‘I should have known,’ Sephrenia cut in. ‘The whole body of Delphaeic literature was created with the sole purpose of fostering a climate of anti-Styric bigotry.’
‘And what was the purpose of the eons of outright falsehood with which ye Styrics deceived the Tamuls?’ Cedon demanded. ‘Was the design not precisely the same? Did you not seek to instil the idea in the Tamul perception that the Delphae are sub-human?’
Sephrenia ignored the question. ‘Does your hatred of us run so deep that you would contaminate the understanding of an entire race?’
‘And how deeply doth thy hatred run, Sephrenia of Ylara? Art thou not even now attempting to poison the minds of these simple Elenes against us?’ The Anari sank into a cushioned chair, passing one weary hand across his face. ‘Our mutual hatreds have gone, methinks, too far to be healed. Better far that we live apart. And that doth bring us to the issue which hath brought us together. It is our wish to be apart from all others.’
‘Because you’re so much better than the rest of us?’ Sephrenia’s tone was thick with contempt.
‘Not better, Priestess, only different. We will leave that puffed-up sense of superiority to thy race.’
‘If you two want to renew a few eons-old hatreds, I think the rest of us would prefer not to sit through it,’ Vanion said coolly. ‘You both seem quite able to manage without our help.’
‘You don’t know what they’ve done, Vanion,’ Sephrenia said with a mute appeal in her eyes.
‘Frankly, dear, I’m not really interested in what happened several thousand years ago. If you want to chew old soup, please do it on your own time.’ Vanion looked at the ancient Delphae. ‘I believe you had some kind of an exchange in mind, Cedon. We’d love to sit around and watch you and Sephrenia slice each other into thin strips, but we’re a little pressed for time. Affairs of state, you understand.’
Even Sparhawk choked a bit on that.
‘Thou art very blunt, Lord Vanion,’ Cedon said in a coldly reproving tone.
‘I’m a soldier, revered Anari. A conversation made up of spiteful little insults bores me. If you and Sephrenia really want to fight, use axes.’
‘Have you had many occasions to deal with Elenes, revered Anari?’ Itagne asked in an unruffled manner.
‘Almost none.’
‘You might consider offering up a few prayers of thanksgiving for that. The Elenes have this distressing tendency to get right to the point. It’s dreadfully uncivilized, of course, but it does save time. I believe you wanted to address your proposal to Anakha. That’s him right there. I should probably warn you that Lord Vanion is the absolute soul of finesse when compared to Sparhawk, but Sparhawk is Anakha, so sooner or later you’re going to have to deal with him.’
‘Since we’ve all decided to be unpleasant this evening, I don’t think we’ll get very far,’ Sparhawk said. ‘Why don’t you tell me what you want, Cedon, and what you’re prepared to offer in return? I’ll think it over tonight, and then we can talk about it tomorrow, after we’ve all had time to get a firmer grip on our civility.’
‘A wise course, perhaps, Anakha,’ the old man agreed. ‘There is turmoil afoot in Tamuli.’
‘Yes. We’ve noticed that.’
‘The turmoil is not directed at the Empire, Anakha, but at thee. Thou wert lured here because thou hast the keys to Bhelliom. Thine enemies covet the jewel.’
‘We know that too. I don’t really need a preamble, Cedon. What’s the point of this?’
‘We will aid thee in thy struggle, and I do assure thee that without our aid, thou canst not prevail.’
‘You’ll have to convince me of that, but we can talk about it some other time. What do you want in return?’
‘We would have thee take up Bhelliom and seal us in this valley.’
‘That’s all?’
‘That is all we ask. Put us beyond the reach of all others, and put all others beyond our reach. All will be served by this – Elene and Tamul, Styric and Delphae. Use the infinite power of Bhelliom to set us apart from the rest of mankind so that we may continue our journey undisturbed.’
‘Journey?’
‘A figure of speech, Anakha. Our journey is measured in generations, not in leagues.’
‘An even exchange, then? You’ll help us to deal with our enemies if I close off this valley so that no one can ever get in – or out?’
‘An even exchange, Anakha.’
‘All right. I’ll think about it.’
‘She won’t talk to me about it, Sparhawk,’ Vanion sighed, ‘or about anything else, for that matter.’ The silvery-haired Preceptor and his friend were speaking privately in a small room just off the corridor that led to the cluster of tiny, cell-like rooms where they had spent the night.
