The Lightstone: The Ninth Kingdom Page 15

  In truth, I already liked the palace of this sad, old king more than my father’s castle, for it was a splendid thing. The vast roof of the hall, supported by great ebony columns, opened out in sweeping curves high above us like an indoor sky made of some sort of bluish wood. The panels of the walls were of the blackest shatterwood and red cherry, carved with battle scenes of Ishka’s greatest victories. The darkness of these woods would have cast a gloom upon the hall if they hadn’t been waxed and polished to a mirrorlike finish. In their gleaming surfaces was reflected the light of the thousands of candles burning in their stands. As well, I saw thousands of leaping red flames in the deep gloss of the floor, which was of oak unadorned by any carpet. Its grainy whiteness was broken only by a circle some twenty feet across in front of the throne; no one stood upon this disk of red rosewood that must have been cut in Hesperu or Surrapam. I guessed that it symbolized the sun or perhaps one of the stars from which the Valari had come. I couldn’t see a speck of dust upon it, nor on any other surface in the hall, which smelled of lemon oil and other exotic polishes.

  ‘My cooks are preparing a meal, which we’ll take in the dining room,’ King Hadaru said to me. ‘Now, I would like to know if there is anything you need?’

  Maram, I noticed, was concentrating his attention on Irisha with a barely contained heat. I nudged him in the ribs with my elbow, and said to the King, ‘We need only to travel as quickly as possible at first light.’

  ‘Yes,’ King Hadaru said, ‘I’ve heard that you’ve pledged yourself to making this foolish quest.’

  ‘That’s true,’ I said, feeling the eyes of everyone near the throne fall upon me.

  ‘Well, the Lightstone will never be found. Your ancestor gave it to a stranger in Tria when he would have done better to bring it to Loviisa.’

  His thin lips pulled together in distaste as if he had eaten a lemon. I could almost feel the resentment burning inside him. It occurred to me then that love frustrated turns to hate; hope defeated becomes the bitterness of despair.

  ‘But what if the Lightstone were found?’ I asked him.

  ‘By you?’

  ‘Yes – why not?’

  ‘Then I have no doubt that you would bring it back to your castle and lock it away from the world.’

  ‘No, that would never happen,’ I told him. ‘The Lightstone’s radiance was meant to be shared by everyone. How else could we ever bring peace to the world?’

  ‘Peace?’ he snarled out. ‘How can there ever be peace when there are those who would claim what is not theirs?’

  At this, Salmelu traded sharp looks with Lord Nadhru, and I heard Lord Solhtar murmuring something about Korukel’s diamonds. Lord Mestivan, standing next to him in a bright blue tunic, nodded his head as he touched the red and white battle ribbons tied to his long black hair.

  ‘Perhaps someday,’ I said, ‘all will know what is rightfully theirs.’

  At this, King Hadaru let out a harsh laugh like the growl of a bear. And then he told me, ‘You, Valashu Elahad, are a dreamer – like your grandfather.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s true,’ I said. ‘But all men have dreams. What is yours, King Hadaru?’

  This question caught the King off guard, and his whole body tensed as if in anticipation of a blow. His eyes deepened with a faraway look; he seemed to be gazing through the beautiful woods of his palace out into the nighttime sky. He suffered, I thought, from a stinginess of spirit in place of austerity, a brittle hardness instead of true strength. He strove for a zealous cleanliness when he should have longed for purity. If it came to war, he would fight out of pride of possessiveness rather than the protecting of that which he cherished most. And yet despite these turnings of the Valari virtues, I also sensed in him a secret desire that both he and the world could be different. He might fight against Waas or Mesh with all the cool ferocity for which he was famed, but his greatest battle would always be with himself.

  ‘Of what do I dream?’ he murmured as he pulled at the ribbons tied to his hair. His eyes seemed to grow brighter as they turned back toward me. ‘I dream of diamonds,’ he finally told me. ‘I dream of the warriors of Ishka shining like ten thousand perfect, polished diamonds as they stand ready to fight for the riches they were born for.’

  Now it was my turn to be caught off guard. My grandfather had always said that we were born to stand in the light of the One and feel its radiance growing ever brighter within ourselves, and I had always believed that he had told me the truth.

