A Hero Born

by Michael A. Stackpole

  Roarke and I both laughed as Cruach jumped back and licked his face, too, but our laughter died as the survivors came out of the hole in the mountain. They all looked tired—Taci especially—and still wary about the possible presence of Bharashadi. Everyone had soot stains on their clothing and faces, and more than one bloody rag staunched nicks and cuts. They all carried their weapons in their hands, except Kit and Eirene. Between them they bore a makeshift litter.

  1 scrambled to my feet and ran over to where they set Tyrchon down. In his right hand he clutched a dagger that looked much like those that hung on my wall in Herakopolis. It had the same hook cut in the back of the blade, and it looked to me as if a piece of it had broken off. The blade also had a line drawing on it, and the image I saw unmistakably represented Tyrchon.

  Roarke knelt at Tyrchon’s side and gently lifted the wounded man’s left arm from the litter. He pulled open the leather jerkin and there, near the armpit, I saw a black hole in Tyrchon’s chest. I nearly gagged when I caught a whiff of the suppurating wound—and was immediately reminded of the sculpture in Castel Payne.

  Dark pus bubbled and oozed out of the wound. “Roarke, what caused that?”

  He tapped the knife. “Vindictxvara.” He looked up at Kit. “What happened, Lieutenant?”

  Kit hung his head. “After the first night and the explosion we heard, we decided we needed to scout the area. We had lost five people, you two, Nagrendra, Xoayya, and Aleix—six if you count Cruach. We had to try to find you before Taci could set up some defenses here, but…”

  I held a hand up. “You did the right thing, Kit. We were beyond helping.”

  Kit gave me a thin-lipped smile. “Thanks. When we opened up again, Tyrchon and Hansen volunteered to go out and see what they could find. As nearly as we can determine, they ran into a group of Bharashadi and had a fight. Tyrchon returned with Cruach and this hole in him. Hansen did not make it back.”

  “We tried to find Nagrendra and Xoayya.” Eirene shook her head. “The Bharashadi did an excellent job on the north tower. There’s not a trace of them left.”

  I squatted and took a good look at Tyrchon’s wound and the knife that caused it. “Roarke, that knife could have made a cut that would fit within that wound, but it couldn’t have done that much damage. This looks like a cut that’s been infected for weeks.”

  “Have you ever had poison ivy?”

  “Yes.”

  “Windictxvara does the same sort of thing. It is magically created to be antithetical to the person who is pictured on it. If the person who created it wounds the person for whom it is made, the attacker’s hatred becomes like a poison. The weapon gnaws away at both the body and spirit of it’s victim.” Roarke tapped the knife blade. “At least we have the vindictxvara that made the wound. I assume the wielder is dead?”

  Kit nodded. “That much Tyrchon communicated before he fainted.”

  Taci shrugged her shoulders. “I know that should make healing him easier, but I am not that skilled in curative magic.”

  “Nor am I.” Roarke shook his head. “There is no way we can get him back to the Empire in time for him to be healed. He has a day and a half at best, I would guess.”

  “Wait a minute, Roarke.” I smiled. “Do you remember what you told me my father had done with one of his men on an expedition?”

  “No …”

  “You told me that he placed the man in one of the slow zones within Chaos. If I remember the maps correctly, there was one with a thirty-to-one ratio about two hours from here. We can put him there until we can get help for him, and we’d have a month and a half to get that help, too.”

  Osane frowned at the suggestion. “The ride will kill him. The terrain is too broken, too much jarring.”

  “Not a problem, Holiness.” I whistled, and the Emerald Horse, head held high and mane flying, came trotting into the courtyard.

  Eirene’s face darkened. “What is that thing doing here?”

  “Easy, Eirene, it’s with me now.” I turned to the Emerald Horse.

  Roarke stood. “Good idea, Locke, but you cannot use your horse to fly Tyrchon to that spot.” A red disc spread out from Roarke’s feet and slid beneath the litter. “I will get him there, then join you on the road.”

  Taci leaped back from the disc. “Chaos magic! Who are you? What are you?” She raised her hands and seemed poised to cast defensive spells.

