The Mirror of Her Dreams (54 page)

This proved to be a safe topic, 'Didn't I tell you about him? He says he's too lazy to be a regular soldier, but the truth is that he hates to take orders. So he does what you might call piece-work for Castellan Lebbick. Whenever he's in the mood, he volunteers for something. The Castellan sends him all over Mordant-and probably into Cadwal and Alend, too, but nobody says that out loud. He just came back a few days ago from stopping a smuggler who was selling our crops to High King Festten's army suppliers.

'When I heard he was here, I couldn't resist asking for some help. Did I tell you he's the best swordsman in Mordant?'

She shot a glance of concern and sympathy at him which- fortunately-he didn't notice. His brother may have been the best swordsman in Mordant, but the man in black was better.

The idea that Artagel could be beaten by a man who appeared and disappeared in Orison at will gave her a shiver of trepidation.

Shortly, she and Geraden crossed the vacant ballroom to the corridor which gave entrance to the laborium and descended the stairs into the former dungeon. Soon they were walking along the passageway which led to the Congery's meeting-hall. Ahead of them, Eremis and another Master entered the chamber. The guards saluted correctly-they certainly betrayed no sign that King Joyse or Castellan Lebbick knew what the Imagers had in mind. Nevertheless Terisa felt a tightening in her chest as she and Geraden followed Master Eremis.

Two or three more Masters arrived after her and Geraden; then all the doors were closed and bolted, and the Imagers gathered around the curved circle of benches within the pillars. She was starting to recognize more of them by sight: all the familiar faces were there. Except Master Quillon. That surprised her. She expected-no, there he was, already seated partway around the circle from her. He nodded at the floor as though he were half asleep,

He was the only man in the hall who wasn't staring at Geraden, Terisa, and Master Eremis with some degree of confusion, curiosity, or indignation,

The light of the oil lamps and torches flickered, making the Masters appear hot-eyed and hollow-cheeked, spectral.

Then Terisa's attention was drawn to the open centre of the chamber. Some of the Masters in her way sat down; others stepped aside to make room for Eremis. She saw the tall mirror which had been set ready on the low stone dais.

The mirror of the champion.

The scene in the glass had changed: the spaceship was gone. But hadn't Geraden told her that mirrors focused on
places,
not on
people?
Had the ship taken off? Or was it simply out of sight? The alien landscape certainly seemed unaltered, despite the shift of details: it was stark, red, and dim, composed of jagged old rocks and sand under the light of a dying sun.

The metallic figures were clustered in the centre of the Image

-and they were fighting for their lives.

Black flame as liquid as water and as flexible as whips licked at them from all directions. Three or four bodies sprawled around the scene, their machinery and flesh still smoking from great, ragged gashes. The remaining men used the rocks for protection as much as possible and struck back at the black flame with the incessant fire of their guns.

The champion was distinct among them. His gestures directed the fire of his companions, and his huge rifle gave out blasts which chopped the edges of the landscape into new configurations.

He conveyed an impression of desperation which Terisa hadn't seen in him before. For the first time, she realized that he, too, was someone who could be beaten.

But Master Eremis took a different view of the matter. Rubbing his hands together vigorously, he said, 'Excellent! Whether he exists in his own right or is a creation of the glass, he will have no cause to complain of our translation.'

'Master Eremis, you presume too much!' The mediator of the Congery stood beside the mirror, his fists braced on his large girth and his pine-coloured face mottled with anger. Apparently, his fear of what Master Gilbur and the others proposed had concentrated into ire. 'Your arrogance is offensive. You call us together in urgent haste-you have this glass brought before us

-and once again you bring Geraden with you without permission

-as if our course were already decided. Our course is
not
decided. You were deputized to speak for us before the lords of the Cares. You have not told us the outcome of that meeting. You have not told us what was said-what position the lords take. Our course cannot be decided until we have heard a full report, both from you and from Master Gilbur.

'Also the lady has no place in this,' he added grimly. 'Correct your presumption by sending her and the Apt away.'

'Oh, presumption!' the guttural voice of Master Gilbur growled before Eremis could reply. 'It is not presumption. It is survival. We must act or die. Stop trying to shirk the situation, Barsonage. The woman does not matter. But look at Geraden!' He made a chopping gesture with one powerful hand. Every eye in the chamber turned to the Apt. 'He is fumble-footed and disastrous. But he has never been stupid.
Look
at him.'

Geraden appeared unaware of the way he was regarded. He was chewing his lower lip and thinking so hard that the effort made his eyes look wild.

'Where else would you have him? You have already blurted out all the information he needs. In a moment, he will guess the import of what we propose-and then he will be on his way to inform the King. Here, at least, he will have no one to tell.'

As if to prove Gilbur right, Geraden abruptly faced Terisa. At that moment, no one else in the room seemed to exist for him. What he was thinking filled him with dismay.

'Is that what you couldn't tell me?' he whispered. They've decided to call the champion? And Master Eremis had some kind of meeting with the lords of the Cares?' An instant later, he went further. 'But they waited until after the meeting. Master Eremis went to suggest some kind of alliance. The Congery and the lords against King Joyse?'

She couldn't help him. Her heart pounded in her throat as she felt the danger suddenly thicken around him; but there was nothing she could do.

'I've got to warn him.'

