by Andre Norton
I summoned my jewel to leave his hand and approach me. Its energy warmed my mental essence like life-giving rays of the sun. I drew upon its strength, and bespoke the young man mentally, in the speech of the Alizon I had known. At first, he seemed not to understand me, then he gave a great cry, and fell to his knees.
I realized that he must be frightened by my mind-speech. Disturbed that he should fear me, I urged him to rise, employing the intimate mindspeech that transcends all spoken language. I explained to him that my apparent revival was merely temporary; that I must take immediate action to reunite the shards of my magically cloven self or else I would soon disperse into nothingness.
In order to achieve the swiftest transfer of information, I requested that he allow me to touch his mind directly, thus permitting me access to his memories. As in my previous experience with the Lady Veronda of the Dales, I could not and would not act without the willful consent of my respondent.
The young man did not reply to me vocally—indeed, his body trembled as he stepped forward toward me, but he faced me despite his understandable trepidation, and firmly nodded his assent.
By the Power of my jewel, I reached into his memories. To my initial surprise, I learned that this Kasarian of Alizon was not the Child of my Mind whom I had expected to rescue me; that child, borne by the Lady Veronda, had been a female named Mereth. Through Kasarian’s eyes, I viewed her as he had last beheld her, abed, recovering from grave injuries she had suffered while risking her life to retrieve my jewel. Alarmed, I scanned Kasarian’s store of background knowledge. Mereth had been born in the Dales nearly seventy-six years ago, but Kasarian recalled my activities in the land of Alizon as having occurred over a thousand years in the past!
I was deeply disheartened that my expulsion of the treacherous Shorrosh and my destruction of the Gate to the homeworld of the Aliz should still be regarded by Alizon’s current inhabitants as a betrayal of such magnitude that they dated their very calendar from that event. Still, I had been aware of the cruel flaws in the nature of the very first transferees from Aliz. I could not be truly surprised—although I was filled with regret—that the descendants of the folk I had originally rescued should have preserved, and even apparently intensified the deplorable qualities that so marred the character of their foresires. On the other hand, I was distinctly gratified that I could detect no taint of the Dark in Kasarian. Indeed, ironically, because of their burning sense of betrayal by Shorrosh and me, the Alizonders had denounced and rejected magic with such single-minded ferocity that their culture ever since, for all its appalling faults, bore no trace of influence by the Dark . . . until . . . until now!
With increasing dismay, I concentrated upon the nascent threat posed by Baron Gurborian’s schemes to seek alliance with surviving forces of the Dark yet active in Escore. I viewed the physical duel in which Gurborian had fittingly received his death wound from his own poisoned blade. I saw how Kasarian had recovered my jewel from Gurborian’s body, and had then carried Mereth through my private postern to Lormt, where awaited a group of scholars, champions of the Light, anxious to thwart any attack by Escore upon the lands to the south of Alizon.
I surveyed Kasarian’s knowledge and opinions of each of his companions at Lormt; theirs was an uneasy relationship forged by the necessity to defend against a common enemy. To my great sorrow, I learned of the war waged by Alizon against the Dales. Kasarian, while not of an age to have taken part in the failed invasion, still considered Alizon to be at enmity with both the Dales-folk and the descendants of those devoted to the Light who had fled from Escore and now called themselves Estcarpians.
There can be no deception in direct mind touch. I was instantly aware of Kasarian’s tumultuous feelings toward me—how he was both fearful of and repelled by my magical Power, yet at the same time, he cherished some hope that I might reward him for freeing me. He recoiled from the possibility that I might return to Alizon and seize total control there, but he also entertained the speculation that I might conceivably aid his Lormt faction in devising a plan to prevent any survivors adhering to Gurborian’s faction from allying with Escore’s Dark Adepts.
I ranged through the brief span of Kasarian’s life experiences, tapping his memories of his father—murdered, I learned, by Gurborian. Kasarian’s lineage extended back directly to Krevonel, the son I had never seen, borne by my beloved Kylaina so many centuries ago. Through all the intervening generations, echoes of her singular beauty had been preserved—I glimpsed her again in the color of Kasarian’s eyes, and in the grace of his carriage.
