Book Read Free

King's Blades 03 - Sky of Swords

Page 10

by Dave Duncan


  skillful cook, although anything would have tasted good

  after prison fare. The cabin was crowded; she had

  moved to the chair and left the benches for Burningstar

  and the four men.

  Winter's fingernails had grown in and his chin had

  sprouted a whimsical little beard, so being an

  ex-Blade must agree with him. He beamed when

  asked about Dian. "Safe in Ness Royal,

  Your Grace. The gatehouse is unmanned and

  there is not even a seneschal just now." He grinned

  bashfully. "She is counting the days until

  Ninthmoon!"

  "Congratulations! I am sure Dian will be a

  wonderful mother. That is wonderful news." It was

  terrible, horrible news. It was going to make things

  much harder. "Sir Jongleur? Considering my

  intemperate language to you the first time we met,

  I am doubly in your debt for your gallant

  service tonight."

  "Your remonstrance on that occasion was well

  deserved, Your Majesty. I am glad to have had

  the chance to redeem myself." Jongleur's beard

  seemed grayer than she remembered, and his left

  arm was in a sling, but he was as pompous as ever.

  "You do recall the subject of our discussion

  upon that occasion?"

  "The query posed in your letter?" he said

  cautiously. "Yes, of course."

  "Six months in the Bastion have provided me

  with unlimited time to think over what you said then."

  He paused a moment as if to plan his words.

  "I shall never again make the mistake of

  underestimating Your Grace's learning in the spiritual

  arts."

  "I am only an amateur, but perhaps my

  lack of formal training allows me to see paths that

  have never been adequately mapped. And in my

  dungeon, I was free to let my mind roam,

  if you understand that expression."

  He nodded warily. "Of course."

  "A certain inquisitor once revealed to me

  that the Dark Chamber obtains prophecies, which it

  refers to as readings, by a sort of inverted

  necromancy. It summons the spirits of the dead from

  the future instead of the past."

  "That is a gross simplification of ... Your

  Grace has stated a very generalized

  view of a very complex process, which rarely works as

  well in practice as it does in theory. Few

  authorities would place as much faith in the

  procedure as the Office of General Inquiry

  seems to."

  "But the point I wish to make is that spirits,

  unlike material objects, can be in two

  places at once! Minds can roam! Don't

  you agree? Please do not digress into the distinction

  between spirit and mind."

  "We can agree that both may wander freely in

  space and time, certainly."

  "So why is the translation Dog wanted not

  possible?" Alas, Dog's spirit was gone,

  disassembled, returned to the elements.

  Jongleur seemed as genuinely puzzled as the

  others were. "You are talking now only of the mind

  going back to a specific date and time in the

  past, not a corporeal body?"

  "A mind--a word--an idea." Malinda

  resisted the temptation to grab the man's broken

  wrist and twist. The ship was winding and turning as it

  edged its way down the river, but Captain Klerk

  was probably having much less trouble than she was

  trying to extract a straight answer from this

  pompous oaf. "Do go on, Sir Jongleur."

  "The hypothesis would seem to have some theoretical

  merit, but I still believe that such a conjuration is

  impossible in practice."

  "Why?"

  Jongleur stared very hard at her for a moment.

  "You are still speaking of the dead boy, Your

  Majesty? You are not contemplating essaying this for

  yourself?"

  "Just list the difficulties."

  "There is a saying, my lady, that a little knowledge is

  a dangerous thing."

  "I could hardly have any less knowledge than I have

  managed to drag out of you so far. Are you loyal

  to me or the Usurper?"

  Jongleur's plump face turned very red.

  "I am Your Majesty's man."

  "Then answer my questions. Is what Sir Dog

  wanted possible or not?"

  Audley looked completely lost. Winter was

  frowning, hanging on every word. Burningstar was

  probably keeping up also, for although the White

  Sisters' knowledge of enchantment was more empirical and

  empathic than theoretical, the former Mother

  Superior was a very bright lady.

  "Even if it were," Jongleur protested,

  "it would be futile. When the subject went back

  in time, he would be faced with the same situation he

  had met before, so he would act in the same way as

  before, and nothing would change. Unless, of course,

  he was possessed of the experience and memories he

  had gained in the future. Since he has not yet

  lived that future, that cannot be. You create a

  logical circularity, and the Prohibitions of

  Veriano still apply."

  Malinda said, "Are you familiar with

  Hoffman's Uncertainty Principle?" She

  saw Winter jump and raised an eyebrow

  to invite him into the conversation. "You are?"

  ""Chance is elemental," my lady?"

  "Meaning?"

  He put a finger to his mouth and hastily

  removed it. "It's why no conjuration works

  perfectly every time. The Destroyer General

  doesn't always hit the target. Ironhall

  bindings can kill."

