David Zindell: Lord of Lies

Master Juwain invited us to sit at his tea table, inlaid with mother of pearl and precious woods, and years ago imported from Galda at great cost. He bent over one of the chamber's fireplaces and retrieved a black iron pot. After heaping some green leaves into it, he brought it to the table and set it down on a square tile, along with three blue cups.

'Ah, I think I'd rather have a bit of beer,' Maram said, eyeing his empty cup. 'I don't suppose — '

'I'm afraid it's time for tea, Brother Maram,' Master Juwain said. He at least, remained true to his vows to renounce wine, women and war. 'We've need for clear heads today — and tonight.'

Maram regarded the tea pot as he sat pulling at his thick, curly beard. I looked at Master Juwain and said, 'What is troubling you, sir? It's said that you nearly killed your horse returning from Taron.'

'My poor horse,' Master Juwain murmured, shaking his head. 'But I had heard that King Kiritan's emissaries were on the road toward Mesh, and I wanted to be here when they arrived. Have they?'

'Only an hour after yourself,' I told him. 'Count Dario Narmada and a small army of knights. It will be hard to find rooms for so many.'

'And the emissaries from Sakai? I had heard that the Red Dragon has sent seven of his priests to treat with your father.'

'That is true,' I said. 'They've remained sequestered in their chamber since their arrival three days ago.'

I listened to the distant echoes and sounds that seemed to emanate from the stone walls around me. A wrongness pervaded the castle, like a child's scream, and a sense of dread clawed at my insides. I thought of the five Kallimun priests and the cowled yellow robes that hid their faces; I prayed that none of them had been among the priests that had tortured my friends in Morjin's throne room in Argattha.

'They should never have been allowed into Mesh,' Master Juwain said. He touched the enlarged opening of his ear that one of Morjin's priests had torn with a heated iron. 'That's almost as dangerous as allowing the Red Dragon's poisonous dreams into our minds.'

'Dangerous, yes,' I agreed. 'But my father wishes to hear what they have to say. And he wishes it to be known that all are welcome in Mesh to view the Lightstone.'

I looked out the east windows where the city of Silvassu was spread out beneath the castle. It was a small city, whose winding streets and sturdy stone houses gave way after about a mile to the farmland and forest of the Valley of the Swans. And every inn and stable, I thought, was full with pilgrims who hoped to stand before the Lightstone. Even the fields at Silvassu's edge were dotted with the brightly colored pavil ions of nobles and knights who could not find rooms in the castle, and who disdained sleeping in a common inn with exiles, adventurers, soothsayers and all the others who had flocked to Mesh.

'We can guess what the Red Priests will say: lies and more lies,' Master Juwain told us. 'But what of King Kiritan's emissaries? Could he have agreed to the conclave?'

My father, King Shamesh, upon the deliverance of the Lightstone to Mesh, had sent emissaries of his own to Alonia and Delu, to the Elyssu and Thalu at the edge of the world. And to Eanna and Nedu, too, and of course, to the Nine Kingdoms of the Valari: to all of Ea's Free Kingdoms my father had sent a call for a conclave to be held in Mesh, that an alliance might be made to oppose Morjin and his rampaging armies.

'Ah, now that the Lightstone has been found,' Maram said, 'King Kiritan will have to agree to the conclave. And everyone else will follow Alonia's lead — won't they, Val?'

In truth, it had been I who had asked my father to call the conclave. For it had been I — and my friends — who had seen with our own eyes the great evil that Morjin was working upon the world.

'The Valari kings,' I said, 'will never follow the lead of an outland king, not even Kiritan. We'll have to find other means of persuading them.'

'Indeed, but persuading them toward what end?' Master Juwain asked. 'Merely meeting in conclave? Making an alliance? Or making war?'

This word, dreadful and dark, stabbed into my heart like the long sword I wore at my side. It was as heavy and burdensome as the steel rings of the mail that encased my limbs and pulled me down toward the earth. Once, in my father's castle, in my home, I had dressed otherwise, in simple tunics or even in my hunting greens. But now that I was Lord Guardian of the Lightstone, I went about armored at all times — especially with the Red Dragon's priests waiting to get close to a small golden cup.

'If we make an alliance,' I told Master Juwain, 'then perhaps we won't have to make war.'

It was my deepest dream, I told myself, to end war — forever.

'An alliance,' Master Juwain said, shaking his head. 'I'm afraid that the Red Dragon will never be defeated this way.'

'It is not necessary to defeat him,' I said. 'At least not outright, in battle. It will be enough if we secure the Free Kingdoms. Then, with the Brotherhoods working at the Dragon Kingdoms from within, and the Alliance doing the same from without the realms Morjin has conquered can be won back one by one.'

'I see how your thinking has progressed since I went away.'

'It is not just my thinking, sir. It's that of my father and brothers.'

'But what of the Lightstone, then?'

'It is the Lightstone,' said, 'that makes all this possible.'

'But what of the one for whom the Lightstone was meant? Have you given thought, as I've asked, to this Shining One?'

Master Juwain poured our tea then. Through the steaming liquid, I watched the little bits of leaves swirl about and then settle into my cup.

'There's been thought of little else,' I told him. 'But the Free Kingdoms should be strengthened so that the Shining One can come forth without fear. Then Morjin will have much to fear.'

'Indeed, he would,' Master Juwain said. 'But will the Red Dragon be content while you make alliance against him? Your way, I'm afraid, is that of the sword.'

'Perhaps,' I said, letting my hand rest on the seven diamonds set into the swan-carved hilt of my sword.

'We've all seen enough evil for one lifetime, Val.'

I drew my sword then, and held it so that it caught the sunlight streaming in through the western window. Its long blade, wrought of silustria, shimmered like a silver mirror. Its edges were keen enough to cut steel even as the power of the silustria cut through darkness and gave me to see, sometimes, the truth of things. The sword's maker had named it Alkaladur. In all the history of Ea, no greater work of gelstei had ever been accomplished, and none more beautiful.

'This sword,' I said to Master Juwain, 'is not evil.'

'No, perhaps not. But it can do evil things.'

Maram took a sip of his tea and grimaced at its bitterness. Then he said, 'There can't be enough evil for Morjin and all his kind.'

'Do not speak so,' Master Juwain said, holding up his hand. 'Please, Brother Maram, I ask you to — '

'Sar Maram, I'm called now,' Maram said, patting the sword that he wore sheathed at his side. It was a Valari kalama, like unto length and symmetry as my sword, only forged of the finest Godhran steel.

'Sar Maram, then,' Master Juwain murmured, bowing his bald head, 'You mustn't wish evil upon anyone — not even the Red Dragon himself.'

'You say that? After he blinded Atara with his own hands? After what he did to you?'

'I have another ear,' Master Juwain told him, tapping his large, knotty finger against the side of head. 'And if I could, I'd wish to hear no talk of revenge.'

'And that,' Maram said, 'is why you're a master of the Brotherhood and I am, ah, what I am. Evil deserves evil, I say. Evil should be opposed by any means.'