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Authors: David Eddings
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voice, he stared at the fire Faintly, he heard her whispering in Styric, and then she passed her hand slowly across the flames. Unthinking, he sank to his knees and stared into the fireplace
Something was moving in the fire Sparhawk leaned forward and stared hard at the little bluish curls of flame dancing along the edge of a charred oak log. The blue colour expanded, growing larger and larger, and within that nimbus of coruscating blue, he seemed to see a group of figures that wavered as the flame flickered. The image grew stronger, and he realized that he was looking at the semblance of the throne room in the palace, many miles away Twelve armoured Pandions were crossingthe flagstone floor bearing the slight figure of a young girl. She was borne, not upon a litter, but upon the flat sides of a dozen gleaming sword blades held rock-steady by the twelve black-armoured and visored men. They stopped before the throne, and Sephrenia’s white-robed figure stepped out of the shadows. She raised one hand, seeming to say something, though all Sparhawk could hear was the crackling flames. With a dreadful jerking motion, the young girl sat up. It was Ehlana. Her face was distorted and her eyes wide and vacant.
Without thinking, Sparhawk reached towards her, thrusting his hand directly into the flames.
‘No,’ Sephrenia said sharply, pulling his hand back. ‘You may watch only’
The image of Ehlana, trembling uncontrollably, jerked to its feet, following, it seemed, the unspoken commands of the small woman in the white robe. Imperiously, Sephrenia pointed at the throne, and Ehlana stumbled, even staggered, up the steps of the dais to assume her rightful place.
Sparhawk wept. He tried once again to reach out to his queen, but Sephrenia held him back with a gentle touch that was strangely like an iron chain. ‘Continue to watch, dear one,’ she told him.
The twelve knights then formed a circle around the enthroned Queen and the white-robed woman standing at her side. Reverently, they extended their swords so that the two women on the dais were ringed in steel. Sephrenia raised her arms and spoke. Sparhawk could clearly see the strain on her face as she uttered the words of an incantation he could not even begin to imagine.
The point of each of the twelve swords began to glow and grew brighter and brighter, bathing the dais in intense silvery-white light. The light from those sword tips seemed to coalesce around Ehlana and her throne.Then Sephrenia spoke a single word, bringing her arm down as she did so in a peculiar cutting motion. In an instant the light around Ehlana solidified, and she became as she had been when Sparhawk had seen her in the throne room that morning. The image of Sephrenia, however, wilted and collapsed on the dais beside the crystal-encased throne.
The tears were streaming openly down Sparhawk’s face, and Sephrenia gently enfolded his head in her arms, holding him to her. ‘It is not easy, Sparhawk,’ she comforted him. ‘To look thus into the fire opens the heart and allows what we really are to emerge You are gentler far than you would have us believe.’
He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘How long will the crystal sustain her?’ he asked.
‘For as long as the thirteen of us who were there continue to live,’ Sephrenia replied. ‘A year at most, as you Elenes measure time.’
He stared at her
‘It is our life force that keeps her heart alive As the seasons turn, we will one by one drop away, and one of us who was there will then have to assume the burden of the fallen. Eventually when we have each and every one given all we can – your Queen will die’
‘No!’ he said fiercely He looked at Vanion. ‘Were you there, too?’
Vanion nodded.
‘Who else?’
‘It wouldn’t serve any purpose for you to know that, Sparhawk. We all went willingly and we knew what was involved.’
‘Who’s going to take up the burden you mentioned?’ Sparhawk asked Sephrenia. ‘I
Something was moving in the fire Sparhawk leaned forward and stared hard at the little bluish curls of flame dancing along the edge of a charred oak log. The blue colour expanded, growing larger and larger, and within that nimbus of coruscating blue, he seemed to see a group of figures that wavered as the flame flickered. The image grew stronger, and he realized that he was looking at the semblance of the throne room in the palace, many miles away Twelve armoured Pandions were crossingthe flagstone floor bearing the slight figure of a young girl. She was borne, not upon a litter, but upon the flat sides of a dozen gleaming sword blades held rock-steady by the twelve black-armoured and visored men. They stopped before the throne, and Sephrenia’s white-robed figure stepped out of the shadows. She raised one hand, seeming to say something, though all Sparhawk could hear was the crackling flames. With a dreadful jerking motion, the young girl sat up. It was Ehlana. Her face was distorted and her eyes wide and vacant.
Without thinking, Sparhawk reached towards her, thrusting his hand directly into the flames.
‘No,’ Sephrenia said sharply, pulling his hand back. ‘You may watch only’
The image of Ehlana, trembling uncontrollably, jerked to its feet, following, it seemed, the unspoken commands of the small woman in the white robe. Imperiously, Sephrenia pointed at the throne, and Ehlana stumbled, even staggered, up the steps of the dais to assume her rightful place.
Sparhawk wept. He tried once again to reach out to his queen, but Sephrenia held him back with a gentle touch that was strangely like an iron chain. ‘Continue to watch, dear one,’ she told him.
The twelve knights then formed a circle around the enthroned Queen and the white-robed woman standing at her side. Reverently, they extended their swords so that the two women on the dais were ringed in steel. Sephrenia raised her arms and spoke. Sparhawk could clearly see the strain on her face as she uttered the words of an incantation he could not even begin to imagine.
The point of each of the twelve swords began to glow and grew brighter and brighter, bathing the dais in intense silvery-white light. The light from those sword tips seemed to coalesce around Ehlana and her throne.Then Sephrenia spoke a single word, bringing her arm down as she did so in a peculiar cutting motion. In an instant the light around Ehlana solidified, and she became as she had been when Sparhawk had seen her in the throne room that morning. The image of Sephrenia, however, wilted and collapsed on the dais beside the crystal-encased throne.
The tears were streaming openly down Sparhawk’s face, and Sephrenia gently enfolded his head in her arms, holding him to her. ‘It is not easy, Sparhawk,’ she comforted him. ‘To look thus into the fire opens the heart and allows what we really are to emerge You are gentler far than you would have us believe.’
He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘How long will the crystal sustain her?’ he asked.
‘For as long as the thirteen of us who were there continue to live,’ Sephrenia replied. ‘A year at most, as you Elenes measure time.’
He stared at her
‘It is our life force that keeps her heart alive As the seasons turn, we will one by one drop away, and one of us who was there will then have to assume the burden of the fallen. Eventually when we have each and every one given all we can – your Queen will die’
‘No!’ he said fiercely He looked at Vanion. ‘Were you there, too?’
Vanion nodded.
‘Who else?’
‘It wouldn’t serve any purpose for you to know that, Sparhawk. We all went willingly and we knew what was involved.’
‘Who’s going to take up the burden you mentioned?’ Sparhawk asked Sephrenia. ‘I
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