An older woman, with silver hair piled above a face which, typical of her kind, showed none of the less attractive signs of age we humans so frequently display, emerged from a small door on the right. “So you were persuaded to come to us, Prince Flamadin,” she said warmly. “I am most grateful.”
Alisaard introduced Ulric von Bek and explained a little of the circumstances. The older woman wore flowing red and gold. She welcomed us and said she was known as the Announcer Elect, Phalizaarn. “But of course nobody has explained to you why we were seeking you, Prince Flamadin.”
“I had the impression, Lady Phalizaarn, that you wanted the help of my sister, Sharadim.”
She was surprised. She signed for us to go ahead of her through a door and into a conservatory full of the most magnificent blooms. “How did you know of that?”
“I have a certain sixth sense in these matters, my lady. Is it true?”
She paused beside a purple rhododendron. I seemed to have embarrassed her. “It is true, Prince Flamadin, that some of our number have tried—through unconventional means—to summon your sister to them, or at least ask for her help. They were not forbidden to do this, but in general it was disapproved by everyone, including the Council. It seemed an unlikely and barbaric means of approaching the Princess Sharadim.”
“These women do not, then, represent all the Eldren?”
“Simply a faction.” The Announcer Elect looked a little quizzically at Alisaard, who dropped her gaze. It was clear to me that Alisaard was, or had been, one of those women who sought my sister by “barbaric” means. Yet why had she rescued me from Armiad? Why had she sought me out at all?
I thought it fair to say something on Alisaard’s behalf. “I must tell you, madam, that I am used to such incantations.” I smiled at Alisaard, who had looked up in mild surprise. “It is not the first time I, myself, have been called across the barriers of the worlds. But what puzzles me is why I should have heard the call for Sharadim.”
“Because Sharadim is not whom we sought,” said Alisaard simply. “I must admit that until yesterday I was prepared to insist that the oracle had misled us. I was convinced that no human male could have the rapport with the Eldren which was needed if we were to proceed. Of course we knew of you both. Knew that you were twins. We assumed the oracle had spoken of Flamadin in mistake for Sharadim.”
“There were many heated debates on the matter,” said Lady Phalizaarn gently. “In this very hall.”
“The night before last,” Alisaard continued, “we attempted once more to call Sharadim. We thought that there was no better place to do this than at the Massing Ground. We were aware of the power flowing in us by then. It was stronger than ever. We lit our fire, we linked arms, we concentrated. And for the first time we had a vision of the one we sought. You can imagine, I am sure, whose face it was.”
“You saw Prince Flamadin,” said Lady Phalizaarn, evidently trying to disguise the satisfaction in her voice. “And then you saw him in the flesh…”
“We remembered that you had commissioned Helmswoman Danifel to approach Prince Flamadin if he was at the Massing. We went to her and admitted that we had been mistaken. Together, as you can see, we went to visit Prince Flamadin. We were forced to go secretly because of the nature of the Massing and the character of the brute who is Baron Captain of the particular hull where Prince Flamadin and his friend were guesting. To our complete astonishment we arrived to discover that Prince Flamadin and Count von Bek were in the process of attempting escape. So we helped them.”
“Alisaard,” said Lady Phalizaarn softly, “did you think to invite Prince Flamadin to Gheestenheem? Did you give him the choice?”
“In the heat of the moment, I forgot, Lady Announcer Elect. I apologise to all. We thought we might be pursued.”
“Pursued?”
“By the bloodthirsty enemies from whom Alisaard saved us,” said von Bek quickly. “We owe you our lives, madam. And, of course, we should have accepted your invitation had it been extended.”
Lady Phalizaarn smiled. She, too, was evidently charmed by my friend’s old German courtesy. “You are a natural courtier, Count von Bek. Or perhaps a natural diplomat is a better choice.”
“I would prefer the latter, my lady. We von Beks have never been overfond of monarchs. We even had one member of our family serve in the revolutionary French National Assembly!”