‘You were just a bit blunt last night,’ Sparhawk told him.
‘Irrational behavior irritates me. I wish Aphrael were here. She could straighten Sephrenia out in fairly short order.’
Sparhawk slid lower in his chair. ‘I’m not so sure, Vanion. I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell you this, but I get the feeling that Aphrael wouldn’t interfere. Before she left, she told me that Sephrenia has to work this out for herself.’
‘Could Itagne shed any light on this antagonism between the Styrics and the Delphae?’
Sparhawk shook his head. ‘No more than he’s already told us. The whole business seems to date back to the time of the war with the Cyrgai. That was about ten thousand years ago, so history’s a little vague about what really happened. Evidently the Styrics and the Delphae were allies, and there seems to have been a betrayal of some sort.’
‘I gathered as much. Can Itagne make any guesses about who was betrayed?’
‘No. The Styrics have made themselves useful to the Tamuls over the centuries – in much the same way as they made themselves useful to the Church in Eosia. They’ve been busy insinuating their version of what happened into the Tamul perception of history. From what Cedon told us last night, I’d say that the Delphae have infiltrated the University of Matherion and inserted Delphaeic literature into the Tamul culture with precisely the same idea. The events of ten thousand years ago are going to be buried under a thick layer of myth and legend anyway, and with both the Styrics and the Delphae busily muddying up the waters, the real truth probably won’t ever come out into the open.’ He smiled faintly. ‘I’m not sure how significant it is, but the Styrics tried to contaminate the historians, while the Delphae spent their time trying to contaminate the poets. Interesting contrast, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Aphrael would know the truth.’
‘Probably, but she’s not talking. I know her well enough to know that her silence is deliberate. I don’t think she really wants us to know who was originally at fault. She doesn’t seem to want us to take sides for some reason, and that puts us in a very difficult position. I don’t think we’ll ever find out the truth behind this racial antagonism – not that it really matters. I doubt if Sephrenia or the Anari themselves even know. They’ve both had the benefit of about four hundred generations of hysterical propaganda to set their prejudices in stone. Our problem is that the Delphae can probably hold us here indefinitely. If we try to ride away, they’ll just turn us around and lead us right back, so eventually we’re going to have to negotiate with them. We all love Sephrenia, though, so if we do negotiate with the Delphae, she’ll take fire spontaneously.’
‘Yes, I noticed that. What am I going to do, Sparhawk? I bleed when she so much as pricks her finger.’
‘Lie to her,’ Sparhawk shrugged.
‘Sparhawk!’
‘You don’t have to be too obvious about it, but lean your neutrality slightly in her direction. I’m the one in charge of Bhelliom, so Cedon’s going to have to deal with me. Technically, you’re secondary here – sorry, Vanion, but it’s true. Cedon’s going to be negotiating with me, not you. Glare at me now and then and raise objections. Sephrenia’s behaving irrationally, so the others, like good, logical Elenes, are going to oppose her. Let’s not isolate her entirely. You’re the most important person in her life, and if you seem to be turning against her as well, you’ll break her heart.’ He smiled a bit wryly. ‘I’d take it as a personal favor, though, if you didn’t let her turn me into a toad about midway through the negotiations.’
‘Let’s go back a step or two, revered Anari,’ Sparhawk suggested when they had gathered again in the large, sunken room. ‘I need to know exactly what I’m getting involved in here. I’m not going to do anything to injure the Styrics. They’re sometimes a prickly and difficult people, but we’ve grown fond of them for some reason.’ He smiled at Sephrenia, hoping to soften her displeasure. ‘You mentioned a journey of some sort. I get the feeling that this journey might be central to our discussion. Where are you going?’
‘We are changing, Anakha. When the world turned against us, we appealed to Edaemus to protect us.’
‘Your God?’
The Anari nodded. ‘We were a child-like, unsophisticated people before the war with the Cyrgai, and Edaemus lived among us, sharing our simple joys and transient sorrows. Of all the people of this world, we were the least suited for war.’ The old man looked at Sephrenia. ‘I will not offend thy teacher by speaking the truth about what led to our being made outcast.’
‘The truth is well known,’ Sephrenia said stiffly.
‘Yes, it is, but thy truth is quite different from ours. You believe that one thing happened, and we believe that something else took place. But that, Sephrenia of Ylara, is between us, and it doth not concern these Elenes. In truth, Lady, neither Styric nor Delphae were very admirable in that unfortunate affair. For whatever cause, Anakha, the Delphae were cast out, and the hands of all men were turned against us. We appealed, as I said, to Edaemus, and he responded by laying a curse on us.’
