and from there by sea to the Castle of Controlling Power. However, Hearst doubted that they would survive such a journey. Even if Farfalla did not plot against them, their wealth – the red and green bottles and the death-stone – would tempt their guides and escorts beyond endurance.
Accordingly, Blackwood, Hearst and Miphon left Selzirk before dawn, setting out along the Salt Road on fast horses. Hearst had decided that, if they were pursued, he would not hesitate to use the death-stone; he hoped he would not be put to that necessity.
Hearst was deeply troubled by his new insights into the past; Miphon, for his part, was already beginning to worry about the delicate task of diplomacy that would face him at the Castle of Controlling Power, when he would have to introduce a Rovac warrior to the Confederation of Wizards.
But Blackwood travelled with a light heart, for, thanks to Miphon, he no longer saw visions. He had been released from the weight of an intolerable burden: he was free. Free for what? He had not yet decided: for the moment he was content to travel the Salt Road under the summer sun. Occasionally he thought of other places, other times: but it was over a year since they had first marched from Castle Vaunting, leaving it in the grip of a mad-jewel; the memories of the past were fading, and Blackwood faced the future.
Blackwood carried a fine Selzirk bow and a quiver of arrows; when they camped at evening, he set up a target and practised, sending the arrows singing home. If they sheltered in a village, Blackwood negotiated to secure food and lodgings; if they met travellers on the road, he hailed them, and passed the time of day with them for a while, exchanging information about conditions on the road.
Miphon and Hearst, busy with their own thoughts, were happy to let Blackwood handle these responsibilities. They had every confidence in him. For Blackwood, much had changed since he first left Estar: the greatest change was that he could now inspire confidence in a wizard of the order of Nin and a warrior of Rovac.
And so they travelled south, through the Harvest Plains to Veda.
Veda's battlements, blood red, towered into the sky, suggesting a monument to evil. But inside, all was peace: windowless corridors of luminous milky white, curving away in smooth arcs, led to libraries, sleeping quarters, meditation chambers and study rooms. The corridors were warm; asking about the warmth, the travellers were told that Veda fed upon heat from deep underground.
The varied wonders of Veda made little impression on the travellers, who were by now prepared to take anything in their stride; Veda would only have surprised them if it had turned out to be commonplace. Besides, Veda's greatest treasures were works of art, which none of the three had much of an eye for.
Morgan Hearst could appraise the approximate value of a piece of gold or jewellery, or tell a fine weapon at a glance, but hardly noticed Veda's artworks. Blackwood liked tapestries showing people and animals, and Miphon liked landscape paintings, but there was nothing like that in Veda. There was Aromsky's sculpture in bronze: The Ethical Structure of the Universe. There was the anonymous ivory called The Seven Spheres of Space and Time. There was Kere-mansky's Temptation of Zero by Infinity. The travellers, when they noticed these masterpieces at all, thought them cold, alien, ugly, uninviting.
Life in Veda itself was strange. All work was done by the Secular Arm, an organisation dominated by military and mercantile considerations. The Secular Arm would recruit anyone and anything that could stand on two legs; for administrative convenience it used the Galish Trading Tongue.
The sages of Veda, who spoke a language almost identical to the High Speech of wizards, lived lives of meditation, prayer and study. The travellers, regarding Veda only as a waystation, did not attempt to study the sages, but did try and bargain with them for a bodyguard. Hearst, remembering how they had been picked out by Erhed on first entering Selzirk, wanted armed protection for the journey through the Rice Empire.
Miphon, negotiating with the head of the Secular Arm, took the trouble of reading the man's mind. He had given up doing this without excellent cause: he had swiftly grown profoundly tired of the murky hatred, jealousy, lust, envy, deceit, self-pity, cowardice, greed, treachery and self-delusion dominating so many human minds. He was pleased to find that the head of the Secular Arm was an honourable man who would keep to the bargain they had made.
The bargain was that Miphon would heal all illnesses that were brought to him within the next ten days – Miphon demonstrated his skills by healing the headman's haemorrhoids – then the Secular Arm would provide a bodyguard of two hundred troops to see the expedition through the Rice Empire, plus papers certifying that they constituted an embassy from Veda travelling to Provincial Endergeneer.
Day after day, while Miphon saw long lines of people, Hearst practised with his sword, continuing the training Farfalla had started him on. Meanwhile Blackwood went hunting in the surrounding countryside, riding out each day with horse and falcon.
Miphon found his labours exhausting yet exhilarating. Nothing defeated the sleeping secrets. He destroyed the most stubborn infections; he made limbs regenerate; he healed injuries to the brain. Often before, working with needle and thread, sulphur and mercury, cloves and laudanum, he had found himself helpless in the face of trauma or disease. But not now!
The day they were to leave, they were invited to an audience with the Grand Master of Veda – an unusual honour, to say the least, as many of the sages themselves never got to see that worthy. They went with some trepidation; ushered into the Presence, Miphon immediately scanned the Grand Master's mind for evil intent. He was reassured by what he found.
'Greetings,' said the Grand Master.
His tone was grave and formal. That, together with the man's tranquility in repose, reminded Blackwood very much of the Melski. He remembered the day – it seemed very long ago – when he had last met with Hor-hor- hurulg-murg. Being reminded of the Melski brought back painful memories.
'Greetings,' said Miphon, using the High Speech.
Following custom, they then drank mint tea and talked at length about nothing in particular (falconry, the herbal teas of the Ravlish Lands, the comparative merits of the stave bow and the composite bow, rumours about the politics of the Chenameg Kingdom, the trade in sponges and keflo shells, the possible extent of the domination of dragons in the heartland of Argan), and then the Grand Master broached the subject which really interested him: 'Often people become legends in their own time,' said the Grand Master, 'but usually because of a trick of perspective which conjures a mortal man to the stature of a giant. I've met several living legends, but none have impressed me – till now.'
'Many songs praise us, up and down the Salt Road,' said Hearst, 'but a song sings for pleasure, not for truth.'
'One is always wary of rumour,' said the Grand Master, 'but these last ten days have seen miracles happening under my own roof. By miracle, of course, I mean an anomaly for which I have no explanation.'
'All magic is anomalous,' said Miphon. 'Wizards work by producing and controlling an anomaly in the natural order of things.' i know that,' said the Grand Master. 'As does the least of my students. However, I had thought I knew the limits of this power to… to generate anomaly.'
'So your horizons now widen,' said Miphon. indeed. We've always thought only limited power could be achieved by generating anomalies, so we've strived instead to exploit the natural lines of force which support the universe.'
'So I've heard,' said Miphon. 'But your mysteries are beyond me.' i won't try and explain then,' said the Grand Master. 'Suffice it to say that in our days of glory, before the destruction caused by the Long War, we had begun to control both the animate and the inanimate. The legends telling of sages mastering dragons are true. And as for the inamimate, investigation into the force-lines of the universe had shown us that even the air itself holds a potential for power. Before the Long War, we attempted to extract and control that potential: our efforts generated tremendous thunderstorms, killing many of the experimenters, but we thought our chances of ultimate success were good.'
'So?' said Miphon.
'So here we are, four thousand years after the Long War, only just beginning to recover the power of ages past. It occurs to me that an alliance between the two kinds of power, that to exploit anomalies and that to ex ploit the natural structure of the universe, would open up possibilities that we can only guess at.'
'I will give it my consideration,' said Miphon politely.
