The Nemisin Star (34 page)

A massive,
priceless, flawless, triangular diamond.

Goddess, where
had Taranis found this and why would he have kept it? His father
had no use for personal wealth. He groped for the dairy, muttering
diamond
, and it fell open as bid. Closing his fingers,
partially only, over the gem, he lifted the book to his lap to
read.

The diamond,
Torrullin, is mine. I fetched it from that loveless, luckless house
I called home for so long, but not over its value, which is
astronomical, but for its purity. Once again, not for the implied
value, or even its beauty, which leaves me cold, but for the
properties inherent in that purity.

We are to
travel many spaces on a crystal driven spaceship to the unknown
reaches of the Forbidden Zone, and what, I ask, is a diamond? I
thought we might need it out there; we may yet. Who knows how the
ship will cope?

However, if
you find it, we have returned home without needing it and can
therefore read these words. There is more. It is a forging device,
but what exactly it will forge, if ever, I cannot say. I do not
know. You will need to keep it safe, bind it to you as it was to
me. It has served me not at all and I hope it needs never serve
you.

Torrullin
closed his father’s diary and exhaled. Was there no end to the
mystery of others?

He dropped the
gem into its pouch and pulled the drawstring in such a way that a
large loop formed, and this he dropped over his head. Murmuring a
binding, he let it hang from his neck and promptly put the
questions it raised aside for another time.

A long time he
stood in his father’s bedroom, unwilling to abandon this final
reminder of the man he loved. His gaze lifted to the world outside
and he was amazed to see it was night and the storm still
raged.

He stirred,
clasped the diary to him and turned to go.

I love you,
father.

How does a
lover say farewell to love without grief dripping from every
word?

~ Lanto, Bards
and Tales champion

The Keep

T
ristamil and Saska were in his study, gazing with sadness
upon Taranis’ books when he arrived.

He almost
resented their intrusion.

Tristamil was
obviously concerned for him.

“Do not
mollycoddle; rather ask how the confrontation with Margus went,”
Torrullin said. He headed to his desk and opened a drawer - the one
always locked - and deposited Taranis’ diary within, closing it
firmly.

Saska’s mouth
set. “He is merely worried, Torrullin.”

He gave her a
cold stare. “I know how my son feels.”

“Gods, what is
happened to you?”

“You need
ask?”

“How was it
with Margus?” Tristamil intervened.

Torrullin’s
flinty gaze snapped his way and he relented. “It went well. I
learned a thing or two.”

“Excellent.
Where is he?”

“I suspect
offworld.”

“Is that
good?”

“Pros and
cons. We gain a little time.”

Saska glanced
from one to the other. “I know something is in the air, don’t try
and fool me.”

There was a
short silence and Torrullin murmured, “We are to talk tonight,
Saska. I will tell you what I can.”

She responded,
“Well, I should be happy with those small mercies, I guess.”

“Do not try my
patience, not now. If you want to do something constructive, help
me with Taranis’ things.”

Tristamil
moved first, carefully lifting a book and as carefully finding the
right slot for it. Saska watched him, and went to help. She soon
felt Torrullin beside her, lovingly handling the books. For a too
brief time the atmosphere was companionable, if saddened by the
knowledge of whom the works had belonged to and why they had now
come to the Keep.

“The box?”
Saska asked finally.

“Papers I need
to go through with greater attention; put them in the cupboard.” As
she did so, he lifted the dusty little bookshelf and placed it
behind his desk, his fingers lingering there. When he turned it was
to find his son with an expression that clearly said
this is how
I am to feel soon
. Torrullin grimaced, rounded his desk and
stood before him. “I do understand.”

“Find another
way.”

“There is no
longer another option, Tris. I discovered this day he plans the
same thing.”

Tristamil
swore and moved away.

“Saska, will
you take the jewellery and aftershave to our chambers?”

Her tongue
pushed her cheek out as she looked at him. She retrieved the items
and headed for the door, pausing there. “As you requested, the
Elders are downstairs.”

“Thank
you.”

