Читать книгу The Diamond Warriors - David Zindell, David Zindell - Страница 7

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We came out of the woods with the late sun touching the farmland of the Valley of the Swans with an emerald blaze. To the west, the three great mountains, Telshar, Arakel and Vayu, rose up as they always had with their white-capped peaks pointing into the sky. Lord Harsha’s large stone house stood framed against the sacred Telshar: a bit of carved and mortared granite almost lost against the glorious work of stone that the Ieldra had sung into creation at the beginning of time. We caught Lord Harsha out weeding his wheatfield to the east of his house. When he heard the noise of our horses trampling through the bracken, he straightened up and shook his hoe at us as he peered at us with his single eye. He called out to us: ‘Who is it who rides out of the wildwood like outlaws at this time of day? Announce yourselves, or I’ll have to go and get my sword!’

Lord Harsha, I thought, would prove a formidable opponent against outlaws – or anyone else – with only his iron-bladed hoe to wield as a weapon. Despite a crippled leg and his numerous years, his thick body retained a bullish power. And even though he wore only a plain woolen tunic, he bore on his finger a silver ring showing the four brilliant diamonds of a Valari lord. A black eyepatch covered part of his face; twelve battle ribbons had been tied to his long, white hair, and in all of Mesh, there were few warriors of greater renown.

‘Outlaws, is it?’ I called back to him. ‘Have our journeys really left us looking so mean?’

So saying, I threw back the hood of my cloak and rode forward a few more paces. I came to the low wall edging Lord Harsha’s field. Once, I remembered, I had sat there with Maram, my brother Asaru and his squire, Joshu Kadar, as we had spoken with Lord Harsha about fighting the Red Dragon and ending war – and other impossible things.

‘Who is it?’ Lord Harsha called out again. His single eye squinted as the sun’s slanting rays burned across my face. ‘Announce yourself, I say!’

‘I am’ I called back to him, ‘the seventh son of Shavashar Elahad, whose father was King Elkamesh, who named me –’

‘Valashu Elahad!’ Lord Harsha shouted. ‘It can’t be! But surely it must be, even though I don’t know how!’

I dismounted and climbed over the wall. Lord Harsha came limping up to me, and he embraced me, pounding my back with his hard, blunt hands. Then he pulled back to fix me with his single, bright eye.

‘It is you,’ he said, ‘but you look different, forgive me. Older, of course, but not so much on the outside as within. And something else. Something has lit a fire in you, like that star you were named for. At last. When you skulked out of Mesh last year, you did seem half an outlaw. But now you stand here like a king.’

I bowed my head to him, and he returned this grace, inclining his head an inch lower than mine. And he said to me, ‘You have his look, you know.’

Whose look?’ I asked him.

‘King Elkamesh’s,’ he said. ‘When he was a young knight. I never saw the resemblance until today’

I smiled at him, and told him, ‘It is good to be home, Lord Harsha.’

‘It is good to have you home.’ His gaze took in Maram and my other companions, who had nudged their horses up to the wall and dismounted as well. And Lord Harsha pointed at Alphanderry and said, ‘I count eight of you, altogether, and eight it was who set out for Argattha. But here rides a stranger in Kane’s place. Don’t tell me such a great warrior has fallen!’

‘He has not fallen,’ I said, ‘as far as I know. But circumstances called him to Galda. And as for Argattha, we did not journey there after all.’

‘No – that is clear. If you had, we would not be gathered here having this discussion. But where then did you journey?’

I looked at Maram, who said, ‘Ah, that is a long story, sir. Might we perhaps discuss it over dinner? For more miles than I can tell you, I’ve been hoping to sit down to some of Behira’s roast beef and few glasses of your excellent beer.’

At the mention of his daughter’s name, I felt something inside Lord Harsha tighten, and he said to Maram, ‘It’s been a bad year, as you will find out, and so you will have to settle on some chops of lamb or perhaps a roasted chicken. But beer we still have in abundance – surely Behira will be glad to pour you all you can drink.’

He motioned for us to follow him, and we led our horses around his field toward his house. Although I still felt a dark presence watching my every movement, Lord Harsha seemed completely unaware of the Ahrim or that we had fought a battle for our lives scarcely an hour before. As we passed the barn and drew up closer to the house, he called out in his gruff voice: ‘Behira – come out and behold what the wind has blown our way!’

A few moments later, the thick wooden door of the house opened, and Lord Harsha’s only remaining child stepped out to greet us. Like Lord Harsha, Behira was sturdy of frame and wore a rough woolen tunic gathered in with a belt of black leather. With her ample breasts and wide hips that Maram so appreciated, my mother had once feared that Behira might run to fat. But time had treated this young woman well, for she had lost most of her plumpness while retaining all that made her pretty, and more. Her long hair gleamed a glossy black like a sable’s coat, and her large, lovely eyes regarded Maram boldly, and so with the rest of us. I might have expected that she would run out and fall into Maram’s arms, but time had changed her in other ways, too. The rather demure and good-natured girl, it seemed, had become a proud and strong-willed woman.

‘Lord Marshayk!’ she called out to Maram with an uncomfortable formality. ‘Lord Elahad! You’ve come back!’