Again the words were meaningless. I could understand them but they were like a foreign language to the others. One day von Bek would learn, as I had learned, to carry on a conversation without reference to the existence of our Earth or its twentieth century.
“I still have no notion of what you want from me,” I said politely. “I assure you, my lady, I am here most willingly, given that all others appear to be against me, but I will be frank with you. I have no real memory of being Prince Flamadin. It is only a matter of a few days since I first inhabited his body. If Flamadin has knowledge that you need, then I am afraid I’m likely to disappoint you.”
At this the Lady Phalizaarn beamed. “I am most relieved to hear that, Prince Flamadin. The accuracy of our ‘oracle’, as Alisaard insists it be called, is further confirmed. But you shall hear all when the full Council convenes. It is not for me to speak until I am given instructions to do so.”
“When does the Council convene?” I asked her.
“This afternoon. You are at liberty to explore our capital if you will, or to rest. We have chambers here which have been set aside for you. Anything you need in the way of food or clothing, please let us know. I am exceedingly pleased to see you here, Prince Flamadin. I had thought it almost too late!”
On this mysterious note we were dismissed. Alisaard showed us to the rooms which had been prepared for me. “You were not expected, Count von Bek, so it will take a little while to make ready your accommodation. Meanwhile there are two adjoining chambers, with a couch large enough for even a man of your size.”
I opened the door. “This is what I’m interested in,” I said delightedly. It was a huge bathtub, rather reminiscent of the old Victorian kind, though it had no obvious plumbing attached to it. “Is there perhaps some way we can obtain hot water?”
She indicated something I had mistaken for a bell rope hanging to one side of the tub. “Two tugs for hot,” she said. “One for cold.”
“How does the water reach the bath?” I wanted to know.
“Through the pipes.” She pointed at a peculiar kind of plug near one end of the bath. “And up through there.” She spoke to me as if I were some kind of barbarian being introduced to civilised amenities.
“Thanks,” I said. “No doubt I’ll soon learn how to work it.”
The soap she handed me was a kind of abrasive powder, but it softened well enough in the water. My first blast of hot water almost killed me. I learned that she had forgotten to tell me that it was three tugs for a mixture…
Von Bek had been talking to Alisaard while I bathed. She had left by the time it was his turn to use the tub. He had the benefit of my new wisdom where the water was concerned. As he soaped himself he rattled on cheerfully. “I asked Alisaard if her race and humans can normally interbreed. She thinks it unlikely, though she can only speak from her own experience. Apparently this method they have isn’t all that simple. She said that ‘a great deal of alchemy’ is involved. Presumably they make use of chemicals, other agents. Some form of artificial insemination, perhaps?”
“I’ve no understanding of such matters, unfortunately. But the Eldren were always clever with medicines. What puzzles me is how the women came to be separated from the men and if these people are the descendants of those I knew or are they, perhaps, their ancestors?”
“Now I find you hard to follow,” von Bek admitted. He began to whistle some popular jazz song of his time (which was a few years before my own, as John Daker).
The rooms were furnished in much the same style as the rest of the Council House, with large pieces of carved hardwood furniture, ta
pestries, rugs. There was a great quilt flung across my bed which, by the workmanship, must have taken fifty years to make. More flowers filled the place and the windows looked down into a courtyard with a gravel walk, a green lawn and a fountain at the centre. The mood of tranquility was thus maintained. I felt I could cheerfully settle amongst these people. But I knew it was not to be. Again came a pang of almost physical agony. How I longed for my Ermizhad!
“Well,” said von Bek later as he towelled himself, “if I did not have urgent business with the Chancellor of Germany, I would find this Barobanay an excellent place for a holiday. Eh?”
“Oh, indeed,” I replied absently. “However, von Bek, I think we’ll be busy soon enough. These women seem to think it a matter of urgency, our coming here. I still find it hard to understand, however, why Sharadim was called and not me. Did Alisaard offer you any further explanation?”
