The Diamond Warriors

The Diamond Warriors

Book Four of the Ea Cycle

DAVID ZINDELL

COPYRIGHT

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

HarperVoyager An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperVoyager 2007

Copyright © David Zindell 2007

David Zindell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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Source ISBN: 9780006486237

Ebook Edition © AUGUST 2016 ISBN 9780007386536

Version: 2016-09-01

CONTENTS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Map

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

Keep Reading

Appendices

Heraldry

The Gelstei

The Greater Gelstei

The Lesser Gelstei

Books of the Saganom Elu

The Ages of Ea

The Months of the Year

About the Author

By David Zindell

About the Publisher

MAP

1

On clear summer nights, I have stood on desert sands in awe of the stars. From these countless radiant points, my ancestors believed, comes all that is good, beautiful and true. The Lightstone had its source there. The stars make light itself and that secret, irresistible force which warms angels’ hearts and illuminates all things. What man could ever hold this most brilliant of fires? Only one who can endure burning. And one who wills with all his heart that the stars must go on shining forever and can never die.

They shone upon my grandfather and upon Elahad and the ancient Valari who came to earth from other worlds; and still they shone upon my world, even though the Great Red Dragon named Morjin threatened to make war upon all Ea’s lands and call down that black and starless night without end. In the spring of the fourth year since I had set out to seek the Lightstone and defy Morjin, the stars guided me home. Late into evenings filled with the calls of meadowlarks and the fragrance of new flowers, my companions and I ventured across savage lands, setting our course by Aras and Solaru and the heavens’ other bright lights. And at dawn we journeyed toward the Great Eastern Sun: the Morning Star for which my grandfather had named me Valashu. This fiery orb still rose each day over the mountains of Mesh and the dwellings of my people. Where Morjin called my brothers and sisters demons from hell that must be nailed up on crosses or burned alive, I knew them as noble warriors of the sword – and spirit – who remained true Valari. It was upon me to return to them in order to seize my fate and become their king.

On the first day of Soldru, on a warm afternoon, my seven companions and I rode through the Valley of the Swans below my family’s ancient, burned-out castle. Our way took us through a thick and ancient wood. Here grew tall oaks and elms through which I had run as a child. Wild grape and honeysuckle twined themselves around the trunks of these great trees, while ferns blanketed the forest floor. Many flowers brightened this expanse of green and sweetened the air: bluets and trillium and goldthread, whose white sepals gleamed like stars. Each growing thing, it seemed, greeted me like an old friend to which I had long ago pledged my life. So it was with the warblers and the sparrowhawks calling out from branch or sky, and the rabbits, voles and badgers who made their abodes beneath them. Our procession through the trees startled a stag feeding on the bracken; just before he sprang away, his large, dark eye fixed on my eyes and called to me as if we were brothers. He did not, I sensed, worry that his forest home might soon be destroyed and the whole world with it This great being cared nothing for the struggles and aspirations of men, and knew only that it was good to be alive.

‘Ah, another deer.’ Next to me, from on top of a big, brown horse, my friend Maram watched the stag bounding off through the trees. He was himself a big man, with a thick beard and soft brown eyes which easily filled with worry. ‘These woods are still full of deer.’

We rode along a few paces, and our horses’ hooves cracked through old leaves and twigs.

‘And where there are deer,’ he went on, ‘there are certainly bears. These huge, brown bears of yours whose like I have seen in no other land.’

I turned in my saddle to look after Daj and Estrella riding behind us. Daj’s gaze met mine, and his black curls fell over his face as he inclined his head to me. Although he couldn’t have been much older than twelve years, he held himself straight and proud as if he were a knight who knew no fear. Already he had slain more men than had most knights – and sent on as well an evil creature more powerful than any man. Estrella, of an age with him, guided her pony along in silence. Although she could make no words with her throat and lips, her dark eyes and lively face seemed almost infinitely expressive and full of light. Behind her rode Master Juwain and Liljana, who might have been the children’s grandparents. They wore the same hooded traveling cloaks that we all did, even Atara, who brought up the rear. This beautiful woman – my betrothed – hated the itch of woven wool against her sunburned skin, for she had lived too long on the plains of the Wendrush with the savage Sarni warriors, who usually wore silks or beaded skins, when they wore garments at all. She was herself a warrior, of that strange society of women known as the Manslayers. As she pressed her knees against the flanks of her great roan mare, Fire, she gripped one of the great, double-curved Sarni bows. A white blindfold bound her thick blond hair and covered the hollows beneath her brows. It was a great miracle of her life that although Morjin had taken her eyes, sometimes by the virtue of her second sight she could still see. If a bear charged out of the bracken at us, I thought, she could put an arrow straight through its heart.

