Название | Sky Trillium |
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Автор произведения | Julian May |
Жанр | |
Серия | |
Издательство | |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780007401284 |
The little man shook his head, still uneasy. Like others of his race he was superficially human in appearance, having tiny slitted nostrils, a broad mouth with small sharp teeth at the fore, and narrow upstanding ears rising on either side of his hunter’s cap. Many years ago he had been Royal Huntsman to King Krain of Ruwenda, Kadiya’s late father. When she was but a tiny girl, Jagun had taken her into the Mazy Mire that comprised so much of the little plateau kingdom, teaching her many of its secrets and giving her the mire-name Farseer because of her keen vision. The nickname had proved prophetic when Kadiya became the custodian of the Three-Lobed Burning Eye and the protector of the aboriginal Folk who shared the World of the Three Moons with humankind.
Over the years, Jagun had remained Kadiya’s closest friend and deputy. Sometimes, to her chagrin, he seemed to forget that she was no longer a child, upbraiding her for her hot temper and occasional woth-headed stubbornness. The most annoying thing about this habit of his was that he was often in the right.
‘You must realize, Farseer,’ Jagun now said gravely, ‘that this particular conflict with the Skritek was far from ordinary. Roragath’s tale of a lying Star Man must have been as great a shock to you as it was to me.’
‘The notion of the Vanished Ones returning is nonsense,’ she scoffed. ‘And only the Lords of the Air know what manner of prodigy a “Sky Trillium” might be. As for the so-called Star Man –’
‘What if the worst has happened,’ Jagun ventured, ‘and the accursed sorcerer himself has come back once again from the dead?’
‘Impossible! Haramis’ own talisman told her that Orogastus had died.’ Kadiya’s lip curled in disgust. ‘And my silly sister has wept secretly for his damned soul ever since.’
‘Do not mock the White Lady’s honest emotion,’ Jagun said sternly, ‘especially when you have never known love’s passion yourself. One does not pick and choose whom to love – as I myself know to my sorrow.’
Kadiya looked at him in surprise. For as long as she had known Jagun, he had had no mate. But this was not the time to question him on such a delicate subject. ‘Do you think, then,’ she asked him, ‘that Orogastus might have left others to carry on his impious work? The six acolytes that we know of – the ones he deemed his Voices – most certainly perished. And no more apprentice wizards were found when my brother-in-law searched the haunts of Orogastus in the land of Tuzamen.’
‘Such persons might have fled from King Antar’s justice when news of their master’s doom reached them,’ Jagun said. ‘And if they were clever and avoided the overt use of magic, then they might also have escaped the White Lady’s scrutiny. Not even her Three-Winged Circle can oversee every part of the world, every moment of the day and night.’
Kadiya finished her bread and adop and began to pry open blok-nuts with her small dagger and prick out the meats for the two of them. ‘It is more likely that this so-called Star Man is nothing but an imposter, an agent of some enemy of Laboruwenda intent on stirring up trouble for political reasons. It was very clever to arouse the Skritek now, at the beginning of the rains. The court of Anigel and Antar is about to withdraw to the Labornoki flatlands for the winter, leaving behind only a reduced garrison in Ruwenda. That young scoundrel, King Yondrimel of Zinora, would love to see the Two Thrones pulled into a series of ruinous conflicts with the swamp-fiends during the Wet Time. Then his nation might take over Laboruwenda’s western trade routes.’
‘That is plausible,’ Jagun conceded. ‘Roragath did say that the Star Man went off in that direction.’
‘If Yondrimel is up to mischief, King Antar and Queen Anigel will put a stop to his games in short order. He cannot afford to be caught blatantly undermining the stability of the Two Thrones. Other civilized nations will ostracize him, and he will have no one to peddle his pearls to except the Feathered Barbarians.’
Jagun had been rummaging in their bag of supplies, searching for a corkscrew. Finding one at last, he opened a flask of halaberry wine and filled two wooden cups.
‘The Lords of the Air grant that this matter be swiftly resolved,’ he said, in a pious toast. Kadiya lifted her own cup and they both drank. When Jagun spoke again, his tone held dire warning. ‘But if the Star Guild has truly revived, then not only our own land of Laboruwenda but also the rest of the world may be at the brink of catastrophe. With your talisman useless and that of Queen Anigel lost, there is no possibility of putting together the Threefold Sceptre of Power. And that is the only certain weapon against the ancient magic of the Star Guild.’
Eyeing him over the cup’s rim, Kadiya smiled. ‘Be of good cheer, old friend. My sisters and I will find out the truth of the situation. Tomorrow, after I have slept in my own bed and refreshed my frazzled brain, we will bespeak Haramis. For now, let us drink our wine and say no more.’
But the next day, when Kadiya had Jagun send the Call to the Archimage of the Land, using the speech without words, there was no reply.
‘Iriane!’ Haramis called softly into her talisman. ‘Iriane, do you hear me? I have very serious tidings to impart to you and I need your advice badly. Please answer.’
But the area within the Three-Winged Circle that she held, looking into it as one would study a hand mirror, remained a formless swirl of pearly luminescence. The plump, cheerful, azure-tinted features of the Archimage of the Sea did not appear.
Haramis frowned in perplexity. ‘Talisman, can you tell me why Iriane fails to respond?’
She is shielded by magic.
‘Is she in her own dwelling?’
No. She is in the Hollow Isles, among the Mere Folk of the far west.
‘Why does she refuse to bespeak me?’ Haramis asked the Circle impatiently.
The question is impertinent.
‘Bother! Now I suppose I shall have to go and find her.’ She took up her harp, which had rested on the carpet beside her, and struck a few slow chords to calm herself and assist fruitful thought. In a large ceramic pot beside the curtained window was a huge plant covered with three-petalled flowers as dark as night, and she gazed upon it and was comforted.
All evening long Haramis, Archimage of the Land, had remained in her study using the Three-Winged Circle to view the conflict between her sister Kadiya and the Skritek. Haramis had been both startled and deeply concerned at the words spoken by the leader of the monsters. No sooner was Kadiya victorious than Haramis cut away from the scene of the ambush hoping to consult with her colleague and mentor, the Blue Lady of the Sea.
Not for a moment did the young Archimage of the Land think of dealing with this present situation all by herself. If another Star Man was at large, bent on carrying out the schemes of his dead master, then the world was once again in terrible danger. As for the idea that the Vanished Ones might return, it was so incredible that Haramis hardly dared to consider it …
‘Oh, Iriane!’ she exclaimed aloud. ‘Of all the inconvenient times for you to go off and hide!’
With some effort, Haramis again stilled her agitation by strumming the harp and contemplating the Flowers. She must not let her unruly imagination run away with her. Before undertaking the task of hunting down the flighty Archimage of the Sea, she should first find out just who had fomented the uprising of the swamp-fiends. The Skritek aborigines were notoriously gullible, and the one who had incited them to hostility might be only some common human rogue.
She put down the harp and lifted her talisman once again. ‘Show me the person who told the Skritek that he was a member of the Star Guild.’
Obediently,