Ironcrown Moon (51 page)

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Authors: Julian May

Tags: #Kings and rulers, #Epic, #Fantasy fiction, #General, #Knights and knighthood, #Fantasy, #Fiction

BOOK: Ironcrown Moon
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Wix bent closer to look at the shining gem, his face suffused with wonder. “I’ve served the dear lass for all her natural life. Will you allow me to continue? Will you take me with you?”

“The journey will be long and we’ll sometimes travel in strange ways, but if you wish, you may come along.”

“I’m ready now,” he said simply.

Thalassa Dru restored the emerald to its hiding place, went to the chamber door, and opened it.

In the corridor outside were Ridcanndal, Lady Zimroth, and a group of other Glaumerie Guild members, looking both fearful and angry. She swung the door wide, and with a wordless gesture invited them to enter.

“Gone!” Ridcanndal exclaimed. “The sigils are gone—and you’ve taken our queen away as well!”

“She was already far from here.” The sorceress’s gentle face grew stern. “And while she reigned, you withheld your love and trust from her. So now prepare to receive a different sort of ruler.”

“Who?” Lady Zimroth demanded. “Who will take Ullanoth’s place? Will it be Beynor?”

But Thalassa Dru walked past her without another word, followed by Wix. The Guild members would have come after them and remonstrated further, but they were overcome by a strange lethargy that slowed their steps, and by the time they recovered, both the sorceress and the old man had vanished.

==========

Snudge bespoke news of the royal assassinations to Vra-Sulkorig at Gala Palace, making it plain to the Keeper of Arcana that he, not

Snudge himself, was the appropriate one to gather further information from official Didionite
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sources before informing the High King.

“And if His Grace shows signs of wanting to send me to Boarsden Castle,” Snudge added, “you must do your utmost to dissuade him.

The place is in a wild state of uproar, Brother Keeper. I read a few lips as I briefly scried it and learned that Prince Somarus has sprung up out of nowhere. He’s expected to arrive at the castle within the hour, to supervise the search for survivors of the disaster—not that there are any!—and give notice to the world that he’s the new King of Didion. You know what Somarus thinks of the Sovereignty. He’ll declare war on it as soon as he thinks he has a chance of winning.

And he’d probably throw the lot of us into a dungeon if he caught us snooping around. The lads and I intend to hotfoot it out of Didion as soon as we can. Our job is to find Princess Maudrayne, and I’m confident that we can do it. Tell Lord Stergos I might have important news for him soon.”

Bespeak me each day without fail, Sir Deveron. The High King insists that you keep him informed of your whereabouts.

“I’ll do my best. Farewell, Brother Keeper.”

Snudge cut the windthread and sat quietly on the floor of the parapet for a few minutes to recover his strength. Overcome by shock, Vra-Mattis hadn’t budged from the place where Snudge had left him, while spending some two hours overseeing the River Malle and

Boarsden Castle. The young Brother’s tears had dried, but his eyes were flat and staring and he seemed only half-conscious.

Snudge gently shook his shoulder. “Mat. Time to go back to the others. Up you get.”

“They were eaten,” he said in a listless voice. “Eaten.”

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Snudge pulled the unresisting novice to his feet. “It was a terrible thing, I agree. Perhaps you can say prayers for the victims later, when you’re feeling better.”

The two of them negotiated the curtain wall stairway with some difficulty, then returned to the trestle table outside the castle kitchen. The other guests had retired to their rooms, leaving only Snudge’s men dawdling over mugs of ale in the thickening twilight. The sky had become overcast. Torches flickered in a rising wind and a sound of clanking pots, sloshing water, and vulgar banter came from the adjacent scullery.

“We thought you’d fallen asleep somewhere, Deveron,” Sir Gavlok joked. Then he noticed his friend’s grim face. “What is it, man? You look like death.”

“Death’s what we have to deal with,” Snudge said. He beckoned to his younger armiger, Wil Baysdale. “Vra-Mattis has been overcome by exhaustion after a difficult windspeaking session.

See him off to bed and sit with him for an hour or so, to be sure he rests comfortably.”

