“How did you learn that she was evil?” I asked Sepiriz. “Amongst the folk of the Six Realms—or at least most of them—she is regarded as a paragon of virtue.”
The Lady Phalizaarn spoke. “That is very simple. We made the discovery recently, after a trading expedition to the Draachenheem. We bought a batch of males, all of whom had been employed at Court. Many were nobles. To silence them, Sharadim had sold them to us. It frequently happens—since we are supposed to eat the men we buy—that we become a convenient means of disposing of unwanted people. Some of those men had actually witnessed Sharadim poisoning the wine she offered you on your return from whatever quest it was you had been on. She bribed some of the courtiers to side with her. The others she had arrested as conspirators, henchmen of Flamadin, and sold to us.”
“Why did she want to poison me?”
“You had refused to marry her. You hated her cunning and her cruelty. For years she had encouraged you to go adventuring abroad. This suited your temperament and she assured you that the kingdom was safe with her. Gradually, however, you began to realise what she was doing, how she was corrupting everything you believed noble in order to prepare the Draachenheem for war against the other realms. You swore you would tell all at the next Massing. Meanwhile she understood something of what the Eldren women had said. She realised that it was you they really sought. She had several motives for murdering you.”
“Then how am I here now?”
“That is puzzling, I agree. Several of the men here saw you in death. Stiff and bloodless, they said.”
“And what became of my corpse?”
“Some believe Sharadim still has possession of it. That she practises the most disgusting rites upon it…”
“That leaves the question ‘Who am I?’” I said. “If I am not Prince Flamadin.”
“But you are Prince Flamadin,” said Sepiriz. “All agree on that matter. What they cannot decide is how you escaped…”
“So you wish me to seek out this sword? And what then?”
“It must be brought to the Massing Ground. The Eldren women will know what to do.”
“Do you know where the sword may be found?”
“We have rumours only. It has changed hands more than once. Most who have attempted to put it to their own purposes have died quite terrible deaths as a result.”
“Then why not let Sharadim find it? When she is dead, I can bring the sword to you…”
“Your jests were never your strength, Champion,” said Sepiriz almost sadly. “Sharadim may have some means of controlling the blade. She may have devised a method by which she can make herself invulnerable to the sword’s particular curse. She is neither stupid nor ignorant. She will know how to make the best use of the sword once she finds it. Already she has sent out her minions to gather information.”
“She knows more, then, than you do, Lord Sepiriz?”
“She knows something. And that is more than enough.”
“Am I to try to reach the sword before she does? Or am I to stop her by some means? You are unclear as to what you expect of me, my lord.”
Sepiriz could tell that I was resisting him. I had no wish to set eyes on another sword like the Black Sword, let alone put a hand upon one.
“I expect you to fulfill your destiny, Champion.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You shall never know even a hint of freedom for eternity upon eternity. You shall suffer more terribly than those whom your selfishness will consign to everlasting horror. Chaos plays a part in this. Have you heard of the Archduke Balarizaaf? He is a most ambitious Lord of Chaos. Sharadim is negotiating with him, offering an alliance. If Chaos claims the Six Realms it will mean nothing but hideous destruction, frightful agony for the conquered peoples, Eldren or human. Sharadim cares only for power, whereby she can indulge her perverse whims. She’s a fitting medium for the Archduke Balarizaaf. And he, better than she, understands the significance of the sword.”
“So this is a matter between Law and Chaos?” I said. “And I am chosen to fight for Law this time.”
“It is the Will of the Balance,” said Sepiriz with a note of unwonted piety in his deep voice.
“Well, I trust you as cheerfully as I trust any of your ilk,” I told him. “I can do very little else. But I will do nothing unless you tell me that what I do will aid these Eldren women, for it is to the Eldren, not any great cosmic force, that I feel my greatest loyalty. If I succeed, will they be reunited with their men?”
“That I can promise you,” said Sepiriz. He seemed impressed by my statement rather than resentful of it.
“Then I shall do my best to find the Dragon Sword and release its prisoner,” I agreed.
“I have your oath on that now,” said Sepiriz with satisfaction. He seemed to be making a mental note. He also seemed somewhat relieved.
Von Bek stepped forward. “Forgive this interruption, gentlemen, but I would be much obliged if you could tell me if I, too, have a preordained destiny or if I am to do my best to make my own way home?”
Sepiriz placed a hand on the Saxon count’s right arm. “My young friend, matters are far simpler where you are concerned and I can speak plainer. If you continue with this quest and aid the Champion to fulfill his destiny, you will, I promise, achieve what you most desire.”
“The destruction of Hitler and his Nazis?”
“I swear it.”
It was difficult for me to remain silent. I already knew the Nazis had been defeated. But it then occurred to me that perhaps they might have succeeded, that it had been von Bek and myself who had been responsible for the destruction of the fascists. I had some faint understanding, now, of why Sepiriz was bound to speak in mysteries. He had more than a knowledge of the future. He had a knowledge of a million different futures, a million different worlds, a million ages…
“Very well,” von Bek was saying, “then I shall continue with this, at least for the time being.”
