"I'll fly on to the StarMan," the scout said, "and tell him what we've seen."
"No," said Eleanon. "Wait."
He stopped, thinking. Was it a trap on Armat's part? And if it was, what should he do? If he was sensible, Eleanon should tell the scouts to keep an eye on the column while he relayed the intelligence to Axis.
If he was sensible...
But "being sensible" stuck in Eleanon's craw. Axis didn't think much of him, and neither did Maximilian, who, Eleanon was only too well aware, had sent Axis on this mission to test the Lealfast.
Why not do what Axis and Maximilian assumed he would? Something foolish. It was what Bingaleal had counseled--deceive Maximilian and Axis into thinking that the Lealfast truly were nothing but arrogant foolishness. This would be the perfect opportunity, but, oh, how it irritated Eleanon that for the moment Maximilian and Axis should have their egotistical suspicions confirmed.
Still...it would position the Lealfast splendidly for the future.
Eleanon's thoughts churned; he was aware that the scout waited impatiently. If he did what Maximilian and Axis expected, then he would have the freedom to journey south without raising their suspicions and confirm in their minds that the Lealfast were useless as fighters--but, oh, the price...
"Eleanon? Should I fly on to Axis StarMan?"
"We can handle this," Eleanon said, the bottom of his stomach almost falling out of his belly as he made his decision. "We are tens of thousand strong, and far superior to five thousand Isembaardian soldiers.
We have the advantage of near invisibility and of height. They'll never know what hit them. We'll capture Armat, then tell the StarMan."
The scout regarded Eleanon for a brief moment, then nodded his head. "As you will."
"Then lead on. Show us this general."
This decision would kill hundreds of Lealfast, perhaps thousands, but Eleanon justified it to himself on the grounds that it would position the Lealfast the better to ultimately betray Elcho Falling. He also promised himself that he would personally murder Axis for what this day would bring.
Today's blood would be Axis' fault, not Eleanon's, and Axis would one day pay for it.
The One traced his finger through the air, green trails of light following in its wake. Within moments he had drawn a perfect outline of a pyramid that stood about the third of the height of a man. Once it was completed, he laid his hands upon the pyramid, drew it before his face, and closed his eyes.
Light flared briefly, then the One guided the pyramid down to the ground in the center of their circle. It was now clothed in blue-green glass, capped with gold--a perfect representation of DarkGlass Mountain.
"Rather more beautiful than the spires you used to contact your friend Lister, eh?" said the One.
Isaiah was feeling progressively more uneasy. He glanced at Hereward. Her face was white and drawn, and Isaiah wondered if his own looked much better.
The One was toying with them, and Isaiah sensed that very soon the One would grow tired of the game and move straight into horrifying practicalities.
"There is no longer a question of what will happen if Maximilian and Ishbel refuse to bring me the objects I desire," the One said. "The curse I am about to build shall be a reality. It will happen. The only question is whether or not I can be persuaded to destroy the curse before it does too much damage. But see, I
have not yet finished."
His voice strengthened, became harsh and sharp, like the sound of the cold wind whistling over the striking sword.
"Do you feel the power I now wield, Isaiah? Can you recognize it?"
Isaiah jerked his head in assent, so overwhelmed by the power that now throbbed about the circle that he dared not speak.
"Name it!" hissed the One.
"The..." Isaiah swallowed and tried again. "It is a power made of the blood of Maximilian and Ishbel's daughter, of the blood of her death, and of the power of Infinity, which you touch."
"Very good, Isaiah. I needed you to recognize the power I use so that you can later vouch for the veracity of this curse."
The One lifted his hands and ran them lightly down two sides of the pyramid, from cap to base.
Isaiah and Hereward both gasped. As the One's hands traveled down the glass, so it became translucent and they could see within.
A man and a woman lay on a great bed. They were naked.
"Maximilian," said the One, looking at Isaiah. "And Ishbel. Yes?"
"Yes," Isaiah said reluctantly.
The One waved a hand at the pyramid and what it contained. "This will be, Isaiah. Understand that."
