'Then guard the Lightstone for the Maitreya. That will be enough.' All right, but who is he, then? How will we ever find him?'
'By three things,' he told me, 'the Maitreya is known: steady abidance in the One; looking upon all with an equal eye. And unshakable courage at all times.'
I smiled sadly and shook my head as I murmured, 'Courage.'
He reached out to grasp my shoulder. 'Don't let yours fail you now'
I smiled again as I tapped my sword's hilt against my chest and said, 'I'm afraid it already has. Something flutters inside here now, and it's not an eagle.'
'Be strong,' he told me as he looked at me.
'Be strong,' I repeated, 'and protect the weak - you should have seen Sajagax's face the first time he heard the whole of the Law,'
'That is not the whole of it,' he said. Although it was falling dark, his eyes began to brighten. "Be strong and protect the weak - and help them to become strong.'
Even as he said this, his hand grew tighter around my shoulder
'Strength, yes,' I said, shaking off his hand. I picked up a pebble and cast it against a nearby tree. It hit the rough bark with a little 'tonic' then bounced off it and plopped into the stream. 'But even the strongest tree will fail to fire.'
Kane's eyes grew hot and pained as he watched me, waiting for me to say more.
'It's my fate,' I finally told him.
'What is your fate?'
'That's just it - I don't know,' I gazed at my sword's silustria, gleaming in the day's last light. 'Alkaladur is named the Sword of Fate The Sword of Sight. That is the power of the silver gelstei yes? Not to enable one to descry events as a scryer does, but to see if one's life is in accord with a higher will,'
'Ananke, this is called,' Kane told me. 'The universal fate to which all must submit - even the Galadin and the Ieldra. Perhaps even the One.'
'Yes,' I said, 'but I looked away from it. This was my will. When I found the Lightstone, I saw my fate, so bright - like the sun rising to touch all the world. Then everyone started calling me the Maitreya, and I believed this. I wanted to believe. But now . . .'
'Go on,' he told me.
'Now I feel my fate as fire. Do you remember the story of the robe of fire?'
He slowly nodded his head as he stared at me. It was said that once a time, in the Lost Ages, a great hero named Arshan had slain a dragon who terrorized the land, rending and destroying in the service of Angra Mainyu. And Angra Mainyu, from far away on Damoom, had caused one of his priests in secret to dip a robe of white lamb's wool into the dragon's blood. The priest then presented the red robe to Arshan to wear as a sign of his great deed. But the moment that Arshan donned this bright garment, it burst into flame. It welded to his skin and burnt down to his bones, driving him mad before he killed himself in agony.
'It's that way for me now,' I said to Kane. 'Everything burns. It's as if I've fashioned my own robe of fire, with the blood of Baltasar, Ravik Kirriland - even Morjin.'
I went on to say that I felt the flames enveloping me, consuming me, and sweeping forth in an irresistible holocaust to burn everything away.
'So,' Kane told me as his black eyes caught up the brightness of my sword, 'there is the fire that torments and kills. But there is also the refining fire, the angel fire that burns the world clean and makes new all things to bring in a new age.'
'A new age,' I said, shaking my head. 'I must know what awaits me tomorrow, or next week. The not knowing is driving me mad.'
'But we can never know our fate,' he told me. 'All we can do is to accept it when it comes.'
'Must we accept all that is hateful and dark then?'
'Listen to me, Valashu, and listen well.' He took my hand in his and squeezed it as if greeting me for the first time. 'Each man has but one fate. You must love yours as you do life itself. You must greet it every morning, and every moment, with all your heart. You must clasp it to you, fiercely, with joy, and never let go. You must keep faith with it and cherish it so completely that you would wish it to come again and again, a million times a million times, through the fires of eternity and all the cycles of creation.'
I pulled my hand away from his and sat looking at it in the waning light. It seemed that there was neither blood nor bones inside, but only a cold, red jelly that quivered with every thought of the future. I said to Kane, 'Yes, perhaps I should do as you say. But who has the strength for that?'
'Strength is given to each of us equal to what we must bear. That is the design of the One.'
