by Hugh Cook
'Be careful,' said Hearst.
'Trust me,' said Blackwood.
And Blackwood set out from Maf for the Salt Road. Hearst and Miphon eventually saw him intercept the horsemen. There was a long hiatus, and then the horsemen started to make for Maf. Blackwood was leading them to his comrades. i hope he knows what he's doing,' muttered Hearst. i trust him,' said Miphon.
'Yes, but…'
As the horsemen drew near, it became apparent that 528 they were fewer in number than they seemed to be at first. There were, in fact, only a score of horsemen; however, as each had a string of half a dozen mounts -to provide the changes needed for fast long-distance riding – they made quite a sizeable body when they were on the move.
As the riders came closer, Hearst recognised:
Blackwood. And -
Prince Comedo!
And-
Elkor Alish!
Smiling!
And, apart from that, precisely nineteen assorted troopers – Hearst, with a warriors's concern for the odds, counted them. Though it did not look like it was going to come to a fight. Instead, there was happiness all round. Mixed, though, with a fair bit of weariness -these horsemen had ridden long and hard.
'Greetings,' said Prince Comedo.
'My lord,' said Hearst, bowing.
'We understand you can save the world for us,' said Comedo, who looked pale and drawn. 'Accordingly, we have made a treaty with you. Tell him the terms.'
And he nodded at Blackwood.
'The good and gracious Lord Emperor Comedo,' said Blackwood, 'Master of all of Argan, Commander of the Central Ocean, terror of all lands beneath the stars, ruler of Powers and Thrones, deeds to the three of us, as a token of gratitude for the performance of deeds now promised, the suzerainty of the Greater Teeth and of the Lesser.'
'My lord is very gracious,' said Hearst, keeping a straight face and managing a bow.
He urgently wanted this charade to end. He wanted to talk to Elkor Alish. Alish! Really there! On a horse! Just a few paces away! Alish, smiling! 'For his part,' said Blackwood, 'the good and gracious Lord Emperor Comedo will allow us full use of the red bottle which is his by virtue of his treaty with the High Priest of all Gods and all Demons, Valarkin of Estar.'
'Valarkin!' said Hearst, with shock and surprise.
'The High Priest of all Gods and all Demons,' drawled Alish, 'is currently at the southern border with our death-stone. It worked once, then refused to work again. He thinks it'll come to life in due course. I think he's wrong, which is why we're on our way north. With… this.'
And he patted the red bottle hanging from his belt.
'We have,' said Alish, 'most of our army within. Including troops from Rovac. They did come, Morgan, I called, and they came. I, you see… did my best.'
There was something strange in his voice. What? Tension. Not anger, surely. Not hate? Or was it? 'So much for the red bottle and the death-stone,' said Hearst. 'What about the green bottle? Valarkin got his hands on that, too.'
'Oh, the green bottle,' said Alish. 'Oh, that. I gave that to a pirate as a love-offering.'
'No!' cried Hearst, in shock, pain, horror and disbelief.
'Yes,' said Alish, with a sardonic edge to his voice. 'And I promised that same pirate something else. Your head!'
And with that, Alish drew his sword. He urged his horse forward.
'Honour the Emperor!' screamed Blackwood. 'Honour the Emperor's treaty!'
A horseman tried to head Alish off. Alish cut him down. Comedo was shouting for Alish to stop.
'Are you with me, boys?' shouted Alish.
Some cried yes, but others – their Emperor was of the Favoured Blood – shouted no.
'Run!' said Hearst.
And Hearst, Blackwood and Miphon fled. Alish, unable to break free from the melee to follow them, screamed: 'Run then, Morgan, run! Run, you rat-spawn murderer! You can run, but you'll never find a hole that's safe from me!'
The Lord Emperor Comedo, titular ruler of all of Argan, ruler de jure of Estar, and ruler de facto of, perhaps, at least some of his own lice, died in the cavalry brawl at the foot of Maf, cut down by a trooper who wanted no part in treaties with wandering vagrants, and who sided instead with Elkor Alish.
He died with a sword in his hand, which was, some might say, to his credit; whatever the merits of his death, Elkor Alish, triumphant, made it positive and final by cutting off Comedo's head.