‘This Edaemus of yours has a peculiar way of showing his affection,’ Ulath noted.
‘It was the only way to protect us, Sir Knight. We are not war-like and have no skill with the weapons with which other men kill each other, and so Edaemus cursed us to make our merest touch a weapon. Other men soon found that the touch of our hands meant death.’
‘Then why am I still here, Cedon?’ Kalten asked. ‘I’ve been helping Xanetia on and off her horse for several days now, and her touch hasn’t killed me.’
‘We have learned to control the curse, Sir Kalten. That was a part of the plan of Edaemus when he raised his hand against our lake.’
‘The lake?’
The Anari nodded. ‘Edaemus could not bear the thought of laying his curse upon us directly, and so he cursed the waters of the lake instead. The lake is our only source of water, and we therefore must drink of it. When first we came to this valley, the mind of Edaemus was as child-like as ours. In the spirit of play gave he the waters of the lake that peculiar essence which doth illuminate us. We drink of the lake, and its waters infuse our bodies. Out of love did Edaemus make us appear like Gods. It was a harmless entertainment, and we soon forgave him for so altering us. When the world turned against us, however, did Edaemus curse the lake, and its infusing waters, changed by that curse, changed us as well. The touch of death which doth hold our enemies at bay is but a small part of the design of our God, however. Circumstance hath set us apart from this world, and it is the intent of Edaemus to set us yet further apart. We are changing, my friends. Our bodies are different, and our minds and spirits as well. We are no longer as ye – nor as once we were. With each generation this inexorable change progresses. Xanetia, dear, gentle Xanetia, so far surpasseth me that I cannot even begin to comprehend the extent of her thought. In time, methinks, she will equal – or even surpass – the very Gods themselves.’
‘And then you will supplant us,’ Sephrenia accused. ‘Even as the Trolls supplanted the Dawn-men and as we are supplanting the Trolls, so will you despised Delphae become our masters, putting aside our Gods and kenneling us like dogs in uninhabitable wastelands while you enjoy the fruits of the earth. We Styrics have endured such treatment at the hands of the Elenes for eons, and we have learned much. You will not so easily subdue us, Cedon, and we will not worship you nor fawn at your feet like whipped dogs.’
‘How may we supplant thee and seize thy lands, Sephrenia of Ylara? We are bound to our lake and may not long be away from its waters. Thy submission, moreover, would have no meaning for us, for we will not be here. We journey toward the light, and we will become light. My Xanetia, who will be Anarae, could join with the light even now, but those of us who have not yet reached her perfection hold her back. When we are dead there will no longer by any reason for her to remain, and she will lead the Delphae out to dwell among the stars with Edaemus, who hath gone before us to prepare our home.’
‘Where you will be Gods,’ Sephrenia added with a spiteful sneer.
‘That is a word without meaning, Sephrenia of Ylara,’ Xanetia said quietly. ‘All of us, Gods and men, move toward the same goal. Edaemus hath gone before us, and we will go before thee. We will await thy coming with love, and we will even forgive thee for the wrong that thou hast done us.’
‘Forgive me?’ Sephrenia exploded. ‘I spurn thy condescending forgiveness!’ She had lapsed, probably without realizing it, into archaic Styric. ‘I will never forgive thee nor accept any of thy forgiveness.’
‘But thou wilt, Sephrenia,’ the glowing woman disagreed. ‘Even now is thine heart doubtful within thy breast. Thou art of two minds, gentle Sephrenia. I know thee well, and I know that this hatred of thine, like winter frost, doth lurk in the dark, shaded places of thy soul. I do assure thee that it will melt in the warm sun of thy loving nature – even as mine own hatred doth even now begin its painful thaw. But make no mistake, Sephrenia of Ylara, I do hate Styrics even as thou hatest the Delphae. An hundred centuries of enmity is not lightly cast aside. I do hate the perfidious Styrics, but I do not hate thee. I know thine heart, dear sister, for it is even as mine own. In time will we both put aside this childish hatred and live together in peace.’
‘Never!’
‘Never, dear sister, is a long, long time.’
‘I think we’re getting a little far afield here,’ Sparhawk cut in. ‘This sealing up of the valley isn’t intended to be eternal, I gather?’