As Yarkash the Bold turned about to exit my tent, another warrior stepped forward. He came up to me and said, 'Sire, I am Kanshar Sharad, son of Evar Sharad, of Pushku .. .'
And so it went. I could spend only a fraction of a minute with each warrior, for there were not enough minutes in a day to allot to each of them, and I had more than fifteen thousand warriors to greet. I stood for hours that night until the muscles in my legs burned with the strain of it. Twice, I broke to drink some tea and take a few moments of rest in my chair at the head of the council table. Then I returned to my new duty, listening to my warriors' pledges: 'Sire, I am Juval Eladar ...'
When morning warmed the roof of my tent with a black sheen, I stepped over to the entrance. I looked out to see a glittering line of warriors stretched out down the lanes of the tents of my encampment, across the square and through the lanes of Lord Tomavar's men's tents. And then out across the grasses of the meadow beyond. I could not see the end of the line, for it disappeared behind the edge of a low hill. At this, I summoned Lord Tomavar and Lord Tanu and said to them, 'This will not do. All the warriors beyond the square - let them stand down. See to it that they are called up only as the warriors ahead of them finish making their pledges. We have a long day ahead of us.'
That day was long indeed - one of the longest of my life. And yet its hours did not suffice for me receive all my warriors' pledges. The sun reached its crest in the cloudy sky at high noon, and then dropped behind the mountains to the west, and still my warriors lined up outside my tent. When it began raining that night - big drops of summer rain that splatted against the earth and thousands of tents with a nearly deafening sound - I considered calling for everyone to break off and take some rest. But Lord Harsha informed me that our army's provisioning was nearly complete, and I did not want to delay our march. And I would not, I said, march until I heard the names of all my warriors.
And so the men of Mesh stood in the pouring rain, gaining a few moments of respite only when they stepped dripping inside my tent to face me. Their names seemed to pour from their mouths in an irresistible torrent of sound: 'Dovaru Elsar, Yulsun of Pushku, Bashar the Brave, Juradan Nolarad .. .' I heard no grumbles, even from those who had stood in the rain the longest. The warriors seemed as eager to honor me as I was to honor them.
'It is a great thing that you do,' Master Juwain said to me as I sat drinking coffee during one of my breaks. 'But you cannot continue on like this. Already, you have stood here more than a day.'
'These warriors,' I said to him, 'will march with me for many days. And then stand in line against our enemies, and many will die. And you say that I cannot continue?'
Later, long past midnight, I fought to hold myself up straight and keep my eyelids open against the burning dryness there. With every name spoken to me, my sword seemed to flare a little brighter, sending stabs of recognition deep into me. The silver gelstei. Master Juwain had once told me, could quicken all the powers of the mind, especially memory. Although it seemed impossible that I could remember each of my warriors, or even a tenth of them, I had a strange sense that my sword's silustria was drinking up their names and holding on to them the way it did the stars' light
Late on the afternoon of the following day, with many more men still to greet, a warrior who stood out from all the others came up to me. Indeed, this warrior was no man at all, but rather one of Mesh's greatest women: for it was Vareva. How she had acquired the suit of diamond armor poorly fitted to her womanly body, I did not know. Perhaps, I thought, she had forced Lord Tomavar to purchase it for her. She wore the two swords that all Valari warriors bore: a bright kalama and the shorter tharam, which she kept sheathed. I looked long and deeply as she held her kalama out to me and said, 'Sire, I am Vareva Tomavar, daughter of Manamar Tanu. I pledge my sword to you, in life and in death.'
'And I pledge my sword to you,' I told her, 'in life and in death.'
I saw the warriors behind her staring at her in anger. Then I drew in a deep breath and told her, 'Many will disapprove of what has just passed between us. They believe that a woman cannot be allowed to be a warrior. But a great man once said this to me: "Does one let the sun shine? No one lets a woman become a warrior.'"
'Then, Sire, I will march with you to the end of -'
I saw a bright hope come alive in her eyes, but I could not allow it to consume her. And so I held up my hand to silence her, 'You are what you are, and even your king must respect that. As you must respect your king. Men are only what they are, too, and all those who have stood before you and remain behind you will not bear to see you march with them to war. It is not the Valari way.'
