Ancestors of Avalon. Marion Zimmer BradleyЧитать онлайн книгу.
did not have the strength to carry both her and the weight of her memories.
Tiriki nodded to the Power the image represented, then leaned against a nearby olive tree and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, waiting. It was not the Great Mother, but the woman who had borne her whose words interested her now.
‘Your father had the most brilliant mind of anyone I have ever known. And except perhaps for Micail’s father, Micon, he had the strongest will. We never fell in love with ordinary men, Domaris and I,’ Deoris added with a rueful smile. ‘But what you must understand first of all is that Riveda was not a destroyer. Both black and white are mingled in the grey robes his order wore. He knew from his studies and the practice of medicine that any living thing that does not grow and change will die. Riveda tested the laws of the Temple because he desired to make it stronger, and ultimately he broke them for the same reason. He came to believe that the priesthood had become so locked into ancient dogmas that it could not adapt, no matter what disaster might occur.’
‘That is not so,’ Tiriki replied indignantly, defending the traditions and training that had shaped her life.
‘I sincerely hope that it is not,’ Deoris smiled tolerantly. ‘But it is up to you and Micail to prove him wrong. And you will never have a better chance. You will lose much that is fair in this exile, but you will escape our old sins as well.’
‘And so will you, Mother! You must agree to come away—’
‘Hush,’ said Deoris, ‘I cannot. I will not. Riveda was tried and executed not only for his own deeds, but also for much that was done by others – the Black Robes, who were only caught and punished later. It was their work that broke the bonds Riveda had loosened. They sought power, but Riveda wanted knowledge. That was why I helped him. If Riveda deserved his fate – then my guilt is no less.’
‘Mother—’ Tiriki began, for still she did not entirely understand.
‘Give my place to your sister,’ Deoris said, resolutely changing the subject. ‘I have already arranged for an escort to bring Galara and her baggage to your chambers the first thing in the morning, so you will have a hard time turning her away.’
‘I assumed you would send her,’ Tiriki said, exasperated.
‘Then that’s settled. And now,’ said Deoris as she got to her feet, ‘I think it’s time we rejoined the men. I doubt that Chedan and Micail have had any more luck in persuading Reio-ta than you have had with me. But they are two against one, and my husband may be feeling in need of reinforcement by now.’
Defeated, Tiriki followed her mother back to the porch, where the men were sitting with goblets and two small jugs of Carian wine. But Micail looked thunderous, and Chedan was also glaring at his drink. Only Reio-ta showed any sign of serenity.
Tiriki shot Micail a glance, as if to say, I take it he is also still determined to stay?
Micail nodded faintly, and Tiriki turned to her stepfather, intending to beg him to go with them.
Instead, she pointed to Deoris, exclaiming, ‘You would go fast enough if she decided on it! You are sacrificing each other, for no good reason. You must agree to come with us!’
Deoris and Reio-ta exchanged tired glances, and Tiriki felt a sudden chill, as if she were a novice priestess chancing upon forbidden mysteries.
‘It is your destiny to carry the truth of the Guardians to a new land,’ said Deoris gently, ‘and it is our karma to remain. It is not sacrifice but an atonement, which we have owed since…’
Reio-ta completed her thought. ‘Since before the…fall of the Ancient Land.’
Chedan had closed his eyes in pain. Micail looked from one to the other, brows knitting in sudden surmise.
‘Atonement,’ Micail echoed softly. ‘Tell me, Uncle – what do you know about the Man with Crossed Hands?’ His voice shook, and Tiriki also felt a tremor in the stone beneath her feet, as if something else had heard his words.
‘What?’ rasped Reio-ta, his dark face going ashen. ‘He shows himself to you?’
‘Yes,’ whispered Tiriki, ‘this morning, when the earth shook – he was trying to break his chains. And I – I knew his name! How can that be?’
Once more an odd look passed between Deoris and her husband, and he reached out to take her hand.
‘Then you unwittingly bring the clearest proof,’ said Deoris quietly, ‘that it is our fate and our duty to stay. Sit,’ she gestured imperiously. ‘Tiriki, I see now that I must tell you and Micail the rest of the story, and even you, Chedan, old friend. Great adept though you are, your teachers could not give you the parts of the story that they did not know.’
Reio-ta took a deep breath. ‘I…loved my brother.’ His gaze flickered toward Micail in momentary appeal. ‘Even in the Temple of Light…there have always been some who…served the darkness. We were…taken by the Black Robes who…sought for themselves the power of Ahtarrath. I agreed to let them use me…if they would spare him. They betrayed me, and tried to kill him. But Micon…forced himself to…live, long enough to sire you and pass to you his power.’ He looked at Micail again, struggling for words.
Tiriki gazed at them with quick compassion, understanding now why it was Micail, not Reio-ta, who held the magical heritage of his royal line. If Micon had died before his son was born, the powers of Ahtarrath would have descended to Reio-ta, and thereby to the black sorcerers who then held him in thrall…
‘They…broke…his body,’ stammered Reio-ta. ‘And…my mind. I did not know myself till…long after. Riveda took me in and I…helped him…’
Tiriki looked back at her mother. What did this have to do with the Man with Crossed Hands?
‘Reio-ta helped Riveda as a dog will serve the one who feeds him,’ Deoris said defensively, ‘not understanding what he did. I assisted Riveda because I loved the spirit in him that yearned to bring new life into the world. In the crypt beneath the Temple of Light there was an…image, whose form seemed different to each one who beheld it. To me, it always appeared as a bound god, crossed arms straining against his chains. But the image was a prison that confined the forces of chaos. Together we worked the rite that would release that power because Riveda thought that by unleashing that force he could wield the energies that power the world. But my sister forced me to tell her what we had done. The wards were already unraveling when Domaris went down into that dark crypt alone, at risk of life and limb, to repair them—’
‘All these things I knew,’ Chedan put in quietly. ‘The power of the Omphalos Stone can only slow the destructive forces unleashed by these rites long ago. The disintegration has been gradual, but it is still happening. We can only hope that when Atlantis falls, there will be an end.’
‘Didn’t Rajasta use to say, “To give in instead of fighting death is cowardice,”’ Micail put in, tartly.
‘But he would also say—’ Deoris replied with painful sweetness, ‘“When you break something, it is your duty to mend it, or at least sweep up the debris.” Although we meant no evil, we made the choices that brought it forth – we set in motion a chain of events that has doomed our way of life.’
A long moment passed in silence. The four of them sat as motionless as the carven friezes that framed the doorway.
‘We must stay because there is one final ritual to perform.’ By Reio-ta’s steady speech, they recognized the depth of his emotion. ‘When the Man with Crossed Hands breaks his chains, we who know him so well must confront him.’
‘Spirit to spirit we will address him,’ added Deoris, her great eyes shining. ‘There is no Power in the world without a purpose. The chaos that Dyaus brings shall be as a great wind that strips trees and scatters seeds far and wide. You are born to preserve those seeds, my children – glorious branches from the ageless tree of Atlantis, freed of its rot, free to take root in new lands. Perhaps