  "But in this case, the uncertainty is an

  advantage. Right, Sir Jongleur?"

  Hating to admit anything, he muttered,

  "Possibly ... You imply that translation

  might not be instantaneous. True, there could be a

  slight overlap, a few seconds or minutes

  when the subject should be regarded as existing in both

  times. If so, he would carry a transitory

  memory of the future and of his reasons for making the

  translation. Do I correctly comprehend Your

  Grace's hypothesis?"

  "Those few moments might be enough for his

  purpose."

  "Perhaps so," the conjurer agreed, adding with a sour

  hint of triumph, "however--with all due

  respect, Your Majesty--the same uncertainty

  must apply to the overall translation, and on a

  larger scale. Even if we could invoke time

  elementals to carry us back, we cannot hope to aim

  them like crossbows. The boy would have had to revisit

  one exact instant in his past, because an hour too

  late or too early would make the exercise

  futile. Going back many years, as he wished,

  might introduce an error of weeks. Chance

  wins again. He presented an intriguing problem,

  but not one with any practical applications."

  "That is the only objection you can raise?"

  "It is enough, my lady."

  Winter had turned as white as snow.

  He had seen the next step in the path.

  "You have a suggestion?" she asked.

/>   He gulped. "Necromancy?"

  Sir Jongleur sat bolt upright,

  Burningstar muttered, "Oh, no!" and everyone

  stared in horror.

  "The moment of death," Malinda said. "The

  deaths of many men occurring very close together. Instead

  of invoking elementals to send you back, Sir

  Jongleur, consider invoking compound spirits, the souls

  of the dead, to pull you back to that climactic

  moment. And, yes, you could trust their aid in this

  instance, because what you want for them is what they

  want--a chance to live again!"

  Pompous or not, Jongleur must be clever to have

  won admittance to the College after a career as a

  swordsman. His eyes glazed as he weighed the

  possibilities. "You mean Wetshore, of

  course ... But the risk, Your Grace!

  Invocation of the dead is the only conjuration I know

  where the enchanters stand outside the octogram. For

  what you propose, the--subject? the traveler?

  --would have to be inside with the reassembled souls.

  The danger of death or madness ..."

  "I am on intimate terms with danger. What

  other objections can you raise?"

  "One spirit likely would not be enough ... as you infer,

  you would have to invoke several, but those men did not all

  die at the same instant. You might be

  scattered. ... Then there is the problem of a key,

  or bait, as it is vulgarly called. Some

  object the soul can recognize and crystallize

  around, something long familiar to--"

  "Their swords?" Winter wailed. "It would have

  to be their swords. But Ironhall was sacked,

  Your Grace! All the swords are gone."

  "I doubt if the swords of the Wetshore dead

  were ever hung in the sky of swords. Sir

  Lothaire will know. Assuming we can find them,

  would it work? I never loved my father, but he was

  a strong and capable ruler. Chivial has suffered

  greatly since he died and seems doomed to suffer

  more. If--and this is what I need to know--if the

  souls of the lost Blades can call me back ...

  all I need is a minute! Just one minute!

  If I can be returned to the moment when I left

  the longship and walked along the jetty; if instead

  I can run along the jetty shouting a warning to the

  Guard ... Surely if I just cry,

  "Crossbow!" to them they will bury my

  father under a mountain of flesh and Radgar will lose that

  easy shot. All our troubles come from my father's

  death. One word of warning--"

  She had grown too emphatic.

  "More soup, Your Majesty?" Burningstar said,

  reaching for the jug. "This is a fascinating concept you

  spring on us. Don't you agree, Sir

  Wasp?"

  Winter and Jongleur were staring hard at each

  other. Then the older man turned again to Malinda,

  but now he spoke without patronizing.

  "It is a terrifying concept! I need to think

  about this."

  She found no satisfaction in being right, having

  had so long to work it out. "Time may be something we do

  not have! Lambskin--or Smaile or whatever his

  name is now--will be searching for me already. If his

  spies and arts gain him one whisper of what we

  plan, then he can block us utterly." Every day

  they delayed was one more day when Dog was dead. "The

  answer lies at Ironhall. When Seahorse

  has cleared the river, Sir Wasp, pray set

  course for Ironhall."

  Into the frigid silence stepped Countess

  Burningstar. "Your Grace, you have just emerged from a

  terrible ordeal. A few days' rest to regain your

  strength will--"

  "No!"

  "Sir Lothaire is in grave need of an

  elementary," Audley said. "We did bring

  conjured bandages, but he is still in great pain. And

  we have funerals to arrange."

  "No!"

  "Your Majesty," Jongleur protested, "you

  are proposing a major innovation in conjuration. I

  would expect to take months to finalize the

  invocations and revocations required, and many

  trials before it would work."

