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

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      ‘My brother may have been cursed by the Lights and stripped of his sigils,’ Ullanoth said, ‘but he still retains the strong natural talents he was born with. One of those is the ability to invade dreams. When we were young children, he used to torment me until I learned to shut him out. Fortunately, that defensive ability comes readily to those who are adept at the arcane arts.’

      The king nodded thoughtfully, remembering that Snudge had also told him once of being harassed by Beynor while sleeping. ‘So you believe your brother communicates with Kilian through dreams?’

      ‘Zeth Abbey is well-shielded from windsearching, but I have been able to follow Beynor’s mental footsteps, as it were, to that place many times. I doubt there is any other person residing in the abbey who would be of interest to him.’

      ‘Beynor and Kilian!’ Conrig mused. ‘What common cause could the two exiles share nowadays? And yet they did conspire against me as I prepared to invade Didion…’

      Ullanoth had learned some years ago that both villains shared knowledge of a mysterious hidden trove of sigils. But she was unware that the King already knew of its existence.

      ‘I shall have to warn Abbas Noachil about this at once,’ Stergos said. ‘He’s very old and ill, but he can order the Brethren to take special precautions against Kilian’s escape.’

      ‘That would be prudent.’ Ullanoth turned to Conrig. ‘Unfortunately, Beynor has also attempted to invade the dreams of some person residing here in Cala Palace. I learned of this only two days ago, as I scried him on the parapet of the Salka island fortress and followed his windtrace. I don’t know who his intended target was, only that the dreamer successfully repelled Beynor’s effort.’

      ‘God’s Teeth!’ Conrig exclaimed. ‘Could the bastard have been trying to enter my dreams?’

      ‘Were you aware of any such assault?’ Ullanoth asked. When Conrig admitted he could recall no such thing, she smiled. ‘Then you’re very likely safe. Your talent, meager though it is, would probably have alerted your sleeping mind to any attempt at forcible entry. Were you an untalented person, however, it’s possible he might have invaded you without your being aware of what was happening.’

      ‘This is a troubling piece of news,’ Stergos said. ‘If Beynor’s target was not the High King, then who might it have been?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘Dream-invasion is an uncommon talent. Certain members of Moss’s Glaumerie Guild have used it in the past to gather information from the minds of ordinary folk, or as a means of subtly coercing dreamers into some activity. More often than not, the invasion fails of its objective unless the dreamer is predisposed to cooperate, is very young, or has impaired willpower.’

      ‘Will you continue to oversee Beynor’s footprints on the wind,’ Conrig besought her, ‘and warn us if he attempts some wicked ploy among the residents of Cala Palace? I would deem it a great favor.’

      ‘You ask the impossible. My surveillance of my brother is sporadic at best because I am so drained of strength. I only undertake it to protect myself and my kingdom from his evil designs.’

      ‘Then what can we do?’ Conrig asked.

      ‘Nothing except be on guard.’ Ullanoth took her cloak from Conrig’s hands and wrapped it about her once again. ‘It’s time for me to leave you. I dare not let my Sending remain here any longer, for I feel myself growing very weak. Be assured that I’ll notify Vra-Stergos promptly if I should discover anything that you should know.’

      Thank you for examining the unborn babe, my dearest queen.’ Conrig made a formal inclination of his head. ‘I regret that your pain will be endured to no good outcome.’

      She touched his cheek. ‘We are with one another so seldom now that I welcome the opportunity to be here – even if it can only be in a brief Sending. Consider a voyage to Moss this summer. You can easily contrive an excuse.’

      ‘It’s a wonderful idea. You’ll be hearing from me.’ He bent over her hand again, and a moment later she disappeared.

      Aghast, Stergos whispered, ‘Surely you would not go to her!’

      Conrig’s smile was grim. ‘No more than I would dive headlong into the steaming crater of Mornash volcano. But let her have hope.’

      The Royal Alchymist spoke anxiously. ‘You know what Kilian must be after.’

      ‘I know. But the Darasilo Trove can’t be easy to get at, else our uncle would have had his minions seize it years ago…or you and Snudge would have located the bloody thing yourselves.’

      ‘But –’

      ‘Brother, we’ll consider the matter tomorrow, when Snudge returns. He knows more about that cache of sigils than anyone else we can trust. For now, I think you and I should carry Risalla to her bed. Then you must bespeak Snudge ordering his return and warn Abbas Noachil to put Kilian and his three cronies into close confinement. Meanwhile, I’ll seek out Earl Marshal Parlian in the gardens and ask his opinion of this fine mess. One thing is certain: I was much mistaken in telling my Royal Intelligencer that this would be a peaceful summer.’ Stergos had given all of the Brothers in the palace permission to set aside their usual duties and enjoy the Solstice entertainments. So he was surprised to find three red-robed figures standing outside the great door that led to the Alchymical Library, engaged in earnest conversation. He vaguely recognized them as visiting scholars, associates of Prior Waringlow who had come down from Zeth Abbey several months earlier to do research on some historical project or other.

      ‘Why are you tarrying inside the palace on such a beautiful night?’ he asked them, unfastening a large iron key from the ring he wore on his belt. To reach his own rooms, he had to pass through the library.

      The Brothers bowed in respectful unison. One of them said, ‘We had hoped to do some studying, Lord Stergos, but found the library locked. Perhaps you’ll admit us –’

      ‘Nonsense! Go listen to the music and have a cup of wine. Your work can wait.’

      ‘Certainly, my lord.’

      Stergos watched them go, trying to recall their names. But thoughts of what he must say and must not say in the upcoming wind-conversation with Vra-Mattis, the novice Brother assigned to Snudge, distracted him, and he gave up the effort as he fitted the key into its massive lock.

       TWO

      Drumming. Drumming. Drumming.

       Dom dom t’pat-a-pat pom…dom

      The sound coming from the little hut beyond the byre was soft but still audible in every room of the arctic steading’s main house, repeating the same simple percussive figure, continuing hour after hour for nearly two days, longer than ever before. Sometimes the beat would falter, the timing spoiled because of inattention or the fatigue of the drummer’s aged wrists and fingers; but after a painful pause the rhythmic sound always began again.

      Dobnelu the sea-hag was having a particularly difficult time crossing the barrier this time. She could not recall how many false starts she’d made. Fven a single mistake in the three thousand measured patterns СКАЧАТЬ