'Why don't we put that to the test?' Kane growled out.
'An excellent idea,' Master Juwain said. 'But how? I believe that the Sea People also told truly: there was a great gelstei on this island. But not the lightstone, it seems.'
I, too, believed what the great whales had said. But I turned to look at the temple even so.
'Why don't you point the sword toward it?' Kane said to me.
I did as he suggested, extending the sword's point directly toward the temple's pillars behind us to the south. But the silver blade, while marvelously full of light, seemed not to brighten even slightly.
'It's not there,' Maram muttered. 'I don't think it's there.'
We all fell silent then, and Liljana took this opportunity to explain our efforts to Lady Nimaiu and the Maiians. And then Master Juwain, still gazing at the sword as he scratched his head, told me, 'It might help if you meditated, Val. This, too, is said of the silustria.' He recited:
To use the silver stone.
The soul must dwell alone;
The mind must be clear,
Unclouded by fear.
As I stood there gazing at the reflection of my dark eyes in the sword's polished contours, I remembered what Master Juwain had once taught me about the silver geistei: that it was the stone of the soul and therefore of the mind which arose out of it. At the moment, with thousands of people staring at me and this unlooked-for blade catching the bright morning sunlight, my mind was anything but clear.
'Why don't you try the seventh light meditation?' Master Juwain suggested.
And so I did. With the bees buzzing in the flower beds down by the lake to the west, I closed my eyes and envisioned a perfect diamond floating in the air. This diamond was just myself. Nothing could mar its incredibly hard substance - certainly not my fear of failing to gain the Lightstone. It was cut with thousands of facets, each one of which let in the sun's rays with perfect clarity, there to gather in its starlike heart: with a brilliant fire that grew brighter and brighter and. . .
'Well, it seems there's nothing.' -Master Juwain said, his voice coming as from far away. 'Nothing at all.'
I opened my eyes to find the blade unchanged.
'It seems the Lightsone really is'nt on this island,' Maram said. And then he fell despondent and muttered, 'Ah, perhaps it's nowhere perhaps your brothers were right that it's been destroyed '
'No, it can't have been,' I said. 'I can almost feel it, Maram. I know it exists, somewhere on Ea.'
And with that, I held the image of the diamond inside myself again even as I held the sword out toward the Garden of Life to the west. But still its blade grew no brighter.
'Again, Val,' Kane encouraged me. 'Try a different direction.'
I slowly nodded my head. And then I lifted the sword toward the smoking mountain to the north, with as little result.
'Again, Val, again.'
Now I lightened my grip around the swan-carved hilt so that the seven diamonds set into the jade there wouldn't cut my hands so painfully. Then I pointed this sword that men had named Awakener toward that part of the world where the Morning Star arises in the east
'It flares!' Kane called out suddenly. 'Do you see how it flares?'
It wasn't enough, I sensed, merely to clear my mind. And so I opened my heart to Alkaladur as I might to my brothers in a rare moment of trust. And the fire there suddenly blazed hotter, both purifying and reforging the secret sword that I had carried inside myself since my birth. I felt the two swords, the inner and outer, resonate like perfectly tuned crystals chiming out harmonies older than time. It was as if they each quickened each other's essence, aligning with each other, a fiery light passing back and forth, down the length of the sword, up and down the length of my spine and then out through my heart along the line of my arms held pointed out away from me and into Alkaladur.
'It flares!' Kane shouted. 'It flares!'
I opened my eyes to see the silver sword glowing faintly as from a light within. When my arms trembled and the sword's point wavered from slightly south of due east, so did its light.
'So, the Lightstone lies somewhere east of us,' Kane said. 'But it seems it's still faraway.'
To the east of us, I thought, lay the Dragon Channel, Surrapam and the great Crescent Mountains. And farther: Eanna, Yarkona and the ancient library at Khaisham. And beyond that, the even greater White Mountains of Sakai and the plains of the Wendrush. And finally, the Morning Mountains of Mesh.
