“Hightspall had no one fit for command,” said Tobry. “The Five Heroes had been too dominant for too long, and they had wanted all the glory for themselves. The younger officers tried to emulate Grandys’ tactics, failed, and were ruinously defeated. In a few months the Cythians had taken back most of the territory they’d lost in a decade of war — and it took another two hundred and forty years to beat them.”
“Enough talk.” The chancellor rose abruptly. “I can’t be stuck here, so far away. If an opportunity comes, it’ll be over before I hear about it.”
“Are we going somewhere?” said Tali.
“I sent messages to my army in Rutherin, weeks ago. And to my other allies, to come east. We’re riding west to join them in the morning.”
“I don’t want you to spy on him again,” said Tobry, late that night.
They were up under the dome where he was accustomed to practise magery. Though it was exceedingly cold, it was a large open space where there was no chance of anyone eavesdropping on them.
“And I don’t want you going off to kill Grandys, so we’re even.”
“If you’re finished arguing,” said Holm, “can you get on with it? We’ve got an early start in the morning and I need my sleep.”
Tali sat on the blanket she’d brought up, studied the self-portrait of Lyf for a minute to fix him in mind, then closed her eyes and focused her magery on his temple. She hadn’t needed such help last time.
“It’s a lot harder to see than before,” she said after several fruitless minutes. “Is the temple protected, I wonder, or is it my weakening gift?”
Neither Holm nor Tobry replied. She tried again and, with no warning, broke through.
“If you’d kept the catalyz on — ” Errek was saying.
“Don’t speak the name!” hissed Lyf. After a long pause he went on. “Besides, my father the king cautioned me not to wear it unless I was about to use it. It’s our most precious secret.”
“Do you think I don’t know that?” growled Errek. “I created king-magery in the first place — and the key.”
“I know you did,” Lyf said hastily. “But — ”
“Some secrets are best hidden in plain view.”
“What’s that?” cried Lyf.
Tali withdrew hastily. Her heart was pounding as if she had just climbed a high ladder.
“Did you see anything?” said Tobry.
“He mentioned something called a catalyz. Wearing it.”
“What were their words, exactly?” said Holm.
She repeated them. “Is a catalyz a magical talisman? In olden times, Grandys stripped the temple looking for a talisman. At least, that’s what Wiven said before Lyf had him put to death.”
“It’s an alchymical term,” said Tobry. “A catalyz isn’t magical in any way. It’s just something that needs to be present before something else can occur.”
“Like the detonator in a grenado?” said Holm.
“No, the detonator explodes and makes the grenado go off. A catalyz doesn’t make anything happen — it simply allows it to happen, when conditions are right.”
“Is the catalyz the key to king-magery?” said Tali.
“Possibly.”
“So that’s why Grandys could never find a talisman,” said Tali. “There wasn’t one, because the catalyz isn’t the least bit magical.”
“If Errek First-King created king-magery to heal the land, why did he also make the catalyz? What’s it really for?”
“I think I can answer that,” said Holm. “From my study of history.”
“You must have studied it more deeply than I have,” said Tobry.
“I’ve certainly studied it a lot longer. In old Cythe, magery was forbidden to anyone save the king, and bound around with all kinds of punishments if anyone else tried to learn even the tiniest spell. But why?”
“To preserve the mystique of the king,” Tobry said cynically.
“Perhaps. But here’s a thought — what if any adept who learned the procedures — the spells, if you like — could use king-magery? It would put the whole realm in peril, and most of all, the king. Perhaps that’s why Errek created the catalyz.”
“Why?” said Tali.
“To be a secret key, known only to the current king or ruling queen, without which king-magery could not be used. And the secret would only be passed on as the old king passed on king-magery to his heir.”
“It fits the evidence,” said Tobry.
“If we can find the key, the catalyz,” said Tali, “we might command king-magery. It’s the greatest magery of all; it could win us the war.”
“Nothing is that simple,” said Tobry. “Even the kings of old Cythe had a long and difficult struggle to learn king-magery, I’ve heard, and some never did.”
“All right,” said Tali. “But if Grandys gets it — ”
“That,” said Holm, “is a truly terrifying prospect.”
“It would certainly make him invincible,” said Tobry.
“That’s not what I meant. Errek designed king-magery to heal the land, and every king had to swear publicly that he’d made that choice. If Grandys tries to twist king-magery to destructive purposes, instead of healing the land, it could destroy it.”
“How does that work?” Tobry said curiously.
“I don’t know. But this land can be deadly when things get out of balance. Lake Fumerous was created when the fourth Vomit blew itself to pieces in ancient times. If it happened again, would any human life survive in Hightspall?”
“I doubt it,” said Tobry.
“But surely Grandys would understand the risk,” said Tali. “He’d know not to go too far.”
“A man like him?” said Holm. “He never listens; he would never believe that such a rule would apply to him. What megalomaniac would?”
Tali looked down at Lyf’s self-portrait, which was still resting in her lap. “This circlet looks a bit out of place, wouldn’t you say?”
“Why so?” said Tobry.
“Lyf’s wearing elaborate kingly robes, yet his crown is a simple silver circlet.”
“The kings of Cythe never wore crowns,” said Holm. “Perhaps it’s something he had as a boy and put on to give himself confidence.”
“Then why paint himself wearing it as a newly crowned king?” said Tali.
“To remind himself to stay humble? Lyf never wanted to be king. It fell to him when his older brother died suddenly.”
“What if the circlet is the catalyz,” Tali said slowly. “Holm, was there a circlet among all the artefacts in Tirnan Twil?”
“I wouldn’t know. There are whole floors of artefacts and we didn’t go up there.”
“It doesn’t take a very hot fire to melt silver,” said Tobry, “and from what you said about that fire, it was a conflagration. If the circlet was there, it would have been fused into a useless lump.”
“Wait a minute,” said Holm.
“What?” said Tali.
“Silver was never used by the kings of Cythe — not for ceremonial purposes, anyway.”
“Why not?”
“It was considered an ignoble metal.”
“What did they use?”
“Gold, mostly,” said Tobry. “Sometimes platina which, as I recall, Lyf had a lot of in his caverns.”
“Gold or platina, it would still have melted in a fire like that,” said Holm.
“Gold, maybe, though it’s harder to melt than silver,” said Tobry. “But not platina — it takes an exceedingly hot fire to even soften it. Any ordinary fire, fuelled by wood and paper, wouldn’t affect it.”
“So if the circlet is platina, and it was at Tirnan Twil,” said Tali, “it could still be there. And sooner or later, Lyf is going to reach the same conclusion.”
“Can’t say I’d want to go back and see what fire did to all those people,” said Holm.
CHAPTER 82
“They’re comin’, Tali,” moaned Rannilt, shaking her. “They’re comin’ for you. You gotta get out.”
The chancellor’s entourage had camped in a steep valley four days’ ride west of Garramide. Tali could not see Rannilt’s face; their tent was dark as the inside of a rock. The child’s warnings weren’t always reliable but Tali did not ask questions. She began heaving on her boots; they had all slept in their clothes. Down the other end she could hear Glynnie, who shared the tent with them, doing the same.