Ironcrown Moon: Part Two of the Boreal Moon Tale. Julian May
I grieve to see you so wounded.’
Snudge bent low over the bandaged face of the patient lying motionless on a bed in a room adjacent to the king’s suite. Only the hazel eyes were uncovered. They were partially open, with their lids blistered and lashes seared away, and darted aimlessly from side to side as if vainly seeking someone. Snudge felt his heart contract. Was the poor man blind?
‘My Lord Stergos, are you awake?’
Is it you, Deveron? The response came in unsteady wind-speech.
‘The skin around his mouth has been terribly burned,’ High King Conrig whispered. He sat on a stool beside his suffering brother, his own countenance a mask of anguish. ‘He may not be able to answer.’
Snudge said covertly, ‘He bespoke me. But I dare not let these other people hovering round about him know that we can converse mind-to-mind. Send them away. Lord Stergos is in great pain. He may slip into unconsciousness at any moment.’
Conrig climbed to his feet and addressed the crowd of red-robed physicians and alchymists. All of you, leave us. Sir Deveron and I will confer privately for a few minutes and pray over my brother.’
The Brothers reluctantly filed out of the sickroom and closed the door. A subdued roll of thunder announced the approaching storm.
Snudge said, ‘Lord Stergos, do you have a message for me? It’s safe to use windspeech. The others have gone away.’
Ah…Mustn’t compromise your secret, Deveron. Especially not now
‘No, my lord.’
All of them think…the explosion was attempt on my life. Even Con! Not true. I believe…someone demolished my quarters to get at the Trove of Darasilo You remember Kilian had it We never found…impossible to windsearch sigils…we thought he hid it somewhere in palace . he’d never entrust it to another.
‘I agree,’ Snudge said. ‘Shall I tell His Grace about this?’
‘Here!’ Conrig protested. ‘There’ll be no secrets kept from me!’
Tell him.
‘Sire,’ Snudge said firmly, ‘in matters of high sorcery, you must always be guided by the judgment and wisdom of your Reverend Brother. However, he’s given me permission to tell you his concerns. Do you remember the secret trove of inactive sigils and the two magical books that I discovered in the rooms of the former Royal Alchymist, Kilian Blackhorse?’
‘Yes. Our search after Kilian’s arrest turned up nothing, so I assumed they had been lost. Gossy said so, too. If the things had turned up, he planned to destroy them to keep them away from that cunning little bastard, Beynor of Moss. He and Kilian were cooking up some conspiracy together.’
‘Your brother believes that the sigils were hidden somewhere in the Royal Alchymist’s apartment by Kilian, before Lord Stergos himself took up residence there. He also thinks that the tarnblaze assault was an attempt to uncover the items so that they might be stolen away.’
Conrig nodded. ‘So we can presume that either Beynor or Kilian himself was responsible for the explosion?’
Beynor…exiled among Dawntide Salka. No way to escape. Queen Ulla assured us. But Kilian…friends at abbey…The windvoice trailed away.
Snudge said, ‘Lord Stergos thinks Beynor couldn’t have done it himself. He’s a virtual prisoner of the Salka on a remote island in the eastern Boreal Sea. Kilian is confined under house arrest in Zeth Abbey, but he has many friends – as we know too well – whom he may have converted to his cause.’
Conrig was on his feet, clenching his big fists. He began to pace back and forth. A flash of lightning lit the room, followed almost at once by a crash of thunder. ‘Damn that scheming wizard! I knew I should have lopped off his treacherous head. But our mother couldn’t bear losing her precious brother!’
Queen Mother Cataldis was a gentle but steel-willed woman. Neither Conrig nor Stergos could bring themselves to oppose her.
Three visiting Brothers…scholars…outside library yesterday when all the others were away at the Solstice Eve feast.
‘Lord Stergos says there were three suspicious Brothers of Zeth working near his apartment yesterday,’ Snudge said. ‘By the library.’
The High King bent over the bandaged man. ‘Gossy! Can you tell Snudge their names?’
Can’t recall. Ask Dean of Studies, Vra-Edzal.
Snudge reached for a wax tablet and stylus that lay on a bedside table beside a tray of medicines, wrote the name down, and handed the tablet to the king. ‘This man will know, sire.’
Deveron…examine my rooms. See if there really is a hiding place…empty. Those unholy tools of the Beaconfolk must not reach Kilian…Aahl The pain…very bad.
‘Never fear, my lord. I’ll do as you say. If Darasilo’s Trove has been stolen, the thieves can’t have gone far yet. We’ll catch them.’
The sigils and books must be destroyed You know what Kilian and Beynor would do with them. Even my dear brother might…Promise me!
‘I promise, my lord.’
The pain…the pain…No more, Deveron. Summon the doctors and I’ll take the poppy draft. God have mercy on me ..
‘What’s he saying?’ Conrig demanded.
‘He’s finished speaking. He wants the doctors. He’s in agony.’
Conrig strode to the door and shouted for the medical attendants to return. They flocked back, and several of them lifted the burn victim, parted the ointment-smeared bandages covering his mouth, and administered the narcotic draft that had been refused earlier.
‘You must leave him now, Your Grace,’ one of the doctors said. ‘He will sleep for many hours.’
Conrig scowled, but he finally turned away and beckoned Snudge to follow. When the two of them were alone in the corridor, the king asked sharply, ‘What did you promise Lord Stergos you would do?’
‘Pursue the mysterious Brothers,’ Snudge said evasively, ‘presuming they stole the sigils and the books.’
‘If those three are the villains who burned poor Gossy,’ the king said with quiet menace, ‘they shall have their own close acquaintance with flame.’
‘Perhaps they’re still hiding in the palace. But it’s more likely that they escaped in the confusion and fled the city. A search must begin at once, sire. You’ll need to summon this Vra-Edzal. He can provide the names and descriptions of the three, and perhaps even arrange for drawings of their faces. This would greatly assist both the windsearchers and the untalented hunters. The Lord Constable, Earl Marshal Parlian, and the other members of your Privy Council will have to know about this.’
Including Duke Feribor Blackhorse, who might have played a key role in the disaster! But there was no way of proving that, nor even any chance now of discussing the possibility with Stergos.
‘Hmm.’ Conrig looked away, thinking. ‘I must decide how much to tell my counselors. Unfortunately, we can’t avoid giving out some sort of description of the stolen trove. But it should be as vague as possible – old books of great value only to alchymists, and a few small stone carvings. We’ll offer a large reward, but make it seem that the most important consideration is capturing those who wounded Stergos and destroyed the library. All of the searchers will be sworn to secrecy. Others will learn soon enough about this damned collection of moonstone sigils, but we must keep their dread capability secret. Only you and I and Stergos must ever know of that.’
‘Not the Conjure-Queen?’ Snudge asked softly. ‘Her Subtle