Havenstar (67 page)

—
from the later writings of Meldor the
Blind

Meldor leant
against the railing of the balcony that overlooked the audience
room of the Hall. The map tables had been long since cleared away.
Now there were rows of chairs for the dignitaries who’d be taking
part in the ceremony to come, and at the head of the room there
were ten thrones side by side. Meldor could not see what was
happening below, but his other senses told him that some of the
middle-ranking Tricians and clerics had already arrived.
Conversation drifted upwards and with a little effort he could
separate one voice from another.

‘—colour
everywhere,’ someone was muttering venomously. ‘Shouldn’t be
allowed—’

Mingled in
with the voices was the faint tinkling of chantor bells sewn to
stoles of office. When he listened carefully and used his ley to
filter out other noise, he could even hear someone, a servant
presumably, brushing the velvet that covered the thrones. Shortly
Rugriss Ruddleby’s reluctant backside would be gracing one of those
chairs next to the Margrave of Havenstar. Meldor felt a very
unregal satisfaction.

A moment later
the door behind him opened. Someone must have seen him up on the
balcony and he turned, senses alert. Pleasure arrived hard on the
heels of his surprise. ‘Keris!’ he said. ‘My dear, I’m delighted
you came. Is Davron here too?’

‘Yes, indeed.’
She walked to stand at his side, and looked down into the Hall.
‘He’s down there now. And don’t tell me you didn’t know.’

‘Yes, I knew.
I can feel his ley at five hundred paces. But tell me, how is he?
How does he look?’

He sensed her
softening. ‘He is well. Today, in fact, he’s rather magnificent, if
I may say so. He’s dressed in scarlet and black and he wears enough
gold jewellery to sink a wildbell.’

‘Ah. I gather
from that he intends to be a slap in the face to Chantry.’

She laughed.
‘Of course! He—he is finding it hard to accept what you’re doing,
Margraf. As you know, his feelings toward Chantry are decidedly,
er,
mixed
.’

‘I can hardly
blame him. But I have my reasons.’

She turned
towards him, seeking something in his face. ‘Then tell me. Why must
you deal with them? I know they came to our aid when the Minions
attacked. I know they helped us defeat those who survived the
burning of the maps. But we both know they initially came to wipe
us off the face of the land. Why must we deal with men and women
who’d rather see us dead than see us free?’

‘I would not
deal with them at all, except we’re in the position to dictate
terms. Keris, no mapmaker outside Havenstar has discovered how easy
it is to make trompleri maps. They all still think that you have to
dig in ley lines to find the ingredients, and even with the Unmaker
gone, they are chary of the vagaries of ley. They would rather buy
their trompleri paints and inks from us. And none of them knows how
we use maps to stabilise the Unstable. The Margraves do not know.
Chantry does not know. They all have to come to us, to ask us to
make their stabilities bigger, to convert the Unstable for them. As
the old saying goes, we own the quarry for the stone to make the
house.’

‘Then why make
concessions to Chantry? Why are you allowing them and their
sanctimonious encoloured inside Havenstar to set up their
chanteries?’

‘Because it
means they will acquiesce to what I want—what
we
want in
return.’

‘Which
is?’

‘All land
south of the Writhe and the Riven, all the way to the borders of
Yedron, if the place still exists. To do whatever we want,
including impregnate it with ley to make a land suitable for people
like you and me and Scow. We build for the future. With this
treaty, signed by the Anhedrin and every single Margrave, we become
a separate nation, not part of what will be New Malinawar. We will
truly be Havenstar, separate and free and different.’

‘And
Chantry-guided.’

He laughed. ‘I
doubt it. Keris, think. Chantry has based their power on keeping
Order, on the necessity of the Rule and maintaining kinesis chains.
Now none of those things are necessary! As a consequence, Chantry
is desperately scheming for power and losing out to the Margraves,
and at the same time they’re having to fight a battle for
ascendancy over the hearts and minds of people who don’t need them
any more.’ He shook his head in mock sympathy. ‘Let them come. If
they want any credibility then they must cater to the people’s need
for spiritual guidance. As a temporal power they are finished. But
I am not so foolish as to think they can be ignored forever. People
need them.’

She was silent
for such a long time he wondered if she accepted what he said.

