Part 24 (1/2)
”An interesting phrasing, but essentially correct.”
”And who exactly changed the laws of the universe? And how? That must have been some trick.”
”The Maker is the one who altered the rules of His creation.”
”But how? Is that just part of His power? His nature? It seems to me that altering the rules once they're in place would be a lot harder than setting them up at the beginning. Did He alter the mortal realm, as you call it, or the divine place where you hail from, or both? I'm curious how something like that is done.”
Zaephos c.o.c.ked his head. ”You are oddly perceptive, Captain. I can say only that the Maker has the power to alter His creations as He sees fit. Though it is never done lightly, or without cost.”
”What about all these other worlds? Like the one where Naragenth's library is hidden? Did the Maker create all of those, too? Are some of them more real than others? How busy is He?”
”That is a topic I am forbidden to discuss.”
Balandrick decided to drop that line of questioning. ”So what does our mortal world look like to you now?”
”Much the same as it does to you. These eyes are no different from your own.”
”But what you see now is not the same as when you come here without flesh, right? Like when you appeared to Gerin on the road to Hethnost.”
”Yes. What I saw then was not only what was, but all of the possibilities of what might be. And if I bent my will to it, what once had been.”
Balan tried to conceive what that type of vision might look like and failed miserably. He could not comprehend it. How could anyone see not just one future but many of them? Did I step here, or there? Did I turn my head left or right? Did I cough or not? Do all of those little changes create a different path to the future? It seemed to him there must be an almost infinite number of variations. How could any being comprehend that?
A basic question occurred to Balan that he didn't think anyone else had yet asked.
”What does the Adversary want? What is he trying to accomplish?”
”What he wants does not matter. The only thing we must concern ourselves with is stopping him.”
”But if we know what he's after, maybe there's a way of thwarting his plans. Hit him indirectly, since it seems to me that we're woefully unprepared to battle a G.o.d. I think we could use as many plans of attack as possible.”
”He and his goals are inextricably twined. One cannot be defeated without defeating the other.”
”What does that mean? Is that some kind of riddle?”
Zaephos stood. ”It is all I can say. Good night, Balandrick.”
27.
It's time to begin your siege, General,” said Vethiq aril Tolsadri.
”It is no such thing, Voice,” said Lorem taril'na Ezqedir. He held a seeing-gla.s.s to his right eye and surveyed the fortress ahead of them while he spoke. ”It's time to observe, and to plan.”
He collapsed the seeing-gla.s.s and turned to an adjutant. ”Have Tereen prepare my meal,” he said. ”Find Haavi and have him join me.”
Tolsadri could not believe this insect of a general was ignoring him. He was positioning his army too far from the valley where the accursed wizards were hiding. Gerin Atreyano was most likely there as well. The mere thought of the man who had brought humiliation upon him caused blood to rush in his ears and his heart to race. He'd lost stature and standing that he had yet to regain because of the debacle on the island.
Behind him, members of the caste of Elqos the Worker labored to pitch the tents of Tolsadri, Ezqedir, and the other commanders. It galled Tolsadri that his tent was no larger than that of Ezqedir-the man was a general, not even a Sword!-but his machinations to obtain a larger tent befitting his station had been thwarted at every turn.
He fingered the Mark of Bariq the Wise. The medallion was a comfort to him, a rea.s.surance that he served the greatest of the Powers and a reminder of his achievements in becoming both an Adept and Loremaster. He was the greatest of the Adepts and the Voice of the Exalted herself.
Yet all was now in jeopardy because of Gerin Atreyano. Tolsadro knew that the Dreamers were wary of him, and the Exalted had chided him for his loss of the captive. He knew the true fault lay with that wretch of the Harridan, a sp.a.w.n of evil if ever he'd known one. He wondered where she had gone after delivering the location of the Words of Making. He shook his head in disgust. She sullies my mind. Her task is done. Best not to think of her again.
”I demand that you begin your siege,” he said in a low voice to the general. ”The Words of Making are within that fortress!”
”I am beginning my siege,” said Ezqedir. He was taller than Tolsadri, something else Tolsadri did not like about the man. He was broad through the chest and shoulders, his legs thick and well-muscled, typical of the men in the Kledeen Valley where he'd been born. Barbarian giants, all of them. His black hair fell in snaking coils to his shoulders, brus.h.i.+ng the top of glinting armor that almost seemed an extension of his bronze skin.
”Observing one's enemy to determine both weaknesses and strengths is the first part of any battle,” Ezqedir continued.
”You need to attack!” hissed Tolsadri.
”I will attack when I am ready, Voice of the Exalted. And not a moment before.”
”While you dawdle, they strengthen their defenses.”
”There is nothing they can do now that will make a material difference. But if I attack before I am ready, we may suffer yet another disastrous defeat. One that I'm not sure even you're high reputation could endure.”
Tolsadri could not be certain whether Ezqedir was mocking him. He did not know the man well enough to gauge if he was capable of such subtleties. And I will never know him that well, he vowed. I will destroy him for his lack of proper respect, the way I destroyed Drugal.
”The fortress is before you,” said Tolsadri. ”What more do you need to see? We have the Loh'shree and the eunuchs as well as your Herolen! If that is not sufficient for the task at hand, you should fall on your sword for your incompetence and leave the siege to someone who will take action.”
”Did you fall on your sword after your failure to hold the man you're now demanding I recapture? He not only escaped you-and took your life in the process-but escaped your stronghold as well. I have failed at nothing yet, Voice, and I don't intend to.”
”You know nothing about-”
Ezqedir moved so close to Tolsadri that the Voice had to take a step back.
”The blockade of their capital city was destroyed by Gerin Atreyano. Nineteen s.h.i.+ps drowned. Sword of the Exalted Drugal lost much of his army and his life to Gerin Atreyano before his siege could even begin.” He pointed toward the fortress without taking his eyes from Tolsadri. ”Gerin Atreyano is more than likely in that place. If you think I'm going to risk my men because of your impatience-brought about by your own incompetence-you'll be sorely disappointed. I suggest you revise your expectations accordingly, Voice.”
”You forget yourself, Ezqedir. You are not the Sword. I order you to begin your siege, or I'll replace you with someone who will.” As soon as spoke, he knew he'd made a mistake. He cursed his own anger. He usually did not let it get the best of him, did not let it make him speak when he should remain silent-but this was an error.
Ezqedir had the gall to grin. ”It is you who forget yourself, Voice. You are right in one thing, and one thing only. I am not the Exalted's Sword-yet. But I have been charged by her to command this army and locate the Words of Making. I lead here in the ways of war, not you.
”I'll conduct this siege as I see fit, so that the victory will be mine. When that is done, I'll become the new Sword. I won't make the mistake Drugal made of underestimating your skill for treachery. The manner of his death has been questioned. There are whispers that he was murdered, that he did not perish in the conflagration set off upon the ridge. There is no proof, of course, and no proof will ever come. But the whispers will remain, Voice, and cling to you like a foul vapor.”
The general paused, as if waiting for a response, then went on. ”Nothing to say? I'm surprised. You have a reputation for garrulousness. Perhaps that is one of many things exaggerated about you.”
”You'll pay for your impertinence and slander.”
Ezqedir shrugged. ”We shall see about that. Is it not the role of the Voice to parley with our enemies? Perhaps you should knock on their gate and demand they turn over the Words to us.”
Tolsadri stepped forward until his chest almost touched the general's. He was hoping that Ezqedir would step back, but the wh.o.r.eson did not move.