‘Bears,’ I said, turning back toward Maram, ‘rarely hunt deer – only if they come upon one by chance.’

‘Like that bear that came upon you?’ He pointed at my face and added, ‘The one who gave you that?’

I pressed my finger against the scar cut into my forehead. This mark, shaped like a lightning bolt, had actually been present from my birth, when the midwife’s tongs had ripped my skin. The bear, who had nearly killed my brother Asaru and me during one of our forays into the woods, had only deepened it.

‘I doubt if it is my fate,’ I said, smiling at him, ‘to see us attacked here by a bear.’

‘Ah, fate,’ Maram said, shaking his great, bushy head. ‘You speak of it too much these days, and contemplate it too deeply, I think.’

‘Perhaps that is true. But we’ve avoided the worst that might have befallen us and come to our journey’s end without mishap.’

‘Almost to our journey’s end,’ he said, waving his huge hand at the trees ahead of us. ‘If you’re right, we’ve still five miles of these gloomy woods to endure. If you hadn’t insisted on this longcut, we might already have been sitting at Lord Harsha’s table with Behira, putting down some roasted beef and a few pints of your good Meshian beer.’

I cast him a long, burning look. He knew well enough the reasons for our detour through the woods, and had in fact agreed upon them. But now that he could almost smell his dinner and taste his dessert, it seemed that he had conveniently forgotten them.

‘All right, all right,’ he said, turning his head away from me to gaze off through the trees. ‘Why indeed take any chances when we have come so far without mishap? It’s just that now I’m ready to enjoy the comforts of Lord Harsha’s house, it seems that the farmland hereabouts – and the rest of your kingdom – surely holds fewer perils than do these woods.’

‘It is not my kingdom,’ I reminded him. ‘Not yet. And whoever wins Mesh’s throne, you may be sure that this wood will remain near the heart of his realm.’

Far out on the grasslands of the Wendrush, as we had taken meat and fire with the chieftain of the Niuriu, Vishakan, we had heard disquieting rumors that Mesh’s greatest lords were contending with each other to gain my father’s vacant throne. War, it seemed, threatened. Vishakan himself told me that Morjin had stolen the souls of some of my own countrymen – and had turned the hearts of others with threats of crucifixion and promises of glory and everlasting life for anyone who followed him. The Lord of Lies had pledged a thousand-weight of gold to any man who brought him my head. So it was that my companions and I had entered Mesh in secret. Twenty-two kel keeps, great fortresses of iron and stone, encircled the whole of the kingdom and guarded the passes through the mountains. But I knew unexplored ways around three of them – and through the country of the Sawash River and past Arakel, Telshar and the other great peaks of the Central Range. And, of course, through the fields and forests of the Valley of the Swans. So it was that we had come nearly all the way to Lord Harsha’s little stone chalet without stopping at an inn or a farmhouse.

‘The heart of your realm,’ Maram said to me, ‘surely lies with the hearts of those who know you. There can’t be many in this district who will fail to acclaim you when the time comes.’

‘No, perhaps not many.’

‘And there can’t be any who have gone over to the Red Dragon, despite what that barbarian chieftain said. Surely it will be safe to show ourselves here. After all, we don’t have to give out our names.’

I only smiled at this. Even in the best of times, Mesh saw few strangers from other lands. Maram and my other friends would stand out here like rubies and sapphires in a tapestry woven of diamonds. The Valari are a tall people, with long, straight black hair, angular faces like the planes of cut stone, dark ivory skin and bright black eyes. None of us looked anything like that – none of us, of course, except myself.

‘As soon as we show ourselves,’ I told Maram, ‘the word will spread that Valashu Elahad and his companions have returned to Mesh. We should hear what Lord Harsha advises before that moment comes.’

We rode on for a while, into a small clearing, and then Estrella, who was good at finding things, espied a bush near its edge bearing ripe, red raspberries. She nudged her horse over to it, then dismounted. Her joyful smile seemed an invitation for all of us to join her in a midafternoon refreshment. And so the rest of us dismounted as well, and began plucking the soft, little fruits.

‘These,’ Maram said, as he filled his mouth with a handful of raspberries, ‘would make a good meal for any bear.’

‘And you,’ I said, poking his big belly with a smile, ‘would make a better one.’

Master Juwain, a short man with a large head as bald as a walnut, stepped over to me. His face, I thought, with his large gray eyes, had always seemed as luminous as the moonlit sea. He looked at me deeply, then said, ‘We are close to the place that the bear attacked you, aren’t we?’

‘Yes, close,’ I said, staring off through the elms. Then I turned back to smile at him. ‘But you aren’t afraid of bears, too, are you, sir?’