  "You can have all night. Get to work."

  Worried glances were passed around. Sir

  Wasp tried next.

  "We lack adequate supplies for that

  voyage, even if we do not expect to return.

  Furthermore, although Seahorse is very

  close-winded, we should have to tack off an unknown

  coast, lacking both charts and pilot."

  "Stop making excuses!"

  Winter said, "If Lambskin has spirits

  seeking you, then you must not head for Ironhall. A

  day or two in Thergy will put him off the

  scent."

  Malinda turned away from the look of horror

  on his face and felt her resolution deflate like

  a pricked bubble. "I suppose I am being

  hasty. To Drachveld then, Sir Wasp, if you

  please."

  I just wish his wife wasn't quite so crazy about

  seahorses.

  RADGAR AELEDING

  Drachveld, the capital of Thergy, was laid

  out on a perfectly flat surface with the

  precision of a formal table setting. Seahorse

  sailed right through the city on a busy canal and

  continued a mile or so inland, to Sir Wasp's

  desirable waterfront residence; there she tied

  up at the edge of the rose garden. His house was

  smaller than a royal palace but few dukes

  would have spurned it. The designers' flair was

  evident everywhere from the water lilies by the dock

  to golden cupolas on the roof--wealth and good

  taste in perfect unison. Even a queen could be

  impressed, and an escaped prisoner who had

  spent half a year in jail was overwhelmed. Had

  she been compelled to find fault, Malinda would

  most likely have criticized an excessive

  use of seahorses as a motif. The gateposts

  were marble seahorses of more than human height;

  lesser seahorses appeared on china, towels, and

  cushions; in mosaic, fresco, and tapestry;

  as doorknobs and bedposts.

  Lady Wasp, who greeted her guests at the

  front door, combined the beauty of a porcelain

  figurine with the sparkle of diamonds. Her

  earrings were jade seahorses.

  Sir Lothaire and the other wounded were rushed to an

  elementary for healing. The other Blades set to the

  sad task of acquiring lumber and building a

  funeral pyre for the dead. Burningstar made

  repeated attempts to tuck Malinda into bed, but

  Malinda refused to be tucked. She greeted

  other members of the Queen's Men--Fox,

  Jarvis, and several she knew less well.

  Informed that certain other exiles driven from

  Chivial by the Usurper dwelt in the city, she

  insisted on summoning them. She tried

  to help with the funeral preparations or at least

  assist Sir Jongleur with the incantations he was

  outlining. By the time she had been persuaded that her

  help was actually a hindrance, the pyres were

  ready, the wounded
had returned healed, and the

  funeral could proceed. They let her light the

  balefire.

  It took several hours to burn out, but she

  stood watch there with the swordsmen. Many of them

  wept, but she shed not a single tear. She could not

  regard Dog's death as permanent--she was

  resolved to go to Ironhall and revise the course

  of events. He would live again; they would all

  live again. When at last the evening shadows

  lengthened, Burningstar managed to drag her

  indoors and feed her. She still refused to go

  upstairs, or even sit down for more than a few

  moments at a time. She wanted to talk

  politics with Winter, inspect the conjurers' work,

  see to the outfitting of Seahorse--anything at

  all except rest.

  It was then that Queen Regent Martha arrived,

  coming incognito and without ceremony. The two

  queens were left alone to talk and Malinda found

  herself talking--as she never had before, even to Dian

  --about the man she had loved and had now lost. The

  storm broke. She fell into Martha's arms and

  wept inconsolably until the recently widowed

  queen joined and wept with her.

  She barely remembered being led upstairs and

  put to bed.

  It was about noon the next day when she met with

  her council-in-exile: Burningstar, Audley,

  Wasp, Jongleur, and Lothaire, who was now

  healed but obviously still shaky. They were all

  grim-faced. Yes, the conjurers admitted, what

  she proposed seemed possible.

  "The risks of outright failure," Sir

  Lothaire put in, "are less than the risks

  of disaster--death or madness. With respect, my

  lady, you would be utterly crazy to stand within that

  octogram."

  "If I am already crazy, that halves the

  risk." Dog had gone into danger to rescue her;

  could she do less for him?

  Jongleur had been up all night and was having

  trouble smothering yawns. "But we must have the swords

  and we don't know where they went."

  "I am sure they were returned

  to Ironhall," Lothaire said. "The law

  required that. I don't remember them being

  mentioned. What happened to them would be up to Grand

  Master. He was hanged a month ago, so we

  can't ask him. Master of Rituals or Master

  Armorer would know, but where they are ..." He

  shrugged. "Seventy swords? Even if they

  hung them in the sky without a ceremony, I'm

  sure I would have noticed. Most likely they were

  taken to the Forge and disassembled, blades and

 

‹ Prev