Lord of Lies

by David Zindell

  And so the great Galadin went forth and summoned others of their kind to the world of Agathad, also known as Skol. And there they waited to fulfill their destiny. At the end of the ages, they would gather by the shores of a silver lake, and sing, and set free the bright infinity within themselves in an explosion into light. They would become beings of pure light: the Ieldra of the new universe to which they would give birth. And life would continue on its journey toward the One: ageless, indestructible, indwelling deep inside the depths of all things.

  And all this, as the stars poured down their radiance into the amphitheater and I sat frozen to the bench beneath me, I saw and sensed and tried to understand.

  The Maitreyas truly are Bringers of Light, I thought. And they are the Makers of Angels.

  And then, like two pieces of silk knitted into a whole cloth again, my consciousness was made one, and I returned to staring out at the amphitheater's layers of leaves and glittering walls - and at the ghost who stared right back at me.

  'Ah, that was like a drunkard's dreams,' Maram said as he rubbed his eyes. Where before he had shivered, now beads of sweat formed up on his fat forehead. 'Did everyone else see what I did?'

  For a while, as the constellations turned slowly above us, we sat there exchanging accounts of what we had seen. They were much the same. Our understanding of them, however, was not.

  'The men who guarded the Lightstone,' Sajagax said to me, 'seemed much like you Valari. But why? Who chose them for this glory?'

  Maram nodded at me and said, 'And what of the king, then? Certainly he must have been Valari. He looked like you, my friend.'

  The king still stood out in my mind's eye, at once as strange as the distant world of Erathe and utterly familiar: he might have been my brother, my father, myself.

  'It was the first Shining One who bore Valashu's aspect,' Lord Raasharu said. 'For surely it is not the cast of a man's face or the color of his eyes that contains his essence, but his heart and soul.'

  This provoked yet more comment, from Sar Hannu and Sar Varald and the other knights, who were inclined to believe that the ghost's sole purpose in giving us these visions was to show me my destiny as the Maitreya.

  There is much that we still don't comprehend,' Master Juwain said. 'The movement of man is always toward the One, even as we of the Brotherhoods have always taught. But it seems that this rise can be hindered, or even forestalled altogether. From other sources, we know of Angra Mainyu's fall and the War of the Stone. But we were told nothing of this tonight. How is the Lightstone to be used and why did the ancient Maitreyas fail with the Dark One?'

  No sooner had this question left his lips than the ghost stepped forward and said, 'Aulara, Auliama.' Then he began singing out a song that filled all the amphitheater and shook the very stone surrounding us.

  'No, wait!' Master Juwain called out, glancing up at the sky. 'That may not be the question that would be best to ask. It is growing late, and there are other things of vital importance that must be .. '

  His voice died before the vastly greater voice of the ghost as it became clear that this mysterious being intended to answer Master Juwain's question whether he liked it or not. I listened to the ghost, enraptured, even though I could understand little of what he was saying. For a single word repeated again and again, and that was Alkaladur.

  Again I drew my sword and held it pointed toward the stars. Its silustria rang out like a bell and seemed to sing in harmony with the ghost's music.

  'What is he saying?' Maram called out in a voice nearly as big as the ghost's. 'I don't understand any of it.'

  Master Juwain, gazing at the ghost said to him. 'There's too much, too fast, for me to understand either. But I believe that he is telling the story of Angra Mainyu's fall and the attempt of the Galadin and Eltjin to heal him of his madness.'

  'Then why doesn't he tell it in words that make sense?' Maram bellowed out.

  At this, the ghost suddenly ceased singing and stared at Maram. Then he smiled and began reciting:

  When first the Dragon ruled the land.

  The ancient warrior came to Skol.

  He sought for healing with his hand,

  And healing fire burned his soul.

  The sacred spark of hope he held,

  It glowed like leaves an emerald green;

  In heart and hand it brightly dwelled:

  The fire of the Galadin.

  He brought this flame into a world

  Where flowers blazed like stellulars,

  Where secret colors flowed and swirled

  And angels walked beneath the stars.

  To Star-Home thus the warrior came,

  Beside the ancient silver lake.

  By hope of heart, by fire and flame,

  A sacred sword he vowed to make.

  Alkaladur! ABtaladur!

  The Sword of Love, the Sword of Light,

  Which men have named Awakener

  From darkest dreams and fear-filled night.

  No noble metal, gem or stone –

  Its blade of finer substance wrought,

  Of essence pure as love alone,

  As Strong as hope, as quick as thought.

  Valarda, like molten steel,

  Like tears, like waves of singing light,

  Which angel fire has set its seal

  And breath of angels polished bright.

  Ten thousand years it took to make

  Beneath their planet's shining sun;

  Ten thousand angels by the lake:

  Their souls poured forth their fire as one.

  In strength surpassing adamant,

  Its perfect beauty diamond-bright,

  No gelstei shone more radiant:

  The sacred sword was purest light. . .

