The Adversary - 4 (55 page)

The King relaxed in his seat, staring pensively at the daytime stars. After a while he said to Dougal, "I hate to admit it, but I've about given up trying to figure out what Marc Remillard will do next. I guess I didn't really expect him to reply to my invitation to the Grand Tourney. He's hardly about to abandon his scheme after so many years, just because his kids run out on him. Elizabeth said it was a long shot, though, that he might pack it in. And I saw for myself that the guy really does love his children."

"Love is not love," Dougal murmured, "when it is mingled with regards that stand aloof from the entire point. As you should know."

"I like enemies I can pin a label on," Aiken complained.

"Sharn and Ayfa! Nodonn! Even Gomnol, damn his dead eyes.

But Marc's a different breed. So bloody charming ... "

"One may smile and smile and be a villain."

The King seemed to be talking to himself. "I can't let Remillard put the wind up me. I've got to carry on with my royal duties, even if it means he might nail me when I least expect it.

But if I could find where he's hiding ... " He called out to Betsy. "Any sign?"

"Negative," growled the counterfeit Elizabethan.

"The king's will," Dougal said, "is not his own. He may not, as unvalued persons do, carve for himself, for on his choice depends the safety and health of the whole state. So then, my liege, be bloody, bold and resolute! Be lion-mettled, proud, and take no care who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are-for if 'tis true that doomsday's near, then die all, die merrily!"

He placed both hands upon the crowned lion blazon on his knightly surcoat.

Aiken stared at the golden charge. "Perhaps I should have taken the lion for my emblem instead of the hand." His brow creased. "Dougie, I've seen it before. Back on Dalriada, when I was just a juvenile delinquent disturbing the peace of the other haggis-wallopers. What does the lion emblem mean?"

"It is Asian, of course," said the madman, "and an ancient badge among our Scottish kinfolk as well, with its motto S Rioghal Mo Dhream'Royal Is My Race. It's the crest of Clan Gregor."

Aiken drew in a sharp breath. "And that's your family name?"

"No. I was born a Fletcher-a sept of the clan. But the one I sought so long is a MacGregor unknowing. Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless." The mad knight smiled at the King.

Aiken sank back in the pilot's seat and began to laugh. "First it's born and then it's rooted! Priceless!" He opened a leg pocket, took out a white handkerchief, and wiped his face.

"Thanks Dougie, I needed that."

The medievalist said softly, "My liege, receive what cheer you may. The night is long that never finds the day."

"If you can get control of yourself," came Betsy's acerbic interruption, "you might care to take a goggle at this, Your Majesty. I've scanned the entire river from the Gulf of Armorica to its confluence with the Nonol just below Nionel. The only remotely anomalous object I can pick up on this barbarian peepscope is here-a little over one hundred kilometres inland."

The King frowned at the display. "Jack up the magnification.

No, that only makes it fuzzier. And look how the damn thing keeps hopping about, skipping up and down the river like a willo'-the-wisp."

"I told you it was anomalous," Betsy said. "It could be some obscure gravomagnetic effect, or a glitch in the imaging circuitry.

After all, the poor scope's at least a thousand years old. On the other hand-"

"You don't get this gremlin in any other part of the river?"

"No. We could descend to a lower altitude, of course, or probe it with a detector beam or your farsense."

"I don't think we'll risk that," said the King. "If it is Kyllikki, they might feel the tickle."

"The better part of valour is discretion," Dougal quoted.

"And I have a High Table meeting at Castle Gateway in an hour," Aiken added. "If Marc wants to play coy, I'll let him.

For now."

There were other travellers abroad in the land besides those headed for the tournament Field of Gold, and Mary-Dedra, chatelaine of Black Crag Lodge, came to tell Elizabeth of the latest batch.

"Six more got in just after lunch. On foot, without supplies, and they'd sent back their escorts before setting out on the last leg of the climb today. That's twenty-two all told. Nine humans, the rest Tanu."

"But there's nothing we can do," Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Didn't you tell them that?"

"They're not taking no for an answer."

"Oh, dear. I suppose I'll have to deal with them myself."

Elizabeth pressed fingers against her aching temples, trying to call up a self-redactive impulse. But she'd been at the farsensing too long, hoping to discover where Marc and the schooner might be concealed, and the fatigue and some perverse mental block frustrated healing. She sent out a plea to Creyn on the intimate mode, then said to Dedra: "You'd better bring them all up herewithout the children-I'll try to explain things as kindly as possible."