So it went as she greeted all of us in turn, and then her gaze drew back to Maram. I sensed in her a churning sea of emotions: astonishment; shame; adoration; confusion. I felt hot blood burning up through her beautiful face as she said, ‘Oh, but we’ve much to talk about, and you will all want a good hot bath before we do. I’ll go and heat the water’

And with that she bowed to us, and went back into the house. The explanations for her strange behavior, I thought, would have to wait until we cleaned ourselves. After Behira had filled the cedarwood tub in the bathing room, we went inside the house and took turns immersing our bodies in steaming hot water: first Atara, Liljana and Estrella took a rare pleasure in washing away their cares, and then Master Juwain, Maram, Daj and I. While Master Juwain and Daj were pulling on fresh tunics, Lord Harsha came into the wood-paneled bathing room to inform us that dinner would soon be ready. He eyed the strange, round scars marring Maram’s great hairy body, but did not remark upon them. He seemed to be waiting for a more appropriate moment to tell of things that he was loath to tell and to hear of things that he might not want to hear.

At last, when we were all well-scrubbed and attired in clean clothing, Lord Harsha called us to dinner at his long table just off his great room. As we were about to take our seats, the clopping of a horse’s hooves against the dirt lane outside made me draw my sword and hurry over to the door. I said to Lord Harsha, ‘We have enemies we haven’t told you about, and we are not ready to make our presence known.’

‘It’s all right,’ he said to me as he stood by the window and peered out into the twilight. ‘It’s only Joshu Kadar – in all the excitement, I forgot to tell you that we’ve invited him to dinner. Surely you can trust him’.

Surely, I thought, I could. Joshu had been Asaru’s squire, and he had stood by the horses that day when Salmelu had shot me with his poisoned arrow – and he had served my brother faithfully at the Culhadosh Commons as well.

‘All right,’ I said, sheathing my sword and leaning it against the side of the table. ‘But please let me know if you are expecting anyone else.’

Lord Harsha opened the door and invited Joshu inside. The youth I remembered from the days when Asaru and I had taught him fighting skills had grown into a powerful man nearly as tall as I. He wore a single battle ribbon in his long hair. With his square face and strong features, he had a sort of overbearing handsomeness that reminded me of my brother, Yarashan. But in his manner Joshu seemed rather modest, respectful and even sweet. The moment he saw me, he nearly dropped the bouquet of flowers that he was holding and called out happily: ‘Lord Valashu! Thank the stars you have returned! We all thought you were dead!’

He bowed his head to me, then greeted Master Juwain with the great affection that many of my people hold for the masters of the Brotherhood. With perfect politeness he likewise said hello to the rest of our company, but when he came to Maram, I felt the burn of embarrassment heating up his face, and he could hardly speak to him. He gave his flowers to Behira, who put them in a blue vase which she set on the table along with platters of food and pitchers of dark, frothy beer.

There came an awkward moment as Lord Harsha took his place at the head of the table and Joshu sat down in the chair to his right. I had the place of honor at the opposite end of the table, with Maram to my right and Atara at my left. It seemed a strange thing for Alphanderry to join us, for he didn’t so much sit upon his chair as occupy its space. He could of course eat no food nor imbibe no drink, and soon enough we would have to explain his strange existence as best we could. But as Behira seated herself across from Joshu, it came time for other explanations.

‘Well, here it is,’ Lord Harsha said, looking at Maram. Lord Harsha was not a man of subterfuge or nuance, and he had put off this unpleasant task longer than he had liked. ‘We did think you were dead, and too bad for that. And so I had to promise my daughter to another’

As Behira looked across the table at Joshu, and Joshu lowered his eyes toward the empty plate in front of him, Maram’s ruddy face flushed an even brighter red. And he called out, ‘But you said that you’d wait for our return!’

Lord Harsha sighed as he rubbed at his eye, and then said, ‘We did wait, for as long as seemed wise. Longer than a year it was. But you had told us that you were going to Argattha, and so what was there really to wait for?’

As Maram fought back his rising choler, he fell strangely silent. And so I spoke for him, saying, ‘We had indeed planned to go to Argattha, but in the end we set out on a different quest. My apologies if we misled you. It seemed the safest course, however, for then you could not betray our mission should any of our enemies come here and question you.’

Now Lord Harsha’s face filled with a choler of its own. He rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, which he too had leaned against the edge of the table. He said, ‘I have taken steel, wood and iron through my body in service of your father and grandfather, and have never betrayed anyone!’

I said to Lord Harsha: ‘My apologies, sir. But you know what the Red Dragon and the Prince of Ishka did to my mother and grandmother. Don’t be so sure you would be able to keep your silence if he did the same to your daughter.’

Lord Harsha removed his hand from his sword and made a fist. He looked at it a moment, before saying to me, ‘No, my apologies, Lord Valashu. These are hard, bad times. You did what you had to do, as we have done. And it’s good that we’re gathered here together, for this is a family matter, and you and your friends are like family to Sar Maram. And so you should advise him on what our course should be.’

‘What can our course be?’ Maram said. ‘Other than this: you promised Behira to me first! And promises must be kept!’

Lord Harsha pressed his hand against his eye patch as if he could still feel the piercing pain of the arrow that long ago had half-blinded him. And he said to Maram, ‘On the field of the Raaswash more than two years ago, you promised to wed my daughter, and I still see no ring upon her finger’

Now it was Behira’s turn to make a fist as she set her right hand over her left.