‘I’m afraid of you, Valashu Elahad. That is, afraid for you.’ He pointed a gnarly finger at me as he fixed me with a deep, knowing look. ‘Most of us flee from that which torments us, but you must always seek out the thing you most dread and go poking it with a stick.’

I only laughed at this as I reached back to grip the hilt of my sword, slung over my shoulder. I said, ‘But, sir, I have no stick – only this blade. And I’m sure I won’t have to use it today against any bear.’

Daj, munching on some raspberries, returned my smile in confidence that I had spoken the truth, and so did Estrella. They pressed in close to me, not to take comfort from the protection of my sword – not just – but because such nearness gladdened all our hearts. Then I noticed Atara standing next to the raspberry bush as she held her bow in one hand and her scryer’s sphere of clear, white gelstei with her other. The sun’s light poured down upon her in a bright shower. Her beautiful face, as perfectly proportioned as the sculptures of the angels, turned toward me. She smiled at me, too: but coldly, as if she had seen some terrible future that she did not wish to share. All she said to me was: ‘The only bear you’ll find here today is the one that nearly killed you years ago. It still lives, doesn’t it?’

Yes, I thought, as my fingers tightened around the hilt of my sword, the bear called out from somewhere inside me – and in some strange way, from somewhere in these woods. Even as Asaru, who had saved me from the bear, still lived on as well. My mother and grandmother, and all my murdered family, seemed to take on life anew in the stems of the wildflowers and in the breath of the leaves of the new maple trees. My father, I knew, would always stand beside me like the mountains of the land that I loved.

Liljana, who could not smile, came up to me and grasped my hand. Her iron-gray hair framed her pretty face, which too often fell stern and forbidding. But despite her relentless and domineering manner, she could be the kindest of women, and the wisest, too. She said to me, ‘You’ve always been drawn to these woods, haven’t you?’

Her calm, hazel eyes filled with understanding. She didn’t need to call on the power of her blue gelstei to read my mind – or, rather, to know what grieved my heart.

Across the clearing, through the shadowed gloom of the elms, I heard a tanager trilling out notes that sounded much like a robin’s song: shureet, shuroo. I looked for this bird, but I could not see it. It seemed that this wood, above all other places, held answers to the secret of my past and the puzzle of my future. There dwelled a power here that called to me like a song of fire racing along my blood.

‘Drawn, yes,’ I said to Liljana. I felt a nameless dread working at my insides like ice water. ‘And repelled, too.’

‘Well,’ Maram said, wiping a bit of raspberry juice from his lip, ‘I wish you had been repelled a little more that day Salmelu shot you with his filthy arrow. But who would have thought a Valari prince would go over to the Dragon and hire out as one of his assassins? And use the filthiest of poisons? Does it still burn you, my friend?’

I pressed my hand to my side in remembrance of that day when Salmelu’s poisoned arrow had come streaking out of the trees – not so very far from here. The scratch that it had left in my skin had long since healed, but I would forever feel the kirax poison like a heated iron sizzling deep into every fiber of my body.

‘Yes, it burns,’ I said to him.

‘Well, then perhaps we should take greater care here. If a prince of Ishka can turn traitor, then I suppose a Meshian can – though I’ve always thought your countrymen preserved the soul of the Valari, so to speak.’

I suddenly recalled Lansar Raasharu, my father’s greatest lord, who had lost his soul and his very humanity to Morjin through a hate and a fear that I knew only too well. And I said, ‘No one is immune from evil.’

‘No one except you.’

I felt my throat tighten in anger as I said, ‘Myself least of all, Maram. You should know that.’

‘I know what I saw during this last journey of ours. Who else but you could have led us out of the Skadarak?’

I did not need to close my eyes to feel the blighted forest called the Skadarak pulling me down into an icy cold blackness that had no bottom. Sometimes, when I looked into the black centers of Maram’s eyes – or my own – I felt myself hurtling down through empty space again.

‘Do not,’ I told him, ‘speak of that place.’

‘But you kept yourself from falling – and all of us as well! And then, at the farmhouse with Morjin, when everything was so impossibly dark, he might have seized your will and made you into a filthy ghul. But as you always do, you found that brightness inside yourself that he couldn’t stand against, and you –’

‘It is one thing to keep from falling into evil,’ I told him. ‘And it is another to succeed in accomplishing good. Why don’t we try to keep our sight on the task ahead of us?’

‘Ah, this impossible task,’ Maram muttered, shaking his head.

‘Don’t you speak that way!’ Liljana scolded him with a wag of her finger. ‘The more you doubt, the harder you make it for Val to become king.’