The human farsensor nodded and left the suite. Elizabeth sat in a chair by one of the large windows, which stood open to the breeze coming out of the north. The heath had begun its second bloom, brightening the dusty green slope with patches of carmine and delicate pink. Brother Anatoly pottered in the kitchen garden below, and cerulean doves cooed in the rafters of the rambling chalet.

Creyn closed the door softly behind him. She sent him a wordless appeal and he strode to her chair and spread his hands over her head. The throbbing ceased.

"Thank you." She let her eyes close. The hands descended to rest lightly on her hair as he stood behind her.

"Have you found anything?" he asked.

"Not a trace. Marc must be using some kind of artificial screen. Not a sigma-that would stick out like a beacon-but something absorptive that swallows my mental beam instead of reflecting it. I never had much to do with such mechanisms back in the Milieu so I don't have counterprogramming. Most of my farsensing was communication, bespeaking other teachers and exchanging information among the worlds of the Human Polity.

Hunter-searcher farsensors operated in an entirely different sphere." Aware that she was babbling, she fell silent. After a few moments had passed, she said, "Perhaps Marc's done the unexpected after all. Gone away to another planet and taken the others with him."

"I doubt it. He's been deprived of his life's objective-or he will be if he accepts the rejection of his children. He will not be satisfied until he discovers the new work that is to take the place of the flawed dream. I would have told him-even given him the mitigator program that would have made the work possible. But I was a fool and tried to bargain with him."

Distracted, Elizabeth had no notion of what he was talking about. In the courteous way of metapsychics, he opened the deeper level of his mind in explanation, reprising the memory of his last meeting with Marc. The request. The refusal.

Bewilderment clouded Elizabeth's comprehension. "A new work for Marc?"

Creyn nodded. "The Goddess has been pleased to give me the insight. But I was wrong not to pass it on to him freely. My only excuse is that I was a man desperate."

"You wanted Marc to apply Brendan's redactive programme to your mind?" She was incredulous. "But it would never work!

You're fully adult, burdened with the habitual thought-patterns of years-centuries! Oh, my dear, I'm sorry. You thought ... but even if such a redaction were possible, it could never change things between us."

"I know that now." He smiled reassuringly. "Another insight vouchsafed by Tana, although tardily. And I had not then visualized your own role in the work, nor appreciated the significance of the inevitable duality. Again my emotions clouded my thinking."

She frowned. "You're speaking riddles, Creyn. What work?"

He showed her.

"My God!" she cried. "Are you mad?" Horror and revulsion poured from her mind before she sent her walls crashing into place. She collected herself and said in a calm voice. "Your deep disappointment has affected your judgment even more seriously than you realize. I think you'll understand this yourself in a little while. But I must ask you-I want you to promise-you must never speak of this idea to anyone! Most especially not to Marc. Please, Creyn. If you care at all about me, you must promise."

His barriers lowered as a warrant of sincerity. "I promise. It's enough that you know."

"The entire notion is futile. Besides, we both know quite well what Marc will decide to do. As for the rest of it-" She shook her head. "You've been infected by the Shipspouse's lunatic prescience, not touched by Tana's wisdom."

"Perhaps." He turned away. "Forgive me if I insulted you.

But as a solution, it displayed an elegant inevitability-"

"Don't mention it again. God knows I have enough to worry about."

There was a knock on the door, and Dedra's leading thought.

Elizabeth rose as the door opened and steeled herself to meet the mothers of the black-torc babies.

CHAPTER SIX

Aiken came into the dark coolness of the Roniah City-Lord's sanctum, where the High Table members had gathered. Of those that had served the Thagdal there remained only Kuhal Earthshaker, Bleyn the Champion, and Alberonn Mindeater.

Celadeyr, who had been raised to the Table on the battlefield of the last Grand Combat and then attainted for his role in Nodonn's treason, was now finally adjudged worthy of reinstatement. He stood with the seven newly chosen Great Ones ready to take the pledge of fealty.

AIKEN: It's fitting that the High Table should be complete at this first Grand Tourney celebration so that our High Kingdom may present a unified face to the Foe. To this end I have nominated a full slate of Great Ones ...

ALL: [Surprised murmurs.] But two seats are unfilled!

AIKEN: A full slate, I say. But before receiving your oaths I command your commemoration of those High Table Members who have passed into Tana's Peace since our last convocation at the Grand Loving: Aluteyn Craftsmaster, Second Lord Creator; Artigonn of Amalizan, Second Lord Coercer; Armida the Formidable of Bardelask.