  King Hadaru glanced at Lord Nadhru and asked, ‘And of what do you dream, Lord Nadhru?’

  Lord Nadhru fingered the hilt of his sword, and without hesitation, said, ‘Justice, Sire.’

  ‘And you, Lord Solhtar?’ the King said to the man next to him.

  Lord Solhtar fingered his thick beard for a moment before turning to look at the woman on his left. She had the thick bones and brown skin of a Galdan, and I wondered if she had come from that conquered kingdom. Lord Solhtar smiled at her in silent understanding, and then said, ‘I dream that someday we Ishkans may help all peoples regain what is rightfully theirs.’

  ‘Very good,’ Lord Issur suddenly said. Although he was Salmelu’s brother, he seemed to have little of his pugnaciousness and none of his arrogance. ‘That is a worthy dream.’

  King Hadaru must have caught a flash of concern from his young wife, for he suddenly looked at Irisha and said, ‘Do you agree?’

  I noticed Maram staring at Irisha intently as she brushed back her long hair and said, ‘Of course it is worthy – worthy of our noblest efforts. But shouldn’t we first look to the safeguarding of our own kingdom?’

  This ‘safeguarding,’ I thought, might well mean the eventual incorporation of Anjo into Ishka. Although Irisha’s father might owe allegiance to Anjo’s King Danashu in Sauvo, Danashu was a king in name only. And so Adar, much to Duke Barwan’s shame, had practically become a client state of Ishka. In truth, the only thing that kept Ishka from biting off pieces of Anjo one by one like a hungry bear was fear of Meshian steel.

  For a while I listened as these proud nobles talked among themselves. They seemed little different, in their sentiments and concerns, from the lords and knights of Mesh. And yet the Ishkans were different from us in other ways. They wore colors in their clothing and battle ribbons in their hair in a time of peace, something that my dour countrymen would never do. And some of them, at least, had taken foreign-born wives. But worst of all, I thought, was their habit of frequently using the pronoun ‘I’ in their speech, which sounded vulgar and self-glorifying.

  I remembered well my father telling me about the perils of using this deceptive word. And wasn’t he right, after all? It is vain. It is a distracting mirror. It shrinks the soul and traps it inside a box of conceits, superficialities and illusions. It keeps us from looking out into the universe and sensing our greater being in the vastness of the infinite and the fiery exhalations of the stars. In Mesh, one used the word in forgetfulness or almost as a curse – or, rarely, in moments of great emotion as when a man might whisper to his wife in the privacy of their house, ‘I love you.’

  As it grew closer to the hour appointed for dinner, King Hadaru listened patiently to all that everyone had to say. Then finally, with a heaviness both in his body and spirit, he looked at Salmelu and asked, ‘Of what do you dream, my son?’

  Salmelu seemed to have been waiting for this moment. His eyes flared like a fire stoked with fresh coal as he looked at me and said, ‘I dream of war. Isn’t that what a Valari is born for? To stand with his brothers on the battlefield and feel his heart beating as one with theirs, to see his enemies crumble and fall before him – is there anything better than this? How else can a warrior test himself? How else can he know if he is diamond inside or only glass that can be broken and ground beneath another man’s boot, to blow away like dust in the wind?’

  I took these words as a challenge. While King Hadaru watched me carefully, I held my knight’s ring up so that it gleamed in the
candlelight.

  And then I said, ‘All men are diamonds inside. And all life is a series of battles. It’s how we face this war that determines whether we are cut and polished like the diamonds of our rings or broken like bad stones.’

  At this, Master Juwain smiled at me approvingly, as did Lord Issur and many of the Ishkans. But Salmelu only stood there glowering at me. I could feel his malice toward me rising inside him like an angry snake.

  ‘I myself saw your father give you that ring,’ he said. ‘But I can hardly believe what I see now: a Valari warrior who does everything that he can to avoid war.’

  I took a deep breath to cool the heat rising through my belly. Then I told him, ‘If it’s war you want so badly, why not unite against the Red Dragon and fight him?’

  ‘Because I do not fear him as you seem to. No Ishkan does.’

  This, I thought, was not quite true. King Hadaru paled a little at the utterance of this evil name. It occurred to me then that he might not, after all, desire a war with Mesh that would weaken his kingdom at a dangerous time. Why wage war when he could gain his heart’s desire through marriage or merely making threats?