‘But I had duties!’ Maram said to Lord Harsha. ‘There were quests to be undertaken, journeys to be made, to Tria, across the Wendrush – and beyond. And the battles we fought were –’

‘Excuses,’ Lord Harsha snapped out. ‘For three years, you’ve been making excuses and putting my daughter off. Well, now it’s too late.’

‘But I love Behira!’ Maram half-shouted.

At this, Behira lifted up her head and turned to gaze down the table at Maram. Her face brightened with hope and longing. It was the first time, I thought, that either she or any of us had heard Maram announce his affection for her so openly.

‘Love,’ Lord Harsha said to Maram, ‘is the fire that lights the stars, and we should all surrender up our deepest love to the One that created them. And a father loves his daughter, which is why I promised Behira to you in the first place, for every hour I had to bear my daughter’s talk of loving you. But everyone knows that such love matches often end unhappily. That kind of love is only for the stars, not for men and women, for it quickly burns out.’

At this, I reached over and took hold of Atara’s hand. The warmth of her fingers squeezing mine reminded me of that bright and beautiful star to which our souls would always return. I did not believe that it could ever die.

‘Are you saying,’ Maram asked Lord Harsha, ‘that a man should not love his wife?’

On the wall above the table hung a bright tapestry that Lord Harsha’s dead wife had once woven. He gazed at it with an obvious fondness, and he said, ‘Of course a man should come to love his wife. But it is best if marriage comes first, and so then a man does not let love sweep away his reason so that he loses sight of the more important things.’

‘But what could be more important than love?’ Maram asked.

And Lord Harsha told him, ‘Honor, above all else.’

‘But I had to honor my duty to Val, didn’t I?’

Lord Harsha nodded his head. ‘Certainly you did. But before you went off with him, you might have married my daughter and given her your name.’

‘But I –’

‘Too, you might have given her your estates, such as they are, and most important of all, a child.’

As the look of longing lighting up Behira’s face grew even brighter, Maram closed his mouth, for he seemed to have run out of objections. And then he said, ‘But our journeys were dangerous! You can’t imagine! I didn’t want to leave behind a fatherless child.’

Lord Harsha sighed at this, then said, ‘In our land, since the Great Battle, there are many fatherless children. And too few men to be husbands to all the widows and maidens.’

All my life, I had heard of the ancient Battle of the Sarburn referred to in this way, but it seemed strange for Lord Harsha to give the recent Battle of the Culhadosh Commons that name as well.

‘Sar Joshu himself,’ Lord Harsha continued, ‘lost his father and both his brothers there.’

Joshu looked straight at me then, and I felt in him the pain of a loss that was scarcely less than my own. I remembered that his mother had died giving him birth, while his two older sisters had been married off. Joshu had inherited his family’s rich farm lands only a few miles from here, and who could blame Lord Harsha for wanting to join estates and take this orphan into his own family?

‘Sar Joshu,’ I said, looking down the table. I studied the two diamonds set into the silver ring that encircled his finger. ‘Before the battle, my brother gave you your warrior’s ring. And now you wear that of a knight?’

Sar Joshu bowed his head at this, but seemed too modest to say anything. And so Lord Harsha told us of his deeds: ‘You came late, Lord Valashu, to the fight with the Ikurians, and so you did not witness Sar Joshu’s slaying of two knights in defense of Lord Asaru. Nor the lance wound through his lung that unhorsed him and nearly killed him. In reward for his valor, Lord Sharad, Lord Avijan and myself agreed that he should be knighted.’

Now I could only bow my head to Joshu. ‘Then Mesh has another fine knight to help make up for those who have fallen.’

‘Nothing,’ Joshu said, ‘can ever replace those who fell at the Great Battle.’

I thought of my father and my six brothers, and I said, ‘No, of course not. But as I have had to learn, life still must go on.’

‘And that,’ Lord Harsha said, ‘is exactly the point I have been trying to make. Morjin’s cursed armies cut down a whole forest of warriors and knights. It’s time new seeds were planted and new trees were grown.’

I considered this as I studied the way that Joshu looked at Behira. I sensed in him a burning passion – but not for her.

‘Sar Joshu,’ I asked, ‘have you ever been in love?’

He looked down at his hands, and he said simply, ‘Yes, Lord Valashu.’

As Behira took charge of finally passing around the roasted chickens, blueberry muffins, mashed potatoes and asparagus that she had prepared for dinner, it came out that Joshu had indeed known the kind of all-consuming love that makes the very stars weep – and he still did. It seemed that he had been smitten by a young woman named Sarai Garvar, of the Lake Country Garvars. But a great lord had married her instead.

‘My father was to have spoken with her father, Lord Garvar, after the battle,’ Joshu told us. Although he shrugged his shoulders, I felt his throat tighten with a great sadness. ‘But my father died, my brothers, too, and so it nearly was with me. And so I lost her to another. Everyone knows how bitter Lord Tanu was when the enemy killed his wife during the sack of the Elahad castle. So who can blame him for wanting to take a new wife? And who can blame Lord Garvar for wanting to make a match with one of Mesh’s greatest lords?’

Lord Tanu, of course, had been not only my father’s second-in-command but held large estates around Godhra, and his family owned many of the smithies there. As Joshu had said, who could blame any father for wanting to join fortunes with such a man?

