Ironcrown Moon: Part Two of the Boreal Moon Tale. Julian May

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СКАЧАТЬ Zeth,’ Sulkorig muttered. ‘May heaven grant him mercy.’

      Snudge suspected there was scant chance of that.

      ‘Sir Deveron!’ The armiger Valdos called out from somewhere inside the ruined apartment. ‘You must come in here and see this! But beware. Some of the roof beams are sagging and may collapse at any minute.’

      Snudge entered, trailed by the Keeper. Fallen timbers lay everywhere in precarious tangles, some still smoldering in spite of the continuing downpour. Blackened and broken containers of ceramic or glass had survived, but all of the furnishings were ashes, and the beautiful hardwood floor that he remembered from his clandestine invasion of Kilian’s quarters four years earlier was entirely burned away, leaving the same flagstone underpavement that was visible in the library.

      Valdos stood just inside the doorframe of what had been the Royal Alchymist’s bedroom. The rear wall, made of closely fitted granite blocks, bore an irregular stain of yellowish-white at least five feet in diameter, surrounded by a halo of soot.

      ‘I believe that the second explosion involved two bombshells, set off simultaneously,’ Vra-Sulkorig noted. ‘In my early life I was a soldier, and I’ve seen such things before. Perhaps the fire-raisers had intended to blast open the door to Lord Stergos’s apartment. When they found it unlocked, they used both bombs inside.’

      But Snudge’s attention was elsewhere.

      In the middle of this room, where the bed had once stood, was a square area of newly exposed floor that measured some three ells by four. Instead of stone, it was covered over with rusted iron plates that were bulging and distorted by heat. At one end, a pair of plates on hinges had dropped open like trapdoors, revealing a hole partially clogged by debris from the fire. Stone steps led down from the bedroom level into a kind of cellar…or crypt.

      ‘Codders!’ Snudge whispered.

      He crossed the room with the greatest care, squatted gingerly, and peered into the opening. The underground chamber was about three ells deep and awash at the bottom with water in which floated bits of burned material. At the far end were two sizable objects of roughly hewn stone with heavy lids. They looked like tombs. In front of them stood a warped iron framework like a skeletal cabinet or chest that still held a few slabs of charred wood.

      The iron thing had a tantalizing familiarity.

      Then he knew what he must be seeing. Using his pike as a staff, he descended the steps into the crypt.

      

      ‘It was the remains of Kilian’s small oaken storage cabinet, sire. The one I had discovered in his sanctum, bound with iron bands and fitted with the peculiar lock that almost defeated my attempt to pick it. Its doors or what was left of them – were wide open.’ He reached into his belt-wallet and placed a discolored metal mechanism on the king’s desk. ‘I found this in the dirty water down around the tombs. But there was no trace of the sigils that had been stored in that cabinet – more than a hundred of them – nor the small moonstone medallions that were fastened to the covers of the two large books that I left behind with the sigils.’

      Conrig took up the lock and turned it slowly in his hands. ‘Someone knew how to work it,’ Snudge said. ‘It’s undamaged. And open.’

      The draperies of the study windows were drawn against the grey twilight and the wrenching sight of the ruined library and cloister wing across the quadrangle gardens. It was around the tenth hour after noon and still raining steadily, although the thunder and lightning had passed.

      ‘So now we are certain,’ the king said. ‘The trove is gone. Stolen.’

      ‘I fear so, sire. I learned some time ago that the two ancient books were transcribed in the Salkan language. Like the smaller one that I took away, they contained pictures of different sigils. I can only presume that the books held expanded descriptions of their varied uses, along with spells of activation.’

      ‘Including that of your own Concealer sigil that was…lost during the assault on Mallmouth Bridge?’ The Sovereign’s tone was dry.

      ‘I never noticed, sire. Since the larger books were illegible to me, I paid them scant attention. Concealer was certainly depicted in the smaller book, which had much of its content written in an old version of our own tongue. That’s why I stole it. But Concealer’s activating spell, like all others in the little book, was written in Salkan. And I must emphasize that correct pronunciation is absolutely critical for bringing a sigil to life. I was told by Beynor himself that saying the words wrong would anger the Beaconfolk and cause them to kill me. So he pretended to coach me – while actually plotting my death. Lord Stergos and I believe that Kilian also knew the peril of mispronouncing the spells. This was why he formed an alliance with the Crown Prince of Moss and agreed to share the stones, in exchange for Beynor’s expertise in the Salkan language. The Glaumerie Guild knows how to bring sigils to life, and Beynor belongs to the Guild, as do all members of Moss’s Royal Family. Kilian evidently had no suspicion that there might be another, simpler way to activate sigils – merely by touching them to the moonstone disks mounted on the book covers.’

      ‘You never told me that.’ Conrig looked at Snudge narrowly,

      For good reason, Snudge thought. There was more to the brief activation process as well, which he would never divulge to the king. ‘It slipped my mind, sire. And of course I was forced to give the little book to Ansel Pikan shortly after I took it.’

      ‘God only knows what he might have done with it! You and Stergos were both fools not to have kept it safe.’

      Snudge said nothing. The Royal Alchymist would have destroyed both the book and the Concealer if he had been able to. He believed their magic to be inherently evil and corrupting to the user. Belatedly, Snudge had come to the same conclusion. For this reason he had hidden Concealer away after the Battle of Mallmouth Bridge, telling the king it was lost in the fray. He had not attempted to use it since.

      Conrig’s brief flash of anger vanished and he smiled. ‘Ignore my ill temper. I fret about my poor brother. Although the leeches say he’ll recover, he will carry terrible scars.’

      ‘Then his sight was spared? I was afraid –’

      ‘God be thanked, his vision is normal in spite of the burns about his eyes.’ Conrig poured amber malt liquor into his favorite cup, which was silver with a gold-lined bowl and a great amethyst set into the stem as a talisman against poison. ‘Will you drink with me?’

      ‘I thank you, sire.’ Snudge took a crystal goblet from a sideboard and accepted a small amount of the spirits.

      ‘Please be seated,’ Conrig said. Both of them tasted the malt, which was smooth and fiery. ‘I have a mission for you, one that will take you far from Cathra.’ He held up his hand as Snudge attempted to speak. ‘No, it has nothing to do with the pursuit of the thieves, although it may be possible for you to join the hunt for them as you journey north on this other matter. I already have three thousand men searching for the fugitives, and pictures of them provided by Vra-Edzal were transmitted by wind hours ago to every corner of Cathra. By tomorrow, the local adepts will have drawn up numbers of posters with images of the two rogue Brothers and nailed them up in every city and town.’

      Snudge nodded and waited.

      Conrig said, ‘As for this special assignment: there is no other person I can entrust it to, for it involves СКАЧАТЬ