Lord of Lies

by David Zindell

  For a while Master Juwain, with Maram and Asaru, speculated as to how Morjin had made a ghul of Sivar. Did Morjin have spies in Mesh who had somehow marked out Sivar as weak in the will? Had Sivar delved into the dark mysteries of the mind only to find the Red Dragon waiting for him in the deepest and most desolate of caverns? Nobody knew. After a while, Yarashan gave up trying to fathom the unfathomable and said to me, 'At least the ghul has been exposed and killed - we can be thankful for that.'

  But Maram, who understood me better than almost anyone, looked at me and said, 'Ah, Val, the prophecy, too bad.'

  'The prophecy? Which prophecy?' Yarashan asked. Although he was an intelligent man, he was not a particularly sensitive one. 'The scryer said that a ghul would undo Val's dreams. Well, she was wrong. Val fought him off, like a true Elahad, and so the ghul was made to undo himself.'

  'No, Yarashan,' I said. The night's events had nearly ripped out my insides. 'I. . . was so certain of Sivar. Of all the Guardians. Their hearts, their beings: so bright. This was the dream. But how can I be certain of anything ever again?'

  How could I, I wondered, ever claim the mantle of the Maitreya if I couldn't be certain even of myself?

  Yarashan, of course, had no answers for me. And neither did Maram or Asaru, or even Master Juwain. We stayed up talking for the rest of the night. At last, with the sun rising like a ball of fire over the green hills to the east, it came time to break camp. A burial remained to be made. Tournament competitions must be faced, and if possible, won. And above all, Morjin, the Crucifier, the Lord of Lies, must be opposed at all moments with all the force and purity of our hearts - or else we might end up as had Sivar of Godhra, a man without a soul who was doomed to wander lost among the stars until the end of time.

  Chapter 10

  Nar was the largest city in the Nine Kingdoms; it spread out across the rolling, green country to the west and north of the Iron Hills, where its founders had delved for ore and built forges to make steel. To this day plumes of smoke rise over the shops of the Smithy District along the hills; there could be found the Street of Shields and the famous Street of Swords that was the ancient heart of Nar. We made our way east toward this oldest part of the city for the King's Road took us straight toward a juncture there with two other highways: the Adra Straight, which led north out of the city across Taron's tree-covered plains, and the great Nar Road running from Tria all the way into Delu and bisecting Nar from the northwest to the southeast. It was said that once a wall had surrounded the city, but we saw no sign of it. The Narangians boasted that their swords were their walls. No enemy had beleaguered Nar since Athar had conquered much of Taron in the ninth century of the Age of Swords.

  Word that the Lightstone was being brought into the city must have preceded us, for the people of Nar lined the road from the very outskirts to the west and on into the Valari District, where many knights and lords had fine stone houses. That morning, I had given the Lightstone to Tavar Amadan; as we rode along, he held high the shining cup for all to see. Great lords such as Siravay Jurshan stood in front of the shops with carpenters and bakers and other tradesmen, all of whom wore on their fingers the diamond rings of knights or simple warnors. And all of them - and many women and children, too - cheered as we passed by. And that was a rare and beautiful thing in this kingdom, for the thousands of Taroners to shower their accolades upon an armed company of Ishkans and Meshians riding into their midst.

  After a while, we passed the old Tournament Grounds, which long ago had been abandoned and given over as a greenway. The road took us between the Knight's District to the north and the King's Palace, all the way to the great square in the heart of Nar. There, beneath the steep hills on which perched an ancient castle, the white Tower of the Sun rose up toward the sky. Although it was not nearly so great as the towers in Tria or Delarid - or even in Khevaju, Nazca, Ar and other cities of other lands - people came from across the Nine Kingdoms to view this shining wonder, for the Valari have never been great builders and nothing like it could be seen in all the Morning Mountains. There, too, at the edge of the square, we came to the intersection of the Nar Road and the Adra Straight, a finely made road that led past the smithies close to the hills along a district full of fine eateries and inns. Smells of roasting chicken and hot bread mingled with coal smoke and steaming dung which the many horses clopping down this thoroughfare left behind them. The Narangians crowding the street on either side seemed not to notice or mind this effluvia that tainted their air, as in any large city. They loosed their cheers upon us from mouths wide open at the marvel of the Lightstone. But the Ishkans riding ahead of us and many of Mesh pulled their scarves up over their noses; thus did they try to protect themselves from the dust of old, dried dung that the horses' hooves pounded into powder and kicked up into choking brown clouds.