“A matter of principle, I think. She did not wish to believe that a human male could be of any use to them at all! I suppose that’s based on her experience. And then, of course, there was the business of the murder, or the probable murder.”
“What? The murder they say I attempted? Do they think now that I actually succeeded in killing my twin sister?”
“Oh, no, of course not.” Von Bek rubbed at his hair. “Weren’t you present when Alisaard mentioned that? Apparently Prince Flamadin is almost certainly dead. The story put out from the Draachenheem is the reverse of the truth. Flamadin seems to have been murdered on the direct instructions of Sharadim!” Von Bek found this amusing. He laughed and slapped me on the shoulder. “It’s a turning world, eh, my friend?”
“Oh, aye,” I agreed as my heart began to pound again. “A turning world indeed…”
2
“WE SHOULD FIRST tell you,” said the Lady Phalizaarn, rising from amongst the seated women, “that we are in grave danger. For many years we have been attempting to seek out our own folk, the Eldren, and rejoin them. Our method of maintaining our race is, as I am sure you can imagine, distasteful to us. Admittedly our purchased males are well treated and given almost all the privileges of the community, but it is an unnatural business. We would rather procreate through union with those who had a choice in the matter. Of late we have embarked upon a series of experiments, designed to locate our people. Once we have located them, we believe, we will find a means of rejoining them. However, we have made a number of unlikely discoveries. What is more, we have been forced to compromise and, finally, some of our number have taken a wrong direction. Now, for instance, your sister Sharadim knows a great deal more than we would have revealed, had we understood her character.”
“You must illuminate me as to that,” I said. Von Bek and I were seated, cross-legged, in front of the women, most of whom were of a similar age to Phalizaarn, though some were younger and one or two older. Alisaard was not present. Neither were any of the others who had rescued us from Armiad’s hull.
“We shall,” the Announcer Elect promised. But first she intended to describe briefly her people’s history; how as a handful of survivors they had been driven further and further into hiding by the numerous forces of barbarian humans. Eventually they decided to escape into another realm where the Mabden could not follow. There they would begin life again. They had explored certain other worlds. Yet they wished to find one where humans had not settled. They devised a means of reaching such a world. Earlier explorers had brought back with them two great beasts whose own curiosity had led them to follow the explorers. It was already known that these beasts had some means of returning to their own world—of creating a new gateway through to it between the barriers. The Eldren planned to release the beasts and then follow them through. The creatures were not antagonistic towards the Eldren. Indeed, there was a kind of mutual respect between them which was hard to define. The Eldren felt they would have no difficulty living in the same world as the beasts. So it was that one party followed the male beast through the gateway it made. The second party, of women, were to follow a little later, when the men had made certain it was safe. So they waited and, hearing of no danger, they sent the female beast through. However, they were following in her wake when suddenly she vanished. There was a sense of struggle, a sense that the beast was trying to warn them of something, and then they had found themselves in this world. Somehow the beast which was to lead them to safety had either lost her way or been abducted.
“Somehow the gateway had shifted. The multiverse intersects like cogs in a clock. One tick of the pendulum and you find yourself in an entirely different world, perhaps many times removed from the one you sought. That is what happened to us. Until recently we never knew what became of the beast who was supposed to lead us through. In order to survive we were forced to use our knowledge of alchemy so that we could breed with males who had wandered here from human dimensions. At length we discovered we could buy such males from various traders in the Six Realms. Only at the Massing do all the realms intersect. At times, however, it is not difficult to visit perhaps one or two others whenever we choose. Meanwhile we have devoted ourselves to a study of what constitutes the multiverse, of how and when certain realms cross one another’s orbits. By means of our psychics, the same as those who contacted you, mistaking you for Sharadim, we have communicated very occasionally with our menfolk. It became clear that the only way to reach them was to find the beast which had intended to lead us through in the first place. Then a further disturbing problem came a few years ago. We discovered that the herbs we use in our alchemy to perpetuate ourselves were becoming rapidly scarcer. We do not know why. Perhaps a simple climatic change. We can grow plants very similar to them in our special gardens, but they do not have exactly the same properties. Therefore we have very few sources of supply left to us. We have almost no children. Soon we shall have none. Our race will perish. That is why our quest for help grew more urgent. Then came one to us who said that he knew where our beast could be found, but that only one creature in the whole multiverse was both fitted and fated to find her. He called this creature the Champion Eternal.”
