floor, wood, stone and mortar. He saw the energy form of Hestral like a second Tower overlapping the real one, shadowy and yet more real. Without these interlaced bonds, the physical Tower would crumble into nothingness.
The attack from Hali came in bursts of invisible fire. Each one touched the outer edges of Hestral’s energy form like a wave crashing against a boulder, seeking a crevice or gap.
Hold ... hold ... hold... pulsed through the Hestral circle like an echo of that earlier defense.
Rock—solid ... mortar—sealed tight ...
As before, the bonds between the particles of stone strengthened. Each succeeding blast of power spattered and flowed harmlessly over the surfaces. It fell away, leaving both the physical and the energy form of Hestral Tower untouched.
Let rock be rock ... each thing according to its nature ...
Elation swept the circle. With each passing moment, the walls maintained their solidity, the stone smooth and dense, heavy with the weight of the earth. This attack was more intense than the previous attempts, but the circle was well able to counter it. Loryn’s strategy was working.
Beneath them, Hestral Tower shuddered again. Varzil followed the course of the energy blasts from the outer walls deep into the earth beneath. In horror, he realized that the first attack from Hali had been a feint, a maneuver to lure their attention away from the real object—not the walls of stone and mortar, but the bedrock upon which Hestral Tower stood. The underlying layers of rock and soil crumbled and gave way.
Varzil saw within his mind what his fleshly eyes could not. In the dormitory wing, the massive beams that supported the upper structures tilted as the foundations fell away at strategic, targeted points. The weight of stone and wood, tipping and sliding, came crashing down on what was left of the substructure. Like slivers of silvery pain, he felt the screams of those who were trapped, ripples of panic in others rushing to their rescue along the shifting, uncertain corridors.
Zandru's Forge Page 45