Finally she
said in a voice that was barely a whisper. ‘He touched us both, out
there. That day when I burned the map.’

‘Pardon?’

‘The
Maker.’

He absorbed
the implications of that and felt a pang of painful jealousy begin
behind his breastbone. With effort he pushed it back down. ‘What do
you mean?’

‘We both felt
Him. And I can tell you one thing, He doesn’t need to be
worshipped. He doesn’t even need to be thanked. Why should He? He
is the Creator! All He wants of us is that we take care of That
Which Was Created—nothing more.’

Lord
Maker
, he thought, his bitterness almost overwhelming.
Why
did You come to her? Why not me?
He took a deep breath and
subdued the pain. ‘Keris, it has never been He who needs us. But
that’s a subject for a long philosophical discussion, not something
we have time for now! We will talk of it another time. Did you have
a particular reason for seeking me out just now?’

‘No. Just
to—to say congratulations, I guess.’

He heard the
dryness in her tone and matched it with his own. ‘You think I’m
inhuman, don’t you?’ He blocked off the sounds from the hall and
concentrated wholly on her, making her the total focus of his
being. Others called it charisma, but he knew it was nothing more
than a trick of calculated concentration, turned on and off at
will. He said, his candour deliberate, ‘The larger picture has
always seemed … more important to me than the players. If that is a
crime, then I am guilty.’

‘Yes, you
are,’ she said, forthright as usual. ‘When we got back from our
trip, for example, you could at least have asked us about—well, the
more personal aspects. Instead of just wanting to know how many
trompleri maps I’d made and whether Rugriss Ruddleby had listened
to what Davron had to say.’

‘Ah.’ So that
was what rankled was it?

Once the last
of the maddened Minions and pets had been despatched or scattered,
he’d sent Davron, Keris and Scow out to all the stabilities of Old
Malinawar, carrying Havenstar’s message: for the price of a treaty,
Havenstar would sell them stability. Keris had mapped some of the
crucial regions of the Unstable as they went, making the first of
the trompleri maps they would one day burn—in secret—to fulfil
their side of the treaty. Davron as negotiator had spoken with the
Margraves and even, reluctantly, with Rugriss Ruddleby. Eventually,
he’d promised them, all the Unstable north of the Riven and Writhe
would be stable. He’d not given the rulers of the stabilities a
time frame, because Meldor had no intention of achieving it
too
quickly. For Havenstar’s sake, he intended to make the
stabilities pay, well into the future, for every bit of land that
was claimed back from the Unstable.

The trip had
been a long one. It was a year before Keris and Davron and Scow had
ridden back into Havenstar. ‘Not as bad a journey as it used to
be,’ Davron had said laconically after greeting Meldor. ‘With no
Carasma lurking in the ley lines, or unmaking the landscape, with
far fewer Minions or pets than there used to be, things are much
tamer out there.’

‘Don’t believe
him,’ Keris had contradicted. ‘Make him tell you about the Minions
that attacked us near the Fourth, or the pet that ate one of our
horses as we crossed the Wide, or the whirlwind that came through
our camp up near Bartle’s Halt.’

In time,
Meldor had indeed heard about those incidents, and he’d read
Davron’s official report, but he’d never bothered to ask whether
Davron had gone to see his daughter, or if Keris had seen her older
brother. It hadn’t seemed important.

‘Remiss of
me,’ he admitted now. ‘I do know that you went to the Fifth twice
during your trip, but Davron’s daughter has not returned with you
to Havenstar. And I can hear the pain in him still.’ He hesitated.
‘Is it now too late to ask what happened?’

Once again she
was silent so long he wondered if she was going to reply at all.
Then she said carefully, ‘Yes, we went to the Fifth twice. In the
stabs he is a hero, you know. The man who banished the Unmaker.
It’s a little hard to take, but at least it opens doors.
Tower-and-Fleury had to welcome him. But it was…difficult for
Mirrin. She has such conflicting memories of what happened the day
she met Carasma. And her mother poured all sorts of nonsense into
her ears before she vanished into Chantry. They are not barriers
you can break down in a day or two. However, she is a bright,
kind-hearted little girl, and time mends most things.’ She smiled.
‘And she has a lively curiosity. I write to her, you know, telling
her about the magic of Havenstar, and she’s gradually developing a
desire to see for herself. Unfortunately, she cannot bring herself
to cross a ley line. So we’ll have to wait until we have made the
stability roads between all the stabs and Havenstar.’

