The Shattered Stone Page 13

  “Nothing, Aunt Galla. Except … I have a tiring woman, but couldn’t Neva stay on here as my lady-in-waiting?”

  “Would you like that, Neva?” asked the queen.

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “So be it.” She glanced at Liall. “I suppose you would like to stay on here with your friends.”

  “If I can, Your Majesty.”

  “Are you a swordsman, too?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. Not as good as Ivo, but good enough.”

  “We shall let Tarnir see what he thinks of that. If he is satisfied, you shall be a member of my guard, too.” She rose. “I leave Ivo and Nord in your care, Tarnir. And Neva in yours, Devita.” And she moved off, followed by Jeranus and her guard.

  The warden remained there for a moment.

  “So,” he said. “We shall now have three from Nordan in the palace.”

  “Yes, father,” said Devita. “You do not object, do you?”

  He looked at Ivo, his face expressionless, then at Neva and Liall.

  “Why should I object?” he said and he went off after the queen.

  Chapter 15

  “That was your only reason for doing it?” said Neva.

  “Yes,” said Ivo. “If we want to find the last fragment of the stone, we must stay here. And I knew that if I became one of the Queen’s Guards it would not only give us a reason for staying, but it would make it possible for us to do so.”

  “You had no way of knowing that Liall and I would be able to stay, too.”

  “I was sure I could arrange it somehow. And I did. What I can’t understand is why you were so angry.”

  “You asked that before and I told you,” said Liall. “She was afraid of what might happen if you fought Vassek.”

  “Were you?” asked Ivo.

  “Yes,” said Neva. “And I still think it was childish of you to challenge him. That you did it because of the things he said. Because you wanted to show him—and the princess—what a fine swordsman you were!”

  “That’s ridiculous!” said Ivo. “The idea came to me before I ever saw or even heard of the princess-while we were talking to Jartan!”

  They were in Ivo’s room in the palace: a large room overlooking the sea. Neva had been given one next to Devita’s and had just joined Ivo and Liall.

  “If I may say so,” said Liall, “this is rather silly. Things have worked out very well—better than we had any right to expect.”

  “I agree,” said Ivo. “Especially if you’re accepted for the guard, too. Besides, we have something more important to talk about.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Jeranus wanted to know who had taught me to use a sword, and I said my father. He asked me who he was and I had to say something so I said Jartan. But you said our parents were dead.”

  “So far as we know they are,” said Neva.

  “Yes, but we should both tell the same story. I suppose the best thing would be to say that while our mother died some time ago, our father died only recently—within the past few months.”

  “I don’t like lying even when it’s in a good cause,” said Neva.

  “Neither do I. But I’m afraid we have no choice.”

  There was a knock on the door, and Tarnir came in.

  “Are you ready?” he asked Liall.

  “Yes.”

  “Then come along. You too, Ivo.”

  “May I come also?” asked Neva.

  “If you like.”

  He led the way along the corridor, down the stairs and into a small courtyard near the guard room where Jeranus was waiting.

  “Will you try him or shall I?” asked Tarnir.

  “Why don’t we let Ivo do it?” said Jeranus.

  “Very well.” He went into the guard room, came out with two bucklers and gave one to Ivo and the other to Liall. “Now let’s see what you can do, Nord.”

  Ivo and Liall faced one another and began their match. Since he had no idea how skilled a swordsman Liall was, Ivo had decided to hold back and remain on the defensive. But after the first few passes, he relaxed. Liall was a splendid swordsman—as good as Vassek and perhaps better. Warming to the contest, he went over to the attack and for several minutes they exchanged cuts and thrusts.

  “That will do,” said Tarnir finally. And turning to Jeranus, “What do you think?”

  “Ivo was not pressing him—which is understandable—but it does not matter. He is certainly the equal of anyone now on the guard.”

  “So I think too,” said Tarnir. “As Her Majesty said, we seem to have underestimated Nordan.”

  “Yes,” said Jeranus. He was looking thoughtfully at Ivo. “You say it was your father who taught you to use a sword?”

  “Yes, count.”

  “Strange. I have fought many men and watched many others, not just in the trials-at-arms here but in the wars with Andor. And there is only one man who used his point the way you do. I still bear the scars of my last meeting with him.”

  “Tharlak?” said Tarnir.

  “Yes.”

  “Who was he?” asked Ivo.

  “Andor’s war leader, the friend of King Lanis, and probably the greatest swordsman there or in Brunn. But he has been dead for many years.”

  “My father has been dead for only a few months.”

  “That is why I say it is strange. Well …” He was turning away when the Princess Devita came into the courtyard. “Were you looking for me, Your Highness?”

  “Yes. And for Neva. I thought I would find her here. I wondered what you had decided about Nord.”

  “Tarnir has accepted him for the guard. So he will stay here too.”

  “I’m delighted to hear that. You and Ivo must be pleased, Neva.”

  “We are, Your Highness.”

