Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles (12 page)

It was not the first time for that argument. Cefwyn still held to the Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles other side, the one that sought to reconcile Murandys and Ryssand to the war, and not to split the kingdom in bitter division… as perhaps he could not avoid; but he tried to prevent it. Looking to the day of an allied Elwynor, he tried to avoid it.

“And if we have the north opposed, that slaughter will go on. There will be other provocations. There will be other chances for war. We can both foresee them. We must have war stopped, crow. We must fight a little war
across
the river to avoid a more grievous war here, among our own barons. We must have no more, no more fighting to give wizards a foothold in our lands. No more, crow.”

“Then remember you sent your royal father advisement regarding the lord of Ynefel. Did you not, my lord, advise your father regarding him and the Elwynim prophecy? And if to your father,
then
to your father’s intimates,
and
to Lord Brysaulin?”

Dire thought. Chilling thought. “Brysaulin is an honorable man.”

“For the welfare of the realm… to what other guides would an honorable man resort with his king dead and the Prince consorting with wizards? My lord king will have to inform me. As we all know, I am from time to time uninformed on points of honor.”

To the Quinalt, to Murandys, to Llymaryn, to
Efanor
, if Lord Brysaulin had ever relied on anyone. And Efanor had been choleric and convinced of perfidy in the days after their father’s death.

“Remember that Lord Heryn Aswydd was the purveyor of truths to your royal father,” Idrys said, “and I would not begin to imagine the fervid imagination of Heryn Aswydd.”

“Or the scope of his lying tongue.”

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles

“Nor all imaginings. He had substance on which to practice, my lord king. And you yourself sent that message, which your father’s natural suspicion would have taken for ten times less than Heryn’s
loyal
truth.”

“And thus my father relied on Heryn, and thus died. Add to it the work of wizards, the work of priests, which I count little different…”

“Oh, never say
that
in council.”

“There are many truths I don’t say in council, crow.”

“And to me?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “Perhaps I have a secret. Perhaps not. If I answered that you’d know, would you not?”

“If I answered
that
, my lord king, I would serve my lord king less well than I do. Tristen of Ynefel is far too potent a wizard to loose in this war of petticoats and pennies. He cannot become Quinalt.”

“Yet he must appear,
must appear
in public. The more he stays hidden the more rumors fly about him, and better him now than Her Grace. That… that, I cannot allow.”

“It is a risk.”

“All things are a risk, master crow. Let my brother practice persuasion on him. Let the Quinalt do its best. Efanor is not a fool…

he if anyone knows what was said that provoked my father to ride to Amefel, into Heryn’s trap, and all he will say to me is that Father distrusted me and Heryn fed the fire. Efanor himself
burns
to atone for believing it and for not dissuading our father; that compels him.

He
is
faithful to me. Say that he’s faithful, master crow.“

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles

“To my observation, he is.”

Cefwyn let go a heavy breath. “There is no great love, now, in our brotherhood; but guilt, that we have, each of us, each for not loving the other, I suspect. He loves the notion of loving me. But Tristen
is
my brother. And that galls him. Is he jealous?”

“Jealousy is a sin, Your Majesty. And His Highness hates his sins, every time he does them.”

“Someday I must make peace with him. Inform him. Inform him he will inform Tristen on the Quinalt, make a godly man of him…”

“A Man, you say.”

“Close as he
may
do, damn your wit. Mine’s fled.” He set the cup down emptied, resisting the impulse to fling it at the wall. “Hates his sins, does he? So do I. So do I, crow. And my father’s sins, how do I number them?”

“I left your father’s service,” Idrys said. “He no longer liked my reports regarding you. So I ceased to make them. It seemed a fair arrangement.”

Uwen went off to his small nook to sleep and Tristen let his servants put him to bed, his very comfortable bed in an apartment far finer than he had had in Amefel, rooms on the highest level of the Guelesfort. The bedchamber had evening stars painted on the ceiling, and white clouds against a dark sky. The glow from the newly banked fire in the fireplace showed him just a little of that paintwork, a shadowy view sparked with the silver inlay of a star Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles catching the firelight.

A sword stood sheathed beside the fireplace. He had had master Peygan forge him a blade after Lewenbrook.
Truth
was the symbol on one side of it;
Illusion
was written on the other. But it had gone unused in Guelessar. Now he asked himself where he might write
Appearances
, which had been Cefwyn’s word tonight. He would become friendly to the Quinalt, for Appearances. He would join the barons, for Appearances. He would avoid magic, for Appearances.

The sword stood in the corner, in disuse. Other men practiced.

Uwen practiced. He did not, hating the feeling that came on him when he took up the thing. It was another kind of Unfolding, a terrible one, sure of its power and uncaring.

To secure peace with Elwynor, to end the war that had existed through the reigns of Cefwyn’s grandfather and father… dared he hope now that Mauryl’s purpose for him extended that far? He would, in the spring, cross the river into Elwynor for Ninévrisë’s sake, and there deal death with that sword, but he would not win, because it would offend the barons.

There was so much temptation to know, to reach back, and to bend his life backward, backward, backward, until it met itself on the Road.

And he knew the way back to that Road. He had found it today, on the hilltop. But it was a terrible way, fraught with dangers. He perceived that if he truly used it he risked his own existence. A young man sitting against a tree in Marna Wood perceived a terrible presence, like a shadow in the woods… and he had been both young man and shadow. Dared he be a third presence? Dared he reach Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles toward Ynefel again by that Road, to see whether it was still safe?

