Lord of Lies. David Zindell

held his rather short body rigidly erect at all times. His face, steely and serious, was now lit up with pride because it was his turn to bear the Lightstone. He brought it forth and gave it to King Hadaru, even as I asked him. Then he stepped back and waited to see what King Hadaru would say – and what he would do.

      ‘Very good, very good,’ King Hadaru murmured. His fingers closed around the golden cup as his eyes drank in its light. He fairly trembled with lust, envy and greed at last fulfilled. ‘Very good, indeed.’

      ‘We have walked into a trap,’ I whispered back at Maram. ‘Let us hope that King Hadaru cannot escape it.’

      King Hadaru, who missed little of what occurred in his palace, or in his realm, shot me a swift, hard look. His thin lips broke into another smile. ‘Valashu Elahad, you must be honored for keeping your promise, after all.’

      ‘My father said that the Lightstone would be brought into Ishka.’

      ‘Yes,’ King Hadaru said, nodding at Prince Issur, ‘we had word of this. But no one thought it would be so soon.’

      ‘Soon means soon,’ I said, echoing my father’s words.

      ‘I confess you’ve caught us unawares. We’ve no stand on which to set the Lightstone, as your father keeps in his hall.’

      Now my hand, which had never left the hilt of my sword, gripped its black jade and the seven set diamonds tightly. It had come time to dash King Hadaru’s hopes, and I did not know what he would do.

      ‘That’s just as well,’ I said, ‘for no stand will be needed.’

      The frostiness of King Hadaru’s stare nearly froze my heart. ‘What do you mean, Lord Valashu?’

      ‘The Lightstone,’ I told him, ‘is on its way to Nar, even as are we.’

      I turned to nod at the Guardians behind me, and I saw that Lord Jehu and his two hundred knights lined up behind them were ready to draw their swords at their king’s command.

      ‘What?’ King Hadaru snarled out. ‘What treachery is this?’

      ‘No treachery at all, King Hadaru, but only need.’ I explained that the events in my father’s hall had impelled the decision to take the Lightstone on the road. ‘As Prince Issur has reminded my father, the Lightstone is to be shared among all the Valari.’

      ‘Yes, but first it was to be shared among the Ishkans!’ King Hadaru thundered. ‘This was the promise made on the field of the Raaswash!’

      ‘And it was shared there,’ I said, ‘on the day that my companions and I returned from Argattha. Every warrior and knight in your army held it in his hands.’

      To the side of the throne, Prince Issur’s plain face lit up with wonder as if he well-remembered the feel of the Lightstone’s gold gelstei. So it was with Lord Nadhru and Lord Solhtar and the many other Ishkans in King Hadaru’s hall.

      ‘And still it is being shared,’ I continued. I pointed at the golden bowl that King Hadaru now gripped in both hands. ‘Its light now graces your hall.’

      ‘For a night? For two? You promised that the Lightstone was to reside in Loviisa as it did in Silvassu.’

      ‘No, that promise was never made.’

      ‘It was made in spirit.’

      ‘No, not even in spirit, King Hadaru. If you search your heart, you will know this is true.’

      King Hadaru glared at me with his cold, dark eyes. I knew him to be an honest man, with others if not himself.

      ‘Am I to be made to accept then,’ he said to me, ‘that you intend to take the Lightstone from my hall tomorrow? You promise me a birthday cake and leave me with only crumbs. I had hoped, I had hoped …’

      It was the great sorrow of his life, I thought, that so many of his hopes and dreams had turned to despair.

      ‘The Lightstone,’ I reminded him, ‘was made to be possessed by no man.’

      ‘No, possessed by none,’ he muttered. His eyes stabbed into me like cold swords. ‘But claimed by one.’

      ‘No one has claimed the Lightstone yet.’

      ‘No, not yet,’ he said as he gripped the cup even more tightly.

      ‘I’m only the Lightstone’s Guardian,’ I said. ‘And as its Guardian, I’m charged with deciding –’

      ‘Who decides matters in this hall?’ King Hadaru broke in. ‘Who is king in my kingdom? Who must protect all its treasures?’

      ‘The Lightstone belongs to no kingdom on earth. Its first Guardian brought it from the stars only to –’

      ‘The Elahad,’ he interrupted me again, ‘was the ancestor of the Ishkans, too. But even he did not claim to be the Maitreya.’

      The bitterness in King Hadaru’s voice was a poison in my veins. He stared at me with a strange mixture of loathing and longing. All kings wish for their sons great virtues and great deeds that prove them worthy of inheriting their realms. But on the Raaswash and six nights ago in my father’s hall, I had proved his firstborn, Salmelu, to be nothing more than a murderer and a traitor. And more, it had been I who had brought the Lightstone out of Argattha and not Salmelu or Prince Issur. And so I brought great shame to King Hadaru and all his line; my very existence and presence in his hall was an insult that tore his heart with an anguish almost too great for him to bear.

      ‘Do you remember standing in that ring?’ King Hadaru asked me.

      He pointed past my shoulder at the floor, where a great circle of red rosewood had been set into the white oak. The Guardians formed their lines behind it. I remembered too well standing in this ring of honor where the Ishkans fought their duels. There Salmelu’s sword had pierced my side; there I had wounded him nearly to the death.

      ‘You spared the life of him whose name we no longer speak in this house,’ King Hadaru said to me. ‘You should have slain him. Is this the compassion of a Maitreya?’

      I stood with my hand on my sword as I remembered the faces of the dead scryers and the slave girls; I found myself wishing that I had slain Salmelu.

      ‘Of course, it’s also said,’ King Hadaru continued, ‘that the Maitreya will be a great warlord. Have you ever led men into battle, Lord Valashu?’

      I looked at the rigid faces of Lord Issur and Lord Nadhru and those of the hundred Ishkans positioned near the throne. Behind me, lined up by the main doors, stood Lord Jehu and his knights, and their hearts beat with bloodlust and wrath. The Guardians I had led into Ishka trembled to test their swords against these men and take back the Lightstone from King Hadaru’s clutching hand. It was possible, I knew, that a battle would break out in this room in another moment. King Hadaru desired this. Some shame burns so deeply that it seems only blood can wash it clean.

      ‘It’s my hope,’ I said to him, ‘that we will fight no more battles.’

      He laughed his brittle, humorless laugh and said, ‘You would end war, so I’ve been told.’

      ‘Yes – we Valari were meant to be warriors of the spirit only.’

      ‘Is that so? Then whom are we to war against? And how are we to war against them?’

      With the valarda, I thought. With all the force of our souls.

      ‘An alliance,’ I said to him, ‘must be made to oppose the Red Dragon. This is why we’re journeying to the tournament.’

      I felt the coldness of King Hadaru’s eyes touching mine. And he must have felt a little of the fire of the dream that blazed inside me. ‘An alliance?’ he asked. ‘Waashians stand with Taroners? Ishkans stand with warriors of Mesh?’

      ‘Even as we stand together in this room, King Hadaru. Even as we stood at the