‘You are not
going to give up.’

He felt her
slow smile. ‘Me? No.’ And then she sighed. ‘He still does not find
it easy, Meldor. Those who remember Dawnbreak call him the
Betrayer. In the streets of Shield there are those who spit on him.
There is still …a darkness in him. She could take that away.’

He nodded. ‘I
know.’ He turned away from the Hall and faced her once more. ‘And
what of you? Did you see your brother?’

‘Yes. He runs
a successful tavern now, where Kaylen the Mapmaker’s used to be.’
There was another long pause. ‘My mother died about three weeks
after I left Kibbleberry.’

‘Ah.’ Aware
that an expression of sympathy would have been suspect, he switched
the topic back to Thirl Kaylen. ‘Did your brother give you any
problems?’

‘He might have
done, except that he’s scared silly of Davron. And Davron paid for
the things I stole.’ He heard laughter in her voice as she added,
‘Except for the dowry money. Davron just fixed him with one of
those black stares of his and growled, “That was intended as a
dowry, and that’s what it was. If you want it back, ask me for it.”
Thirl didn’t say another word.’

‘Is there
anything else I should ask to redeem myself? Perhaps I should ask
after Scow. Where is he? Why didn’t he come today?’

‘I believe he
is visiting Corrian. He said to tell you that not even the promise
of the most lavish repast in all the history of Havenstar could get
him to sit through eight Margraves and Rugriss Ruddleby making
speeches.’

Meldor laughed
‘Something hasn’t changed, at least! Still, I do wish he was here.
The Chameleon too.’
There, another sign of concern.

Her voice
softened. ‘Yes.’ She had trouble getting the words out. ‘Maker, how
I—how I miss him!’

They fell
silent for a moment, remembering. There were so many who would not
be present at the signing ceremony. So many who had died battling
Minions and pets. So many who had simply vanished, eaten perhaps.
The pang Meldor felt was suddenly genuine. He said, ‘He will never
be forgotten. He is already part of Havenstar legend.’

‘Yes,’ she
whispered. ‘But he’s not here.’

He nodded,
knowing what she meant, and with a touch of smugness, played his
winning piece. ‘One more thing, Keris. I added a codicil to the
treaty we are signing with Chantry. One more requirement I have
demanded of them. Perhaps it will help to—er—appease Davron when he
learns of it.’

She looked at
him in inquiry. ‘Oh?’

He nodded
towards the closed door of an anteroom in front of them. ‘Why don’t
you take a look.’

Mystified, she
went to open the door. She expected to find some sort of document;
instead Nablon was there, watching over a small boy seated on the
floor, engrossed in the movement on a trompleri map in front of
him.

Nablon’s
mandibles clacked in embarrassment. ‘Oh, Mistress! One of your
maps, I’m sorry. It was the only thing I had to amuse a
six-year-old.’

She stared
long and hard before turning back to Meldor. ‘Six-year-old?’

He nodded.
‘It’s amazing what you can prise away from Chantry if you have the
right price.’

‘Oh. Oh,
Meldor—!’

It was just as
well that no one in the Hall below looked up just then. Otherwise
they would have seen the Margrave of Havenstar being soundly kissed
by another man’s wife.

~~~~~~~

Davron was
suffering the attentions of Cylrie Mannertee when a servant
appeared at his side to tell him that his wife would like to see
him in the anteroom. Gratefully, he turned back to Cylrie.
‘Hedrina, you must excuse me.’

She smiled
coyly. ‘Of course, Milor’. One must always obey the summons of
one’s spouse. But we shall meet again, I hope? And
soon…perhaps?’

Gracefully he
kissed her fingertips in a very Trician gesture, and smiled
charmingly. ‘Not if I can help it,’ he said.

He was already
out of the hall before the import of his words had sunk in.

The servant,
half awed and half fearful just at being in his presence, ushered
him to the anteroom and bowed reverently before leaving. Davron had
not expected to find Keris alone, but neither had he expected to
find her in the company of a child.