A Flame in Hali (61 page)

I hear you,
came the faint trace of Romilla’s thought,
I hear and obey.

Then tell the Queen this; that you believe Varzil hides his true purpose behind a veil of lies and appearances. That even now, he stretches out his hand to a terrible
laran
weapon. Worse by far than
clingfire
or even bonewater dust. It was for this that he helped to rebuild Cedestri Tower. It is for this he journeys to Asturias, to make alliance between them and King Carolin. Tell her you fear Carolin Hastur plans to strike at Valeron, the very heart of Aillard territory. Tell her that Sandoval the Blessed comes to testify of the potency of Varzil’s new weapon. We saw proof at the riot at Hali Lake. She must hear us so that she can judge for herself!

“M
y lords! My lords!” The page stood on the threshold of Eduin and Saravio’s chamber. He was one of the youngest, not more than six or seven. Exertion flushed his round face. He must have run all the way from the far side of the castle.

“Why, whatever is the matter?” Eduin lowered his
laran
shields slightly, but could make no sense of the boy’s agitation.

“Her Majesty—she has sent—for you—to come—immediately—”

“And you are to bring us now?” Eduin frowned. He would have preferred to let Saravio sleep, for the periods of recovery were growing longer as each “healing” session seemed to drain more and more energy from the singer.

“We’ll be but a moment,” Eduin said, waving in a reassuring manner. “Wait out here.”

Saravio roused slowly from his near-stupor. Eduin could sense how low his vital energies had dipped. He touched the other man’s mind and found Naotalba’s tattered image wrapped in storm clouds. Spiderweb lightning enveloped her like an aureole. Ashen smoke tinged the psychic atmosphere. Eduin could superimpose some approximation of order upon Saravio’s mind once more, but that would disintegrate just like his last efforts. He feared Saravio was near the point where no one could reach him, and the thought filled Eduin with both sadness and anger. For a moment, he contemplated appearing alone before Julianna, rather than risk greater harm to Saravio.

Fortunately, Saravio was able to get to his feet. His eyes focused, although there was no way to tell what he really saw. He made no response when Eduin spoke to him, although at the mention of Naotalba, he put forth a wave of pleasure. His awareness might be impaired, but the mental commands Eduin had placed still held him in their grip.

Eduin paused before opening the door, caught for a moment in a sense of kinship with this poor, unfortunate man. He wondered if, when he himself was at last dead, his father’s voice would remain, whispering its tortured commands to nothingness.

They went down the corridor, following the page. As they passed through the servants’ quarters, Eduin searched mentally for any hint as to what was so urgent. He found nothing more than the ordinary, daily concerns. Perhaps they did not know.

Shortly, he found himself in Queen Julianna’s private presence chamber. General Marzan flanked her, his face deeply furrowed. Marelie sat at Julianna’s other side, coolly enigmatic, and beside her, Romilla, her hands folded on the table before her so tightly that her knuckles shone like marbles, her cheeks like ice. Lord Brynon was not in attendance.

Eduin bowed, schooling his features to reflect the proper deference. As usual, Saravio seemed oblivious of what was expected of him.

The Queen leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. Her eyes gleamed like onyx, unreadable. She drew the moment out, watching Eduin and Saravio like a falcon hovering over a rabbithorn den.

No,
Eduin thought. Not a falcon, but a starving wolf circling fresh meat, wary of a trap. He saw the pattern of her thoughts, a dozen tiny pieces at last come together.

“So it seems,” Julianna said, “that you may have something to tell us, after all.”

Eduin suppressed a smile. In that brief moment, she had lost her capacity to intimidate him. Indeed, it was
she
who had fallen within
his
power. Since an answer seemed to be called for, Eduin bowed again and murmured that he attended Her Majesty’s pleasure.

“I didn’t mean you, I meant
him.
” She indicated Saravio.

Saravio remained impassive and unresponsive. Romilla clenched her hands so tightly, her knuckles popped.

