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  "Is there trouble between our people and Belyn's?"

  "I have told you all I know."

  "Oh, when did you ever part with more than the least little kernel from your vast store?"

  The seer smiled wickedly. "A little uncertainty keeps everyone awake."

  They had reached the entrance to the great hall. Two palace ushers stood before the huge polished cedar doors. Upon Annubi's approach one of them snapped to attention and pulled on a braided cord; the door swung open soundlessly. The seer turned and said, "Enough kingcraft for today. Go back to your dreams, Charis." He entered the great hall. The door closed and Charis was left outside to wonder what was going on within.

  She gazed at the doors for a few moments, then moved off. "Annubi treats me like a child," she muttered to herself. "Everyone does. Nobody takes me seriously. Nobody ever tells me anything. Ah, but I know a way to find out." She turned and looked back at the closed doors and saw a challenge to her ingenuity. "Should I?" she wondered. By the time she had reached the end of the corridor, she had already made up her mind.

  Flitting like a lithe shadow along the darkened mazework of lower rooms and corridors Charis came at last to a narrow red door. Without hesitation she put her hands on the door and pushed it open. The room within was lit by a single lamp hanging from a chain by the door. With practiced movements she drew a beeswax taper from a wicker basket, lit it from the flickering lamp, and made her way to the round table in the center of the room.

  On the table, resting on a base of chased gold, sat the Lia Fail, a stone of murky crystal the size and shape of an ostrich egg. Charis placed the taper in a holder and stretched her hands to the egg, peering into its depths. The veins in the stone were dark, like blue smoke, and turgid, like the silted waters of the River Coran; it was, Annubi liked to say, the smoke of possibility and the fertile thickness of opportunity.

  She composed her thoughts as she had been taught, closed her eyes, and recited the incantation for seeing—once, and then twice more. Gradually she felt the stone warm beneath her hands. She opened her eyes to see that the smoke-tinted veins had thinned, becoming transparent wisps that seemed to writhe and dance like a sea mist fading in the sun's first rays.

  "Seeing stone," she addressed it, "I seek knowledge of what is to be. My spirit is restless. Show me something…" She paused, thinking how best to phrase the request. "Yes, show me something of traveling."

  She remembered Annubi's injunction to always be discreetly imprecise when addressing the oracular stone. "The seer comes to the stone to be instructed, not to dictate," Annubi often said. "Therefore, out of respect for fate's handmaidens one makes vague the request so as not to seem presumptuous. Think! What is opportunity but possibility made flesh? Would you shun a bouquet because you sought a single flower? It is always better to allow the stone to be generous."

  The mists within the crystal egg swirled and coalesced into indistinct patterns. Charis studied the shadows, her brow puckered in a frown of concentration, and in a moment defined the shapes: a procession of horses and men making way through a long forested avenue; a royal procession it seemed, since it was led by three chariots, each pulled by double matched teams of black horses, each with a black plume on its head.

  Hmph! thought Charis. A tedious parade. Not what I had in mind at all. I should have asked about the council.

  The shadowy shapes dissolved then and Charis thought the stone would go dim. Instead, the shapes reformed and she saw a road, and on the road, his sturdy legs stumping rhythmically, a man unlike any she had ever seen before: a man of frightful mien whose body was covered with fur. His craggy, beard-covered face was blistered from the sun and his filthy hair stood out wildly from his head. This terrible man carried a long staff, swinging it as he went, yellow fire blazing from its top.

  This vision faded in its turn and the stone went cold once more. Charis retrieved her candle and carried it back to the door, blew it out, and replaced it in the basket. She then pulled the enameled door open, stepped out into the passageway, and slipped quickly away.

  * * *

  King Avallach greeted his brother informally while seneschals offered bowls of scented water and clean linen to wash away the fatigue of travel. Wine was served and the two took their cups and strolled together in one of the small gardens adjacent to the hall, leaving their envoys to exchange court gossip.

  "You were expected two days ago," said Avallach, sipping his wine.

  "I would have come sooner, but I wanted to be certain."

  "Are you?"

  "I am."

