Black Jade

by David Zindell

  'It is nearly time to eat,' Liljana called out to us- Her heavy breasts moved against her thick, strong body as she stirred the succulent-smelling stew. 'Why don't you practice after dinner?'

  Although her words came out of her firm mouth as a question, sweetly posed, there was no question that we must put off our swordwork until later. Beneath her bound, iron-gray hair, her pleasant face betrayed an iron will. She liked to bring the cheer and good order of a home into our encampments by directing cooking, eating and cleaning, even talking, and many other details of our lives. I might be the leader of our company on our quest across Ea's burning steppes and icy mountains, but she sought by her nature to try to lead me from within. Through countless kindnesses and her relentless devotion, she had dug up the secrets of my soul. It seemed that there was no sacrifice that she wouldn't make for me - even as she never tired, in her words and deeds, of letting me know how much she loved me. At her best, however, she called me to my best, as warrior, dreamer and man. Now that the insides of my father's castle had been burnt to ashes, she was the only mother I still had.

  'There will be no swordwork tonight,' I said, to Liljana and Daj, 'unless the Red Knights attack us. We need to hold council.'

  'Very well then, but I hope you're not still considering attacking them.' Liljana looked through the steam wafting up from the stew, straight at Kane. She shook her head, then called out, 'Estrella, are those cakes ready yet?'

  Estrella, a dark, slender girl of quicksilver expressions and bright smiles, dapped her hands to indicate that the yellow rushk cakes - piled high on a grass mat by her griddle - were indeed ready to eat. She could not speak, for she, too, had been Morjin's slave, and he had used his black arts to steal the words from her tongue. But she had the hearing of a cat; in truth, there was something feline about her, in her wild, triangular face and in the way she moved, instinctually and gracefully, as if all the features of the world must be sensed and savored. With her black curls gathered about her neck, her lustrous skin and especially her large, luminous eyes, she possessed a primeval beauty. I had never known anyone, not even Kane, who seemed so alive.

  Almost without thought, she plucked one of the freshest cakes from the top of the piles and placed it in my hand. It was still quite hot, though not enough to burn me. As I took a bite out of it, her smile was like the rising sun.

  'Estrella, you shouldn't serve until we're all seated,' Liljana instructed her.

  Estrella smiled at Liljana, too, though she did not move to do as she was told. Instead, seeing that I had finished my cake, she gave me another one. She delighted in bringing me such little joys as the eating of a hot, nutty rushk cake. It had always been that way between us, ever since I had found her clinging to a cold, castle wall and saved her from falling to her death. And countless times since that dark night, in her lovely eyes and her deep covenant with life, she had kept me from falling into much worse.

  'The girl never minds me,' Liljana complained. 'She always does just as she pleases.'

  I smiled because what she said was true. I watched as Estrella tried to urge one of the cakes into Liljana's hand. She seemed not to resent Liljana's stern looks or scolding; indeed, Liljana's oppressive care for her and her desire to teach her good manners obviously pleased her, as did almost everything about the people she loved. Her will to be happy, I thought, was even greater than Liljana's urge to remake the world as the paradise it had been in the Age of the Mother. It must have vexed Liljana that our quest depended utterly upon this wild, magical child.

  'She was a slave of the Red Priests,' Kane said to Liljana. 'So who can blame her for not wanting to be your slave, too?'

  As Liljana paused in stirring the stew to glare at Kane, more wounded by his cruel words than angry. Master Juwain cleared his throat and said, 'The closer we've come to Argattha, it seems, the more she has relished her freedom.'

