“But overriding such work was another, larger assignment. King Joyse commanded the Congery to define an ethic of Imagery. He commanded the Imagers to answer the great moral question of Imagery: are the beings and forces and things that come out of mirrors created by translation, or do they have a prior existence of their own, from which they are removed by translation?
“All very simple, is it not? Nothing to it.” Quillon took another swig from the decanter, wiped his lips again. “As you might guess, my lady, I am much harder pressed to explain how the King did these things.
“If the reports of him are true, he did it, essentially, by being the kind of man for whom other men – and women as well – were willing to die.
“He was born to the princedom which is now his Demesne, and he became the lord in Orison – though Orison was smaller then – at the age of fifteen, when his father was caught trying to betray the Cadwal tyrant who then held the princedom – was caught and slowly pulled limb from limb by oxen in front of young Joyse and all his family, as if that sort of lesson would teach them loyalty. He was little better than a boy, but already he possessed a quality which made a strong and, um, perhaps wise” – he glanced at Havelock – “Imager become his faithful friend. What the boy did after that, he and his Imager did together.
“What they did first was to sneak away in the middle of the night, leaving his family to bear the brunt of the Cadwal prince’s displeasure.
“Naturally, this did not raise the esteem in which his people held him. So they were rather surprised when he returned at the head of a force from neighboring Tor, threw the Cadwals out, and personally separated the prince from his head.
“Tor had happened to be in a period of independence at the time. And it was somewhat more accustomed to independence than the other princedoms, being situated with the mountains at its back and Perdon, Armigite, Domne, and Termigan around it – therefore difficult to conquer. Young Joyse had insisted to the Tor – who was himself still young enough to be audacious – that the only hope for his people, and for all Mordant, was a union of the Cares against both Alend and Cadwal. And the Tor had liked this idea. He had also liked young Joyse. On the other hand, he had not liked to risk too much of his Care. So he had given Joyse scarcely two hundred men to use against more than two thousand Cadwals.
“Joyse and his Imager and those two hundred men, however, required only three days to free the Demesne. Before sunset of the third day, a new flag flew over Orison – the pennon of Mordant.
“You may wonder how that was done. I can tell you only that King Joyse and his forces made extensive use of the secret passages for which Orison has always been famed. It seems Orison has been a stewpot of plots and counter-plots since its first tower was erected,” Master Quillon commented by the way. “Also, their attacks were directed from the beginning at the Cadwal Imagers rather than at the soldiery. In fact, he spared as many of the soldiers as he could. When he was done, he offered them a choice between service with him or freedom. Those who chose his service became the kernel of the guard which eventually unified Mordant, and which has since successfully defied both Alend and Cadwal for decades.
“At this time, his people reversed their earlier ill opinion of him and became correspondingly enthusiastic.
“With considerably more support now from the Tor, young Joyse set about liberating Perdon. Then the three Cares turned their attention to Armigite, and to Termigan. Domne fell to them almost without effort – it has always been the least of the Cares, though the Demesne is smaller. Finally, in the most savage and costly battle he had yet faced, Joyse freed Fayle from Alend and became King.
“I will not protract this tale with details. You can imagine, I am sure, that all the Cares swore allegiance to King Joyse, but did not all keep their oaths, until he taught them to do so. You can imagine that most of his first success grew from the fact that neither Alend nor Cadwal were expecting what he did, and so the truly cruel wars for Mordant’s independence were fought later, when his enemies understood what had happened and rose with all their strength against him. It is enough to say that twenty years passed before our King’s hold on Mordant was secure enough to permit him to begin the work of collecting Imagers.
“That was thirty years ago,” murmured the Master, peering into the mouth of the decanter to see how much wine was there. “For those of us who remember any part of it at all, it was grand. Even young boys, as I was, thought that everything the King touched took on a kind of sanctity, the stature of heroism and mighty deeds.”
The contemplation of his tale – or the effect of the wine – was making him increasingly morose. His jaws chewed indecisively. Perhaps he didn’t know how much more he should tell Terisa. Or perhaps he was simply debating another swig from the decanter.
“Go on,” she said quietly. She wanted to learn how the King of Quillon’s tale had become the frail old man she had met – a man so ineffective that even people who had worshiped him when they were boys now disobeyed him almost for no reason. “Tell me what happened.”
Master Quillon made a face. “Well, of course, with his friend to advise and guide and assist him, the first thing he did was to start collecting Imagers. And the Imagers were so accustomed to hiding their secrets from each other, to looking at everyone else as an enemy, that most of them were reluctant to be collected. In addition, Cadwal and Alend naturally did everything in their power to preserve their access to the resources of Imagery. All three kingdoms existed in an ongoing state of war – undeclared war, but war nonetheless – and at times King Joyse had to hammer at his enemies until they broke. But he also used every possible kind of cunning and stealth. He broadcast bribes. He sent out small bands on lightning raids. He suborned messengers, counselors, captains, anyone who might know the whereabouts of a man he wanted. He even went so far as to kidnap the families of Imagers and hold them hostage until the Imagers surrendered. It was at once more complex and more difficult than the process of forging Mordant out of its separate Cares. It cost him another twenty years.”
Again, he stopped. This time, however, he took an abrupt pull from the decanter and resumed his narration.
“But the bulk of the job had been completed five years earlier. Only one obstacle remained. The Alend Monarch and the High King of Cadwal, it will not surprise you to hear, did not trust King Joyse. They feared what he was doing, even though after each of his raids and battles he left their kingdoms essentially as he had found them. In their eyes, that was insane behavior, and insanity does not inspire confidence in the bosoms of mortal enemies. And, of course, if he had Imagers and they did not they would be defenseless against him.
“The High King of Cadwal, however, was both more prompt and less scrupulous than the Alend Monarch in his response to the threat. High King Festten, who still rules Cadwal from the great coastal city of Carmag, where the minarets rise high above the rocks and the sea, and where every exotic vice known to man is nurtured in the soil of riches and power” – Master Quillon didn’t appear to think well of Carmag – “Festten began collecting Imagers of his own. He formed a force of perhaps thirty men, each of them powerful in Imagery, and set over them the arch-Imager Vagel. In addition, he gave his personal champion of battle, the High King’s Monomach, responsibility for the protection of his Imagers. Guarded by the Monomach’s incomparable prowess, this cabal dedicated itself solely to the arts of violence, and to the defense of Cadwal, and to the defiance of King Joyse.”