The Lightstone: The Ninth Kingdom: Part One. David Zindell
on the road.’
I smiled again in appreciation of what must have been a hard ride down from the Brotherhood Sanctuary. My family all looked upon him approvingly for this act of seeming loyalty.
‘Thank you for coming to say goodbye,’ I told him.
‘Say goodbye?’ he called out. ‘No, no – I’ve come to say that I’d like to accompany you on your journey. That is, at least as far as Tria, if you’ll have me.’
This news surprised everyone, except perhaps my father, who gazed at Maram quietly. My mother gazed at him, too, with obvious gratitude that I wouldn’t be setting out at night on a dangerous journey alone.
‘Will I have you?’ I said to him. I felt as if the weight of my unaccustomed armor had suddenly been lifted from my shoulders. ‘Gladly. But what’s happened, Maram?’
‘Didn’t you read my letter?’
I patted the square of paper still folded into my belt. ‘No, my apologies, but there wasn’t time.’
‘Well,’ he began, ‘I couldn’t just abandon my best friend to go out questing alone, now could I?’
‘Is that all?’
Maram licked his lips as he glanced from my mother to Asaru, who was eyeing him discreetly. ‘Well, no, it is not all,’ he forced out. ‘I suppose I should tell you the truth: Lord Harsha has threatened to cut off my, ah … head.’
As Maram went on to relate, Lord Harsha had discovered him talking with Behira early that morning and had again drawn his sword. He had chased Maram up and down the women’s guest quarters, but his broken knee and Maram’s greater agility, much quickened by his panic, enabled Maram to evade the threatened decapitation – or worse. After Lord Harsha’s temper had cooled somewhat, he had told Maram to leave Mesh that day or face his sword when they next met. Maram had fled from the castle and returned to the Brotherhood Sanctuary to gather up his belongings. And then returned as quickly as he could to join me.
‘It would be an honor to have you with me,’ I told him. ‘But what about your schooling?’
‘I’ve only taken a leave of absence,’ he said. ‘I’m not quite ready to quit the Brotherhood altogether.’
And, it seemed, the Brotherhood wasn’t ready to quit him. Even as Maram started in his saddle at the sound of more horses coming up to the castle, I looked down the road to see Master Juwain riding another sorrel and leading two pack horses behind him. He made his way through the gateway and came to a halt near Maram. He glanced at the weapons that Maram bore. Maram must have persuaded him that the lance and sword would be used only for their protection and not war. He shook his head sadly at having yet again to bend the Brotherhood’s rules on Maram’s behalf.
Master Juwain quickly explained that the news of the quest had created a great stir among the Brothers. For three long ages they had sought the secrets of the Lightstone. And now, if the prophecy proved true, it seemed that this cup of healing might finally be found. And so the Brothers had decided to send Master Juwain to Tria to determine the veracity of the prophecy. That he also might have other, and more secret, business in the City of Light remained unsaid.
‘Then it isn’t your intention to make this quest?’ my father asked.
‘Not at this time. I’ll accompany Val only as far as Tria, if that’s agreeable with him.’
‘Nothing could please more, sir.’ I smiled, unable to hide my delight. ‘But it’s my intention to take the road through Ishka, and that may not prove entirely safe.’
‘Where can safety be found these days?’ Master Juwain said, looking up at the great iron gate and the castle walls all around us. ‘Lord Salmelu has promised you safe passage, and we’ll have to hope for the best.’
‘Very well, then,’ I told him.
And with that, I turned to look at my brothers one last time. I nodded my head to my grandmother and my mother, who was quietly weeping again. Then I smiled grimly at my father and said, ‘Farewell, sir.’
‘Farewell, Valashu Elahad,’ he said, speaking for the rest of my family. ‘May you always walk in the light of the One.’
At last I put on the great helm, whose hard steel face plates immediately cut out the sight of my weeping mother. I wheeled Altaru about and nudged him forward with a gentle pressure of my heels. Then, with Master Juwain and Maram following, I rode out through the gate toward the long road that led down from the castle. And so my father finally had the satisfaction of seeing me set out as a Valari knight in all his glory.
It was a clear night with the first stars slicing open the blue-black vault of the heavens. To the west, Arakel’s icy peak glowed blood-red in light of the sun lost somewhere beyond the world’s edge. To the east, Mount Eluru was already sunk in darkness. The cool air sifted through the slits in my helm, carrying the scents of forest and earth and almost infinite possibilities. Soon, after perhaps half a mile of such joyous travel, I took off my helm, the better to feel the starlight on my face. I listened to the measured beat of Altaru’s hooves against the hard-packed dirt as I looked out at the wonder of the world.
It seemed almost a foolish thing to begin such a long journey with night falling fast and deep all around us. But I knew that the moon would soon be up, and there would be light enough for riding along the well-made North Road that led toward Ishka. With the wind at my back and visions of golden cups blazing inside me, I thought that I might be able to ride perhaps until midnight. Certainly the seventh day of Soldru would come all too soon, and I wanted very badly to be in Tria with the knights of the free lands when King Kiritan called the great quest. Six hundred miles, as the raven flies, lay between Silvassu and Tria to the northwest. But I – we – would not be traveling as a bird flying free in the sky. There would be mountains to cross and rivers to ford, and the road toward that which the heart most desires is seldom straight.
And so we rode north through the gently rolling country of the Valley of the Swans. After an hour or so, the moon rose over the Culhadosh Range and silvered the fields and trees all about us. We rode in its soft light, which seemed to fill all the valley like a marvelous shimmering liquid. The farmhouses we passed sent plumes of smoke curling up black against the luminous sky. And in the yards of each of those houses, I thought, no matter how tiring the day’s work had been, warriors would be practicing at arms while their wives taught their children the meditative discipline so vital to all that was Valari. Only later would they take their evening meal, perhaps of cheese and apples and black barley bread. It came to me that I would miss these simple foods, grown out of Meshian soil, rich in tastes of the star-touched earth that recalled the deepest dreams of my people. I wondered if I were seeing my homeland for the last time even while strangely beholding it as if for the first time. It came to me as well that a Valari warrior, with sword and shield and a lifetime of discipline drilled into his soul, was much more than a dealer of death. For everything about me – the rocks and earth, the wind and trees and starlight – were just the things of life, and ultimately a warrior existed only to protect life and the land and people that he loved.
We made camp late that night in a fallow field by a small hill off the side of the road. The farmer who owned it, an old man named Yushur Kaldad, came out to greet us with a pot of stew that his wife had made. Although he hadn’t been present at the feast, he had heard of my quest. After giving us permission to make a fire, he wished me well and walked back through the moonlight toward his little stone house.
‘It’s a lovely night,’ I said to Maram as I tied Altaru to the wooden fence by the side of the field. There was thick grass growing all about the fence, which would make the horses happy. ‘We don’t really need a fire.’
Maram, working with Master Juwain, had already spread the sleeping furs across the husks of old barley that covered the cool ground. He moved off toward the rocks at the side of the road, and told me, ‘I’m worried about bears.’
‘But there aren’t many bears in this part of the valley,’ I told him.
‘Not