David Zindell - The Lightstone

But Aramesh had pursued him there; he had fought sword to sword with Morjin along the top of the great walls themselves. There, near the Tur-Tisander, between the Valoreth and Arwe Gates, Aramesh finally wounded and disabled Morjin, who laid down his sword and pleaded for his life. The kings and knights who had fought with Aramesh clamored for Morjin's death. But according to the Valari warrior codes, Aramesh was obliged to spare Morjin, although he hated to do so. Then, too, the scryer Katura Hastar had prophesied that 'the death of Morjin would be the death of Ea.'

And so, after Morjin surrendered the Lightstone to Aramesh, he had Morjin bound in chains. He ordered an impregnable fortress built on a small island, which he renamed Damoom. There Morjin was to be imprisoned until 'all the earth grew green again and the people of all the lands returned to the stars.'

'Morjin should never have been freed,' Kane said, pointing north toward the dark island in the bay. 'But that's another story.'

He turned his horse and pressed on toward the river. We followed him through this crowded, old district. The Nar Road cut through it along a straight enough line, but most of the nearby streets curved and twisted like snakes. There were many small houses and tenements among the great towers, and many buildings where events of great moment had taken place. We passed the Old Sanctuary of the Maitriche Telu – or rather its ruins. I learned that in the year 2284 of the Age of Swords, six years before Morjin's downfall, he had tried to annihilate this Sisterhood of scryers and mind readers who oppposed him. And so he had ordered their sanctuaries across Alonia torn down and the Sisters crucified. It was said that he had utterly destroyed their ancient order. But it was also said, by Kane and others, that the Sisters of Maitriche Telu still existed, dreaming their impossible dreams and plotting to remake the world from secret sanctuaries, perhaps even in Tria itself.

A couple of miles from the Astoreth Gate, the great boulevard led down to the river.

Here the look of the city changed, giving way to many taverns, crumbling tenements and warehouses. There were shops making rope and sail, and others where hot pitch was poured into fat, wooden barrels. The air grew moist, and smelled of the faint salt tang of the sea. We crossed a broad road just to the east of the river; along its muddy banks were many docks, at which great ships were anchored. I had never seen a real ship before, and the sight of them lined up along the quay – and pointed out into the river under full sail – made me think of storms whipping up raging seas and pirates venturing after treasure. Many of the men working on the ships even looked like pirates: there were sailors from Thalu with their sun-reddened skin and gold rings dangling from their ears. They wore bright bolts of cloth wrapped around their yellow hair and thick-bladed swords at their sides. Other sailors I took to be from the Elyssu, for their appearance was more like that of Master Juwain, except that most of them had a full head of hair. Master Juwain told me that when he had first come to Tria on a galley as a young man, he had had all his hair, too.

The Nar Road gave onto a great bridge named after an angel called Sarojin. With its huge stone pylons sunk down into the muddy waters of the Poru, 1 thought it the most magnificent such structure I had ever seen. But then, after we had progressed some hundred yards across it, the curve of the river allowed a view of a still greater bridge half a mile to the north. This was the famous Star Bridge. No pylons supported its immense mass. It seemed cast of a single piece of living stone that spanned the river in a great, sweeping, mile-long arch. All golden it was in the light of the setting sun, and Master Juwain called it by its more common name, which was the Golden Band. He said that the High King, Eluli Ashtoreth, had built it to remind his people of the leldra's sacred light that fell upon the earth at the end of every age.

'There's another light that I'd like to be reminded of,' Maram said as he looked at the bridge. 'Has anyone seen Flick since we entered the city?'

None of us had. We were all afraid that he had finally perished amidst the tumult of so many thousands of people and acres of stone – either that or simply evanesced into nothingness. But there was nothing we could do except to ride on and hope that he might soon reappear.

When we reached the Poru's west bank, just past the dockyards on that side of the river, we found a broad, tree-lined street leading straight up to a hill with a great tower and two palaces at the top. I supposed all this magnificence to be the residence of King Kiritan, but I was wrong. The tower, though not the city's largest, was the Tower of the Sun: the first such ever to be built in Tria or anywhere else.

The southernmost palace was the abode of the ancient Marshan clan while the other one was named after the Hastars. After we passed from the shadow of a rectangular temple blocking our view, Kane directed my attention to a still greater hill a mile to the north of them. The palace rising from the top of it was larger than my father's entire castle. Built of living stone that gleamed like marble and with nine golden domes surmounting its various sections, it was the most impressive thing I had ever seen.

We made our way toward it along a broad street that cut the Nar Road at an angle.

In this district of the city, along a line of hills above the river, were the houses of the rich and powerful. They were mostly made of marble on three stories, and any one of them was greater than any lord's house in Mesh. Soon we came to a wall that surrounded the palace grounds. The guards at the gate blocked our way with spears until I told them that I was Sar Valashu Elahad of Mesh and that Count Dario had invited me and my friends to the King's celebration. As it was now growing dark, the guards' captain, a burly graybeard dressed in a fine new tunic, hesitated a moment as he studied my stained cloak and the long sword I wore beneath it. He stared even more dubiously at Kane, and cast Atara a long look as if deciding whether she was truly a Sarni warrior or only a serving girl whom we had dressed to play the part.

'You're an odd lot,' he said to us with the arrogance the Alonians hold for all other peoples. 'The oddest yet to pass this gate today. And, I hope, the last. You should have arrived an hour ago so that you might have been properly presented. Now you'll have to hurry if you're to be graced with the King's welcome.'

So saying, he waved us through the gate. Inside it we found a city within a city. The palace itself faced east overlooking the harbor and the Bay of Belen beyond. The grounds were laid out with many other great buildings and residences, a temple and two cemeteries, a guards' barracks, stables and a smithy. Between them a road lined with magnificent oak trees led up to the palace gates. We passed through great lawns of some of the lushest grass I had ever seen. There were gardens, fountains and long, still pools of water decked with white marble and reflecting the light of the rising moon.

Over them all loomed King Kiritan's palace, the most magnificent building I had ever seen. Grooms waited to take our horses. Kane didn't like it that I had so openly presented myself to the guards; he insisted that we now keep our cloaks pulled tightly around ourselves and make no mention of our names. He seemed more wary of the nobles waiting inside than he had been of the crowds of dangerous-looking men on the streets. As he put it, 'The Gray who escaped us must have known we'd come here. There'll be Kallimun priests among the knights here tonight – we can be sure of that. So let's watch each other's backs.'

With his dark cloak covering his face, he led the way up the steps to the colannaded portico. We passed between thick white pillars and through the doorway into the palace proper. There the guards waved us on, and we walked quietly through a magnificent hall. Its white walls shone like mirrors and the high ceiling was inlaid with squares of lapis and gold; it was so large that for a moment I wondered if we hadn't come too late after all and missed the entire gathering. But this proved to be only the entrance hall. Beyond it, through great wooden doors trimmed out in silver and bronze, was the King's great hall. The guards in front of the doors seemed put out that they should have to open them again for us. They did their duty, however, and we passed one by one into King Kiritan's immense throne room.