Lord of Lies (49 page)

'True, Aramesh claimed the Lightstone according to the ancient right of guardianship.' Sajagax stared at the golden cup in his hand with all the passion he might have reserved for a new bride. 'The right
you
Valari have always claimed for yourselves. But are not
all
those willing to shed blood in the Lightstone's defense its rightful guardians?'

Everyone, I thought, knew the story of how the Valari tribe long ago had been riven when Aryu had slain his brother and had stolen the Lightstone. But I doubted if Sajagax and the Sarni also knew that Aryu's descendants had used a varistei to alter their forms and so become the Aryans: a strong and rugged people whose blue eyes and fair skin were better suited to Thalu's cold mists. And with the exile of Sarngin Marshan, the Aryans had become the Sarni, and how should these fierce warriors want to believe that they were therefore descended from a murderer and the greatest thief in all history save Morjin himself?

'It was Elahad who brought the Lightstone to earth,' I told Sajagax. 'And it is
his
descendants who must bear the burden of guarding it.'

'So you say,' he muttered as he gazed at the little curve of gold that he gripped so tightly. 'So you Valari have always claimed.'

Lansar Raasharu fingered the hilt of his sword as he huffed out, 'We claim this: that the Lightstone was meant for the hand of the Maitreya and no other.'

'So you say,' Sajagax muttered again as he looked at me. 'I say it was meant to be used to defeat the Red Dragon.'

I tried to smile at the quarrelsome old chieftain but I could not. I said to him, 'Truly, it was. But defeat how? With the blood of yet more battles? Or defeat in light?'

Sajagax looked at me strangely. 'I've also heard it said that Valashu Elahad claims to be this Maitreya.'

'No, not yet,' I told him. 'We're hoping that the crystal we recovered from the Lake of Mists might tell if a claim should be made.'

'What is there tell, then? The Maitreya would be the greatest of warriors, the boldest and the strongest.'

His blue eyes bored into me, and his fierce gaze burned with blood-lust, pride and challenge.

The Sarni, it is said, covet gold as a drunkard does spirits, but they revere three things: the horse, the sky, and their given word. Sajagax had promised us safe passage through the Kurkmak's lands. This could not include despoiling us of our possessions. Atara had also once told me that her grandfather, though sometimes cruel, was always true. I had gambled everything upon this. Either one believes in men or not.

'My father,' I said to him, 'taught me that the greatest strength of all lies in following the will of the One.'

I looked at the Lightstone and held my hand out toward him.

Sajagax's hardened fingers only gripped it more tightly. His eyes narrowed with a terrible concentration; his jaws ground together as if trying to snap a bone. He seemed to fight a ferocious battle within himself. And then, with a sudden laughter that rumbled up from deep in his chest, he found his
own
immense will and slapped the little cup into my hand.

'Here, take it!' he roared out. 'Guard it with your life, if that's what you want! It matters not to me.'

I held the Lightstone for a moment before setting it down on the cushion in front of me. I said, 'It matters to
me
that you would help us in our purpose. It matters to all Ea.'

'Help you
howl
By having my men enlist as Guardians under your command? No Sarni warrior would have the stomach for that.'

'No,' I told him, 'we've Guardians enough already. But why don't you ride with us to Tria? As it was in the ancient days?'

He chewed at his mustache a few moments before saying, 'Kiritan has called a council of the kings of all the Free Lands.
Kings,
Valashu Elahad. Why would a Sarni chieftain wish to sit with such as these?'

A stew of emotions bubbled inside him, and I misinterpreted his sensibilities. I said to him, 'But surely King Kiritan has invited you to the conclave as well. Surely he would welcome you, even if you don't call yourself a king.'

'No, that I don't. That I never will,' he called out. 'Kings compel the service of their subjects as if they were women, and what satisfaction is there in that? I am a free man, and a leader of free men who follow me or not as they please. What business have I among
kings?'

'The business of defeating Morjin,' I told him.

'Morjin,' he spat out as he might a piece of moldy bread. 'We Kurmak will fight him no matter what your kings decide.'

I looked around the circle at his captains. Yaggod and Braggod were like great, tawny lions trembling to rend and slay, and Tringax and the scarred Urtukar seemed no less eager for war. All the Kurmak warriors in Sajagax's tent, I thought, would gather to his standard and would die sooner than admit to a fear of the Red Dragon's armies.

