Binnesman smiled. “No, I can’t stop you. But others can stop you. The new King of the Earth has been ordained. You cannot prevail against him.

“I see hope for House Orden, but none for you.

“I did not come here to beg you yet again to join my cause,” Binnesman said. “I know you will not join me.

“But hear me well: I speak now in the name of the Power I serve: Raj Ahten, the Earth that gave you birth, the Earth that nurtured you as a mother and father, now rejects you! No longer will it nourish or protect you.

“I curse the ground you walk upon, that it will no longer give you sustenance! The stones of the earth shall trouble you. Accursed be your flesh, your bone, your sinew. Let your arms be weakened. Cursed be the fruit of your loins, that you leave no issue. Cursed be those who band themselves with you, that they too shall suffer your lot!

“I warn you: Leave this land!”

The Earth Warden spoke with such force that Orden expected some sign—the ground to sway and tremble or swallow Raj Ahten, or for stones to drop from the sky.

But the downs looked the same as ever, the sun still shone bright.

Earth does not kill, Orden knew. It does not destroy. And Orden could see that Binnesman had no wylde to back him, no power to effect some astonishing curse.

Or perhaps, in time, the effects of the wizard’s curse would be seen. Such curses were never given lightly, and old wives’ tales warned that they were the most potent form of magic. If that were true, Orden almost pitied Raj Ahten.

Yet, for the moment, nothing happened. Orden shouted a warning. “Binnesman, leave this battle. You can do nothing more.”

Binnesman turned up and looked at Orden, and there was such a look of anger there in the wizard’s eyes that Orden stepped back a pace.

As if Binnesman, too, suddenly recognized the danger, he turned his mount west, toward the Dunnwood, and fled.

45

THE CAVILING CAVALIER

Castle Groverman lay on a shallow, sandy mound on Mangon’s Heath, just where Wind River made a slow turn. It was not the stoutest castle in Heredon, nor the largest, but as Iome rode across the plains that morning, it seemed the most beautiful, with its sprawling grounds, its palatial towers, and its vast gates. The morning sun shone golden on the heather and on the yellow sandstone of the castle, so it gleamed like something molten.

Iome, her father, Gaborn, and the three Days swept over the heather, racing past herds of half-wild horses and cattle that startled away each time they crossed a line of hills.