  Roarke looked at her, and I noticed the rest of our company had likewise withdrawn from the red circle. Eirene somehow managed to keep her face impassive, but Osane and Kit both watched Roarke suspiciously. Cruach sniffed at the circle.

  “I am, now, Roarke. I am still the person you have all known and, i hope, grown to think of as a companion on this journey. I was not always Roarke, however, and therein is the problem.” He opened his hands to show they concealed no weapons, but that did not put Taci at ease.

  “Twenty years ago I answered to the name

  Zephaniah. In the City of Sorcerers I was known for being quick and not much on ceremony. My masters saw I was trouble from the start. They looked forward to my going into Chaos and dying. I knew that and limited myself to hunting down creatures in Menal and Tarris provinces.”

  The Sunbird Bishop slowly nodded. “I have heard other members of the Church refer to bounty-hunter magickers as ‘Zefs.’”

  “Ah, to be so fondly remembered.” Roarke smiled, and that did begin to calm Taci. “Cardew and Driscoll had heard of me and asked me to join their last expedition. They figured Bfiarasfiadi warriors had made vindictxvara spears to kill all the sorcerers in the Valiant Lancers, so they wanted some new blood to surprise them. I agreed to go with them. You could hear the cheering from the City of Sorcerers all the way to Herakopolis.

  “The fighting was nasty, and surviving it not that pleasant, either. Fialchar gave me Kothvir’s eye to replace the one the Bfiarasfiadi warlord had taken from me. He thought that was funny. 1 found it meant all my magick was tainted with Chaos. You know about the paranoia concerning Chaos in the City of Sorcerers. I was not allowed to work magick there or anywhere in the Empire. You saw what happened when I crossed here, so returning to Chaos was not an option.”

  Kit nodded. “You picked up an ax and became Roarke the caravan guard.”

  “An ax is a fine weapon. Requires no skill, just brute strength.” Roarke smiled broadly. “Given that Kothvir’s eye could see through the patch I wore, I didn’t even have a blind side. It even sleeps lightly, which is good given the sorts of places I spend my idle time. You all would do well to sleep while I take Tyrchon to the place where he can rest. We are half a day out from the Necroleum and will have to ride hard in the morning.”

  Donla shook her head. “I thought we were going to have to search for the Necroleum. How do you know how far it is?”

  Roarke closed his right eye and stared at her with the gold orb. “I know because Kothvir knows. He can’t be resurrected until he gets his eye back, and he’s been waiting for its return for the last sixteen years. He wants it so badly he’s been giving me directions to the Necroleum ever since we crossed over—my coma resulted from the battle of wills we were having over who would control my body on this side of the Ward Walls. I’ve won, and we have the staff. It’s time to take him up on his invitation to visit the Necroleum and finish what was started on my last trip into Chaos.”

  26

  R

  oarke gestured and the red disc floated up into the air. Bearing the sorcerer and Tyrchon on the litter, it rose above the courtyard, then dipped and sailed in a long, slow curve toward the south. As it sank from sight, the only light left in the courtyard came from the Emerald Horse’s green glow.

  Eirene scowled in Roarke’s direction. “1 certainly hope that disc can carry more than two. If not, we will not make it to the Necroleum in less than two days.”

  “Why not?” I glanced at the open hole in the mountain. “We put the remounts in there. They should have been safe.”

  Kit
nodded. “Should have been. One of them stepped into a nest of blind ghast-vipers—or their chaotic equivalent. The herd lost four to snakebites and two others to broken legs as they ran wild through the dark. We do not know where the others have gone, but the ones we have recaptured appear disinclined to venture out into a courtyard awash in Bharasfiadi bodies and blood.”

  “Can’t we do anything?”

  Osane toed a dead Bharasfiadi with her right foot. “We can burn the bodies and withhold food from the horses. When they get hungry enough they will come out.”

  “But that will take too long and leave them too weak to be of much use to us.” Kit looked over at Eirene and shook his head. “Either Roarke can work magick to get us to the Necroleum, or we have a long walk ahead of us.”

  I patted the Emerald Horse’s right shoulder. “There is another solution, I think.” Reaching up I stroked his neck. “Summon your herd. My friends need mounts, and on the backs of your herd they will ride into battle.”