Another woman spoke from where she sat on the floor. “We did not know if it were male or female, human or Eldren. All we had was the Actorios. The stone.”
“He told us we should find you by means of that stone,” said Phalizaarn. From a pouch at her hips she drew it out, displaying it on the flat of her hand. “Do you recognise it?”
Something within me knew the stone, but no memory would come to me. I made a helpless gesture.
Phalizaarn smiled. “Well, it seems to know you.”
The jewel, all smoky darkness, full of restless, nameless colours, seemed almost to writhe in her palm. I felt a great need for it. I wanted to reach out and take it from her but I restrained myself.
“It is yours,” said a voice from behind me. Both von Bek and I turned. “It is yours. Take it.”
No longer in black and yellow, but in enfolding purple, the black giant Sepiriz looked down at me with a kind of amused compassion. “It will always be yours, wherever you see it,” he continued. “Take it. It will help you. It has served its turn here.”
The stone was warm. It felt like flesh. I shivered as I held it in my fist. It seemed to send a thrill of energy through me. “Thank you.” I bowed to the Announcer Elect and to Sepiriz. I placed the stone in my belt purse. “Are you their oracle, Sepiriz? Do you bind them about with mysteries as you do me?” I could only speak with affection.
“That Actorios will one day sit in the Ring of Kings,” said the giant. “And you shall wear it. But for now there is a more immediate game to play. A game, John Daker, which could earn you at least part of what you most desire.”
“Not a very specific promise, Sir Knight.”
He accepted this. “It is only in certain matters that I dare be specific. The balance is singularly fine just now. I would not tip it. Not at this stage. Did my Lady Phalizaarn describe their lost she-beast?”
“I can remember the incantation ve
ry clearly,” I told him. “It was a firedrake. A dragon. And it is held prisoner, I take it. They seemed to want me—or Sharadim—to release the creature. Is it trapped in some world which only I can visit?”
“Not exactly. It is trapped in an object which only you are entitled to handle…”
“That damned sword!” I stepped backward, violently shaking my head. “No! No, Sepiriz, I will not bear it again! The Black Sword is evil. I do not like what it makes of me.”
“This is not the same sword,” he said calmly. “Not in this aspect. Some say the twin blades are the same. Some say they have a thousand forms. I do not believe that. The blade was forged to accept what we would call a soul—a spirit, a demon, whatever you like—and it was by unhappy coincidence that the she-dragon became trapped there, filling the vacuum, as it were, within the blade.”
“Those dragons are surely monstrous. And the blade—”
“Simple matters of Space and Time are scarcely relevant to the forces of which I speak and of which you must know something,” said Sepiriz, raising his hand. “The sword had but lately been forged. Those who had made it had not quite finished their work. The blade was, as it were, cooling. There was a massive movement throughout the multiverse. Chaos and Law even then fought for possession of the blade and its twin. Dimensions were warped, whole histories were altered in a space of moments, the very laws of nature were changed. It was then that the dragon—the second dragon—attempted to fling herself through the barriers between the realms and burst through to her own world. It was an unaccounted-for coincidence. As a result of those huge disturbances, she became trapped within the sword. No incantation could release her. The blade had been designed to be inhabited. Once possessed it could only release that which dwelled within it under certain portentous circumstances. And only you can release the dragon. It is a very powerful object, even without you. In the wrong hands it could damage everything we value, perhaps destroy it for ever. Sharadim herself believes in the sword. She heard the voices calling her. She asked certain questions and received certain answers. Now she would own that thing of power. Her plan is to rule all Six Realms of the Wheel. With the Dragon Sword she could easily have her way.”