Part 2 (2/2)
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.
Chapter Three.
”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 s.h.i.+elded 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 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 a.s.sist fruitful thought. In a large ceramic pot beside the curtained window was a huge plant covered with three-petaled 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, the Three-Winged Circle produced a murky scene of deep night in some rocky fastness, lit by the crimson embers of a dying campfire. Someone lay asleep on the ground.
The vision expanded at the Archimage's command, until it seemed that she stood within it and was able to walk about and examine everything closely, seeing as well as in broad daylight. Lofty mountains reared up on every side, many of them capped by glaciers. There was no snow on the ground in the camp, but a chill wind blew gustily, causing the fire to flare up and then almost expire.
”Where is this place?” she asked the talisman.
In the Ohogan Mountains above Zinora, some nine hundred leagues west of your Tower.
With the darkness abated by the Circle's magic, Haramis could see a large fronial, well cared for and having its antlers bedizened with silver, hobbled near a brawling stream. It was sluggishly cropping leaves from shrubs growing among the boulders. The saddle and other tack, piled neatly at one side of the fire, were of high quality and styled in the Zinoran manner, with pearl-studded silver accoutrements. On the other side of the fire lay the sleeper, wrapped so tightly in zuch-wool blankets that only his nose was visible. Close by him rested a stout pair of what looked like saddlebags-except that they were fas.h.i.+oned not from leather but from exotic birdskin with the red-and-black feathers still in place. Only Sobranians could have made them, those wealthy but rather uncivilized humans who dwelt on the western frontiers of the known world, beyond the nation of Galanar.
Leaning against the bags was an intricate contrivance made of dark metal, and at the sight of it Haramis felt a pang of unbelieving horror and could not help but cry out. Her Sending was imperceptible to the sleeper, however, and he did not stir as she knelt beside the device and studied it.
It was about half an ell in length, flattened and triangular at one end, almost like the stock of an arbalest. From this protruded three slender cylinders or rods, bound tightly together by rings and terminating in a much-perforated metal sphere. Where the upper stock joined the rods was a kind of flared cuff, and behind it numbers of k.n.o.bs, studs, and appendages of mysterious function.
This particular device was unfamiliar. But the Archimage had seen others like it -in her own Cavern of Black Ice behind her Tower on Mount Brom, and also four years earlier during the siege of Derorguila by the sorcerer Orogastus. The thing in the possession of the alleged Star Man was an antique weapon, one of those artifacts of the Vanished Ones that used to turn up from time to time in the ruins of their crumbling cities. Both Folk and humankind had long been forbidden to possess these fearsome armaments. But Orogastus had acquired numbers of them by looting the cache of an earlier Archimage of the Land, and his Tuzameni and Raktumian warriors had used the weapons to deadly effect waging war on King Antar and Queen Anigel of Laboruwenda.
When the sorcerer's force was defeated, Haramis had caused all of the archaic arms used by the enemy to be collected and destroyed. She had also rendered useless the weapons and other dubious apparatus of the Vanished Ones stored at her own Tower, as well as those remaining in the ancient Kimilon cache partially plundered by the sorcerer. Methodically, over many months, she had used her talisman's magic to visit every ruin and other forgotten spot on the world-continent where operable ancient weapons were hidden away. She had finally destroyed every one of them. The talisman had confirmed it.
Where then, had the specimen at her feet come from?
From beneath the sea, her talisman said, and the Archimage groaned at her own stupidity. Of course! The talisman ever took her words literally, and she had bade it search the land.
The weapon was slightly battered, but quite clean and obviously in working order. Used in some lethal demonstration, it would command respect and fear for its owner among both Folk and humankind in any part of the world, whether or not the wielder was truly a member of the Star Guild. By now, other weapons like it might also have been gathered from submarine hiding places and put to nefarious use.
Haramis arose and stood over the sleeper's shrouded form. ”Talisman, let him turn about so that I may see him clearly.”
A m.u.f.fled grunt came from the blankets. The man rolled over, and in doing so exposed his face and upper body. He was young and well built, perhaps two-andtwenty, with nut-brown hair and a meager beard that he had perhaps grown to lend his rather soft features an appearance of greater maturity. His overtunic was heavy gray silk, tattered and soiled but richly lined with fur. Around his neck, hanging from a beautifully wrought platinum chain, was a disk with a many-pointed Star.
Magnifying her view of it, Haramis saw that the medallion was no counterfeit. It was identical to the one Orogastus had worn, but in her Sending, she could not tell whether or not it invested its wearer with a magical aura.
”Who is this man?” Haramis asked the Circle. ”Where does he come from?”
The questions are impertinent.
”Is he the only one of his kind?”
The question is impertinent.
”What are his plans?”
The question is impertinent.
”Where did he obtain this weapon? Does he have access to more of them?”
The questions are impertinent.
”Why have you given me Sight of him, even though he wears the Star?”
Because he is a novice, as yet without the full powers of his Guild.
Haramis uttered a grim laugh. Well, that was useful knowledge indeed! She now knew for certain that the sleeping man was no impostor but a genuine initiate of the dread body of ancient enchanters-too lacking in training to have s.h.i.+elded himself completely from her scrutiny as his late master had done, but adept enough to conceal his ident.i.ty and intentions. The talisman's refusals also confirmed the Archimage in her suspicion that the young Star Man had fellows more powerful and dangerous than himself.
Haramis had no desire to take him prisoner, nor would she destroy his weapon. Instead, she intended to oversee his actions with her talisman and hope that he would provide valuable information about the Guild. Dealing with him-and any companions or allies he might have-would have to wait.
”I have seen enough of this vision,” she said.
Instantly, she was back in her study, seated in her chair by the cozy fire with the Black Trillium flowers blooming in the shadowed window niche. She let the Three-Winged Circle swing free at her breast and sat back, thinking.
So the weapons came from under the sea! She had never suspected that the Vanished Ones might have lived there as well as on the land, nor had the Blue Lady ever mentioned the fact. Easygoing and unsuspicious, Iriane ruled her naive aboriginal subjects with a light hand. Most probably she would not even have noticed the Star Guild quietly seeking out forbidden weapons. Unfortunately, the sweet-natured Archimage of the Sea knew little of the perfidy of humankind.
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