The Maiians, who had witnessed glories of the earth before but never one like this, gathered around gazing at my sword in wonder. After Liljana had explained to Lady Nimaiu about the silver gelstei, she nodded her head and smiled at me, saying, 'It would seem, Sar Valashu, that you won't leave our island with empty hands.'
'Yes, Lady Nimaiu,' I told her, 'and thanks to you.'
'But you still must leave, mustn't you?'
I looked at Atara and Kane and the others of our company, then turned back to her and said, 'Yes, we must.'
'But first, you'll share a meal with us, won't you?'
I glanced up at the sun, now high in the sky. The Snowy Owl would be sailing tomorrow on the morning tide.
'Yes,' I said, 'we'd be honored to dine with you.'
As the Maii began walking off toward the temple and the feast to be held there, she embraced me warmly. Then she touched her wounded finger to Alkaladur's blade and looked at me with her bright, black eyes.
It came time for me put away my new sword. But first I had to draw forth my old one. This I did, and I stared at the pieces of it with a great sadness in my heart. But there was also great joy there, too, and with Lady Nimaiu's permission, I flung the pieces of my broken kalama far out into the lake. They sank into its dark blue depths without a trace. Then I slid Alkaladur into the sheath. It fit perfectly. Tomorrow, I thought, as I rested my hand on its swan-carved hilt, we would journey east, toward the rising sun.
Chapter 29
With a strong wind blowing at our backs, it took us only a day and a night of fast sailing to cross the Dragon Channel to Surrapam. There, the following morning, at Artram, the last of Surrapam's free ports and therefore crowded with ships coming and going through its bustling harbor, we said goodbye to Captain Kharald and the Snowy Owl. After the horses had been led onto the dock, he stood by us telling of the news that had just been brought to him.
'King Kaiman,' he said to us, 'is making a stand near Azam only forty miles from here. Its seems our wheat is needed very badly.'
I watched the lean, hungry-looking Surrapam dockmen unloading the bags of wheat from the Snowy Owl's holds. From nearby smithies down Artram's busy streets came the sounds of hammered steel and the clamor of preparations for war.
'Your swords are needed badly, too,' he said to us. 'Would you be willing to raise them against the enemy that you say you oppose?'
I remembered Thaman's request to the Valari in Duke Rezu's castle; in the months since then, I thought, it had gone very badly for his people.
'Oppose the Hesperuk armies with this,' I asked him, showing him the wooden sword I had carved.
'Some,' he said grimly, looking around at the desperate Surrapamers, 'would fight him with their nails and teeth. But I think you have a better weapon than that piece of wood.'
The day before, when we had first returned to the ship, a chance gust of wind had whipped back my cloak, and Captain Kharald's quick eyes had fallen on Alkaladur's jeweled hilt. Since then, I had taken pains to keep it covered.
'You haven't told me what occurred on the island, and that's your business,' he said to me. 'But it's my business to help save the kingdom, if I can.'
Captain Kharald's new conscience had changed the direction of his efforts but not their vigor: I thought he would pursue his new business with all the cunning and force that he had applied toward making money.
'We failed to gain the Lightstone,' I said to him as Kane prowled about the horses, checking their loads. The others stood near me awaiting their tu
rns to say goodbye as well. 'What more is there to tell?'
'Only you know that, Sar Valashu.'
Because I hoped it might give him courage, I finally confided in him the story of my receiving the Bright Sword. He looked at me with wonder lighting up his hard, blue eyes. 'Such a sword and a Valari knight to wield it would be worth a company of men. And with Kane and your friends behind you, a whole regiment.'
I smiled at this flattery, then told him, 'Even a hundred regiments arrayed against the Red Dragon wouldn't be enough to bring him down. But the finding of the Lightstone might be.'
'Then you intend to continue your quest?'
'Yes, we must.'
'But where will you go? It won't be long before the Hesperuk warships close the Channel.'
Kane, stroking the neck of Alphanderry's white Tervolan, shot me a warning look.
Although our journey lay to the east, we hadn't yet decided its course.
'We'll go wherever we must,' I said to Captain Kharald.
'Well, go in the One's light then,' he told me. 'I wish you well, Valashu Elahad.'