"Maxel and Ishbel no longer--"
"This will be, Isaiah! Understand that!"
Isaiah gave a jerk of his head.
"Good. Then witness herewith my curse on Ishbel," said the One. "When Maximilian Persimius succumbs to her blandishments and beauty and once more slides the ring of the Queen of Elcho Falling on her finger, and slides his own flesh into her body, then so shall sorrow and despair envelop Elcho Falling and all it touches."
The One's voice became increasingly stronger and harsher as he spoke, his words falling over themselves, and Isaiah could feel the One's power binding the curse to Ishbel.
Within the pyramid, Maximilian slid the ring onto Ishbel's outstretched finger, and then rose over her body.
"When Maximilian slides that ring on her finger," the One continued, "and once he bears her down to his bed, then so shall he marry the One to Elcho Falling. I shall become its lord, and when I arrive at the gates of Elcho Falling, so shall Ishbel crawl forth and surrender to me all the power and might of the citadel of Elcho Falling."
Ishbel cried out as Maximilian entered her, and clung to his shoulders.
She rolled her head to one side on the pillow, and for an instant her eyes met those of Isaiah's.
"And so shall Ishbel be sorrow's midwife," Isaiah murmured, almost unaware he spoke aloud. "As Ravenna foretold."
The One suppressed a smile. Ravenna. She had been so useful. "Do you recognize the power with which I have made this curse, Isaiah?"
"Yes."
"Do you recognize its reality?"
"Yes."
"Shall I make a fine Lord of Elcho Falling, do you think?"
Isaiah could not answer.
"Do you think I shall make a fine Lord of--"
"Yes. Yes!"
"Maximilian will succumb to Ishbel's beauty," the One said, his voice almost soft now. "You know this. I
can see it in your eyes. And when he does..."
The One waved his hand and the pyramid once more turned green, hiding the sight of Maximilian and Ishbel's writhing bodies.
"But," the One's tone relaxed almost into geniality, "the curse can be destroyed. That is possible. All Maximilian and Ishbel need to do is to bring me the--"
"You will kill them," Isaiah said.
"Of course I will, but Elcho Falling shall remain inviolate. If they bring to me those three objects, then, yes, they die, as they would have me die, but I shall turn my back on Elcho Falling and return to DarkGlass Mountain. If they deliver to me their lives, and those objects which are most precious to them, then Elcho Falling and all the peoples of the northern kingdoms shall live. If they do not bring those objects to me, and if they try to save their own lives, then the curse remains, and all shall fail and fall into sorrow and ruin."
Again that casual hand wave over the pyramid, and within the space of a breath it vanished.
"I want you," said the One, "to take my message back to Maximilian and Ishbel. They are already doomed, but I will spare Elcho Falling and the lands and peoples north of the FarReach Mountains if they bring to me at Sakkuth that which I desire."
The One looked at Isaiah's face, and he very slowly smiled. "Ah, I can see your thoughts mirrored all over your desperate face, Isaiah. You think you can get to Maximilian and warn him in time, don't you?
Warn him before he condemns Elcho Falling to my rule? But I am afraid, Isai
ah, there is one other little disaster I need to tell you about."
Eleanon circled high above the column of slow-marching men. Armat was clearly visible, riding a horse at their head.
There was a horde of Lealfast in the sky, invisible save for that curious grayness they lent to the air. The men below had made no indication they realized the presence above them.
It was going to be a nightmare, but it was a nightmare that would free the Lealfast into their destiny.
Eleanon allowed himself a moment of hesitation to reflect on his decision, then, mind settled, he gave the order to attack.
CHAPTER THREE
Isembaard, and the Outlands
You're a powerful man, Isaiah," said the One. "A god.
Abeing many thousands of years old." He was relaxed, almost happy. It was time to have his fun with Isaiah.
From the corner of his eye Isaiah saw Hereward blink out of her fugue of shock at that piece of information.
"How would you feel," continued the One, "if you lost that power, and became as any ordinary mortal?