  Avallach frowned and gazed at his younger brother. The two were almost mirror images of one another: both dark men who wore their black hair and beards long, oiled, and curled in the traditional way. White teeth shone when they smiled, and their dark eyes flashed with quick wit and, when roused, quicker anger. "Then it has begun."

  "But we may yet cut him off," Belyn said. "If we brought charges against him in council, before all the others, the High King would have to take action."

  Avallach considered this and replied, "Forcing the High King to take action against one of his monarchs could bring the world crashing down around our ears."

  "Or save it."

  "Very well." Avallach turned suddenly and started back to the hall. "Let us hear what your men have to say to us."

  They rejoined the others in the hall. Avallach saw that Annubi had arrived and motioned him over. As the seer came forward the king addressed one of Belyn's delegation, "My brother tells me you have brought evidence with you. Let me see it."

  The man glanced at the seer and hesitated.

  "Trust Annubi before you trust me," Avallach told him. "If my advisor is not to hear, then I am deaf as well." Annubi bowed, fingertips of both hands touching as he made the sign of the sun with his hands. "Besides," added Avallach, "I have never yet discovered a way to keep a secret from this man."

  "Annubi's name is honored in Belyn's palace as well," said the man, inclining his head toward the seer. "I intended no offense."

  "No offense was taken," replied Annubi equably. "Please continue."

  "I am King Belyn's yardmaster. Five days ago I apprehended two Ogygians in the royal shipyards at Taphros," the man said. "The two had posed as representatives of an Azilian trade consortium to gain entrance. The shipyards are not guarded, as you know, but my king has ordered me to watch things very closely. I became suspicious when I saw these supposed buyers lingering near the shipwright's hut. It appeared they were waiting for a chance to gain entrance."

  "No doubt," observed Avallach.

  The yardmaster nodded. "When questioned they pretended ignorance."

  "Of course."

  "I asked to search their persons and they became abusive. I called six of my carpenters and we held them until the palace guard could be summoned." Having finished his story the man stepped back and another man took his place.

  "This is the captain of my palace guard," said Belyn by way of introduction.

  "I am," affirmed the burly man. "Eight of my best and I went down to the shipyard upon receiving the summons. We found the two spies just as the yardmaster has said. With much protesting, they were taken back to the palace and searched. Documents were found in their clothing which indicated a thorough spying foray. It is my opinion that they were attempting to assess the strength of Belyn's ships and the facility of his yards."

  Avallach's dark eyes hardened.

  "There is more." Belyn motioned to one of the other men, who opened a pouch at his belt and drew out a parchment packet and passed it to Avallach. "I believe," said the man, "you will want to see these for yourself."

  Avallach took the packet and opened it, scanned it quickly, and passed it to Annubi. The seer glanced at the document and returned it. "It would appear Nestor is leaving no stone unturned," Annubi said.

  "Indeed! Counting ships and granaries—is he mad?"

  "Assessing an enemy's strength before striking a blow is wisdom itsel
f," replied Belyn's captain dryly.

  "He is insane!" snapped Avallach. "Breaking a peace that has lasted over two thousand years.…"

  Annubi lifted his hands, saying, "New forces are loosed upon the world: war is on the wind; beastmen migrate from land to land; order gives way to chaos. All the universe is in ferment." He stopped abruptly and shrugged, adding, "Nestor is a creature of his time."

  "He is a creature that must be stopped." Avallach pursed his lips. "To stop him we must have the support of others as well."

  "We think alike, brother," observed Belyn. "I sail for Corania as soon as I am finished here."

  "No," said Avallach. "I will take care of it. If it is true that Nestor's spies are abroad, you must not be seen traveling from Kellios to Ys. I will talk to Seithenin myself."

  "Better still," Belyn replied.

  "Now then," said Avallach, raising his voice to the others, "let us put this distasteful business behind us. There is a bull dance today—you are my guests."

  The men bowed and raised their hands in the sign of the sun. Avallach signaled for a steward, who appeared promptly. "These men are staying with us," Avallach told him. "Prepare rooms for them and see to it that they have a change of clothes and anything else they require."