  “I’m glad. But now I think we should leave them to Tarnir. You will see them both again later.”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  Ivo and Liall watched them go, then gave their attention to Tarnir while he explained their duties to them. So far as was possible, he would let them stand guard together. But, best of all, they would share Ivo’s room, which was what they had hoped for.

  They all dined in the great hall that evening, a large vaulted room with windows overlooking the harbor. Neva was at the high table, sitting next to the princess, and Ivo and Liall were at the far end of the cross table with the other members of the guard. They hoped to be able to meet afterwards, but again the princess took Neva off with her and they had no chance to.

  The princess and Neva talked until quite late—mostly about Mirana and life at the palace—for which Neva was grateful since she was not anxious to talk about herself. She was about to help Devita get ready for bed when the queen sent for them.

  They found her on the balcony outside her chamber, which, like most of the rooms in the palace, overlooked the harbor and the sea beyond.

  “I was not sleepy,” said the queen, “and I hoped that you were not; that you would sit with me for a while.”

  “You know that I am always happy to, Aunt Galla,” said Devita.

  “Yes. You have always been patient with me and my moods—more so than your father—and therefore good for me.”

  “Father is a man and concerned with other things. But he loves you as much as I do.”

  “Perhaps.” Though it was dark on the balcony Neva sensed that the queen was looking at her rather than Devita and now she spoke to her. “This must all be very strange to you, child. To be living, not just among strangers, but in a place that is very different from the one you have always known.”

  “It is different, Your Majesty, and it is a little strange. But the princess has been very kind to me, and I am sure I will be happy here.”

  “I hope you will be. Tell me about Nordan.”

  “What would you like to know, Your Majesty?”

  “I have not been there for many years—not since the king was killed, and I remember it as a small village—small but pretty—set high in t
he hills.”

  “It is small, Your Majesty,” said Neva carefully. “And it is also pretty.”

  “Your brother told us a little about your father—at least that he was a swordsman. But what about your mother? What was she like?”

  “I don’t really know, Your Majesty. She died when I was very young, and I barely remember her.”

  “Surely your father talked of her.”

  “Very little. All I know of her is that she was very beautiful and that he loved her very much.”

  “It is easy to believe that she was beautiful, for you are, too. But who brought you up?”

  “Why, our father.”

  “Just your father?”

  “Yes.”

  “That is not so easy to believe.”

  “Why do you say that, Aunt Galla?” asked Devita.

  “Because men and women are very different—not just physically but in the way they think and talk and feel. Neva has a manner and a grace that she could not have learned from a man.”

  “Though her father may have brought her up, I am sure that she spent time with other women,” said Devita.

  “I did, Your Majesty,” said Neva.

  “While they may have taught her to weave and cook, they could not have taught her the things I am talking about. That requires a certain closeness.”

  “Why could there not have been a certain woman to whom she felt very close?” said Devita.

  “There must have been. And not just an ordinary woman. But why are you so defensive about her, Devita?”

  “Because I like her.”

  “So do I. That is why I am so interested in her. But you also like her brother, do you not?”

  “I hardly know him. I have not spoken more than a dozen words to him. But yes. I do like him.”

  Neva stirred. Though she had known that this was true, she had not expected Devita to be so honest about it.

  “That was clear,” said the queen. “Not just to me but to your father, too. You should be careful, Devita.”

  “Of what?”

  “Of liking Ivo too much. Or at least of letting your father know that you do. He has other plans for you.”

  “I am my own mistress!”

  “We would all like to think that, but it is not true. We are none of us entirely our own to command—not even I.”

  “But that is because you are the queen.”

  “Which you will be, too one day—if not here then elsewhere.”

  “But what has that to do with my liking Ivo?”

  “Perhaps nothing. Perhaps a great deal. In any case, I thought I should warn you. And now you must both be tired, you particularly, Neva. You can go.”

  “We will be glad to stay if you would like us to, Your Majesty.”

  “No. It will be some time before I am ready for bed. I hope you rest well, both of you.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Good night, Aunt Galla,” said Devita. She kissed the queen and then she and Neva went back inside, leaving her there on the balcony.

  Sometime in the watches of that night a dream came to Neva. It took her from her bed in the room near Devita’s and carried her high above the sleeping world to a tall peak which, even in the darkness, she recognized as Tarec. The shattered stone lay as she had last seen it, sombre in the moonlight. And though this time Ivo and Liall were not with her, she was not alone. A figure in a hooded white robe stood at the plateau’s eastern edge looking first at Andor, then at Brunn. With a deep feeling of awe, Neva went towards her and made her a reverence for she knew that this was the being whose image had been cut on the stone.

  The White Lady did not turn, but it was clear she knew Neva was there.

  “My lady, why are you so sorely troubled?” asked Neva.

  She spoke to her as she had to Akala, without words, and the White Lady answered in the same way.

  “Look.”

  With eyes more farseeing than Akala’s, Neva looked at Andor and wherever she looked, armed men were moving towards Lantar, gathering in the fields and meadows that surrounded it.

  “Will they attack soon?”