‘But Lord Tanu is old!’ Behira suddenly called out as she banged a spoonful of potatoes against her plate. She seemed outraged less for Joshu’s sake than for Lord Tanu’s new wife. ‘And Sarai is only my age!’

‘Here, now!’ Lord Harsha said, laying his hand upon her arm. ‘Mind the crockery, will you? Your mother made it herself out of good clay before you were born!’

Behira looked down at the disk of plain earthenware before her, and she fell into a silence. And I said to Joshu, ‘Then if any man should appreciate Maram’s feelings in this matter, it is you.’

‘I do,’ he agreed, nodding his head sadly to Maram. ‘But Lord Harsha is right: how can any man’s feelings count at a time such as this?’

Although I sensed his sympathy for Maram, there was steel in him too, and great stubbornness. I knew that, having lost one prospective bride, he would not easily surrender what Lord Harsha had rightly deemed as a good match.

For a while we busied ourselves eating the hearty food that Behira had prepared us. For dessert, she brought out a cherry pie and cheese, and made us chicory tea as well. But Maram wanted something stronger than this – stronger even than the black beer that he had been swilling all through dinner. And so he announced that he had to retrieve a gift from the barn; he nudged my knee beneath the table to indicate that I should follow him.

We stepped out into a warm spring night full of chirping crickets and twinkling stars. We lit the lantern that Lord Harsha had given us, then went into the barn, with its smells of cattle and chicken droppings. We rummaged around in the saddlebags that we had placed on the straw near our horses’ stalls. And Maram said to me, ‘This is not the homecoming I had imagined.’

I nodded my head at this, then asked him: ‘But can you really blame Lord Harsha for wanting what is best for Behira?’

I am best for her!’ Maram half-bellowed. Then his voice softened as he said, ‘I love her – this time, I’m really sure that I do.’

I tried not to smile at this, and I said, ‘But you have put off the wedding, again and again. Some might take this as a sign that you don’t really want to marry her’

‘That doesn’t mean I’m ready to let that little squire take her!’

‘Sar Joshu,’ I told him, ‘is a full knight now, and a good man.’

‘I don’t care if he’s a damn angel! He doesn’t love Behira as I do, and she doesn’t love him! Will you help with this, Val?’

I thought about this for a while then said, ‘You’re my best friend, but what I won’t do is to help you make Behira into an old maid.’

‘But I will marry her, if I can, as soon as our business here is done – I swear I will!’

Will you?’

He found his sword resting upon a bale of hay, and drew it out of its scabbard. He laid his hand on the flat of the blade and said, ‘I swear by all that I honor that I will marry Behira!’

I gripped his wrist, and urged him to sheathe his sword. Then I pointed at the bottle of brandy that Maram had pulled out of his saddlebags and set on top of the hay, too. I took his hand and placed it on the bottle.

‘Swear by all that you love,’ I told him, ‘that you will marry her’

‘Ah, all right then – I do, I do!’

‘Swear by me, Maram,’ I said, looking at him.

In the lantern’s flickering light, Maram looked back at me, and finally said, ‘Sometimes I think you ask too much of me, but I do swear by you.’

‘All right then,’ I said, clapping him on the shoulder. I retrieved the lantern from its hook on one of the barn’s wooden supports. ‘I will do what I can. It may be that there is something that Sar Joshu desires much more than marriage.’

We went back into the house, and Maram presented the brandy to Lord Harsha as a gift. He told him, ‘It’s the last of the finest vintage I’ve ever tasted, and I’ve been saving this bottle for you for at least a thousand miles.’

‘Thank you,’ Lord Harsha said, holding up the bottle to the room’s candles. Then, with a wry smile, he asked, ‘Will you help me drink it?’

After Behira had retrieved some cups from the adjacent great room and Lord Harsha had poured a bit of brandy into each, I gave them presents, too. For Behira I had silk bags full of rare spices: anise, pepper, cardamom, clove. To Lord Harsha I gave a simple steel throwing knife. He hefted it in his rough hands and promised to add it to his collection of swords, knives, maces, halberds and other weapons mounted on the wall of his great room. When I told him the story behind the knife, he sat looking at me and shaking his head.

‘This was Kane’s, and he wanted you to have it,’ I said to him. ‘When we were made captive in King Arsu’s encampment, one of Morjin’s High Priests made Kane cast the knife at Estrella and split an apple placed on top of her head.’

Lord Harsha’s hand closed around the knife’s handle as he regarded Estrella in amazement – and concern.

But Estrella remained nearly motionless nibbling on a gooey cherry that she had plucked from a slice of pie. Her large, dark eyes filled with a strange light. In the past, she had suffered greater torments than that which the Kallimun priest, Arch Uttam, had inflicted on her. It was her grace, however, to dwell in the present, most of the time, and here and now she seemed to be happy just sitting safe and sound with those she loved.

‘Well, you have stories to tell,’ Lord Harsha called out, ‘and we must hear them. Let’s drink a toast to your safe return from wherever it was that the stars called you.’

So saying, he lifted up his cup, and we all joined him in drinking Maram’s brandy.

‘All right,’ he said, ‘it’s clear that you haven’t come home just to see Maram happily wed to my daughter’

It came time to give an account of our journey. I said that we had set forth into the wilds of Ea on a quest to find the Maitreya. Many parts of our story I could not relate, or did not want to. It wouldn’t do for Lord Harsha – or anyone – to learn the location of the Brotherhood’s school or of the greatest of the gelstei crystals that they kept there. Of the terrible darkness I had found within myself in our passage of the Skadarak I kept silent, although I did speak of the Black Jade buried in the earth there and how this evil thing called out to capture one’s soul. Likewise I did not want to have to explain to Behira that the round scars marking Maram’s cheek and body had been torn into him by the teeth of a monstrous woman called Jezi Yaga. Nothing, however, kept me from telling of our journey through the Red Desert and crossing of the hellish and uncrossable Tar Harath. Behira listened in wonderment to the story of the little people’s magic wood hidden in the burning sands of the world’s worst wasteland – and how this Vild, as we called it, had quickened Alphanderry’s being so that he could speak and dwell almost as a real man. She wanted to hear more of the Singing Caves of Senta than I could have related in a month of evenings. At last though, I had to move on to our nightmarish search through Hesperu: nearly the darkest and worst of all the Dragon kingdoms. It was there, I told Behira and her father, in a village called Jhamrul, that we had come across a healer named Bemossed.

‘With a laying on of his hand,’ I said to Lord Harsha, ‘he healed a wound to Maram’s chest that even Master Juwain could not heal. In Bemossed gathers all that is best and brightest in men. It is almost certain that he is the Maitreya.’

Lord Harsha sipped his brandy as he looked at me. He said, ‘Once before you believed another was the Maitreya.’

Truly I had: myself. And the lies that I had told myself – and others – had inexorably brought Morjin’s armies down upon my land and had nearly destroyed all that I loved.

‘Once,’ I said to Lord Harsha, ‘I was wrong. This time I am not’

Now Lord Harsha took an even longer pull at his brandy as his single eye fixed upon me. And he said to me, ‘Something has changed in you, Lord Elahad. The way you speak – I cannot doubt that you tell the truth.’

‘Then do not doubt this either: when it is safe, the Maitreya will come forth. The Free Kingdoms must be made ready for him. And our kingdom, before all others, must be set in order. It is why I have returned.’

‘To become king!’ he said as his eye gleamed. ‘I knew it! Valashu Elahad, crowned King of Mesh – well, lad, I can’t tell you how often I’ve wished that day would come!’

Then his face fell into a frown, and the light went out of him. ‘But after what’s happened, how can that day ever come?’

I noticed Joshu Kadar studying me intently, and I asked, ‘Then has another already been made king?’

‘What!’ Lord Harsha said. ‘Have you had no news at all?’

‘No – we entered Mesh in secret, and have spoken to no one.’

‘Likely, it’s good that you haven’t. There are those who would not want you to gain your father’s throne. I can’t think that they would resort to a knife in the back, but as I said, these are bad times.’

‘Bad times, indeed,’ I said, looking down the table at him, ‘if you would even speak of such a thing.’

‘Well, with your father having sired seven sons, I never thought I would live to see such a day: Mesh’s throne empty, and at least three lords vying to claim it.’

I let my hand rest on my sword’s hilt, and I said, ‘Lord Tomavar, certainly’

Lord Harsha nodded his head. ‘He is the greatest contender – and he has become your enemy. He blames you for what happened to his wife.’

I looked down at my sword’s great diamond pommel glimmering in the candlelight, and I thought of how Morjin’s men had carried off the beautiful Vareva – most likely to ravishment and death. How could I blame Lord Tomavar for being stricken to his soul when I already blamed myself?

‘Too many,’ Lord Harsha told me, ‘still believe that you abandoned the castle out of vainglory. And then told the baldest of lies.’

‘But that itself is a lie!’ Joshu Kadar called out. His hand pressed against his chest as if his brandy had stuck in his throat and burned him. ‘Everyone who knows Valashu Elahad knows this! I have spoken of this everywhere! Many of my friends have, as well. Lord Valashu, they say, led us to victory in the Great Battle and should have been made king.’

‘He should have,’ Lord Harsha agreed with a sigh. ‘But on the battlefield, five thousand warriors stood for Lord Valashu, and eight thousand against, and that is that.’

‘That is not that!’ Joshu half-shouted. It must have alarmed him, I sensed, to speak with such vehemence to a lord knight who might become his father-in-law. ‘If the warriors were to stand again, they would acclaim Lord Valashu – I know they would!’

Lord Harsha sighed again, and he poured both Joshu and himself more brandy. And he said, ‘If the warriors were free to gather and stand, it might be so. But we might as well hope that horses had wings so that we could just fly to battle.’

He told us then that Lord Tomavar had made many of the knights and warriors who followed him swear oaths of loyalty in support of his kingship. In order for them to stand for another, he would have to relieve them of their oaths. So it was with Lord Tanu and Lord Avijan, the two other major contenders for Mesh’s throne.

‘Lord Avijan!’ I called out, shaking my head. This young lord resided in his family’s castle near Mount Eluru just to the north of the Valley of the Swans. ‘My father was very fond of him and trusted no man more.’

‘And no man is more trustworthy,’ Lord Harsha said. ‘Of all Mesh’s lords, none has spoken more forcefully in favor of your becoming king. But when you went off with your friends and did not return, he thought you must be dead, as everyone did. He never wanted to put himself forward against Lord Tomavar and Lord Tanu, but we persuaded him that he must’

We, Lord Harsha?’ I said to him.

