“Rally, Humanity!” I called. “Rally!” But they paid me no heed. Again Arjavh dropped his mace to his side.
“You are defeated,” he said.
Reluctantly I lowered my sword.
“You are a worthy foe, Prince Arjavh.”
“You are a worthy foe, Erekosë. I remember our battle terms. Go in peace. Necranal will need you.”
I shook my head slowly and drew a heavy breath. “Prepare to defend yourself, Prince Arjavh,” I said.
He shrugged, swiftly brought up the mace against the blow I aimed at him and then brought it down suddenly upon my metal-gauntleted wrist. My whole arm went numb. I tried to cling to the sword, but my fingers would not respond. It dropped from my hand and hung by a thong from my wrist.
With a curse, I flung myself from my saddle straight at him, my good hand grasping at him, but he turned his horse aside and I fell, face forward, in the bloody mud of the field.
I attempted once to rise, failed and lost consciousness.
20
A BARGAIN
WHO AM I?
You are Erekosë, the Eternal Champion.
WHAT IS MY REAL NAME?
Whatever it happens to be.
WHY AM I AS I AM?
Because that is what you have always been.
WHAT IS “ALWAYS”?
Always.
WILL I EVER KNOW PEACE?
You will sometimes know peace.
FOR HOW LONG?
For a while.
WHERE DID I COME FROM?
You have always been.
WHERE WILL I GO?
Where you must.
FOR WHAT PURPOSE?
To fight.
TO FIGHT FOR WHAT?
To fight.
FOR WHAT?
Fight.
FOR WHAT?
* * *
I shivered, aware that I was no longer clad in my armour. I looked up. Arjavh stood over me.
“I wonder why he hated me then,” he was murmuring to himself. Then he realised I was awake and his expression altered. He gave a light smile. “You’re a ferocious one, Sir Champion.”
I looked into his moody, milky eyes.
“My warriors,” I said, “what…?”
“Those that were left have fled. We released the few prisoners we had and sent them after their comrades. Those were the terms, I believe?”
I struggled up. “Then you are going to release me?”
“I suppose so. Although…”
“Although?”
“You would be a useful bargaining prisoner.”
I took his meaning and relaxed, sinking back onto the hard bed. I thought deeply and fought the idea which came to me. But it grew too large in me. At length I said, almost against my will: “Trade me for Ermizhad.”
His cool eyes showed surprise for an instant. “You would suggest that? But Ermizhad is such a strong hostage for Humanity.”
“Damn you, Eldren. I told you to trade me for her.”
“You’re a strange human, my friend. But with your permission granted, that is what I shall do. I thank you. You really do remember the old Code of War, don’t you? I think you are who you say you are.”
I closed my eyes. My head ached.
He left the tent and I heard him instructing a messenger.
“Make sure the people know!” I shouted from the bed. “The king may not agree, but the people will force his hand. I’m their hero! They’ll willingly trade me for an Eldren—no matter who that Eldren is.”
Arjavh instructed the messenger accordingly. He came back into the tent.
* * *
“It puzzles me,” I said at length. He was sitting on a bench on the other side of the tent. “It puzzles me that the Eldren have not conquered Humanity before now. With those halfling warriors, I should think you’d be invincible.”
He shook his head. “We rarely make use of our allies,” he said. “But I was desperate. You can understand that I was prepared to go to almost any measures to rescue my sister.”
“I can,” I told him.
“We would never have invaded,” he continued, “had it not been for her.” It was said so simply that I believed him. I had already been fairly certain of that.
I took a deep breath. “It is hard for me,” I said. “I am forced to fight like this, with no clear idea about the rights or the wrongs of that fighting, with no true knowledge of this world, with no opinions of those who inhabit it. Simple facts turn out to be lies—and unbelievable things turn out to be true. What are the halflings, for instance?”
Again he smiled. “Sorcerous ghouls,” he said.
“That is what Count Roldero told me. It is no explanation.”
“What if I told you they were capable of breaking up their atomic structure at will and assembling again in another place? You would not understand me. Sorcery, you would say.”
I was surprised at the scientific nature of his explanation. “I would understand you better,” I said slowly.
He raised his slanting eyebrows.
“You are different,” he said. “Well, the halflings, as you have seen, are related to the Eldren. Not all the dwellers on the Ghost Worlds are our kin—some are more closely related to men, and there are other, baser forms of life.
“The Ghost Worlds are solid enough, but exist in an alternate series of dimensions to our own. There are many such series, our philosophers believe—possibly an infinite series. On the worlds we know, the halflings have no special powers—no more than we have—but here they have. We do not know why. They do not know why. On Earth different laws seem to apply for them. More than a million years ago we discovered a means of bridging the dimensions between Earth and these other worlds. We found a race akin to our own who will, at times, come to our aid if our need is especially great. This was one of those times. Sometimes, however, the bridge ceases to exist when the Ghost Worlds move into another phase of their weird orbit, so that any halflings on Earth cannot return and any of our people are in the same position if they are on the Ghost Worlds.
