A Blackbird In Silver (Book 1)

by Freda Warrington

  ‘You lie!’ Meshurek shouted. ‘I don’t need Meheg-Ba – he serves me!’

  ‘You serve him. But he has bled you dry – sucked all your intelligence, determination and judgment from you. And how has he increased Gorethria’s power? The Empire is falling into anarchy, all our father’s work undone. Even Gorethria herself is held together only by strands of evil magic. And that is because whatever the Shana might think they can do, in the end they can only fulfil the function for which they were made: to inflict the Serpent’s destruction upon the world. What is the use of power if it cannot be used to create – only to destroy?’

  ‘If we are weakened,’ Meshurek said, folding his arms, ‘it is your fault. You deserted me. You took the Egg-Stone.’

  ‘Can’t you see beyond your personal lust for the accursed Stone? Yes, it is my fault – I should never have fetched the thing in the first place,’ Ashurek said with bitter anger. ‘Those who bargain with demons are witless fools. The demon swore to me that if I fetched the Stone, Mother and Orkesh would be unharmed. He lied!’

  Meshurek hung his head and shuddered. But he persisted, ‘We must have the Egg-Stone back, Ashurek. Then Gorethria can be strong again. You want that, don’t you?’

  ‘Gorethria deserves to slide into hell! I don’t care about her damned strength or lack of it. I came back, as I said, only to help you. Meshurek, listen to me for once. The demon will never let you wield the Egg-Stone. You’re not strong enough. Meheg-Ba has reduced you to a husk and soon he will discard you altogether.’ Meshurek said nothing, but he began to tremble, looking nervously over his shoulder. ‘Come here and stand with us. When Meheg-Ba deigns to arrive, Silvren and I will combine our powers to banish him.’

  ‘Ashurek, this place,’ Silvren said faintly. ‘Look.’ She pointed to the far side of the crater where a section of the rock was becoming translucent, like smoky crystal. Through it were blending two silver figures: Meheg-Ba and the Shanin who had been pursuing Silvren, Diheg-El.

  Both glided forward and positioned themselves on either side of Meshurek.

  ‘Diheg-El,’ Silvren gasped. ‘Ashurek, there’s some strange force or magnetism here. Maybe the lava, I don’t know. It neutralises my power, I can’t do anything. They must have known…’

  That was why Meheg-Ba had wanted them here, not at the castle. Ashurek felt terror slide icily down his throat. Silvren helpless. He felt the Egg-Stone throbbing sluggishly and knew it would only work against him.

  ‘Greetings, Prince Ashurek,’ hissed Meheg-Ba. ‘You are most unfair to me. I did not harm your mother or sister; they chose their paths of their own free will. And now you try to turn my ally Meshurek against me.’

  Ashurek said nothing. Arguing with the demon was even more pointless than trying to reason with Meshurek.

  ‘Now that the Emperor Meshurek has finished prevaricating,’ the Shanin grinned, ‘it is time for us to conclude our business.’

  Ashurek and Silvren glanced at each other; a glance that confirmed there was no chance of planning an escape. He could have cried out with savage misery at the horror in Silvren’s eyes as she realised her imminent fate. Then there was a blaze of silver fire, faster than thought, and Ashurek crashed backwards into the rock wall. He lost consciousness for a second. When he recovered and pulled himself to his feet, he saw Silvren standing rigidly in Diheg-El’s grasp. She did not cry out; but she was white-faced and shuddering, her body tense with revulsion at the demon’s touch.

  ‘In the name of the Serpent, let her go!’ Ashurek screamed.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Meheg-Ba. ‘Now we can negotiate. Give me the Egg-Stone, and we will release Silvren.’

  Ashurek paused, glowering. He knew that he would feel appalling pain when he relinquished the Egg-Stone. For Silvren’s sake he was prepared to go through that fire; but he had to be sure Meheg-Ba would keep the bargain.

  ‘Don’t hesitate too long,’ the demon leered. ‘Would you prefer to deliver yourself into my service again?’

  ‘Never,’ Ashurek growled. ‘How can I be sure you won’t betray me?’

  ‘Diheg-El will loose the sorceress. As you give me the Egg-Stone, she will walk back to your side. Then you will both be allowed to go unharmed. But only if–’ the silver figure turned to look at Silvren, ‘you both swear never to defy us or the Serpent again.’