  We were, I tought, much too close to Morjin's dark city, carved out of the dark heart of the black mountain called Skartaru. Our course across the Wendrush had inevitably brought us this way. And it seemed that it had inevitably brought the knights of Morjin's Dragon Guard upon our heels. As Estrella began passing out rushk cakes to everyone, Liljana called for Atara to sit down, and she began ladling the stew into wooden bowls. From out of the darkness at the edge of our encampment where our horses were hobbled, a tall woman appeared and walked straight toward us. And that, I thought, was a miracle, because a white cloth encircled her head, covering the hollows which had once held the loveliest and most sparkling pair of sapphire-blue eyes. Atara Ars Narmada, daughter of the murdered King Kiritan and Sajagax's beloved granddaughter, moved with all the prowess of the princess and the warrior-woman that she was. In consideration of our quest, she had cast off the lionskin cloak that she usually wore in favor of plain gray woolens. Gone were the golden hoops that had once encircled her lithe arms and the lapis beads bound to her long, golden hair. Few, outside of the Wendrush, would recognize her as one of the Sarni. But in her hand she gripped the great, double-curved bow of the Sarni archers, and the Sarni knew her as the great imakla warrior of the Manslayer Society. I knew her as a scryer who had great powers of sight, in space and time, and most of all, as the only woman I could ever love.

  'Vanora, Suri and Mata,' she told me, naming three of her sisters of the Manslayers, 'will take watches tonight, so we won't have to worry about the Zayak trying to steal the horses.'

  For the thousandth time that day, I looked back in the direction where our enemy gathered. As Atara knew very well, I worried about much more than this.

  She sat down between Liljana and Master Juwain, and picked up a bowl of stew. Before permitting herself to taste any of it, she continued her report: 'Karimah has set patrols, so there won't be any surprises. Bajorak has, too.'

  In the deepening night, the steppe's grasses swayed and glowed beneath the stars. There, crickets chirped and snakes slithered, hunting rabbits or voles or other prey. There, forty yards to our left, Bajorak and some thirty Danladi warriors sat around their fires roasting sagosk joints over long spits. And forty yards to our right, Karimah and her twelve Manslayers - women drawn from half a dozen of the Sarni tribes - prepared their own dinner. It was our greatest strategic weakness, I thought, that the Manslayers disdained camaraderie with the Danladi men. And that both contingents of our Sarni escort neither really liked nor trusted us.

  'I would sleep better tonight,' Maram told her, 'if the enemy weren't so close.'

  'Hmmph, you sleep better than any man I've ever known, enemy or no enemy,' Atara said to him. 'But fear not, we Sarni rarely fight night battles. There won't be any attack tonight.'

  'Are you speaking as a Sarni warrior or a scryer?'

  In answer, Atara only smiled at him, and then returned to her dinner.

  'Ah, well,' Maram continued, 'I should tell you that it's not the Zayak who really concern me, at least not until daybreak - and then I shall fear their arrows, too bad. No, it's those damn Red Knights. What if they charge straight into our encampment while we're sleeping?'

  'They won't do that,' Atara reassured him.

  'But what if they do?'

  'They won't.' Atara looked up at the bright moon. 'They fear arrows as much as you do. And there's enough light that they would still make good targets, at least at short range.'

  I touched the hilt of my sword, sheathed beside me, and I said, 'We can't count on this.'

  'In three days,' Atara said, 'they've kept their distance. They haven't the numbers to prevail.'

  'And that is precisely the point,' I said. 'Perhaps they are waiting for reinforcements.'

  'So, just so,' Kane said as he squeezed his bowl of stew between his calloused hands. 'And so, if there must be battle, we should take it to them before it's too late.'

  For three days and nights, I thought, my friends and I had been arguing the same argument. But now the mountains were drawing nearer, and a decision must be made,

  'We may not have the numbers to pr
evail, either,' Atara said. She positioned her head facing Estrella and Daj, who sat across the fire from her. 'And what of the children?'

  The children, of course, were at risk no matter what course we chose: attacking our enemy would only expose them to recapture or death all the sooner. It was that way with all children everywhere, even in lands far away and still free. With Morjin in control of the Lightstone, uncontested, it would only be a matter of time before everyone on Ea was either put on crosses or enslaved.

  'I can fight!' Daj suddenly announced, drawing out his small blade.

  We all knew that he could. We all knew, too, that Estrella had a heart of pure fire. Her great promise, however, was not in fighting the enemy with swords but with a finer and deeper weapon. As her dark, almond eyes fixed on me, I felt in her an unshakeable courage - and her unshakeable confidence in me to lead us the right way.