***
The rock chimney was narrow. It led almost straight up to a dark opening in the side of the mountain.
'That's the way,' said Hearst.
It led up into a system of tunnels and caves that could take them all the way to the top of Maf. From that vantage point, they could, on the morrow, command the mountain with their death-stone.
'Are you sure you remember the way?' said Miphon.
'Positive,' said Hearst, hoping.
'How do we climb up?' said Blackwood. 'We don't have a ladder.'
'Watch,' said Hearst.
And swarmed up the chimney, working with back, knees, feet, hand and hook-hand.
'If you get tired,' he shouted, before disappearing into the cave at the top, 'jam yourself in the crack, back against one wall, knees against the other.'
Blackwood and Miphon followed.
Hearst led them on, through the darkness.
It was a long, slow climb, with many twists and turnings, but at least they had the comfort of knowing that Alish could not follow them. Someone who did not know the way would soon get lost in amongst the caves and tunnels. When they got to the top, they would be safe. They would have no more worries until it was time to use the death-stone again, and take the mountain south to do battle with the Swarms.
***
At last, they saw ahead a glimmer of light.
'That's the dragon's lair,' said Hearst. 'Wait here, I'll go and see if it's all clear. If it is, we'll be able to get into the tunnel that takes us to the top.'
'Of course it'll be clear,' said Miphon. it's been seven seasons since the dragon Zenphos died,' said Hearst. 'That's time enough for another dragon to come here. Wait till I've had a look.'
'As you wish,' said Miphon.
'Don't take too long,' said Blackwood. i won't.'
Morgan Hearst drew his battlesword Hast and slipped forward through the gloom. Ahead of him the dragon's lair was lit by the fading light of the evening sky; they had indeed been a long time climbing up through the mountain.
Hearst saw the dragon's skeleton in the lair. So there was no new dragon living in this cave high up in the mountain of Maf. Good. He stepped into the lair.
And stopped.
And stared.
'Hello, Morgan,' said Elkor Alish. 'You!'
'Yes, me,' said Elkor Alish, smiling, i've been waiting here for some time. An interesting climb, isn't it?'
Elkor Alish had lost some of the skin of his fingertips 532 somewhere on the mountainside, but there was nothing else in his appearance to suggest he had found the climb difficult. 'Alish…'
'Here,' said Alish, drawing his sword, 'we have an ending.'
'Alish,' said Hearst, his voice low and urgent. "We've got to talk. I have to explain. We've misunderstood each other for a long time.'
'You wish to talk?' said Alish. 'Then let steel speak to steel!'
He attacked. Hearst barely parried the attack. They broke apart, both panting already, more from the shock of combat than anything else.
'Alish!' said Hearst, in desperation. 'We were friends once!'
'Were we?' said Alish, his voice rising to a shout as he moved in for the kill. 'Were we?'
Hearst had slipped the toe of his boot under a dragon's scale. He kicked it up toward Alish's face. Alish glimpsed something spinning toward him and slashed at it. His sword shattered the brittle scale into a thousand fragments. Catching that momentary opening, the point of Hearst's sword raked across his ribs.
Alish parried a second blow.
The lighters br
oke apart.
'Only a scratch,' said Alish, harshly.
Hearst said nothing.
'It was good though, good,' said Alish, bringing his breathing under control. 'You've improved.' Alish moved in again.
Hearst backpaced, leaping away like a dancer.
Swords clashed, once, twice, three times. Hearst came up against one of the ribs of the dragon. He slipped in under the arch of the ribcage. In amongst the ribs, where Alish would have no room for his fanciest bladework, Hearst would have his best chance.
'There's no place to hide,' said Alish. 'This is the sword Raunen Song. The bright blade of vengeance. It's all over, Morgan. Ahyak Rovac!'
Screaming, Alish struck.
Metal rang against metal.
Alish beat down Hearst's sword and slashed for his throat. Hearst's right arm swept up. His steel hook caught Alish's blade. His own sword lunged for his rival's heart – but Alish sidestepped then backstepped, withdrawing out of reach.
'Good,' crooned Alish. 'Good, yes. You have, oh yes, my dearest Morgan, you have improved.'
His voice was soft, relaxed, silky.
Then, with a scream, he attacked, fast and furious, driving Hearst out of the rib-cage and into the open ground. Now there was no time to think, only to strike and react. Death matched death in a blur of shadow and light.
Momentarily, their blades locked, hilt to hilt. Alish spat.
And Hearst slashed him with his right-hand hook.
Alish screamed in agony. His left eye was gone, his face torn open. He took a wild swing at Hearst, who parried the blow.
'Yield,' said Hearst.
Alish swore at him.
Then attacked, striking furious blows in a berserker rage. Though Alish had lost one eye, the best Hearst could do was force him to give ground.
That he did.
Hearst started to manoeuvre Alish toward the edge of the cave. He would force Alish to step back into that gulf of air, if that was the only way to end the fight.
'No,' said Alish.
He knew what Hearst was trying to do. Hearst said nothing, but slashed and thrust. 'No,' said Alish, desperate now. 'Yield!' hissed Hearst. 'No!' cried Alish.
They were near the lip of the cave. In the air outside, Hearst saw – what? Distracted, he failed to turn a blow. Alish's blade ripped his sword-arm open. His weapon went flying. Hearst dived sideways, making a desperate attempt to recover his blade, and Alish – Screamed!
Alish screamed like the voice that will scream at the end of the world. His sword fell from his hands and clattered on the rock floor of the cave. Hearst looked up. He saw Alish in the grips of the grapple-hooks of a Neversh. Then the two huge feeding spikes drove home. Alish's body jerked. His mouth gaped open. His whole body shuddered – then was still.
And silent.
Hearst got to his knees and watched as the Neversh carried the body away into the sky. He staggered to his feet, and tottered to the edge of the cave. He almost fell, but steadied himself just in time.
He could not see where the Neversh had gone to.
Helplessly, he began to weep.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
They waited out the next day on the top of Maf. From dawn to dusk they had nothing to eat; there was, however, a little water, gathered in pools on the mountaintop. From time to time, they tried the death-stone, but it refused to work. Night fell.
Some time during the night, Miphon tried the death-stone again, and felt it kick in his hand like a living heart.
'Gather close!' he shouted.
The other two sat at his feet. Miphon cried out the Words, and the familiar yet still terrifying power began its work.
The mountain of Maf came to life.
And, immediately, began to storm toward the east. Miphon tested its will, and found it strong, savage, ferocious.
'Miphon!' cried Hearst, trying to make sense of the reeling stars in the sky above, i think we're going the wrong way!'
'Too bad!' said Miphon.
From the Meditations, he had gathered enough power to bring the mountain under control if he really had to. But he wanted to conserve his strength, not exhaust it by doing battle with the mountain at the outset.
Miphon let the mountain run rampaging through the night. Then, hint by hint, he began to nudge it south. Dawn found them storming south on a course parallel with the Salt Road.
Cold, weary, hungry, they watched the landscape 536 lurching past. They had no words for each other this morning. They watched the sky for the Neversh. Hearst, after a while, fell asleep; he dreamt of the Neversh, and he dreamt of the shade of Elkor Alish, wandering without comfort or guidance in the darkness of hollow wind.
When Hearst woke, Miphon changed the dressing on his wounded sword-arm.
'Satisfied?' said Hearst.
'I think it'll heal,' said Miphon.
'Let's hope we live long enough to find out.'
The southern border drew steadily nearer. Toward the end of the day, they began to make out the details of how things had changed. A number of small mountains had moved, but most had not gone far. One had made the mistake of blundering into the sea; withdrawing from the water, it had parked itself half-way across the open seashore strip where the Salt Road ran; there was now only a breach some two hundred paces wide to guard against the Swarms.
'No sign of any of the Swarms,' said Blackwood. i'm not surprised!' said Miphon.
In the very recent past, they had smashed thousands and thousands of the creatures of the Swarms as they drove a mountain toward Estar. Since then, a death-stone had been used against the Swarms at the border. Obviously the enemy had taken fearful losses; it was scarcely surprising that their advance had been checked.
The fire dyke and the makeshift fortifications the travellers had seen when they skirted the border had disappeared without a trace, obliterated by monstering mountains or the action of the death-stone.
'Somewhere here,' said Blackwood, peering ahead, 'is Valarkin.'
'With a death-stone,' said Miphon.
'Charming,' said Hearst.
'We'll make an alliance with him,' said Miphon, with 537 determination in his voice. 'We have to. He has a death-stone. He may also have the green bottle.'
'Alish said – ' began Blackwood.
'Don't believe what Alish said about the green bottle,' said Miphon. 'Nobody would give away anything like that. Someone's got it right now, and the obvious person is Valarkin.'
'So we find Valarkin,' said Hearst.
'That's right,' said Miphon. 'Then I seal the border with this mountain. Then we wait, so I can be sure it doesn't move away until it's frozen back into inert stone.'
'But if we wait,' protested Blackwood, 'we'll be at danger from the Neversh!'
'We owe our grief a death,' said Hearst grimly.
But, if the Rovac warrior had commitments to death, Blackwood did not. Now that they had come so far, now that they had survived so much, there was no way that he could accept death as inevitable. Well, perhaps the Neversh would not attack them during the two or three days they would have to wait at the border. Perhaps – 'Look!' said Hearst, pointing. 'To the east! Something on that bald mountain-top!'
'Are you sure?' said Miphon. i don't see anything!' said Blackwood.
'Bear east,' commanded Hearst.
Miphon hinted to the mountain. His subtle urging made Maf slow, then veer east. He was getting good at this.
As they drew near the bald mountain Hearst had indicated, they saw a tent, a banner, a handful of men.
'Valarkin must be there,' said Hearst.
'We'd better not go closer,' said Blackwood. 'We may frighten him.'
'Frighten him!' said Hearst. T don't care if we frighten him out of his breakfast! If we're going to have to bargain with him, let's soften him up first.' i don't think – ' began Blackwood.
'Good,' said Hearst. 'We've no need for thinking now. Just action.'
They came closer and closer to the tent, which was perched on
a sheer cliff face. As they came within hailing distance, men, terrified, stared at them in awestricken silence.
'Hoy,' yelled Hearst. 'You on the mountain!'
Nobody responded.
They seemed paralysed by terror.
'There's Valarkin!' said Blackwood. 'By the tent!'
Valarkin! Yes, Blackwood was right.
'Hello there, Valarkin!' roared Hearst.
Straight away, Valarkin whipped out the death-stone.
'No, Valarkin,' shouted Hearst. 'No!'
But it was too late. Valarkin cried out in the High Speech. And Miphon shouted: 'Segenarith!'
Valarkin cried out in pain as the death-stone grew hot in his hand. He dropped it. His men were running in panic, scattering in all directions.
'Come back!' yelled Blackwood. 'Come back, we'll take you aboard! Back here, or you're dead!'
But, if anyone heard him, nobody obeyed.
'Leave them,' said Hearst, harshly. 'Let's get out of here.'
Miphon began to urge the mountain. Slowly, as the fire of the death-stone grew and grew, the mountain backed off. They watched as a fireball swallowed the cliff-top. Valarkin must be dead by now – unless he had run swiftly, or unless, perhaps, he did have the green bottle in his possession, and had been able to take refuge.
Night was now falling.
By dawn, the southern border of Estar was a sea of flame as the death-stone, frustrated by the Ultimate Injunction, the command Segenarith, released its energies as heat. Steam rose in clouds from the sea where molten rock ran into the water. By now, the mountain of Maf had withdrawn ten leagues from the border.
Miphon made the mountain lie down on its side – a long, slow, difficult manoeuvre. The travellers descended to the ground, then Miphon made the mountain stand again.
Then Miphon used all his skill, talent and strength to work on the mind of Maf, and sent the mountain roaring south. His instructions would take it south into the fire raging on the border. It would stand in that fire. Heat would fuse rock with rock. The mountain would block the way that led into Estar, thus closing the border to all creatures of the Swarms except the Neversh. it is done,' said Miphon.