I longed to stay in this new time, so far removed from the age I had known, and yet similarly menaced by the deadly blight of the Dark. Even as that desire swelled within me, I knew I dared delay no longer. From the core of my being surged a sense of overpowering necessity to hasten toward that unknown Gate beyond which the remaining fragment of me languished in aching incompleteness.
As Kasarian’s mind had lain open before me, so would my thoughts during this linkage become accessible to him upon later reflection. There could be no secrets between us. I knew that I must work quickly, before my strength ebbed. Using my jewel’s energy, I dissolved our linkage gently, so that Kasarian would suffer no lasting ill effects.
CHAPTER 31
Kasarian–events at Narvok’s abandoned lair (25th Day, Moon of Chordosh) & subsequently at Lormt (1st Day, Moon of the Spotted Viper/2nd Day, Month of the Fringed Violet)
Never before had I experienced such complete mental submersion. The disorientation and sensory deprivation associated with travel through Elsenar’s postern had been violently debilitating. When my consciousness was captivated by Elsenar’s jewel, however, the impressions I received were curiously pleasant. What seemed to be my initial absorption into an all-enveloping blueness gradually altered as a shimmering cascade of colors rippled around me, mingled with echoing musical tones like none I had ever heard. I was also aware of fragrances sweeter than the scent of our bloodwine bushes in bloom, or even the stupefying perfume of the stranglevine’s flower. Yet I knew that I was not seeing with my eyes, hearing with my ears, or smelling with my nose; I could not truly claim awareness of any physical body at all. This bodilessness would have been terrifying except that the serene beauty of that peculiar space totally dispelled all apprehensions. For a timeless interval, I was immersed in soothing warmth.
Quite suddenly, the sounds and scents ceased, and the warmth drained away, to be replaced by a bracing coolness amid an encompassing blueness, as if I had plunged into the deep waters of a mountain pool. My hands tingled from the chill . . . hands! I was abruptly aware of my normal bodily sensations. My vision returned, disclosing the bare stone chamber still illuminated by Elsenar’s glowing jewel.
Elsenar’s ghostly figure loomed almost within arm’s reach. His face was drawn, and his transparent features rippled in and out of focus, like pebbles perceived beneath the surface of a rushing stream.
His voice resounded in my mind. “So many great events have occurred since I was stranded in this place. Once again, the menace of the Dark threatens to erupt from its fastnesses in Escore. If I could, I would hasten to aid the Forces of the Light—but unless I unite with the banished fragment of myself, I shall surely perish. You also are needed to assist in the struggle to preserve Lormt and Alizon. I adjure you to be wise in the use of my postern between Alizon City and Lormt; I have no time or energy to alter its stricture against any not of our blood. My other postern spell which I set so long ago between this place and Lormt can be activated for one final passage. I shall alert Jonja the Wise Woman of your impending arrival. Doubtless by now, the lodge where I conjured that spell has been reduced to dust, but she will know by her arts when and where you have emerged. I shall dispatch you first, and dissolve that postern behind you. I must then seek to restore my separated self. Even if I should succeed, it may not be possible for me to return to Lormt from that unknowably far place, so your companions must not expect my further aid. Now
must I take my leave of you, Kasarian, blood of my blood. I see through you the distant face of my beloved Kylaina. May you and your companions triumph in your vital endeavor! Stand always with the Light!’
Elsenar’s jewel, which had been floating motionless between us, drifted toward him. He raised his insubstantial hands as if to clasp it. The jewel blazed brighter than the sun, blinding me. I threw up my hands to shield my eyes, but before I could complete the gesture, my entire body was snatched into the howling chaos of postern transit.
