With Liljana translating for us, she began conversing with me: 'You bring strange things to our land,' she said. 'Are suchlike common in yours?'
'Yes,' I admitted, 'most warriors, at least the knights, are accoutered thusly.'
Liljana hesitated a moment in her translation because she could find no words in Lady Nimaiu's language for knight or warrior. And so she simply spoke them as I did, leaving them untranslated.
'And what is warrior?' Lady Nimaiu asked me.
'A warrior,' I said, hesitating as well, 'is one who goes to war.'
'And what is war?'
Now the six women attending Lady Nimaiu pressed closer to hear my answer as did Piliri and many other of the Maii. I traded swift, incredulous looks with Master Juwain and Maram. And then I said, 'That might be hard to tell.'
I looked around at the gentle Maii, who stood regarding us with great curiosity but no fear. Could it be possible that they knew nothing of war? That the bloody history of the last ten thousand years had completely passed by their beautiful island?
As I stood there wondering what to say to Lady Nimaiu, she again touched the hilt of my sword. 'Is this an accouterment of war, then?'
'Yes,' I said, 'it is.'
'May I see it?'
I nodded my head as I drew what was left of my sword. Its broken hilt shard gleamed brightly in the light of the late afternoon sun.
'May I hold it, Sar Valashu?'
I did not want to let her hold my sword. Would I so readily give into her hands my soul? Nevertheless, upon remembering why we had come to her island, I fulfilled her request for the sake of a little good will.
'It's heavy,' she announced as her fingers closed-around the hilt. 'Heavier than I would have thought.'
I did not explain that if the blade had been whole, it would have been heavier still.
But Lady Nimaiu, whose bright eyes missed very little, seemed to understand this as she gazed at the ragged end of my sword where it had been broken.
'Of what metal is this made?' she asked me, tapping the blade.
'It's called steel, Lady Nimaiu.'
'What is this thing called, then?'
'It is a sword,' I said.
'And what is sword for?'
Before I could answer, she moved her finger from the flat of the blade and started to run it across its edge. 'Be careful!' I gasped. But it was too late: the kalama's razor-sharp steel sliced open her finger.
'Oh!' she exclaimed, instinctively clasping the wounded tip against her breast to stanch the bleeding. 'It's sharp - so very sharp!'
She gave me back my sword while one of the women dose to her tended her cut finger. To the murmurs of grave disapproval spreading outward among the crowds around us, she explained that although the Mail used their bronze knives to shape wood and shear their sheep, none were so keen of edge that they cut flesh at the faintest touch.
'Oh, I see,' she said sadly as she held up her finger. The white wool of her kittle was now stained with her blood. 'This is what sword is for.'
I felt my own blood burning my ears with shame. I tried to explain a little about warfare then; I tried to tell her that all the peoples of Ea stood ready to protect their lands by going to war.
She spoke her amazement to Liljana, who continued to make her words understandable: 'But what do your lands need protecting from?' she asked me. 'Are the wolves that fierce where you live?'
Behind me Maram muttered, 'No, but the Ishkans are.'
Liljana either didn't hear this or chose to ignore him. And then I took upon myself the task of trying to explain how we Valari had to protect ourselves from our enemies - and each other.
I spoke for quite a while. But what I said made no sense to Lady Nimaiu - and, in truth, little to me. After I had finished my account of the world's woes, she stood there shaking her head as she said, 'How strange that brothers feel they must protect themselves from each other! What strange lands you have seen where men take up swords because they are afraid their neighbors will as well.'
'It. . . is not as simple as that,' I said.
'But why would men go to war?' Lady Nimaiu said. 'For pride and plunder, so you say. But do your men have no pride in anything other than their swords? Are your men thieves that they would take from each other what is not theirs?'
The Red Dragon is much worse than a thief, I thought. And he would take from men their very souls.
'It is not so simple as that,' I repeated. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and continued, 'What would your people do if two neighbors disputed the border of their lands and one of them made a sword to claim his part?'
While Liljana translated this, Lady Nimaiu looked at me thoughtfully. And then she said, 'We Maiians do not claim land as your people do. All of our island belongs to all of us. And so there is always enough for all.'
'As it was in the ancient days,' Liljana said quietly, pausing a moment in her translating duties.
I took a breath and asked Lady Nimaiu, 'But what if one of your men coveted one of his neighbor's sheep and tried to claim it as his own?'
'If his need was that great, then likely his neighbor would give it to him.'
'But what if he didn't?' I pressed her. 'What if he slew his neighbor, and then threatened others as well?'
What I had suggested plainly horrified Lady Nimaiu - and the other Maiians, too. Her face fell white, and her jaw trembled slightly as she gasped out, 'But none of us could ever do such a thing!'
'But what if someone did?'
'Then we would take his sword from him and break it, as yours is broken.'
'Swords are not so easy to take,' I told her. 'You would have to forge swords of your own to take such a man's sword.'
'No, we would never do that,' she said. 'We would simply surround him until he couldn't move.'
'But then many of your people would die.'
'Yes, they would,' she admitted. 'But such a price would have to be paid if one of us fell shaida.'