  Ashurek saw the cry of protest forming in Silvren’s eyes and quickly interjected, ‘Very well, so be it. Let her go!’

  Then Diheg-El relaxed its grasp on Silvren. She came forward a few paces and stopped as if her body were under the demon’s control. Ashurek, his eyes fixed on her, took the Egg-Stone off the chain that hung round his neck, and held it out towards Meheg-Ba.

  Meshurek was between them in a flash, moving with incredible speed to intercept the Egg-Stone. Before even Meheg-Ba could react, Meshurek tore it from his brother’s grasp, stumbled a few paces and turned, clutching it to his breast and laughing.

  Instantly, Ashurek was stricken by a sensation worse than pain, leaden veins of agony throbbing sickly through his body. And a ghastly emotion, like that which a demon might feel at the loss of its cruel, bloody power, seared his brain. But he did not forget Silvren. Through his blackened vision, he could perceive her being dragged by Diheg-El into the smoky crystal entrance to the Dark Regions. Crying out, he stumbled after them; but although he could still see Silvren’s figure, faintly, as it melted through the translucent rock layers, to him the wall was impenetrable.

  ‘Meheg-Ba!’ he screamed, anger, pain and grief battling in him. He stumbled along the rim of rock and confronted the Shanin, oblivious to the blood dripping from his hands where he had pounded the rock.

  ‘Don’t speak to me,’ said the demon, keeping its argent eyes fixed on Meshurek. ‘I did not break the bargain. Diheg-El wanted the wretched woman, not I; and he made no agreement with you.’

  Ashurek froze then. The pain from the loss of the Egg-Stone and Silvren were so intolerable that his mind seemed to be drifting above them, like a solitary, calm, evil eye. The scene continued, but in slow motion, and as though he knew everything that was going to happen next.

  ‘Meshurek, give me the Stone,’ said the demon. ‘I will take it from you eventually. You are not strong enough to keep it.’

  ‘Not strong enough?’ the Emperor panted, wild-eyed as a trapped animal. ‘What happened to all the strength you promised me? Ashurek was right. I was a fool to summon you. Now leave! I have no more use for you, betrayer!’

  ‘Meshurek.’ The demon was glowing brighter and brighter, gathering power with which to retake the Stone. ‘You cannot make me leave. There is only one way I can be banished, and you are hardly about to take your own life, are you? Remember – only my power now holds the Empire together. You do not know how to use the Stone. If I go, Gorethria will collapse.’

  At this, Ashurek’s mouth spread in a slow, humourless grin. All this time he had been drawing his sword from its sheath. Now he swung it towards Meshurek’s neck. It glittered as it caught reflected fires from the volcano. The movement seemed to take a thousand years; yet only at the last instant did Meheg-Ba and Meshurek remember he was there and react with astonished protests. Ashurek found time to pause and laugh at their sudden confusion. Then the swing continued, and the sword cleaved through Meshurek’s neck.

  The blow knocked both Emperor and Egg-Stone over the rim of the crater and into the broiling yellow lava below. A crust bore Meshurek’s body for a second; then it broke, and the molten heat swallowed him.

  Meheg-Ba uttered a roar and turned upon Ashurek like a dreadful basilisk of blood and acid. But the Summoner was dead. Even as the demon turned it vanished, returned by supernatural law to the Dark Regions. Ashurek was alone at the edge of the searing volcano, alone with the mourning, smoke- and mist-filled wind.

  Slowly he returned to himself. He was dizzy; the crater seemed to be tipping crazily from side to side. Putting a hand out to the rock wall to steady himself, he began to compreh
end what had just happened. ‘I have killed my brother. First Orkesh, now him!’ He found himself trembling convulsively, far beyond tears.

  Surely it is justice, he thought, that the royal house of Gorethria has come to grief and ruin in this way. Retribution for her centuries of tyranny. Of all my family, my crimes have been by far the worst. I, too, must die to complete the payment…

  He lifted his sword and stared grimly at its bloodied edge. And a voice cried, ‘Ashurek! Don’t!’

  His eyes refocused on the far side of the crater and he saw Silvren standing there. He realised at once that the image was not real; he could see straight through her slender form to the rock wall beyond.