She bowed her head to me, but then stood up straight and proud as she told me, 'That has not been our way. Sire, it is true.'
'You cannot change what is,' I said to her. 'A man faces battle more bravely for knowing that his woman is safe at home.'
'The warriors,' she informed me, 'say that no man of Mesh is braver than Valashu Elahad. He, whose woman has fought by his side in many terrible battles across the length and breadth of Ea.'
I blinked my burning eyes as I looked at this formidable woman. I had to keep a good grip on my sword to stop my legs from trembling, so that I didn't fall down.
'Atara Ars Narmada,' I said to her, 'has vowed to forsake marriage so long as she remains a warrior.'
'I, too, would make such a vow. Sire.'
'But that is not our way. That is not how a Valari woman serves her people.'
'How should I serve, then, Sire? By staying in Mesh and bearing Lord Tomavar's children?'
'A child, from you, would be a great and beautiful thing.'
'Thank you. Sire. But I want nothing more than to put this into Morjin's filthy creatures, and that would be an even greater thing.'
So saying, she thrust her sword toward the wall of my tent. I shook my head at this. 'You cannot change the nature of things. When a man dies in battle, a woman might remarry and continue to bear children, and nothing is greater than this life. But when a woman dies, all her children that she might have brought forth die with her as well. And if many women die, her people will die.'
I hoped that Vareva might see the sense of what I said to her, for I was too tired to argue with her, and many more warriors stood lined up outside my tent. But Vareva, who had often defeated me at riddles and word games when we were children, seemed not very tired at all, and she had the better argument:
'It is not the Valari way, you say, that women should go to war,' she told me. 'Or else our people will dwindle and begin to die. But, Sire, this war will be a war to the death for the whole Valari people. I know, for I have heard Morjin himself talk of making whole forests into crosses. If we do not fight this war down to the last breath of every man - and woman - we shall lose. And then the Valari will be no more.'
I felt her impassioned breath spilling over my face like fire, I could find no logic to dispute her. And yet I could not, I thought, allow her to march with the army.
'You are a warrior,' I said to her, 'and let no one doubt that.'
I called for Joshu Kadar, one of the knights standing by my side that afternoon, to bring me a wooden box full of rings. I took out one of them - the smallest, set with a single, bright diamond -and I slipped it around Vareva's finger. She seemed delighted to be honored this way.
'Wear this ring,' I said to her, 'that all may recognize a true Valari warrior.'
Lord Avijan and Lord Jessu - Sar Shivalad and other knights, too, who happened to be present - reluctantly rapped their rings against the hilts of their swords in a great sound that nearly drowned out the patter of the rain. Vareva gazed in wonder at the ring encircling her finger; I sensed that she valued it much more than the diamond brooch over which Lord Tanu and Lord Tomavar had nearly gone to war.
But then her happiness seemed to melt away as I said to her, 'I cannot take every warrior with me, and so leave Mesh defenseless. Many will remain, and you must be one of them.'
At this,
she had no choice but to bow her head in acceptance of what I had said.
'But I charge you with a task,' I said to her. 'Other women feel as you do. Behira Harsha, for one. I fear they will train at arms no matter what their king says. Seek them out, then. Train them as warriors against the day we all fear will come.'
Vareva looked at me with hope brightening her face again. 'Thank you, Sire. I shall train a whole battalion of warriors such as the world has never seen!'
Then she turned about and left my tent, and another warrior came forward to tell me his name. And another, and another after that, and then a thousand others. And so the day passed into yet another night.
The next morning, to the sound of birds chittering in the meadows, Maram came into my tent. He bulled his way past the warriors lined up at the entrance and indicated that he wished to speak with me. We stepped off into the corner, where he murmured to me: 'Two full days and one whole night - and here you still are! You cannot continue this way!'
'I can continue!' I told him.
I had to fight the urge to lay my hand upon his huge shoulder for support.
'Ah, well, maybe you can,' he said, looking deep into my eyes. 'But you shouldn 't. It is too much - too, too much.'