If you became as...Hereward is."
"The only means to remove my power is to kill me," Isaiah said.
"Not necessarily," said the One. "You can also relinquish that power of your own free will. That won't kill you." He paused. "Well, not physically."
"Destroy that curse," said Isaiah, "and I will agree to give up my power."
"I was thinking of something a little more challenging for you."
The One raised his finger, and Isaiah tensed, thinking he was going to draw another curse.
But at the One's signal there was a movement, and two Skraelings appeared out of nowhere behind Hereward. Isaiah started to rise, but found himself suddenly in the grip of two more Skraelings who had appeared behind him.
"You may not interfere," said the One.
Hereward was staring at Isaiah; she was hyperventilating, terrified. Each of the Skraelings had one clawed hand on a shoulder, the other gripping one of her arms.
She struggled, but the Skraelings held Hereward so tight she had no hope of escape.
Now the One nodded at one of the Skraelings, and it shifted its grip on her shoulder a little so that one taloned finger slid up her collarbone.
Then, without any warning, it sunk the talon deep into her neck so that blood spurted forth and flowed down her neck.
"Keep your power and she dies," said the One to Isaiah. "Relinquish your power and she lives."
Isaiah struggled against the two Skraelings who held him. He was a powerful man, but the Skraelings held him easily.
Hereward's chest and belly were now soaked in blood. She stared pleadingly at Isaiah, who still struggled futilely.
There were many people for whom Isaiah would not have hesitated.
Axis.
Maximilian.
Ishbel.
But Hereward? She was but just one woman, when already so many had died.
A kitchen steward.
A servant.
And Isaiah would need his power to travel quickly on his way back to Maximilian. Or to contact him, through power. To let him know that whatever else, a sexual or marital reconciliation with Ishbel was not a good idea...not in the current circumstances.
And it was going to happen, Isaiah knew that. Ishbel and Maximilian might currently be estranged, but Isaiah knew that it was only a matter of time before the inevitable occurred.
Gods, gods, if he had to walk north, then it might take him months.
"Hereward..." Isaiah said.
"Please," she whispered. The Skraeling's claw had now sunk deep into her neck and blood was gurgling out.
Isaiah could literally hear it pumping from her body.
"Not enough to kill her," said the One. "Not quite, not yet, but if you hesitate much longer, Isaiah, she is going to be so weakened she will be a serious hindrance to you on your way north to Maximilian and Ishbel."
No, thought Isaiah.
"Her life for your power," said the One. "Will you give it, Isaiah? Will you become a mere mortal, just for Hereward's pathetic little life?"
No, thought Isaiah.
"Will you agree to relinquish all your god abilities, Isaiah, for the life of a servant?"
No, thought Isaiah.
"Yes," he said.
The One laughed, and clapped his hands. "Yes!" he said, and suddenly a vast emptiness consumed Isaiah as all of his power drained away.
Gone.
"Good," said the One, and he waved back the Skraelings.
The instant Isaiah felt himself free, he sprang across to Hereward and clamped a hand down hard on her neck. Her blood was warm and thick, and Isaiah could feel the blood vessel pumping under his hand, but at least the flow of blood had stemmed.
"Feed the pretty kitty," said the One, and he reached over, scooped a finger through the coagulating blood on Hereward's breast, and held the finger out for the kitten to lick.
Everything went bad from the moment the first Lealfast arrow sped down from the sky.
Firstly, Armat completely disappeared. One heartbeat he was there, the next he was gone.
Secondly, the column of Isembaardian soldiers, apparently relaxed, unaware, and vulnerable, instantly swung large oblong shields from their backs and either raised them above their heads or to one side.
Within moments each unit of soldiers was encased within the protection of their shields, which formed both a roof and walls about them.
The Lealfast arrows bounced away harmlessly.
Then a third and far more deadly surprise hit the Lealfast.
Arrows. Tens of thousands of them, fired from bowmen hidden in the rocks at the sides of the gully.
The entire force became visible as Lealfast started to fall from the sky.
