Ironcrown Moon (24 page)

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May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon

“Do you remember this amulet of mine?”

Gavlok nodded. “The lucky charm you wore when first you joined the Heart Companion company of armigers. I remember Mero teasing you about it. I don’t remember it glowing, though.”

“It wasn’t alive then. Now it is—and it’s not a lucky charm. It’s a powerful magical tool, a moonstone sigil named Concealer, able to render a man invisible. I took it from the body of Beynor’s agent Iscannon, the one I killed in Castle Vanguard.”

“Bloody hell! How does it work?”

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“All I do is command it. The sigil obeys only me because I’m its rightful owner. I can also use it to hide other persons who stick close to me, and even conceal things such as the horse I’m riding or a small boat that I sit in, if they’re within about four ells of me and the stone.

On the Mallmouth mission, I made all four of us armigers invisible. This is how we gained access to the drawbridge tower and opened the way for our army.”

“Putter me blind! And you say Mero wanted to steal this sigil from you?”

“Yes, and when it seemed he would fail in the attempt, he tried to smash it with his broadsword, not knowing that a sigil can defend itself from one who would separate it from its bonded owner. My Concealer burned Mero to ashes and was unharmed by his blow. I told King Conrig that the moonstone was lost during our fight to secure the bridge. I’ve maintained this fiction ever since—although His Grace suspects the lie.”

“But why deny the sigil’s existence? The ability to go invisible would be a priceless asset for…

one who is a king’s man.”

“You mean a spy,” Snudge said without rancor. “I declined to use Concealer anymore because it draws its power from the Beaconfolk, those terrible entities who masquerade as the Northern Lights.”

Gavlok looked at him askance and quaffed more beer. “I—I thought they were only a tale told to frighten naughty children.”

“Here in Cathra, where the Brothers of Zeth practice an orderly and scientific form of magic and influence the beliefs of the people, the true nature of the Beaconfolk has been nearly forgotten. But the people of Didion, Tarn, and Moss know full well that the ones they call the Great Lights or the Coldlight Army are very real. The Beaconfolk had a shadowy relationship with the Salka, the spunkies, and other inhuman beings who inhabited this island long before Bazekoy’s conquest. Through moonstone sigils like this Concealer, the Lights are capable of exerting a malignant influence on humankind as well.”

Gavlok eyed the thing with apprehension. “But only if you use its magic, right?”

“Yes. The Great Lights share their power with sigil owners, and extract a price in return. Each time one uses a sigil, one suffers subsequent pain during sleep until the debt is repaid. The suffering is proportional to the type of sorcery produced by the stone.”

“But… why should this be so?”

“The Beaconfolk have still another name: they’re the Pain-Eaters. Ages ago, they encouraged the Salka and some other inhuman creatures living on our island to make sigils so they could satisfy their diabolical hunger. Much later, a few human beings also used the stones. I was told by Lord Stergos that the Beaconfolk are both irascible and capricious. If they become angered—or sometimes for no good reason that people can fathom—they may abruptly condemn a sigil user to death, or even damn his soul to the Hell of Ice, where he lives and suffers forever.”

“Blessed Zeth, what a horror! I marvel that you’re willing to dare such peril by using that thing.”

Snudge replaced the moonstone inside his shirt. “Concealer is deemed a very minor sigil, and the pain it gives is not so severe, nor is there much danger of insulting the Beaconfolk through its use. But there exist so-called Great Stones, such as those owned by the Conjure-Queen, that inflict a prolonged and debilitating agony upon the owner and place the person using them in a more precarious position. One sort of Great Stone is called Weathermaker. Both Ullanoth and her brother Beynor used Weathermakers during the war with Didion to create strong winds and storms. Even worse is a sigil called Subtle Loophole, also owned by the Conjure-Queen. This kind of stone is

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May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon capable of scrying anyone or anything in the world, given proper instruction.

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Ullanoth has used her Great Stones overmuch in the service of our High King, out of besotted love for him, and greatly injured her health.

I think the woman must be daft… but then, I’ve never been in love myself.“

“So it’s true,” Gavlok whispered. “Conrig gained his Sovereignty through high sorcery, even though he publicly denies it.”