Therefore, you will understand, it is dangerous to stay on either side overlong.”
“Is it possible,” I asked, “that the Eldren came originally from these Ghost Worlds?”
“I suppose it is possible,” he agreed. “There are no records, though.”
“Perhaps that is why the humans hate you as aliens,” I suggested.
“That is not the reason,” he told me, “for the Eldren occupied Earth for ages before humankind ever came here.”
“What!”
“It is true,” he said. “I am an immortal and my grandfather was an immortal. He was slain during the first wars between the Eldren and Humanity. When the humans came to Earth, they had incredible weapons of terrible destructive potential. In those days we also possessed similar weapons. The wars created such destruction that the Earth seemed like a blackened ball of mud when the wars were ended and the Eldren defeated. So terrifying was the destruction that we swore never again to use our weapons, whether we were threatened with extermination or not. We could not assume the responsibility for destroying an entire planet.”
“You mean you still have these weapons?”
“They are locked away, yes.”
“And you have the knowledge to use them?”
“Of course. We are immortal. We have many people who fought in those ancient wars, some even built new weapons before our decision was made.”
“Then why…?”
“I have told you. We swore not to.”
“What happened to the humans’ weapons—and their knowledge of them? Did they make the same decision?”
“No. The human race degenerated. Wars occurred among themselves. At one time they almost wiped themselves out completely, at another they were barbarians, and at another they seemed to have matured, to have conquered their monstrous egos and found self-respect at last, to be at peace with their own souls and with one another. During one of those stages they
lost the knowledge and the remaining weapons. In the last million years they have climbed back from absolute savagery—the peaceful years were short, a false lull—and I’d predict they’ll sink back again soon enough. They seem bent on their own destruction as well as ours. We have wondered if the humans, who must surely exist in other planes, are the same. Perhaps not.”
“I hope not,” I said. “How do you think the Eldren will fare against the humans?”
“Badly,” he said. “Particularly since the humans are inspired by your leadership and the gateway to the Ghost Worlds is due soon to close again. Previously Humanity was split by quarrels, you see. King Rigenos could never get his marshals to agree and he was too uncertain of himself to make the large decisions. But you have made decisions for him and you have united the marshals. You will win, I think.”
“You are a fatalist,” I said.
“I am a realist,” he said.
“Could not peace terms be arranged?”
He shook his head. “What use is it to talk?” he asked me bitterly. “You humans, I pity you. Why will you always identify our motives with your own? We do not seek power—only peace. But that, I suppose, this planet shall never have until Humanity dies of old age.”
* * *
I stayed with Arjavh for a few more days before he released me, on trust, and I rode back towards Necranal. It was a long, lonely ride and I had a great deal of time to think.
I was hardly recognised this time, for I was dusty and my armour was battered and the people of Necranal had become used to seeing beaten warriors returning to the city.
I reached the Palace of Ten Thousand Windows. A gloomy quiet had settled on it. The king was not in the Great Hall and Iolinda was not in her quarters.
In my old apartments, I stripped off my armour. “When did the Lady Ermizhad leave?” I asked a slave.
“Leave, master? Is she not still here?”
“What? Where?”
“In the same quarters, surely.”
I still had my breastplate on and I donned my sword as I strode through the corridors until I got to Ermizhad’s apartments and brushed past the guard on the door.
“Ermizhad—you were to be traded for me. Those were the terms. Where is the king? Why has he not kept his word?”
“I knew nothing of this,” she said. “I did not know Arjavh was so close, otherwise…”
I interrupted her. “Come with me. We’ll find the king and get you on your journey back.”
I half dragged her from room to room of the palace until at last I found the king in his private apartments. He was in conference with Roldero as I burst in upon them.
“King Rigenos, what is the meaning of this? My word was given to Prince Arjavh that Ermizhad was to leave here freely upon my release. He allowed me to leave his camp on trust and now I return to find the Lady Ermizhad still in captivity. I demand that she be released immediately.”
The king and Roldero laughed at me.
“Come now, Erekosë,” said Roldero. “Who needs to keep his word to an Eldren jackal? Now we have our war champion back and still retain our chief hostage. Forget it, Erekosë. There is no need to regard the Eldren as human!”
Ermizhad smiled. “Do not worry, Erekosë. I have other friends.” She closed her eyes and began to croon. At first the words came softly, but the volume rose until she was giving voice to a weird series of harmonies.
Roldero jumped forward, dragging out his sword.
“Sorcery!”
I stepped between them.
Roldero said urgently: “Erekosë! The bitch invokes her demon kind!”
I drew my own sword and held it warningly in front of me, protecting Ermizhad. I had no idea what she was doing, but I was going to give her the chance, now, to do whatever she wanted.
Her voice changed abruptly and then stopped. Then she cried: “Brethren! Brethren of the Ghost Worlds—aid me!”
21
AN OATH
QUITE SUDDENLY THERE materialised in the chamber some dozen or so Eldren, their faces but slightly different from others I had seen. I recognised them now as halflings.