“So polite. I
could strangle you.” She left.

“You have to
fix it and soon, father.”

“I know.”

“Have you
eaten?”

“Eaten?”
Torrullin echoed, sounding surprised. “I do not think so.”

“I will fetch
…”

“I am not
hungry.”

Tristamil
lapsed into thoughtful silence before saying, “You are doing final
things.”

“I have no
clear time frame, so I suppose I am, while I have this grace
period.” Torrullin gazed around him. “Do you think someone will
keep this untouched until I return, even if it is longer than
expected?” His gaze rested on Taranis’ sword on the counter.

“You could
make it so.”

Torrullin
stared at him and then looked away. There was nothing to say.

“I shall keep
it the way it is.”

“Son, I prefer
you make this space your own. In fact, redo the entire Keep, make
it new, change, break from the shadow. Tris, understand this, I am
all shadow, while you are all light. Make it shine out, a beacon
…”

“Your
beacon?”

“Yes. Always
will you be my beacon.”

“As you are
mine.”

Torrullin
wanted to disavow the latter and knew he would simply cause
unnecessary pain. “Start afresh, that is all I ask.”

Tristamil
shrugged.

Torrullin
hefted his father’s sword and put it in the cupboard with Taranis’
papers. He straightened. “I doubt I will find the time to study
these documents, and some are sensitive. Get to them soon, will
you?”

Tristamil’s
face tightened. “Of course.”

“I cannot die,
my son; it cannot be forever. It will not be long, not for a
Valleur like you.”

“I guess.”

“Come, the
Elders are waiting.”

“I aim to keep
this brief,” Torrullin said a while later on the dais. “The main
point is that it has come to the time of confrontation. Commence
and implement all evacuation and safety procedures forthwith.”

“So soon?”
Pretora rose from among the seated Elders.

“This time
Margus will not delay and his recent injury deferred little. Expect
the worst.”

Vannis was
grim-faced behind the Elders. “Where is he?”

“On some
errand, offworld. We have only days.” Torrullin paused as he became
aware of movement about the side entrance. “Ah, Caltian, Krikian,
enter. Matt, welcome.”

Krikian bowed.
“My Lord, did we hear right?”

“The time is
come, yes. You and Caltian are now charged with added evacuation
strategy. Use whomever you need and ferry as many as possible to
Luvanor.”

Caltian paled,
“Luvanor, my Lord?”

“What is the
problem, Caltian? Are you skittish in bringing strangers to your
homeworld, or do you dislike the change of name?”

Caltian
blanched. “Neither, my Lord. I am merely surprised.”

“Luvanor is
your world’s ancient and true name, Caltian. Thus it will be
known.”

Caltian bowed.
“Yes, my Lord Vallorin.”

Torrullin
inclined his head and addressed Krikian again. “Ferry Valleur and
human, and place them temporarily in Teighlar’s care, starting
now.”

“As you will,
my Lord, but the storm still rages.”

“I need not be
obvious, do I?”

It was
Krikian’s turn to pale. “We shall be ready the instant it lets
up.”

“Why
Teighlar?” Vannis said. “Surely Creed is able to handle
refugees?”

Torrullin
answered, “Creed currently rebuilds a world. Teighlar’s city has
the necessary resources to take on others. The Senlu cannot now be
selfish.”

“Very cavalier
of you.”

“We use what
we must, Vannis.” His grandfather stared at him; Torrullin ignored
him. “Matt, you know what to do. Set it in motion.”

Matt
acknowledged with a nod.

“Pretora, be
sure to get the children out first.”

“Yes, my
Lord,” he answered Torrullin.

“You may all
go. Matt, stay a moment.”

The Elders
rose and Kismet wanted to speak, wanted to ask about Cèlaver, but
Pretora pulled at him shaking his head. The Elders filed out, among
them Krikian and Caltian. The names of Gren and David were heard …
and then they were out of hearing range.

Torrullin
shifted to Saska. “I shall be with you in an hour. Is that
suitable?”

She was
dismissed. “Of course,” she murmured and left.