“I believe that our king’s own bravery and intelligence played a greater role in his triumph. That is why I remain his faithful servant. But the magic of the Beaconfolk also aided his cause, and so my conscience has been torn between loyalty to my liege lord and certain knowledge that sigils are evil and can’t help but ruin the souls of those who use them. Queen Ullanoth may do as she pleases with her own awful stones. But I faced a moral dilemma with my lesser one. I still don’t know if I’ve made the proper choice—but after thinking the matter over, I decided I would use Concealer again if it became absolutely necessary. I do this only because I’ve judged King Conrig’s cause to be worthy.”

“I understand.”

“On the Mallmouth Bridge mission, I didn’t tell my companions the true nature of Concealer: its link to the Beaconfolk. They knew only that it was a magical thing I’d taken from a Mosslander wizard. They were unaware that it could kill. They were also unaware that if I had died, its bond to me would have been severed—whereupon some foolish or wicked person might seize the inactive sigil with impunity and perhaps bring it to life again. There is a particular danger of this happening in Tarn, where we’re headed, because the shamans of that nation are both powerful and resentful of the Sovereignty. To prevent my sigil from falling into the wrong hands, I ask a boon of you. If I

should perish on this mission, take Concealer from my body and smash it to dust. You’ll know it’s harmless if the pale inner glow disappears. But if I only seem to be dead, or am separated somehow from the sigil and it still glows, then beware. The thing will harm you or even kill you if you touch it. Scoop it up instead with a metal implement and bury it deep where no man will ever find it. Will you do this for me, Gavlok?”

“I will.”

“My friend, I thank you.”

Snudge frowned as an unpleasant notion came to mind. There was small chance that their party would stumble upon the two thieves carrying the Trove of Darasilo. He’d windsearched for them on the journey from Gala to Teme as the king had commanded him, finding nothing. He thought it probable that the pair were well hidden by some sort of strong magic and traveling nowhere near the Great North

Road, which was alive with royal troops and reeves’ deputies who stopped and questioned anyone fitting the fugitives’ description.

Nevertheless, Snudge decided Gavlok had to be warned, in case the unlikely should happen.

“There’s something else I must tell you. Concealer isn’t the only moonstone sigil in existence.

Will you swear to similarly dispose of any others you may happen to find—whether they be alive or dead?”

“Of course I’ll swear, Deveron, if you really believe it’s necessary.”

“The notion of acquiring the powers of high sorcery doesn’t tempt you, then?”

“Great God, no!” The young knight was aghast. “It scares me stiff.”

Snudge released a long breath and slumped back in his chair. “You’re a fortunate man.

Pronounce the solemn oath.”

After Gavlok did so, the two of them ate ravenously. They were finishing jam tarts and the last of the beer when there came a scratching at the chamber door.

“Enter!” said Gavlok.

The apprentice windvoice Vra-Mattis poked his tousled head in. His face glowed with excitement. “Sir Deveron, I’ve been bespoken by

Vra-Sulkorig. It’s an important message for you from the High King.”

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May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon

Snudge felt the food in his belly congeal into an indigestible lump. In his fatigue, and his anxiety at confiding in Gavlok, he’d forgotten that Conrig had promised to transmit his decision about seeking help from the Conjure-Queen and her Loophole.

Gavlok climbed to his feet. “I must visit the jakes anyhow. I hope the news is good.” He pushed past the little Brother and disappeared.

Snudge said, “Come in, Mat, and close the door. The beer’s gone, or I’d offer you some. Have a tart, if you wish. I hope you and the others ate well.”

Mattis shrugged off the irrelevancy. “The High King wishes to inform you that there is fresh word of Princess Maudrayne.”

“What!”

“A witch of Donorvale in Tarn bespoke a blanket windcall to the Brethren at Gala Palace. This person, whose name is Yavenis, is an unsavory character who peddles nostrums and spells to the lower orders in the Tarnian capital. Nevertheless, she claimed to have important information about the princess, which she said she’d reveal in exchange for a large reward. The king authorized payment through the Sovereignty’s ambassador in Donorvale, and Yavenis related the following tale, which she supposedly received from an outlaw shaman of Northkeep called Blind Bozuk.”

He recited an abbreviated version of Maudrayne’s escape from the sea-hag, her arrival at Northkeep Castle with her maid “and the maid’s small son,” and her subsequent abduction by Ansel Pikan.

“But this Blind Bozuk has no notion of where Ansel may have taken the princess and the others?” Snudge asked.

“Yavenis says he told her that he didn’t know. He may have lied. Bozuk is apparently a talented spell-weaver who cannot be controlled by Ansel, hence his designation as an outlaw. His windsearching ability is exceptionally keen even if his eyesight is not. He was obliged to use Yavenis to bespeak his message to Gala Palace, since he lacks the ability to converse across great distances. Thus the two magickers will split the reward. Yavenis suspects that Bozuk will hold back any further information he may have about the princess until he can be sure of receiving a larger reward that he can keep all for himself.”

“Hmph.” Snudge nodded with grudging respect. It was the sensible thing for the rogue to do.

“Yavenis threw in another piece of intelligence for free. High Sealord Sernin set sail from Donorvale in the wee hours of this morning, accompanied by a fleet of fifteen swift warships. He was said to be en route to Northkeep, which is ruled by Maudrayne’s brother. All of the windvoices in the vicinity of that castle save Bozuk have been bound to silence by Ansel Pikan.

It’s possible that the Lord of

Northkeep intends to meet Sernin at sea and discuss his sister’s visit with him. Vra-Sulkorig said you would understand the potentially flammable political repercussions of this.”

Snudge groaned. “God’s Blood! If only we had set out to Tarn by ship! It’ll be more than ten days before we can reach the Tarnian coast traveling overland. Vra-Sulkorig gave no order for us to turn back?”

“Nay. As a matter of fact, we are instructed to ride north with all speed this very night.”

“What’s that?” Snudge leapt to his feet, his face suffused with incredulous anger. “You silly knave! Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Mattis was unruffled. “Because I was ordered to relate the other information first. Sulkorig said you must assimilate the news of Princess

Maudrayne calmly, before being informed about Queen Ullanoth… and Lord Kilian.”

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“Kilian?” Snudge was dumfounded. “What of him

?”

“I’m ordered to tell you of the Conjure-Queen’s doings first. At the king’s request, she has used her sorcery to locate the fleeing fire-raisers, Scarth and Felmar. The two Brothers are traveling up the eastern shore of Elk Lake, probably having ridden north from Gala through Heathley and the Beech River valley with many changes of horse. The queen oversaw them in early evening, approaching a village called Pikeport. They were then disguised as royal dispatch riders and were screened by a spell of couverture such as the Conjure-Queen had never encountered before. Both the reeve of the lakeshore and Count Olvan Elktor sent out large search parties, but they found nothing. However, if the villains realized that pursuit was closing in, they’d likely change their appearance and go to ground.”

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May, Julian - Boreal Moon 2 - Ironcrown Moon

“But why hasn’t Queen Ullanoth kept them in sight, guiding the chase?” Snudge demanded.

“Because she is at the point of death. Whatever magic she used to find the miscreant pair took a frightful toll of her strength. Indeed, the doctors at Royal Fenguard are fighting to save her life.”

So Ullanoth had peeped through Subtle Loophole once too often! “But surely the Brethren at Zeth Abbey would also have been enlisted into the search.”

“Vra-Sulkorig said they’ve had no success using windtalent. He suspects that the fugitives are shielded by an entirely new type of cover spell that defeats scrying. If this is true, and they have also discarded the golden gam-madions of their Order, it would explain why they’ve eluded all wind-searchers save the Conjure-Queen up until now. The High King says the matter now rests in your hands, Sir

Deveron,” The apprentice eyed Snudge with a mixture of puzzlement and speculation.

“Vra-Sulkorig had no notion what those curious words might mean, nor would King Conrig explain further.”

Snudge did not enlighten him, but instead rose from the table and gazed out of the solar window. It was nearly midnight and the sky had a carmine sunset glow that would linger for hours without fading. There was plenty of owl-light to enable them to press on, much as he shrank at the prospect. He was less sanguine than Conrig, however, about his own ability to windsearch the thieves. He’d exerted his talent heavily on the journey from Gala to Teme, and he was flagging like a foundering horse. And if the fugitives were indeed hiding under an impervious spell of couverture—