I looked with awe upon this fearsome man who had once been crucified to the naked rock of Skartaru, there to endure the torture of Morjin tearing at his insides every day for ten years.
'Perhaps,' I said, wiping away the cold, slick of sweat on my hand 'But surely the One looked away from me when I thought to claim the Lightstone for myself And when I killed Ravik.'
'So, you don't want to be overlooked, do you?' he growled out as he gazed at me. 'Then have faith! When we have faith, we become more visible to the One.'
So saying, he grasped the mandolet that he had slung on his back. He tapped his finger against its polished wood and plucked its strings, tuning it. I was glad that he had taken this lovely instrument after Alphanderry had died.
For a while, as the campfires below us sent plumes of smoke into the air and night darkened the woods, he played an old song that was one of Alphanderry's favorites. It had no words that I knew, but each of the notes that Kane called forth was as clear and full of meaning as an entire poem. There was mourning in the music that he made, and yet great praise and exaltation, too. It rang out with an immense will simply to be. The sweet, sad melody breathed new life into me and raised up my spirits toward the sky's shimmering stars.
Kane's eyes shone like stars themselves. The fierceness of his face gradually fell away from him. His whole being seemed to open like a great, golden flower with infinitely many layers of petals. There was a part of him at its center, a precious jewel, that he kept always to himself. And within this secret heart gathered a song that was all beauty, fire and grace.
I gasped in wonder when Flick suddenly appeared above the stream and took on Alphanderry's form. I saw Kane smiling as this luminous Alphanderry began singing to the music in a voice so beautiful that I could hardly bear it. It seemed that the constellations above us and all the earth were singing along with him, in fire and in joy, giving answer to the essential anguish of life.
And then Kane finished his song, and Alphanderry vanished back into neveness. And Kane murmured, 'My friend, my little friend.'
'What was it he said?' I asked him. 'This language of the angels -I'm still not able to understand it.'
'Nor I,' Kane told me, staring off at the stars.
'What?' I said. 'But you are -'
'I am who I am,' he told me. 'And I have forgotten this language. Or been denied it. In the end, it amounts to the same thing.'
I listened to the tinkling stream as it rushed over the moon-silvered rocks. I said, 'But how? How is this possible?'
He gazed at me as a sad smile played upon his lips. And then he told me, 'It is strange. The One looks out from my eyes, and yours -and so with a squirrel and a butterfly and all things that see. The One feels the earth through my fingers and yours, the rain upon the face of a child, the wind through an oak tree's leaves. All things have just one taste and blaze with a single flame, infinite and inextinguishable, that is their source and true being. And yet, I forget. So, I forget who I really am, and that's the hell of it - I forget, and then all that is lovely and light falls ugly and dark.'
From somewhere in the mountains around us, a wolf called in his immense loneliness to the moon. I thought I heard an eagle cry out, too, but that seemed impossible since eagles do not fly at night.
Kane strapped the mandolet back over his shoulder, then said to me, 'You must take to heart what I'll tell you now: the One moves all things for a purpose, even if we do not see it. And so we must move, ourselves, with th
is purpose, even if it brings our doom.'
I knew that what he had told me was true. And yet I also believed what my grandfather had once told me: that some men are born to make their own fate. Hope blazed inside me then. I looked toward the dark mountains looming on the horizon like great, humped monsters. Would I find Morjin on the other side of them? I vowed that if I did, this time I would close with him in battle and kill him, even if it killed me, too, as Atara had once warned. How else to deal with this Great Beast who had finally overreached himself? How could I turn away from such a fate?
'Thank you for the song,' I said to Kane, bowing my head to him. I lifted Alkaladur up toward the sky and added, 'Thank you for the sword, too.'
He bowed back to me, then smiled his savage smile. He sniffed the air, which was smoky with the smell of roasting meat 'So, then, let s go and eat some of that lamb that Liljana is cooking us and replenish our strength, eh? I'm fairly starved.'
He stood up and held out his hand to pull me up to my feet. We walked back to our camp together. After we had our feast, I retired to my pavilion and lay awake almost all night trying to descry the pattern and purpose of the stars.
