A Time of Ghosts

by Robert Holdstock

  They edged round the wall until they came to darkness and dropped again to scale the inner, and highest, wall. A few guards patrolled here but, unbothered for the moment by thoughts of siege, they were lax and inattentive. As Raven stared into the inner compound, that which backed on to the cliff itself, she saw the stone-walled houses, and tethered horses of noblemen.

  If Lifebane was here, then in one of those houses he would be eating, or drinking, or—most likely—fornicating.

  Raven alone dropped into the fort, darted between the small tents and corrals, making her way between the groups of soldiers sitting around their open fires, until she came to the handful of closely allied buildings.

  It took only a moment to find him.

  Sword in hand she entered the torch-lit room of the largest house and crept up behind the muscular, golden-haired man who reclined in a metal bath of steaming water, humming contentedly to himself and moving slightly in rhythmical fashion.

  “Fight with that you have in your hand, Lifebane, or die now!” said Raven, unable to repress her grin.

  “By the All Mother!” yelled Lifebane, sloshing round in his bath and glaring at the intruder. Then: “Raven! By the Waves, Raven! What a joy to see you! ;Raven! Praise the Skies, this is the best thing that has happened to me for a month! Climb in…climb in!”

  “Kidnap Krya! Kidnap Krya! The thought disgusts me! The whole idea revolts me! I am amazed that I am being accused of it! Kidnap Krya! I, Lifebane, kidnap that flesh bag of bones and rotting meat! I, Gondar the Magnificent, scourge of High Seas and Low Seas, kidnap that…that…weasel! ;That ferret! I would no more strain my fingers touching her than I would make love to a sack filled with liquid pox. Why in all the seas and skies should I bother myself with such a pointless, pitiful conquest when I can loot trader vessels and slaved from all the lands of Worldheart? What need I with the mummified corpse of a crow that calls herself a living woman and is wife, sister, and probably brother too, knowing M’rystal, to the pompous, pock-arsed, pervert who rules in the east? By the Duds of the Sea Queen there is nothing in this at all—nor is there anything in the Duds of the Sea Queen, come to that! Oh Raven, how could you ever think me guilty of so empty a gesture?”

  Lifebane was angry.

  They were seated in the Sea Wolf’s house, around the remnants of a sumptuous meal, their minds hazy with the effects of home-fermented wine. Gondar, robed in furs, with his hair tied back in tight ringlets, his beard plaited and his ample waist squeezed tight by a leather belt form which hung his giant double-headed axe, stormed around the room hitting his meaty fists against the rafters. Each time he struck the wood the whole hose shook and the mercenaries winced and exchanged uneasy glances.

  “Krya is a beautiful and sensuous woman,” said Raven. Lifebane glared at her, but Raven remembered only Krya’s touch, the silkiness of her skin and the wonderful way she had aroused Raven’s body to such intense passion, that time in Kahrsaam. It was a sexual subtlety that Raven knew could be found only in other woman, and only certain women at that.

  The Sea Wolf said, “By a dog’s standard a dung pile is attractive. To the unblinking eye of a vulture a decaying corpse is paradise. By my estimation Krya is less than ugly! This, by the Waves, is beauty!” He touched Raven’s hair, ran his fingers lightly about her face. “And this too…” He pointed at Karmana, stared at the girl thoughtfully. “Yes—yes, beautiful indeed! But Krya? Pah!” He spat on the fire.

  For a while nobody seemed included to say anything more. Lifebane sat moodily on his cushions, sipping his wine and staring at the fire. Raven relaxed, and she could see Spellbinder doing the same.

  At length Lifebane snapped back to life. “Your arrival was guided by the forces of destiny,” he said loudly, slapping Raven painfully on the knee. “For tomorrow at dawn I return to the channel to supervise some more offensive action.”

  “Perhaps,” said Raven, “no action will be needed. We had to satisfy ourselves that you were not responsible for the kidnapping before we could do anything else, but now that we are convinced we can set about finding Krya, and convincing M’rystal that you are innocent.”

  Lifebane tugged at his flowing moustaches, staring at Raven as he considered her words. “You believe me, then?”

