The Lightstone
Page 98
He stood at the center of the circular area staring at us across some seventy feet of the bare stone floor, and his guards stood there, too.
'No, hold here,' I said to Maram,' 'Let's see what he's waiting for.'
A moment later, six red-robed men walked through the gate, down the line of the guards posted there and crossed the room to join Morjin. They were of various ages, heights and colorings, but they all had the long, lean, hungry look of wolves.
'The Red Priests!' Kane snarled out. 'Damn their eyes!'
Even as he said this, I felt a sharp stab of despair at the base of my skull, and men that I dreaded even more than these drinkers of blood entered the room. There were thirteen of them, all wearing hooded gray cloaks over their gray garments. Their faces were as gray as rotting flesh, while their eyes - what little we could see of them
-were like cold gray marbles empty of life. There was nothing inside them, I thought, except a ravenous desire to drink our lives and our very souls.
'Oh, no!' Maram muttered as he stood trembling beside me. 'The Stonefaces!'
Liljana held one hand protectively over Daj's heart, while she gripped her gelstei in the other. She watched the thirteen Grays take their place inside the circle with Morjin. She said, 'It is they. I'm almost certain it was they who gave us away.'
Hearing this, Maram whispered, 'Then perhaps our friends are still safe. Perhaps they'll find a way to -'
'Hold your noise!' Kane snapped at him. 'And guard your thoughts!'
The leader of the Grays, a tall man with a pitiless contempt stamped into his stony face, turned his cold gaze upon me. A terrible fear suddenly pinned me back against the pillar as if a dozen lances of ice had pierced my body.
And then Liljana brought her little figurine up to her head, engaging his mind, fighting him and his dreadful company for all our sakes, and the lances suddenly snapped as I felt a new life returning to my chilled limbs.
'Liljana,' I said, looking at her. 'Can you hold them?'
Liljana stood valiantly facing the Grays. Her wise, willful eyes fought off their soul-sucking stares. Sweat poured down her deeply creased face. And she gasped out, 'I think I can ... for a while.'
Mighty was the power of the blue gelstei, I thought, and mighty was the mind of Liljana Ashvaran. A surge of hope shot through me then. But not for us: I could only pray that Atara and the others would discover that we had been taken and that Liljana's valor would give them time to flee Argattha.
And then, as if Morjin could read my mind, he turned toward the still-open gate. His gloat of victory disfigured his fine face. My heart almost broke to see two guards dragging Atara into the throne room in chains. Another likewise led Master Juwain toward the ritual area. And then five men, each pulling at long chains like leads on a mad dog, strained to jerk the furiously struggling Ymiru into the room. Five more men followed him with chains pulled tight around the shackles binding his huge wrist, neck and waist. His black Saryak's robe had been stripped from him. Blood stained his fur where the shackles cut into him. It took all the strength of these ten large men to control him and move him toward the circle where Morjin stood with his priests, guards and the terrible Grays.
Seeing the guards manhandle Atara, I lifted up Alkaladur and took a step forward. Its blade radiated my hate. And then Morjin, his eyes fixed fearfully on my bright sword, finally spoke to me. His words rang out like steel into the hall: 'If you come any closer, Valashu Elahad, she will be killed.'
The Red Priests swarming over Atara, I saw, had jeweled knives fastened onto their belts. And the Grays, of course, had their knives drawn: gray-steel daggers as sharp as death. The guards deployed around the circle pointed their swords, halberds and spears at Kane and me.
'Chain her!' Morjin commanded his guards. He turned his golden eyes upon Master Juwain and the raging Ymiru. 'Chain them, too!'
Guards came forward with hammers then, and beat at our freinds' chains with a dreadful clang of metal against metal. They bound them to the iron rings sunk into the standing stones. With the cruel chains pulling their arms straight out from their sides, they could barely move.
My fear for Atara - and for Master Juwain, Ymiru and all of us -almost chained me back against the pillar. I could only gaze helplessly into Atara's clear blue eyes as I held my sword at my side and waited for Morjin to speak.