Wil sprang up, a solicitous expression on his face, and led the faltering novice away.

When the two were gone, and Snudge had been served with ale by Valdos, his other squire, Gavlok said, “What’s this about death?”

“Salka monsters have attacked the barge carrying the Royal Family of Did-ion on its progress along the Malle River. The king and queen and their children have perished, along with all of their retainers and servants. So far, no one has any explanation why the monsters should have done such an incredible thing. They haven’t penetrated into Didion for nine hundred years.

Prince Somarus is on his way to

Boarsden Castle, which is a stronghold of his mother’s people, to seize the advantage. He’ll proclaim himself king, and I wouldn’t put it past him to do something rash—if not immediately, then perhaps within the next few days. All hell’s broken loose in Tarn as well.

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Princess Maudrayne has told her brother Liscanor that she’s the mother of King Con-rig’s eldest son and heir. Liscanor has passed the information on to the High Sealord Sernin. Unless I’m much mistaken, it won’t be long before he and Somarus begin exchanging seditious messages on the wind.”

While Gavlok and the squires sat in silence, stupefied by the enormity of the disaster, the Mountain Swordsman Radd Falcontop spoke up. “Sir Deveron, I must make bold to give you some advice. With conditions now so unsettled, and likely to get worse, it will be highly dangerous for a small party such as ours to continue along the Wold Road and into Tarn. The situation was dicey enough before—but the lawless partisans of Somarus will run rampant now that they need not fear retribution from King Honigalus. No travelers from Cathra will be safe.

If you are determined to go on, I beg you to bespeak Earl Marshal Parlian and request that a heavily armed company of troops be sent from Great Pass garrison to escort us.”

“I agree with Radd,” Hulo Roundbank said.

“But then we must forgo our disguise as simple young merchant-lords,” Gavlok protested.

“Our entire mission was predicated upon going stealthily, but it will be obvious that we’re on the king’s business if we travel with a mob of warriors.”

“We risk being killed from ambush if we continue in our present state,” Hulo said. “At best, we’d be taken prisoner and held for ransom by one of the robber-barons. All of western Didion favors Somarus for having denounced his late brother’s submission to the Sovereignty.”

Gavlok made a helpless gesture. “Perhaps we can adopt a different disguise. Or retrace our steps, go over to the Westley coast, and take ship from one of the ports there—”

Snudge said, “All of you be silent. There is another course of action open to us—one that I had fervently hoped to postpone until we were inside Tarn and close to the hiding place of the princess.”

They stared at him. His face was pale as he opened his shirt and drew out the golden chain with its two glowing moonstones. Gavlok uttered a gasp of astonishment at the sight, for he had no idea that his friend had acquired a second sigil. The others were only puzzled.

“My friends,” Snudge said, “all of you were told when you agreed to accompany me that this adventure had much to do with sorcery.

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Princess Maude and her son are guarded by the High Shaman of Tarn, one of the great magickers of the northland. Earlier, although you were not told of this, the two fire-raising villains were also involved in a matter of high sorcery. They used the fire to cover their theft of a valuable collection of magical amulets from the Royal Alchymist… amulets such as these.”

He lifted the stones for their inspection. When Radd reached out a curious hand and would have taken hold of them, Snudge exclaimed, “Beware! Anyone who touches these things without first gaining the permission of the owner risks being severely burned or even killed.

They are called sigils and are tools of the Beaconfolk, capable of formidable magic. I must also tell you that this magic exacts a price from the one who wields it, according to the difficulty of the action performed. A price of pain.”

“Then you are a sorcerer?” Hulo seemed dumfounded.

“No, only the Royal Intelligencer—King Conrig’s trusted snudge. I use the magic of the Beaconfolk only rarely and with great reluctance, and only in the service of the King’s Grace.

How I obtained these stones is a story I may not share with you. I will only say that I wish I had never laid eyes on the damned things, for they put my very soul in peril… Nevertheless, since I have them, I will use do them as I must.”

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“How do they work?” Radd asked. His face wore no expression of awe, as did those of his companion Swordsman and the two squires.

His was a coldly practical interest.

