well, for there had been fighting in the place where that Chieftain lay in his bones. No Chieftain since that time has had the crown, and it is said that the Cavern of Ulum Auwa is empty of it.’
‘Is it sung that the stranger took it?’
‘It is sung that when the stranger went, the crown went, though whether Auwamol stretched out his hand to take it or the stranger took it is not sung.’ The shaman belched deeply and lovingly. ‘By the Tree of Forever, Thewson, you make good beer.’
There was still almost all the Year-Without-A-Leader before any decision about the Chair of Chieftains would be made. Thewson decided that there was a remote chance he could find the Crown of Wisdom in that time, or kill himself trying, or find somewhere else in the world which would be more appealing than the Lion Courts would be if ruled by someone else. He decided to have a try at the great falls first, and if he survived that but did not find the Crown he would go to the place of Crossing the Waters and take the first ship heading anywhere. He had carved ivory and gold beads to pay his way. Custom dictated that he go empty-handed except for the tall spear bearing his own basilisk-skin banner and a money pouch and a cloak of skins. That is the way that he went.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JAER
Year 1165
The tower stood at the edge of the plateau, fronted by a paved courtyard and surrounded by a wall with battlements. It needed no battlements, for it was protected by devices both wonderful and terrible; still the battlements were there, grey in the heat of the southern winds. Behind the tower, the land sloped away gently through open pastures of high grass and scattered groves of gnarled grey trees which annually burst into fountains of crimson blossom. The rest of the time they looked like bundles of dusty feathers and smelled little better. Tree ferns grew there, and the ubiquitous ow grew among them, up, down, sidewise through every possible opening until the whole became a single tangle through which few beasts could go. Birds liked the ow thickets, and Jaer hunted along the thicket edge with nocked arrow.
Beyond this rolling, open land, the plateau dropped eastward into canyons and rough land, heavily wooded and shrouded in cloud. To the north the plateau cupped a sizeable lake which drained away over the cliff in a thousand feet of plunging rainbows. To the south the land went up into the high peaks and marshes of the Falling Water Mountain where it rained forever and the traveller walked through bogs and giant mosses and, chances were, never came out. Westward was the valley with the huddle of village houses and the river which flowed further westward through the steep canyons to the seas. Beyond that, Nathan said, the ocean surrounded all the land, and northeast was another land, and beyond that another, the same south-west, a whole chain of them slanting across the Outer Sea and called, for that reason, the Outer Islands. Though, Nathan said, the sea was not really Outer at all, merely less inner than the Sea of Thienezh which was called the Inner Sea. As for the island they were on, it had no name now. With the Separation, names for places were falling into disuse except among traders. The island had been called Taniela at one time. It still had one port town, called Candor.
Nathan said, also, that past the islands and the sea was another land so huge that it surrounded the sea. On a clear day Jaer had seen from the top of the tower the vast plane of water stretching in all directions and the low cloud far to the northeast which Nathan said hung over the great land. He traced the way to it on the map, asking about this and that and accepting that someday he would go there. For the time being, however, Jaer, at age twelve, was content to do what needed to be done each day. Hunting was one of those things, if they wanted meat for the pot, and it was while hunting that Jaer met the Serpent.
He had penetrated into an ow thicket
Joyce Magnin
James Naremore
Rachel van Dyken
Steven Savile
M. S. Parker
Peter B. Robinson
Robert Crais
Mahokaru Numata
L.E. Chamberlin
James R. Landrum