As Matt
approached the dais from one side, Vannis strode closer from the
other. “What is with you, Torrullin? And you, Tris, on edge?”

“I am not sure
what you mean,” Torrullin responded.

“Tired,”
Tristamil muttered.

“Yes, and I
find that strange. Weary as you are, it is straight from Cèlaver
and into the fray. Suddenly all evacuation commences and yet Margus
is absent. What is it with you two?”

Tristamil
sucked at his teeth and decided to leave before he inadvertently
said something.

“Vannis, the
time has come, that is all,” Torrullin murmured.

“I know that,
and do not doubt confrontation is potentially destructive, but that
is not what I refer to. You two are tense. It is personal.”

Torrullin
wisely kept quiet, also worried he might involuntarily let
something slip, and waited pointedly until Vannis took the hint and
left, muttering to himself.

“Matt.”
Torrullin ran a hand through his hair. “Certain matters have now
changed irrevocably, and under these new circumstances I seek to
release you from your formal oath.”

Matt crossed
his arms. “It stands.”

“There is no
one here, Matt. Retract and nobody will ever be the wiser. Vannis
will not say anything.”

“I am not
retracting,” Matt said without hesitation.

Torrullin
studied the Xenian and inclined his head in defeat. Clearly the man
would not be budged. Contrarily, he admired him more.

“The formal
swearing must be soon. Gather your evacuees, do the necessary, and
meet me here three nights hence. After the oath of fealty is
acknowledged, you are to be taken from Valaris to commence your
training.” Matt said nothing and, smiling at the courage in that,
Torrullin added, “You are to be trained in sorcery as per Valleur
requirements, and when you are done you will be among us in power
as well as heart.”

Matt’s arms
loosened and he swallowed. “It’s pretty taxing, right?”

“Very, but if
you remain true to your beliefs you can survive it.”

“Survive?”

“That would be
the operative word.”

Matt took a
breath. “Very well. How long will I be away?”

“No less than
ten years.”

“Aaru, what
about Cat and Lowen … never mind, I accept that … wow.”

Torrullin
grinned. “They will be taken care of, have no fear.”

Matt smiled.
“Hell’s bells. So I’ll be able to throw a bolt of lightning and
stuff like that?”

“Indeed, and
more. Matt, your oath will bind you to whomever sits on the Throne,
do you understand that?”

“My oath is to
you.”

“It is to the
Throne.”

“If you say
so. Christ, you are expecting … man, you talk like someone who
believes he is about to die, Torrullin.”

Torrullin did
not look away and his face betrayed nothing, but he did not refute
the Xenian’s statement either.

“Holy moly.”
Matt rubbed at his eyes. “But you are immortal … oh, I get it.
Rebirth. Cèlaver. How long before you return?”

“This is
rhetorical, my friend, right? This conversation did not take place.
A day, a thousand years, who knows?”

“Aaru,” Matt
muttered and crossed himself.

“You may go,
Matt. Three nights?”

The Xenian
nodded, speechless, and left walking like an old and shocked
man.

Torrullin
threaded a hand through his hair again.

Getting those
in his orbit to accept his plan would not be easy.

Fortune
favours the brave. Heard that? Claptrap! Complication favours the
brave.

~ Tattle

The Keep

T
ristamil searched for Rillinon,
Mitrill’s father.

It was time to
put his plan into action; his mind was set, and now he needed to
find out how far he could push at the boundaries in this issue.

The Elders
gathered in the meeting room alongside the Dragon doors, and those
already present did not look up as he entered. They were deep into
organising and communicating with others to put the processes of
evacuation, safety, and general defence into motion.

Outside the
storm gradually muted; there were mere hours left until the way was
calm enough to spring into physical action.

Gren was in
attendance and had to wait for the weather to clear further before
he could recall the Dome. In Bartholamu’s absence he was regarded
as Lord of the Guardians, a task he relished not at all. The duty
of evacuation was ever heart-rending.

Belun in
humanoid form entered behind Tristamil, slapped him on the back,
winked, and made his way to the Sagorin.