The Lord of Lies seemed steeped in thought as he paced around the circle. He had ordered Ymiru's club and Atara's bow and arrows, like the key to Daj's shackles, placed on the floor just beyond their reach. There too lay Master Juwain's varistei, Ymiru's purple gelstei and Atara's crystal sphere. Now Morjin came over and held his hands above the gelstei as if to draw up their power. He glanced at Ymiru's great, iron-shod club and nudged it with his boot. He bent to slip a feathered arrow from Atara's quiver; he stood staring at the sharp, steel point. Then, as if remembering other times when he had held court here, he looked down at the dark etchings in the floor. I suddenly took keen note of what I had so far scarcely perceived: that the stonework of the ritual area was carved with a great coiled dragon. The dragon's head formed the very center of the circle, and its mouth was open as if to swallow the blood that must run through the grooves in the dark, sticky stone.
'All right then,' he called out as the doors closed, 'we may begin.'
His voice, as I remembered from my nightmares, was clear and strong like the ringing of a silver bell. But now that we had finally met in the flesh, here in the fastness of his hall, he seemed to have abandoned all desire to charm or persuade me. His smiles were chill and full of malice, as little alluring as the stare of a snake.
His manner was brusque and cruel as if he had come to mete out justice with an iron hand.
'Stay where you are, Valari!' he suddenly commanded me 'I would speak with you but I don't wish to shout!'
He summoned twenty of his guards and his Red Priests to walk slowly toward us where we stood by the line of pillars. They drew up forty feet away with ten guards on either side of him. I knew that he wanted something from me.
'So,' Kane muttered, 'so.'
I could feel Kane's large body tensing to spring forward like a tiger's even as I trembled to hold back my own. His black eyes flashed fire at Morjin as he calculated numbers and distances. He held himself in check only because it was obvious that Morjin could retreat under cover to the circle before we could get at him.
Morjin turned to nod at the fiercest-looking of his priests, a man with the black skin of Uskudar and the dark, hungry eyes of the damned. He spoke to this priest, and to his other men, saying, 'Well, Lord Salmalik, it's as I've foretold. The enemy has sent assassins to murder me.'
He pointed a long, elegant finger back toward the circle at Ymiru and said, 'It's obvious that the Ymanish led them here. No doubt out of vengeance, bearing his people's false claim. Do you see what comes of the bitterness of believing ancient lies?'
'It be you who lies!' Ymiru roared out as he lunged against his chains. 'Argattha be our hrome!'
Morjin nodded at a guard, who slammed the butt end of his spear into Ymiru's face, smashing his teeth and bloodying his lips. He shook his dazed head slowly back and forth as Morjin continued to address him:
'Your people were paid good gold for the work they did here,' he said. 'And they did good work, it's true, but there is much we've improved upon.'
Ymiru stared down at the dragon carved into the floor, then cast his eyes upon the dragon throne. Finally he turned to look at the Red Dragon himself as he said,
'You've taken a hroly place and made it into something hrorrible!'
Again Morjin nodded at his guard. This time the man thrust the point of his spear into Ymiru's side, tearing open a bloody hole in his fur. 'Thus to assassins,' Morjin called out.
His golden eyes now fell upon Master Juwain. 'For ages, the Brother hoods have opposed us. And now the Great White Brotherhood sends one of its Masters - a Master Healer, no less - to slay rather than mend body and soul togethe
r.'
Master Juwain stared fearlessly at Morjin and opened his mouth as if to gainsay this lie. But, mindful of the guard's bloody spear, he decided that there was little point in disputing Morjin. 'If he touches him,' Maram said, looking at Master Juwain, 'I'll. . .'
His voice suddenly died as he looked down at the red crystal in his hand. The cracked firestone was now useless and couldn't summon forth even a wooden match's worth of flame.
Now Morjin pointed the arrow that he still held at Atara. He called out, 'Princess Atara Ars Narmada, daughter of the usurper of the realm that still belongs to us! The Manslayer who must have seen me dead beneath her assassin's arrows! Well, scryer, what future do you see now?'
I, too, wondered what Atara saw; she stared at the figures of the fallen Galadin carved into the walls, and her eyes were full of hor ror.
I recalled the last part of Ayondela Kirriland's prophecy, that the dragon would be slain. Well, the dragon named Angraboda had been slain, but Morjin must have feared that the prophecy really spoke of him. Could it be, I wondered, that he truly thought we were assassins? Was it possible that he didn't know our real reason for entering Argattha? He mustn't know then, I thought. At all costs, he mustn't know.
