Lord of Lies (71 page)

King Kiritan slammed shut his book, and shouted at me 'Not for them! Not for
you,
Valashu Elahad!'

I stood staring at him as he stared at me. I couldn't move; I could hardly breathe. It was as if he had driven a spear through my chest. While many hundreds of people around me let loose murmurs of anger and looked at King Kiritan in astonishment Master fuwain came forward and stood by my side. He said to King Kiritan, 'Lord King, what is that book that you have brought here?'

'It is a chronicle written by Balakin, who was one of the Elijin sent to Ea in the year 795 of the Age of Swords.'

This news prompted exclamations and curious looks from the nobles sitting nearby. Master Juwain pointed at the crumbling volume on the table in front of King Kiritan and said, 'Where did you find this?'

King Kiritan grew instantly wroth as he barked out
'We
don't have to answer to
you.
However, since this is a matter of the utmost moment we will tell you that we found it in the library of our ancestors only last night.' 'I'm afraid I know of no such book written by any of the Elijin.'

'Indeed? Then the erudition of the masters of the Brotherhood fails them.'

Now it was Master Juwain's turn to glower at King Kiritan. My small teacher and friend, standing in his plain woolens at the table of the kings, seemed to swell with anger and pride. And then he called out to Ea's greatest king: 'Our erudition is no small thing. It has led me to a lake on the Wendrush, where I recovered
this.'

So saying, he drew forth his akashic crystal. The great lords and nobles of Tria, no strangers to the gelstei, leapt up from their tables to get a better look at the swirls of color spilling out of this unique gelstei over Master Juwain's hard little hands.

'In this stone,' Master Juwain said, 'is recorded Balakin's testament and annals of the Elder Ages - and much else. Nowhere have I found lines similar to those that you have read to us.'

'Indeed? Then perhaps you weren't seeking them diligently enough.'

'Not diligently enough!' Master Juwain cried out. 'I have spent nearly

every waking hour between the Lake of Mists and Tria seeking in this crystal for knowledge of the Shining One and the Lightstone!' 'Seeking
how,
then?'

'As you would a single book in your library that you were able to locate ... only last night.'

'Then that,' King Kiritan said, resting his hand on the book that his scribe had brought him, 'is your problem. Balakin tells in here of the stone you have found, it is a gelstei, and one from the stars - and therefore alive in the way of these crystals. Did you ever think simply to ask it for the knowledge you sought?'

'Ask . . .
this crystal?' Master Juwain said, staring at the pulses of green and glorre lighting the air around him.

'Indeed, indeed. Why don't you ask it, here, and now?'

Master Juwain cupped both his hands around the rim of the crystal as he murmured,
'Aulara, Auliama'.

At once, a great light blossomed out of the crystal. And there, beside Master Juwain, beside me, stood the ghost from the amphitheater. His noble face and bright eyes fell upon Master Juwain as he said,
'Aulara, Auliama!

'Sorcery!' Belur Narmada cried out as he jumped up from his table. 'This Master Healer summons ghosts!'

Throughout the hall, others picked up this cry: 'Sorcerer! Sorcerer!' Count Muar and Count Dario - and many of those around us - looked at Master Juwain with loathing and dread. I heard Maram murmur to himself, 'How did
he
get inside
that?
'

Master Juwain seemed as perplexed as he was. He seemed reluctant as well, to ask the question that King Kiritan had suggested to him. And so King Kiritan asked it for him: 'Well, wraith, will you tell us about the Maitreya and the Valari?'

Without hesitation, the ghost began singing out in the angels' musical language that only Master Juwain could understand:
'Li

Ardonaii irri jin lila
...'

This time he recited fewer words, more slowly, and Master Juwain was better able to understand them. By the time he had finished. Master Juwain's lumpy old face had fallen gray and grim. And King Kiritan called out: 'Well, you of the Brotherhood claim to understand all the ancient languages. Can you translate for us?'

Master Juwain slowly nodded his head. He looked at me and whispered, 'I'm sorry, Val.'

And then he began reciting for all to hear:

The Ardun, born of earth, delight

In flowers, butterflies, bright

New snow beneath the bluest sky

All things of earth that live and die,

Valari sail beyond the sky

Where heavens splendors terrify

In ancient longing to unite,

They seek a deeper, deathless light.

