Black Jade. David Zindell

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СКАЧАТЬ My aim, the next time, must be true. I would plunge the star-tempered point straight through his heart. Atara had once prophesied that if I killed Morjin, I would kill myself. So, just so, as Kane would say.

      ‘Damn him!’ I whispered as I pointed my sword toward Argattha. ‘Damn him! Damn him! Damn him!’

      I would cut off Morjin’s head and mount it on a pike for all to behold. I would hack his body into pieces and pour pitch upon them and set them on fire. I would feel the heat of the flames upon my face, burning, burning, burning …

      ‘Valashu!’ Master Juwain, Liljana and Atara cried out as one.

      When my vision suddenly cleared, I gasped to see that my silver sword seemed to have caught fire. Blue flames clung to the silustria along its whole length like a hellish garment, while longer orange and red ones twisted and leaped and blazed with a searing heat. So violent was this fire that I dropped my sword upon the ground. The grass there was too green to easily ignite, but Liljana and Daj hastened to douse it with water even so. We all watched with amazement as the flames raced up and down my sword’s blade, cooled, faded and then finally died.

      ‘Oh, my Lord!’ Maram called out. ‘Oh, my Lord!’

      ‘I didn’t know your sword could burn like that!’ Daj said to me.

      ‘Neither did I,’ Master Juwain told me.

      And neither did I. Even Kane, who had once been Kalkin, the great Elijin lord who had forged this sword with his own two hands and all the art of the angels, stared at it mysteriously. His black eyes seemed as cold as the space between the stars. He held himself utterly still.

      ‘Like hell, that was,’ he finally said. He turned to stare at me.

      ‘Like hate, it was,’ Master Juwain said to me. Again he pushed his palm toward my cast-down sword. ‘Surely its fire came out of that which consumes you.’

      Daj, who was bright beyond his years, studied my sword and asked, ‘Did it? Or did it burn because Lord Morjin is gaining control of the Lightstone?’

      Liljana patted his head at his perceptiveness, then looked at me as she said, ‘In the end, of course, it might be the same question.’

      ‘Whatever the answer,’ Master Juwain said to me, ‘it is certain that the Lord of Lies is learning the Lightstone’s secrets. Your hate will not deter him. Put your sword away.’

      I leaned forward to wrap my fingers around Alkaladur’s hilt. The black jade was as cool as grass. But the blade’s silustria still emanated a faint heat, like a paving stone after a long summer day.

      ‘Surely this is damned,’ I said as I lifted up my sword. ‘As I am damned.’

      Liljana slapped her hand into her palm, then shook her head violently as she waggled her finger at me. ‘Don’t you ever say that!’

      She edged past Daj and Estrella and knelt before me, and she laid her hand on top of mine. Her voice grew soft and gentle as she told me, ‘You are not damned! You, of all people. And you, of all people, must never think that of yourself.’

      I smiled at her kindness, but she did not smile back. I let go of Alkaladur for a moment to squeeze her hand. And then I grasped yet again the sword that would carve my fate.

      ‘Morjin is poisoning the gelstei,’ I said. ‘Or trying to.’

      Once, I remembered, in a wood near my home, Morjin’s priest named Igasho had shot at me an arrow tipped with kirax. The poison had found its way into my blood, where it would always work its dark enchantment. I wondered if this evil substance that connected me to Morjin was slowly killing me after all. As I fiercely gripped my sword, I felt the kirax burning my stomach, liver and lungs with every breath, and stabbing like red-hot needles through my eyes and brain.

      ‘Damn him!’ I said again, shaking my sword at the heavens.

      In the west, clouds were moving in, blocking out the stars. Lightning rent the sky there, and thunder shook the earth. Far out on the steppe, wolves howled their strange and mournful cries. There, too, our enemy’s campfires burned on and on through the night.

      ‘And damn them, too!’ I said, stabbing my sword at the Red Knights who followed us.

      I watched with dread as my silver sword again burst into flame. And then something dark and dreadful as a dragon burned through my hand, arm and chest, straight into my heart.

      ‘He is here!’ I cried out as I sprang up to my feet.

      ‘Who is here?’ Master Juwain asked me. Now he stood up, too, and came over to me, and so did the others.

      ‘Morjin is – he rides with the Red Knights!’ I said.

      ‘Morjin, here?’ Kane shouted. His eyes flared like fire-arrows out toward the steppe. ‘Impossible!’

      Atara stood by my side, but well away from my burning blade. She put her hand on my shoulder to gentle me, and she said, ‘Your sword shone much as it ever did when you pointed it toward Argattha, and so the Lightstone must still be there. And so, as you have said yourself, must Morjin.’

      ‘No, he is here, a mile away across the grass!’

      ‘Atara is right,’ Master Juwain said to me. He rested his hand on my other shoulder. ‘Think, Val: the Dragon would never leave the Lightstone out of his clutches, even for moment, not even to ride after you.’

      ‘And if he did hunt you,’ Atara added, ‘he would have come out of Argattha at the head of his whole army, and not leading a couple of dozen knights.’

      As lightning lit the mountains and fire sheathed my sword, my friends tried to reason with me. I could hardly listen. For I felt Morjn’s presence too near me. The flames of his being writhed and twisted as they ever did, in shoots of madder, puce and incarnadine, and other colors that recalled his tormented soul.

      ‘I know it is he!’ I said, to Atara and my other friends.

      Then Liljana moved closer and told me, ‘Your gift betrays you. As mine betrayed me.’

      All my life, it seemed, I had felt others’ passions, hurts and joys as my own. Kane called this gift the valarda: two hearts beating as one and lit from within as with the fire of a star. He had also said it was impossible that Morjin should be here, in our enemy’s encampment scarcely two thousand yards away. But it seemed impossible that the malice, decay and spite I felt emanating from that direction could have its source in any man except Morjin.

      ‘Do you remember Argattha?’ I said to Liljana. ‘There Morjin soaked his skin with the essence of roses to cover the smell of his rotting flesh. But he could not cover the stench of his soul. I … smell it here.’

      Liljana pointed at my sword, at the flames that still swirled up and down its length. And she said to me, ‘Is that really what you smell?’

      I noticed that Flick, spinning like a top in the air beyond my reach, seemed to be keeping his distance from me.

      Liljana brushed past Master Juwain, and laid her hand over the steel rings that encased my chest. And she said, ‘I think you hate Morjin so much that you always sense СКАЧАТЬ