Blades of the Banished - Robert Ryan Page 0,58
deeds of Conhain, and this the whole crowd soon took up until it boomed in slow majesty throughout the city. At first it was hundreds of voices, and then the deep-throated song of thousands rumbled like majestic thunder and the very ground shook.
Lanrik rode on. No one about him spoke. If he glanced back he saw the awed faces of the Raithlin and behind them again the mighty figure of Conhain. The king gazed straight ahead. He did not speak, nor did he make any sign. But he rode tall and proud, and his otherworldly eyes glinted.
What aid a spirit could give, Lanrik did not know. And yet the die was cast. Doom approached and the final confrontation with Ebona neared. He did not know what would happen, but no single person in the city would be the same hereafter.
At times the singing slowed as they passed one of the beloved places of the city such as the Merenloth. Then the crowd would cry in one voice: “Conhain! Conhain! The king is come again!”
At length they came to Conhain Court, and thence to the gate before the palace grounds. The corpse that was hung there long ago still remained, though now it was a thing of leathered skin and bleached bones held together by ragged cloth. There were no guards. They had fled before the procession arrived.
The riders paused, and the crowd, filling Esgallien’s great court, fell silent.
The Lindrath looked strange. Slowly he dismounted and undid the chains that held the corpse. With great reverence he gathered the remains in the Raithlin cloak the man had once worn with pride, though now it was a tattered thing, stained by gore and shredded by the sharp beaks of carrion crows. Yet still the Raithlin motif of the trotting fox looking back over its shoulder stood out clearly.
The Lindrath laid his burden down to the side of the gate. There he stood a moment, head bowed. When he spoke, his voice was deep and strong, and it carried back into the crowd:
Our duty is to serve and protect
Our honor is to fight but not hate
Our love is for all that is good in the world
From the mouths of all the Raithlin came a reply:
Well did you serve and protect
High was your honor, low was your hate
Your love for good was a beacon of light
The crowd spoke no word, but from somewhere within it the wailing of a single woman rose in heartbreak.
The Lindrath raised his head. He moved to the gate and tested it. The rattle of metal bars and hinges was loud, but it did not budge.
“The gate is locked,” he said.
Aranloth nudged his roan forward. “Stand aside,” he ordered.
The lòhren leaned forward in the saddle and placed the tip of his staff against the wrought iron lock. Nothing happened at first, and then suddenly the whole gate trembled. With a loud crack, a high-pitched scream of tortured metal, and finally a puff of black smoke, the lock shattered.
The gate swung open with a crash, and the Lindrath remounted. They all rode through in silence and entered the royal gardens. They followed the Hainer Lon as it led to the palace. The crowd flowed behind them like a sea spilled onto dry ground from the basin that long hemmed it.
There were no guards. The travelers saw nobody before them, either in the grounds or at windows or balconies.
They came to the palace doors, great things of ancient oak, nearly as old as the city. They were shut.
Silence hung over everything like a shroud. No word or even whisper could be heard.
Lanrik gazed at the palace, seeking signs of the enemy. He saw nothing, but he knew that Ebona would have learned of their coming. And she would not have fled. She was inside, though what she would do now, he could not guess. He wondered what they should do in their own turn, but the blank walls and vacant windows offered no answer.
21. Nothing Lasts Forever…
Into the silence the Lindrath blew the talnak horn. It was loud but remote, a clear and high series of winding notes that reverberated with otherworldly grace.
When the last echo died, Aranloth cried out. His steel-edged voice carried far, no doubt penetrating deep into the palace.
“Ebona! You are no queen of Esgallien. Leave your stolen throne! Come hither, before the people of the realm and receive judgment at the hand of a true king!”
There was silence again. It lay over the city like a deep shadow,