  'We must either fight or flee,' I said. 'But if we do flee, flee where?'

  'We could still go into the mountains,' Maram said. 'But farther south of the Kul Kavaakurk. And then we could turn north toward the Brotherhood school. We'll lose our enemy in the mountains.'

  'We'll lose ourselves,' Master Juwain put in. 'Try to remember, Brother Maram, that -'

  'Sar Maram,' Maram said, correcting him. He held up his hand to show the double-diamond ring that proclaimed him a Valari knight.

  'Sar Maram, then,' Master Juwain said with a sigh. 'But try to remember that this school has remained a secret from the Lord of Lies only because our Grandmaster has permitted knowledge of it to very few. No map shows its location. I may be able to find it -but only from the gorge called the Kul Kavaakurk.'

  For the thousandth time, I scanned the ghostly, white wall of mountains to the west of us. Could we find this secret school of the Great White Brotherhood? And if by some miracle we did reach this place of power deep within the maze of mountains of the lower Nagarshath, would we find the Grandmaster still alive? And more importantly, would he - or any of the Brotherhood's masters - be able to tell us in which land the Maitreya had been born? For it was said that this great Shining One might be able to wrest the Lightstone from Morjin, if not in the substance of the golden bowl, then at least in the wielding of it.

  'There must be such a gorge,' I told Master Juwain. 'We will certainly find it, if not tomorrow, then the next day.'

  'We would find it the easier,' Atara said, 'if we took Bajorak into our confidence. Surely he would know what gorges or passes give out onto the Danladi's country.'

  'He might know,' Master Juwain agreed. 'But he might not know it by that name. And if we can help it, he must not know that name.'

  He went on to say that Bajorak, under torture or the seduction of gold, might betray the name to Morjin. And that might key ancient knowledge of clues as to the school's whereabouts.

  'If the Red Dragon discovered our greatest school so close to Argattha,' he told us, 'that would be a greater disaster than I can tell.'

  The fire, burning logs of cottonwood that we had found by a stream, crackled and hissed. I stared into the writhing flames as I marvelled at the near-impossibility of pis new quest. There were too many contingencies that must fall in our favor if we were to succeed. Would Estrella, I wondered, when the time came, really be able to show us the Maitreya, a had been prophesied? And if she did. was it not the slenderest of hopes that we would be able to spirit him to safety before Morjin succeeded in murdering him?

  'All right,' I said, 'we cannot go south, as Maram has suggested. Our choices, then, are either to turn and attack or to lead the way into this Kul Kavaakurk and hope that we can lose our enemy before we betray the way to the school.'

  Master Juwain's lips tightened in dismay because either alternative was repugnant to him.

  'Or,' Maram put in, 'we could still try to outride the Red Knights. If you're concerned about me lagging and can't bear to see me make a stand against them, I could always turn off in another direction and try to meet up with you later.'

  I leaned over to grasp his arm, and I said, 'No, you'd only make yourself easy prey, and I couldn't bear that. Whatever we do, we'll all stay together.'

  'Then perhaps we should make our way to Delu and stay there until next year.'

  He went on to say that his father, King Santoval Marshayk, would provide us shelter - and perhaps even a ship and crew to sail the lands of Ea in search of the Maitreya.

  I stared at the sky in the west over the mountains leading to Skartaru, and in my mind's eye, I saw a great hourglass full of sparkling sands like unto stars. And with every breath that I drew and every word wasted in speculation - with every minute, hour and day that passed - the sands fell and crashed and darkened like burnt-out cinders as Morjin gained mastery of the-Lightstone.

  'We cannot wait until next year,' I said. 'And we are agreed that our bell hope of finding the Maitreya lies in reaching the Brotherhood school.'

  'In that case,' Maram said, 'our dilemma remains: do we flee or fight?'

  Atara had now finished her stew, and she sat quietly between Liljana and Master Juwain as the fire's orange light danced across her blindfolded face. Sometimes, I knew, she could 'see' the grasses and grasshoppers and other features of the world about her, and other times she was truly blind. Just as sometimes she could see the future - or at least its possibilities.

