Hart's Hope Read Free

tell two kinds of truth. Words can name you, and words can say what you will do before you do it.”
    â€œAnd which will you do?”
    â€œTo name a man is to say what he will do before he does it. So I will name you, Palicrovol. You are King of Burland.”
    Suddenly Count Palicrovol grew afraid. “I am Count of Traffing.”
    â€œThe people hate King Nasilee. They have given him their life’s blood, and he has given them only poverty and terror. They long for someone to set them free from this burden.”
    â€œThen go to a man with armies.” If Nasilee heard that Palicrovol had even listened to this Godsman, it would be the end of the house of Traffing.
    â€œGeneral Zymas will come to you and follow you to the day he dies.”
    â€œWhich will be very soon, if he dares to rebel against the King.”
    â€œOn the contrary,” said the Godsman. “Three hundred years from now you and Zymas and Sleeve will all be alive, with a man’s life yet ahead of you.”
    Sleeve laughed. “Since when does your magic-hating god give gifts to a poor wizard?”
    â€œFor every day that you’re glad of the gift, there will be five days when you hate it.”
    Palicrovol leaned forward. “I should have you killed.”
    â€œWhat would be the point? I’m only a poor old man, and when God lets go of my body, I will know even less than you do.”
    Sleeve shook his head. “There is no poetry in this man’s prophecy.”
    â€œTrue,” said Palicrovol. “But there’s a tale in it.”
    â€œThis is not a prophecy,” said the Godsman. “This is your name. Zymas will come to you, and in the name of God you will conquer. You will enter the city of Hart’s Hope and the King’s daughter will ride the hart for you. You will build a new temple of God and you will name the city Inwit, and no other god will be worshipped there. And this above all: You will not be safe upon the throne until King Nasilee and his daughter Asineth are dead.”
    These words spoken, the Godsman shuddered, his jaw went slack, and the light departed from his eyes. He began to look about him in tired surprise. This had no doubt happened to him before, but plainly he was not yet used to finding himself in strange places—particularly in the midst of a very serious Feast of Hinds.
    â€œWhat bright servants this god chooses for himself,” said Sleeve.
    Palicrovol did not laugh. The fire that had left the old man’s eyes had left a spark in Palicrovol. “Here before you all,” he said, “I will tell you what I have not dared to say before. I hate King Nasilee and all his acts, and for the sake of all Burland I long to see him driven from the throne.”
    At these treasonous words, especially spoken at the Feast of Hinds, his own men grew still and watched him warily.
    â€œIt is good that we love you,” said Sleeve. “We will all keep silence and tell no one that you spoke against King Nasilee. And we will pray to the Hart that you will not be seduced by the flattery of a strange and jealous god.”
    Sleeve’s words counseled against rebellion, but Palicrovol had learned that Sleeve’s words rarely gave Sleeve’s meaning. Sleeve might mean that it was already too late for Palicrovol to change his mind, for now he would live in constant fear of betrayal by someone who had heard his words. And as to the Godsman’s prophecy of victory, was Sleeve doubting? Or testing? Palicrovol looked at the unnaturally white face of the wizard, his transparent skin, his hair as fine and pale as spiderweb. How can I read your strange face? Palicrovol wondered. Even as he wondered, he knew that Sleeve did not mean his face to be read. Sleeve probed others, but was not himself probed; Sleeve comprehended, but remained incomprehensible. “You came to me for no reason I could understand,” said Palicrovol. “Until now. You