Black Jade (21 page)

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Authors: David Zindell

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BOOK: Black Jade
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Master Virang, who proved to be the Meditation Master, helped us to settle into two of the school's guest houses just above the river. Liljana, Atara and Estrella took up residence in the smaller of them, while the rest of us set up in the other. There, in these steeply-roofed stone hostels that reminded me of the chalets of my home-, we spent hours soaking our cold, bruised bodies in hot water and washing away the grime of our journey. It was good to put on fresh tunics, and even better to sit down to a hot meal. Master Virang saw to it that we were served chicken soup and fresh bread for lunch, and cheese and berries, too. He left us alone to eat these heartening foods, but then returned an hour later to spirit away Master Juwain to a private meeting with the Grandmaster.

What they discussed all during that long afternoon we could only wonder. Master Juwain rejoined us only at the end of the day, when we gathered with the entire community of Brothers for a feast in the Great Hall. We were so busy, however, exchanging pleasantries with the curious Brothers that Master Juwain could not find a moment to confer with the rest of us. His face seemed tight and troubled, and I wondered if the Grandmaster had given him ill tidings or perhaps had chastened him for leading our company here.

I did not have to wait long to find out the answers to these questions - and to others that vexed me even more sorely. After the feast, we were summoned to take tea with The Seven, as the Brotherhood's masters were called. On a clear, lovely night we adjourned to one of the nearby buildings. Here, from time to time,

in a little stone conservatory, the Grandmaster came to dwell in solitude or sit with the Music or Meditation Masters, or others with whom he wished to speak. Indeed, the circular space where we met with them had much the air of a meditation chamber. White wool carpets and many cushions covered the floor across its length and breadth. Vases of fresh flowers had been set into recesses built into the walls. These curves of white granite were carved with various symbols: pentagram, gammadion and caduceus; sun and eagle, swan and star. In various places, some ancient artisan had chiselled the Great Serpent in the form of a lightning boh - and of a dragon swallowing Its tail The twelve pillars supporting the dome above us also showed cut glyphs. The light from the room's many candles illumined the shapes of the Archer, Ram, Dolphin, and nine other signs of the zixiiac. The dome itself was smooth and featureless save for twelve round windows letting in the light of the stars.

This radiance seemed to gather within the hollows of a goldish bowl, set upon a marble pedestal beneath the northernmost window. In size and shape, if not shimmer, the bowl seemed like unto the Lightstone itself. I sensed immediately that ii must be a work of silver gelstei, for I felt the silustria of my sword fairly singing to it. It must be, I thought, one of the False Lightstones forged in the Age of Law. Once, in the Library of Khaisham. my friends and I had come across a similar vessel of silver gelstei, shaped and tinted
as
the Lightstone in a vain attempt to capture its powers. Like all the silver gelstei, though, this cup would resonate with the true gold, and so was still a very great treasure.

The conservatory's only items of furniture were three low tea tables, inlaid with tiny triangles of lapis, shell and jet, and set with little round tea cups. As my companions and I entered the room, the Grandmaster and his Brothers stood up from behind them to greet us. In Tria I had sat at table with kings, but these seven masters of the Great White Brotherhood seemed possessed of no less presence and authority.

Tallest of the Seven, and the most striking, was the Grandmaster himself. His name was Abrasax, but because the Brothers found it too much of a mouthful to address him as Grandmaster Abrasax, most of them called him, simply, Grandfather. His age, I thought, was hard to tell. A corona of curly white hair covered his head and flowed in waves down his cheeks and chin to form a rather magnificent beard. His seamed and weathered skin made for rather a stark contrast with it, for it was as brown as a tanned bull's hide. According to Master Juwain, Abrasax's father had been a chieftain of the Tukulak tribe and his mother a Karabuk maiden taken captive as concubine. In Abrasax, I thought, gathered the comeliest features of both the Sarni and Karabuk peoples. He had the long, well-shaped head of the Sarni and a solid and symmetrical face. His muscular hands fairly radiated strength; I could easily imagine them working one of the Sarni's stiff war bows, if not the great bow of Sajagax himself. But his nose flared like a delicate and perfect triangle, and so, I guessed, it must have been with his mother and her kin. His eyes were large and liquid like a horse's eyes, full of gentleness and grace. And full of wisdom, too. And something else. In the way he looked at me, with sweetness and fire, I had a deep, disturbing sense that he could perceive things in me that others had never seen - not Atara or Kane, or even my mother, father or my own grandfather.