The young man had seen nothing. The shadow had fought shadows, and Hasufin had ruled that Road.

He dared not venture that way again. His heart beat hard at the very thought.

Lying on his back, his hands on the fine, thick, comfortable bedclothes, he reached out, instead, all forbidden, for Emuin, and found the two presences he knew well in the Guelesfort, one on the floor just below him: Ninévrisë was unaware of him, was thinking instead of Cefwyn, all warm and full of love. He skimmed away, and above him, aloft, up in the dark, found Emuin in his tower, Emuin, whom he trusted would answer him, call him a fool, tell him when he was right and wrong and whether he dared even contemplate gods.

—
Master Emuin
.

The old man was not quite startled, but disapproved his intrusion, a
chill wind in the gray space that wavered and then paid attention.

—
Idrys will come tomorrow to ask you, Tristen said. Cefwyn says

Efanor will tell me about the Quinalt if you approve, sir. I know

you disapprove my venturing here, but Cefwyn says I must visit

the Quinalt with the court in two days. He believes it’s a question

of appearances, and it will please the Patriarch. Dare I?

—
It seems you have already agreed and I have little to do with it.

The old man was still shadowy and faint to him, tattering in the

pearl-gray winds of the place. Why? Why have you agreed to this?

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles
He could not lie in the world of Men with any great skill at all.

Here, it was far more difficult. And he knew in his heart he had
agreed.
Because I want to be free, master Emuin. And because I

think Cefwyn is in danger of these barons as much as of the rebels

across the river
.

—
Free. free. What does that mean, free… do you at all know?

Free of what? Free from what? And what more could you do for

Cefwyn than you have done?

Hard questions. Fearsome questions.
Free to help my friends. Free

to defend Cefwyn. Free to ride through Wys village and have the

children not take alarm. And what I might do stands in the corner

yonder. By my own will I would never touch it. But I will, for

Cefwyn’s sake, when I must. These men that press Cefwyn with

their wants, they are not his friends. Never were they mine, nor

will ever be. I could win Cevulim, even Lord Pelumer. Never these

men.

The gray space shadowed, showed clouds, rare detail, in this place
that teased the eye with no shapes at all.

—
Beware of anger
, Emuin said, and the clouds grew lighter.
Anger

and folly walk arm in arm, young lord. Enough that Cefwyn

dallies with them, do not you join him.

—
I shall meet with Efanor, by your leave, sir. Idrys is on his way

to ask you. He counseled caution. But Cefwyn said… Cefwyn said

if the Quinalt could shape a way for me to enter, it would shape a

place where all Elwynor could fit.

—
Revising their doctrine to accommodate Mauryl’s heir, is it?

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles

And so master crow will consult me. A wonder in itself. Master

crow will consult. Most often things are already settled and have

grandchildren, before master crow consults. Gods save the king, I

say.

—
Can they? Save the king, that is? What are the gods, sir? Are

they shadows
?

—
I’m sure I don’t know. I leave that knotty matter to His

Highness. I leave him heaven and hell and all blessedness. I made

that choice for good and all when I took up wizardry again. And

what I gave up, the gods know that, too
.

—
Is Efanor wise, sir
?

—
Ah, now you ask me
.

—
Shall I rely on him for truth, sir?
He perceived master Emuin
retreating from him, growing more distant, and more distant again,
and he erased a little of that distance, enough to make himself heard
without shouting… erased a little of that distance, because he could
do such things here. He could do more than master Emuin in this
place, truth be told; but he knew his own ignorance, too.
I ask your

advice, master Emuin. I ask you plainly, are there gods, master

Emuin? And are they as Efanor will tell me?

—
There is a greedy, conniving man in Murandys
, the answer
came back to him, troubling, at the edge of sleep.
There is the love

of comforts in Llymaryn. There is a frightened man in the

Quinaltine. Those three things and those three men move half the

court. Ryssand’s malice would be powerless without Murandys’

greed. As for gods, there may be. Go to sleep. Do what I cannot

Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles

prevent you from doing
.

—
Ought I not, sir? Ought I to do what Cefwyn wishes, and lie, as

he wishes
—
or not
?

—
Ah, now the second true question. Now that it ’s far too late, the

question none of us can answer. Go, do as you can do. If Idrys

comes tomorrow to consult me, probably I shall agree. Cefwyn

held you out of all questions and now he places you in the heart of

them. That will have consequences, young lord, and predicting

these things might change them. You will do as you will. Efanor

seeks gods. Let Efanor beware lest he find one he does not expect
.

Emuin was fading, and slid away from him. Perhaps, Tristen thought with a chill, priests or gods could hear them. But he had seen no one else in the gray space. That Ninévrisë was so close and he had not heard or seen her during his converse with Emuin meant they had been more subtle than her near and sleeping presence could detect. She was in a way their sentry, and never knew.

He lay in his bed, beneath the painted sky. A staff faithful to him was sleeping all around. Uwen was there, his day guards, too, asleep, while the night guards stood their posts. He felt the presence of a full score lives, knew their solid, mortal faithfulness to him, a precious attendance, and frail, and protecting all he was. He could fight battles and lead armies. But the simplest of his servants was wiser in the world than he, and understood, perhaps, the questions he would never answer.

In bestowing Ynefel on him and not on Emuin, who would have been the more reasoned choice, Cefwyn had cast far too much on Cherryh, C J - Fortress 02- Fortress of Eagles his understanding, and it still was so scant. Emuin would say, always,
Judge for yourself, young sir
.