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

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СКАЧАТЬ your advice, Gossy. Would it be wise for me to once again enlist the Conjure-Queen in the search for Maude? I’m reluctant to do so, since it would give Ulla even more power over me than she has now. I feel I’d be jumping from the hot griddle into the fire-pit.’

      ‘My God, yes. Her ambitions…Con, you know I’ve never trusted the woman.’

      ‘Yes, yes,’ the king said impatiently. ‘Nevertheless, her Loophole probably holds out the best chance of locating Maude and any child she may have had.’

      ‘Perhaps not, if Red Ansel still keeps the Princess Dowager under his protection. But even the most powerful sorcery has limitations. For instance, Maudrayne and her child could not live permanently inside a spell of invisibility woven by Ansel. Such an existence would be insupportable to the healthy human temperament. Furthermore, a high-spirited woman such as Maude would never consent to be immured within some impregnable magical fortress for years upon end.’

      Conrig gave a short mirthless laugh. ‘No, not Maude! She’d take her boy hiking on the tundra and sailing in her yacht on the arctic waters. She’d teach him to ski and to hunt elk and icebears and sea-unicorns. And if she does these things, there are bound to be local people who know about it. In my opinion, she might be sought and found by a clever and talented spy – such as my Royal Intelligencer, Snudge. What do you think, Gossy?’

      Stergos hesitated. ‘If Maude is hiding in Tarn, she would surely be protected by the magic of more than one of the local shamans. Ansel would hardly spend all of his time shielding her. He has other responsibilities. Deveron Austrey would have a special advantage over the lesser northern adepts, since his talent is imperceptible to all but the most powerful. Furthermore, he’s impossible to windwatch, so they would be able to observe him only with ordinary eyesight. But what will you do if Deveron does discover that your former wife is alive, and has a son?’

      ‘That…can be decided later. But I believe there’s only one solution to the problem.’

      ‘For the love of God, Con, tell me you would not –’

      The king cut off his brother’s horrified protest. ‘Say no more! This rumor may prove to be entirely false. We will not discuss the fate of the Princess Dowager now.’

      ‘As you please, sire.’

      Conrig said, ‘I gave Snudge permission to leave Cala Blenholme and visit his new estate following his initiation ceremony. He said he’d ride out at once. You must bespeak him, ordering his return.’

      ‘Very well. I’ll take care of it as soon as we finish here.’ Stergos threw off his vestment hood. ‘We should delay no longer bespeaking the Conjure-Queen.’

      ‘Do it then,’ Conrig said.

      The Royal Alchymist let his head sink into his hands and called out silently on the wind. After a few minutes had passed, he opened his eyes and said, ‘She will make an attempt to Send immediately.’

      They waited, straining their ears, fearing the sound of approaching steps from the room where Risalla lay, but hearing only the distant sounds of music and revelry outside in the gardens. At length Conrig leapt to his feet.

      ‘I can’t stand it any longer. I’m going in there –’

       ‘That won’t be necessary.’

      The sweet woodsy scent of vetiver wafted into the room. A silhouette was standing in front of the tall undraped window, completely enveloped in a deep-green cloak. Ullanoth’s Sending had flashed into existence with no warning. A hand, pale as milk and wearing a ring of carved moonstone on one long, graceful finger, emerged from the folds of cloth and extended itself toward Conrig.

      He hastened to take the hand, brushing the back of it with his lips. He carefully avoided any contact with the ring, which was a powerful sigil named Weathermaker. ‘Gracious Queen, welcome.’

      Ullanoth of Moss unfastened her cloak and handed it to the High King as though he were a simple lackey. Except for the purplish shadows about her eyes, her face was as lovely as ever, framed by shimmering long hair that mimicked the pearly interior of certain seashells. Her gown was the same unadorned green samite as her cape, and her belt was gold, with a hanging purse. Around her neck hung a golden chain with a curiously carved small translucent pendant that glowed in the dim room like wan foxfire – the Great Stone named Sender, the third major sigil that she owned. Its power, invoked only at the cost of terrible pain now that her debt to the Lights was so heavy, enabled Ullanoth to inhabit a magical simulacrum of her natural body, in which her soul might travel anywhere in the world while her true flesh lay senseless. The Sending was no vaporous ghost, but rather a warm and solid replica with a full palette of physical sensation, able to carry from its point of origin all clothing and other accoutrements worn or held by the original. It could not, however, draw sustenance from food or drink at its destination, nor could it carry back any foreign object. And if the Sending remained in existence for more than a few hours, the true body would begin to deteriorate mortally.

      There was another important limitation to the Sending that only the most advanced arcane practitioners were aware of: it could materialize only near a talented person, from whom it drew magical substantiation.

      ‘Then Risalla’s unborn child is free of talent!’ Conrig cried joyously.

      Ullanoth nodded. ‘Yes. Tonight, I’ve used Vra-Stergos as my substantiator. Let us go to your wife now and determine whether the babe is male or female.’

      The three of them went into the room where Risalla lay, but after a few suspenseful moments Ullanoth stepped away from the sleeper’s couch and shook her head. ‘Alas for your hopes, my king! Your wife carries a healthy girl, without arcane talent as all of her sex must be, unless they are of far northern human blood…or doubly descended from the Green Ones.’

      Conrig groaned. ‘If the laws of Didion prevailed here, the lass might reign as their great Queen Casabarela did! But Cathra reserves its crown for male issue, and so must my Sovereignty.’

      ‘Unless the law is changed,’ Stergos put in with a hopeful smile.

      ‘Don’t be a fool, Gossy,’ the king exclaimed. ‘Why should the Lords of the South agree to change it now, when all save we three believe there are two legitimate male heirs to the throne? We can only hope for a better outcome to a future pregnancy, and meanwhile pray that no enemy learns the secret of my poor sons and I.’

      ‘There are only two enemies,’ Ullanoth said, ‘that need concern you now.’

      Conrig and Stergos regarded her with open dismay, each thinking that she must have heard the rumor about Maudrayne and her son.

      But the Conjure-Queen went on to say, ‘My little brother Beynor knows nothing of your own talent – not yet. But he’s up to some kind of mischief with the Salka. I’ve been too indisposed to spy on him closely with the Loophole sigil of late, but my ordinary scrying reveals him to be in a state of unusual excitement. I’ve told you that Beynor spends his time studying the historical archives of his monstrous hosts in the Dawntide Isles. I cannot read lips well, and the Salka have erected magical barriers that dim my unaugmented oversight of their citadel. But I believe that Beynor may have made some important discovery. And he may have shared it with your old enemy, Vra-Kilian Blackhorse, the former Royal Alchymist.’

      ‘But how?’ Stergos demanded. ‘Our wretched uncle was deprived of all talent by the iron gammadion before being confined to Zeth Abbey. Kilian is unable to speak СКАЧАТЬ