Legacy of Kings Read Free

ravens, he knew, than to the morati. He accepted that. The beast that was within him would have it no other way. Once, long ago, he had tried to deny it, to pretend that he was still human. But the beast was a part of his soul now, wedded to him by his own willing submission, and was not so easily banished.
    If you understood the true source of our power, he thought, you would not question me thus.
    “There may once have been a morati named Colivar, who cared about this world.” He kept his voice carefully neutral, so that this stranger would not guess at the maelstrom of emotion that his words had inspired. “Perhaps he would even have been willing to offer up his life for it. But that man is dead now.” He turned back to the intruder. “We are what we are. Not all the sorcery in the world can change that.”
    “No,” the visitor agreed. It was maddening to Colivar how calm he was. Was this man’s inner beast weaker than his own, or was it just better disciplined? He had always wondered what the others of his kind experienced. Were their internal battles less fierce than his, because they were farther removed from the source? Or did they just hide them better? “Sorcery cannot change it.”
    “What, then?”
    “Something more powerful than sorcery. Something that the morati, ironically enough, understand the value of . . . though we have forgotten it.” He let Colivar consider that for a moment, then said, very quietly, “Law.”
    Colivar drew in a sharp breath. “You mean . . . what? Rules of engagement?”
    “No. Those are for wartime. This must be something more basic. More primal. Something to help us curb our darker instincts when they arise, so that open warfare will no longer be necessary. Or at least . . . .” A dry smile flickered across his lips. “Not quite so often.”
    “We are not morati,” he said harshly.
    “No . . . but that does not mean we cannot learn from their accomplishments. Rule of law is what separates the morati from the beasts. Perhaps it can do the same for us.”
    But a Magister’s beast is part of his soul , Colivar thought darkly. Divide the two, and you destroy both halves. This stranger did not understand that, of course. None of the other Magisters did. And he was not about to explain it to them. “How do you propose to enforce these laws?” he demanded. Trying to focus upon the stranger’s words, rather than the memories they conjured. “What manner of authority do you think that Magisters will accept?”
    “Common accord would be required.”
    For a moment Colivar was speechless. Finally he managed, “An agreement by . . . all of us?”
    The stranger bowed his head.
    “Even the morati could not manage such unanimity.”
    “We are greater than the morati, are we not?”
    Colivar shook his head in amazement. “There are some who would call you mad for even suggesting such a thing.”
    “Whereas I prefer to think of myself as practical.”
    We are incapable even of talking face-to-face with our own kind without bestial instincts taking control of us. What kind of law do you envision for us? How do you propose to punish transgressors?
    But those words died on his lips, unvoiced. Because the suggestion, mad as it was, struck a chord deep within him. A human chord. And for a moment—just a moment—the beast within him was quiet, and he could think with unexpected clarity.
    “This was your idea?” he managed at last.
    The stranger shook his head. “Not mine alone. But few are capable of spreading the word as effectively as I, so I volunteered. The task requires . . . .” A faint smile quirked his lips. “. . . . unusual self-control.”
    What if all the others join together in this project, Colivar thought suddenly, and I alone cannot ? He was suddenly acutely aware of the chasm that separated him from all the others of his kind. If this stranger knew the truth about him, would he have come here with the same offer? Would he even want