  The Emerald Horse looked down at me, and his nostrils flared defiantly, then he nodded. 1 stepped back as he reared up on’ his hind legs and let out a neigh that was all but silent to the ears, but hammered through my chest like thunder. It echoed from Gorecrag like a phantom’s ghostly whisper. His forelegs kicked out into the air, and he again called to his herd. His forehooves slammed down into the ground again, pulverizing more tiles, then he butted me with his head, and I stroked his neck.

  Everyone looked around and silence fell in the courtyard as we strained to hear any sign his call had been heeded. Eirene’s scowl lightened at first, but quickly deepened as we heard nothing. She folded her arms across her chest, then spat roughly in the Emerald Horse’s direction. “Thieves never return what they steal.”

  The Emerald Horse’s head came up, and he matched her opalescent stare with one of his own. His tail swished through the air, the pace quickening as muscles bunched at the corners of Eirene’s jaw. The Emerald Horse snorted once, then raised his head and broke for the tunnel out to the front courtyard.

  Eirene laughed triumphantly. “Looks like you’ll be walking, too, Locke.”

  My cheeks burned with a blush, but I met her stare openly. “We’ll see.”

  “Sure, after our boots have worn out and our feet are blistered.” Eirene shook her head. “It was a nice fantasy, Locke, but reality in Chaos is seldom that pleasant.”

  Kit placed his left hand on her right arm. “Wait, Eirene, I hear something.”

  Donla smiled. “I do as well. Dry thunder.”

  The sound of hoofbeats on the ground started as a distant pounding rhythm. 1 could not so much hear it as feel it, and that sensation grew as the herd approached. Like a sailor lured to a reef by a siren’s song, I started out toward the courtyard. The others pressed in behind me, but Eirene broke through the knot of us and reached the courtyard first.

  There at the far edge of the clearing, the Emerald Horse’s herd drew up and arrayed itself in a battle line facing First Stop Mansion. As 1 and my companions left the building, we similarly spread out into a line to face them. In the middle, standing amid broken and bleeding Bharashadi bodies, the Emerald Horse waited. He glanced at Eirene contemptuously, then tossed his head up and down several times. He neighed and looked at Kit.

  1 figured out what the Emerald Horse was trying to communicate. “Kit, step forward.”

  When I spoke, my cousin did as requested. The

  Emerald Horse stamped twice on the ground. From among the ranks of horses came one creature of dun fur and Cfiaosfire eyes. From his head curled a pair of horns that would have made any mountain sheep jealous, except they appeared to be burning. As the horse walked forward 1 noticed his forequarters seemed more powerfully built than his hind and that his hooves blazed the same as his horns did. He appeared to be in transition from a horse to a gigantic mountain sheep, but only in the way that Chaos could allow.

  The mount came to Kit, and my cousin did not hesitate to climb up on his back. The creature started to rear up, but a neigh and feinted nip from the Emerald Horse put an end to that rebellion. Kit patted him on the neck, then smiled. “I cannot explain it, but I know his name is Curadh.”

  The Emerald Horse neighed and looked at Donla. As had Kit, she stepped forward from our line and waited. The Emerald Horse stamped once, and another of his herd trotted into the courtyard. Gray in color, a carapace covered the horse. It had the hooks and bumps and articulations that made me mindful of a tsoerit or crab. It came readily to Donla, and, even as we watched, the carapace shifted to form a saddle with a high cantle and stirrups incorporating a greavelike design to protect her legs.

  She hesitated for a moment, then mounted the horse. “It’s warm,” she laughed. 1 saw her rub her hand along the creature’s neck and the color changed from gray to blue there, then faded. “This is Gliomach, everyone.”

  The ritual repeated itself twice more. Osane received a horse that looked to be a mechanical construct hammered together from gold by a blacksmith. Lamp lenses replaced his eyes, yet they glowed with Cfiaosfire like the eyes of the other horses. He looked gangly and ungainly, yet I noticed he moved fluidly, and 1 heard no hollow ringing of metal on the ground as he pranced to her. She accepted him openly and announced to us his name was Grian.