  The men followed the servant out. "Is Elaine with you?" asked Avallach as the others left the great hall.

  "When she learned I was coming, she would not be left behind. She was asleep when we arrived. I left word that I would fetch her later."

  "Go and bring the lady. Do not leave her waiting even for a moment or I will be made to answer for your thoughtlessness."

  "It would not be the first time," Belyn laughed. The laughter died on his lips and he stood listening to the echo in the great hall. "What an empty sound…"

  "Go and bring Elaine," Avallach told him. "We will fill the hall tonight and it will ring with laughter."

  When Belyn had gone, Avallach turned to Annubi who stood looking on. "What we have long dreaded has come to pass; we must prepare to fight Nestor in Council, and we must win. If we fail, it can only end in death."

  "Indeed! Death is the only certainty when kings fall out," replied Annubi.

  * * *

  Charis' curiosity was far from satisfied by what she had glimpsed in the Lia Fail. But since it was a stolen look she could not go to Annubi to inquire of him what the images meant. At any rate, she had not seen herself among the procession of travelers and considered that this confirmed her worst suspicions: when the time came to travel to the Great Council, she would be left behind.

  This was not a situation she could endure, at least not sitting still. The youngest of Avallach's five children, Charis had often been forced to the subtleties of diplomacy where one of her brothers might have relied on strength. What she needed now was an ally, someone who wielded the power she lacked and who would take her side. She chose her mother.

  It was to the queen's library that Charis went in search of her mother, whom she found standing at the balcony with a squarish object in her hands. The queen, turning as her daughter entered, smiled and held out a hand. "Come here, I want to show you something."

  "What is that?" she asked. "A brick?"

  Briseis laughed and held the object out to Charis. "Not a brick," she explained. "A book."

  Charis came close and gazed at the thing—the wrong shape for a book. It was flat and thick, not neatly rolled in a tight vellum scroll. It looked awkward and cumbersome.

  "Are you certain?" asked Charis, glancing around the library with its innumerable scrolls tucked into the honeycombed nooks of its shelves. The huge room was polished wood and stone; light scattered from its many cool surfaces. There were large myrtlewood tables and tall-backed chairs with blue silk cushions placed around the room for convenience. At the far end hung a large tapestry depicting Mount Atlas, its crown lost in white plumes of cloud. She returned her gaze to the strange object her mother held in front of her. "It looks more like a brick to me."

  "A new kind of book. Here…" Her mother placed the volume in her hands. "Open it."

  "Open it?"

  "Let me show you." Her mother bent and turned back the leather cover to reveal a dazzling picture of a green and gold Atlantis afloat in a sea of lapis lazuli. Sunlight touched the page and set the colors aflame.

  "It is beautiful!" exclaimed Charis, running her fingers across the page. "Where did you get it?"

  "Traders brought it from across Oceanus. It is said the great libraries of the East have begun making books like this. I directed the royal artisans to paint the picture, but the writing is in the Eastern script. There is only one other book like this in all nine kingdoms and it belongs to the High King."

  Briseis closed the book and looked fondly at her daughter, lifting a hand to stroke the girl's hair.

  "Is something wrong, Mother?"

  "Nothing to concern you, dear one," she said, but a shadow lingered in her eyes.

  Charis looked carefully at her mother. She was long-limbed and slim, with flawless white skin and hair of honey-gold. Her clear eyes were the color of mountain pools and hinted at icy depths. Although she rarely wore the circlet, there was no mistaking her royal bearing; nobility, fine and pure as light itself, radiated from her presence. Charis considered her mother the most beautiful woman in all the world, and she was not alone in this opinion. "You came to find me," said Briseis. "What did you want?"

  "Someone has arrived," Charis replied. "I saw the ships come in. They are from Uncle Belyn."

  "Belyn here? That is news." She turned and looked out across the harbor and Charis noticed the shadow was back.

  "Hmph," Charis snorted. "That is as much as you will get from me. There was a secret meeting and Annubi mentioned something about the Great Council. However, I know I will not get to go." She plopped down in a nearby chair. "Oh, Mother, sometimes I just want to leave this place—leave it forever!"