  ‘Silvren?’ he said, lowering the blade. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘I haven’t escaped,’ she answered sadly. ‘This is only a mental projection of myself; I mustered enough power to create it and speak with you, but my sorcery is weakened and damaged. It may mend, but not here in the Dark Regions. I can never escape.’

  ‘I have been in that cursed hell-pit. I know.’

  ‘Ashurek – beloved – don’t despair. I came not to discuss my own agony, but to say that something good has come out of all this.’

  ‘Has it?’ he exclaimed. ‘I have murdered my own brother, whom I swore I would never harm. And now I have even lost you.’

  ‘But think – Meheg-Ba is banished from Earth, and the Egg-Stone gone as well. And Meshurek,’ she added gently, ‘in a way you have saved him. Normal life and freedom were lost to him. If you had not killed him, eventually Meheg-Ba would have dragged him down here to exist in misery forever. It was for the best. Now you must not give up; you must continue the fight.’

  ‘Is it worth it?’ he half-sobbed. ‘You and I together could not even reach the Blue Plane.’

  ‘For my sake, you must!’ she cried, struggling to hide her distress. The sight of her, and the impossibility of helping or even touching her, wrenched his heart.

  ‘It’s all right, Silvren – be calm,’ he responded. ‘For your sake, the fight against the Serpent will continue. What must I do?’

  ‘I don’t know – let me think.’ Her form was shimmering and fading as the effort of maintaining the projection became too great. She turned her head slightly to one side and gazed at the ground, as she often did when thinking. He had hardly noticed the gesture before; now it seemed achingly familiar. She looked up at him again, her golden eyes wide and intense.

  ‘Yes – you must go to Eldor. Tell him you have decided to destroy the Serpent. Ask his advice.’

  To destroy the Serpent; a vast and impossible task, like destroying all evil or slaying the world itself. Yet the undauntable bravery in her voice, issuing so faintly from her fragile, insubstantial form, encompassed the possibility that the task might be achieved; not by unrealistic hope, but by uncompromising determination.

  Her courage and love shamed him. Silvren had borne the leaden burden of her sorcery and learned to wield it – and risked being dragged down to hell by the enemies she made – because she felt the Earth was worth loving, worth saving.

  And Ashurek knew he would set out upon the Quest with all the wrong motives: bitter hatred, desire for revenge against the Shana and Gorethria and even against the world itself, and self-loathing. Silvren seemed to be voicing his thoughts as she spoke again.

  ‘Try not to seek revenge. Keep your thoughts on the Quest, not too much upon me. Remember, the Serpent is the essential root of all this evil. When it is dead, the Dark Regions will cease to exist, and I will be freed.’

  Freed? he thought. Not destroyed in that cataclysm? And what if, in spite of your trust and bravery, the Serpent truly is indestructible? Silvren – only you matter to me now. I care not about the Earth or the cursed Worm. If I can find a way to rescue you, and escape this damned world…

  He did not speak his chaotic, miserable thoughts. He fought and subdued them; then he said, ‘For you I will go to Eldor, and seek his help in this Quest.’ Still she looked at him, her eyes wide and anxious. ‘Not just for you, beloved,’ he added. ‘For myself as well.’

  At this she relaxed, almost smiled, held out her hands towards him. ‘Remember I love you,’ she said. Then a white shimmer coruscated along her form, and she was gone. For a while, panic and grief took Ashurek again; he ran to the part of the crater where the entrance to the Dark Regions had been and clawed at the opaque, blind rock. He called Silvren’s name without heed to the lonely, echoing walls. He sat down on a rock, barely noticing its scorching heat and, with his long, dark fingers entwined in his hair, he wept.

  I am now the Emperor of Gorethria, he thought. But I do not want the throne; let those left in Shalekahh ponder upon the mystery of what became of Meshurek and myself, and squabble like vultures over a carcass about how Gorethria shall be ruled. It is better so. Let them discover the hard, bitter way that only the Serpent truly rules; and that only men who are impossibly brave, or foolish or desperate, set themselves up as challengers to the Worm’s supremacy.

  He grinned to himself, like a skull, at this thought. Here am I, O M’gulfn, a mad and desperate man seeking to kill you. Are you afraid? Or will you crush me like a tiny, unnoticed insect?