I wished him well, too, and so did the others. And then, after clasping Captain Kharald's rough hand, we mounted our horses and rode north through Artram's narrow streets.
The choice of this direction was Kane's. Ever alert for enemies and Kallimun spies, he spared no effort in trying to throw potential pursuers off our scent. Artram was a rather small city of stout wooden houses and the inevitable shops of sailmakers, ropemakers and sawyers working up great spars to be used in fitting out the many ships docked in her port. There were many salteries, too, preserving the cargoes of cod and char that the fishing boats brought in from the sea. Most of these shops, however, were now empty, their stores having been requisitioned by King Kaiman's quartermasters. In truth, there seemed little food left in the city, and little hope for defeating Hesperu's ravaging armies, either.
Everywhere we went, we saw marks of woe upon the Surrapamers' gaunt faces. It pained me to see their children eyeing our well-fed horses and full saddlebags. Like Thaman and Captain Kharald thev were mostly red of hair, fair of skin and thick of body - or would have been in better times. Though nearly beaten, they carried themselves bravely and well. I resolved that if I ever returned to Mesh, I would speak out strongly for helping them, if only by taking the field against the Red Dragon.
Maram surprised us all by stopping to pull off his rings one by one and giving them to various beggars who crossed our path. After slipping his third ring into the hand of a one-legged old warrior, Kane chided him for such conspicuous largesse. And Maram chided him, saying, 'I can always get more rings, but he'll never get another leg. I regret that I have only ten fingers, with ten rings to give.'
The afternoon found us a few miles outside of the city, in a region of rich black earth and once-prosperous farms. But the King's quarter-masters had come here, too.
Smokehouses that should have been stuffed with hanging hams were empty; barns that should have been full of dried barley and corn held only straw. Most of the grown men having been called to war, or already laid low by it, the fields of ripening wheat were tended by women, children and old men. They paused in their labor to watch us pass, obviously wondering that an armed company should ride unchallenged through their land. But there were few knights or men-at-arms left to stop and question us - or to offer us hospitality. I thought that the widows and worried wives who nodded to us would have been willing to share all they had, even if it was only a thin gruel. The Surrapamers were as generous of heart even as they were sometimes greedy, like Captain Kharald. But that day, we didn't put it to the test: we rode along in silence, exchanging nothing more than a few kind looks with those who watched us.
When we were sure that no one had followed us out of Artram, we turned east toward the mountains. Although the great Crescent Mountains were said to be very tall, we could not see even the tallest of their peaks, evem though they lay only sixty miles away. Surrapam, it seemed, was a land of clouds and mists that obscured the sky - and sometimes even the tops of the trees pushing up into it. Master Juwain told us that here the sun shone only rarely. The Surrapamers' pale, pink skin drank up what little light there was; their thick bodies protected them from the sempiternal coolness clinging like moistened silk to its lush fields. But we were not so fortunate.
That day, a thin drizzle sifted slowly down through the air. Although it was full summer, and the height of Marud at that, its chill made me draw my cloak tightly around me.
And yet, despite the gloom, it was a rich, beautiful land of evergreen forests and emerald fields glowing softly beneath the sky's gentle light. I could iee why tine Hesperuks might wish to conquer it. The farther we rode across its verdant folds, the more it seemed that we went journeying in the wrong direction. But three times that day I drew Alkaladur, and each time its faint radiance pointed us east. And east we must continue, I thought, even though great battles and the call to arms lay behind us.
We camped that night in a stand of spruce trees beside a swift-running stream in waters were dear and sweet, and full of trout, nine of which Alphanderry and Kane managed to catch for our dinner. Maram summoned forth a fire from some moist sticks, white Liljana set to with her pots and pans. It was the first time the had cooked a full meal for us since before Varkall.
We ate our fried fish and cornbread in the silence of those soft woods. We had cheese and blackberries for dessert for these shiny little fruits grew abundantly in thickets along the roads we had ridden. Bv the time Matter Juwain had brewed up a pot of Sunguran tea purchased in one of Artram's shops, we were ready to discuss the jourrney that still lay before us.