  “Within days, perhaps less.”

  “What will come of it?”

  “Even I cannot tell you that, but I can show you what could come of it.”

  She gestured, and the waiting army moved north towards Brunn. A great host had gathered there, too, but they were overwhelmed, scattered, and the forces of Andor drove on towards Mirana and east and west, and throughout Brunn there were scenes like the ones embroidered on the tapestry in the room of Liall’s mother: cities, towns and villages attacked and burning, dead men lying in the streets and fields, women screaming, children fleeing fatherless and babes abandoned.

  But Brunn, as strong as Andor, was not yet beaten. The scattered forces rallied, drove out the invaders and followed them into Andor. And now the same bloody scenes were repeated there; burning cities and farmsteads, fields laid waste, and cattle wandering with none to tend them. Back and forth moved the red tide of war, and as those who fought became fewer, they became even more savage, killing more and more wantonly until all, both north and south, was a waste and a devastation. Then, in an exhausted pause, a dark figure came forward, promising peace, and mounted to power over both Andor and Brunn. But though his words had been soft and honeyed, Neva sensed that it was he who had loosed the evil that had swept both lands and that he was even more ruthless than all those who had slain and burned. And though she tried to see his face, she could not for it was turned from her. But on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, was the gore-crow.

  “Who is he?” she asked.

  “His name means nothing,” said the White Lady. “He is but one finger of a far greater hand; a hand that first reached out of the darkness when time began. It is what this triumph would mean that brought me here.”

  “There cannot be more!” said Neva.

  “Look up.”

  Neva looked up and now she saw with the White Lady’s eyes: saw other worlds above and beyond and around, as many world as there were stars. And each was poised in an exact balance, part light, part dark. And as the world beneath her tipped slowly down and darkness flooded it, so each of the other worlds moved and turned that much farther from the light.

  Her senses numbed, Neva looked again at the dark figure on the throne beneath her.

  “And can you do nothing to stop him?”

  “Though he is mortal and I am not, I am as bound by the laws that govern the great balance as he is. I have loved, protected and instructed. I can do no more unless—in pride or desperation—he go beyond the laws by using powers that are forbidden.”

  “Is all lost then?”

  “Not yet. Not while a single spark of light remains anywhere.”

  The White Lady turned now, and for the first time Neva saw her face; saw and knew it.

  “You will forget what you have seen,” she said, “as you have forgotten many other things. But it is my hope that because I showed you what I did, the spark will live on in you even if the time of the great darkness comes.”

  Chapter 16

  Ivo had been sleeping fitfully and uneasily also. Finally he woke, got out of bed and went to the window. He was peering up at the stars that were becoming dimmer with the approach of dawn when Liall sat up with a start.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Nothing. I had a bad dream.”

  “What kind of dream?”

  “About a dark cloud. It was very small at first but it became larger and larger until it shadowed everything—not just the palace here but all of Brunn and Andor.”

  “And you were looking for it?”

  “Yes.”

  “I did not think of you as someone who believed in dreams.”

  “I don’t know if I believe in them or not. But I did see something.”

  “What?”

  “Not a cloud or a shadow but a bird.”

  “A gull?”

  “No. It wa
s too dark to be certain, but I thought it was the gore-crow that we first saw on Tarec and then on the heath.”

  “That’s impossible. What would it be doing here?”

  “What was it doing on the heath?”

  “We thought it was following us, spying on us.”

  “Yes.”

  “I still think, if it was anything, it was a gull.”

  “Don’t you think I can tell the difference between a gull and a crow?”

  “In the dark?”

  Ivo hesitated. “Perhaps not.”

  He went back to bed for a while, but did not sleep. Then he and Liall dressed in the uniforms they had been given—blue tunics blazoned with the sea-serpent of Brunn—and went down to the great hall. They broke their fast with the other members of the guard and were about to report for duty when Neva came into the hall.

  “Good morning, Neva,” said Liall. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Well enough until just before dawn.”

  “What happened then?”

  “Something woke me. I went to the window and there on the balcony railing was the gore-crow we saw on Tarec and on the heath. I don’t know how long it had been there, but when I came to the window it flew off.”

  “Which way did it fly?”

  “South. Back towards Andor.”

  Liall nodded, looking thoughtful, and Ivo found it interesting that though Liall had argued with him, he had not argued with Neva.

  “I saw it also,” he said. “You think it followed us?”

  “Probably. In any Case, now it knows we are here.”

  “Well, there’s nothing we can do about it.” He rose. “We must go now and report to Tarnir.”

  “Not this morning.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have just seen him. The princess is going down to the quays and she asked that the two of you be permitted to attend her.”

  “Oh. Just the princess?”

  “No. I will be going, too.”

  “That sounds more promising than guard duty,” said Ivo. “Shall we go now?”

  “Yes. We should not keep her waiting.”

  They left the great hall, and in a few moments Devita came down the wide curving stairs. She was wearing a pale yellow gown, and a silver fillet held her long dark hair in place.