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couldn't see. It took over a year, but he sees."
"I have a friend who is blind," said Lenardo. "The optic nerves the nerves
from the eye to the brain did not develop normally. Could you ... ?" "Is he a
grown man?" "He's seventeen."
"No, I don't think anything could be done now. When a baby is developing and
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growing, it is relatively easy to correct such defects. I am sorry for your
friend."
"Torio would laugh at your pity. Fortunately, he is a Reader one of the best
I've ever known. One day he will be far better than I am."
"And how good are you, Lenardo?" They had stopped at the top of the stairs.
"What do you mean?" asked Lenardo.
"There are degrees of ability among Readers just as there are among Adepts,
Wulfston tells me. What is the level of your skills?"
As he hesitated, not wanting to tell her he had just been admitted to the
highest rank, she said, "No your ratings would be meaningless to me. Come into
my study."
She led him through her bedroom, where she paused to remove her earrings and
exchange the velvet surcoat for a worn and ink-stained robe, and into a
smaller room with large, many-paned windows of clear glass. The walls were
lined with books and scroll-cases as many, it appeared, as in the academy
library! So here was one savage who could read and write.
"You are a scholar?" he asked.
"One cannot go everywhere and experience everything. Books bring knowledge
one could never gather in a single lifetime. But of all these books, Lenardo,
many of them from the Aventine empire, not one explains the techniques of
Reading."
"It cannot be taught by books," he explained. "One learns to Read by
demonstration and experience."
"Very well. I want a demonstration."
"If you have not the talent "
She smiled. "No, I did not mean you could teach me to Read. I want to find
out how well you can do it." There was a table by the window, stacked with
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books and papers in uneven piles, a wax-encrusted candlestick holding down one
stack. There were a tablet and stylus, quills, ink all the supplies of a
scholar, in deplorable disorder.
Aradia picked up the wax tablet and, holding it so Lenardo could not see,
said 'Tell me what I am writing."
"I, Aradia, daughter of Nerius, heir to "
She stopped, turned the stylus, and rubbed out the words as she said, "I
suppose that's an easy trick."
"Yes, but it's not the easiest. The first sign of Reading ability is to pick
up another person's thoughts. I cannot touch yours, so I had to do a visual
Reading of what you wrote."
"Let's try something a bit harder. You see the large red-bound volume in the
middle of the top shelf?"
As there was only one book bound in red, he said, "Yes."
"Look at the first page I mean, Read the first page to me."
"I can't." "Oh," she said disappointedly.
"It's not that I can't Read it," explained Lenardo, "it's that I can't read
it. Although I speak your language, I have never learned your alphabet."
"Here," she said urgently, thrusting the wax tablet into his hands, "copy it
down! It doesn't matter if you don't know what it means!"
The tablet's surface did not show the rub-marks of the stylus; it was as
smooth as if the wax had been remelted. Concentrating, he began to copy the
characters in the book, letters made up all of straight lines, intended to be
carved, not written.
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Aradia watched avidly, until he had copied three lines. "That's enough," she
said and went to the bookcase, stretching up on tiptoe for the book. Just as
Lenardo was about to go reach it for her, it conveniently tilted forward and
fell into her hands.
Eagerly, she opened it to the first page and compared what was written there
with Lenardo's version. "You write with the precision of a scribe," she said.
"It's perfect."
She looked up at him, her face flushed. "Lenardo, if we could only work
together..."
"We can," he said, pressing his advantage. "Aradia, Drakonius is looking for
me. I assume that that means danger to you if he finds out where I am. I know
it means danger to me."
"How did he find out about you?" she asked suspiciously.
"His Reader knows me."
"Have you been in contact?"
"No. I've been too ill to search for him . . . and I do not know whether
Galen is working freely for Drakonius or is being forced to do so."
"Of course," she said. "How stupid of me. You came here seeking this other
Reader, Galen." She tilted her head, studying him. "To join him? Or to remove
him from your enemy's arsenal of weapons?"
"Whatever my original motivation," he replied, "I now see that he cannot be
left in Drakonius' power, even if he is there willingly. And that means I need
your help, Aradia. I will Read Drakonius for you if you will help me remove
Galen from his power."
"You realize that I am trying to extricate my people and myself from
Drakonius' power?"
"I had surmised as much."
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She searched his face, and he could feel empathically how her longing to
trust him deepened. Then she said, "I am powerless to move against Drakonius.
He knows that. I dare not leave my father for more than a day at a time. I
cannot lead my army, even in defense . . . unless you will help me."
'To do what?"
"To cure my father!"
"Aradia, there's no way "
"You can Read the exact location of his tumor, and I can remove it!"
"No, Aradia. My surgical skills are good enough for emergency measures, but
even the finest surgeon dare not cut into the human brain. It would kill your
father at once."
"Cut into ? What are you talking about?"
"Removing the tumor."
"By cutting? No, Lenardo! I am an Adept. I shall just remove it! You must
draw it for me, or make a model hi wax. It must be exact even more precise
than these letters  but you can do it, can't you?"
"I... don't know," he replied, caught up in the idea. "I said I would help
you with healing but this. If you were off by a hair's breadth, you would kill
him. The shock might kill him anyway."
"He is dying, Lenardo! If we do nothing, he will be dead within the
fortnight." She lowered her eyes. "For three days I have been strengthening
his body again, hoping you could do ... what you have proved today. You are
fully recovered, are you not?"
"No. You don't understand the precision required. I would have to fast and
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meditate " "How long?" "At least two days."
"Then start now!" Her eyes were glittering with tears. Lenardo saw his chance
of gaining Aradia and Wulf-ston as allies.
It was not mere selfishness, though, he realized; he wanted to use his
abilities in this strange new way to save a life, but he wondered what Aradia
would do to him if he failed. She looked so frail and delicate, and she
commanded such power. He could circumvent any command she planted hi his mind,
but he could do nothing against physical attack. He remembered Wulfston
saying, "The best thing I could do would be to stop your heart right now."
Dared he risk his life now that he knew where Galen was? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]