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free hand.
Suddenly it seemed to Rhavas that the lodestone was swinging on its own, not
through Methodios'
agency. It described a complex pattern in the air. Methodios and the mages
near him watched that path with careful indeed, fascinated attention. "How
interesting," one of the wizards said, at the same time as another was
remarking, "How unusual." The independent motion was interesting to Rhavas,
too, but he could not have said if it was unusual.
"Well?" Koubatzes asked a minute or so later.
"Well, I would say there are some wards," Methodios replied, and the other
mages who'd eyed the lodestone nodded. He went on, "How strong they are . . .
I'm not quite sure, I'm afraid. I'd have an easier time gauging it if this
were Videssian wizardry." He looked down at the lodestone again. "My feeling
is that the sorcery we planned before we set out from Skopentzana should do
the job."
"Excellent!" Koubatzes breathed out a small fog bank with the word. "This is
also my belief. How can the Skotos-loving barbarians hope to stand against us
when we have not only the lord with the great and good mind but also our
hard-won learning, lore, and wisdom in the other pan of the balance?"
"That is well said!" Rhavas clapped his mittened hands together. His applause
yielded only a muffled thump. A moment later, he realized that was just as
well. Real clapping might have carried to the
Khamorth shepherds on the far side of the rise.
"I thank you, very holy sir." Koubatzes bowed to him. "We will proceed as we
planned and as we've discussed, then. I have the amulet here."
He drew it out from under the thick wool tunic he wore beneath a wolfskin coat
that gave him something of the look of a nomad himself. Gold gleamed in the
shape of the sun-circle. So did two of the three stones set into the golden
disk: an emerald of a green to make meadows despair and a rainbow-shimmering
opal. The third stone, by contrast, seemed no more than a small, glassy
pebble.
Pointing to it, Rhavas asked, "What is that stone, and why do you set so much
store by it?"
"This, very holy sir?" Koubatzes set his finger on the nondescript stone. The
prelate nodded. Koubatzes said, "This is an authentic diamond. I know it
doesn't look like much, but the reason for that is simple: it is so hard, it
cannot be polished or shaped. No other stone will so much as scratch it; only
another diamond can do that. There are no more than three or four in all of
Skopentzana, I believe."
Rhavas was ready to believe it, too. Even in Videssos the city, diamonds were
surpassingly rare and prized for their rarity more than for their beauty. The
prelate understood that; this stone was nothing out of the ordinary to look
at. He asked, "What is its special virtue? Come to that, what are the magical
virtues of the other two stones?"
Koubatzes gave him a crooked smile. "So you'd be a sorcerer, would you?"
"Not I." Rhavas shook his head. "By your courtesy, tell me what someone not
initiated into your mysteries may know."
"I'll do that, and gladly," the wizard said. "The diamond, which as you see is
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
fixed to the left side of the amulet, is good against enemies, madness, wild
beasts, and cruel men. The emerald drives away enemies and makes them weak.
The opal conduces to making one victorious over his adversaries."
"These are all good choices, then," Rhavas agreed. "May Phos grant success to
the spells you make from your stones."
"My thanks," Koubatzes said. "Pray for us."
Rhavas did. Surely Phos would favor those who reverenced him against the
savages from the steppe.
"We bless thee, Phos, lord with the great and good mind, by thy grace our
protector, watchful beforehand that the great test of life may be decided in
our favor." He repeated the creed over and over again, bearing down on we and
our
. He saw no harm in reminding the good god who his true followers were. Phos
already knew, of course but still, why leave such things to chance?
Koubatzes set the amulet not on the snow but on a square of blue silk he
carefully laid out so its corners pointed toward the cardinal directions.
Rhavas didn't need to ask what the square represented. What could it be but
the sky through which the sun traveled? Koubatzes stood south of the square.
Other wizards took their places to the north and east and west. They began to
chant.
Power thrummed in the air as the incantation built. Rhavas could feel it, as
he could feel lightning build up in the air during a thunderstorm before the
stroke fell. The wizards' hands moved in quick, intricate passes, sometimes in
unison, sometimes with each sorcerer playing his own role to help form a
larger and more potent whole.
The mages not directly involved in the conjuration watched avidly. Perhaps the
four casting the spell drew on their strength in some way Rhavas could not
see, or perhaps they were pupils learning from the performances of masters.
Methodios' eyes in particular were wide and staring. Next to this, the magic
he'd worked was as a boy's playhouse measured against the imperial palaces in
Videssos the city.
Quite visibly, Koubatzes gathered himself. "Now!" he said, and hurled the
power toward the west. Then he and all three of the mages who'd helped him
staggered; one crumpled to the snow. Wizards had great power, but did not
wield it without a price.
"What magic can do, magic has done," Rhavas said. "May the lord with the great
and good mind bless our endeavor and crown it with success."
"So may it be." Koubatzes sounded even more drained than he looked; his voice [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]