“Alisaard will also go with you,” said the Lady Phalizaarn. “She has volunteered, since she was one of those responsible for revealing too much to Sharadim. And, of course, you will take the men.”
“The men? Which men?” Foolishly I looked about me.
“Sharadim’s exiled courtiers,” she said.
“Why should I want them with me?”
“As witnesses,” put in Sepiriz, “since your first task is to go at once to Draachenheem and face your sister with an accusation and your evidence. If she is ousted from power, it will make your task considerably easier.”
“You think we could do that? Three of us and a handful of men?”
“You have no choice,” said Sepiriz gravely. “It is the first task you must accomplish if you would find the Dragon Sword. There is no better beginning. By confronting your evil twin, Sharadim, you will set the pattern for the rest of your quest. Remember, Champion, we forge time and matter as a consequence of our actions. That is one of the few constants in the multiverse. It is we who impose logic, for our own survival. Make it a good pattern and you shall come a step closer to achieving the destiny you most desire…”
“Destiny!” My grin had no humour in it. For a moment I rebelled. I almost turned and walked from the hall, telling Sepiriz that I would have no more of it. I was sick of his mysteries and his destinies.
But then I looked into the faces of those Eldren women and I saw, hidden beneath the grace and dignity, both anguish and desperation. I paused. These were the people I had elected to serve against my own race. I could not refuse them now.
For my love of Ermizhad, not for Sepiriz and all his oratory, I would take the road to Draachenheem and there give challenge to evil.
“We shall leave in the morning,” I promised.
3
THERE WERE TWELVE of us in the small boat as it entered the columns of light and was drawn back into the tunnel between the worlds. Alisaard, again in her ivory armour, steered while the rest of us clung to the sides and gaped. The other nine
were all nobles of Draachenheem. Two of them were Land Princes, rulers of whole nations, who had been abducted the night Flamadin was apparently murdered. Four others were elected Sheriffs of great cities and three had been squires at Court who had seen the poison administered. “Many others are dead,” the Land Prince Ottro, an older man with heavy facial scarring, told me. “But she could not make everyone a corpse, so we were sold to the Gheestenheemers. Just think—we shall be the first to return.”
“Though sworn to secrecy,” young Federit Shaus reminded him. “We owe these Eldren women more than our lives.”
All nine agreed with this. They had taken an oath to say nothing of the true nature of the Gheestenheem.
The boat raced on through the weird rainbow light, occasionally bucking and swerving, as if it had struck resistance, but never slackening her speed. Then quite suddenly we were bobbing on blue water again, surging between two columns and then the wind had caught our sail and we were upon an ordinary salt ocean, with a clear sky overhead and a good strong breeze behind us.
Two of the Draachenheemers consulted a map with Alisaard, giving her some idea of our position. We were going straight to Valadeka, land of the Valadek, home of Sharadim and Flamadin. Some of the Draachenheemers had wanted to return to their own lands, to gather up their armies and march against Sharadim, but Sepiriz had insisted we go directly to Valadeka.
Now a coastline came in sight. We saw great black cliffs framed against the pale sky. They were almost like the cliffs in my dreams. We saw spray and rocks and very few places where a boat could land.
“It is Valadeka’s great strength,” Madvad of Drane, a blackhaired fellow with enormous eyebrows, informed me. “As an island she is virtually invulnerable to sea-attack. Her few good harbours are well guarded.”
“Must we land in one of them?” von Bek wished to know.
Madvad shook his head. “We know of a small cove where, at certain tides, it is possible to land. That’s what we seek now.”
It was almost nightfall by the time we were able to land on the cold shingle of a narrow beach surrounded by black granite crags and overlooked by the ruins of an ancient castle. The boat was dragged into a cave and one of the squires, Ruberd of Hanzo, led us through a series of secret openings and up a flight of old steps until we were standing amongst the crumbled stone of the abandoned fortress.
“One of our noblest families once lived here,” Ruberd said. “Your own ancestors, Prince Flamadin.” He paused as if in embarrassment. “Or should I say simply ‘Prince Flamadin’s ancestors’? You say you are not yourself, my lord, yet I would still swear you are our Chosen Prince…”
I had seen no point in deceiving these honest people. I had told them as much of the truth as I felt they could comprehend.
“There’s a village nearby, is there not?” asked old Ottro. “Let’s get there quickly. I could do with some victuals and a jug of beer. We plan to rest overnight, do we not, and continue on horseback in the morning?”
“The early morning.” Gently I reminded him of our plan. “We must reach Rhetalik by noon tomorrow, when you said Sharadim is to have herself crowned Empress.” Rhetalik was the capital of Valadeka.
“Certainly, young quasi-prince,” he assured me. “I’m well aware of the urgency. But one thinks and acts better if one is fed and rested.”