  Taci paled noticeably as a huge white charger answered the Emerald Horse’s summons when she stepped forward. At first it looked normal to me, but as it approached the Emerald Horse I saw its mane and tail fell in ringlets that, while white, appeared made of chain mail. As I got a better look at the beast, I saw the whole of its flesh had the same texture as chain mail, and I had no doubt the hide would serve that purpose admirably. 1 felt certain 1 had seen it when the Emerald Horse stole Eirene’s horse, but 1 could not figure out why I would have remembered it in particular.

  Taci pulled herself up on its broad back. Their size difference made her look incredibly small perched on that huge animal. She slowly smiled and color returned to her face. “This horse’s name is Seilide.”

  1 nodded slowly. “She was Nagrendra’s horse once upon a time.” As I spoke those words, 1 wondered idly if my father had ever lost a horse to the Emerald Horse.

  Eirene turned to me. “I guess, for my temerity, I get to walk to the Necroleum.”

  The Emerald Horse neighed arrogantly at her.

  I gave him a harsh stare. “As magnificent as he is, 1 would think he can also be forgiving. Step forward.”

  Eirene did so, but the Emerald Horse neither neighed or stamped. He stood statue-still, one eye watching her and one watching his herd. No beast in the front rank moved, and I feared, for the barest of moments, Eirene had been right.

  Then, from the back, a horse leaped forward and soared over the rank of horses between him and the courtyard. He landed solidly on the dusty cobblestones, then reared up as the reflected light washed over his leathery skin. The mottled black-and-orange striping had taken on new dimensions, and the fangs in his mouth looked just a bit longer. Despite these changes, I had no difficulty recognizing the horse as Eirene’s mount, and neither did she.

  Eirene ran to the beast and hauled herself up onto his back. He nodded his head up and down, then proudly pranced past the other horses. Eirene hugged his neck, then smiled as broadly as I had ever seen her do. She glanced over at me and winked. “This is my horse, and 1 know his name is Trothgard.”

  The Emerald Horse turned toward the rest of his herd. He neighed, then charged toward them. They gave ground and scattered. A few stopped and turned back to look at him, but another charge sent them fleeing into the night. Rearing up, he neighed again, then came down on all four hooves and came to me.

  1 look around at the rest of our company. “Good, then we are prepared to travel tomorrow.” I saw Eirene bring her horse in line with Kit’s, and the two of them began to ride together. “Roarke suggested we get some sleep before tomorrow. We should set up a watch rotation.”

  Kit nodded. “Eirene and I will take first watch.
We’ll waken Taci and Donla for the second. You and Osane can have the last watch. We’ll let Roarke sleep, so he can be at his best tomorrow.”

  I agreed. The Emerald Horse struck a pose and froze into immobility. I followed the others into the interior of the mountain and rolled my blankets out on a clear floor space. As 1 lay down, a full day’s worth of exhaustion sank lead into .my bones. I fell asleep before my head hit the bunched cloak that served as a pillow.

  As tired as I was, I should have slept soundly, but 1 did not. I found myself locked into a dream of such clarity that I knew it had to be a nightmare. The second my eyes opened in that dreamworld I knew I wanted to quit it, but i also knew I could not. The feelings of desperation and doom I had felt in Castel Payne assaulted me again. Unable to resist, I let the dream carry me along.

  Behind and around me I saw Chaos Riders of every race and from every province. They sat astride mounts as strange and unique as those the Emerald Horse had claimed as his own. Amid our company 1 also saw dozens of hounds, including Cruach. I looked to see Roarke, but no one matched his description to my eyes. I did, however, see a man with dark hair and Chaosfire eyes whom 1 took to be Marija’s father, Seoirse.

  All of us riders had been changed by Chaos in one way or another. My cheekbones had thickened, sinking my eyes deeper into my head. Looking down at my own hands, 1 saw bony spurs on my wrists and atop my knuckles. I also saw countless scars crisscrossing the flesh of my hands and forearms.

  I looked up as a man reined his horse in before mine. He looked at me over two horns of fire, and I thought at first that he was Kit. The resemblance between the two of them was striking, but this man seemed taller and more thickly built than Kit. As the dream has changed me, so has it changed him.

  “You have a report?”