  'Atara,' I asked her, 'what do you think we should do?' 'Flee,' she said. 'Let's see how well these Red Knights can ride.'

  She waited as my heart drummed five times, then turned toward me as she declared, 'You would rather see how well they can fight.'

  I said nothing as I gripped the hilt of my sword.

  'I must tell you, Val,' she said to me, 'that it is not certain that the warriors who ride with us will fight just because you ask them to.'

  I pointed out across the steppe and said, 'Fifty men, Red Knights and Zayak, pursue us. And your warriors are Manslayers, are they not?'

  'Indeed they are,' she said. Now it was her turn to grip the great unstrung bow that she had set by her side. 'And indeed they will fight - if I ask them. But Bajorak and his warriors are another matter.'

  'He agreed to escort us to the mountains.'

  'Yes, and so he will certainly fight if we are attacked. So far, though, we are only followed.'

  'In this country,' I said, 'with this enemy, it is the same thing.'

  Liljana made a show of collecting our empty bowls and serving us some succulent bearberries for dessert. During dinner she had not said very much. But now, as she often did, she cut me to the quick with only a few words: 'I think you love to hate this enemy too much,' she told me.

  For a moment I looked down at my sword's hilt, at the diamond pommel and the smaller diamonds set into the black jade. Then I met eyes with Liljana and said, 'How should I not hate them? They might be the very same knights who put nails through my mother's hands and feet!'

  'They might be,' she admitted. 'But would you then throw yourself upon their lances and put nails through my heart?'

  Because I could not bear to look at Liljana just then, I returned to my vigil, staring out across the steppe at our enemy's fires. I muttered, 'How did they find us and who leads them? What do they intend?'

  Kane scowled at this and spat out, 'What does Morjin ever intend?'

  'I must know,' I said. I looked around the circle at my friends. 'We must know, if we are to reach a decision.'

  'Some things,' Master Juwain said, 'are unknowable.'

  I turned to Liljana and asked, 'What of your crystal?' 'And other things,' Master Juwain continued, looking from me to Liljana, 'are better left unknown.'

  Liljana reached into her tunic's inner pocket and brought out a small figurine cast into the form of a whale. It had the luster of lapis and the hint of the ocean's deep currents. Long ago, in another age, it had been forged of blue gelstei.

  'Are you asking,' she said to me, 'that I should look into the minds of these Red Knights?'

  Just then, out of the blac
kness beyond the fire. Flick appeared like a tiny, whirling array of stars. His colors of crimson, silver and blue, throwing out sparks, also pulsed in patterns that I took to be a warning. What was this strange being who had followed me across the length of Ea, I wondered? Was he truly a messenger of the Galadin, a little bit of starlight and angel fire? Or did he possess a will all his own, and therefore his own life and his own fate?

  Master Juwain, upon glancing at Flick, turned to Liljana and commanded her, 'No, do not use your gelstei!'

  Then he brought out his own gelstei: the emerald healing crystal that he had gained on our first quest. He held it up to the fire, letting the flickering light pour through its green-tinged translucency. Although it was hard to tell in the deep of night, a darkness seemed to have fallen over the crystal, as if it were steeped in shadow.

  'It's too dangerous!' he said to Liljana. 'Now that the Dragon has regained the Lightstone, too damned dangerous! Especially for you.'

  Maram regarded Master Juwain in shock, and so did I, for we had never heard him curse before. Liljana sat looking at her gelstei, cupped in her hands. As if she were holding a newborn, she swayed rhythmically back and forth.

  'I won't believe that Morjin can use the Lightstone to taint this crystal,' she said. 'How can that which is most fair abide anything

  fouler.

  'Surely the foulness,' I said, 'arises from Morjin himself and our weakness in resisting him. He desecrates everything he touches.'

  I turned to look at the white cloth binding Atara's face. I couldn't help remembering how Morjin, with his own fingers, had torn out her eyes.

  'So, every abomination, every degradation of the spirit,' Kane said, gazing at Liljana's blue stone. 'But things aren't as simple as you think, eh? Don't be so sure you understand Morjin - or the Lightstone!'