The next morning I led my columns of knights through the pass and down into Mesh.
Chapter 31
It was two days later when we finally turned off the North Road and wound our way up the steep hill to my father's castle. I looked upon its stark granite walls with a new eye, for I saw in its towers and battlements not just a cold, enclosing hardness but the strength to protect people and things that were dear to me. Carts full of grain and shepherds driving flocks of baahing sheep impeded our way up to the north gate, for Morjin's army had been sighted approaching Mesh only two days before, and already the castle was laying in extra stores against invasion. On our ride down from Ishka, we had heard talk of little else. The call to arms had gone out to all men of the kingdom able to wield a sword. From the Culhadosh River to the kel keeps in the west, from Ki in the north to Godhra in the south, farmers were setting down their hoes, and blacksmiths their hammers, and strapping on their kalamas instead. The first of these warriors, in their tens and twenties, were arriving in Silvassu from across the Valley of the Swans. The castle could not shelter them all, and so the army gath-ered in the fields along the Kurash River, below the city. Some of the knights called up, however, had business at the castle, and these, too, crowded the road ahead of us. Maram insisted that they should make way for the Lightstone's Guardians, but I counseled patience. During the days to come, I thought, all of Mesh would need the patience of the mountains.
Our entrance to the castle was heralded by the blowing of horns and shouts of gladness. As we drew up in the north ward, packed with creaking carts, squawking chickens and dogs barking and darting about, young squires went running to summon my father and brothers. Three of these - Yarashan, Mandru and Ravar - were gone for the day, but Jonathay and Karshur came hurrying out of the gateway leading to the middle ward. 'Val, you've come home!' Jonathay called out to me. I dismounted and gave Altaru over to one of squires who gathered around our horses. I clasped Jonathan's wiry body to me, and then Karshur's blockier form. Then Asaru came into the ward, too, and strode up me. After embracing me and kissing my forehead, he stood back to regard me with his warm, dark eyes.
'It's good to see you,' he said, smiling at me. 'But you look tired.'
'And you look . . well,' I told him. I laid my hand on him and asked, 'How is your shoulder?'
'Healed but still sore. But it's not so bad that I can't grip a lance. As it seems that every knight in Mesh must soon do. Have you heard the news?'
'There's been little else to hear all the way down the North Road.' I did not tell him of Atara's vision or of Kane's warning me of Morjin's march. Too many people were standing about, and it was not the time to hold council.
Just as I was presenting Atara and my other companions to my brothers, my father walked into the ward. He was tall and grave in his long black tunic, embroidered with the swan and stars of the Elahads. He wore on his thick, black belt the sword that my grandfather had given him. Although he was strong and graceful in all his motions, as always, there was about him a heaviness, as if he wore a suit of mail made of lead. He came up to me and embraced me. And then he said, 'Valashu, welcome. It's good chance that has brought you home at this time - good chance for us, thought perhaps not for you.'
'It wasn't really chance at all, sir,' I told him. 'Perhaps we could speak of this in private, with my friends.'
My father looked at Atara, standing next to me, and at Kane. Then his bright gaze took in the Guardians behind us. I could feel his surprise at seeing so many knights from the other Nine Kingdoms in our company. I was sure as well that he noticed Baltasar's absence and descried the grief written across Lansar Raasharu's face.
'Very well,' he said to me. 'Go and get yourself something to eat. Wash the dust from your face. Then let's meet, in an hour, in the library.'
We did as he had commanded us. I led everyone into the middle ward, and then into the great hall. There we were served a hastily prepared feast of ham and eggs, wheat bread with butter and jellies, quince pies, strawberries, blackberries, peaches and plums. It was good to tuck in so much delicious food. I wondered how much longer such meals would be forthcoming. After we could eat no more, I set the Lightstone back on its stand on the dais beneath the black banner and the portraits of my ancestors. I gave the quartering and command of the Guardians over to Sunjay Naviru. Daj and Estrella were set free to explore the castle. Then I walked with Atara and Liljana down the corridor connecting the great hall to the keep. Kane, Maram and Master Juwain, with Lansar Raasharu, followed behind us.