  At last we came to the Tournament Grounds, laid out between the Adra Strait and the Nar Road along a great greenway at the northern outskirts of the city. The site where the competitions were held every three years was itself large enough to contain almost a whole city. A paved road ran down its center for almost two miles from east to west. It gave access to the Chess and Sword Pavilions, and then to the acres of fields where knights rode at each other with flashing maces and long lances. At the far end of the Grounds, along the Nar Road, could be found the areas given over to lance throwing and archery. Smaller roads, of dirt, connected the various encampments set up around the competition spaces, along the Grounds' northern and southern edges. Witnesses from Taron and all across the Nine Kingdoms had taken up residence there with the knights and warriors who would display their feats of arms for all to acclaim.

  First and largest of these encampments, on the southern edge, was that of the Taroners. Many of these had been unable or unwilling to find lodgings in Nar's crowded inns; therefore they had set up their tents or laid out their sleeping furs in neat rows near the bnghtly-colored pavilions of Taron's greatest knights and lords. King Waray himself occupied the greatest of these pavilions, a magnificent dome of red and white silk flapping in the morning breeze. By tradition, whenever a tournament was being held, he left his palace to dwell among the pilgrims who honored his city. He was said to be a great mediator of disputes who loved clasping hands and learning the names of knights from each kingdom. Many called him a peacemaker. But my father, who had journeyed here for more than one tournament called him a cunning and difficult man who liked to play others as a knight does chess pieces, in order to achieve the kind of sly and blood-less victories that strengthened his kingdom without ever quite threatening real war.

  The Meshian encampment, for thousands of years, had been laid out on the Grounds' northern edge between the encampments of the Lagashuns and the Ishkans. Many of my countrymen had arrived before us. We Guardians, strengthened by the twenty Ishkan knights, set up our pavilions near those of Sar Sulaijay and Lord Junaru and others who would be competing here on the morrow. To the blue and white of Lord Junaru's pavilion was added the black and silver of mine, and the reds, golds and other colors of my Ishkan knights, and if any of Mesh objected to this unprecedented mingling, no one voiced his concern. Neither did it alarm anyone when we surrounded our company with a moat and stockade. Word of Sivar's treachery spread quickly, and all Meshians, whether Guardians or not, seemed ready to fight for the Lightstone if any enemy should attack us. Of course, all along the Tournament Grounds flew the sacred white banners of truce. Anyone who broke this ancient covenant would be punished by dishonor and death. But here, on these much-trampled fields where the Valari had contended with each other for thousands of years, it was not impossible to imagine some lone knight or his kindred falling mad and fighting a real battle and spilling red blood to gain the greatest prize in all the world.

  I spent most of the day settling into our camp and preparing for the next day's lance-throwing competition. With our bright pavilions arrayed only a hundred yards from the greenway along the Grounds northern edge, we had relief in at least o
ne direction from the bustle of the tournament. Tall oak trees rose up like a wall before us; birds piped out their songs, and the perfume of flowers wafted over us on a gentle wind. But in other directions there were other sights, smells and sounds. Between the encampments, food-sellers had set up stalls next to those of brewmasters, cloth merchants, astrologers, armorers and many others. Nearby, jugglers cast brightly-painted balls into the air while wandering minstrels made music around their campfires. It was good to hear their singing and the voices of the Valari that joined them; it was good, too, to smell the loaves of hot bread that the bakers took out of their ovens and the sizzling sweetmeats that old women prepared on their little charcoal grills. Down the road running alone the encampments of the Lagashuns, Meshians, Ishkans and Kaashans paraded a continual stream of knights displaying their colors and their horsemanship. Many pilgrims passed by us, too. From their inquisi-tive glances, it seemed that they hoped for a glimpse of the Lightstone - or of me. While riding through Nar's streets and across the Tournament grounds, more than one person had looked at me as if to wonder if I might truly be the Maitreya. I tried to ignore these throngs who ligered in front of our camp. The urgent beating of their hearts was almost a greater sound than the pounding of hundreds of horses' hooves and the booming of the great war drums that reminded every knight that the tournament, above all else, was meant to demonstrate the Valari's readiness for battle.