  ‘It’s no shame to be afraid,’ King Hadaru said. True courage is marching into battle in the face of fear.’

  At this Salmelu traded quick looks with both Lord Nadhru and Lord Mestivan. I sensed that they were the leaders of the Ishkan faction that campaigned for war.

  ‘Yes,’ Salmelu said. ‘Marching into battle, not merely banging on our shields and blowing our trumpets.’

  ‘Whether or not there is a battle with Mesh,’ the King reminded him, ‘is still not decided. As I recall, the emissaries I sent to Silvassu failed to obtain a commitment for battle.’

  At this, Salmelu’s face flushed as if he had been burned by the sun. He stared at his father and said, ‘If we failed, it was only because we weren’t empowered to declare war immediately in the face of King Shamesh’s evasions and postponements. If I were King –’

  ‘Yes?’ King Hadaru said in a voice like steel. ‘What would you do if you were King?’

  ‘I would march on Mesh immediately, snow or no snow in the passes.’ He glared at me and continued, ‘It’s obvious that the Meshians have no real will toward war.’

  ‘Then perhaps it is well that you’re not King,’ his father told him. ‘And perhaps it’s well that I haven’t yet named an heir.’

  At this, Irisha smiled at King Hadaru as she protectively cupped her hands to cover her belly. Salmelu glared at her with a hatefulness that I had thought he reserved only for me. He must have feared that Irisha would bear his father a new son who would simultaneously push him aside and consolidate the King’s claims on Anjo.

  King Hadaru turned to me and said, ‘Please forgive my son. He is hotheaded and does not always consider the effects of his acts.’

  Despite my dislike of Salmelu, I felt a rare moment of pity for him. Where my father ruled his sons out of love and respect, his father ruled him out of fear and shame.

  ‘No offense is taken,’ I told him. ‘It’s clear that Lord Salmelu acts out of what he believes to be Ishka’s best interest.’

  ‘You speak well, Sar Valashu,’ the King said to me. ‘If you weren’t committed to making this impossible quest of yours, your father would do well to make you an emissary to one of the courts of the Nine Kingdoms.’

  ‘Thank you, King Hadaru,’ I said.

  He sat back against the white wood of his throne, all the while regarding me deeply. And then he said, ‘You have your father’s eyes, you know. But you favor your mother. Elianora wi Solaru – now there is a beautiful woman.’

  I sensed that King Hadaru was trying to win me with flattery, toward what end I couldn’t see. But his attentions only embarrassed me. And they enraged Salmelu. He must have recalled that his father had once wooed my mother in vain, and had only married his mother as his second choice.

  ‘Yes,’ Salmelu choked out, ignoring his father’s last comment. ‘I agree that Sar Valashu should be made an emissary. Since it’s clear that he’s no warrior.’

  Maram, standing impatiently next to me, made a rumbling sound in his throat as if he might challenge Salmelu’s insult. But the sight of Salmelu’s kalama sheathed at his side helped him keep his silence. As for me, I looked down at the two diamonds sparkling in my ring, and wondered if Salmelu was right, after all.

  Then Salmelu continued, ’I would say that Sar Valashu does favor his father, at least in his avoidance of battle.’

  Why, I wondered, was Salmelu now insulting both my father and me in front of the entire Ishkan court? Was he trying to call me out? No, I thought, he couldn’t challenge me to a duel since that would violate his pledge of a safe passage through Ishka.

  ‘My father,’ I said, breathing deeply, ‘has fought many battles. No one has ever questioned his courage.’

  ‘Do you think it’s his courage I question?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Salmelu’s eyes stabbed into mine like daggers as he said, ‘It seems a noble thing, this pledge of yours to make your quest. But aren’t you really just fleeing from war and the possibility of death in battle?’

  I listened as several of the lords near Salmelu drew in quick breaths; I felt my own breath burning inside me as if I had inhaled fire. Was Salmelu trying to provoke me into calling him out? Well, I wouldn’t be provoked. To fight him would be to die, most likely, and that would only aid him in inciting a war that might kill my friends and brothers. I was a diamond, I told myself, a perfect diamond which no words could touch.