"Well, I had hoped the Lightstone might have come to Artram,' Maram said as he patted his well-filled belly, 'Though why I should have expected to find the Cup of Heaven in that sad little city not even the leldra know.'
I sat by the fire with my new sword unsheathed. Just to be sure that we had traveled in the right direction, I held it pointing toward Artram to the west. But the only light in its gleaming length came from the fire's flickering orange flames.
'No, I'm afraid it still lies east of us,' Master luwain said. 'And I think it's more than a coincidence that Khaisham lies directly along the line which Val's sword has shown us.'
It was not the first time he had said this. Ever since the Island of the Swans, when it became clear that our journey might take us as far as Khaisham and the great library there, he had continually gazed off in its direction with a new excitement in his usually calm, gray eyes.
'I still don't see how the Lightstone could be there,' Maram said. 'The library has been searched a hundred times, hasn't it?'
'Yes, it has,' Master Juwain told him. 'But it's said to be vast perhaps too vast ever to be searched fully. The number of books it holds is said to be thousands and thousands.'
Kane, sitting by Alphanderry who was tuning his mandolet, smiled gleefully and said,
'So I've been to the library once, many years ago. The number of its hooks is thousands of thousands. Many of them have never even been read.'
A few idea had suddenly come to Master Juwain, who sat rubbing his hands together as if in anticipation of a feast. 'Then perhaps on of them holds the Lightstone.'
'You mean, holds knowledge about it, don't you, sir?' Maram asked.
'No, I mean the Cup of Heaven itself. Perhaps one of the books has had its pages hollowed out to fit a small golden cup. And so escaped being discovered in any search.'
'Now there's a thought,' Maram said.
'It's as I've always told you,' Master Juwain said to him, 'When you open a hook, you never know what you'll find there.'
We talked for quite a while about the library and the great treasures it guarded: not just the books, of course, but the numerous paintings, sculptures, works of jewelry, glittering masks studded with unknown gelstei and other artifacts, many of which dated from the Age of Law - and whose purpose neither the Librarians nor any one else ha
d been able to fathom. For Master Juwain, a journey to the library was an opportunity of a lifetime. And the rest of us were eager to view this wonder, too.
Even Atara, who had little patience for books, seemed excited at the prospect of beholding so many of them.
'I think there's no other choice then,' she said. 'We should go to this library, and see what we see.'
I looked at her as if to ask if she had seen us successfully completing our quest there, but she slowly shook her head.
'There's no other choice,' Master Juwain said. 'At least none better that I can think of.'
And so, despite Maram's objections that Khaisham lay five hundred miles away across unknown lands, we decided to journey there unless my sword pointed us elsewhere or we found the Lightstone first.
To firm up our resolve, we broke out the brandy and sat sipping it by the fire. This distillation of grapes ripened in the sun far away warmed us deep inside. Alphanderry began playing, and much to everyone's surprise, Kane joined him in song. His singing voice, which I had never heard, was much like the brandy itself: rich, dark, fiery and aged to a bittersweet perfection - and quite beautiful in its own way. He sang to the stars far above us which we could not see; he sang to the earth that gave us form and life and would someday take it away. When he had finished I sat staring at my .word as if 1 might find my reflection there.
'What do you see, Val?' Master Juwain asked.
'That's hard to say,' I told him. 'It's all so strange. Here we are drinking this fine brandy - and it's as if the vintner who made it left the taste of his soul in it. In the air, there's the sound of battle even though it's a quiet night. And the earth upon which we sit: can you feel her heart beating up through the ground? And not just her heart, but everyone's and everything's: the nightingale's and the wood vole's, and even that of the Lord Librarian in Khaisham half a world away. It beats and beats, and there's a song there - the same strange song that the stars sing. And truly, it's a cloudy night, but the stars are always there, in their spirals and sprays of light, like sea foam, like diamonds, like dreams in the mind of a child. And they never cease forming up and delighting: it's like Flick whirling in the Lokilani's wood. And it's all part of one pattern. And we could see the whole of it from any part if only we opened our eyes, if only we knew how to look. Strange, strange.'
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