Now it was my turn to be puzzled as Liljana mouthed this Maiian word that had no simple translation into our tongue. After some further discussion between Lady Nimaiu and Liljana, I was given to understand that shaida meant something like the madness of one who willfully disregards the natural harmonies of life.
'But what would you do with such a shaida man once you had disarmed him?' I asked. 'Slay him with his own sword then?'
'Oh, no - we would never do that!'
'But if you didn't, he might just make another sword and more of your people would die.'
I started to tell her that once war between peoples had begun, it was very hard to stop. And then Lady Nimaiu said, 'But it could never come to war, don't you see?
Such a man would be given to the Lady, and all would be restored.'
I stood there confused. I didn't know what she meant by 'given' to the Lady.'
Wasn't she Lady Nimaiu, the Lady of the Lake? And what would she do with such a murderous man?
After some rounds of Liljana passing our words back and forth to each other. Lady Nimaiu smiled sadly and said to me, 'I am the Lady of the Lake, as you've been told.
But I am not the Lady, of course. It is to Her that we would give your sword-making man.'
So saying, she pointed above the temple at the smoking mountain across the lake.
She said that anyone who fell shaida would be dropped into its fiery cone.
'The Lady takes back everyone into herself,' she explained. 'But some sooner than others.'
'Is this Lady the mountain, then?' I said, trying to understand.
My question seemed to amuse her, as it did many of the other Maii, who gathered around laughing softly. And then Lady Nimaiu smiled and told me, 'Oh, no, the mountain is only the Lady's mouth - and only her mouth of fire at that. She has many others.'
She went on to explain that the wind was the Lady's breath and the rain her tears; when the ground shook, she said, the Lady was laughing, and when it quaked so violently that mountains moved, t
hat was the Lady's anger.
'The Maii,' she said, stretching out her wounded finger toward her people, 'are the Lady's eyes and hands. And that is why none of us would ever make a sword.'
I paused to look at the many men and women all around us, And then I asked, 'And does this Lady have a name?'
'Of course she does,' Lady Nimaiu said. 'Her name is Ea.'
At the utterance of this single word common to both our languages, the earth seemed to tremble slightly. Smoke continued pouring out of the cone of the mountain above us, but whether this signaled the Lady Ea's gladness at our arrival or displeasure, I couldn't tell.
We had a hundred questions for Lady Nimaiu and the Maiians, as they had for us.
They wanted to know everything about our peoples and the lands from which we came. They were fascinated with Liljana's blue figurine and her ability to shape the words of one language into that of another. But they saved their greatest wonder toward the answering of single question.
'Why,' Lady Nimaiu said to me, 'have you come to our island?
My first impulse was simply to blurt out that we had joined the great quest to find the Lightstone. But Maram, fearing my artlessness, moved up behind me and whispered in my ear, 'Be careful, Val. If the Lightstone is here, it's surely inside the temple. If we tell them that we're seeking what must be their greatest treasure, they'll likely give us to this bloodthirsty Lady of theirs.'
He advised telling Lady Nimaiu that we were on a mission to aid the besieged Surrapam and that we had stopped on the Island of the Swans to hunt for fresh meat to replace our dwindling stores. We should wait, he said, and contrive a way to enter the temple. Then we could determine if it really did house the Lightstone and devise a plan for its taking.
Maram was more cunning than I, yet not every situation called for this virtue. The Maiians, sensing something devious in Maram's quiet speech, which Liljana failed to translate, began murmuring among themselves and shifting about the square restlessly. I was reluctant to tell Maram's little lies and even more so to say anything that might get us pushed into a pool of fire. And so I looked at Lady Nimaiu and said, 'We're on a quest.. '
A low groan from Maram behind me made me pause in my answer. And then I continued, 'We're on a quest to find truth, beauty and goodness. And the love of the One that is said to find its perfect manifestation somewhere in the world.'
My words, after Liljana had rendered them into the Maiians' tongue, seemed to please them. Although I had spoken only vaguely of the Lightstone's essence, what I had said was true enough.
Lady Nimaiu, who was now smiling, slowly nodded her head. And then she asked,
'But why should you think that you would find these things on our island, where none but the Maii have walked since the Lady stepped out of the starry night at the beginning of time?'
Liljana needed no prompting from me to answer this question. With more than a little pride flushing her intelligent face, she recounted the finding of her blue gelstei and her conversation with the Sea People.
Again, Lady Nimaiu nodded her head slowly. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to her that a woman should speak with whales.
'Thank you,' she said to Liljana. 'You have told us much about yourselves, though much more needs to be told. And perhaps tomorrow it shall be. Until then, we invite you to remain here as our guests.'
When a king extended such an invitation, it was really a command. But as Liljana had told us, the Maii had no kings, nor even queens. I sensed that Lady Nimaiu was giving us the freedom to go or remain as we pleased. And so we decided to remain.
After that, Lady Nimaiu dismissed the crowds of her people with a few kind words.
We said goodbye to Piliri, who returned home to eat her evening meal with her family. Lady Nimaiu then took her leave of us, and went back into the temple with five of her attendants as she had come. The sixth attendant, a rather homely but voluptuous young woman named Lailaiu, was charged with the task of settling us in for the night.