  And then, despite my intentions, I found myself suddenly gripping the hilt of my sword as I said to him, ‘Are you calling me a coward?’

  If he called me a coward, to my face, then that would be a challenge to a duel that I would have to answer.

  As my heart beat inside my chest so quickly and hard that I thought it might burst, I felt Master Juwain’s hand grip my arm firmly as if to give me strength. And then Maram finally found his voice; he tried to make a joke of Salmelu’s deadly insult, saying, ‘Val, a coward? Ha, ha – is the sky yellow? Val is the bravest man I know.’

  But his attempt to quiet our rising tempers had no effect on Salmelu. He just fixed me with his cold black eyes and said, ‘Did you think I was calling you a coward? Then please excuse me – I was only raising the question.’

  ‘Salmelu,’ his father said to him sternly.

  But Salmelu ignored him, too. ‘All men,’ he said, ‘should question their own courage. Especially kings. Especially kings who allow their sons to run away when battle is threatened.’

  ‘Salmelu!’ King Hadaru half-shouted at him.

  Now I gripped my sword so hard that my fingers hurt. To Salmelu, I said, ‘Are you calling my father a coward, then?’

  ‘Does a lion beget a lamb?’

  These words were like drops of kirax in my eyes, burning me, blinding me. Salmelu’s mocking face almost disappeared into the angry red sea closing in around me.

  ‘Does an eagle,’ he asked, ‘hatch a rabbit from its eggs?’

  The wily Salmelu was twisting his accusations into questions, and thus evading the responsibility for how I might respond. Why? Did he think I would simply impale myself on his sword?

  ‘It’s good,’ he said, ‘that your grandfather died before he saw what became of his line. Now there was a brave man. It takes true courage to sacrifice those whom we love. Who else would have let a hundred of his warriors die trying to protect him rather than simply defend his honor in a duel?’

  As I choked on my wrath and stopped breathing, the whole world seemed to come crushing down upon my chest. I allowed this terrible lie to break me open so that I might know the truth of who Salmelu really was. And in that moment of bitterness and blood, his hate became my hate, and mine fed the fires of his, and almost without knowing what I was doing, I whipped my sword from its sheath and pointed it at him.

  ‘Val,’ Maram cried out in a horrified voice, ‘p
ut away your sword!’

  But there was to be no putting away of swords that night-some things can never be undone. As Salmelu and his fellow Ishkans quickly drew their swords, I stared in silent resignation at this fence of gleaming steel. I had drawn on Salmelu, after all. Despite his taunts, I had done this of my own free will. And according to ancient law that all Valari held sacred, by this very act it had been I who had thus formally challenged him to a duel.

  ‘Hold! Hold yourselves now, I say!’ King Hadaru’s outraged voice cut through the murmurs of anticipation rippling through the hall. Then he arose from his throne and took a step forward. To Salmelu, he said, ‘I did not want this. I would not have you make this duel tonight – you needn’t accept Sar Valashu’s challenge.’

  Salmelu’s sword wavered not an inch as he pointed it toward me. He said, ‘Nevertheless, I do accept it.’

  The King stared at him for a long moment, and then sighed deeply. ‘So be it, then,’ he said. ‘A challenge has been made and accepted. You will face Sar Valashu in the ring of honor when you are both ready.’

  At this, Salmelu and the other lords slid their swords back into their sheaths, and I did the same. So, I thought, the time of my death has finally come. There was nothing more to say; there was nothing more to do – almost nothing.

  Because Valari knights do not fight duels wearing armor, the King excused me for a few minutes so that I might remove my mail. With Maram and Master Juwain following close behind me, I repaired to an anteroom off the side of the hall. It was a small room, whose rosewood paneling had the look and smell of dried blood. I stood staring at yet another battle scene carved into wood as the heavy door banged shut and shook the entire room.

  ‘Are you mad!’ Maram shouted at me as he smacked his huge fist into the palm of his hand. ‘Have you entirely taken leave of your senses? That man is the best swordsman in Ishka, and you drew on him!’

  ‘It… couldn’t be helped,’ I said.

  ‘Couldn’t be helped?’ he shouted. He seemed almost ready to smack his fist into me. ‘Well, why don’t you help it now? Why not just apologize to him and leave here as quickly as we can?’