Morjin turned away from Atara toward us where we took shelter beneath the pillars.
He pointed at Daj, and spoke with great bitterness: 'Well, young Dajarian, I've been merciful, but this time for you, it's the cross.'
Daj pulled back behind Liljana, who was still fighting off the Grays. He began trembling as he cast his eyes about the room like a trapped fawn.
'And Prince Maram Marshayk,' Morjin said, looking at my best friend. 'Why you have joined this conspiracy is a mystery to me.'
'Ah, it's a mystery to me as well,' Maram muttered. He, too, trembled to flee, but he held his ground bravely even so.
'And Liljana Ashvaran,' Morjin said, watching her stare down the leader of the Grays. 'At least your motives are more obvious, witch.'
He added his dreadful stare to that of the Grays, trying to beat open her mind. And I shouted, 'Leave her alone! She's just a poor widow!'
Morjin suddenly smiled at me and said, 'Is that what you've thought? She's the Materix of the Maitriche Telu. The ruling witch herself.'
Liljana's eyes were fixed on the Grays, but some flicker of pride fired up inside her then, and I knew that Morjin had told true. 'Well, witch, did you keep this a secret from your companions?' Kane, I thought from the look on his face, might have known Liljana's true rank. And so might have Atara. But this news clearly amazed Maram, Master Juwain and Ymiru - as it did me.
Morjin nodded at the priest named Salmalik and said, 'Maitriche Telu, do you see?
Poisoners and assassins, all of them. If not for men such as you, they would have murdered their way to the rule of Ea long ago.' At being singled out for praise, Lord Salmalik swelled with pride. But Morjin hadn't saved his accolades for him alone. He walked among his priests and guards, here smiling at an old priest as if giving thanks for long service, there placing his hand on a young man's arm to show his gratitude for his risking his life on Morjin's behalf. The Lord of Lies, I saw, was a great seducer who made a show of his preeminence and played to his people's desires with all the skill of a magician. At a nod from Morjin, the leader of the Grays suddenly looked away from Liljana. And she turned to me and said, 'I am the Materix of the Maitriche Telu. Perhaps I should have told you - I'm sorry, Val.'
Liljana, I thought, had given me a dozen clues that this was so. Why hadn't I seen this? 'And we have killed,' she went on, 'but only when we've had to.'
My amazement only deepened. The Maitriche Telu, it was said, had secret sanctuaries and chapter houses in almost every land. If Morjin was more powerful than any king, even King Kiritan, then Liljana was the most powerful woman in Ea.
'But Morjin lies,' she told me, 'when he says that we desire rule. We seek only to restore Ea to the ancient ways.'
'You might want to be careful whom you call a liar, old witch,' Morjin snapped at her. He pointed at another iron ring on the side of the standing stone to which Atara was bound. 'It's an evil tongue you have, and I might decide to tear it out.'
Liljana pointed her figurine at the Grays and said, 'Of course you speak of such things - that's the only way you have to silence me.'
Morjin turned back toward the Grays' leader. Something seemed to pass back and forth unspoken between them. And then, as if explaining this exchange to his Red Priests and guards, Morjin said to him, 'Soon enough you shall have the witch's blue gelstei. And the black stone that was stolen from your brother.'
Now Morjin whirled about facing Kane. Their eyes locked together like red-hot iron rings hammered into a chain. Emotions as fiery and deep as a volcano's molten rock blasted out into the room. It was impossible for me to tell whose hate was vaster, Morjin's or Kane's.
'You,' Morjin said to him. 'You dare to come here again.'
'So, I do dare.'
'What is it you call yourself now - "Kane"?'
'What is it you call yourself now - King of Kings? Ha!'
Morjin stood before his priests and snapped at Kane, 'I should have torn out your tongue long ago!'
'Do you think it wouldn't have grown back in the mouths of ten thousand others to tell the truth of who you really are?'
'Be careful of what you say!'
'So, I'm free to speak as I will.'
'For the moment,' Morjin's face flushed with rage, and he pointed at the iron rings sticking out the side of Ymiru's stone. He said, 'When you're chained there, who will set you free?'