With myself and Alisaard swathed in cloaks so that we should not excite the villagers’ curiosity overmuch, we found a tavern large enough to accommodate our party. Indeed, the innkeeper was delighted at this unseasonal bonus. We had plenty of the local money and were generous with it. We dined and slept in great comfort and had our pick of the best horses the next morning. Then we were riding again for Rhetalik. We must have made a strange enough sight to the Valadekans with myself in the leathers of a marsh-hunter, von Bek in a shirt, jacket and trousers roughly resembling what he had worn when I first saw him (made for him by the Eldren who had also furnished him with gloves, boots and a wide-brimmed hat), two of the Draachenheemers in the full, multicoloured silks and woolens of their clans, four others in borrowed ivory armour, and three wearing a mixture of clothing selected from the store offered by the Eldren. I rode at the head of this strange little band, with von Bek on one side and Alisaard on the other. She was wearing her helm almost as a matter of habit. The Eldren rarely showed their faces to people from other realms. They had made a banner for me to carry on my lance, but this was presently furled and covered. I also took pains to pull my cloak’s cowl over my head whenever we met others on the road. I had no intention of being recognised at this stage.
Gradually the earthen track began to widen. Next we discovered that it was paved with great stone flags. Now more and more people were joining us, all heading in the same direction. They seemed in holiday mood and were drawn from all walks of life. I saw men and women evidently of a monastic disposition and others who were as plainly secular in their tastes. Men, women, children, all in their best, all in brightly mingled shades. These Draachenheemer were fond of rich plaids and patchworks and thought nothing of wearing a score of different colours. I found their taste attractive and began to feel extremely dowdy in my dull leather gear.
Soon the road began to be lined on both sides with great gilded statues, of individual men and women, of groups, of beasts of every persuasion, though with a preponderance of those large lizards I had first seen at the Great Massing. These beasts were plainly not in common use. For the most part the horse, the ox and the donkey were the ordinary beasts of burden, although here and there was a large piglike creature which people rode upon and carried goods on by means of a sturdy wooden saddle.
“See!” Land Prince Ottro said to me as he came riding up. “It is the best time to arrive unnoticed in Rhetalik, as I said.”
The city was surrounded by very high walls, of warm, reddish sandstone topped by huge spikes of rock, similar to the crenellations on a medieval castle but of an entirely different shape. Each of these spikes had a hole at the centre and I guessed a man could stand behind the spike and shoot without much chance of being hurt himself. The city had been built for war, though Ottro assured me there had been peace throughout Draachenheem for many years. Within it consisted of similarly fortified buildings, of rich palaces, market arcades, canals, temples, warehouses and all the other varied buildings of a complex trading city.
Rhetalik seemed to slope inwards, all her narrow streets leading down towards a central lake at her centre. There, upon an artificial island of some age, stood a great palace of slender marble, quartz, terracotta and limestone: a palace which glittered and shone in the sunlight, which reflected a score of exquisite colours from the tall obelisks marking the island’s perimeter. From the palace’s central turrets there flew a hundred different banners, every one of which was a work of art. A curving, slender bridge crossed the moat to the delicately carved stonework of the gateposts which were guarded by sentries in elaborately inefficient armour of the most fanciful design. The baroque effect of this armour was further increased by the hulking beasts which, in harness and trappings to rival that of their masters, stood beside the guards and were equally stiffly at attention. These were the giant riding lizards I had seen before; the dragons which had given this world its name. Ottro had explained how, in ancient times, these creatures had been plentiful and his people had to fight them for the land.
We brought our horses to a halt beside a wall which overlooked the lake and the castle. All around us the streets were filled with bunting, with scintillating banners and little mirrors, with polished shields and plates so that the entire place seemed ablaze with silver light. The people of Valadeka were celebrating the coronation of their Empress. There was music everywhere, crowds of jubilant men and women, feasting in the twittens and lanes.
“Innocent enough, this festivity,” said von Bek, leaning forward in his saddle to ease his back. It had been several years since he had ridden a horse. “Hard to believe that they celebrate the elevation of one who is s
upposedly the personification of evil!”
“Evil flourishes best in disguise,” said Ottro grimly. His companions nodded in assent.
“And the best disguise is simple,” said the youth, Federit Shaus. “Honest patriotism. Joyful idealism.”
“You’re a cynic, lad,” von Bek smiled at him. “But sadly my own experience would support your view. Show me a man who cries ‘My country right or wrong’, and I’ll show you one who’d cheerfully murder half his own nation in the name of patriotism.”
“I once heard someone say that a nation was merely an excuse for crime,” said Ottro. “In this case I might find myself in agreement. She has misused the love and trust of her people. They have made her Empress of this whole realm because they believe she represents all that is best in human nature. Moreover she now has their sympathy. Did not her brother try to kill her? Has it not been proven she suffered for years to try to preserve his reputation, letting people think him noble and good when all the while he was the very essence of self-indulgence and cowardice?” Ottro spoke bitterly.
“Well,” I said, “since her brother is supposedly dead and you his victims” (that had been the tale put out) “think how overjoyed she will be to discover that she was not wrong in trusting him!”
“She’ll kill us on the spot. I still say it.” Von Bek did not believe our plan could work for a second.
“I doubt if even Sepiriz, with all his plots and cunning, would have sent us to certain death,” said Alisaard. “We have to trust his judgment. It is based on more than we can know.”