'I have faced worse trials before, Maram. We have.'
'At need, we have. In the Red Desert, you drove yourself harder than any man would a slave - even as you drove me. And it kept us alive. But this isn't necessary.'
I looked off toward the tent's entranceway, where I could see a dozen men in diamond armor standing miserably in the rain.
'Some might say,' he told me, 'that this is only a new king's vanity. A great show without true meaning.'
'Do you say that, then?'
'I? No, I don't, and I am a man who knows about vanity. But I do say that you are overzealous. Nearly killing yourself to prove your worthiness as a king.'
I fought to keep myself from yawning and rubbing the sleep from my dry, itching eyes; I fought not to go over to my canopied bed and collapse into unknowingness.
'And more,' Maram went on, 'this desperate learning of names has the taint of thaumaturgy. As if in holding on to one of your men's names, you can magically keep him from dying when his time comes.'
His words worked their way into my hot, pounding brain, and I found myself forced to consider them. Finally, I said to him, 'You know me too well, old friend.'
'Then break off and sleep! Just this one day! And tomorrow finish your task, or the next!'
I slowly shook my head at this. 'A day will come when I must face Morjin. On that day, I will not be able to break off and sleep, no matter how tired I am.'
'But you can't prepare for that like this. It is madness to -'
'The day will come,' I said to him again. 'And when it does, no matter what I do, many of the men I have greeted in this tent will die. But how many, then? If it is not to be all of them, then I fear that we will have to fight such as the Valari have never fought before. As men have never fought. We are so few, and our enemy is so many. We cannot defeat them through force of arms alone - this the wisest of the wise has told me. All we will have, in the end, is our spirits. And if our spirits are to be as one, and we are to die for each other - and live! - then I must know who my warriors are, and they must know me.'
Maram, suddenly understanding, nodded his head to me. He sighed, long and deeply, as he looked at me. Then he drew his sword and with great sadness said, 'Sire, I am Maram Marshayk, son of Santoval Marshayk, of Delarid. I pledge my sword to you, in life and in death!'
After he had gone, I spent the rest of that morning, afternoon and evening as I had the days before. It seemed to me that I must have spoken with fifteen million men, and not fifteen thousand. I finally summoned Lord Tanu, and asked him, 'How many more?'
'Nearly a thousand, Sire.'
'And is that all, then?'
Lord Tanu hesitated as his old face tightened with weariness. It seemed that he had slept little, either, over the past days.
'There are only the warriors,' he said to me, 'who refused to stand for you on the day you were acclaimed - eighty-nine of them. It was thought that you wouldn't want to know their names.'
As a king, of course, I now had the right to command every man in Mesh, and not just those who had acclaimed me. But I would rather lead them. And so I said to Lord Tanu, and to Lord Avijan and Lord Sharad also present and bending over the map table: 'It takes courage to stand against the enemy in battle. But it takes a deeper and truer courage to stand out by keeping to one's convictions when almost everyone is taking a different course. I do not know why the men you have spoken of failed to stand for me. Their reasons are their reasons. But those men I especially want to honor. I can tell you that when battle finally comes, none will stand more valiantly.'
As I had requested of Lord Tanu, he made it be. I endured the last hours of my vigil greeting the last of my warriors. I learned the names of those who had refused to stand for me but now must follow me to war: Ianadar Elshan, Yarsar Ralvalam, Juvalad the Elder, Marsavay of Mir... and all eighty-five others.
At last, there came a moment when the open flaps at the front of my tent revealed only the campfires of my army flickering in the dark and the vast, starry sky. I stepped outside beneath these glistening lights. I had spoken with more than fifteen thousand men. As I pointed my sword toward the bright heavens, I felt a brighter thing burning behind my eyes, and I knew that all fifteen thousand of their names blazed somewhere inside me.
It was a moment of great triumph. I dared to think, for one shining instant in time, that my warriors and I could wield our swords as one and utterly vanquish Morjin. I willed this to be, with all the might of my mind and the force of my heart.