“I must serve to answer for him,” Eduin said. “It is ever his way. What would Your Majesty ask?”

“I believe you and your brother were in Thendara at the time of the disturbance at Hali Lake.”

Word of the riot must surely have spread through the Towers to every corner of Darkover. Every competent monarch must keep alert to such populist uprisings, or be caught unawares when the tide turned against their own rule. It was only a small step from a handful of penniless refugees, howling in protest against the wars that had taken their lands and families, to a mob bent on revenge against their
Comyn
rulers.

Julianna was on guard, scenting a threat. From the way she was looking at Eduin, she considered it very likely that he was among the troublemakers.

“Alas, the Blessed Sandoval and I happened to be present at the lakeside on that fateful day,” Eduin said. The statement, with its insinuation of innocence, would not fool Julianna, but that was not his aim. He wanted her to ask more questions.

“You were among those who attacked the circle from Hali Tower as they gathered on the shores of the lake?”

“
Vai domna,
I swear to you we were not.”

She paused, watching him with those glittering black eyes, weighing his words. Eduin saw the tightness of her mouth, the preternatural stillness of her hands.
Then what were you doing there?
she asked him silently.
And will you tell me the truth?

Julianna gestured to the guard standing beside the door on the far side of the room. An instant later, Callina glided into the room. She wore the loosely belted robe of a Tower worker and her starstone hung, unshielded, on its silken cord around her neck. Carefully avoiding looking at either Eduin or Saravio, she halted facing the Queen.

“Cast the spell, child,” Julianna said.

Every other time Eduin had witnessed the setting of truthspell, the
leronis
or
laranzu
had bent over his matrix crystal, murmuring the ritual words while the psychoactive gem flared to life. Callina slipped the cord over her neck and held hers aloft. The stone glittered, blue and white, between her fingers. Her eyes went soft with inward focus. She began chanting in a low voice. Although Eduin could barely hear her words, he watched as the stone grew brighter with each phrase.

First, a radiance rose over Callina’s face, then it engulfed her in a cone of blue-white brilliance. By the time she was half-way through the ceremony, the room glimmered as if caught in perpetual twilight, at once brighter and darker than any truthspell he had ever seen. For a long moment, no one dared speak, or even breathe.

“Now,” said Julianna, in a voice that sliced through the stillness. “Now we will learn the truth of this matter.”

“Sandoval the singer, called the Blessed, stand forth,” General Marzan called out.

When Saravio did not move, Eduin nudged him forward.

“Do not interfere!” The general’s voice rumbled like thunder on the peaks. “Each man must answer only for himself.”

Eduin let his hand drop. Let them make what they would of Saravio’s unresponsiveness.

“Were you at Hali Lake? What happened there?” Several times, General Marzan put questions to Saravio, without any visible reaction. Finally, the general raised his hands, as if giving up, and turned to Julianna.

“They say he speaks only upon your command,” she said to Eduin. “Order him to answer.”

“You must tell these good people about the lake shore riot,” Eduin said, enunciating every word with care so that there would be no misunderstanding. “Do you remember how we went there? We saw the circle, and the Lake of Clouds, and Varzil Ridenow had gone down into its depths.”

At the mention of Varzil, recognition flared in Saravio’s eyes. He sent a pulse of anguish through the room. Eduin slammed his
laran
barriers into place.

“Varzil was there,” Saravio murmured. “Dragons came from the sky. The lake churned. The air turned dark. People ran away. Those that remained . . . died.”

“Varzil the Good?” Julianna repeated. “So he
was
there, after all. He is loved in Hali, or so I have been told. I wonder why he did not speak to the people, to quiet them.”

“Let us proceed with the questioning,” said General Marzan, “now that Sandoval has recovered his tongue. What did you mean,
dragons came from the sky?
And where was Varzil the Good when this happened?”

Saravio flushed with emotion. He cried out, his voice like the raucous shriek of a
kyorebni,
“Varzil—he brings the fire, he brings the fire! Aiee, Naotalba, have mercy on us—” He flung himself down upon his knees, burying his face in his hands.

