Диана Дуэйн - The Door Into Shadow

would eventually bring Freelorn back. But by the time of Eftgan's first crowning the situation was unbearable. Unaware of Freelorn's whereabouts, Eftgan wrote to Cillmod and offered to repair the Royal Bindings herself. Amazingly, he refused. Segnbora looked up from her food in surprise at that, as did the rest of Freelorn's company.
"He said that inquiries were being made in Arlen for a surviving heir to the Lion's Line," Eftgan explained. "He had put about the story that you had died, did you know that?" "No!"
"Later there was even proof of it: a mangled head sent from the torture chambers of Dariw of Steldin, whom you eluded at Madeil." "Hmmm. . Do ghosts eat? No? Then there must have been a mistake."
"Must have been. Anyway, Cillmod was apparently unsuc-cessful in finding any other children in the Lion's Line. Which is fortunate, since I'm sure he would have killed any that he found. Another question, Lorn: Do you have any children outside of Arlen?" Freelorn shook his head sadly. "I only fulfilled the Responsibility once," he said. "My daughter died in infancy."
"Well enough." Eftgan chewed some bacon. "I ask because Cillmod's search for an heir took some strange turns. For example, some of the searches were conducted by large j groups of mercenaries who crossed the Darthene borders and went after our granaries. It was the only way Cillmod could v forestall a revolt by the Four Hundred and their starving tenant-farmers. Anyway, to continue: There were also reports for some time of sorcerers and Rodmistresses visiting Prydon. More sorcerers than Rodmistresses, of course. There's one sorcerer in particular—"
"Someone who either claimed to be of Lion's Line," Free-lorn guessed, "or who claimed he could get Cillmod into Lionhall without dying of it, and show him how to reinforce the Bindings."
"Exactly. The second was what this sorcerer claimed. Rian, his name is. But then something peculiar happened. The man never went into Lionhall at all, as far as my spies can tell. Neither did Cillmod. Nevertheless, starting about a year ago Rian became a fixture at what now passes for the Arlene court." Eftgan took a drink of barley-water. "Other odd things — the Four Hundred have become very quiet re-cently. When you robbed the treasury at Osta, for example, it became apparent then that you weren't dead after all. Nat-urally there was a clamor for your return. But it died down very quickly." "Why?"
"I believe because the families who called loudest for your crowning were suddenly beset by Fyrd — the thinking variety." Mutters of distaste were heard round the table. "Rian," Segnbora said, very quietly to herself.
The Queen nodded. "I have no doubt that we're dealing here with a person whom the Shadow occasionally inhabits and controls. The man has a past and a family just as he should, but he's the center of too many odd occurrences. Where his influence appears, Cillmod's neglect usually breaks out into full-fledged malice."
Lorn, who had finished his porridge, set down his spoon. "What else has friend Rian — or rather, the Shadow — been up to?" "You know the problems the Reavers have been having with the weather, their crops, and their game? How they are being forced northward? That's obviously the Shadow's work. There's something else, too. Starting about six months ago, it seems that emissaries — mostly mercenary captains — were sent over the mountains in to Reaver country to strike a bar-gain. In return for making incursions into the Kingdoms when ordered, some of the hardest-pressed Reaver clans were pro-mised loot, cattle. . and land in Arlen in which to settle."
AH around the table, there was silence. "The Shadow's purpose is apparently to keep Darthen busy with war until something special happens," Eftgan said. "My guess is that 'something' is the collapse of the Royal Bind-ings."
The silence in the room erupted into cries of disbelief. The end of the Royal Bindings was unthinkable. Such a calamity would turn the Shadow loose in the Kingdoms as It hadn't been loose in centuries, since the Lion and the Eagle first bound It.
Lang looked at Freelorn. "I can't believe anyone would knowingly do this to his own country! Can it be Cillmod doesn't know what the failure of the Bindings will mean?"
"Could be," Lorn said. "After all, he's not trained in the royal sorceries. Perhaps the true nature of the destruction that would follow is being hidden from him somehow. In any case, if this is the Shadow's purpose, it must not be allowed."
The firmness of his resolve sent a dart of sharp pride through Segnbora. The others, equally moved, quieted. Eft-gan nodded her approval. "First of all, what are we doing about the Reavers locally?" Freelorn asked.
"I've spoken to Herewiss about the possibility of closing off the Chaelonde incursion route with a sealing," the Queen said. "That would cause the Reavers a great deal of trouble right away. Without it, they'd have to go as far east as Araveyn or as far west as Bluepeak itself to get into the Kingdoms. Araveyn is practically in the Waste; they wouldn't bother. And Bluepeak is in Arlen, meaning that Cillmod would have to march Reavers all the way through his own country to attack
Darthen. Tactically, a sealing is a good idea. The question is whether it can be done."
"It can," Herewiss said. "But right now the timing's bad. I wouldn't dare try it with Glasscastle imminent; we'll have to wait until it passes. Which brings us to another problem— sealing off the peak of Adine so that no sorcery of the Shadow's, or anyone else's, can bring anything down out of Glasscastle onto our heads. That, too, I can do; and I'll do it tonight. My only fear is that the sudden removal of access to a place where our mortal world and another world touch might cause Power imbalances. In a place as delicately bal-anced as Barachael is, with its years of warfare and piled-up negative energies, that can be dangerous."
"I know," Eftgan said. "But it can't be helped. My true-dream made it plain that the next time someone passed into or out of Glasscastle, so great a disturbance would follow that the Kingdoms might not survive."
Herewiss looked gravely at Lorn, and then back at the Queen again. "I'll do what I can, madam," he said. "I hope it'll suffice."
"It's more than I could have done, that's for sure…." Eftgan pushed her chair back from the table. "I leave the matter in your capable hands. I should be back from Orsvier tomorrow, and we can worry about sealing the pass itself then. As for you, Arlen—" She fixed Freelorn with a hard, smiling look. "I stand on the Oath. As soon as I get this unfought army off my right flank, and yours, then it's 'the Eagle for Arlen and the Lion at i bay/ I trust you two will be willing to deal with this flank, should it become necessary today."
"Darthen," he said, returning Eftgan's look without the smile, "you know how my loved has been handling this so far. And I agree with him. I'd prefer not to shed blood, Arlene or Darthene."
"Cillmod's had no such compunctions," Eftgan said. "Nei-ther have the Reavers, and right now there are Reavers corn-ing here, and Reavers at Orsvier. You two clear this flank, I'll clear the other. Then we'll have leisure to consider what to do about Arlen. When we campaign, there I'll be guided by your judgment; you know your land best."
Freelorn nodded, looking solemn. Eftgan turned to the corner and picked up something that stood against the wall — a big old iron fireplace poker, its haft studded with rough white diamonds. It was Sarsweng, the battle-standard of the Darthenes. "I have to get my work done," the little fair woman said. "My husband hates it when I get home late. The Lady be with you all 'til I get back—"
"And with you," those at the table said. Eftgan shouldered Sarsweng and strode out, the sunlight \ flashing on the poker's gemmed haft as she passed through \, a bar of light falling down the stairs. \
At breakfast's end Harald, Moris, Dritt, and Lang went off with the Darthene officers to look the place over. Herewiss sat quietly in his chair,
drinking spiced wine and looking thought-ful, while Freelorn stared out the window at the towering Adine massif.
On her way to the stairs, Segnbora stopped beside him. Her underhearing was prickling with his unease. "You all right?" she said. "You