She showed us to one of the out-buildings adjoining the west side of the temple but not really part of it. There we were given spacious rooms in the guest quarters. We were given food and drink as well: hot bread and white ewe's cheese, blackberries and plums and sweet salmon which the Maiians pulled from the rivers near the sea and smoked in juniper and honey. Our wine was rich, dark and red. After our feast, served by other temple attendants, Lailaiu returned to fill the sunken marble bath with hot water. She brought us herb-scented soaps and insisted on using them to lather up our worn flesh. All of us, even Kane, yielded to such an unexpected delight.
Everything about the Maiians' dwellings and handiworks seemed designed to delight the senses. No corner of our rooms was unadorned, from the marble moldings carved with bold traceries to the tapestries and carpets that lined the walls and floors. Even the blankets that covered us that cool night, woven from the marvelously soft underhair of the Maiians' goats, were embroidered with brightly colored threads showing roses and violets, the two flowers most beloved of the Lady Ea.
'Ah, this is a fine place,' Maram said, after he had collapsed onto his bed with his seventh glass of wine. 'I've never seen a fairer land. So rich, so sweet.'
'Even Alonia isn't as rich as this island,' Liljana agreed. 'At least not outside the nobles' palaces.'
'Yes,' I said bitterly, 'the Maiians have time for creating such beauty since it seems they spend none of it waging war.'
'Who would have war when he could have beauty and love instead?' Maram wondered. 'And love, mark my words, is at hand here. Did you see the fire in Lailaiu's eyes as she sponged the soap from me?'
'Be careful,' Master Juwain warned as he settled onto his bed with his book in his hand. 'Fire burns.'
'Ah, no, no, not this,' Maram said thickly. 'It's the sweetest of flames; it's the radiance of the sun on beautiful summer day; it's the fire of a young, red, full-bodied wine and finest and fruitiest blush; it's .. .'
He might have gone on in a like vein for quite a while. But then Kane, pacing the room like a caged tiger, scowled at him and said, 'Your Lailaiu looks a fruit that's never been picked. What do you think the Maiians do with men who take such from the vine before it's ripe? Likely they give them to the Lady. Now there's a fire you won't find so sweet.'
His words suddenly sobered Maram, who sat muttering into his wine. While Alphanderry took out his mandolet and Flick began spinning in anticipation of his music, Atara came over to Maram and laid her hand on his shoulder consolingly.
And then she asked the question that puzzled all of us: 'Who are these people? They certainly look Valari.'
'They are certainly Valari,' Master Juwain said, looking up from his book. 'The question is, of which tribe? That of Aryu? Or that of Elahad?'
He went on to say that the Maiian's ancestors must be some of the Lost Valari: either the followers of Aryu after he had stolen the Lightstone or the companions of Arahad who had set out on the Hundred Year March to search for it.
'The Lost Valari, yes, that seems possible,' I said to Master Juwain. 'But how could they be of the tribe of Aryu?'
Here Kane stopped his pacing and came over to me. 'Do you remem-ber what I told you after we killed the Grays? How Aryu had also stolen a varistei, which his people used to change their forms to suit Thalu's cold and mists? So, what if some of his tribe repented Aryu's crime? What if they fell out with their brethren before the varistei was used? If they fled Thalu to the south and came to land here, they would still look Valari, eh?'
'I'm afraid that seems the most likely explanation of the Maiians' origins,' Master Juwain agreed.
I sat on my bed staring at a tapestry showing a great oak tree in full leaf; I didn't quite want to admit that the Maiians were really Aryans who still retained the Valari form.
'But if what you say is true,' I said to Master Juwain, 'then how is it that the Aryans let the Maiians live here in peace so many thousands of years?'
'That we may never kno,' Maste
r Juwain said. 'Perhaps fortune favored them.
Perhaps a curse was laid upon the Maiians and this island.'
'It would have to have been a mighty curse,' Liljana said, 'to have kept the Aryans from plundering it'
We gathered around debating the mystery of the Maiians as the night deepened and their city fell quiet around us. And then Atara, who could often see things quite clearly with the natural keenness of her mind no less than with her second sight, twined her golden hair about her finger as she said, 'If Sartan Odinan sought a safe land in which to hide the Lightstone, he couldn't have found better than this lost island.'
That brought us back to the temple, which stood towering above us in the starlight only fifty yards to the east. We were all sure that the Lightstone must be waiting for us within its gleaming marble walls.
'We must find our way inside,' Maram said again. 'We must see if the cup is there.'
'And then what?' I asked him. I didn't like the greedy light that brightened his eyes just then.
'And then? Ah, I suppose we'll have to trade the Maiians something for it. Your shield, perhaps. Or your sword. They seemed interested in anything made of steel.'
I didn't believe that the Maiians would simply trade the Cup of Heaven for a broken sword, and I told Maram this.
'Hmmm, perhaps not,' he murmured as he pulled at his beard. 'But what if they don't know the cup's true value? After all these centuries, they might have lost the knowledge of what it is.'
'But what if they do know what it is?'
The Lightstone Page 62