  The queen turned sad eyes on her daughter. "Charis, my restless one—do not long for leaving. There will be enough of leaving in your life, I fear."

  "I have never been to a Great Council before. Could we go? Please?"

  Briseis brightened. "Perhaps Elaine is here as well."

  Charis saw an advantage and pressed her demand. "Could we? I never get to go anywhere. Everyone else—Kian and Maildun and Eoinn and—"

  "Shush, I have not said no. If Elaine and Belyn have come I must see to their arrangements."

  Charis raised her eyebrows hopefully. "Then yes?"

  "It is your father's decision." Charis' face wrinkled in sharp disappointment. "But," her mother continued, "I think he may be persuaded."

  Charis jumped up. "Persuade him, Mother. You will, I know you will."

  "I will do my best. Now, let us go see if your aunt and uncle will accompany us to the arena."

  * * *

  "Oh, I feel like a cow. I look like one, too. And I have never been so seasick in my life. Hello, Briseis. Hello, Charis. It is good to see you both. I cannot think why I insisted on coming, I have had nothing but misery since I stepped onto that wretched ship. But it is hot out here—or is it just me?"

  "Hello, Aunt Elaine. Have you not had that baby yet?" Charis laughed and offered her hand as her aunt stepped from the carriage.

  "Wretched girl. Would I be standing here panting like a pig if I had had the baby? Oh, and it is not to be born for weeks!" Elaine spread graceful hands over her swelling stomach. Despite her protestations she appeared in glowing good health and seemed thoroughly pleased with herself.

  "Elaine, you are as beautiful as ever," said Briseis, embracing her. "And it is hot standing here in the sun. Come inside. I have had a cool drink prepared."

  "Will you come to the bull dance with us?" asked Charis. They stepped into the shade of the portico and proceeded along the columned passage to the palace, palm fronds rustling as they passed.

  "Would I miss it? There is nothing I love better. Who is dancing?"

  "A team from Pose
idonis, from the High Temple itself— the Crescents, I think. Guistan says that one of them does a double."

  "Enough, Charis," her mother chided. "Elaine has come a long way and is tired. Give her a moment to rest before you have us all dashing out to the arena." She turned to Elaine. "The baby is not to be born for several weeks, you say?"

  "The stars, Briseis, the stars! The Magi tell me the stars must be properly aligned. 'Highness,'" she said, adopting a solemn, sanctimonious tone, "'he will be a king one day and therefore must have an auspicious birth sign.' Idiot men."

  "You are certain the child will be male?"

  "Quite certain. In my family at least, the Magi have not been wrong in five generations. There is no doubt it will be a boy."

  "Belyn must be pleased."

  "Ecstatic, and rightly so—considering I am doing all the work and he receives the glory."

  "Have you chosen a name?" wondered Charis.

  "I have consulted the Magi, who have searched the Royal Registry and tell me that there was a man in my family named Peredur; he was a wise and just ruler of great renown at one time or another. I think I will name the baby Peredur."

  "A strange name," remarked Charis, "but I like it."

  Briseis gave her daughter a harsh look, which Charis ignored. "Charis, go and find your brothers. Tell them to get ready. We will be leaving for the arena soon and I want to arrive before the crowds." Charis frowned and opened her mouth to protest. "Go on. I wish to speak to Elaine alone for a moment."

  "I am going."

  "Sit with me at the ring," Elaine called after her. "I will save a place right next to me."

  The two women watched her run off. Briseis sighed. "Sometimes I think I will never make a lady of her. She is so headstrong."

  "No more so than her father?"

  Briseis smiled and shook her head. "No, no more than Avallach."

  TWO

  GWYDDNO GARANHIR STOOD AT THE GATE OF HIS HILLTOP caer and looked out across Aberdyvi, the sea estuary of the River Dyvi, at the seabirds circling and chattering in the blue, windswept sky, diving for fish trapped on the mud flats by the receding sea. His eyes scanned the horizon for danger: the square, blood-red sails of Irish raiding ships.