Exile's Return

by Raymond E. Feist

  Eyes wide and filling with tears from the slap, Flynn looked up in astonishment as Kaspar came to stand over him. Pointing his finger at Flynn, Kaspar said, 'You'll not die until I tell you it's time to die. Do you understand?'

  Flynn sat stunned, then suddenly he laughed. He kept laughing until Kaspar realized he was verging on hysteria. Kaspar reached down, offering Flynn his hand, and pulled the other man to his feet. 'Get a hold of yourself,' he commanded, and Flynn's laughter ceased.

  Flynn shook his head. 'I don't know what happened to me.'

  'I do. It's despair. More men have died from that than all the wars in the world combined.'

  Flynn said, 'I guess there's no getting around it. If we're to find these Keepers, we need to go in there.'

  They picked up their burden and moved towards the cavernous opening. They climbed low broad steps into a large doorway and entered.

  They stopped in the center of the vast hall. A gray light infused the interior as if sunlight had been filtered through overcast skies. The walls, floors and ceilings all seemed to glow with a soft amber hue. The hall was empty, save for four huge stone thrones, two on either side of the hall. Kaspar looked at the closest one and said, 'There's writing on the base of the throne. It's in many languages. I can read the word Drusala.'

  'What does that mean?'

  'I don't know. Perhaps the name of the being who is supposed to sit on that throne. Or perhaps it's the name of a place whose ruler is supposed to rest here.'

  The only other feature of the hall was that the wall opposite gave way to a vast cavern, leading off into darkness.

  'I suppose that's the way we must go,' said Kaspar.

  'I wouldn't recommend it,' came a voice from behind. 'Unless you know exactly where you're going.'

  Both Kaspar and Flynn tried to turn, getting caught up in the rope harness they had rigged. By the time Kaspar had dropped his end of the armor and turned, the stranger was standing almost within touching distance.

  It was a woman of middle years, her head covered in a shawl, but enough of her hair showed to reveal some gray in the black. Her eyes were dark and her skin fair, but Kaspar suspected if she ever saw any sun she would be darker than she looked.

  There was something unworldly about her, but Kaspar couldn't put his finger on what it was. Perhaps it was simply the atmosphere of the place, and the fact that she had managed to approach undetected.

  'