He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. “What must I know?”
“The bodies of the Daegmons may be slain,” Borodruin said.
Thimeon closed his eyes. An image of the battle scene at Gale Enebe flashed across his memory. “Yes,” he said. “We have done so once. Or so we thought.”
“You were not wrong,” Borodruin said. “Though not born like men, the Daegmons have taken form from the stuff of this earth. Like all bodies of flesh, they may suffer pain and even be killed. But you must listen. They have great power. In all of the books, there is no tale of a Daegmon killed by spear, sword, or arrow wielded by human strength alone. It is a vain effort to fight them as you would fight the armies of men. It is only in the presence of the Karsmose that their flesh may yield. For the All-Maker, knowing the battles to be fought, gave to men those gifts by which the enemy might be defeated. And other gifts as well, given for different reasons, because we live in a world of sorrow and pain. If the gifts are used well, in unity and humility and service of the giver, they will suffice for the battles we are given to fight.”
If they are used well? What did that mean? Thimeon wondered. But another concern was even more pressing. He thought again of the battle at Gale Enebe. A battle they thought they had won only at great cost: the lives of several of his companions. And even that victory had proven hollow. “We slayed a Daegmon,” he said in a soft voice. “As you said, we had many of the gifted there. The Karsmose, as you call them. And yet, even then, the Daegmon came back to life. Or so we think. When we returned to the battle scene, the body was gone. And a few days later it attacked another village.”
Borodruin shook his head. “Those are two different things. Though I was not there, if you say you killed the creature, then I would believe the Daegmon body really was dead. The flesh did not come back to life. How such a massive body disappeared, I do not know. They form their bodies from the substance of this earth, for they have no power to make substance of their own. It may be that when their spirit leaves the body, there is nothing to hold that dead substance together, and it simply disintegrates back to the earth. But that is all a guess, and perhaps it matters little. What matters is that the Daegmons are spirits. And even with the powers of the Karsmose, that spirit cannot be killed. If the body is killed, they are weakened for a time. The fleshless spirit is made impotent and must return to its master in Entain. So you did win a victory. Yet in time the master will form for them a new body and they will return.”
Thimeon’s despair rose. What good did the sword and book do him if the enemy could not be defeated?
Perhaps Borodruin knew Thimeon’s thoughts. Perhaps he did not. But his words spoke to Thimeon’s fear and confusion. “The war is old. It has continued for centuries, and perhaps it will not end for many generations to come. Entain wrestling against Illengond. Futile, some would call it, for the enemy is strong and does not relent. Yet it is not without hope. Eight of the creatures there once were, so the lore tells. But three of them were thrown into the abyss ages ago by the All-Maker. They can never again take shape or haunt this earth. Only five remain. With them are two Gaergaen, equal in power to the Daegmons and able to take the shapes of men. Other lesser beings there are also. And over them all, the Daegmon Lord of Entain—a being vastly far more powerful than the Daegmons themselves. A being for whom the Daegmons and Gaergaen are mere minions. A being intent on the rule of all Gondisle and the destruction of Mount Illengond.”
Thimeon’s spirit sank lower. An enemy even more powerful than the Daegmons? How were these words of hope?
“But Illengond has never fallen,” Borodruin went on. His voice held a new passion. “There have been ages of great darkness when the Daegmons seemed to rule over men without opposition. When men cried out wondering where their All-Maker was. And there have been ages when the enemy was thrown down. And though the hearts of men were never wholly free from evil, yet these victories have lasted, and for generations Gondisle had peace.”
Thimeon lifted his eyes to the rock ceiling above him and took a long, slow breath. So they might win a victory. Or they might enter another long age of darkness. He thought of his parents’ graves, side by side on a hill beside his farm. And the many other graves in Aeti, beside burned and smashed buildings. It seemed as if the age of darkness had already started. Yet Borodruin seemed to have hope. And knowledge also.
Thimeon turned back to the king’s former counselor. “Will you come with us? We are leaving the city. I must return to my companions, who even now are pursuing the Daegmon into the Undeani wilderness.”
The old man sighed and shook his head. “There is little I can do against the Daegmons. My own body is too old to travel. My work is here. I must resist the work of the Gaergaen as long as I can. And while I still live preserve what knowledge I have in my old head. If I survive this war, then maybe I will work to find other copies of the ancient books. But I do not want to seek them now for fear I will lead our enemy to them.”
“What are the Gaergaen?” Dhan asked.
“Creatures of kindred kind with the Daegmon and like to them in power. But instead of taking the form of great flying beasts, their spirits take on human flesh. And though they lack the physical power of the Daegmons, it is said they have an even greater type of power. I believe that Koranth is one of them.”
“Yes,” Thimeon said, shaking his head slowly. “When we were last here, Elynna sensed that he was not human—that he is kin to the Daegmons, or perhaps their servant.”
“Not their servant,” Borodruin corrected. “Indeed, it may be the other way around—that the Gaergaen have authority over the Daegmon. Yet all that means little. Remember what I told you? Over them all is a higher authority still—a power as much greater than theirs, as theirs is greater than ours.”
The words sank in this time. “More powerful than the Daegmons?” Thimeon asked in dismay. Again his face fell, and he dropped back to the ground. “With each minute I listen to you, my courage lessens. I almost wish I had never met you. At least then I could have hoped. What is the more powerful evil? And what other ill news do you have for us?”
Borodruin placed a hand on Thimeon’s shoulder. “If you are looking for reasons to fear, you will find many, and the Daegmon Lord is the greatest of them. The Daegmons and the Gaergaen are his chief minions in his long losing war against the All-Maker. But do not despair. The reason for hope is far greater than the reasons for fear. And that may be the greatest power of the book in your hand. The power of hope. For I speak the truth when I say that the long war, though grievous, is one that the Daegmon Lord will lose.”
Thimeon tried to take comfort in these words. But the knowledge that he had given the stone into the hands of one of the gifted weighed him down.
Borodruin lowered his hand and turned to the prince. “Surely news of the Daegmon Lord is not new. The battle is from ages past—the fire-filled mountains of Entain against the peak of Illengond. And it will not end until the All-Maker chooses to bring time itself to a rebirth and the world of his creation to its newness. It is said that he will do that by entering into his world in a new way. What that way is, I do not know. But I do not call that news ill. Not like when a crow brings tidings of a coming storm. More like when the morning star foretells the approach of dawn, even if that foretelling happens at the darkest moment of the night.”
Dhan spoke the words in Thimeon’s mind. “You speak in mystery. How that is to bring any hope, I don’t know. Unless you know this war is ending.”
Borodruin shook his head. “For now, I know only that the war goes on, for we can never of our strength defeat the Daegmon Lord.”
Thimeon’s voice gurgled up out of the pit in his stomach. “Then how can we hope to win?”
“Do you mean win the war?” Borodruin asked. “Listen to what I am saying! You cannot. But you can win the one battle in which you have been joined.”
“But how can we win even that?” Thimeon asked. “We have barely sufficed against one Daegmon. Now you tell us there are five and over them all a Daegmon Lord who is far more powerful.”
“That is true. But it is also true that if you defeat the Daegmons, you defeat their lord—at least for a time. It is through his servants that the Daegmon Lord does his work. Beware especially of the Gaergaen. As you have seen, they take human form, and they hold great influence over the minds of those around them. If there is a seed of greed or jealousy, they will nourish it until they rule you.”
“How do you know so much of these creatures?” Dhan asked.
“I fear I know too little of them. Too little to help you, anyway. What I do know, I know from the archives that were destroyed. It may be that this knowledge now lives only in my memory. And from this,” he added, nodding toward the book he had given Thimeon. “It will not be what you expect, I think. Maybe it is not what you were looking for. Yet it may be what you need.”
“But how do you know that Koranth is one of them?” Dhan asked.
Thimeon answered before Borodruin could. “Elynna sensed it.”
“She is one of the Karsmose,” Borodruin added. “I guessed that even before you told me. That was why Koranth avoided her when first she came to Citadel and why he wanted her destroyed. He feared her, or if not her, he feared the knowledge she possessed. But now the time for questions is over. I cannot come with you. My task in this first battle is done. I am too old to accompany you on the journey you must make. But don’t fear for me. I still have friends. And I have my own great task left to me—one maybe nobody else can do. I can disappear in the city and spend my days writing down what was lost in those books, for I learned many passages by heart, word for word. I will set myself to recovering what I can.”
“How will you get out of the castle?” Dhan queried. “The alarm has been sounded. Once Koranth discovers our absence, the gates will be closed against us. If he discovered the treasure chamber, he must already know of the other secret passages. He will search for me. The only other way to escape the castle is through a tunnel that leads out to the cliffs—”
“Then you haven’t explored all these ways yet?” Borodruin interrupted.
The knot in Thimeon’s gut loosened slightly. He looked at the prince. His eyes lit with hope as the old counselor wagged his head at him. “What did I teach you all those years back? It’s just a matter of thoroughness,” the old counselor said. He turned and pointed to a small hole in the wall of the cavern just a few feet away. “You can go that way. You might have to squeeze a bit. Follow it down as it bends around to the left. You’ll come to an underground stream running right under the city. There must be a dozen wells in Citadel you could climb up out of from there. Or take the first right turn and crawl half a mile or so—or swim if the water is high—and you’ll find yourself in a farmer’s well several hundred feet outside the wall of Citadel to the east.”
“That is to say,” he added a moment later, “if things have not changed since I went that way forty years ago. You will have to discover for yourself. That is the first step of your task—one that awaits you now. And, if recent rumors have not led me astray, you have other companions with you? Go and find them.”
Thimeon and Dhan thanked him, and they turned to go.
“One other thing,” Borodruin said as they walked away. “I have good reason to believe that your enemies in Citadel have not yet discovered this set of passages. There are but two entrances from inside the castle. But they may be looking for them, for they have a guess—one I think may be close to the truth?—that those who escaped a few days ago did so across the river. They will have their eyes on the cliffs.”
Dhan thanked him again. Then they picked up their lantern and started back up the way they had come.
24
ESCAPE PLAN
“Where have you been?” the duke asked.
“More importantly” Jhaban added, “do you have a plan?”
“Should we go back for Terrid and Llatru?” Rhaan asked.
“That’s my vote too,” the duke said. “They were good men. I hate to see them sacrificed.”
Thimeon was breathing hard. He and Dhan had hurried back through the passages and up several flights of stairs to rejoin the rest of their small band of escapees. He looked at the prince, waiting for him to answer.
Dhan shook his head. “I don’t want to leave them behind any more than you, and if it was just a matter of my own life, I’d be the first to return. But there is more at stake.”
“I don’t understand,” Kachtin said.
“No,” the prince acknowledged. “Because the king—my own father—has kept the truth hidden from you. There is a war going on. Gondisle is besieged. Our people have been slaughtered.”
“And sold to slavery” Jhaban added.
The prince looked at him. “I do not know of what you speak, but I would not doubt it. For now, however, we have an enemy. Thimeon has companions who have been fighting them. This war has been going on for months while the folk of Citadel have ignored it, or denied it, or just hidden.” He turned to Kachtin and Banthros. “Your own people have sent emissaries to the throne, but they were turned away. The same with the folk of the Plains,” he added to Rhaan. “And all the while, the greatest evil was right here among us.”
“You mean Koranth?” Armas asked.
“We needn’t be told Koranth was evil,” Jhaban spat out. “For years he has secretly dealt in slaves, and now he brings that practice to the whole kingdom. For that alone I am willing to rebel against the throne whether the tale of Daegmons is true or not.”
“The tales are true,” Thimeon said. “I have seen at least one of the creatures. I have fought against it, and I have tasted its destructive power in my own village. We must destroy them, or they will destroy Gondisle. Or enslave it.”
“And Koranth is one of them,” the prince went on. “He is the enemy. And what he wants most right now is not us but the sword and book I have in my hand. We need to get them to Thimeon’s companions.”
The others gazed in wonder. “Where did those come from?” Siyen asked.
“Borodruin, my old teacher and counselor, is down here hiding. He just gave them to us. And if he is right, these are critical to the battle against the Daegmons. We must get these out of the city and bring them to Thimeon’s companions in the mountains. We will have to trust that Terrid and Llatru can get out on their own. If we succeed in our task, then we can return here and face the evil in Citadel.”
“They’ll have as good a chance as we do,” Rhaan said with a laugh. “They were still in uniform, and few of the guards even know they were supposed to be imprisoned—except Golach and his ilk, but they are all out of the castle now anyway. Thanks to Koranth’s secrecy, nobody knows who’s been imprisoned. All Terrid and Llatru need to do is pretend to join the chase for us, and they can just walk out the front gate.”
“How will they know where to meet us?” Thimeon asked.
“I’ll get word to them,” was Dhan’s reply. “Once outside the city, we also need to find a way to contact your merchant friend.”
“And Lyn,” Siyen added.
Thimeon nodded. Soon he and Dhan were leading the others back down toward the chamber where they had met Borodruin. He was gone when they arrived, but following the old counselor’s instructions, they ducked through the low entrance and started down the tunnel. Unlike the hard granite passageways nearer the dungeon, this tunnel was natural, formed long ago perhaps by a subterranean stream. The walls and floor were of layered shale that cracked and flaked underfoot.
Dhan led the way, carrying one of the two lanterns. Thimeon came next, followed by Siyen, the duke, the other officers, and finally Kayam with the second lantern. In many places they had to crawl on their hands and knees. As Borodruin had told them, the tunnel dropped sharply, winding
to the left as it went. Before long the rock grew wet, and Thimeon could see water trickling down the walls. As they approached the end of the descent, he heard running water. Soon a small stream appeared to the right. There the tunnel leveled out and ran along a narrow ledge beside the water. They alternately walked and crawled for several minutes.
After about twenty minutes, the tunnel opened up, and they came upon a pool about a dozen yards across. A wide shelf ended abruptly at the near edge of the pool, but the lantern cast enough light across the water that Thimeon could see where the tunnel continued on the other side. The others crowded behind Dhan and Thimeon and stared across. “I don’t see a way around,” Dhan said after glancing around both sides. “Even if it weren’t for the low ceilings, I doubt we could jump it. Too wide.”
Thimeon took a spear from Banthros to test its depth. Even with his arm extended, he could not touch the bottom. “We’ll have to swim,” he announced.
“So much for Citadel’s drinking water,” Kayam grunted. He pushed Thimeon to the side, handed him the lantern, stepped into the water, and disappeared below the surface like a rock. Thimeon stared at the small ripples that were the only evidence of his passing.
“What on earth—?” Dhan said, but Kayam reappeared a few seconds later, spluttering.
“Colder than I thought.” The old palace guard gasped. “We won’t want to be in this water long.” A few seconds later, he stood dripping on the far side. Soon they all had crossed the pool and stood cold and wet alongside him. Thimeon and Dhan entered the pool last and managed to swim across keeping the lanterns and the prized tome out of the water. They wrung out their clothes as best as they could, and those with weapons wiped them off, but Thimeon was wet and uncomfortable as they started along the tunnel again. The way went another hundred yards. It rose gradually for half the distance, then fell away more steeply for the second half. Then they came to another pool of water; only, it was much smaller, and a shaft led straight up above it. Sixty or seventy feet overhead, morning sunlight filtered through some cracks revealing the dim outline of an old well cover. Thimeon, Dhan, and Siyen stood crowded at the edge of the tunnel looking up and down while the others waited behind them, trying to peer around.
The Betrayed Page 24