The Shattered Stone

by Robert Newman

  “Where?” asked Liall.

  “In the word you brought. You truly do not know who gave you the quest you talked of, or told you about the stone on Tarec?”

  “No,” said Liall, and both Neva and Ivo shook their heads.

  Zothar studied them each in turn, looking deep into their eyes.

  “I believe you,” he said finally. “But then it must be that some power has decided to intervene and is using you as its instrument.”

  “You have always been interested in ancient lore,” said Liall. “What power could that be?”

  “I don’t know,” said Zothar. “There are many powers in the land, both good and evil.”

  “You think this one could be evil?” asked Neva.

  “Since it is clearly on our side, no. And while I do not believe I can do anything with the king, I still may be able to do something. You said you could read the stone you found on Tarec?”

  “Not all of it,” said Neva. “Some parts of it were missing.”

  “And what did it say?”

  Neva hesitated for a moment, then told him. Zothar looked thoughtful, then went to a small chest near the table and took out a small, flat fragment of black stone.

  “Could this be one of the pieces that were missing?”

  “Yes!” said Ivo. “That’s the piece the gore-crow flew off with. Liall was going to ask you about it.”

  “You knew I had it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?”

  Ivo told him about Akala and what he had reported to them.

  “This is all very strange,” said Zothar. “I thought so when the crow dropped the stone—that is why I kept it. Now I am glad I did. Here.” And he gave the fragment of stone to Neva.

  “We will need a looking glass to read it,” she said.

  Zothar raised a surprised eyebrow at this, but he did not ask why. He got a polished metal mirror from a cupboard and handed it to her. She held the stone fragment in front of it, and she and Ivo looked at its reflection.

  “There’s just one word on it,” said Ivo. “‘Daughter.’”

  “No,” said Neva, pointing to a short slanting line on the edge of the fragment. “This stroke here is a possessive. If this piece fits where I think it does the inscription reads, ‘Arnor and Brunn shall again be one when Ima’s daughter marries …’ and then there’s another piece missing.”

  “That was something else we meant to ask you about,” said Liall. “Who is Ima?”

  “Those in Brunn claim that she was a goddess,” said Zothar, “though she was probably one of their first queens. In any case, she is revered there as the founder of Brunn, as we revere Kennar as our first ancestor.”

  “But she must have lived centuries ago,” said Liall. “How could she have a daughter who could still marry?”

  “I don’t know,” said Zothar. “If we could find the last fragment of stone—the part that is still missing—that might become clear.”

  “How can we find it?” asked Ivo. “It is a wonder almost beyond belief that we should have found this one.”

  “Still it did come into our hands,” said Zothar. “Which I take to be a sign that some power is on our side. And we have need of such help, for there is little time left. And if the king does attack Brunn, as he intends to do, that will be the end of all hope of peace forever.”

  “Forever?” said Liall. “We want war no more than you do. But Andor and Brunn have fought many times before this. And afterwards there was always quiet for some years if not true peace.”

  “That is so. But this time it is different.”

  “Different how?” asked Neva.

  Zothar looked at them gravely for a moment.

  “Since the king knows that I do not hold with him in this, he no longer trusts me and has not told me when he intends to strike. But you have trusted me, telling me all that you know, and so I will tell you.”

  Taking a key from his pouch, he unlocked a cupboard and brought out a large hour-glass and set it on the table. The sand in it was black, and very little of it remained in the top portion.

  “My father, who was steward before me, gave me this when he knew he was about to die, instructing me to show it to no one unless the need was great. He said he was forbidden to say where he had gotten it, but that it should serve as both a spur to me and a guide in all my counsels. For it measured, not only time, but the very life of Andor.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Liall.

  “He said—and he never spoke lightly—that if there was not true peace between Andor and Brunn before the sands ran out, then that would be the end for us and for them. For there would never be peace.”

  They all stared at the glass, watching as the sand sifted down almost, it seemed, a grain at a time.

  “How much time is left?” asked Neva.

  “As you can see, very little. I would say not more than a fortnight and perhaps less.”

  “I do not know what more we can do,” said Liall.

  “Nor do I,” said Zothar. “But our talk has heartened me and made me more hopeful than I have been in many years. Let us all think about it and talk again. In the meantime, it is late and I have kept you too long from your beds.”

  “I am weary,” said Liall. And with a last glance at the hour-glass, they said good night to Zothar and went out and down the stairs to their own chambers.

  Chapter 12

  “You slept late this morning,” said the king. “Much later than is your custom. I trust you slept well.”

  “I did, uncle,” said Liall.

  “And your friends?”

  “We slept very well, Your Majesty,” said Ivo.

  “I’m glad,” said the king. “By your account you travelled far and did much and had need of rest. But what do you plan to do today?”

  They were standing outside the great hall where they had broken their fast and when they were leaving it they had come upon the king.

  “We thought we would go hawking,” said Liall.

  “So I suspected,” said the king, looking at Neva who had on a riding dress. “Are you good falconers?”

  “I don’t know, sire,” she said. “I’m not sure that Ivo and I have ever done it before.”