I was simultaneously dazzled and jostled by my emergence, half-stunned, onto the dew-soaked grass of a mountain meadow. I lay still for some time, slipping into and out of consciousness. The sun was sinking behind the tallest peaks when I heard horses approaching. I managed to raise myself to a sitting position. Duratan rode ahead, followed by the Wise Woman, who was leading a riderless third horse. Upon sighting me, they dismounted, hastening to my side.
The Wise Woman offered me a flask of spiced wine, but after taking a mouthful, I had to refuse more. My body was still deplorably weakened by the postern’s disruption. I was not at all certain that I could remain upright in the saddle. Fortunately, Duratan recognized my infirmity, and put me up in front of him on his horse where he could steady me.
I did not later recall any of the return ride to Lormt. When we clattered into the vast courtyard, I roused to glimpse the face of Lormt’s provisioner, still talking as if he had not yet finished his last speech to me. As I slid down from the saddle into his arms, darkness claimed me.
I awoke, they told me, the following day, which the Lormt folk termed the Second Day of the Month of the Fringed Violet, the last Moon of their Spring Season. I was taken aback. Morfew assured me that it was indeed the First Day of the Moon of the Spotted Viper, the second of our three Moons of the Spring Season. I had been absent from Lormt for almost three Moons.
Before I could ask how the Lormt folk had fared, the Wise Woman entered my bedchamber, bearing a heavily laden tray. Morfew remarked that he had favorably influenced her choice of food for me. The Wise Woman grimaced at him, exhorted me to eat, and left us alone together. I welcomed the succulent slices of roast boar, which Morfew said that Duratan had provided. I complimented the fare, and inquired whether Duratan employed any local breed of hound in his hunting.
Morfew laughed outright. “Few of us here at Lormt are of an age or possess the agility to hunt,” he explained. “We acquire most of our game and the food we cannot grow for ourselves by trading with nearby crofters. This particular beast intruded into one of our walled gardens, where he was dining upon our root crops when Duratan cornered him and ended his depredations with a spear thrust. Not so exciting as a horseback chase with our hounds, perhaps, but the reward is equally tasty.”
I could now accept the spiced wine I had previously rejected. As I poured a second measure, I asked, “How fares the Lady Mereth?”
“I rejoice to tell you that her injuries seem to be mending,” Morfew answered. “Master Wessell has contrived the most ingenious wheeled chair in which she can be pushed about, making it easier for her to assist us with the document reading. When you feel fully restored, Mereth awaits your report in my chambers, together with Ouen and the others. I must confess that our curiosity has been difficult to contain.”
Shortly afterward, having eaten sufficiently, I was gratified to discover that my own clothing had been neatly folded atop the chest at the foot of my bed. As soon as I had dressed, I followed Morfew through Lormt’s confusing passages to his study room.
It took me some time to relate my experiences. The Lormt folk were keenly disappointed that Elsenar—and his jewel—could not be relied upon to assist them in averting the threat from Escore.
I did not express my private relief at Elsenar’s departure. His presence could not fail to be a critical danger to Alizon, no matter how well-intended his actions might be. The traditions and convictions of a thousand years could not be dismissed or swept away overnight. No Alizonder—most certainly no baron!—could view Elsenar’s return with anything less than stark horror. Unless Elsenar bound us all in magical thralldom, Alizon would be convulsed with violent reaction. For the sake of Alizon’s continued existence, it was necessary that Elsenar remain a frightful figure safely rooted in our distant past.
I was also personally relieved that Elsenar’s awful jewel had departed along with him. No man should be capable of meddling in another’s mind. And yet . . . I could almost hope that Elsenar had succeeded in locating and reuniting with his missing half-self, so long as he did not come back to trouble us in Alizon.
Ouen raised his hand to forestall the continued pointless discussion about Elsenar’s utter withdrawal. “We must develop our own offensive and defensive plans without any reliance upon Elsenar’s aid,” he asserted. “I had hoped that he might greatly augment our resources, but we must accept Elsenar’s warning that he is unlikely to return to Lormt.”