The angels, too, with searing sight

Behold the blazing starry height;

Reborn from fire, in flame they fly

Like silver swans to live, they die.

The Shining Ones who live and die

Between the whirling earth and sky

Make still the sun, all things ignite

And earth and heaven reunite.

The Fearless Ones find day in night

And in themselves the deathless light,

In flower, bird and butterfly,

In love: thus dying, do not die.

They see all things with equal eye:

The stones and stars, the earth and sky,

The Galadin, blazing bright.

The Elijin, Valari knight.

They bring to them the deathless light,

Their fearlessness and sacred sight;

To slay the doubts that terrify:

Their gift to them to gladly die.

And
so on wings the angels fly,

Valari sail beyond the sky,

But they are never Lords of Light

And not for them the Stone of Light

Not for them
! I thought, looking at the Ligtstone.
Not for
me.
Bitter acids burned inside my belly, and I was sick to my soul. From across the room, Maram reached out with his eyes as if to steady me His fat face was full of outrage, relief, pity and recognition.

King Kiritan pointed at Master Juwain and said, 'Out of the mouth of Lord Valashu's own teacher, the truth is made known!'

I looked over at Liljana, who was sitting next to Daj and weeping. Now King Kiritan pointed his finger at me and cried out, 'You knew all the time, you surely knew! Therefore, you, Valashu Elahad are a liar!'

What he said was surely true, but it was too much for Baltasar to bear. He rose up from his seat and whipped out his sword, all in one blindingly quick motion. This time, Lansar Raasharu failed to restrain him. Indeed, my father's faithful seneschal drew his own sword and aimed it at King Kiritan as he shouted: 'Lord Valashu is not a liar! All we've heard are some words from old books and this ghost. They're nothing against the truth of what Lord Valashu has done and who he is. He is the Maitreya! We all know he is!'

At this, Sunjay Naviru and Lord Noldru and the Guardians at their table raised up their voices to acclaim me as the Lord of Light. So did many of the knights in the retainers of King Kurshan and Prince Viromar at their tables - and King Kurshan, King Mohan and Prince Viromar themselves.

Then King Kiritan cast his cold eyes upon them, and upon the other Valari kings, one by one. And he called out, 'Valashu Elahad stands betrayed as the liar he is! To have pretended to be the Maitreya so that he could gain power for himself - what a foul crime this is! But he is not alone in this misdeed. The Valari kings and their knights have joined him in lying, hoping to see him proclaimed as Maitreya so that the Valari could rule the Alliance - and so rule the Free Kingdoms, and perhaps all of Ea! And rule
how
? With a despotism like unto that of the Red Dragon himself!'

A deathly silence descended upon the hall. For a moment. King Hadaru and King Waray and the other kings sat stunned and staring at King Kiritan in disbelief. Then many things happened at once. King Mohan rose up from his chair and drew his sword. So did King Sandarkan. The sound of other swords slipping from their sheaths rang out into air. King Kiritan called out to his guard captain, who hurried toward our table with a dozen of his men. From the hall's southern door came the sound of rattling mail, boots pounding against stone and shouting. Across the hall, the mob surged against the wall of shields, and in several places broke through- Around the tables lined up on both sides of the aisle, angry men and women began standing up and yelling at each other, some declaring that I must surely be the Maitreya, others crying out: 'Liar! Fool!' Next to Atara's table, two burly merchants had come to blows, and it seemed that the retinues of King Aryaman and King Tal might at any moment draw swords and fall against the nearby Valari knights - or against each other. Resentment and rage filled the air like black clouds just before a thunderstorm.

Then I saw Ravik Kirriland push aside King Kiritan's scribe and chamberlain as he made straight toward Atara's table His lean face and dark violet eyes fixed on her. There was murder in his heart - I was sure of this. Hate knows hate as the blind know the dark. It came to me then that Ravik must be the Skakaman called Noman. Under the cover of the chaos sweeping the room, he would come up beside Atara and slip a dagger into her, quickly and savagely, without being noticed. Thus he would silence the one person who might warn me who Noman was. And then he would come to murder me as well and steal the Lightstone.

'Atara!' I called out. I whipped free my sword. I leaned across the table and swept up the Lightstone, clasping it against my chest. 'Atara!'

