— A weapon. That’s all. That’s all you ever were, my
prince. Mauryl used you. Men use you,—and unwisely, at
that. You always had questions. Ask me. I’ll answer.—Or
change things. With the Book, if you take it up, you can
do that. You can be anywhere you’ve ever been. Only the
future changes. Would you free Mauryl? You can. I’m
certain I don’t care, if he’ll mend his manners. But you
can change that. I’m sure you can.
He saw light…light as he had seen at the beginning of everything. The other side of that light was Mauryl’s fireside. He could step right through the firelight. He would be there, that first of the safest nights, most kindly nights of his life, welcomed by Mauryl’s voice and warmed by Mauryl’s cloak.
He would be there. Mauryl would be alive again, Summoning him out of the fire.
He could think of the library, the warm colors of faded tapestry, the many wooden balconies and the scaffolding. He could think of Mauryl’s wrinkled face and white beard.
He could think of Mauryl at his ciphering, the tip of the quill working and the dry scratch of Mauryl’s pen on parchment, as real as if he stood there at Mauryl’s shoulder. He could step through. He could stand in the study. He could be at that very moment Mauryl Called him. He saw the firelight like a curtain before him. He could all but hear Mauryl’s voice. It was that moment. He could have it all again.
Forever.
— You see? said the Wind. Seemings are all alterable.
Restore what was? You are of the West, not the East.
Never fear what you were. Glory in it. Look to the dawn
of reason. Look to the dawn of our kind. Your name—
“My name,” he shouted at it,—
—“is Tristen, Tristen, Tristen! ”
Wings—he was certain it was Owl—clove the air in front of him. And he— he moved them all through Time, following Owl, chasing Owl back to where Owl belonged.
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He heard his horse’s hoofbeats. He felt Dys striding under him. He saw Owl flying ahead of him, black against the heart of that white luminance in the very moment it came down on him. There was no feeling-out, no conative attack this time. The Wind enveloped him with cold and sound.
— Barrakkêth! it wailed. Barrakkêth, Kingbreaker, listen
to me, only listen—I know you now! Deathmaker, you are
far too great to be Mauryl’s toy—listen to me!
He fought to hold the sword, but he gripped its mortal weight, swung it into the heart of the light—the sword met insubstance, clove it, echoing, shrieking into dark as the silver burned and seared his hand.
The cold poured over him as Dys and Owl and he lost each other then. He spun through dark, nowhere, formless and cold.
He had no will to move, to think, even to dream, nor wanted any.
“M’lord. Tristen, lad. Tristen!”
A horse gave a snort. He was aware of dark huge feet near his head. Of something trailing across his face, a horse’s breath in his eyes. Of the world from an unaccustomed angle.
Of silence.
“M’lord.” Another snort. A thump and clatter of armor nearing him. He saw a shadow, felt the touch of a hand on his face, a hand that burned his cheek, it was so very warm.
Then strong arms seized him and tried to lift him. “M’lord, help me here. Come on, ye said ye’ll heed me. Come on. Come back to me, m’lord. Don’t lie to me.”
It was Uwen’s distant voice, Uwen wanted help for something, and, obliged to try, he drew a deep breath and tried to do what Uwen wanted, which required listening, and moving, and hurting.
He saw Uwen’s face, grimed and bloody, with trails of moisture down his cheeks, shadowed against a pearl gray sky. The air about them was so quiet, so very, very quiet he could hear Dys and Cass as they moved.
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He could hear the wind in the leaves. The world…had such a wealth of textures, of colors, sights, shapes, sounds, substance…it all came pouring in, and the breath hurt his chest as he tried to drink it all.
“Oh, m’lord,” Uwen said. “I was sure ye was dead. I looked and I looked.” He stripped the wreckage of the shield from his left arm; he moved the fingers of his right hand and realized that he still held his sword. The blade was scored and bright along one edge as if some fire had burned it away. The silver circlet was fused to the quillons and the hilt, the leather wrappings hung loose and silver writing was burned bright along its center.
He tried to loose his fingers and much of the gauntlet came away as if rotten with age. The skin there peeled away, leaving new, raw flesh.
He struggled to rise, with the other hand using the sword to lean on, and Uwen took it from him and helped him to stand.
All the field was leveled where they stood. There were only bodies of men and horses, and themselves.
