Fortress of Eagles

And if some threat came full-fledged, stronger, noisier, larger, rolling in like sunset, it would come from far away, so that Emuin might well have clear sight of it in a tower lifted up above the clatter and smoke of the town. The disturbance he had seen in the Quinalt this morning had no immediacy here, aloft. All he could touch of the Quinalt’s troubles from here was an agglomeration of souls, not an orderly disturbance, and it mustered no threat: it could not get out of its confinement… that was precisely the problem. Even the lightning, a hammerblow from the heavens, had not released them, striking nearby, as it had. Release the Masons’ wards entirely and the souls would scatter like mice when the door was opened.

Came a timid knock. A crack of the door, that made the storm howl through the seams of the shutter. Uwen looked in, ever so carefully.

“Was you all right, m’lord? We got to thinkin’… we should ask, beggin’ your pardon…”

“Yes, quite safe here, Uwen. We’ve shut the window.”

“M’lord,” Uwen said, and gently closed the door.

“So how wasthe Quinalt?” Emuin asked in the settling of a disturbed parchment to the floor. “And did you remark anything odd about the place?”

“You’ve seen the Lines.”

“Oh, aye. A mare’s nest, a thorough mare’s nest. But one ca

“They don’t see them at all?”

“Blind as bats.”

“Shadows are trapped there. Many of them.” But he was sure now that was no news at all to Emuin. “What do you know about the shadows there?” he asked, while he had the old man’s attention and while Emuin was inclined to talk. “Do you knowwhat used to stand there?”

“King Selwyn feared Sihhë ghosts extremely in life. Ironic, his resting place.”

“There are Sihhë there?”

“At least there some that are not wholly—or holy—Men.”

The water boiled, for a second infusion. Emuin got up, measured tea into the cups and poured the hot water. Tristen took his and stared at the floating bits of leaf. He took the spoon in his turn, sank the flotsam in the cup before he sipped the hot liquid. The steam flew away in ba

Here in the Guelesfort itself were shadows, a few in this tower, which crept in the crevices of set stone and along the joins of wooden floor and stone walls. They ran beneath the table and among the shelves of pots and herb bundles and scrolls and codices which somehow the two brothers had never dusted.

“Not Men,” Tristen echoed master Emuin. Often when Emuin had left a subject he would not then go back to it, not for a very long time, and sometimes never. But this was too intriguing a thread to let go. “Was Hasufin—was Mauryl—were they Men?” He had asked that in a hundred ways and never been satisfied. “Am I? Or what isthe difference? Guelen and Galasieni, you say. But what is the difference?”

“Oh, many.”

His shoulders fell. Master Emuin was going to evade the question again.

But then master Emuin said, pensively, “The earth is old. And regarding the shadow at Ynefel, the older a shadow, perhaps, the stranger it grows. There were folk the Galasieni ruled, and there was a shrine of sorts where the Quinalt stands today, so I suspect. One feels it especially in storms. One hesitates—” Emuin looked to the window, as the sounds of thunder rolled above the roof and ale-driven merriment thumped from behind the door. “One hesitates to prod such things, especially when one had really as lief not have the answer, or have to deal with it at the moment. Some things are easier to call than to settle back again, mark me. I do not think these in the Quinaltine are apt to break forth. I have rarely seen them and they are few.”

“They were thick, sir. There were hundreds… behind the Patriarch… every time he walked the line.”

“Are you quite sure?” Emuin was paying full attention now, and the easy feeling had left the room. “I felt nothing of the sort this morning. And I was attentive.”

“I felt you in your tower,” Tristen said. He had assured himself there was no threat. Now he was not so sure. “But you say you saw nothing this morning.”

“No, not I. But I’m not—” Emuin hesitated. “I am not precisely of your heritage. Perhaps some answered you who would not seek me.”

A small chill had come into the tower, perhaps a breeze; and there was quiet for a moment between them.

“Perhaps I shouldn’t have gone there,” Tristen said. “I asked, sir. I did ask…”

“I will not prevent you from the things you do,” Emuin said. “Only yourwill can do that.”

“Advice, sir. Advice, if I ask it—”

“Only onewill should guide what you do… Mauryl’swill, in all that he laid down, is sufficient. I have known it longer than you, young sir, who still deny it, but perhaps not.”

“I have done all Mauryl’s will.”

“Nothing that regards living men is ever finished— Living men, in whatever sense. And gods know, nothing that regards wizards is ever settled, and Mauryl Gestaurien, twice so. No, I ca

“But you knew I was meaning to speak to Efanor, sir. If you even in the least feared I shouldn’t go this morning, could you not at least have advised me of those fears? Could you not have advised me at least of your will? Can you not say… as Mauryl would say, young fool, here is a thing you should not do?”

“Did harm come today, all the same?”

“None that I saw, sir.”

“And did anything break forth?”

“Nothing. Nothing did that I saw, sir.” He had never yet admitted his glance into the west and his misgivings.

“Would you have permitted harm to break forth in the sanctuary?”

“No, sir. Not if I saw it.”

“And are not your eyes and ears sharper than mine?” Emuin did not wait for his answer. “Then Ishould by no means have stood in your path, should I? Oh, aye, to the contrary, you would have done whatever Cefwyn asked, come fire, come pestilence, you would do all heasked.”

“Did I not swear to do all Cefwyn asked? He is the king. I swore to him.”

“A folly, but one that had to be. One that will have your fate bend you orhim until it has what it wills, will I, nill I. I advise you, but you will not hear me.”

“Then what is this fate? What is my fate? A word, a word. You say it, sir, and I hear it, but it will not Unfold to me, it never will Unfold. Tell me! If I cando as you say I can do, then thisI will, and, will I, nill I, my wishing does no good at all. You never answer me.”

“Fate? A chance word, a folly, an empty word like Efanor’s gods. I shall never advise you beyond what I do. Abandon hope of that. Inform you, perhaps I may, if’t will serve Mauryl’s will, as may be, or may not. Shall I listen to you, when you become willing to inform me of your will? —or his? Aye, that will I, also. But I would be a fool to say to you, desist. To the wind out there, perhaps, but not to Mauryl’s Working. You must govern yourself, young lord. Do you understand what I am saying? That no wizard made cangovern your lightest whim. And did I tell you the wrongthing, and divert you from Mauryl’s Working, gods know where we should be. Swear no more oaths to anyone, if you are wise. If you wish my advice, I give it you in this one thing. Do not bind yourself. Fealty you had to swear. Every man must have a master and every Manmust have a lord. But as you love Cefwyn, be careful of your oaths and, as you are not a Man, beware of making promises. Mauryl’s will is a burning fire. And it lives, young lord, oh, it lives.”

“Mauryl is dead! I have done all that Mauryl willed me to do. Have I not, sir? Answer me! If I have power over anything, answer mel”

That silence resumed. There was only the crackling of the fire, Emuin meeting him stare for stare.