The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [62]
By the time he had finished his rounds of the hospice, he was overcome with such a deep weariness that he could not go one step farther, but sank down onto the flagstone floor and curled around the fiery glow of the stone. He felt as if all his strength, all his life, was seeping away.
Must the knot untie so soon?
As he waited for the final dissolution of his bond with the world, Telev heard the sound of laughter and the skipping steps of children running. He knew without seeing that all who had lain dying were now risen from their beds; that Evalla was dancing through the corridors, and Shaav was singing a triumphant ballad about her miraculous recovery; that Sathev was weeping at the feel of smooth skin on his face, and Avae had stopped coughing.
I seem to have borrowed a little luck from the stars.
If his life had blazed to its end that much sooner as a result of the talisman’s powers, it was still a fair trade. He was a healer, after all.
Eager hands reached out to pull him into the circle of celebration, but he slipped away before they could touch him.
CHAPTER 17
The yellow DiWahn sun had not risen above the horizon, but King Akhanatos was already awake when a court aide sidled into his bedchamber.
“Your Highness, a visitor to the palace desires a private audience with you.” Before Akhanatos could dismiss the request, the aide added, “He is unDiWahn.”
The king quickly nodded assent, and the servant scurried out of the room. The curtains of the doorway had ba rely stopped swinging from his passage when a stranger stepped back through the entrance. The heavy cowl that covered his head cast a shadow on his face, but Akhanatos recognized the stately bearing of Master Kierad@an.
The king rose from his couch to greet the robed emissary. Tradition reserved this gesture of respect for the landed nobility. As one of the stateless unDiWahn, this man owned no territories, but he was the leader of the Faithful and thus as powerful as any king.
“Well met, Akhanatos,” said the unDiWahn. With the arrogance typical of his fellows, he did not bow, nor did he address Akhanatos by any of his honorifics.
“You honor me with your presence.” The king was relieved that they were alone so none of his other subjects would witness his meek acceptance of this disrespect. He owed the order too great a financial debt to act on his displeasure now, but he noted the incident for retribution at some later date.
“I bring you word from Admiral Jakat.”
Upon hearing that name, Akhanatos felt his first tremor of suspicion. “What do you mean? My fleet admiral speaks directly to me.”
“No longer.” Kierad@an spread wide his arms as if to welcome someone into his embrace.
“Jakat’s true name is Daramad@an. He belongs to the Order of the Faithful and serves only the memory of our Iconian ancestors.”
“Do not play games with me, unDiWahn!”
Akhanatos was beyond hiding his alarm. “On this morning of all mornings, I have no patience for your mystic intrigues.”
“Ah, yes. Today you were to launch your offensive against the Kingdom of Roshamel.”
His impulse to deny the truth collided with his fear of having been discovered. Choked into silence, Akhanatos listened aghast as the unDiWahn outlined the assault plans that the king had delivered in person to Jakat three nights before.
“If you may remember,” continued Kierad@an, “your agreement with my order was that the ships would be used for peace, not war. The Iconian lore in our stewardship is preserved for the benefit of all of DiWahn, not the advancement of one of its petty fiefdoms. You have broken that covenant and betrayed our laws.”
“You want peace?” said Akhanatos, recovering his pride and his tongue. “Only the unDiWahn can afford that dream. I paid a heavy price for your holy knowledge, and I paid even more for the construction of the fleet itself.