Eleanon made certain he received at least one arrow--to a limb where a wound was not critical--then retreated, sick to his stomach at the slaughter.
It was for the best of the Lealfast Nation, he said to himself. For the best.
"I will take the book," the One said. "It belongs to me."
He rose, tucking the Book of the Soulenai under one arm, and regarded Isaiah and Hereward.
"I wish you joy in your journey," the One said. "Please don't forget the message."
He took a step away, then stopped and looked back. "Your journey north will be as uneventful as I can make it. The Skraelings will not bother you, but neither will you receive much aid. At least not while you are in Isembaard."
Again he paused. "Enjoy your mortality, Isaiah. I am sure Hereward is worth what you have lost."
And then he was gone, the red kitten gamboling along behind him.
Far to the north, Bingaleal had just lifted off in order to fly into the Salamaan Pass to check on the refugees streaming through, when he heard a shout from behind him.
It was one of the other Lealfast, flying toward Hairekeep.
Behind the Lealfast, perhaps three or four hundred paces distant, was a massive rolling wave of darkness that stretched hundreds of paces into the sky.
It moved at supernatural speed.
Then, twenty paces from Bingaleal, it stopped. One instant it was hurtling forward, the next instant it hung still in the air, towering above all before it.
Bingaleal took a deep breath. He gestured to the other Lealfast to stay where they were, then he flew forward slowly, dropping to the ground before the great wave as it hung in the air.
This close Bingaleal could see that it was made of tens of millions of tiny shards of black glass.
He stood watching.
Then, after a time, Bingaleal walked forward and stepped into the cloud.
"Isaiah!" Lister jerked his horse to a halt, not caring that Vorstus, and every soldier in the vicinity, was staring at him.
"Wait here," Lister snapped to Vorstus, then kicked his horse into a gallop to catch up with Maximilian near the head of the convoy.
Maximilian had already pulled his horse to one side, waiting f
or Lister. "You felt it," he said, as Lister pulled up.
"Isaiah is dead," Lister said.
"It might be that--"
"Isaiah is dead."
Maximilian lapsed into silence. His connection with both Isaiah and Lister was a deep, semiconscious thing. He could feel their presence, their life force, but little else about them.
Now his sense of Isaiah was gone. It had abruptly winked out of existence a few minutes ago.
He looked at Lister. He had avoided the man as much as possible since he'd joined the convoy, disliking and distrusting him.
Lister didn't feel any better to him now, either.
If only it had been Lister he'd sent south, not Isaiah!
"We need to talk, Maximilian," Lister said.
"If we must," Maximilian said.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Central Outlands
The first Axis knew of the disaster was when Lealfast began to drop out of the sky about him. Hundreds of them, thousands, all wounded to some degree, and many suffering horrendous injuries.
"What the..." he began, unable for the moment to continue as first his, then Zeboath's, horse shied at the sudden rain of bodies about them.
"Georgdi," Axis snapped, bringing his horse back under control, "get the men into defensive formation.
Stars knows what is following behind this lot. Zeboath--"
"I'm moving," Zeboath said, in the next moment shouting to his assistants to get out the medical packs.
Axis sat his horse for the next minute, just watching the Lealfast land.
How had so many been injured?
What had happened? Had they flown into a storm of arrows?
"Eleanon!" he shouted, then with his power: Eleanon!
"Here," came a voice behind him, and Axis wheeled his horse, cursing as it stumbled over a wounded Lealfast.
Eleanon was standing awkwardly, clutching at one arm, which had a broken-off arrow embedded in its bicep. Blood stained his tunic and one of his legs.
"Armat," he began, then wavered a little on his feet, pale and shocked.
Axis jumped down and took two huge strides to reach Eleanon and bury his fist in the front of the Lealfast's tunic.
"What the fuck has happened?"
"Armat..."
"Armat? Armat? What did you do, Eleanon? Line up your entire fighting force against a wall so he could request his men to shoot at their leisure? Oh for the stars' sakes, look there...and there...stars, the injuries! Eleanon, what the fuck happened?"
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