The Sleeper Sword Read Online Free Page B

since arriving, and he made his way there,
skirting the paths and ways of the garden it bordered. The Palace
occupied near half the island, the eastern half, and the rest was a
paradise landscape.
    A paradise
prison, he sometimes thought, when he was particularly
despondent.
    He strolled to
the western tip of the island.
    A bridge
linked Valla Island with the next one in the chain and under the
width a broad jetty spanned the water, with a narrow central
passage. Sailing vessels of many varieties were tied there, bobbing
with the motion of a calm current. He stepped onto the bridge and
walked a distance, stopping eventually to lean against the rails.
The ocean sang with the kind of objective kindness that soothed the
soul.
    The continent
underwent spring thaw, but out here the winds and currents were
kinder. There was a nip to the air, but spring had come. The
evidence was all around - blossoms, newborn chicks, the return of
bees and butterflies. Not that winter was harsh in the islands - it
never snowed, although it could get cold. It certainly rained and
that was welcome, as tanks were replenished with satisfying
regularity, even in summer.
    He stared
fixedly at the water. A movement at the edge of the bridge caught
his attention, but he did not react. His shadow merely did his
duty.
    The Elders
agreed with him. The majority would move to Luvanor.
    It was a truth
they did not fight his directive. Perhaps they were frustrated with
island life also. A number of them recalled the days of the
Enchanter on the mainland and disliked this exile. They would go,
but exacted a promise from their Vallorin to recall them if he returned. They loved a long ago Vallorin more, and he did
not begrudge them.
    Torrullin, by
all accounts, had been a charismatic and attracted loyalty few
could equal. The Elders and the Valleur loved him, Torrullin’s
grandson, but it was not the same and he was glad. He did not think
he had the strength to survive that kind of pedestal.
    The rest of
the Elders, island-born, had been to Luvanor and were desirous of
the freedom afforded. Two, Kismet and Caballa, would remain at the
Palace and see to his duties when he was himself absent on Luvanor.
Those two knew Torrullin and refused to abandon Valaris.
    Vania and
Teroux would make the transition. Vania said not a word. He hoped
she would at least be happier there.
    His thoughts
returned to his disturbing dreams. The Lifesource Temple occupied
most of the adjacent island; perhaps he should enter. Who was he
fooling? The Temple was more Q’lin’la than it was Valleur, and the
Q’lin’la had been in the Forbidden Zone for over a century, with
infrequent visits to Valaris. Without the birdman Quilla to aid him
within the Temple, his wanderings there would prove pointless.
    The Three
Gates would do the trick. He mulled that. He would need to uncloak
them. They were off the south-western point of the mainland and
thus safe from view. He would need someone to explain what to do,
someone with experience. It was not the uncloaking he needed help
with - it was the workings of the Gates themselves.
    Kismet or
Caballa? Kismet would be less judgemental and it would be easier to
convince the man a site required uncloaking after two millennia,
but Caballa would assist in interpreting his dreams and would also
be direct in her analysis. Maybe he would ask both of them, the two
a foil for each other. He would talk to them in the morning.
    Feeling better
for having reached a decision, Tannil turned for the Palace. He
headed over the grass to stride along the beach, deep in thought.
Stumbling as he reached the stone steps from the beach to the
Palace, he stopped in consternation.
    A large stone
and shell circle was laid out on the sand, the stones round, the
shells the spiralling variety, and all of them of a size. The upper
curve touched the bottom of the first step, as if to waylay him,
and then wound out to touch the lapping ocean before returning. It
was a perfect circle