'Yes, you will fight, and you are to be honored for that,' I said to Sajagax. 'But wouldn't the chance for victory be greater with others by your side?'

'What
others, then? King Hanniban of Eanna? King Marshayk of Delu? They are weak.'

At the mention of his father's name, Maram bristled but said nothing. He took another sip of wine and glared at Sajagax.

'The Valari kings will fight,' I said to Sajagax. 'In the end, if it comes to war, they will have to fight.'

'Kings,'
Sajagax spat out again. 'Valari.'

'Yes, Valari,' I said. 'You've fought us many times, but you've never understood us. None of our kings rules except through the will of warriors as valiant and free as your own.'

Sajagax looked at the circles of grave-faced Guardians who sat watchfully throughout his tent. Then he traded looks with Jaalii and Mansak. He said to me, 'And you've never understood
my
people, either.'

Maram saw his chance for vengeance over Sajagax's slight, and he said, 'We understand that Morjin is buying the service of other Sarni tribes with gold.'

'Gold,' Sajagax said sadly as he gazed at the Lightstone. 'We love it too much. Ever has it been our downfall. Even now the Zayak demand a tribute of Morjin and believe that they have thus gained dominion over him. But in the end, as in ancient days, it is he who will make slaves of them.'

'The Zayak we fought on our way home from Argattha,' I said. 'And now it seems that the Adirii have gone over to Morjin, too.'

'No,' Sajagax said. 'Only one of their clans. And they shall be punished.'

'And what of the Marituk, then? They are your enemies. Have they thus become Morjin's friends?'

Sajagax turned toward the west as if he could gaze through the silken walls of his tent and far out across the Poru river into the Marituk's lands. 'We've had word that Morjin has sent many treasure chests to the Marituk. Will they make alliance with him? That is hard to say. They hate the Beast - but perhaps less than they do Alonia and the Kurmak.'

He went on to say that, as always, the Janjii would follow the Marituk, for they were under their fist.

'And what of the other tribes?' I asked him.

'In the south, the Siofok and Danyak stand ready to ride with Morjin. And the Usark and Tukulak are inclined to join them.'

'That is bad,' I said. 'And what of the Mansurii?'

'They hate Morjin - almost as much as they love his gold.'

I looked off at the gold-shod pillars holding up the tent, but I said nothing.

'The southern tribes are weak,' Sajagax said. 'But most of the central tribes remain strong enough to oppose him.'

'The Niuriu? Their chieftain gave us shelter on our journey.'

'Yes, Vishakan is a good man and will never yield to Morjin. And neither will Artukan and the Danladi.'

'But what of the Urtuk?' I said, naming the Sarni's most numerous tribe and Mesh's ancient enemy.

'The western Urtuk remain undecided,' Sajagax said. 'And the main dans would carve the livers from any emissaries Morjin sends and despoil them of their gold. The eastern Urtuk hate the Valari enough that they might join Morjin just for the pleasure of carving out
your
livers - and your hearts, as well.'

'Then the Sarni tribes each go their own way, as always.'

'Not
always,
Valashu Elahad. Even in Mesh, they must sing of Tulumar the Great.'

Truly, we
did
sing of this bloodthirsty warlord, but none of our songs were happy ones. In the year 2073 of the Age of Swords, Tulumar Elek, having united all the Sarni and gone on to conquer more civilized lands, took the title of Emperor of the Wendrush, Delu and Alonia. It was said, if not sung, that Morjin had aided Tulumar in his bid for world dominion and then betrayed him to his death with poison.

'As it was in the ancient days, so it is now,' Sajagax told us. 'Morjin cannot win without the Sarni. And if my people ride with him, he cannot lose.'

'Then that is all the more reason that
you
must ride with us to Tria. If an alliance is made against Morjin, if you and the Kurmak take part in this and the other tribes behold this miracle- then might not the Sarni be persuaded to ride
against
Morjin?'

'That is possible,' he said. 'But if the alliance fails, it will go badly. Few of the tribes will want to fight on the losing side.'

'The alliance won't fail,' I said. 'How can it not? What could bring the Valari together with Valari - and with Alonians and Delians? The Maitreya?'