He motioned for me to sit opposite from him at the center-most table. I lowered myself onto a plump cushion, with Master Juwain to my right and Liljana to my left. Master Virang sat to the right of Abrasax, and Master Matai, the Master Diviner, joined us as well. The two other tables were pulled up close to ours, end to end, making for what seemed one long table. Maram and Kane took places at the one to my right, and so, across from them, did Master Okuth and Master Storr. To my left, Atara, Estrella and Daj sat facing Master Yasul and Master Nolashar, the Music Master. I couldn't help staring at this middling-old man. His hair was cropped short like that of most of the Brothers, but was as straight and black as my own. Too, he had the long nose and black eyes of many of my people. His name and quiet, alert bearing proclaimed him as a Valari warrior, at least by lineage and upbringing. But now, it seemed, he trained with the flute or mandolet instead of the sword, and made music instead of war.

As soon as we all had settled into our places, the doors opened behind us, and six young Brothers entered bearing big, blue pots of tea. They set them down before us, along with smaller pots ofj cream and bowls full of honey. I took my tea plain, in the Valari way, and so did Master Nolashar. But most of the others set to pouring in cream and stirring their tea with little silver spoons that tinkled against the sides of their cups. The Brotherhood makes use of scores of teas, blended from hundreds of herbs, and the one I first sipped that night was as sweet as cherries, as fiery as brandy, and as cool and bracing as fresh peppermint. Abrasax waited for the young Brothers to finish their work and leave. He smiled at Daj and Estrella in a kindly way. Then his face fell stern, and he looked at the rest of us, one by one, and most keenly at Master Juwain as he said, 'I would like first and foremost, to welcome you all to our school. It has been nearly a hundred years since anyone outside our order has taken refuge here, for our rules are necessarily strict and we do not usually break them. Master Juwain, however, has explained the need that drove him to lead outsiders here, and I am in agreement with his decision, as are the rest of us. As long as you abide by our rules, you may remain as long as you would like.'

His voice was deep and strong and sure of itself. But there was no pride or veiled threat in it, as with a king's voice, only curiosity and an insistence on the truth. And so, with all the candor that I could summon, I bowed my head to him and said, 'Thank you, Grandfather. If we could, we would remain in this beautiful place for a year. But as Master Juwain will have told you, we have urgent business elsewhere, and we would ask of you not only your hospitality but your help.'

Abrasax exchanged a quick look with Master Virang, and then Master Storr, a rather stout man with fair, freckled skin and eyes as blue and clear as topaz gems. And then Abrasax said, 'You shall certainly have our hospitality; as for our help in your quest, we are met here tonight to decide if we
can
help you, and more, if such help would be wise.'

His obvious doubt concerning us seemed to pierce Maram like a spearpoint and my prickly friend took a sip of tea, and then muttered, 'The whole world is about to burn up in dragon fire, and the Masters of the
Brotherhood
must sit and debate whether they will
help
us?'

Abrasax just gazed at him. 'You must understand, Brother Maram. that a great deal is at stake. Indeed, as you say, the whole world.'

'Please. Grandfather.' Maram said, 'I'm a Brother no longer and you should call me Sar Maram.'

'All men are brother,'Abrasax reminded him, 'but it will be as you've asked, Sar Maram then.'

Maram nodded his head as if this name pleased him very well - even II Master Juwain and a couple of the other masters present clearly disapproved of it. Maram looked around the table at the pots of tea, and I could almost feel his fierce desire that they should contain brandy or other spirits instead.

'Few men,' he told Abrasax as he nodded at me, 'whether they are Brothers or not, have seen what we've seen or fought so hard to free Ea from the Red Dragon's claws.'

'You
have
fought hard, it's true,' Abrasax agreed. 'But ferocity at arms, even of will, can never be enough to defeat the Dragon. Even as we speak, he moves to seize his moment. Has Master Juwain told you the tidings?'

'No,' Maram grumbled, shaking his head, 'he hasn't had the chance.'