  He got to his feet and strode away from the crater’s heat and down the grumbling side of the volcano. The ache of the Egg-Stone’s loss was still in him, but no worse than the other conflicting miseries that made up his dark psyche. In a few hours he gained the shore and hailed the Tearnian ship, which had waited for him… and for Silvren.

  Swiftly the vessel set sail for the South Pole and the House of Rede where he might find help in the Quest. And he spent much of the long, turbulent journey at the helm, staring into the distance as though seeking a reflection of hope in the waves or the sky. But all he saw was a dark wolf racing to its death, sometimes looking round, without success, for a glimpse of a blackbird’s eyes; then racing on again.

  Chapter Four. The Star of Filmoriel

  Ashurek ended his narrative standing with his back to them, his tall, cloaked figure silhouetted against the waning fire. Estarinel drew in a slow breath as if to speak, but the Gorethrian turned and silenced him with an icy glare.

  Estarinel was not even sure what he had been going to say. The truth about Ashurek was worse than he had imagined; but at the same time he felt sympathy for him so strong that it was a cold pain in all his limbs. The terrifying unknown was taking on its first faint shape as he perceived the reality of the grim world outside Forluin.

  To Ashurek, Estarinel’s expression was more explicit than any words; there was horror in his clear brown eyes, but also understanding, even compassion. Bitterly, he reflected that if he had had any capacity for trust or fellow-feeling left, he might have felt some for the Forluinishman. But events had eradicated most of his humanity.

  Ashurek turned his gaze to Medrian. By contrast her face was as cold and expressionless as it had been when they had first entered Eldor’s kitchen.

  ‘Well, Medrian,’ he said, breaking the uneasy silence. ‘What have you to tell us?’ She had been staring at the shadows cast on the walls by the red flickering of the fire, but now her eyes slowly refocused on him.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean, nothing?’ Ashurek asked. His tone was polite but his green eyes were sharp and malevolent.

  ‘I cannot tell you anything. Surely it is not compulsory,’ she replied shortly.

  ‘Estarinel and I have recounted our stories when we both would have preferred to remain silent. Is it too much to ask that you do the same?’

  ‘You don’t understand. I have no choice.’ She pushed a few strands of her black hair out of her eyes. Her voice was so quiet and flat that it was hard to hear what she was saying.

  ‘Could it be,’ Ashurek persisted, ‘that you are not totally committed to this Quest? How are we to know, unless you explain yourself?’

  ‘I have no choice,’ she repeated. ‘I can’t. But no one could be more committed than
I. Please take me at my word.’

  Ashurek continued to stare at her. Estarinel felt the force of his will, and he sensed Medrian’s distress like a taut cord that was stretching and stretching under the Gorethrian’s insistent gaze.

  ‘There’s no need to tell us anything if you don’t want to,’ Estarinel put in. ‘I’m sure your reasons are good. It can’t matter that much if we don’t know them.’

  ‘But it does,’ said Ashurek. He came forward and leaned on the table next to Estarinel, glaring intently at Medrian. ‘Why do you want to go on this Quest?’

  The silent tension deepened like the shadows in the recesses of the room. Estarinel fought a desire to make for the door. Surely the cord of pain within Medrian would stretch to infinity before it ever broke and gave her relief. At the same time, Ashurek’s force of personality seemed to make no real impression on her; she remained cold, self-contained, unmoved.

  Eventually she said, ‘You know what happened to Alaak, Ashurek. For some reason I survived. There is nothing left for me to do but try to destroy the ultimate evil of this world.’ Her words were ice crystals forming in the air.

  Unexpectedly, Ashurek seemed to find this explanation acceptable. ‘Obviously that will have to suffice for now,’ he said, his black cloak falling in folds round him as he sat next to Estarinel. ‘If that is your true reason, nothing could be more ironic, could it?’ She returned a small, icy smile; to Estarinel it seemed that she was laughing at some different, inward joke that was too horrible to be voiced. He noticed that the little colour in her face had drained away; even in the red firelight she looked grey. He had an impression of someone who was in such chronic pain that she had learned long ago never to betray it.

  ‘Now, Estarinel, what do you know of this ship?’ Ashurek was asking.

  ‘Er – you know as much as I,’ the Forluinishman replied diffidently, not expecting this turn in the conversation. ‘It will find an Entrance Point and take us to the Blue Plane.’