  Around midafternoon, a visitor called on me, and him I could not ignore. For it was King Danashu of Anjo, who strode into our encampment accompanied by only two knights. King Danashu was a large man with great shoulders and long arms swollen with muscle. In his youth, no knight had been able to cast his lance farther than he. His finely-made face, too, was swollen - but from the effects of strong drink and participating too exuberantly at too many feasts. His blue tunic, emblazoned with a gold dragon, barely concealed a large belly that bulged out beneath his massive chest. Of all the kings of the Valari, he was said to be the strongest, in his body. But as ruler of his realm, he had less power than some of his dukes and barons who had torn his once-proud kingdom apart.

  I invited him into my tent, where we sat and took tea with my brothers. King Danashu paid his compliments to our father and discussed the art of lance throwing with Yarashan. He spoke of the clear, blue skies above us and the fine weather he hoped would grace the tournament. And then he turned toward the point of his visit.

  'It's said that you rode into Taron with King Hadaru.' King Danashu looked from Asaru to Yarashan, and then at me. 'Meshians and Ishkans together - this is not news that we of Anjo can be expected to celebrate.'

  Asaru studied King Danashu for weakness, as my father had taught us, and I did, too. And finally, I said, 'It's time that all Valari rode together so that the Red Dragon doesn't fall against us one by one. If Mesh can make peace with Ishka, then so it can be with any of the Nine Kingdoms. And that is something that all Valari can celebrate.'

  'Perhaps,' King Danashu said. 'And yet, I haven't heard King Hadaru speak of peace.'

  I opened my mouth to proclaim that King Hadaru possessed little - recognized virtues, but just then Asaru cast me a quick, stern look. Although it was my prerogative to order all matters pertaining to the Guardians and the Lightstone, it was his, as our father's eldest son, to speak for Mesh.

  'King Hadaru may not desire peace with Anjo,' Asaru said. 'But he desires war with Mesh even less.'

  At this, King Danashu slowly nodded his head and wheezed out, 'Then this matter of your brother recovering the Lightstone has not changed your father's pledge?'

  'A pledge is a pledge,' Asaru told him coldly. 'If Ishka invades Anjo, Mesh will march against Ishka.'

  'But what if King Hadaru continues suborning my barons and dukes? He's nearly won Duke Barwan's allegiance and made Adarland part of Ishka. Forcing the duke to give up his young daughter to marry an old king - that was an ignoble deed.'

  Asaru and I traded knowing looks. For King Danashu to speak of Anjo's nobles as 'his' was something like a hound claiming dominion over wolves. Duke Rezu of Rajak and Duke Gorador ruled their tiny realms without thought of King Danashu, while farther east, Baron Yushur had made war against Count Artanu of Onkar in an attempt to add to his possession and strengthen it in case King Hadaru conquered Adar outright and moved against Anjo's other baronies and duchies.

  'My father,' Asaru told King Danashu, 'has no say over whom King Hadaru may marry. Nor over the affairs of your realm.'

  This was Asaru's way of chiding King Danashu. But there was no scorn in his voice and little pride - only a heartfelt desire that King Danashu should somehow reunite his broken kingdom and rule it as more than a king in name only.

  'No, no one has say over Anjo,' King Danashu said, 'except Anjo's king. We've had our time of troubles, but this must soon end.'

  'We've heard that there were plots against you.'

  'Against a king, there are always plots. But the assassins were caught and killed. The barons who set them upon me will be punished, I can promise you that.'.

  'Very well,' Asaru said.

  'Anjo will be strong again,' King Danashu boasted. 'As it was in the old days.'

  'We all pray that this will be so.'

  'Yes, with the aid of friends such as Mesh, we'll be strong,' he muttered. Something in the way he said the word 'friend,' with both resentment and hope, caused me to sit up straighter on my tent's rug and pay closer attention. 'And then all will be repaid.'