We made our way past the kitchens and the empty infirmary to the library where my father sometimes held council. My father and Asaru were waiting for us there. So were my mother and grand-mother. The moment that we entered this rectangular room, lined on each of its four walls with shelves of books, my mother came up and kissed me, and then so did my grandmother. Nona, I thought, seemed even older and frailer than, when I had left for the Tournament at Nar. But her whole being was somehow brighter, as if she were gathering into herself stores of hope and courage that might be needed in the days to come. My mother, too, was in brave spirits. In truth, I had never seen her look so radiant and beautiful. In her bearing was an assurance that she, and everyone around her, would find the will needed to face even the darkest of times. But then she was the daugter of a strong king and the queen of an even stronger one.
We all sat around a large table in the center of the room, my father at one end and Asaru at the other. The dark cherrywood, smelling of rosemary and beeswax, was covered with books. Fresh quills and sheets of paper, along with inkpots, had been set out for the writing of letters. One might have expected to see maps of Mesh spread out across the table's gleaming surface, but my father disdained such when it came to planning the movements of armies. Reliance on maps, he claimed, weakened the mind and made less clear the image of terrain that a good commander should always hold inside his head.
'It's good to meet the rest of Valashu's companions,' he said to Atara, Liljana and Kane. 'One of the measures of a man is his friends. And by that ruler, my son stands tall, indeed.'
Coming from another, this might have seemed flattery, but my father never said anything that he didn't mean.
'Now then,' he went on in a strong, clear voice, 'let us hear what has happened, and we will discuss what must be done.'
For a few moments I gazed around the room at the stands of candles casting their soft light on the many books stacked from the floor to the ceiling. I breathed in the smells of old leather and new ink. And then I told of all that had happened since I had parted company with Asaru and Yarashan after the Tournament. My father's eyes widened slightly at the story of the misty island in the middle of the Wendrush and the single-horned asherahs that wandered its magical woods. He smiled as I recounted Maram's feat in drinking down the mighty
Braggod; I sensed his approval - and surprise - of my friendship with Sajagax. But when I turned to telling of the Skakaman who had nearly murdered me, and my murdering of Ravik Kirriland and ruin of the conclave, his face fell grim. At the news of King Kiritan's death, he shook his head and said to Atara, 'It's a terrible thing when one king connives to assassinate another - and leaves nothing of him even to bury. But then Morjin, although he claims the sovereignty of Sakai and much else, is no true king.'
He sat gazing at Atara, and there was kindness and compassion in his eyes. In all his life, I thought, he had never looked upon one of the Sarni so closely, except in battle. And never a Sarni woman. Her golden hair seemed to hold great wonder for him, as It did for my mother. That Atara was blind and yet somehow could still see amazed him even more.
Then my father nodded at Lansar Raasharu. 'All of Mesh will grieve for Baltasar. It seems like only yesterday when he played along the battlements with Ravar and Val. He'll be missed, as would one of my own sons.'
Pain welled in Lansar's eyes as he clamped his jaws shut. Then he grabbed at his sword and said, 'Thank you, my lord. There's no help for grief, but there is the cold solace of revenge. It may be the worst of things for Mesh that Morjin has marched upon us, but it is not bad tidings for me.'
My father sat regarding him calmly, but with great perceptivity, as if he could look into his heart and soul - even as he often looked at me. I felt the weight of my father's concern for him as he said, 'Peace, Lansar. Peace to you, and to Mesh if we can find the way to it.'
Now he turned to me and said, 'Even before your last journey, you'd had adventures enough for three lifetimes. And now. A first in the sword and a second in the long lance. Champion. Victor of two battles. Vanquisher of this evil thing called a Skakaman.'
'And slayer of an innocent man!' I cried out. 'I brought ruin upon the conclave - and perhaps upon Mesh!'
'You judge yourself more harshly than Count Dario did - or any man should,' my father told me. 'Ruin, you say, you brought to the conclave. But it was you who brought the Valari kings there in the first place, to sit at one table together, and this is a great thing.'
Lord of Lies Page 58