'Ask that,' Kane said, pointing his sword at Morjin, 'after you've put me there.'
Morjin stared so hard at Kane that his eyes seemed to redden from burst blood vessels. And he demanded, 'Give me the stone!'
Kane held up the black gelstei that he had cut from the Gray's forehead in Alonia on the night of the full moon. And then he snarled out, 'Take it from me!'
My old suspicions of Kane came flooding back into me. I wondered for the thousandth time at his grievance against Morjin. It seemed they had known each other long ago in another place.
Morjin saw me looking at Kane, and he turned his spite upon me. He said, 'You've taken a madman into your company, Valari.' 'Do not speak so,' I told him, 'of my friends.' 'Kane, your friend?' Morjin sneered. He pointed at Alkaladur, which I held gleaming by my side. 'He's no more your friend than that is your sword.'
I knew from the pounding of his heart that he feared this bright blade as he did death. It seemed that he could hardly bear to look at it. 'Alkaladur,' he said softly.
'How did you find it?' 'It was given to me,' I told him.
I sensed that the sword's shimmering presence made him recall dark moments in dark ages long past, as well as visions yet to come. I knew, as he did, that it had been foretold that the sword would bring his death.
'Surrender the sword to me, Valari!' he suddenly shouted. 'Surrender it, now!'
This sudden command, breaking from his throat like a clap of thunder, shocked every nerve in my body. His golden eyes dazzled me; the tremendous power of his will beat at my bones, almost breaking my will to keep hold of my sword. 'Surrender and save yourself!' he told me. 'And save your friends.' What need, I wondered, had Morjin of his Grays when he had his own mind and malice to poison others? As his eyes found mine, the hatred that poured out of him smothered me like burning pitch.
The Red Dragon, in the flesh, was far worse than in any of my illusions or dreams.
Only my resolve to oppose him - magnified by the shielding powers of my sword -
kept me from falling down and groveling at his feet.
'Do you see how strong the Valari are?' Morjin said, turning to the leader of the Grays. Then he looked at Salmalik and his other Red Priests. 'And so the savages send one of their strongest to murder me.'
I stared at him down the length of the shining sword that I pointed at him. I did badly want to murder him. How could I de
ny this? 'Conspirators, thieves and murderers,' he said. 'They defiled my chambers. And they would have trapped and tortured me there, if they could have.'
This, of course, was a lie. But how could I deny it without giving away our purpose?
Lord Salmalik caught Morjin's eye and said, 'Torture, Sire?'
Morjin nodded his head and spoke to all gathered in the room: 'These seven, save the Ymanish, all journeyed to Tria to the lure of Kiritan's illicit summons. They've made quest for the Lightstone across half of Ea. I'm certain that they've gathered clues as to where it was hidden.'
He doesn't know! I thought. He truly doesn't know that the Lightstone lies somewhere in this room!
'And these clues,' he continued, 'led them here. To me. They must have thought that I possess the key clue to their stealing of what is rightfully mine. And so they came to torture this knowledge from me.'
I held myself very still, staring at him. And he said to me, 'Do you deny this, Valari?'
No, I thought, I couldn't. But neither could I affirm such a lie. And so held myself cloaked in silence.
'Do you see how proud the Valari is?' Morjin said to Salmalik. 'Proud and vain - it is the curse of his kind. Telemesh. Aramesh. Elemesh. Murderers, all. How many have been slaughtered in wars because of them? Because they, who are savages at heart, put their glory above others? Descendants of Elahad they claim to be! Elahad, whom the Valari claim brought the Lightstone to Ea. Elahad, the murderer of his own -'
'Elahad did bring the Lightstone to Ea!' I shouted. 'The Valari were its guardians!'
'Be quiet while I'm speaking!' Morjin roared at me. He turned to look back at the ritual area and touch eyes with his guards, who stood in rapt attention. 'Do you see how the Valari twists this false claim of guardianship into an excuse to break into my home and torture me? From such a people, are any outrages impossible?'
'You lie!' I said to him.
Morjin paused to stare at me as he gathered in his breath. He was working himself up into a frenzy of spite. And now his all hate fell upon me like an infected wound bursting with pus.