  “Of course.”

  Gondar grinned evilly. “It offends me that you ever doubted me…however, I shall forgive you. The Sea Wolves fight best at sea, not on land which is for burying things in, and building houses on. Yes, I’ll allow you to convince M’rystal to go away. I approve of that. I’d much rather you did it than me, I wouldn’t touch that viper for anything, not even conquest.” Raven did not fail to notice the twinkly in Lifebane’s eyes as he spoke. She grinned but said nothing. More seriously, then, the Sea Wolf said, “It seems likely to me that someone wanted the Altan out of his kingdom and far away. With most of his fleet here, and half his army, his lands are as vulnerable as a wench on all fours.”

  “Aye,” said Spellbinder, “my mind has been dwelling on that possibility and more.”

  Lifebane smacked his lips, half closed his eyes. “Aye, a big wench, with ripe haunches—”

  “Not on that possibility,” said Spellbinder sharply. “On the kidnapping being a way of making M’rystal leave his country unoccupied.”

  Lifebane waved him silent. “I have neither the mind nor the inclination to think too deeply about such complicated things.” He grinned, wiped grease from his drooping moustaches and reached for his goblet. He leaned close to Raven and winked at her. “Did you really suspect me?”

  “No,” said Raven, “but it occurred to me that someone might have been influencing you.”

  Lifebane was outraged, and roared the fact. “Influencing me! Me? Lifebanem the scourge of Worldheart? How dare you!” He turned to Spellbinder. “Who is this ugly woman, whose body is so flabby and uninviting? Who is this foul-mouthed bitch among bitches, whose sour breath and empty duds are so offensive to me?” He gave no one a chance to answer, turned quickly back to the grinning form of Raven and leaned close to her to whisper in her ear: “Spend this night with me, I desire you…”

  Spellbinder looked grim. “I knew it was a mistake to come here,” he said, bitterness tangible in his voice. Karmana and Silver, sitting apart of course, looked blank. Moonshadow ate quietly, watching everything. Arreena and Jirrem were elsewhere, united by mutual desire.

  “Then why did you?” snapped Lifebane. “You could have used a spell to find out whether I was innocent.”

  “I have no such spell,” said the warlock evenly. “And to consult an oracle, as we know, is a dangerous business. Half answers, and cryptic solutions are our reward. No, far better it was to come here direct.”

  “Besides,” said Raven pleasantly, “we want to borrow a wolf ship. The vessel we have is pitiful. It’s our price for helping you.”

  “You help me?” bawled Lifebane, deciding to forget what he had said earlier. “Lifebane needs no help! Lifebane kills, Lifebane destroys, Lifebane loots the high seas…”

  “Lifebane is backed into a corner,” interrupted Spellbinder, “and knows by all that’s damned that he needs help.”

  Lifebane jumped to his feet and unhooked his great axe, swung it through the air and let it fly at the rafters; the enormous blade thudded into the wood and stuck there; the house shook. Stones fell from the walls.

  Gondar turned angry eyes on Raven. “Who is this putrefying fish-cake of a sorcerer? Is he a friend of yours? If not then I shall slay him!”

  Spellbinder said, without inflection, “Tell this cliff-dwelling maggot of a warrior to sit down and pass the Saran wine. Not this Kragg abomination that scrapes the skin from my throat.”

  Silver, obviously, had no idea that some elaborate game was being played. He rose to his feet and slipped his blade from its scabbard, let his face blaze bright as the steel he pushed against Lifebane’s throat. Lifebane had not thought it necessary to have guards in the room with him, and now he froze, not prepared to ri
sk death.

  “You insult Raven, now you insult Spellbinder!” roared Silver, furious. “By the Three gems of Dirth, you deserve your tongue to be cut out.”

  Karmana laughed. “Don’t act like one of your tribe, as an imbecile. Sit down and do what you do best. Pass wind.”

  Silver looked over his shoulder at Raven, then at the others. When he looked back at Lifebane he realised that the Sea Wolf was holding something above his head. He looked up.