I felt the blood and brandy heating up his rough, old face as he said, ‘Myself, yes, and Lord Sharad and Sar Jessu – and many others. Almost every warrior around Silvassu and the Valley of the Swans.’

‘Then have you taken oaths to support Lord Avijan?’

Lord Harsha rubbed at his face to hide his shame. ‘We had to. Otherwise we would have come under Lord Tomavar’s boot, or Lord Tanu’s. In any case …’

‘Yes?’

‘In any case, only one can become king, and we all agreed that no one deserves the throne more than Lord Avijan.’

I remained silent as I squeezed the hilt of my sword, and I felt Maram, Master Juwain and Liljana looking at me.

‘No one, of course,’ Lord Harsha went on, ‘except yourself. But we all thought you would never return.’

I gazed at him and said, ‘But I have returned.’

‘That you have, lad,’ he said. ‘And Lord Avijan would release us all from our oaths and be the first to stand for you. But Lord Tomavar commands six thousand warriors, and another four thousand follow Lord Tanu, and they will surely oppose you if you come forth.’

Although Atara, sitting near the middle of the table, kept her face still and stern, I could almost feel her heart beating in time with my own. I wondered if she had foreseen this moment in her scryer’s crystal sphere or what might befall next.

‘Will Lord Tanu and Lord Tomavar,’ I asked Lord Harsha, ‘oppose me so far as to go to war?’

I would rather die, I thought, than see Meshians slay Meshians.

‘Who can say?’ Lord Harsha muttered. ‘These are bad times, very bad. And since the Great Battle, Mesh is weaker, much too weak. New trees we need to stand in the ranks and face our enemies, but we’ll be a whole generation growing them. Our enemies know this. Already, it’s said, the Waashians are looking for a way to attack us. And the Urtuk already have: they invaded through the Eshur pass last fall. They weren’t many, only a thousand, and they might have been just testing our strength – and so Lord Tomavar’s army threw them back easily enough. And then there is Anjo.’

‘Anjo!’ I said. ‘But Anjo has never threatened us.’

‘No, and that is exactly the point: Anjo hasn’t had a real king in two hundred years, and can threaten no one. Her dukes and barons still battle each other bloody. You will not have heard that only two months ago, the Ishkans annexed Adar and Natesh. And King Hadaru still looks for other of Anjo’s domains to bite off. Lord Tanu has vowed that this must never happen to Mesh.’

‘And it must not!’ I told him.

‘No – and so Lord Tanu has said that Mesh must have a new king, and soon, if we don’t want to wind up like Anjo. Lord Tomavar has said the same thing. They have each demanded that the other stand aside, and have made threats.’

‘But if they make war upon each other,’ I said, ‘then they would make Mesh like Anjo!’

Lord Harsha shrugged his shoulders as his face fell sad and grave. He muttered into his cup of brandy: ‘These are bad times, the worst of times, so who can blame an old man for wanting to see his daughter well-wed and give his grandson his first sword? Now, in your father’s day, and your grandfather’s, no one would ever have thought that –’

‘Lord Harsha,’ I said, with greater force. ‘Will Lord Tomavar and Lord Tanu take up arms against me?’

With a jerk of his head, Lord Harsha downed the last of his brandy and sighed out, ‘I don’t know. Lord Tanu will be cautious, as always. Once he makes up his mind about something, though, he can strike fast and hold on like a bulldog. And Lord Tomavar …’

‘Yes?’ I said.

‘Lord Tomavar is burning for vengeance now. Full of the blood madness, do you understand? His warriors captured thirty of the Urtuk – and Lord Tomavar accused them of helping Morjin escape across the steppe with Vareva. And so he had them hacked to death.’

‘But that is not our way!’

‘No, it is not,’ he said. He let loose an even deeper sigh. ‘And so what will he do when you come forth to claim your father’s crown? That I don’t want to know, lad.’

The sound of steel forks against earthen plates full of pie rang out into the narrow room, and echoed off the stone walls. I noticed Liljana concentrating all her attention on Behira and Joshu, while Master Juwain looked at me as if admonishing me to find a way of peace in a world full of hate and vengeful swords.

‘What needs to be decided,’ Lord Harsha finally said to me, ‘is what you will do. Will you go to war for your father’s throne, Valashu Elahad?’

Would I draw my sword against my countrymen, I wondered? I sat considering this while I gripped Alkaladur’s hilt. As Lord Harsha had said, only one man could be king of Mesh.

‘There must be a way without war,’ I said to Lord Harsha, and everyone. ‘If I could step aside and see Lord Avijan crowned king, I would. Or even Lord Tomavar or Lord Tanu. But from what has been said here tonight, this is not possible.’

‘No,’ Lord Harsha agreed, ‘such a grace on your part might only make the situation worse.’

Atara, who had said little all during dinner, now drew forth her sparkling crystal, and told us: ‘Neither Lord Tanu nor Lord Tomavar will ever be king. Nor Lord Avijan. It must be Val – or no one.’

I tried not to smile at Atara’s seeming assurance. Most of the time, she refrained from saying such things. I could not tell if her words were a true prophecy or whether she wished the mere force of her statement to bring about the future that she willed to be.

I drew my sword a few inches out of its scabbard, and the flash of silustria warmed my blood. And I said, ‘It must be me. I never wanted this, but what other choice is there?’

