Sorcerer’s Moon: Part Three of the Boreal Moon Tale. Julian May

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СКАЧАТЬ and the faces of the royal youths were hidden for much of the time by their wide-brimmed hats, inhibiting lip-reading; nevertheless he was able to identify each prince and gain a slight understanding of their characters.

      Prince Heritor Orrion was the most interesting. He had apparently suffered some wound to his right arm, which was heavily wrapped and held in a sling. His manner was one of feverish excitement and he kept urging his companions to hurry, even though their mounts were jaded and drooping after what obviously had been a long day’s ride.

      I wonder why the Heritor is meeting the Brackenfield family on the sly? Beynor asked himself. The gossip in Elktor was that Orrion was to be betrothed to Princess Hyndry Mallburn, the widow of Duke Garal’s son. But the winsome Lady Nyla seemed to be in a state of twittery anticipation.

      As Beynor considered the implications of this, the final hail of the Salka Eminences came faintly into his mind. He muttered an obscenity. So the monsters wanted a favor of him, did they? And nothing small, considering what they offered in return! From his own studies of the Salka archives, Beynor was virtually certain that the Potency would abolish the Lights’ curse on him; but the sigil had seemed hopelessly out of reach.

      I can’t ignore them this time, he decided. I must take the risk of answering.

      He spoke on the wind: ‘Hello again. If you have anything to say, be quick about it. I’m very busy.’

      The precisely directed response came from Master Kalawnn, his old mentor.

       Beynor, I greet you after long years of silence and hope you are in good health.

      ‘I am. Let’s not waste time in pleasantries.’

       We presume you know about our recent military incursion into Didion.

      ‘I also know that your army is now fleeing like woodrats before wildfire and plunging headlong into the sea.’

       All part of our strategy, dear friend. We withdraw from one position only to renew the attack even more fiercely in another.

      ‘Ah. I see…’

       What you may not be aware of is that earlier in the year we sent an expedition to the Barren Lands, where we located one of the two lost Moon Crags that provide raw material for the manufacture of new sigils.

      ‘I know your warriors had a fight up there with the Grand Shaman of Tarn. He whipped your arses with his sorcery, and the crag was mostly pulverized during the ruckus. Too bad.’

       We salvaged a small amount of useful mineral. As a matter of fact, our lapidaries are fashioning two Great Stones from it even as we bespeak one another. We intend to employ them as weapons in our intensified attack on the Sovereignty.

      ‘Good luck. But what do you want of me, Kalawnn?’

       We have just discovered the location of the second Moon Crag. It lies on a mountaintop in Cathra. We were informed by the Great Lights that YOU are the appropriate person to climb the mountain and bring us more sigil-making mineral from its summit.’

      ‘Me?!’

      If you agree, we invite you to come to Royal Fenguard as soon as possible. I myself will use the Potency’s sorcery to free you of the Lights’ curse before you set out to fetch moonstone specimens for us. When you bring us the raw mineral, we will reward you with a goodly number of minor sigils to advance your own ambitions. A Strength-Giver would be useful, wouldn’t it? And maybe a Shapechanger or Concealer to disguise you from unfriendly observers? We are prepared to be very generous.

      Beynor was stunned. The slimy imbeciles had no notion of what they were offering. Minor sigils? He’d take them, of course, to augment the Great Stones of his trove…and thus enable him to steal the Potency itself from Kalawnn!

      But what if the Stone of Stones didn’t abolish the curse? The Salka archival tablet he’d studied had given tantalizing hints, but no certainty. Moonstone sorcery ultimately derived from the Beaconfolk. If the curse still held, using even a sigil rendered pain-free by the Potency might bring down the wrath of the Lights upon him.

      There’s no simple solution to this dilemma, Beynor realized. Yet –

      Do you understand our proposal? the Salka shaman asked.

      Beynor said, ‘We attempted to strike a bargain and work together years ago, Master Kalawnn. Regrettably, the collaboration fell apart due to Ugusawnn’s hostility. If I agree to work with you again, there must be solid guarantees. And your Supreme Warrior will have no part in the operation.’

       The Warrior repents his crass behavior, and we other Eminent Ones are willing to be magnanimous. In our earlier alliance, it was agreed that the Salka would take back High Blenholme Island, our ancestral home, using sigil magic. We would then assist you to conquer the nations of the Continent. Does this scenario still meet with your approval?

      ‘It does.’

       So are we agreed? You will help us to obtain fresh sigil-making materials?

      ‘I can do nothing for you until I finish certain urgent business of my own. Even then, the terms of the new agreement must be clarified to our mutual satisfaction. I tell you here and now that the gift of a handful of minor sigils is totally inadequate.’

       This can be negotiated.

      ‘Where is this Moon Crag mountain? Is it difficult of access?’

       It lies in the range you call Dextral, above Swan Lake, and would not be hard for a human to approach and climb. I won’t be more specific until we speak face to face and come to an agreement.

      ‘I don’t intend to discuss your proposition further until I’m satisfied that I won’t endanger my life or liberty by meeting with you.’

       I can assure –

      ‘Look here, Kalawnn. I said that I was busy with other matters. Consult your fellow-Eminences. Work out a scheme whereby you and I and one other Eminence – excluding Ugusawnn! – can at least meet safely to hammer out the terms of the agreement. It will have to be a generous one. Bespeak me again with a general hail two or three days from now, around sunset. Needless to say, I won’t be staying long in the place where I am now.’

       I understand. I will develop a plan acceptable to all of us. Farewell.

      The windthread snapped, but Beynor had already traced it along most of its course. It led directly toward Fenguard in Moss. If the second Moon Crag was situated in the eastern Dextrals, the Salka leaders could gain access to it only through a full-scale invasion of Cathra. Even then, their amphibian physique was unsuited to rock scrambling. Using a trustworthy human confederate was the only reasonable option.

      That the Great Lights seemed to have recommended his services to the monsters was peculiar and perhaps even ominous, given that they had imposed the curse on him in the first place. It would be the height of folly to act hastily in this matter.

      Beynor sipped brandy and watched the sun go down, until he caught sight of a train of torch-bearing riders approaching the fortress from the southwest. It had to be the sons of Conrig Ironcrown.

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