ALL: To them be Tana's Peace.

AIKEN: And in compassion let us commend those who fell from My favour and forfeited their seats through treason: Thufan Thunderhead of Tarasiah; Diarmet of Geroniah; Moreyn Glasscrafter of Var-Mesk.

ALL: To them also be Tana's Peace.

AIKEN: [Pain.] And the late Queen Mercy-Rosmar.

ALL: Peace to her.

AIKEN: And my most noble antagonist Nodonn Battlemaster.

ALL: Peace to him.

AIKEN: And finally, let us commend one who does not rest to the mercy of the Goddess, that in her good time she may give him peace: Culluket the Interrogator, Lord Redactor.

ALL: [Dread.] Tana grant him release. [The Song.] (Silence.) AIKEN: Now let the sitting Great Ones reaffirm fealty.

MORNA-IA KINGMAKER + SIBEL LONGTRESS + BLEYN THE CHAMPION + KUHAL EARTHSHAKER + CONDATEYR FULMINATOR + ALBERONN MINDEATER + EADNAR OF ROCILAN + NEYAL OF SASARAN + LOMNOVEL BRAINBURNER + ESTELLA-SIRONE OF DARASK: Slonshal to the Shining One, Aiken-Lugonn High King of our Many-Coloured Land.

AIKEN: And to you Slonshal ... Let the nominated Great Ones here present pledge fealty. Celadeyr of Afaliah, Second Lord Creator.

CELADEYR: I swear by the torc.

AIKEN: Boduragol of Afaliah, Lord Redactor, and Lady Credela, Second Redactor.

BODURAGOL + CREDELA: We swear by the torc.

AIKEN: The city-lords Ochal the Harper of Bardelask, Parthol Swiftfoot of Calamosk, Ferdiet the Courteous of Tarasiah, Heymdol Buccinator of Geroniah, and Donal of Amalizan.

OCHAL + PARTHOL + FERDIET + HEYMDOL + DONAL: We swear by the torc.

AIKEN: And now I will fill the last two seats.

(Speculation. Wonderment.) AIKEN: We live in terrible and portentous times, greatly outnumbered by our ancient Foe and beset by outlandish menaces as well. Yet we are not without friends, some of whom are unable to publicly declare themselves. These friends have given Me good counsel and deserve to sit among the Great Ones by reason of the love they have for our land, the goodwill they bear toward its King, and their own sovereign dignity. They must for now sit at our Table in secret. Let them manifest themselves in simulacrum to take their pledge.

(Stupefaction.) KATLINEL THE DARKEYED AND SUGOLL: We swear by the love we bear one another and by our love for the land and its people that we will uphold King Aiken-Lugonn in all noble-minded endeavour. We vow our alliance in battle in the event of the Nightfall War, and repudiate our erstwhile vassalage to the Firvulag Throne. And thou, Teah, witnesseth.

AIKEN: Slonshal and Slitsal to one and all.

(Uproar) AIKEN: Does anyone dispute My right to seat these two?

(Silence.) AIKEN: Brothers and Sisters, desperate times call for desperate remedies. Sugoll and Katy have told me how King Sharn openly boasted of a scheme to touch off Nightfall at the climax of the Tourney.

CELADEYR: I knew it! And they called me an antiquated deathwisher!

AIKEN: Sharn has been drilling his stalwarts in metaconcert technique for months. And Ayfa's contribution is dinging the brains of the stubborn ones who cling to the old individualistic Way. The Little People have new tactics and new weapons.

They use cavalry and captured Milieu weapons-and even the blood-metal, since they're not as sensitive to iron poisoning as Tanu are.

DONAL OF AMALIZAN: But this is monstrous! Sharn and Ayfa must be insane to think of precipitating Nightfall. They're both young, with children, and Nightfall means the doom of both our races!

CELADEYR: Only according to orthodox Tanu belief, son. The Firvulag have convinced themselves that Nightfall will bring victory to one faction: themselves. And there is a dim justification for the notion in our sacred writings, given a fast and loose interpretation.

KUHAL EARTHSHAKER: Trust the Firvulag to do just that.

OCHAL THE HARPER: We have confidence that the Shining One will forestall Night!

AIKEN: I'm going to do my damnedest. We're outnumbered, but we've got discipline in our metaconcert-and a much more efficient program that yields more watts per mind. We've also got the Spear, a good supply of sophisticated weapons, and the Royal Flying Corps-which you saw in action this afternoon.