'Evil tidings we've had out of Alonia,' Abrasax told us. 'Count Dario Narmada is dead, murdered by one of Morjin's Kallimun. Baron Maruth has proclaimed the Aquantir's independence, and so with Baron Monteer in Iviendenhall and Duke Parran in Jerolin. In Tria, Breyonan Eriades has allied with the Hastars to hunt down all Narmadas of King Kiritan's sept.'

Abrasax looked at Atara and said, 'I'm sorry, Princess.'

Atara turned her grave, beautiful face toward him. 'I'm sorry, too. My father's father reconquered the dukedoms and baronies you speak of and made Alonia great again. Count Dario
might
have held the realm together. No one else is strong enough.'

'Not even King Kiritan's only legitimate child?'

Atara touched the white cloth binding her face and said, 'A woman, and a blind one at that? No, I am Atara Manslayer, now - no one else.'

'Then it must be said that Alonia is no more.'

Atara laughed bitterly. 'Morjin will hardly even need to send an army marching north to reduce her to ashes.'

Abrasax massaged the deep creases around his eyes, then said, 'Galda has fallen, Yarkona and Surrapam, too. In all lands, our schools are being found out and burned down one by one. Our Brothers, put to the sword. And yet the evilest tidings of all have come out of Argattha.'

His words piqued Liljana's intense interest, and her plump, round face turned toward him as she asked, 'And how
have
these tidings come to you, then?'

Abrasax looked deep into her eyes and told her, 'We will be as forthcoming with you as we hope you will be with us. You see, for a very long time now, we have kept a secret school within Argattha. But not five months ago, it was discovered, and the last of our order there, Brother Songya, was captured and crucified. We will try to re-establish the school, but. . .'

A silence fell over the tea tables and spread out into the room. I gazed up at the flowers in the stands and the ancient glyphs cut beneath the stone ceiling. The round windows there glistened with starlight.

'Before Brother Songya died,' Abrasax went on, 'he sent word of the excavations beneath the city. There is, as you know, a great earth chakra there - the greatest on Ea. Morjin's slaves have nearly driven tunnels straight down into the heart of
it.
The digging has been stopped only by a great seam of quartz that breaks picks and shovels. If Morjin had a firestone, all would be lost. All is nearly lost, as it is.'

'Do not speak so, Grandfather,' Master Yasul said to him. The Master Remembrancer was an old man with skin as dark as mahogany and tight little curls of white hair capping his bald head. He might have hailed from Karabuk or Uskudar, but seemed so at home in this quiet room as to have been born here. 'We still have hope.'

Abrasax picked up his cup to take a long sip of tea. Then he looked around the tables. 'We must at least
act
as if there is hope. But I have said that this is a night for openness, and we cannot turn away from the truth. The Red Dragon needs only to gain a little more mastery of the Lightstone to open the great chakra. When its fires break free . . .'

His voice choked off as he looked at Master Yasul and Master Juwain. Then he said, 'The first faint flames have
already
broken free. It cannot be long before he unleashes the Baaloch upon the world.'

At the mention of Morjin's master, Angra Mainyu, the Great Beast, we all fell into a deep silence as we sipped our tea. Then Master Juwain said to Abrasax: 'But what
of
the Maitreya, Grandfather? Isn't it clear that he must be found and aided so that he can keep the Red Dragon from using the Lightstone?'

Abrasax pulled at his long beard. 'No, that is not so clear as you might wish. With your help, Valashu Elahad gained the Lightstone only to lose it to the Red Dragon. If we lost the Maitreya as well, then there truly would be no hope.'

At this, I drew in a quick breath and said, 'If fate leads us to find the Shining One, we will
not
lose him.'

I stared at Abrasax as he and the other six masters stared back at me. Abrasax motioned toward Master Matai. He had the soft curls and golden complexion of many Galdans, and his sharp brown eyes seemed to perceive a great deal. And Abrasax said, 'Our Master Diviner believes that these are the last days of the age, and that the Valkariad is surely near.'

With reverence and longing he spoke the name of that great moment at the end of history when all men and women would ascend to becoming greater beings: Ardun into Star People, and Star People into Elijin, who would take their rightful places as newly crowned Galadin. And the Galadin themselves would become as gods in the glory of a new creation.

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