TORRULLIN DID NOT go directly to Torrke. En route he changed his mind and entered the Dome.
The Dragon ogive chimed and the Kaval looked up, expecting Tristan, and stiffened when Torrullin marched in. He came to a halt at the conference slab.
Quilla said, “Enchanter?”
Torrullin leaned on his hands. “Much went wrong, and for that I am sorry.” He closed his eyes and straightened. “Quilla, do you remember the chant for Elixir?”
“Of course.”
“Good. You might need it. Erin, can you create a pathway from an ordinary place to an extraordinary one without it being marked by others?”
She stared at him. “I need a bit more than that.”
“A path from a place on Echolone to the Avior door.”
“Jeez. Why?”
“Can it be done?”
“How long have I got?”
“A few hours and no one must see you or your results.”
“May I ask why again?”
“Someone needs a push through that door.”
Quilla shuffled around the table. “One time entry; surely it cannot be used again?”
“I cannot use it again, but someone else might.”
“Nemisin?”
“Yes.”
Erin’s eyes rounded. “I’ll do what I can.”
Quilla murmured, “Nemisin could get out, as you did.”
“If he does, which I doubt, he will not be the same man.”
“How do you intend luring him to Echolone?”
Torrullin perched on the slab, and filled them in.
He left them stunned as he made his way back to the ogive and a confrontation with Tianoman.
Valaris
Torrke
WHILE VALLEUR RESTORED order to Menllik after the invasion from Digilan, Tianoman paced the courtyard like a madman.
He snarled under his breath and no one dared approach, not even Aislinn, and she kept Lunik away as well. She was on the balcony when Torrullin alighted, and almost fainted in her relief. Now sense would be made. She hastened down and then halted.
Tianoman glared at his grandfather.
Torrullin gripped him by his tunic and transported away with him.
Aislinn shuddered.
HE DID NOT TAKE them far - the Graveyard - and there directed Tianoman roughly to the crypt that contained the mortal remains of Taranis and Millanu.
“I know what it is like to lose a father. Anger is first, then denial and only later does grief set in. You cannot talk about it, cannot explain yourself to others, and you do not want anyone to talk to you. You want to be left alone. And you also want to blame someone.”
“I know who to blame,” Tianoman growled.
“Blame me. I am responsible for what Tymall became, and it led to his death.”
“I do not want to talk to you.”
“Then listen. Imagine it was Aislinn being raped.”
“He wouldn’t do that!”
“If there was reason, he would have, and without compunction. He has done so many times in the past, and family and loyalty and control counted for little. You care about your wife, and had someone attempted rape, you would come close to murder in the aftermath. Imagine that person does not stop, and her honour, her pride, her self-worth is at stake - what would you do?
“I care about Elianas, and it does not matter how, and I wanted to kill Tymall because of intent and deed, and Elianas stopped me. The man understood what it would do to me to kill my son. And then there was no choice. He had to decide. His honour, pride and self-worth or degradation. No man or woman would choose the latter, no matter who it harms afterward. As you now blame him, no doubt I will soon enough, once the horror of what happened in Digilan fades and all I remember is that my son is dead. But it is not this day. And I hope time will do the opposite for you, and you might forgive.”
Tianoman stared at him.
“Now, however, you need put aside personal emotions, for the Valleur as a nation face the gravest crisis yet.”
Tianoman blinked.
“I assume everyone made themselves scarce when your mood became apparent, or you would know what has been stolen from under your nose.”
“Stolen? You mean my father’s life.”
“Something worse. Your Throne.”
Tianoman paled. “What?”
“Check. I am behind you.”
Tianoman jerked away, and transported back to the Keep. Torrullin was an instant behind.
THE THRONE’S SPACE was empty.
“Who did this? My father?”
“Nemisin.”
“How?”
“He is first Vallorin. It harks to him.”
“What will he do?”
