When the young Alizondern arose to answer, it was almost as if his white hair shown silver. His hands moved in the traditional formal gestures of his kind even as he answered.
“To the ignorant belongs fear, Lord Marshal. I have learned what one of my blood might never have known had not chance and my curiosity transported me into your Lormt. We are a country of treachery, hatred, and spying. There are those among us who will never accept even a truce with you. But those are the elder lords for the most part, and they are ever at each other’s throats. There is an easier way to gain rulership than by steel and poison, and it is one I am trying to learn.
“There is one here to whom I owe an honor debt.” He looked down into the company below. “My sister Liara has taught me that the fabled line of the great mage does run true in us. If she wishes—chooses—I offer her great danger but also a part in change.”
Slowly the girl arose from where she had been seated.
“You are Hound Master of the House,” she said clearly. “If I be in truth Hearthmistress at present under that roof . . .” she hesitated. “I am Alizondern, knowing the tricks and terrors which assault all our houses. Somehow I believe that I am indeed the one to stand behind you.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Beside me, as the first Lady of our line stood beside her Lord when all others would pull him down. Though I trust it will not come to that end for us.”
“What of the Dales, Lord Imry?” Koris asked.
The dark-haired man who appeared to wear a permanent line of frown—or anxiety—between his eyes replied slowly.
“The Dales have suffered in the past by ever bickering. We fell to Alizon at first because each lord would fight only for his own holding. This is a lesson now held ever before us. By the end of this season we shall hold a conference to decide some matters. Commander Terlach”—he inclined his head toward a Falconer in the crowd—“has already cleared outlaws from the north hills as far as Quayth. We shall listen to him, a master of the trade of leading men.”
“Thus be it,” Koris said slowly, each word carrying with it nearly the force of an oath. “Always the Dark will rise—for it cannot be entirely driven from any world of man—and then the Light must arm for battle. But no longer need we fear that any outlander evil can burst or creep upon us unaware, perhaps summoned by some perverted talent. For we have Powers of our own, more and stronger than we may now know, just as we have discovered parts of our world before unknown. Perhaps it is now our duty to further that knowledge of both land and sea beyond the maps and charts. We must ever strive to learn more and put what is so learned to proper use.
“This I say, and all here will agree: once more there has been a Turning. Mountains may not have walked, but rather Powers. And from this time forward we shall search and stand sentinel. The old gives way to new, and it is in my reckoning good will come of this and we shall prosper.”
He was silent for a long moment and then said—as one who makes a solemn promise:
“The gates are closed.”
Andre Norton, The Warding of Witch World
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