  As the ghost continued reciting verses that reminded me of others that Alphanderry had once spoken to me, I gazed at my shining sword. The one who forged it, I thought, had named it after another sword, made many ages ago not of silustria but valarda - a sword of the soul. The true Alkaladur. A hundred questions sprang into my mind. Why couldn't one of the Maitreyas heal Angra Mainyu? And was the ancient warrior of whom the ghost spoke the same as the warrior mentioned in Alphanderry's epic: Kalkin, the immortal Elijin who had somehow become Kane, my companion and friend? And if so, why had Kalkin taken the lead in this quest over the much greater Galadin such as Ashtoreth and Valoreth?

  I listened as the ghost told of the great war between the Amshahs, who sought to preserve the Law of the One, and the Daevas who followed Angra Mainyu:

  In ruth the warrior went to war,

  A host of angels in his train:

  Ten thousand Amshahs, all who swore

  To heal the Dark One's bitter pain.

  With Kalkin, splendid Solajin

  And Varkoth, Set and Ashtoreth –

  The greatest of the Galadin

  Went forth to vanquish fear of death.

  And Urukin and Baradin,

  In all their pity, pomp and pride:

  The brightest of the Elijin

  In many thousands fought and died.

  Their gift, valarda, opened them:

  Into their hearts a fell hate poured;

  This turned the warrior's stratagem

  For none could wield the sacred sword.

  Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

  The Brightest Blade, the Sword that Shone,

  Which men have named the Opener,

  Was meant for one and one alone.

  As the night deepened and the wind fell down from the stars, the ghost went on singing for a long time, for his tale was a long one. He told of how Marsul had called a great crusade to wrest the Lightstone from Angra Mainyu by force of arms. Half of the Amshahs had joined Ashtoreth and Valoreth in seeking Angra Mainyu's defeat through finding a way to wield the Sword of Light; but half of them betrayed the One's injunction that the Elijin and Galadin may not take life, and they had gathered to Marsul's standard. And not just angels, it seemed, but the Star People w
ho were my ancestors.

  And by their side Valari knights

  Like stars a hundred thousand strong,

  Their diamond armor gleamed like lights;

  Their shields were hard, their swords were long.

  What followed then, as the ghost finished his account of the War of the Stone, saddened me for he told of my friend's wrath and near-fall into evil:

  At last the faithful Kalkin broke:

  With sword in hand, with bitter breath

  Upon his soul an oath he spoke:

  He vowed to bring the Dragon's death.

  Then Mainyu fled across the stars

  With Yama, Kadaklan and Zun,

  The Daevas with their soul-dark scars –

  They hid beneath a silver moon.

  On Erathe, oldest world of Man,

  The Amshahs found their ancient foe.

  With Marsul, Kalkin. in the van,

  Their helms on high, their swords aglow.

  The armies met in summers heat

  Upon Tharharra's sun-seared plain;

  No pity, quarter or retreat

  No breath of wind nor drop of rain.

  Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

  The Sword of Love, the Sword of Life,

  Which men have named the Quickener

  Of dreams of death, of peace and strife.

  All day the angels' armies clashed

  Across the blazing, grassy sea,

  Where steel and gelstei cruelly flashed

  In deeds of dreadful savagery.

  The sky burned black, the sea ran red –

  At last the warrior seized his foe

  Who stood as dead among the dead

  By might of empathy laid low.

  For Kalkin, with black stone in hand,

  Now touched upon the depthless dark;

  He brought him to that lightless land

  And dimmed the Dragon's sacred spark.

  And Marsul seized the golden bowl

  While Manwe worked the Dragons doom:

  With aid of angels sent from Skol

  He bound the Dragon on Damoom.

  Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

  Triumphant Sword, the Righteous Blade,

  Which men have named the Vanquisher

  Of woe and evil men have made.

  Then Marsul, mad with long-held lust,

  Beheld the golden bowl that shone.

  He broke the Amshahs' sacred trust,

  And claimed the Lightstone for his own.

  But Kalkin fought him sword to sword

  Across Tharharra's blood-soaked field,

  Contending for the ancient hoard,

  He forced his furied friend to yield.

  Bereft of that which maddened him,

  Brave Marsul's ageless eyes grew clear,

  He found that place of grace and glim,

  And faced his fate without a fear.

  And now this Galadin so bright,

  Atoning for his killing pride,

  Vanished in a cloud of light –

  Thus Marsul, mighty Marsul, died.

  Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

  The Blade of Grace, Mysterious Sword,

  Which men have named the Deepener –

  To ruthless ruth will be restored.

  The Amshahs then grew cold with dread

  At setting of the bloody sun;

  On ground where so much life was shed

  They saw an even Darker One.

  But he who'd touched the Sword of Light

  Perceived the Lightsword had touched him.

  While angels watched, his heart blazed bright,

  His eyes, his hands and every limb.

  The warrior gave to Valakand

  To guard the ancient golden bowl;

  He set the vessel in his hand,

  Thus cooled the fire of his soul.

  And though the dark was not undone,

  A light within the darkness hides;

  While Star-Home turns around its sun

  The Sword of Light, and Love, abides.

  Alkaladur! Alkaladur!

  The Sword of Fate, the Sword of Sight,

  Which men have named Deliverer,

  Awaits the promised Lord of Light.

