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“Yes, we know you, old woman,” the voice said. “But whatever respect you might deserve was lost the moment you threw in your lot with these mortals. The world could have spun on, leaving you undisturbed in your solitary house—but you would not let well enough alone. Now you also are unhomed, and must go naked like a crab with no shell. You
too can die, old woman.”
Mutinous talk had never bothered Rachel much, in any case: she knew that life was but a long struggle against disorder, and that disorder was the inevitable winner.
Rachel had even wondered for a while if Pryrates, whom she knew had not liked Morgenes, might have burned down the doctor’s rooms.
“Many of the wise have died; there are few left,” she answered him. “And bravery is by no means the province only of soldiers and nobles. But since the circle of the wise is growing smaller with each such death, it has become more than ever important that we share knowledge among ourselves and with others.
We do not fight sorcery only, but also a war of position and placement.”
“One always makes more friends after one is dead.”
“Thank you for your news, Princess. It is none of it happy, but only a fool desires cheerful ignorance and I try not to be a fool. That is my heaviest burden.”
We are having a task of great fear and very great difficulty, Simon—it may even be that there is no possibility of succeeding—but it is not a task we can be fleeing.”
There is always something beyond even the worst of bad times. We may die, but the dying of some may mean living for others. That is not much to cling to, but it is a true thing in any case.”
“A kitchen boy! A kitchen boy who swords dragons and slays giants. Look at you! You are taller than I am, and Sludig is not small!”
When frost doth grow on Claves’ bell And Shadows walk upon the road When water blackens in the Well Three Swords must come again When Bukken from the Earth do creep And Hunën from the heights descend When Nightmare throttles peaceful Sleep Three Swords must come again To turn the stride of treading Fate To clear the fogging Mists of Time If Early shall resist Too Late Three Swords must come
Everyone thinks the Peaceful Ones have disappeared from the earth. But they haven’t! I am sure they have only gone deeper.”
the only duty he had left was to Miriamele, and to Prince Josua who had sent him after her. Indeed, he was grateful there was something left for him to do.
Don’t believe everything you hear, but don’t be too quick to cry ‘superstition,’
Using this black sword, perhaps, that you cannot lift half the time?”
Part of manhood, I am thinking, is to ponder one’s words before opening one’s mouth.”
“You show her respect. That is a good thing,” he said. “Too often it is that men think those who serve are doing it from inferiorness or weakness.” He chuckled. “Folk who have those beliefs should ride a mount like Qantaqa, who could eat them if she chose. They would then be learning humbleness.”
The Sithi are seeing more clearly than mortals—at least in some ways. Like any of their other gifts, a name is not to be discarded with easiness. Do you remember when you held the White Arrow above the river?”
Simon considered this. Who would ever have dreamed that Morgenes’ history lessons would be so important? Old cities and old stories were now part of his very life. It was strange how the future seemed tied inseparably to the past, so that both revolved through the present, like a great wheel . . .
“About the past is a good thing to know, Simon,” said the little man, “but it is deciding which things are important that separates a wise one from others. Still, although it is my guessing that the names of the Nine Cities will be little use, it is good to know of them. Once their names were known to every child in its cradle.
“Asu’a, Da’ai Chikiza, Enki-e-Shao’saye, and Tumet’ai you are knowing. Jhiná-T’senei lies drowned beneath the southern seas. The ruins of Kementari stand somewhere on Warinsten Island, birth-home of your king Prester John,
Also long unseen are Mezutu’a and Hikehikayo, both lost beneath Osten Ard’s northwestern mountains. The last, Nakkiga, now that my thought is upon it, you...
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Guthwulf felt a sudden spark of hope. “Do you suspect Pryrates of treachery, sire?”
distance.
“It is a Scrollbearer, and there are not many now alive. It might be Jarnauga, if he still lives. There is also Dinivan in Nabban.”
“If this is indeed God’s tabletop,” Sangfugol said with a weak smile, “my prince, He uses us for dice.
If you have a proud and headstrong woman, you would be better off not to judge your success by her obedience.
“. . . In truth, articles useful to The Art seem to fall into two broad categories,”
“those whose worth is bound in themselves, and those whose worth is bound in their derivation.
The famous arrows of Vindaomeyo are an example: carved from common wood and fletched with the feathers of ordinary birds, yet each one is a talisman of great worth.
“Other objects take their power from the stuff of their making. The great swords alluded to in Nisses’ lost book are examples here. All seem to derive their worth from their materials, although the crafting of each was a mighty task.
Sometimes obvious foolishness is the only answer to grave problems.”
“It is only that in these troubled hours things are seen more clearly. The lamps of cities blur many shadows that are plain beneath the moon.”
“‘When your teeth are gone,’ we Qanuc say, ‘learn to like mush.’”
“I have not met this Dragon-Rachel,” Binabik said as he stood up, brushing snow from his breeches, “but if she was given charge of you, she must have been a person of great patientness and kindness.”
I will take away those dreams that are bothering you. I will take away all your dreams. I can do that, you know.”
So men always would be, ape and angel mixed, their animal nature chafing at the restraints of civilization even as they reached for Heaven or for Hell.
“Lies, hatred, and greed,” the lector said softly. “They are familiar, age-old enemies. It matters not beneath whose banner they march.”
“In your pride and folly, you and the High King have brought a ponderous evil into a world which already groaned beneath a mighty burden of suffering. Our church—my church—will fight you for every soul, until the very Day of Weighing-Out dawns. I declare you excommunicate, and King Elias with you, and also banish from the arms of Mother Church any who follow you into darkness and error.”
Thus, we shall flee. Cowards always survive.”
“Lock-pick, spy, kidnapper—unusual talents for a monk.”
The people will wait to see what happens. Elias is not the first ruler to suffer Mother Church’s censure.”
You have no idea of the wisdom I have discovered, the powers I command.”
The diggers’ mewing cries rose in pitch, quickly becoming trills of fear as Qantaqa snapped necks and crushed skulls, throwing small bodies in the air with gleeful abandon.
Josua’s face was empty. “I am tired of talking. Kill me if you wish, but do not bore me.”
If we die tomorrow, we should live tonight.”
“Beloved Hakatri, my beautiful son,” the woman’s voice said, “how I miss you. I know you are beyond hearing or beyond replying, but I cannot help speaking as though you were before me. Too many times have the People danced the year’s end since you went into the West. Hearts grow cold, and the world grows colder still.”
Two Families left Venyha Do’sae, the land of our birth across the Great Sea.
your brother Ineluki raised his hand against your father, Iyu’unigato—your