“There!” shouted Rigenos. “Evil sorcery. She is a witch. I told you! A witch!”
The halflings were silent. They surrounded Ermizhad until all their bodies touched hers and one another’s. Then Ermizhad shouted: “Away, brethren—back to the camp of the Eldren!”
Their forms began to flicker so that they seemed half in our dimension, half in some other. “Goodbye, Erekosë,” she cried. “I hope we shall meet in happier circumstances.”
“I hope so!” I shouted back. And then she vanished.
“Traitor!” cursed King Rigenos. “You aided her escape!”
“You should die by torture!” added Roldero, disgusted.
“I’m no traitor, as well you know,” I said evenly. “You are traitors—traitors to your words, to the great tradition of your ancestors. You have no case against me, you stupid—stupid brutes.”
I stopped, turned on my heel and left the chamber.
“You lost the battle—War Champion!” screamed King Rigenos after me as I stalked out. “The people do not respect defeat!”
I went to find Iolinda.
She had been walking in the balconies and had now returned to her apartments. I kissed her, needing at that moment a woman’s friendly sympathy, but I seemed to meet a block. She was not, it seemed, prepared to give me help, although she kissed me dutifully. At length I ceased to embrace her and stood back a little, looking into her eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said. “Should there be? You are safe. I had feared you dead.”
Was it me, then? Was it? I pushed the thought from me. But can a man force himself to love a woman? Can he love two women at the same time? I was desperately clinging to the strands of the love I had felt for her when first we met.
“Ermizhad is safe,” I blurted. “She called her halfling brothers to her aid and, when she returns to the Eldren camp, Arjavh will take his forces back to Mernadin. You should be pleased.”
“I am,” she said, and then: “And you are pleased, no doubt, that our hostage escaped!”
“What do you mean?”
“My father told me how you’d been enchanted by her wanton sorcery. You seemed to be more anxious for her safety than ours.”
“That is foolish talk.”
“You seem to like the company of the Eldren, too. Holidaying with our greatest enemy…”
“Stop!”
“I think my father spoke true, Erekosë.” Her voice was subdued now. She turned from me.
“But, Iolinda, I love you. You alone.”
“I do not believe you, Erekosë.”
What is it in me that I should become what I became then? At that moment I gave an oath which was to affect all our destinies. Why, as my love for her began to fade and I saw her as a selfish, grasping fool, did I yet protest a greater love for her?
I do not know. I only know that I did it.
“I love you more than life, Iolinda!” I said. “I would do anything for you!”
“I do not believe you!”
“I do. I will prove it!” I cried in agony.
She turned. There was pain and reproach in her eyes. There was a bitterness that went so deep it had no bottom. There was anger and there was revenge.
“How will you prove it, Erekosë?” she said softly.
“I swear I shall kill all the Eldren.”
“All?”
“Every single Eldren.”
“You will spare none?”
“None! None! I want it to be over. And the only way I can finish it is to kill them all. Then it will be over—only then!”
“Including Prince Arjavh and his sister?”
“Including them!”
“You swear this? You swear it?”
“I swear it. And when the last Eldren dies, when the whole world is ours, then I will bring it to you and we shall be ma
rried.”
She nodded. “Very well, Erekosë.” She went swiftly from the room.
I unstrapped my sword and flung it savagely to the floor. I spent the next few hours fighting my own agony of spirit.
But I had made the oath now.
Soon I became cold. I meant what I had said. I would destroy all the Eldren. Rid the world of them. Rid myself of this continual turmoil in my mind.
22
THE REAVING
THE LESS OF a man I became, and the more of an automaton, so the dreams and half-memories ceased to plague me. It was as if they had deliberately driven me into this mindless rôle; so long as I continued to be a creature without remorse or conscience they would reward me with their absence. If I again showed signs of ordinary Humanity, then they would punish me with their presence.
But that is a notion. It is no nearer the truth, I suppose, than any other. One might also argue that I was about to achieve the catharsis that would rid me of any ambivalence; banish my nightmares; cleanse my psyche.
In the month I spent preparing for the great war against the Eldren, I saw but little of my betrothed and, finally, ceased to seek her out, concentrating instead on the plans for the campaigns we intended to fight.
I developed the strictly controlled mind of the soldier. I allowed no emotion, whether it was love or hate, to influence me.
I became strong. And in my strength I became virtually inhuman. I knew people remarked upon it—but they also saw in me the qualities of a great battle leader and, while all avoided my company socially, they were very glad that Erekosë led them.
* * *
Arjavh and his sister returned to their ships and in their ships went back to their own land. Now, doubtless, they awaited us, readying themselves for the next battle.
We continued with our original plans and at length were ready to sail for the Outer Islands at World’s Edge. The gateway to the Ghost Worlds which we intended to close.
Then we sailed.
It was a long and arduous sailing, that one, before we sighted the bleak cliffs of the Outer Islands and prepared ourselves for the invasion.
Roldero was with me. But it was a grim Roldero, a silent Roldero who had made himself, as I had, into nothing but an instrument of war.