Terror and pain flooded from his mind to engulf the room. Romilla uttered a cry like a dying bird, quickly stifled.

“Have mercy,” Saravio cried, “or we shall all perish!”

“Your Majesty, great Queen, worthy lords,” Eduin held out his hands beseechingly. “You see how my brother fares.” He referred to their disguise as “Eduardo” and “Sandoval.” “This questioning is too harsh for one of his sensitivities. The tragedy at Hali Lake almost destroyed him. I beg you, let me take him away before he swoons.”

“The fire! Naotalba, save us!” Saravio burst into wailing. He beat the sides of his head with his fists.

Even through his tightly-raised barriers, Eduin felt wave after wave of fear emanating from Saravio. Romilla paled to the color of unbleached
linex
and appeared on the verge of fainting. Even the General’s ruddy complexion faded. Julianna sat very still. Callina trembled like a leaf in a Hellers blizzard, but did not break her concentration. The truthspell remained, unwavering.

“Take him away,” Julianna said. “Not you,” to Eduin, “you stay here.”

Two guards lifted Saravio to his feet. Saravio could barely stand, but he stumbled along between them, still moaning. The residue of his psychic emanations gradually died down.

“I don’t know how much of that we can trust,” Julianna commented to General Marzan. “Certainly, the man himself believed every word he spoke. As to how reliable a witness he is, that is another matter entirely.” She turned her attention to Eduin. “I sincerely hope you are able to give a more coherent description.”

“Lady, I know only what I saw and what was said to me,” he replied.

“Proceed, then.”

Eduin stepped forward, placing himself so that Callina’s truthspell would directly illuminate his face. He could say anything now, and so long as it was not frank raving, his words would be accepted. No one could lie under truthspell, or so they all believed.

“The Blessed Sandoval and I were living in Thendara when we heard there was to be a great working of sorcery at Hali Lake,” Eduin began. So far, this was the truth. “Some said that a spell had been laid upon the heavens, for there was much lightning. I heard one man say that the Aldarans had done a mighty weather-working, but I do not know if that was true. So we went to the lake, and saw many other people there. They told me that Varzil, he who is Keeper at Neskaya, had gone down into the lake itself, beneath the waters of cloud. What he did there, I cannot tell, but I heard that the infernal device that caused the Cataclysm, changing the water to mist so long ago, was still upon on the bottom, and he had gone to seek it.”

Eduin sensed rather than saw the ripple of response. He shook his head as if he himself were uncertain what to think. Something whispered through the back of his mind, a ghostly echo,
Yes ... Set the trap for Varzil ...

“We had not been there very long,” he plunged on, “when I looked above the circle and saw a—I don’t know—it was long like a serpent, with hideous wings. It dove down upon us, slashing and striking. When it breathed, men choked and died. There was no place to hide, no where to run.”

“How is it
you
were able to escape?” the general asked.

“Oh, it was terrible!” Eduin let the despair of that moment tinge his voice. It
had
been terrible when their plans turned against them and Naotalba’s army, formed to bring them victory, dissolved into frenzied retreat. “No man could stand against the thing. I don’t know how many died. The lucky ones ran away. We hid, and it missed us. Just then, when it seemed it must see us, the dragon disappeared. It was gone, just like that. I looked toward the lake, and I saw Varzil with my very own eyes.”

“Varzil—you saw him, truly?”

“He was walking out of the water, just as if nothing had happened, and
he was smiling.
” Eduin conjured a picture in his own mind, half true memory, half a vision born from his hatred. Over it, he poured that unique form of
laran,
the Deslucido Gift, which his father had shown him years ago. He could hear his father’s mental voice even now:

Now that I am completely sure of your loyalty, I will teach you how to defeat truthspell. You will be able to swear to whatever serves our higher purpose, and no
laranzu
on Darkover will be able to tell the difference.