‘It’s not his kingship that I doubt,’ Maram said. ‘At least, I don’t doubt it on my good days. But even supposing that Val can win Mesh’s warriors and knights where he couldn’t before, what then? That is the question I’ve asked myself for a thousand miles.’

So had I asked myself this question. And I said to Maram simply, ‘Then Morjin must be defeated.’

‘Defeated? Well, I suppose he must, yes, but defeated how?’

Master Juwain rubbed at the back of his brown-skinned head, then sighed out: ‘The closer that we have come to our journey’s end, the more sure I have become of what our course should be. I told this to Val years ago: that evil cannot be vanquished with a sword, and darkness cannot be defeated in battle but only by shining a bright enough light. And now, the brightest of lights has come into the world.’

He spoke, of course, of Bemossed: a slave whom we had rescued out of Hesperu on the darkest of all our journeys. A simple slave – and perhaps the great Maitreya and Lord of Light long prophesied for Ea and all the other worlds of Eluru. I couldn’t help smiling in joy whenever I thought of this man whom I loved as a brother. It gladdened my heart to know that he was well-hidden in the fastness of the White Mountains – in the safest place on Earth. And guarded from Morjin by Abrasax and the Seven: the Masters of the Great White Brotherhood whose virtues in healing, meditation and the other ancient arts exceeded even those of Master Juwain.

‘Morjin retains the Lightstone,’ Master Juwain continued, ‘but Bemossed keeps him from twisting it toward his purpose. Soon, I think, with Bemossed so well-instructed, he will be able to grasp the Lightstone’s radiance, if not the cup itself. And then …’

Liljana caught his gaze and said, ‘Please don’t mind me – go on.’

‘And then,’ Master Juwain said, ‘Bemossed will bring this radiance into all lands. Men will feel an imperishable life shining within them like a star. Truth will flourish. So will courage. Men will no longer listen to the lies of wicked kings and the Kallimun priests who serve Morjin. They will resist these dark ones with their every thought and action – and eventually they will cast them down. Then new kings will follow Val’s example here in creating a just and enlightened realm, and they will rebuild our Brotherhood’s schools in every land. The schools will be open to all: not just to kings’ and nobles’ sons, and the gifted. Then the true knowledge will flourish along with the higher arts, as it was in the Age of Law. And as it came to be during the reign of Sarojin Hastar, there will be a council of kings, and a High King, and all across Ea, men will turn once more toward the Law of the One.’

While Master Juwain paused in his speech to draw in a breath of air, Liljana kept silent as she stared at him.

‘And then,’ Master Juwain said, ‘we will finally build the civilization that we were sent here from the stars to build. In time, through the great arts and the Maitreya’s splendor, men will become more than men, and we will rejoin the Elijin and Galadin as angels out in the stars. And then the Galadin will make ready a new creation and become the luminous beings we call the Ieldra, and the Age of Light will begin.’

Master Juwain, I thought, had spoken simply and even eloquently of the Great Chain of Being and its purpose. But his words failed to stir Liljana. She stood with her hands planted on her wide hips as she practically spat out at him: ‘Men, kings, laws – and this becoming that keeps you always looking to the stars! Your order’s old dream. In the Age of the Mother, women and men needed no laws to live in peace on this world – no law other than love of the world. And each other. Why become at all when we are already so blessed? So alive? If only we could remember this, there would be a quickening of the whole earth, and men such as Morjin wouldn’t live out another season. We would rid ourselves of his kind as nature does a rabid dog or a rotten tree.’

Most of the time, Liljana seemed no more than a particularly vigorous grandmother who had a talent for cooking and keeping body and soul together. But sometimes, as she did now in the strength that coursed through her sturdy frame and the adamantine light that came over her face, she took on the mantle of the Materix of the Maitriche Telu.

Atara stepped between Liljana and Master Juwain, and she held her blindfolded head perfectly still. Then she said, ‘The Age of the Mother decayed into the Age of Swords because of the evil that men such as Morjin called forth. And Morjin himself put an end to the Age of Law and brought on these terrible times. So long as he draws breath, he will never suffer kings such as Val to arise while he himself is cast down.’

‘No, I’m afraid you are right,’ Master Juwain said, nodding his head at her. ‘And here we must look to Bemossed, too. I believe that he is the Maitreya. And so I must believe that somehow he will heal Morjin of the madness that possesses him. I know this is his dream.’

And I knew it, too, though it worried me that Bemossed might blind himself to the totality of Morjin’s evil and dwell too deeply on this healing that Master Juwain spoke of. Was it truly possible, I wondered? Could the Great Beast ever atone for the horrors that he had wreaked upon the world – and himself – and turn back toward the light?