‘But Val,’ Maram said, ‘what will you do? Coming forth now will be dangerous – even more dangerous than we had thought. And what if Kane’s worries prove out, and you find that some of your countrymen have joined the Order of the Dragon?’

At the mention of this secret society of blood drinkers and murderers who followed Morjin, Lord Harsha said, ‘It is bad enough to know that Prince Salmelu went over to the Red Dragon, and is now a filthy priest who calls himself by the filthy name of Igasho. For even one Valari in all the Nine Kingdoms to turn traitor this way is a disgrace.’

He tapped his sword and said, ‘Despite what I said earlier, I won’t believe that any man of Mesh would ever dishonor himself so – I won’t! And the warriors of the Valley of the Swan are as true as diamonds.’

‘Yes,’ Maram agreed with a nod of his head, ‘but will they be true to Val?’

‘Nine of ten will be – perhaps more.’

‘But what of Lord Tanu, then? His army is only a two-day march away. And Lord Tomavar? How long would it take him to lead his six thousand here – a couple of days more?’

How long, indeed, would the hot-headed Lord Tomavar need to march his army from the northwest down across our small kingdom?

Lord Harsha frowned at this as he rubbed the lines creasing his face. He had never been a quick thinker or a brilliant one, but once he decided on a thing, his reasoning usually shone with good common sense.

‘We had thought,’ I said to him, ‘that we might send out a call to those who would follow me to assemble at my father’s castle.’

Lord Harsha slowly shook his head at this. ‘That won’t do, lad. The castle is all burned out, and it would take a week even to get the gates working again. And Lord Tanu might move before you had enough warriors to man the walls.’

He drummed his thick fingers on the table as he looked at me.

‘What do you suggest then?’ I asked him.

‘Let’s do this,’ he said, looking at Joshu Kadar. ‘Sar Joshu and I will ride out tomorrow and gather up those we absolutely trust. We’ll escort you to Lord Avijan’s castle, where you’ll be safe. And then we’ll put out the word that Valashu Elahad has returned to Mesh. Two thousand warriors have sworn oaths to Lord Avijan, and another thousand, at least, look to the weather vane to see which way the wind will blow. Let’s see how many will declare for you.’

I thought about this for a while as I traded glances with Maram, Master Juwain and Liljana. Atara inclined her head toward me. Then I told Lord Harsha: ‘Very well, then, it will be as you have said.’

Our decision so stirred Joshu that he whipped forth his sword and raised it up toward me. ‘Tomorrow morning I will speak with Viku Aradam and Shivalad and a dozen others! I know they’ll all ride with you, Sire!’

This word seemed to hang in the air like a trumpet’s call. And Lord Harsha banged the table with his fist, and turned his angry eye on Joshu.

‘Here, now – that won’t do!’ he snapped. ‘You may call Lord Valashu “Sire” when the warriors have acclaimed him, but not before!’

Joshu bowed his head in acquiescence of Lord Harsha’s admonishment. Lord Harsha, as he should have known, was a stickler for the ancient forms, and he believed that a king must always draw his power from the will of the warriors whom he led.

‘All right, then,’ Lord Harsha said as he stood up from the table and picked up the brandy bottle. He went around the table filling up everyone’s cup. He returned to his place and raised his own as he said, ‘To Valashu Elahad – may he become the next in the unbroken line of Elahad kings and protect our sacred realm!’

After we had clinked cups and sipped our brandy, Behira stared across the table at Joshu and said, ‘Then tomorrow you’ll ride off again?’

At this, Joshu turned toward me. I sensed that he didn’t want to wed Behira half as much as he burned to take his revenge for what had happened upon the Culhadosh Commons. As our eyes met, I felt a bright flame come alive within him.

‘I must serve Lord Valashu,’ he told her. ‘There will be war – if not against Lord Tanu or Lord Tomavar, then against the Waashians when Lord Valashu becomes king. Or the Urtuk will invade in force, and the Mansurii with them. Perhaps Morjin himself will march against Mesh again. And when he does, I must ride with Lord Valashu.’

‘If he is your king, then you must,’ Lord Harsha agreed. ‘And so must I. And that is why we should arrange a wedding while we can.’

I felt Maram’s knee pressing against mine beneath the table, and I said to Lord Harsha, ‘I am afraid there will be war. Why not let the question of your daughter’s marriage wait until greater matters are settled?’

‘Do you mean, wait until one of Morjin’s knights puts a spear through Joshu’s other lung?’ Lord Harsha said bluntly.

As my father had once told me, sometimes problems worked out best if left alone. And death solved all of life’s problems.

‘Or Sar Maram,’ Lord Harsha said. ‘I would no more see him lying bloodied on the battlefield than I would Sar Joshu.’

In the dark corner of the room above Maram’s head, I caught a sense of a deeper darkness. The Ahrim, I knew, followed Maram as it did me.

‘I understand your concern,’ I said to Lord Harsha, ‘and I will do what I can to ease it. Do you know of the estate my family holds along the Kurash River?’

‘The lands by the Old Oaks?’ Lord Harsha said. ‘Five hundred acres of the best bottomland?’

‘Yes, those,’ I said. ‘It shall be my present to Behira at her wedding.’

Lord Harsha nodded his head at this as he regarded me. Ever a practical man, he said, ‘You’re even more generous than your father, lad. But suppose that neither Sar Joshu nor Sar Maram survive what is to come? Suppose – may the stars forbid it – that you yourself do not?’