“We won,” Uwen said. “Gods know how,—we won, m’lord.
Umanon and Cevulirn took the hills and kept the ambush off our backs. Then the Amefin foot come in, Lanfarnesse showed up late, and the lady’s coming with the baggage. It was you we couldn’t find.”
“Is Cefwyn safe?”
“Aye, m’lord.” Uwen lifted the hand that held his sword. “See, His Majesty’s banner, bright as day, there by the center.”
Tristen let go his breath, stumbled as he tried to walk toward that place shining in sunlight—the gray clouds were over them, but it was brilliant color, that banner, brilliant, hard-edged and truer than the world had ever seemed. A piece of his armor had come loose, and rattled against his leg, another against his arm.
“Don’t you try,” Uwen said, pulling at him as he tried to walk.
“Easy, m’lord. Easy. Ye daren’t walk this field, m’lord. Let me get you up on your horse. I can do it.”
He nodded numbly, and let Uwen turn him toward Dys, who, exhausted, gave little difficulty about being caught.
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Uwen made a stirrup of his hands and gave him a lift enough to drag himself to the saddle. Then Uwen managed to climb onto Cass with a grunt and a groan, and landed across the saddle until he could sort himself into it: Tristen waited, and Dys started to move, on his own, as Cass did, slowly.
Around them, from that vantage, the field showed littered with dead—until it reached the place where he had lain; and after that the ground was almost clear.
“It stopped?” he asked Uwen. “The Wind stopped here?”
“Aye, m’lord, the instant it veered off and took you, it stopped.
Just one great shriek and it were gone, taking some of its own wi’ it. And some of ours, gods help ’em. Andas is gone. So’s Lusin. I thought you was gone for good, m’lord. I thought I was goin’. I thought that thing was coming right over us. But Cass was off like a fool, and I come back again and searched, and I guess I just mistook the ground, ’cause there ye was, this time, plain as plain, and Dys-lad standing over ye, having a bite of grass.”
He looked up at the pallid, clouded, ordinary sky.
“What were that thing, m’lord?”
He shook his head slowly. For what it was, he had no Word, nor would Uwen. He turned Dys toward the place where Cefwyn’s red banner flew, and saw that Ninévrisë’s had just joined it.
The land along the forest-edge and across the hills had become a place of horror, riven armor and flesh tangled in clots and heaps, wherever the fighting had been thick. Someone moaned and cried for water, another for help they were not able, themselves, to give. Men moved among them in the distance, bringing both, he hoped.
They came on a little knoll, a tree, and a dead horse. One man sat with another in his arms. They wore the red of the Guelenfolk.
Erion and Denyn. The Ivanim, wounded himself, held the boy, rocking to and fro, and looked up at them as they stopped.
“Come with us,” Tristen said gently. “We shall take you to the King.”
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&
nbsp; “I will go there soon,” Erion said faintly and bent his head against the boy’s, with nothing more to say.
Tristen lingered, wishing there were magic to work, a miracle he dared do; but there was none: the boy was dead—and he would not.
He rode on with Uwen. He saw the Heron banner of Lanfarnesse and the Amefin Eagle planted on the nearer hill, the White Horse and the Wheel on the slope of the farther. They rode to the tattered red banner of the Marhanen Dragon, and the knot of weary men gathered about it.
They rode up among the Guelenfolk. He saw the faces of those about Cefwyn turn toward him. He saw hands laid on weapons.
He thought that they did not know him, and lifted his free hand to show it empty…he saw Cefwyn’s face, that was likewise stricken with fear.
“Cefwyn,” he said, and dismounted.
Idrys was there, and caught at Cefwyn’s arm when Cefwyn moved toward him, but Cefwyn shook him off and came and took his hand as if he feared he would break.
“I lost my shield,” Tristen said, only then feeling his heart come back to him. “—And my helm. I don’t know where, my lord.”
“Gods.” Cefwyn embraced him with a grate of metal. He shuddered and held to Cefwyn’s arms when he let go. “You fool,” Cefwyn said gently. “You great fool—he’s gone. Aséyneddin is dead, his whole damned army has fled the field, or surrendered under m’lady’s banner! Come. Come. The rest of us are coming in. Pelumer is found…lost himself in the woods, to his great disgust…”
“It is no fault of his.”