  “That is another thing you can’t remember?”

  “Yes, sire.”

  “Perhaps it will come back to you when you try it.” Then turning to Ivo, “I see that you’re wearing a sword as you did when you arrived here. Can you use it?”

  “Yes, sire. At least I think so.”

  “He can,” said Liall. “And very well.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I saw him fight a Hilti out in the Morven.”

  “And who taught you to use it?” the king asked Ivo.

  “I don’t know, sire. But I have the feeling that I was well trained.”

  His eyes on him, the king nodded, and Ivo suddenly realized that his questions had been far from idle; that he was testing their whole story with them, searching for inconsistencies. And the king must have sensed that he had guessed this for he said, “You must forgive me, but everything you have told me is very strange.”

  “It cannot seem stranger to you than it does to us, sire,” said Ivo. “But it is the truth.”

  “I believe you. And where will you go hawking?”

  “We’ll start in the river meadows,” said Liall. “And if we raise nothing there, we’ll try the heath.”

  “If you do go to the heath, stay on the near side of it,” said the king. “Don’t go too far north.”

  “Why not?” asked Liall.

  “Because I don’t wish you to,” said the king, frowning.

  “Is that a warning, uncle?” asked Liall, his lips tightening.

  “Yes,” said the king. “Haven’t we all suffered enough at the hands of those from Brunn? If you go near the border, you’ll be stopped!”

  He and Liall looked at one another, and it was clear that Liall was angry and resentful. But whil
e Ivo could understand this, he knew that the king had been sorely tried and now felt himself opposed—not only by his chief adviser, the high steward—but by his closest kin, his own nephew. And looking at his strong, lined face Ivo felt—not only sympathetic—but drawn to him.

  The king saw this, and his face softened.

  “Your friend understands me better than you do, Liall. I am no tyrant, but I will not have my plans interfered with. Good hunting.” And he strode off.

  “Shall we still go?” asked Neva.

  “Of course,” said Liall shortly, and he led the way to the palace courtyard and across it to the mews.

  When Ivo had awakened that morning, it had taken him a moment to remember where he was. Then it had all come flooding back, not only their arrival at Lantar and their meeting with the king, but their later one with Zothar. He felt the old familiar sense of loss when he realized that was all he remembered. Though they now knew a little more of what the inscription said, the spell was still on him. At the same time this small new bit of knowledge, along with what Zothar had told them, made their quest more urgent than ever. Dressing quickly, he had knocked at the door of Neva’s room and had barely greeted her when Liall had joined them. They had agreed that they must talk and also decided that it would be better not to do so in the palace where they could be overheard.

  “Where shall we go then?” Neva had asked.

  “We shall go hawking,” Liall had said. “That is one way we can be alone.” And he had gone off to borrow a riding dress for her from one of the ladies who attended his mother.

  Iskan, the king’s falconer, was sitting on a bench outside the mews and braiding a new jess for one of the hawks. An elderly man, his face lined and leathery, he rose and greeted Liall warmly, for they were old friends. He went into the mews with them, took one of the peregrine falcons from her perch, hooded her and gave her to Liall. Then, as they were about to leave, he said, “I hear you were in the far west and climbed Tarec.”

  “Yes,” said Liall. “Where did you hear it?”

  “Oh, word gets about. I was there myself many years ago, about the time you were born.”

  “And climbed Tarec also?”

  “Yes.”

  “It is a difficult climb.”

  “Not so difficult. I come from Dernan where there are much higher peaks. Afterwards I heard that it was a forbidden mountain, but I did not know that then and I saw nothing of the watcher of whom many speak.”

  “What of the black stone that was set there? Did you see that?”

  “I did. In fact I was there the day it was shattered.”

  Liall stiffened. “The day? …”

  “Yes.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “At that time your uncle was a great falconer, and I had gone there to get an eaglet for him. There are many eyries in those parts.”

  “Yes,” said Liall. “You went alone?”

  “I started out alone,” said Iskan, “crossing the marshes and going up into the hills from the south. But when I climbed Tarec I had a companion; the falconer of King Brennir of Brunn.”

  “That seems odd—for you to have a companion from Brunn.”

  “Not so odd. Things were not so bad then. There was even talk of peace between Andor and Brunn. But even if there hadn’t been, it would not have mattered for, as you know, there is a bond between falconers that recognizes no boundaries.”

  “That’s true. He was a friend of yours, the falconer from Brunn?”

  “Not to begin with. His name was Largar, and we met for the first time near the foot of Tarec. He was there for the same reason I was—to take an eaglet if he could. So we climbed the mountain together.”

  “And you were there when the stone was shattered?” asked Neva.

  “Yes, my lady, though we did not see it happen. We had been on the peak, seen the stone and had talked about it. Largar said it had been set there by the goddess who founded Brunn.”

  “Ima,” said Liall.

  “Yes. Well, we had just started down towards an eyrie we had spied when there was a bright flash of light and a great crash behind us.”

  “What had caused it?” asked Ivo.