“Tristan no doubt told you Nemisin wants to take my place, and he is using the Throne as defence. As long as he sits on it, I cannot touch him. It protects him.”
“The Valleur will regard me as weak. I cannot remain Vallorin if another controls the seat of power.”
“Exactly.”
Tianoman sank into a nearby chair and sat with his head hanging. “What do I do?”
“At moonrise this night on Echolone there is a challenge we need face. You, me and Nemisin. One of us will walk away as victor.”
Tianoman lifted his head, his gaze stark. “I cannot compete in that kind of arena.”
“Yet you must.”
“What form does this challenge take?”
“Nemisin will sunder worlds to get what he wants, using Cassy’s network and more, and thus I accepted a bloodless game of brinkmanship. He claims the Throne as his, I as mine, and yet it belongs to you. We shall each have three opportunities to call it. Whoever it settles with …”
Tianoman was white. “It hasn’t been with me long enough.”
“It is aware of Valleur prosperity and the greater future. It cannot choose Nemisin unless it is sentimental, which I doubt, and it cannot choose me, because it knows I am Elixir. My duty is elsewhere. That leaves you, the Vallorin to take the Valleur into a bright future without burdens and issues.”
“And if Nemisin wins?”
“Then there is a huge problem.”
“And if you win?”
“Same. You have to want it, you have to convince it and, Tian, you must mean it with all you are and hope for.”
The young man rose to pace again like a madman, this time without the anger. “And Nemisin will step aside gracefully?”
“On the contrary, and that is why I chose Echolone, and have put Erin on creating an unseen path Sabian may …”
“To the Avior door. The Path? Will that work?”
“I bloody hope so.”
A reluctant smile. “And Sabian?”
“That choice is his.”
“What have you promised to do if you lose?”
“I shall fade into obscurity on Avaelyn with Elianas, leaving enough of Elixir out there to prevent future voids.”
Tianoman lifted a brow. “How long can that last?”
“Long enough to lull Nemisin should he walk from the challenge the victor. If you win, both of us vanish.”
“And how long will that last?”
“Nemisin probably will not escape the Path of Shades, and I shall be otherwise occupied for some while before sticking my nose in where it does not belong.”
“I need to think.”
“Yes, and prepare. Look at your wife and son and see what is at stake. If we pull this off, there need not be a drawn out war and, Tian, Elianas will be there. Prepare for that as well.”
Tianoman gazed at him.
“In the aftermath there is one loose end you need deal with - Cassy. She will not be easy. She is in this up to her ancient Valleur neck, but her fate I leave in your hands.”
“Gods,” Tianoman muttered, and started pacing again.
Torrullin vanished.
Chapter 79
A summons answered isn’t necessarily duty.
~ Anonymous
&nb
sp; Echolone
TUNDRA GREEN WIND.
That was what this place was called, and followed the established tradition of three words that described. As night curtained the sky from the land, the last vestiges of the great green plain darkened into charcoal before becoming as black as the night enveloping them. The wind rose in a whistle with terrible strength, buffeting cloaks and hair, tugging at anything loose. Swords rattled. Cloth snapped loudly.
Great events needed no summons, and this was no exception. Tristan aided that premise in the short time available to him. Shamans from many Echolone tribes were in attendance, moving among villagers who flocked in to witness the outcome of an epic challenge. Only recently admitted to the ranks of the universal body that was worlds in communication, they nonetheless grasped the result held ramifications even for them. They worked closely now with the Kaval, Beacon and the Vallorin of Valaris; they needed the status quo.
There were others on the field also. Beaconites resident on Echolone for the duration of the mining operation, the entire Kaval, Elders from Luvanor, Akhavar and Valaris, as well as Teighlar, Dechend and a fair number of Senlu. Quilla had spoken the words in the Emperor’s ear that brought him onto the wind-ridden tundra in the dark of night.
All of those were in minority when compared to the real host. Valleur in their thousands came. Some sensed a call, some was due to Tristan’s machinations, and others followed Elders. All understood the importance of the event.