'Yes, he.'

Sajagax pulled at the golden wire binding his braided hair as he looked at me. 'You ask a great deal. For me to ride to Tria at this time with the Marituk raiding in the north and the Red Dragon to be watched - and all on the hope that some untested youth might be the Shining Warrior out of legends none know to be true. No, no, this is too much.'

Baltasar started to reply to this, but Maram laid his hand on his knee and spoke instead: 'Lord Valashu is not untested. Haven't you listened to what I've said? In Argattha, he slew as many as did Atara. And under his leadership, we vanquished the Adirii as well. And only last month, he defeated all at the great tournament and became its champion.'

Sajagax nodded his head as he continued to regard me. And Braggod, a red-faced man with the longest and most impressive of mustaches, spoke for his chieftain: 'Sajagax has led us to victory in thirty-three battles. And as for your tournament, you didn't invite
Sarni
warriors, so what honor is there in claiming its championship?'

'Valari
knights,'
Maram said, glancing at the two diamonds of his ring, 'are matchless at arms.'

'With the sword, perhaps,' Braggod allowed. He lifted up his bow and shook it at Maram. 'But not with a truly noble weapon.'

'Our archers hit their targets, too,' Maram said.

'You say "our" as if you are truly a Valari. But no matter the diamonds you wear, you'll remain a fat prince of Delu.'

Maram's face flushed as red as Braggod's. He said to him, 'This
Delian
won a second in wrestling. And a third in archery.'

'In what
you
call archery. Shooting at targets that don't shoot back can hardly be counted as sport.'

'And what do you call sport then?'

'Why, shooting at each other from horseback, fat man.'

Now Sajagax and everyone in our circle looked at Maram, who seemed ready to choke on his bile and throttle the rude Braggod. I was afraid that despite himself, Maram was about to blunder his way into a duel. And so I gripped Maram's arm to steady him; to Braggod and the others, I said, 'Our Valari longbows weren't made for such work. And while in your lands, my knights may not engage in any sport that might draw Kurmak blood.'

If I had hoped to cool Maram's and Braggod's rising tempers, I hoped in vain. Braggod suddenly stood up, and the muscles along his ruddy neck and arms stood out like snakes swollen with blood. He shook his fist at Maram and said, 'We've other sports then, fat man. Why don't we see if you're as good at holding the horn as in blowing your own fat horn?'

'What do you mean?' Maram asked, now as puzzled as the rest of us.

'It's a test,' Braggod said. 'Each of us is given a horn of beer. We drink. The horns are refilled, once, twice - as many times as it takes. The one who holds his beer and remains standing is the better man.'

Maram's eyes gleamed. Braggod might as well have suggesting a test to see who could deflower the most virgins.

'Bring on your horns!' Maram called out with a smile. He fairly jumped to his feet. 'It's time we tested your Kurmak beer!'

Sajagax's warriors in their circles cried out: 'The
kradak
will drink against Braggod! Give him room to fall!' They stood and gathered around us, and so did many of my knights.

The Sarni cut their long, curved drinking horns from the heads of the greatest sagosk bulls. Such horns, it is said, are the measure of a man. Some are shorter, some longer, their lengths varying according to the amount of beer a warrior can consume. But the horns used in such contests as this were always of the longest: a tall man's arm scarcely sufficed to reach from the horn's mouth to its tip.

Sajagax's wives brought forth two horns, equal in length, brimming with frothy beer. Braggod took one and Maram the other. They stood eyeing each other. Braggod was slightly taller than Maram and seemed stronger, with long, lean muscles that showed beneath his sun-burned skin. He was thick through the body and hips, with massive legs from a lifetime of squeezing the ribs of horses. At a signal from Sajagax, they both lifted up their horns and threw back their heads as they drank deeply.

'Ah, not bad,' Maram said as he smacked his lips and then belched. 'In fact, it's really quite good. You brew your beer from that yellow rushk grain, don't you?'

Braggod belched, too, and licked the foam from his drooping mustache. His large blue eyes seemed as watery as a lake.

'Well,' Maram continued, 'it's more potent than Meshian beer, I'll give you that. Why don't we refill our horns?'

Braggod consented to this, and Sajagax's wives poured the yellow-brown beer into their horns. They raised them and began again.