And then I chanced to think of Atara riding blindly across the plains somewhere in the dark world to the west. In my utter exhaustion, fighting the leaden pain in my eyes and to keep from collapsing onto the trampled grass, I let my desire to defeat Morjin descend into a wrath for vengeance. I saw myself gouging out his eyes as he had Atara's; I wanted to repay him death for death, and hate for hate. I longed for this one, last battle to the very bottom of my soul. I knew that this terrible urge was as beneath me as I should be beyond it. But I couldn't seem to help it. It came welling up through me like a dark dream through sleep. And in that terrible, terrible moment - an eyeblink in time - the Ahrim attacked me.
Like a filthy blanket steeped in poison, it fell out of nowhere down around my head. It closed in over my face, nearly smothering me; it burned my eyes like acid. And then the light of the stars disappeared, and I found myself standing alone inside an utter blackness.
Chapter 11
Somehow, I managed to stumble back through my tent and to find my bed. I fell onto it. Given all that had occurred over the past four days, none of those present - Lord Avijan, Lord Sharad and Joshu Kadar - thought this strange. I asked Lord Avijan and Lord Sharad to leave me. Then I bade Joshu Kadar to go find Master Juwain.
Alone in my tent I tried to summon the fierce light inside myself by which I had twice driven off the Ahrim. But either I could not find it or else my life fires had burned too low. I pressed my hands against the pain stabbing into my eyes, and then opened them. I could not make out any of the things of my pavilion: the council and map tables; my small clothes chest and a larger one full of treasure; the candles in their stands and the braziers full of hot coals. All was lost into a blackness as total as a cave's deepest depths.
There came a moment when I despaired. I shook my head from side to side in a wild, terrified fury. But it did nothing to dispel the Ahrim. I seemed only to find within myself a deeper blackness inside the blackness, if that were possible.
Finally, Master Juwain came into my tent and knelt by the side of my bed. He asked me, 'Val, what is wrong?'
I turned my head toward the sound of his voice and said, 'I am blind.'
I tried to explain what had happened. I asked him for his help. Only a few days before,
however, he had tried to use his green gelstei to heal my afflicted throat, to no avail.
'What attacks you is beyond my power to drive away,' he told me. 'Beyond the power of our friends, as well. That, I think, has been proven. But on that first day in the woods, it seemed that in opening yourself to what power we do possess, it helped you find your own.'
I nodded my head at this. 'But on that day, Atara had not left me.'
'True - and I can only imagine how much her love for you strengthens you. But you have two friends, now, who weren't with us in the woods.'
'Kane,' I murmured. 'Bemossed.'
'Indeed. Kane seems to know things about the Ahrim. And Bemossed is Bemossed.'
Again, I nodded my head. 'Please summon them, then. And Liljana. Maram, too, of course - and the children. I want all my friends by my side.'
At this, Alphanderry somehow came into being within my tent - or so Master Juwain told me. I could not see him any more than I could Master Juwain or anything else.
'And please ask Joshu Kadar to come back inside,' I said to Master Juwain. 'He will have to know what has happened to me, but no one else must.'
'But what of Abrasax and the other Masters?'
'All right,' I said, 'bring them with you, too, but no one else.'
The Guardians standing outside my tent during that watch - Sar Jonavar, Sar Shivalad, Sar Kanshar and Siraj the Younger - must have thought it strange that I summoned my old friends to me so late at night. But kings must sometimes take council at odd hours, and so I hoped that my actions would cause my warriors no suspicion or distress.
A little later, everyone I had sent for gathered by my bedside as I had requested. Kane pressed his rough old hand to my forehead, taking care to avoid the plaster that Master Juwain had set over my reopened scar. And he told me, 'I know less about the Ahrimana than you might hope. It partakes of Angra Mainyu's being - this I have said. It has escaped from Damoom, where the Baaloch is still bound, eh? And so I must wonder if anything can bind it. I think not. At least not here on Ea. For in a way, the Ahrimana has not really escaped at all, but merely made its way from the darkest of the Dark Worlds to one that has been falling into shadow for a long time.'
Diamond Warriors Page 20