“Holy gods,—Wizards. No, I knew it. Ninévrisë’s had word of Sovrag; his cousin was wiped out, lost, and Sovrag couldn’t pass upriver. A blackness hung over the river, and the boats lost themselves while it lasted…even so, they’ve taken down the Emwy bridge. The rebels that did escape us won’t cross.—Gods, are you all right, Tristen?”
He flexed his hand, wiped at his eyes. “I’m very well.”
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He walked away then. Uwen led Dys and Cass behind him.
He had no idea where to go, now. He thought he would sleep a while. True sleep had been very long absent from him.
— Emuin, he said, but he had no answer—a sense of presence, but nothing close. Possibly Emuin was asleep himself.
“Where are ye goin’, m’lord?” Uwen asked. “Sounds as if they’ll be bringin’ the wagons in, if ye please. We’ll have canvas
’twixt us and the weather. She’s clouded up, looking like rain tonight.”
He looked at the sky, at common, gray-bottomed clouds. He looked about him at the woods. Owl had gone, Shadow that he was, into the trees, where he was more comfortable. But he knew where Owl was. Owl had gone to the river, where the small creatures had not been startled into hiding. Owl would wait for night. That was the kind of creature Owl was, as kings were kings and lords were lords and the likes of Uwen Lewen’s-son would always stay faithful.
He saw no shadow in the sky. None on the horizon. He did not know how to answer Uwen’s question, but he thought that he would sit down on the rocks near the road, and wait, and see what the world of Men was about to be.
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LEXICON
Concordance for the Fortress Books
YLESUIN
AMEFEL—southern province;
banner: black Eagle on red field
Royalty / Lords
Aswydd Household
HERYN ASWYDD—Duke of Amefel, the aetheling
His twin sisters:
ORIEN ASWYDD—Duchess of Amefel;
TARIEN ASWYDD—Secondborn
THEWYDD—Heryn Aswydd’s man
Tristen’s Household
TRISTEN—Marshal of Althalen, Lord Warden of Ynefel UWEN—Lewen’s-son, Tristen’s man, sergeant of Cefwyn’s Dragon Guard, captain of Tristen’s guard
Tristen’s Guard
LUSIN—Captain of Tristen’s bodyguard
SYLLAN—one of Tristen’s guards
ARAN—one of Tristen’s guards
TAWWYS—one of Tristen’s guards
ASWYS—groom
CASSAM, CASS—Uwen’s warhorse, bow-nosed, blue roan gelding
DYS, DYSARYS—Tristen’s warhose, black, full brother to Aryny and Kanwy
GERY—Tristen’s light horse, red mare
GIA—Uwen’s light horse, bay mare
LISS—Uwen’s horse, chestnut mare
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PETELLY—Tristen’s cross-country horse, a bay of no breeding
Amefin Earls and Their Households
EDWYLL ADIRAN—earl of Meiden, remotely related to Aswydds; banner: gold sun
CRISSAND ADIRAN—son of and successor to Edwyll AZANT—lord of Dor Elen province, which borders the ver orchard district
A daughter: widowed twice, once when married only seven days
BRESTANDIN—Amefin earl
CEDRIG—elderly Amefin earl living in retirement, owner of room Tristen lodges in, then where Ninévrisë lodges in Henas’samef
CIVAS—Amefin earl
CUTHAN—earl of Bryn, distant relative of Aswydds DRUMMAN—lord of Baradden, youngest of earls except for Crissand; his elder sister is Edwyll’s wife, Crissand’s mother DRUSALLYN—elderly lord, married local gentry in Amefel DRUSENAN—earl of Bryn, successor to Cuthan; wife: Yne-syne, an Elwynim
DURELL—Amefin earl
EDRACHT—Amefin earl
ESRYDD—Amefin earl
LUND—Amefin earl
MARMASCHEN—Amefin earl
MORIDEDD—Amefin earl
MURRAS—Amefin earl
PRUSHAN—Amefin earl
PURELL—Amefin earl
TARAS—earl of Bru Marden
ZERESHADD—Amefin earl
Other Persons
Clergy / Clerics