  With all the ease of a man breaking a straw, Lifebane had removed his axe from its deeply embedded position in the rafter. The gleaming edge was poised, ready to split Silver down to the groin. Silver backed away and sheathed his sword.

  Lifebane was impressed, however. “You have a high spirited crew, Raven. I like them. If this angry fellow guards your life as well as he guards your pride, he must be a great asset to you. Yes, worthy warriors. And handsome women,” he smiled at Karmana who kissed the air in front of her by way of response. Lifebane’s eyes were full of mischief as he looked back at his favourite woman. “I do need help, you’re right. And you shall have a ship, for if you can sail a wolf ship beyond the reef then it will mean M’rystal will have gone, and I cannot so disperse his fleet alone. How will you convince him?”

  “I have a plan,” said Spellbinder. “A spell for which I have saved my energy. It will convince the Altan of your innocence for it will show us who has really taken his wife.”

  Lifebane waved him silent again. “Enough. It sounds perfect.”

  In the quiet of the night, when the others were asleep nearby, Raven and Lifebane sat in his quarters and spoke of things past and things present. Gondar had stripped his loincloth and sword belt, and Raven relaxed in a lacy, transparent green gown that flowed about her exotically as she reclined on his couch.

  “This is a serious business, Gondar. Once we clear you with the Altan the real war begins.”

  Gondar walked over to sit beside her. He caressed her naked arms and she reached up to run her hands across the ridged muscles of his arms and chest. “War? Don’t you mean ‘search’?”

  Raven shook her head. “I mean war, Gondar. Spellbinder has sense a force of evil in the world. It appeared suddenly, and he fears it. He does not understand it. Can it possibly be coincidence that this business with Krya occurs at the same time?”

  Lifebane shrugged. “It could be. Coincidences depend on two things occurring coincidentally.” He grinned.

  Raven acknowledged that simple logic. “As you yourself have said, Gondar, there are forces at work trying to unite themselves with the Altanate—can it be anything else?—and perhaps with designs on uniting many lands. What power a minor king would possess if he won the Altanate! It might begin a process of unification that will quiet soon cover all the lands around the Ocean.”

  “That would be bad,” said Lifebane. “That much I know. My help, as I have said before, is yours for the asking.”

  Raven reached up and shook back her hair before kissing him. He tasted of wine and she smiled.

  He said, “Are you mine for tonight?”

  Raven shook her head. “No.”

  Frowning, Lifebane released her and peered querulously at the beautiful woman. “How so?”

  Raven merely shrugged. “My dear friend, there are times when it would be right…” Her eyes grew distant; she seemed to look beyond the Warlord of Kragg, beyond the stones of the house, to where some secret lover lay, perhaps. “And times when it would not be right.”

  “And tonight it is not right.”

  “Aye. Tonight I lay with no man. But I shall sleep closest to Spellbinder.”

  Lifebane inclined his head in acknowledgement. “I understand, sweet Raven. I dislike it, but I understand.”

  “You do? By the All Mother, Lifebane, you’re becoming soft!” She punched him hard in the stomach and he winced. Tugging his heard she swung her legs off the couch and leaned over to plant a firm and sensuous kiss upon his sea-beaten lips. When she rose he took her hips for a moment and pulled her body to his face, kissed the stiff buttons of her nipples through the clinging material of her gown.

  “There is none other like you, Raven.”

  “There is none like you, either.”

  “How horrible if the world were all alike.”

  Raven was surprised at this philosophical turn to the Sea Wolf. “I aim to prevent it ever being so,” she said.

  Nine

  “Though a tool be created with love, forged with care, its efficiency can only ever be relative. Fear not to acknowledge its redundancy—you will then make better tools.”

  The Books of Kharwhan

  There was a shortage of horses on Kragg, and in the Black Fort, so that the following day only Raven and Spellbinder rode in the saddle; the rest of the band made the bumpy and lengthy ride to the main stronghold in an open wagon. The metal-rimmed wheels were without any cushioning spring sand each time they struck a rock or a rut in the land the unhappy inhabitants were flung high, and groaning, into the air.

