David Zindell - Lord of Lies

He killed my sisters, Kasandra had said to me. His face is as noble as your own. He is no man . .

On the floor beneath me were the bloody bootprints of a man, or men. The pattern of these red defilements seemed burned into the stone.

I know that you keep the Cup of Heaven locked and guarded in your castle as in ancient times, Morjin had written me. It is a beautiful thing, is it not? The most beautiful in all the world.

My sword flared again, this time more brightly. I held it pointing down toward the east in the direction of the great hall where the Guardians stood protecting the Lightstone. Alkaladur blazed with a wild radiance that burned deep into my eyes.

'Master Juwain!' I cried out. 'Go back to my father's room! Ask the King — Asaru, too, my brothers — to come to the great hall!'

'Val, what is it?' Master Juwain asked me.

But 1 was already running for the door. I paused there only a moment to call out to Maram, 'Go to the Guardians' barracks! Rouse Baltasar! Tell him that a ghul has been sent to steal the Lightstone!'

I had no breath to say more. I sprinted out into the hallway. Our noise of broken doors and shouts must have roused this floor's guests. Two of them — old Lord Garvar's widow and a minstrel from Thalu — had opened their doors halfway to see if the castle might be under attack. I told them to lock themselves inside their rooms. And then, sword in hand, I ran past them toward the stairwell.

I fairly bounced down the twisting stairs like a suddenly released stone. It was a miracle that I negotiated the worn granite slabs without stumbling and breaking my neck. Only seconds, it seemed, sufficed for me to reach the archway into the first floor's hallway. I ran down this deserted corridor as quickly as I could. At the kitchens, I turned right, and sprinted down the shorter corridor connecting the keep to the great hall. Its doors were open, and so I had no trouble passing inside.

There, in this vast, dim space still smelling of beer and roasted meat, I saw an astonishing thing: the thirty Guardians lay in various positions about the dais at the front of the room. Their faces were peaceful, and they all appeared to be sleeping. The Lightstone remained on its stand above them. Its shimmering presence seemed to call forth a new surge of radiance from my sword.

The debt must be repaid, Morjin had written me. You will serve me — in life or in death.

'Adamar! Viku! Skyshan!' I called out to three of the Guardians, to no effect I ran toward the dais and then bounded up its steps. I picked my way around the splayed arms and legs of the downed Guardians. The hand of the Guardian nearest the Lightstone seemed to beckon me — or someone — closer.

'Skyshan!' I called out again as I knelt and tried to shake this large, young man awake. 'Skyshan!'

After a few moments, I gave up and rose to my feet. I stood with my sword held ready as I steeled myself to guard the Lightstone — in life or in death.

I waited for the faint sound of boots along the corridor or the creak of doors being opened. Hot sweat trickled down my sides beneath my armor. My breath came in quick bursts, and my heart beat like a war drum. I looked out into the hall at the rows of tables and empty chairs. I glanced up at the portraits of my ancestors along the walls; their grave faces looked down at me as if to take my measure. My grandfather, Elkasar Elahad and his father, Aradam, and his grandfather — all the kings of Mesh going back many generations seemed to be waiting with me in the hall. One of the oldest of the portraits was of Julamar Elahad, who had been King of Mesh when last the Lightstone had resided on this stand three thousand years before. His ancient eyes, brilliant as stars, seemed to fix upon me and to ask me if I would give the Lightstone into the Maitreya's hands, even as he had. He asked me if I would die trying to wrest the Lightstone back from Morjin and his murderous priests, even as he had, too.

As my heart beat out the moments of my life in quick, hot surges that tore through my veins, the whole world seemed to wait with me there in the quiet hall. I felt someone watching me. It seemed that he was far away — or perhaps very near. In all that large space, with its smooth walls of stone, there were few places to hide: behind the pillars holding up the ceiling or in the darkened recesses of the south doors. I listened for the rustle of clothing or mail armor from these places; I felt for the beating of another's heart or the quiet steaming of his breath.

All at once, an overpowering desire to sleep flooded into me My arms felt unbelievably heavy, as if they were encased not in steel but in lead. I had to fight to keep my eyes open. My head was like a great weight that kept falling toward my chest.

I must not, I may not, I silently prayed. Please don't let me fall asleep.

A glint of silver sliced the air above me. Flick appeared in a shower of sparks. This mysterious being began looping through the air, around and around both me and the Lightstone, as if weaving a fence of light. Or trying to paint a beguiling pattern of scarlet and silver streaks that might keep me awake.

I raised high my long and brilliant sword and cried out. 'Alkaladur!' The Awakener, men called it. Through its silver gelstei ran a secret pulse that beat in rhythm to my own true pulse. It reminded me that the deepest part of myself remained always awake and always aware, and would remain standing even when I died.

At last, from faroff in the depths of the castle, came the sound of footsteps that I had been dreading. I turned toward the open doorway by which I had entered the hall. My eyes burned as I waited to see who would appear in the rectangular darkness there. My hands seemed fused with the hilt of my sword.

'Valashu!' a strong voice called to me. 'Valashu Elahad!' My heart surged with joy to see my father charge into the room. He had his shining kalama in hand. Asaru, Karshur and my other brothers, with Lansar Raasharu, followed closely behind him. A few moments later, even as my father hurried up the steps of the dais to join me, Master Juwain appeared in the doorway, too.

'What is this?' Master Juwain cried out when he saw the forms of the sleeping Guardians. 'What poison? What potion?'

'What sorcery, you mean?' Asaru said as he gained the dais and tried to rouse his friends.

Just then came a much louder sound of pounding boots and jangling steel from outside the hall to the east. Suddenly, with a crash of wood, the doors were thrown open, and Baltasar and Maram led seventy mail-clad knights into the room. I smiled to see the grim faces of Shivathar and Artanu of Godhra and others who were like brothers to me. They started straight for the dais. But then 1 held out my hand and shouted, 'Stay, Baltasar! Guard the doors and stand your distance until we discover the nature of this sorcery!'

While Master Juwain knelt among the fallen Guardians looking for sign of what might have stricken them, Karshur stood like a mountain above him. He yawned and said, 'Perhaps Master Juwain is right — it's some sleeping potion.'

'No,' I said, 'it cannot be.'

I explained that it was one of my rules that the Guardians on duty should never all eat of the same food together nor take the same drink. Ravar, my cleverest brother, rubbed his fox-like face as he said, 'Then it must be something else. Let us search the hall.'

And so it was done. My brothers and the Guardians still on their feet spread out through the hall as if beating through grass to flush a rabbit. They picked through the rows of tables but paid closest attention to the dais itself. In the end, it was Ravar who discovered the source of what had stricken the Guardians. With a flick of his knife, he wedged out a piece of loose mortar between two of the dais floor-stones. And in the recess between them, his quick fingers found — small, glassy sphere like an agate or a child's marble.