Lord of Lies

'But the conclave will begin in Tria and the end of Marud! The Valari kings must be there.'

'Lord Valashu,' he said, catching me up in the command of his dark eyes, 'it is one thing for the Valari to come together in alliance with each other. But it is quite another to make alliance with outland kingdoms. That, I'm afraid, is impossible. And more, it is not even desirable.'

Inside my mind, the bright tower to the stars that I had been building suddenly cracked and threatened to crumble. I damped my jaws shut to keep myself from crying out in anger at him

'There must be an alliance,' I said to him. 'Of the Valari, first, and then of all the Free Kingdoms.'

Now it was his turn for anger. I felt it burning up through his heart even though he kept his face as cool as ice. 'Of course, the Maitreya would say that. Or, rather, the one who believes himself to be the Maitreya.'

'Others believe that, too.'

'Perhaps, but fewer than you might hope.'

'It is my hope,' I said, 'at least to gain the confidence of the Valari so that they might see what needs to be done.'

King Waray paused to look beyond the Taron encampment at the fields of the Tournament Grounds. Then his sharp eyes pierced me like arrows. 'You no doubt hope to excel in the competitions. But I must tell you what many are saying: that if you are to prove yourself as the Maitreya you will have to become champion.'

'Do you say this, King Waray?'

'I only repeat the common sentiment.'

'Well, someone must be champion,' I said.

'Three previous champions will be competing tomorrow. Do you really think you can defeat them?'

'Surely that is in the hands of the One.'

'Some would say that your fate lies in your own hands, Valashu Elahad.' He cast a quick, scornful look downward as my fingers gripped the hilt of my sword. 'You competed at the last tournament, and as I remember, your handiwork, while honorable, was not outstanding.'

'Much can change in three years.'

He laughed at me then as if enjoying a great joke. 'Many of my knights have made pilgrimage to Silvassu to view the Lightstone. They have watched you practicing at arms, and a few of them have even crossed lances with you. I'm told that there is no hope of your gaining more than a third at the long lance, and none at all of your pointing at lance throwing or the mace.'

'There is wrestling,' I said.

'At which you might possibly win fourth place.'

'There is archery.'

'A fifth, if you are lucky.'

'There is chess, too.'

He laughed again, harder this time, because he of all men knew that my mastery of this game was not of the highest.

'There is the sword,' I said, squeezing Alkaladurs hilt.

Now King Waray's laughter funneled from his nose like the blare of a trumpet And he called out: 'The sword! Ha, ha, ha! Defeat Lord Dashavay? Impossible!'

For the past three tournaments, Lord Dashavay of Waas had won the sword competition by utterly destroying the defenses of his opponents. No one had ever come close to defeating him. Many acclaimed him the finest swordsman in a thousand years.

King Waray laughed for a few foments more, and then cast at me a criticism that would shame any Valari warrior: 'My knights have told me that no one has even seen you practicing at sword since you returned from your adventure.'

I said nothing as I stared down at Alkaladur's hilt, with its carved swans and diamond pommel stone.

'Clearly, then, you must have no hope of prevailing at the sword,' he told me. 'So clearly you cannot be champion.'

It was the rule of the Tournament that a knight must win at least one first place to be awarded the champion's medallion.

'We always say that a sword is a warrior's soul,' I told him. 'Do not be too quick to damn mine to defeat.'

'I hear it's a great sword you've gained,' he said to me. 'May I see it?'

I drew Alkaladur and the king's doubtful eyes squinted against the glare of its bright gelstei. 'Beautiful. But do not think that it will help you vanquish Lord Dashavay,' he said coolly.

No, perhaps it wouldn't, I thought as my sword showered its radiance upon me. Perhaps Lord Dashavay would win the sword competition as he had before, and be declared the Tournament Champion, as he had before. Or perhaps that honor would fall upon Lord Marjay or Sar Shivamar or another. Perhaps it was not my fate, after all, to be champion or even the Maitreya. Did that truly matter? Perhaps King Hadaru would overcome the hurts and suspicions of his many enemies and find a way to lead the Valari alliance; perhaps King Waray would do this himself. Why should it matter who led the alliance so long as all free peoples stood together against Morjin?

Because one, and one only, can unite the Valari. A voice whispered this inside me, begging me to listen. And then the sun above me seemed to empty itself in a stroke of lightning that ran down my sword and burned straight into my soul. And in the flash of this bright star's fire I saw my fate, even as the voice called to me again, now so loud that I could not ignore it: Because you, and you only, are this one.

'No,' I gasped out as I struggled to keep from falling down to the soft green grass below my feet, 'this sword will not help me vanquish Lord Dashayay. But it will help me vanquish Morjin. And that is why I must speak, as soon as possible, with the Valari kings.'

I pointed my sword past the Taroners' tents toward the field where a hundred tables had been set for the evening's feast. At the largest and centermost table, decorated with vases of white starflowers, I would

soon sit with King Hadaru and King Mohan — and with King Waray himself.

And now this proud and angry king shook his head back and forth, and he snapped. at me, 'Speak at your own risk then, and of all that you desire.'

After that he left me standing alone by the tent of one of his lords and he retired into his much larger pavilion to prepare himself to receive guests. I wandered about the Taron encampment, greeting various strange squires and knights. Several asked me to show them the Lightstone; I told them that they would have to wait for the feast to behold it, when the Guardians would arrive to join me. After a while, I made my way toward the many stalls in the area adjoining the Tournament Grounds' main road. I watched a fire-eater sucking in flames and an acrobat walking along a tightrope stretched between two poles; I gave a few coins to a minstrel who played for me on his mandolet a few sad songs. A haruspex beckoned me closer, and a Tarot master offered to tell my fortune. But I did not want to believe that a few colorfully painted cards chosen at random could hold the key to my future.

At last, from all across the Tournament Grounds and the inns of Nar, King Waray's guests began arriving. Knights from Athar, masters of the Brotherhood, lords and ladies from the rich country beyond the Iron Hills — they all urged their mounts down the various roads and poured into the Taron encampment. At its border, where many posts had been pounded into the ground so that the horses could be tethered, I met Master Juwain and Maram, who rode with Lord Raasharu, Lord Harsha, Behira and Estrella. There, too, I greeted the Guardians and took charge of the Lightstone. My brothers joined me there as well; with them was my uncle, Lord Viromar, who had brought with him a contingent of twenty of Kaash's finest knights. Two ot these — Sar Yarwan and Sar Laisu — had fought by my side in Tria against assassins, and they had also made their own quest for the Lightstone. Lord Viromar, whose emblem was a white snow tiger upon a blue field, was a dark, impassive man of few words. But he was a great warrior renowned for his presence of mind in battle, no less his love of justice, and my father always said that he would make a fine king. In a stream of brightly colored cloth and glittering diamond armor, we all made our way toward the Field of Feasts, where we joined King Waray's others guests. It seemed that King Waray had invited everyone in the city to dine with him, for rows of tables were laden with endless of platters of food. Lord Harsha, Behira and Estrella took their places with Maram and Master Juwain not far from the head table, while the