There was no time to say more, no time to shove through the crowds and fall upon Ravik, for he was quickly closing in upon her. I wanted to die myself then. My heart swelled inside me with an unbearable pain that nearly choked me and made me gasp for breath. This red-hot anguish of love gathered at my core like a knot of fire. And then the alchemy of evil transmuted love into hate. I hated Morjin for loosing this merciless creature upon Atara - and upon the world. I hated the One for making the world this way, with evil digging its' filthy black claws into all things and dragging even the most beautiful of beings down into despair and death. Most of all, I hated myself. For I should be as clean as new snow and as flawless as a diamond; I should have roses and starlight and life without end. Instead I held within myself pure dragon fire, black as soot, for all the light had burned out of it. As the man everyone called Ravik Kirriland drew up to Atara, this terrible flame built hotter and hotter in my heart until it was like hell-fire itself.

'Atara!' In my left hand, the Lightstone blazed like the sun; with my right hand, I gripped my sword and pointed it at Ravik. It was as if I held a lightning bolt, so brightly did the silver silustria flare. Then, as a dazzling darkness filled my eyes and the world stood still, all my fury poured out of me. It flashed through the air and struck straight into Ravik He cried out in agony, arching his back as he turned toward me and grasped at his chest. Even across the room, I could see the light die in his eyes. Then he fell to the floor with a sickening slap of flesh against cold stone, never to rise again.

'Lord of Light!' someone called out. And then another voice, even louder. 'Lord of Death!'

Across the hall, all eyes not staring in horror at Ravik's body fell upon me. The shock of what had happened stunned nearly everyone into motionlessness. Many of the merchants and nobles at the tables near Atara's were coughing, clasping their chests, bending over and retching from the terrible killing force that had spilled into them. Many looked at me in awe, and in dread, for no one had known that I had the power to slay this way.

'There was death in his eyes!' one of King Kiritan's magistrates called out. 'We all saw it!'

In his eyes,
I thought, recalling an old verse,
a healing light.

'Murderer!' A thin, pretty woman about Ravik's age stood up from his table and hurried over to kneel above him. I took her to be Ravik's wife. She pointed her finger at me and said, 'Why did you murder him, who only ever spoke praises of you?'

I took a step toward the place where Ravik lay crumpled on the floor, and everyone standing in my way moved aside as from a rabid dog. To the woman, I said. 'That is not your husband. He is a Skakaman, an evil thing sent by Morjin to assassinate King Kiritan's own daughter - and myself.'

'It
is
my Lord Ravik!' the woman shouted, bursting into tears as she stroked his face. 'What's the matter with you? He's the King's own friend - Atara's, too!'

As 1 moved closer to them, one of King Kiritan's chamberlains, an elegantly-dressed man with warm, honest eyes, attested that Ravik used to play chess and other games with Atara when she was a child. He looked up at me and said, 'Ravik loved Atara as if she were his own daughter. If he was rushing upon her, it was only to protect her from the violence you brought here this morning.'

I hesitated, looking down at Ravik's still form. In death, all his malice toward me had bled away.

Then Atara, still sitting in her chair above Ravik and his wife, turned her blindfolded face toward me And she said to me, 'Oh, Val! What have you done? What have you done?'

Now I wanted to retch myself, but there was nothing inside my belly except bitterness and pain. 1 reached my sword out toward Ravik's body, and I said, 'He
is
the Skakaman. He must be.'

Just then the commotion outside the hall's southern door grew louder. A voice I knew as well as my own called out to the guards there: 'Let me through, I say! Do you not see this medallion? So, I stood before the throne a year ago to make vows with everyone else, and I
will
stand here again. Let me through!' I looked over then to see Kane brazen his way into the hall. My mysterious friend made his way straight down the aisle toward the round table where King Kiritan stood staring at him in alarm. His white hair, thick as a snow tiger's fur, was cropped close, as I remem-bered. Although he was as old as the stars, he moved like a young tiger stalking his prey. His large body rippled with a barely-contained fury; beneath his travel-stained cloak and steel mail, his muscles bunched and relaxed with an almost palpable power. His bold face turned right and left as his black, blazing eyes scanned the people standing about him. As he strode closer, he seemed more kingly than any of the kings standing about watching him.