Fire torches dotted the landscape, sparks swirling into the air upon the contrary wind. The smell of smoke and expectation surrounded the gathering. A low murmur was the amalgam of many voices in low conversation.
In the centre of it, surrounded by a ring of low torches to mark out the perimeter, the Throne hunkered, gold flashing in the flickering firelight.
Tristan stood nearby, waiting. He removed his cloak despite the cold, for the flapping cloth would hamper him if the challenge descended into physical battle. His right hand was hooked in the loop beside the hilt of his sword. He expected it would go wrong.
He prayed Valleur numbers would aid his cousin Tianoman, Vallorin. He believed they supported their Vallorin in every thought. He hoped they did, or he had miscalculated. If Torrullin won, Tianoman would lose more than the Throne. If they backed Nemisin, First Father of the Valleur, the nation as a whole would never be the same.
Too much depended on three voices calling three times to the squatting seat. He hated that thing for having so much influence. As Quilla earlier murmured to him, no object should contain magic, magic should be in the mind only, and for once he wholeheartedly agreed. He stared balefully at it, and prayed in silence.
In the east there was an arc of light. Echolone’s moon was rising. Within minutes of it being marked, silence descended on the host.
Tianoman arrived first.
He blinked when he noted the gathering, and then bowed in their direction. A mighty roar went up, and he smiled. Tristan sighed. Perhaps it would work.
Tianoman approached and came to a halt before him. “I think you are responsible for the gathered Valleur.”
“One voice, cousin. There is strength in that.”
“Agreed. And you are worried I will not carry the night.”
“I am worried Nemisin gets his way. As a nation we will be in great tribulation after. This could lead to civil war.”
“You don’t mention Torrullin.”
“Torrullin won’t last the night, Tian, whether he wins or loses.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Concentrate on what lies ahead, cousin; we can deal with that problem after.”
Tianoman was about to remonstrate, and then saw the wisdom. Yes, focus. Absolute focus. But, “Is that why Elianas comes?”
Tristan nodded.
Tianoman stared at him a moment longer and then moved to stand before the Throne. Gradually he blotted everything out and discovered the kind of focus that enabled huge feats. It occurred to him as a final contrary thought, he would never again be this absolute in a single task.
A stir in the gathered indicated new arrivals.
Nemisin, resplendent in the royal blue and gold of the Valleur, alighted and bowed to the host. The silence of uncertainty greeted him. He smiled and straightened to prowl his way to Tianoman’s side. Cassiopin alighted, similarly garbed, ignoring everyone, and then Sabian with a wry twist on his face.
Sabian approached Tristan. “He said this night he is king again, therefore the ostentation.” Clearly Sabian desired to divest Nemisin of his royal threads.
Tristan lifted a shoulder. “Let him be the showman. Maybe it will distract him.”
Sabian swirled his tongue over his teeth. “You have a point.”
He smiled like a predator, and Tristan shivered, wondering if Sabian would hark to the deal. He had a feeling Sabian would remove Nemisin from the field no matter what the outcome, and was not too concerned. It occurred to him the Valleur would definitely enter a period of strife without a Vallorin at the helm, especially when the Throne was in contention. He said nothing, for that would be easier to deal with than Nemisin controlling every thought and deed.
Nemisin came to rest beside Tianoman. “Tianoman Valla.”
“Nemisin.”
“Are you ready for this, boy?”
Tianoman did not move. “I have more to lose. I have never been more ready.”
A breezy laugh beside him. “Excellent. I enjoy a genuine challenge.”
Tianoman said, “You are revered as our First Father, the maker of the Valleur, and that would never have changed. Why do you now seek this?”
“Power is addictive. Ask your Lord Sorcerer.”
“Torrullin was never that addicted.”
“I beg to differ. Is he not the One?”
“He is the greatest healer ever known. Unselfishly. That is nobility, not addiction.”