  As the ghost finished chanting, other beings appeared in the staging area. All were men, or something more, and all wore armor of various kinds: plate or steel mail or rings of silvery silustria - and not a few, diamond armor like my own. Many gripped swords or maces dripping with blood. They gathered among the bodies of the dead, who lay fallen all across the amphitheater's ground. One man, whose bright eyes shone like the diamonds he wore, stood tall and straight as another placed the Lightstone in his hand. This other man smiled a savage smile at me. I gasped to see Kane, or some apparition of him, gazing out at us through the darkness of the ages: He had the same cropped white hair, bold face and blazing, black eyes that I knew so well.

  And then, as quickly as these new ghosts had come into the amphitheater, they were gone.

  'Ah, that was worse than any dream,' Maram said. 'I hope never to see another battlefield, even one from the Elder Ages. If that is indeed what we saw.'

  He looked at me to make sense of the ghost's verses and the haunting tableaux that had appeared before us. But where before I'd had a hundred questions about the past and future, now a thousand tormented me.

  Master Juwain, sitting beside me, rubbed the back of his smooth head as he looked up at the sky. There were clouds in the east, and the stars of the Mother were falling toward the amphitheater's western rim. 'It's growing late, Val,' he told me. 'We've learned much, but I'm afraid you still don't know what you must, do you?'

  'No, not yet,' I told him. I turned to look at Sajagax and Lansar Raasharu, who were watching me.

  'If our need to journey on wasn't so great,' Master Juwain said, 'we could return here tomorrow night, and for the next year of nights, until we had our answers.'

  Hearing this, the ghost again said, 'Aulara, Auliama,'

  I gazed at his wavering form, and I murmured, 'It is late. The others will be worrying about us.'

  I turned to Sar Varald and said to him, 'Will you go back out and inform Sar Baltasar of what we've found here? And that we will be delayed yet a short while longer?'

  Sar Varald bowed his head to me. Then he stood and began walking toward the crack in wall by which we had entered the amphitheater.

  'Aulara, Auliama' the ghost said to me.

  And then, because I could bear it no longer, I stood and asked the question that I, like all men, most wanted answered: 'Who am I?'

  I did not know what to expert. Perhaps, I thought, the ghost would begin reciting more verses or tell me that such a mystery was impossible ever to apprehend. So it surprised me when he beckoned for me to come forward and stand within the staging area. He likewise beckoned Maram, Master Juwain, Atara and Estrella. There was nothing to do but walk out and position ourselves in front of the benches as he indicated.

  'Agalastii!' the ghost said, pointing at my chest, where I had tucked the Lightstone down beneath my armor. I sheathed my sword and drew forth the golden Cup of Heaven. 'Agalastii!'

  And trail, as quick as a breath, the amphitheater again filled with luminous figures. Many of them, it seemed, were kings: I recognized King Waray's fine, dignified face and the much-scarred King Kurshan, who bore the white Tree of Life on his blue surcoat. Other Valari lords stood nearby, next to a man who could only be King Hanniban Dujar of Eanna, for his shield showed blue lions rampant on each of its gold quadrants. King Aryaman looked at me with eyes as blue as Sajagax's, while King Tal of Nedu watched me, too. And so did the kings of the lands ruled by Morjin or who had made alliance with him: a lithe man wearing the bronze, fish-scaled armor of the Hesperuks regarded me with awe, as did another with soft, almond eyes, whom I knew as King Angand of Sunguru from his unique emblem of a white heart with wings. Many chieftains of the Sarni gathered there, too. And then, one by one, as the Lightstone flared brighter in my hand,
they bowed their heads to me and knelt down, touching their knees to the crunching leaves upon the ground.

  And then I looked behind me toward Estrella, who was looking back at me, and through me, as if she had at last found what she had been seeking all her life. And the sun rose over the world. The sun was inside me, shining with a light that I knew could never die. I knew, too, that I could bring it forth and share it with others.

  'Auliama!' the ghost chanted.

  'Lord of Light!' the kings called out as one. And then, from farther away, another voice: 'Lord Valashu!'

  It seemed that I had my answer. Surely I would never be more certain of my fate than I was at that moment. And yet And yet I stood there watching the bright star of the necklace of the Mother set, and I longed to ask still one more question.

  'Lord Valashu!' Sar Varald called out again. I turned to see this thick-thewed knight enter the amphitheater and run toward me. 'They are all gone!'

  'What?' I felt stunned as if by the blow of a mace. 'What is it, Sar Varald?'

  He came panting up to me with his sword drawn, and said yet again, 'They are all gone!'

  At that moment, the star fell behind the amphitheater's dark rock and all the kings kneeling before me returned whence they had come. 'Who is gone?' I said to Sar Varald.

  'Baltasar! Sunjay Naviru! All the Guardians - the Sarni, as well!'

  Hearing this, Sajagax leaped up from his bench and charged toward us gripping his great bow in his hand. Lansar Raasharu and the other knights followed closely behind him. So did Karimah. And I said to the sweating Sar Varald, 'Are you sure they're gone?'