“In that regard,” said Morfew stoutly, “our situation is no worse than it was before we dispatched Kasarian to the Dales. During all this elapsed time, Jonja’s and Duratan’s foreseeings have not revealed any overt moves by the Dark mages. We have detected no further alarms from Alizon. Surely Gurborian’s faction remains in disarray, attempting to recover from his unexplained disappearance.”
“I must return to Krevonel Castle as soon as possible,” I declared. “It is vital that I learn how matters stand in Alizon City. Gurborian and Gratch have been eliminated, but others in their faction may have assumed their places, and continued to pursue the fatal linkage with Escore. I may be able to rally the elder barons—beginning with the authentic Volorian—to oppose both the pro-Kolder remnant and whatever persists of the pro-Escorian faction.”
Morfew peered at me. “I am concerned about your safety,” he said. “Will it be prudent for you to go back now? Even though your prolonged absence has been justified by your supposed survey of your far estates, will not your enemies have remarked upon the violent events at Krevonel Castle preceding your departure?”
I could not suppress a smile. “What violent events at Krevonel Castle?” I inquired. “I assure you that no word will have been uttered by my staff regarding the affairs of that night. There were, you recall, no other surviving witnesses.”
Duratan nodded grudgingly. “But won’t Gurborian’s faction still suspect that you were somehow involved in his and Gratch’s disappearance?” he asked.
“To suspect is one thing,” I countered. “To prove a suspicion can be considerably more difficult. Unless Gratch uncharacteristically betrayed his master’s confidence, none of Reptur’s pack can know what befell Gurborian’s missing party. Bodrik will inform me of any whispers that may have circulated. I readily confess my own unanswered question: what fortune have you experienced in your search for documents anent Escore while I have been away from Lormt?”
Duratan’s mate waved at a table piled with scrolls, books, and loose scraps of parchment. “We have found many references to the great clashes in Escore before our ancestors fled into Estcarp,” she replied, then shook her head in obvious frustration. “So much of it is fragmentary, and some is obscure and unreadable. There seems to be no end to the uncovering of new stores of material which we have yet to examine.”
“I never thought to behold such insights into the far past,” Morfew exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “It would be more helpful,” he conceded, “if the bits and pieces fitted together more coherently, but we press ahead slowly.”
I saluted them. “The information you assemble may provide the key that enables us to triumph,” I said. “I pray you to persist in your work, and to share with me any facts that may further my endeavors in Alizon.”
“The only way we could communicate with you in Alizon is by postern transit,” the Wise Woman objected. “Since the postern is restricted to only those of Elsenar’s blood, our sole potential messenger is Mereth, and she will be in no condition to undertake such travel for so
me time to come.” She waved one hand fretfully, and exclaimed, “If we could simply cast a message packet through the portal—but one of Elsenar’s kin bearing your Krevonel key is required to make the passage!”
“Just as I am, in your terms, Volorian’s nephew,” I observed, “so do I also possess similar useful pups in my pack. They would be told merely that they were to deliver a message; a solid mask over the face would blind their eyes from seeing to whom the message roll was handed. Pack loyalty would keep their tongues still—that, and a prudent awareness of their personal vulnerability.”
Morfew sighed. “It is a sorrowful practice to rule the young by force and fear,” he said.
I could but stare at him in disbelief. “The Law of the Pack is best for all,” I contended. “The strong become stronger, and the weak are removed before they can breed more weakness.”
“So long as none is harmed by your arrangements,” Ouen said firmly. “As you rightly say, it is imperative that we keep our location at Lormt a secret. You have been given sufficient reasons to trust us, Kasarian, but your fellow barons would not likely approve or embrace your alliance with us, their perceived mortal enemies.”
“It has ever been the Alizonian way to seek advantage wherever it is to be found,” I replied, “and to break agreements when better opportunities arise. Still, I have learned that your ways also have unexpected value. You rely upon an oath without fear of subsequent betrayal. That is a different way from ours, but it seems to have afforded you a certain . . . stability that we lack in Alizon. Considering the degree of danger that presses upon us from the east, I believe it may be necessary for each of us to alter some of our ways if we are to survive.”
