David Zindell - The Diamond Warriors

‘It would have been better,’ he said to me, ‘if you had stayed in exile in whatever land you found to give you shelter. Your presence here is only a disturbance. And your purpose is vain – and in vain. We have heard of your call for men to gather to your standard. Promises to defeat the Red Dragon you have given, and people believe you. You remain a firebrand who incites impossible dreams.’

I could feel the knights near me waiting for me to gainsay him. But I did not wish to dispute him word for word and assertion with counter-assertion. And so I said to him, ‘My father always valued your counsel, Lord Tanu, hard though it sometimes might be to hear. But he would not have appreciated your claim to his throne.’

I sensed Lord Tanu’s face flushing with a hot surge of blood as he lowered his eyes in shame. Then, at his right side, Lord Eldru angrily shook his head. Long white hair flowed out from beneath his winged helm, and his stern, wrinkled face showed a great round scar where an enemy spear had pierced his jaw down through his throat and nearly killed him at the Culhadosh Commons. Finally, he spoke for Lord Tanu, saying, ‘Would your father have thought you more worthy of the crown? You, who deserted the castle in defiance of your father’s command?’

Next to him sat the iron-haired and iron-faced Lord Ramjay, and Sar Shagarth, a large master knight sporting a thick mustache and black beard rare among the Valari. They nodded their heads in agreement as Lord Eldru recited the same indictments that had been made against me after the Great Battle: that five years previously, in Waas, I had hesitated in slaying the enemy, and so could not be trusted to lead men. And that two years ago, in Tria, in a fit of wrath, I had slain the innocent Ravik Kirriland, who was not my enemy, and so I should be doubly mistrusted. And that on the Culhadosh Commons, my taking command of Lord Eldru’s reserve and waiting to attack had put the entire army at risk and should be taken as a proof of my recklessness.

‘A year ago,’ Lord Eldru said to me, ‘you left Mesh for lands unknown, and in that time, nothing has changed.’

Because I had previously defended my actions to these men, to little effect, I decided to let the past remain the past. But I must, I thought, at all costs speak for the future.

‘Everything has changed,’ I told them. ‘To begin with, we have found the Maitreya.’

Lord Tanu finally looked at me again as his harsh voice whipped out: ‘So you say, Lord Valashu. As you said once before when you claimed to be the Maitreya.’

‘Every man,’ I told him, ‘deserves a chance to be wrong once in his life. But I am not wrong about Bemossed.’

As I went on to tell of this man who had worked miracles of healing and other wonders, Lord Tanu listened intently. I held nothing back in my description of how Bemossed had given new life to a dying boy and had faced down Morjin’s ghul – and so overcame Morjin himself; I spoke with all the power and truthfulness that I could summon. My love for Bemossed, I thought, if not my words, touched something inside Lord Tanu and cracked open a hidden door. But he immediately tried to slam it shut again.

‘Maitreya or not,’ he said, ‘your claim for your latest quest has little to do with the problems that Mesh faces – nor does it help men to see the way clear to their solution.’

At this, Lord Avijan took umbrage, pointing at the knights behind Lord Tanu and calling out, ‘Is this , then, your solution to a divided realm? That you should march uninvited into my lands at the head of an army?’

‘If I had made request,’ Lord Tanu countered, ‘would you have made invitation?’

I felt the steel inside Lord Avijan heating up, as with a sword plunged into a bed of hot coals. He did not, however, let his anger cause him to misspeak. He merely stared at Lord Tanu and said with an icy calm, ‘You are always welcome in my castle, Lord Tanu. We will always try to keep a room open for you – though I’m sorry to say we cannot accommodate four thousand men.’

‘We heard that you accommodated a thousand easily enough, with more expected,’ Lord Tanu told him. ‘Such a gathering of warriors, so close to Waas, might cause King Sandarkan to worry that you are about to attack him. Indeed, my counselors worry that this might provoke him into attacking you .’

Here he nodded at Lord Eldru and Lord Ramjay, who nodded back.

Then Lord Avijan, forcing down a grim smile, said, ‘One would think that your four thousand warriors pose an even greater provocation.’

‘Perhaps they do. But at least if King Sandarkan is so provoked, we will have the strength to turn him back.’

‘I see,’ Lord Avijan said. ‘Then you marched here unheralded as a show of strength?’

Lord Tanu smiled sourly at this. ‘You understand, then. We must show King Sandarkan that Mesh’s warriors remain ready to march to any part of the realm at a moment’s notice and defend it. And we must know that our castles remain in good repair so that we can mount an effective defense, if need be. Your castle is critical to Mesh’s security.’

‘Then you have my assurance,’ Lord Avijan told him, ‘that my castle is in excellent repair. Her gates are strong, and we’ve plenty of oil to heat up and pour down upon attackers – plenty of arrows, too.’

Lord Tanu nodded at this as he pulled at one of the ribbons tied to his long hair. He looked at Lord Eldru, and then at Lord Ramjay and Sar Shagarth. Finally he turned back to Lord Avijan and told him, ‘Surely you can understand that we must see this for ourselves.’

His insistence angered Sar Vikan, who shook the white banner of truce at him, and shouted, ‘See for yourself then as you stand beneath the battlements and bathe in burning oil!’

I tried to keep my face stern and still as Lord Avijan held up his hand to quiet him. Then Lord Avijan told Lord Tanu: ‘You do not have the right to inspect my lands, or my leave to cross them. And you do not have the right to be king.’

A quiet fell over the knights gathered on the road, and the only sound to be heard was the flapping of a swan’s wings far out on the lake. Then Lord Avijan said that Mesh must have a king who could unite the whole of the realm and then gain victory over the other Valari kingdoms – or win an alliance with them – in order to oppose Morjin.

At this Lord Tanu nodded his head at Lord Avijan, and said, ‘Your arguments are good ones, but it is not Valashu Elahad who should be king. He will only divide the realm further, for the reasons that have already been stated. Also, he is too taken with heroics. And he is too young.’

Lord Harsha, from on top of his horse behind me, barked out, ‘You have known Lord Valashu all his life, and you still don’t know him. And you don’t know yourself , if you think you should be king in his stead.’

‘My failings are many,’ Lord Tanu fired back, ‘and thank you for reminding me. Even as I grieve King Shamesh’s death, I wish that Lord Asaru had lived to wear his father’s ring. Or any of his brothers, save Lord Valashu, I would have wished see as king rather than myself. But fate is fate, and the world turns on. What are we to do? Lord Tomavar, as we all know, is too proud to be king. Too quick to take insult, too eager for glory and he loves war too much. A fine tactician, yes, but he is weak in strategy, and he does not listen to others’ counsel, and so what hope have we that he will lead us to victory in the wars soon to come? And you, Lord Avijan, have too little support to be king. Other claimants have less. Therefore it is upon me to take up a mantle I never sought.’

As the wind rose and bent the grasses along the side of the road, I sensed that he was speaking the truth – at least the truth as he saw it. Lord Tanu had realized all his ambitions as one of Mesh’s most renowned warriors and greatest lords: commander of half of my father’s army. My father had always counted him among the most faithful of his knights. I thought that he had no deep, driving desire to become king. But he was one of those men who reasoned relentlessly and flawlessly from unquestioned premises to reach a perfectly logical result that was dead wrong.