  'We of Mesh desire no repayment of any debts you may think you owe us,' Asaru told him. 'Only, as you say, your friendship.'

  'But what if the Red Dragon were to attack Mesh?'

  I felt Asaru's pulse quicken along with my own. Although King Danashu couldn't have known of the threats that Morjin had made in his letter, he must have feared such an obvious move and the reper-cussions it would have on Anjo.

  'The Red Dragon won't move against Mesh,' I assured him. 'Soon there will be a conclave in Tria. And we'll make an alliance against him.'

  'You speak with such certainty,' King Danashu said as he looked at me. 'Do you really believe you can unite the sovereigns. of the Free Kingdoms to your purpose?'

  'We must unite,' I told him.

  'Yes, well, the Maitreya would say such a thing. And perhaps the Maitreya, if the Maitreya is more than just a myth, could accomplish this miracle. But what would an alliance against Morjin be worth without the swords of the Valari kings?'

  'Very little,' I admitted. 'Which is why our kings or their emissaries must journey to Tria.'

  'Impossible, impossible. I'm afraid that not even the Maitreya could accomplish that. Why, I was speaking just this morning about this impossibility with King Waray.'

  Something about the way he said King Waray's name made me look at King Danashu more closely. He was breathing quickly, which caused his big belly to rise and fall beneath his blue tunic, I could almost feel the beads of sweat running down his side there, too.

  'Does King Waray, then.' I asked 'share your discouragement?'

  'All the Valari kings do. Lord Valashu. None of us wants to answer King Kiritan's summons to Tria.'

  'Pride,' I said. 'The pride of kings.'

  King Danashu pulled back his massive shoulders as he sat up straight. He regarded me with a flaring anger as he said, 'Don't think to judge a king until you've sat upon his throne. When I was your age, I too, thought being a king, a Valari king, would be a simple matter of following simple principles. Always to be honest. so honor the Law of the One, to wield a sword an angel and die in battle - to be willing to die for kinsmen and kingdom, this seems such a simple thing. But

  life is not so simple is it? There are always complication and difficulties, so many, impossible to see. There are always those who would undo a king and destroy his honor, and so a king must stand strong at all times. You may call this pride, if you will. But do not blame the Valari kings if they do not wish to abandon their realms to pursue impossible dreams in Tria.'
r />   I sat looking at King Danashu for a few moments and then called for Sar Shuradan to enter my tent. At my command, this grizzled knight drew forth the Lightstone and placed it in King Danashu's hands.

  'A year ago,' I said, 'King Kiritan called a quest to recover this cup. And the Valari kings, even yourself, refused to send their sons and knights to Tria. They said that finding it would be impossible.'

  King Danashu's once-fine features face took up the light of the golden cup so that the beauty of his youth stood out from his tired face. His dark eyes flared with its radiance as he stared at the Lightstone. 'What you say is true, Lord Valashu. But there were so many uncertainties, it seemed foolish to waste men on such a quest.'

  I smiled at him and said, 'Truly, many thought me a fool for setting out toward Tria. But what is considered foolish before an event occurs is often deemed otherwise afterwards. And so with the reverse. What will Ea think of the Valari if we allow Morjin to triumph, all because common wisdom deems an alliance against him to be impossible?'

  'Some would say,' King Danashu told me, 'that Morjin could never triumph so long as we possess the Lightstone.'

  King Danashu eyes were now blazing with a golden fire. And I said, 'It is one thing to gain such a prize, but another to keep it. Morjin has already set a ghul to try to steal the Lightstone, and nearly succeeded.'

  'But he must not succeed, not a second time.'

  'Will you help us, then?'

  'What is it you would ask of me, Lord Valashu?'

  'Only that you speak in favor of journeying to Tria.'

  King Danashu stared at the cup in his hands and sighed out, 'That is indeed a great deal to ask. Do you wish that I should do this for Mesh or for you, Lord Valashu?'

  'Do it for yourself,' I said. 'If Mesh should have to stand alone against Morjin, who will stand with Anjo against Ishka?'