CADELL—Bryaltine abbot in Henas’amef
775
FAISETH—Bryaltine nun
EMUIN UDAMAN—wizard/tutor/priest, Teranthine, tutored Cefwyn and Efanor
DEL’REZAN—Bryaltine nun
PACHYLL—priest, Teranthine patriarch in Henas’samef Military
COSSUN—armorer
ENNYN—Guelen Guard second in Command
GEDD—sergeant in Tristen’s guard
AMAN—gate-guard
NEDRAS—gate-guard
NESS—gate-guard
SELMWY—cousin of Ness at town gate
WYNEDD—Guelen Guard commander
Minor Officials
TASSAND—started as Cefwun’s servant, now Tristen’s chief of household
HAMAN—stablemaster at Henas’samef
Local Gentry
ARDWYS—thane of Sagany, leader of the peasant contingent from Sagany and Pacewys
Miscellaneous
AULD SYES— witch, in Emwyn village, near Althalen PAISI—street urchin
SEDDIWY—Shadow, Auld Syes’s child
WYDNIN—former junior archivist
Places, Titles, et cetera
AETHELING, ATHELING—title, used instead of king in Amefel; royal in their province
ALTHALEN—old Sihhë capita, where last of Sihhë died, now Tristen’s in ruins, banner is silver Star and Tower on black AMEFIN—of Amefel province
ANAS MALLORN—Amefin village, on riverside
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ARDENBROOK—brook after Maudbrook on way to Henas’amef
ARREYBURN—camping spot of Emuin on the way back to Henas’amef from retreat
AVERYNE CROSSING—crossing to Guelessar from Amefel on the way out of Henas’samef
ARYS—district/town, Arys Emwy, Emwy village: destroyed when Ináreddrin was killed; district contains Althalen and Lewen field
ARYS BRIDGE—bridge near Emwy to west, where Elwynor rebels could enter Amefel
ARYS DISTRICT—near Heans’amef, contains villages of Emwy and Malitarin
ASFIAD—old name for Aswyth
ASMADDION—place in the province
ASSURN FORD—river border of the province
ASSURNBROOK—river
ASWYTH—a village
ATHEL—Amefin district bordering Mediden’s land BARADDAN—Drumman’s district, contains orchards BRU MARDAN—Taras district
BRYN—Cuthan’s estate
CEYL, TRYS—TRYS CEYL—Amefin village south of Henas’samef
DOR ELEN—Anzant’s district, orchard district
DRUN, TRYS DRUN—next to Trys Ceyl, village south of Henas’amef
EALDORMAN, EALDORMEN—council of Henas’amef
EDLINNADD—old name for Ellinan
ELLINAN—a village
EMWY—village/district, see: Arys, Arys Emwy, Emwy village EMWYSBROOK—brook near Emwy
FOREST OF AMEFEL—near Althalen
GRAYFROCK, GRAYROBE—nickname for Emuin
HAWWYVALE—village
HEN AMAS—old name for Henas’amef
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HENAS’AMEF—capital of the province
KATHSEIDE—old name of Zeide, fortress in Henas’amef LEVEY—Amefin village, part orchard, part pastrurage for flocks
LEWEN—brook giving its name to area of battle LEWEN FIELD, LEWEN PLAIN—near Althalen, battlefield where Hausfin was destroyed
LEWENBROOK—brook
LEWENFORD—area of battle, see Lewen field
LEWENSIDE—area of battle, see Lewen field
LYSALIN—Amefin village
MALDY VILLAGE—Amefin village with crossing to Elwynor MALITARIN—Amefin village two hours from Henas’samef MALLORN, ANAS, ANAS MALLORN—Amefin village on riverside
MARGREIS—ruined village, haunt of outlaws, near Emwy MARNA, MARNA WOOD—haunted forest
MARSHAL OF ALTHALEN—Tristen’s title, bestowed by Cefwyn
MASSITBROOK—camping spot on way to Lewen field for Cefwyn and troops
MASTER GRAYROBE, GRAYFROCK—nickname, refers to Emuin, wizard/tutor/priest, Teranthine
MAUDBROOK—on the way to Henas’amef
MAUDBROOK BRIDGE—bridge on the way to Henas’amef MEIDEN—sheep district; banner: blue with gold sun PACEWYS—Amefin village, sent troops to Lewen field, commanded by Lord Ardwys, thane of Sagany
PADYS SPRING—one hour south of Henas’amef, once called Batherys
RAGISAR—Amefin village
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