Lord of Lies. David Zindell

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СКАЧАТЬ sitting straight as the mast of a ship, nodded at my father and said, ‘Like it or not, King Kiritan has finessed us. It seems that the conclave will have to be held in Tria, if anywhere.’

      ‘Yes, it does.’

      ‘But the Valari kings will never agree to journey there.’

      ‘No, not as things stand now,’ my father said.

      ‘And there would be great trouble in the Nine Kingdoms if the Lightstone were brought into Tria, as King Kiritan has asked.’

      ‘That is true,’ my father said. ‘Especially if the Lightstone were given into the hands of the blacksmith boy. The Ishkans would make war against us immediately for such a betrayal.’

      I again shifted about as I thought of the young Alonian healer named Joakim. And I heard Asaru say to my father, ‘Count Dario hinted that King Kiritan’s barons are calling for war against us – does this concern you?’

      ‘Do you think it should?’

      ‘That’s hard to say. It seems impossible that the Alonians would march against us across such a distance. Not over a little piece of gold.’

      Although the Lightstone remained on its stand in the great hall, it seemed that its shimmering presence filled the room and added to the soft radiance of its many flickering candles.

      ‘No, you’re right, we need fear no such invasion,’ my father said. ‘But that Count Dario spoke freely of King Kiritan’s problems with his barons – that does concern me.’

      He went on to say that such strife could weaken any kingdom, even Alonia. And with Morjin gathering armies to his bloody red banner, it would not do for any of the Free Kingdoms to fall into disorder – especially Alonia.

      ‘It would seem,’ my father said to Asaru, ‘that strengthening his realm is the real reason that King Kiritan has demanded your “little piece of gold”. It is probably why he called the Quest in the first place.’

      ‘To strengthen Alonia or to strengthen himself?’

      ‘He would think there is no difference,’ my father said.

      My mother, sitting next to him, brushed the long, black hair away from her face as she said, ‘King Kiritan’s offer of his daughter’s hand must be considered in this light. And like it or not, it must be considered.’

      Her voice was as clear and sweet as the music of a flute, and it seemed to carry out straight toward me. As she smiled at me, I couldn’t help remembering how she had taught me to play that most magical of instruments and had sung me songs of Ramsun and Asha, and the other great lovers who had died for each other in ages past.

      ‘It’s said that Atara Ars Narmada is very beautiful,’ my mother told me. ‘With hair as gold as your cup. With eyes as blue as stars.’

      ‘Once they were,’ I said bitterly, squeezing the box that I had set by my side. In barely three heartbeats’ worth of time, Morjin had utterly transformed Atara’s face from one that was open, bright and alive into something other. For now shadows gathered in the dark hollows beneath her brows, and her lips would have frozen the breath of any man who dared try to kiss her.

      It might have been thought that my mother, who was the kindest of women, would have done anything to avoid a topic that caused me so much pain. Compassion, I thought, should be like a soft, warm blanket wrapped around those we love to comfort them, and hers usually was. But sometimes, it was like a steel needle that plunges straight into the heart of a boil to relieve the pressure there. My mother seemed always to know what I needed most.

      ‘You should remember her as she was when you first saw her,’ my mother told me. ‘Don’t you think that is what she would want?’

      ‘Yes … she would,’ I forced out. And then I added, ‘And as she might be again.’

      My mother’s face softened as she searched for something in mine. ‘You’ve never said much about her, you know.’

      ‘What is there to say, then?’

      ‘Well, nothing, really – nothing that your eyes haven’t shouted a hundred times.’

      I turned to wipe at my eyes as I remembered the way that Atara had once looked at me. Not so long ago, in the flash of her smile, in beholding the boldness of her gaze, my eyes must have filled with the light of that faraway star that fed the fire of our souls.

      My mother’s smile reminded me of Atara’s in its promise that she would only ever wish all good things for me. She said to me, ‘You’d never marry another, would you?’

      ‘Never,’ I said, shaking my head.

      She turned to regard my father a moment, and a silent understanding passed between them. My father sighed and said, ‘Then King Kurshan will have to look elsewhere if he wants a match for his daughter.’

      He spoke of this fierce king from Lagash who would sail the stars – after first marrying off his daughter, Chandria. Then Asaru nodded at my father and asked him, ‘Do you wish me to make marriage with her, sir?’

      ‘Possibly,’ my father said to him. ‘Do you think you might ever come to love her?’

      ‘Possibly,’ Asaru said, smiling at him. ‘By the grace of the One.’

      We Valari do not, as a rule, marry for love. But my grandfather had chosen out my grandmother, a simple woodcutter’s daughter, for no other reason. And my father had always said that his love for my mother, and hers for him, was proof of life’s essential goodness. For until the moment of his betrothal to Elianora wi Solaru, daughter of King Talanu of Kaash, my father had never set eyes upon her. And now, thirty years later, his heart still leaped with fire whenever he looked her way.

      ‘Well,’ he said, taking a sip of brandy, ‘we can speak of marriage another time. We have other kings to worry about now.’

      He glanced at Master Juwain and said, ‘There’s an ugly rumor going around that you quarreled with King Waray on your journey to Taron.’

      ‘I’m afraid that is true,’ Master Juwain said. His lumpy face pulled into a frown as he rubbed the back of his bald head. ‘I’m afraid I have bad news: King Waray has closed our school outside Nar.’

      The story that Master Juwain now told, as the logs in the fireplaces burnt down and we all sipped our brandy, was rather long, for Master Juwain strived for completeness in all things. But its essence was this: Master Juwain had indeed gone to Nar to make researches into the horoscope of an ancient Maitreya, as I had discovered earlier that evening. He had also wanted to retrieve relics that the Brothers kept in their collection in the Nar sanctuary. These were thought stones, he said, and therefore lesser gelstei – but still of great value.

      ‘King Waray allowed me to remove a book about the Shining One from the library, as Val will tell,’ Master Juwain said. ‘But he forbade the removal of any thought stone or gelstei.’

      ‘A king’s forbiddance does not make a quarrel,’ my father said.

      ‘No, it does not,’ Master Juwain agreed. ‘But when a certain master of the Brotherhoods СКАЧАТЬ