  Raven had never appreciated how big, and how beautiful, was the land atop the sea plateau of Kragg. The country rolled gently between ridges of dark, crystalline rock. Bright forests hugged these cliffs, and below them, making the most of their sheltered lees, were the farming communities of the island fortress, sprawling thatched houses, each big enough to take several families. All walls and fences were made from the dry stones that littered the land, and Lifebane assured Spellbinder, when he asked, that they made warm and wind-proof shelters, even when only two stones thick. The walls of the forts were thirty stones thick, and made a difficult barrier to cross, and a defence against the All Mother herself should she come for vengeance.

  Animals roamed wild, and dogs chased around them as they rode slowly towards the lowland at the end of the deep channel through the reef and the cliffs. Already Raven could see the red and white of the Altan’s sailing ships, distant, emerging from the haze across the ocean. The bulk of the fleet was hidden from view beneath the cliffs that rose on each side of the water channel.

  Thousands of men were camped on those cliffs, managing onagers, ramparts and even piles of boulders that would be pushed down on any ship foolish enough to try and enter that channel.

  “The Sea Wolves are apparently as at home on land as on the ocean,” observed Raven.

  Lifebane shook his head, the sun catching his great winged helmet in a brilliant, dazzling flash that made Raven wince. “Nay, lady, they are not. They long for the shifting planks of a ship’s deck, and the merciless pounding of a high sea. But they know that until they have defeated the Altan they will never step across the water again, so they take to the land out of necessity.”

  The journey from the Black Fort had taken the better part of a day, and it was dusk when they rode through the gates of Lifebane’s main Hold. No cheering crowds greeted him along the stony streets, and the train of men and carts clattered noisily towards the Keep until the ground became soft and muddy underfoot as they came into Lifebane’s courtyards.

  “When will you sail out to M’rystal?” asked the sea reiver later. He stared glumly at Raven, his golden hair matted and filthy with dust and sweat, his fingers tugging nervously at his drooping mustaches. He knew she would not stay long, and yet he longed for her to stay.

  “Immediately,” said Raven.

  They rested in Gondar’s main hall, sprawled on furs about an open fire, with goblets and plates of meat scattered around them. Raven felt grubby and sticky and longed for a warm tub of water, but she felt she did not want to waste the time.

  Karmana combed her long hair through, removing tangles and some dirt, then Raven took the comb and did the same for the northern girl, whose short hair was easier to manage. Lifebane watched with a smile, and a wistful expression in his eyes. Spellbinder moodily stared at the fire, his pale features aglow with the flickering red light, his body shimmering, encased as it was in black and bronze. He held his sword in his hands, the point buried in the pl
anking hall, the pommel radiating light in a multitude of colours as the firelight struck life into the jewels there. Raven noticed the thoughtfulness of her companion, commented upon it.

  Spellbinder looked up. “I gather strength,” he said. “Strength for a spell that is almost in my grasp. You shall see me at work, Raven, at work for the first time. You shall see me reach through time for the words and passes that make the spell come alive.” He looked back at the fire. “I sense it will exhaust me, but it shall be a great feat of necromancy, a great feat.”

  “Necromancy? Are you then calling up the dead? To what end?”

  “Dead yet net dead,” said Spellbinder cryptically. “Like your friend Donwayne. You shall see, lady, you shall see.”

  An hour later, refreshed and somewhat relaxed after the ride from the north, they all went down to the harbour. It was quiet dark, and the quayside was illuminated with torches. The deep channel rippled and reflected white as the half full moon moved steadily across the heavens. Raven looked at it, and at the quiet figure of Moonshadow, who gazed upon the half disc and seemed to be sucking strength from it. She wondered at the strange ailment of the man, that when the moon waned so did his strength, and when it waxed full so did his fighting spirit and strength of arm. What manner of man was this Moonshadow…what manner of curse did he labour under?

  A wolf boat, Wavecutter, had been made ready for Ravean, Lifebane’s willing gift for freedom or access to his wide and watery domain. The great sail was half unfurled, the sign of the All Mother exposed so that her strength and affection could guide the vessel safely from its haven. The black hull, near invisible against the dark waters, wallowed and splashed in the rippling tide. At the prow, two great torches burned, the truce sign of all nations.