‘Then,’ I told him, ‘let these lands be held in dower for Behira to whomever she might marry.’

‘Generous, indeed!’ Lord Harsha called out. Again he lifted up his cup. ‘Well, let us drink to that!’

At this, Maram smiled at me in gratitude. We raised our cups, even Master Juwain, though he would drink no intoxicants. Behira, however, sat still and stolid, refusing to touch her cup.

‘What’s wrong?’ Lord Harsha asked her.

And in a clear, strong voice, she said, ‘What if I don’t want to marry?’

Lord Harsha sat in a stunned silence staring at her. ‘Not marry – what do you mean?’

‘I mean, father, that I’m not sure I want to marry anyone.’

Her words struck Lord Harsha speechless, and he glared at her.

Then Behira looked down the table at Liljana, and caught her eye. Usually Liljana stayed out of such business, but something in Behira must have moved her, for she said, ‘There are other things a young woman can do besides marry.’

Her words caused Lord Harsha to turn his black blazing eye upon her. And he commanded Behira, ‘You won’t listen to such outlandish talk!’

But he wasn’t the only one in the Harsha family who could summon up the more wrathful emotions. Behira shook her head at her father and without warning exploded into what might have been a tantrum if it hadn’t been so well-reasoned: ‘Oh, won’t I? And why not? Why must I marry? Because you want grandsons, father? More meat to skewer on our enemies’ swords? I won’t see my children killed this way – I won’t! All this talk tonight of people dying and noble men defending Mesh while I wait and wait yet again for Maram or Joshu or someone else to return someday and favor me with their precious seeds – as if I’m no more than a field of dirt to plant them in! Well, what if I don’t want to wait?’

Lord Harsha, utterly taken aback by this outburst, stared at her and said, ‘But if you don’t marry, what do you think you will do?’

Behira looked at Atara sitting quietly as well-balanced and straight as one of her arrows. And Behira said, ‘The Sarni women, some of them, become warriors.’

‘The Sarni are savages!’ Lord Harsha shouted. Then I felt shame burning his face as he looked at Atara and said, ‘Forgive me, Princess!’

‘It’s all right,’ Atara said with a cold smile. ‘Sometimes we are savages – and worse.’

‘Do you see?’ Lord Harsha said to Behira. ‘Do you see?’

Behira turned to look down the table at me. Then she told her father, ‘I see a man who would become King of Mesh, and not be content merely to keep the roads in good repair and hold feasts. If Lord Elahad wins the throne, then there will be war – a war such as we’ve never seen. And we Valari women are supposed to be warriors aren’t we? With the whole world about to spill its blood, you can’t just expect us to sit around and hope for our men to return and bestow upon us babies!’

Lord Harsha forced himself to breathe in and out ten times before he made response to this: ‘Our women are warriors: warriors of the spirit. Who teaches our children to meditate, and so ennobles them with the grace and power of the One? Who teaches them to tell the truth? It’s the truth I’ll tell you now, as your mother would have if she were still alive: our women are the keepers of the very flame that makes us Valari.’

Behira placed her hand across her breast as she looked at me and said, ‘This flame burns for a better world, as it is with Lord Valashu. Whatever spirit I have, I wish to use in his service helping him to win. Then, father, it might be safe to wed and bring a child into the world.’

Lord Harsha, who had finally borne too much, banged his fist against the table and thundered: ‘You will wed when I say you will and whom I choose as your husband!’

At this, Behira burst into tears. But she soon gathered up her pride, and stood up from her chair. With an almost violent clacking of the crockery, she began stacking up our dirty plates. And she announced, ‘I’m going to do the dishes, and then go for a walk outside. Atara, will you help me? Liljana?’

Without another word, these three very willful women cleared the table and then disappeared into the kitchen, shutting the door behind them. Their voices hummed beyond it like the buzzing of bees from within a hive. Then Lord Harsha gazed at me with accusation lighting up his eye.

‘You have returned, Lord Elahad, to lead us to war,’ he said, ‘for now there is war even in my own house. These are bad times indeed – the worst times I’ve ever seen!’

For a while he sat sipping his brandy and rubbing at his temple. Then I smiled and said to him, ‘Tomorrow I’ll talk with Behira – it will all come out all right. There is always a way’

‘Hearing you say this,’ Lord Harsha told me, ‘I do believe it.’

‘I am no scryer,’ I said, ‘but your family shall have the lands that I spoke of, and you shall have many grandchildren as well.’

‘I want to believe that, too,’ he sighed out, reaching for the brandy bottle. ‘Well, let us make a toast to children then.’

The fiery taste of brandy lingered on my lips that night long after we all had left the table and had gone off to our beds. For hours I lay tossing and turning and dreaming of children: Behira’s brood of boys and girls playing happily in Lord Harsha’s wheatfields, and Daj and Estrella and the son or daughter whom Atara would someday bear for me. All the children in the world. Although it seemed a vain and vainglorious thing to imagine that their future and very lives depended upon my deeds, the painful throbbing of my heart told me that this was so. Tomorrow, I thought, and in the days that followed, I must do that which must be done in order to become king and finally defeat Morjin. Even if it seemed impossible, I must believe that there was always a way.

The Diamond Warriors

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