So quickly that she had no chance to try to stop him, Geraden headed for the nearest door.

With unexpected speed, Master Gilbur pounced after the Apt. In an effort to reach him, Gilbur struck him from behind. The blow made Geraden trip, so that he slammed against one of the pillars and sprawled to the floor.

At once, Master Gilbur knotted one great fist in the back of Geraden's leather jerkin, and wrenched him to his feet. 'No,

whelp,' he grated. 'You have heard too much. Now you will hear it all.'

Blood trickled from Geraden's temple. The impact of his head left a small red stain on the pillar. For a moment, he struggled as though his heart were breaking. But he couldn't twist away from Gilbur's powerful grip-and his jerkin refused to tear. The fight went out of him, and he sagged into submission.

Terisa wanted to rage at Master Gilbur. The fact that she thought Geraden was wrong made no difference. In misery, she met his dumb pain. 'I'm sorry.'

'It's not your fault,' he replied dully. 'Somebody told you I would be killed if I knew what was going on. Whoever that was, it's his fault.'

Terisa looked around quickly. Master Quillon hadn't raised his head. But Master Eremis' face showed an instant of honest surprise.

He recovered rapidly, however. Frowning, he said, 'She was told the truth, Geraden. You will not believe it-but I brought you here to save your life. Now that you cannot leave, you will live.'

Immediately, he turned to face the rest of the Imagers.

'Masters, if you will sit down and compose yourselves long enough to hear me, I will tell you what happened to my meeting with the lords of the Cares-and why we must act without delay on our decision to translate our champion.'

His manner was commanding; he emanated urgency. After a moment, Master Barsonage said between his teeth, 'Very well, Master Eremis. So far I will go with you. But there is much that I expect you to explain.'

Scowling dourly, he left the centre of the circle to Eremis.

The other Masters followed his example. Before she could be separated from him, Terisa caught Geraden's arm. Master Gilbur's controlling grip forced the two of them to a seat on the bench. At the same time, Master Eremis strode towards the dais.

Almost at once, he began.

'Master, I can make this quite simple.' His tone was soft; but it seemed to carry an echo to the farthest reaches of the room. 'Our meeting with the lords of the Cares was broken up without useful issue because they do not trust us. They believe that we serve King Joyse and wish only to entrap them. Or they believe that we serve ourselves and wish only to make them serve us also.'

'And Master Eremis is accused of arrogance,' one of the younger Imagers put in. 'Are the lords not arrogant?'

As softly as possible, Terisa whispered in Geraden's ear, 'Don't worry. King Joyse already knows.'

He gaped at her in surprise.

'Of course,' Master Eremis went on with deceptive sarcasm, 'the discussion itself was not so simple. First I must inform you that I have been more 'presumptuous' than you know. When I learned of the outcome of his embassy among us, I invited Prince Kragen of Alend to the meeting.'

At that announcement, several of the Masters stiffened. Eremis had their complete attention now. The mediator glared at him furiously, but didn't interrupt.

'I cannot honestly say that I trust any representative of the Alend Monarch. But he protests that he desires peace. And I am certain that he desires to preserve us from Cadwal. For that reason, I considered that his presence would cost nothing at worst, and at best would open the possibility of a much stronger alliance than one uniting only the Congery with the lords.'

'The Fayle told him,' Terisa explained to Geraden. 'About the champion, anyway. Not about the meeting.'

Then why-?' For a second, he forgot to whisper. But the sharp glares of the Masters-and Master Gilbur's grasp on his jerkin-reminded him. 'Why doesn't he do something?'

Visibly mollified, Master Barsonage murmured, 'You surpass yourself, Master Eremis. You are entirely presumptuous-but you are not thick-witted. I feared that this gamble would make the lords unwilling to heed you. Was I wrong?'

Eremis sighed. That is the second matter I must explain. The lords were indeed unwilling to heed me-but not because of Prince Kragen's presence. In truth, I think they would have listened to him well if I had not been there. Their hatred of Alends is less than their distrust of Imagers.'

Several Masters expressed surprise. Others muttered angry curses. But Master Eremis raised his hands to ward off their reactions. 'I do not mean to be unjust. Prince Kragen himself was much interested in our proposal. The Perdon was interested, even eager. But as for the others-' He shrugged. The Armigite has too little sense to know his own mind. And the Tor was too steeped in wine to have a mind.'

'Don't you understand?' Terisa returned, trying to make herself clear to Geraden. That's why Master Eremis doesn't have any choice.'

His gaze was dark with pain. Apparently, he didn't want to understand her as well as he did.

'I believe the Termigan could have been persuaded, under other circumstances,' Master Eremis continued. 'With the Perdon, he might have been enough. We would have had a base on which to build. But it is all made hopeless by the intensity of the Fayle's prejudice against Imagery.'

The Fayle?' asked Master Barsonage. 'He has the reputation of a reasonable man.'

Master Quillon was paying close attention now. His eyes glittered at everything he saw.

'Oh, he is
reasonable,'
Gilbur put in, 'if you call it reasonable that he rejected everything we proposed simply because we mean to call our champion without King Joyse's approval.'

Another Master protested, 'Are you serious? Why did he think you were meeting in secret? Why did he accept your invitation, if the King's approval is so important to him?'

To spy on us,' Master Gilbur growled. 'Why else?'