“This sigil is called Concealer. Using it, I can go invisible. And not only I myself, but also a few companions who stay close to me. You may have heard of the way the Mallmouth Bridge was opened to our invading army. Four fellow-armigers and I used Concealer to do the trick.”

“Could we use it to travel unseen to Tarn?” Radd asked eagerly.

“Alas, I fear not. It hides those within four arm’s lengths of me only. All of us and our mounts would not fit within its compass, and we could not go on foot.” He sighed and took up the second moonstone. “This other sigil, which I acquired only very recently, is the one that will, I think, enable us to fulfil our mission despite the difficulties facing us. Its name is Subtle Gateway.

It is capable of transporting me to the destination of my choice, instantly. It will also carry the lot of you along with me, if I ask it to.”

“Great God, Deveron!” Gavlok exclaimed. “Where did you find such a treasure?”

“I didn’t,” Snudge said bleakly. “The Subtle Gateway sigil was given to me, although I tried to refuse it, because a certain person wishes me to find Princess Maude and her son.”

“Who?” Gavlok demanded. “The Conjure-Queen? Lord Stergos?”

Snudge gave a hollow laugh, but only shook his head. “You must not ask me about him. All you need know is that using this magical transport is not a trivial matter. It will cause me to suffer agony while the magic is accomplished, and afterwards as well, while I sleep. I suspect that the greater the distance traveled, the greater the pain must be, and the longer I must endure it.”

They stared at him, horrified. The squire Valdos said softly, “So that’s why you hoped to hold off using it until we were closer to the hiding place of Princess Maudrayne.”

Snudge inclined his head in agreement. “If I ask Gateway to transport us for hundreds of leagues, the consequences will likely incapacitate me for several days. You, of course, would feel nothing.”

Someone gave an exhalation of relief.

“Practically speaking,” Snudge continued, “we’ll have to go to ground and hide out in some secure bolt-hole until I recover. Then I’ll use the other sigil, Concealer, to get the princess and her son away from her captors—”

“Wouldn’t Concealer’s magic afflict you sorely all over again?” Radd asked.

“No. Concealer is a so-called minor sigil. Its pain-debt is rather small, so long as one doesn’t go invisible for a considerable time. But

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Subtle Gateway is one of those deemed a Great Stone. If you use it, you pay a great price.”

“Oh.” The rugged old warrior was nonplussed, as though realizing for the first time the terrible import of what Snudge had been saying.

“What happens when we have Princess Maude?” Gavlok asked. “Do we take her and the lad back to His Grace in Gala?”

Snudge lowered his eyes. “That part of it remains to be seen. I have a certain proposal to put to the lady. Lord Stergos and I both pray she will accept it, since it would solve His Grace’s dilemma concerning her and the lad.”

The lanky knight’s gaze flickered, and he said no more, not wanting to talk of what might happen if Maudrayne refused.

The two Mountain Swordsmen also exchanged knowing glances. Hulo gave a tiny shrug, then said, “Sir Deveron, when would you undertake this magical journey?”

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“Tomorrow will be soon enough. We need time to prepare. We’ll ride out of here at dawn, then disappear on a lonely section of the Wold

Road, leaving our horses behind. It would be useful if you’d think about the supplies and equipment we’ll require for a mission that might take as long as a sennight. Princess Maudrayne is being kept in a wild and remote part of Tarn. All that we need, we’ll have to carry with us on our backs. I’ll leave you for a time now, since I must bespeak… someone and obtain his approval and certain important information.”

The others nodded and murmured, thinking he meant to use Vra-Mattis to consult the High King on the wind. Radd and Hulo began to put forth useful suggestions concerning food and weaponry.

“One further thing I must tell you.” Snudge spoke in a low voice. “We’ll not be taking my armiger Wil Baysdale along with us. I have good reason to believe he’s not reliable, which is why I sent him off to care for Mattis before telling you about all of this.”

The other armigers were thunderstruck, but Gavlok merely said, “A good idea. We should have done something about him before this. I

had meant to speak of something odd that happened last night at Great Pass garrison, but the day’s excitement drove it out of my mind.”

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