  “We were not sure. It looked and sounded like a lightning bolt, though the sky was clear. In any case, we went back up, and there was the stone, shattered, split and lying on its face.”

  “That’s the way we found it,” said Liall. “It’s strange that you should have been there when it happened.”

  “It was strange. Largar was very disturbed by it. He said it was an omen that boded ill for Brunn and perhaps for Andor, too. And he picked up a piece of the stone to take back to Brunn with him.”

  “He what?” said Liall.

  “Picked up a piece of the stone to show to King Brennir.”

  “Was there writing on it—the piece he took?” asked Neva.

  “There was something on it that may have been writing, but we could not read it.”

  “And he took it back to Brunn with him?” Liall asked.

  “Yes, Prince. I never saw him again but I have often thought of him. He was older than I was and a great falconer. I learned much from him in the short time we were together.”

  “As I learned much from you, Iskan,” said Liall.

  “Well, you always had a feeling for the hawks, Prince,” said Iskan, smiling. “But I did not mean to keep you here for so long telling you of things that happened long ago. I hope the peregrine flies well.”

  Liall thanked him, and they left the mews.

  “Wait,” he said as Ivo started to say something. “We have more to talk about now than ever. But let us do it later.”

  So Ivo restrained himself while they went around behind the mews to the stables. A groom brought out horses for them, and they mounted and with the falcon on Liall’s fist rode across the square and out through the town gates.

  “Well?” said Liall when they were in the meadows near the river.

  “When Zothar showed us the fragment of stone last night, he said he took it to be a sign that some power was on our side, guiding us,” said Ivo. “If I doubted it then, I do no longer. For here, beyond all expectation, we have been told where the last piece is.”

  “I agree,” said Liall. “The question is what we should do about it. What say you, Neva?”

  “I think it is you who should say. For while the quest was given to all of us—and if you are right our fate is greatly involved in it—still your case is different from ours.”

  “How so?”

  “Though there is nothing that Ivo and I want more than to have the spell that is on us lifted, that is a matter that concerns only the two of us. You, on the other hand, have responsibilities and allegiances that we do not.”

  “You mean not only to Andor but to my uncle.”

  “Yes.”

  “But what if I think that my uncle is wrong?”

  Neither Neva nor Ivo answered.

  “Well, that is what I do think,” said Liall. “I think that what Andor needs is peace, not war. And even if that were not the issue, I would be a poor friend if I were not as anxious to see you returned to yourselves as you are. And so I think we should go to Brunn and see if we can find the last fragment of the stone.”

  Ivo relaxed. From the time Iskan had told them his story he had determined that he and Neva would go to Brunn even if Liall did not.

  “I’m glad, Liall,” he said. “But it may not be easy to go. You heard what the king said.”

  “I heard. And I do not think it will be easy. But if we are meant to go—as I think we are—it may be that we shall be helped there, too. So shall we ride?”

  Neva and Ivo exchanged glances and both smiled at him. Then, turning their horses, they rode north away from the river and towards the heath.

  It was almost noon when they had talked to Iskan and by the time they had left the meadows, farms and fields behind them and were on the heath the sun was well on its way to the west. They paused on to
p of a rise and looked about them. Some sheep grazed nearby; an old ram watching them curiously. Far to the north they could see the green line of the forest that separated Andor and Brunn. But apart from the sheep nothing else moved on the vast rolling expanse of the heath.

  This was as far as they had been told they could go and as Liall sent his horse forward again, Ivo said, “Should we not at least pretend that we are hawking?”

  “Who is to see if we are or not?” asked Liall and they rode on.

  When they were at the bottom of the rise, Neva turned, looking behind her and said, “Look!”

  They turned also. Flying towards them from the south was a dark bird. As it drew nearer, it came lower and soon they could see that it was a gore-crow—and none of them doubted that it was the one that had flown off with the fragment of stone on Tarec.

  It circled overhead once, so low that they could see the sheen of its feathers and the gleam of its eye as it looked down at them, then it flew off again the way it had come, back towards Lantar.

  “Perhaps we should do some hawking after all,” said Liall grimly, and unhooding the falcon, he cast her off into the wind.

  Though unprepared, she was away at once, her great pointed wings taking her upward to gain her pitch. When she was well above them, she saw the crow and swinging around in a tight arc, she stooped, closing her wings and diving down on it with her sharp claws forward and ready. The crow flapped on, apparently unaware of the feathered death that was coming down on it. But as the falcon was about to strike, the crow veered and rose to meet it. The two birds were too far away and too high for any of them to see what happened, but when they separated it was the falcon that was falling while the crow flew on, disappearing behind the high ground to the south.

  The falcon struck the ground and lay still. Liall rode towards her, and Neva and Ivo followed.

  “This I have never seen nor heard of,” said Liall, looking down at the lifeless body. “That a crow should kill a falcon.”

  “If there is a power that is on our side, helping us,” said Neva, “why should there not also be one that is against us? It was not by chance that the stone was shattered. It was broken so that it could not be read. And that must also be why the monster was there, guarding it.”