A voluble sigh sounded. “Rose-tinted, I see. Boy, he is more than a healer; he is a warmonger. The universe will not be safe until he is locked away.”
Tianoman smiled tightly. “Sabian did not tell you everything, I see. I hope you can cope with the fallout if Elixir is ‘locked away’.”
Nemisin smile became fixed. “And you can?”
“I would not deny him. There would be no issue.”
Tianoman paced away and went to stand beside his cousin and Sabian. Nemisin remained before the Throne, while Cassy stalked the perimeter as a fire cat. She was in high dudgeon and only super control prevented her screaming out.
Then Torrullin arrived.
The Valleur went wild.
Tristan shivered, and Tianoman held tight to his sense of focus.
Torrullin studied the situation and faced the gathered beyond the perimeter of fire. He lifted his voice and called out, “Valleur!”
More wild acclaim.
“Gods,” Tristan said under his breath, and began praying again.
“Valleur, we are here to settle the issue of the Throne, and I shall state my preference.”
Silence arrived.
“I am supposed to be impartial or at least partial to myself, if you push me for a choice.” Torrullin stalked the ring, frowning Cassy out of his way at one point.
She glared at him, but moved.
“I am not impartial! I have had my turn as Vallorin and Nemisin has had his! Tianoman is Vallorin and shall continue being Vallorin. He is your ruler, he is your future and his son is heir. Nemisin cannot offer you the longevity of a new future in a new heir and I cannot do that either. I demand you gift him your every thought, that you grant him all the support you can muster, and look ahead to every tomorrow!” He paused, and then smiled. “Valleur, he is my grandson and I love him, and I want him on the Throne - don’t you?”
Wild, wild acclaim. “Tian! Tian! Tian!”
Torrullin bowed and moved to the gathering in the centre.
Nemisin was there. “You are stacking the odds.”
A stare. “And you have
n’t?”
“My turn,” and Nemisin moved to head out.
“You do not get to speak,” Torrullin said. “You had your turn in past ages.”
“Watch me.”
“Nemisin, make another move, and it ends right now.”
A moment of indecision, and he must have read something in Torrullin’s eyes, for Nemisin murmured, “Very well.”
Torrullin’s gaze shifted to Tianoman. “How are you?”
Tianoman glanced at the host beyond the firelight. “You incited them on purpose.”
“The last thing I need is the Throne under me. I believe you are the brightest future.” He closed in. “I am aware how angry you are, and grief is a force waiting to be unleashed, but I am going to embrace you. I want to do so because I love you, but I also want them to know that I love you and my support is with you in every way.”
Tianoman moved into that embrace without hesitation. “I embrace you because I love you also.”
They grinned at each other as they moved apart, and this time the acclaim beyond the fire was at fever pitch. Shamans shivered as they understood how much power lay in a Valleur host. The Kaval glanced at each other.
Nemisin growled, “Low blow, Torrullin.”
“Deal with it.”
“Shall we begin?”
“Elianas isn’t here yet. We wait for him.”
“Ah, the lover boy. How sweet.”
“You have Cassy, Tian has Tristan. I need someone to pick up my pieces as well.”
“Ah, you reckon there will be pieces. How enlightening.”
An enigmatic stare. “Push, Nemisin, I dare you.”
Nemisin laughed and lifted his hands in mocking surrender. “I am not doing anything.” He laughed again and then wandered off to snag Cassy. They fell into low conversation.
Torrullin glanced at Sabian, who nodded. Torrullin then made his way to the Kaval, standing as a group to the left of the Throne. “Spread out more. Be the voice of reason if this goes to hell. Use this chant - ali tremen ke - to appease the Valleur if they unleash the power of one voice. It means ‘hearth and home’ and is in the ancient dialect only Vallorins can know. They will listen, it will speak to them, and they will return to their homes. Say it as many times as you need to, for it does no harm.”
Lore of Sanctum Omnibus Page 128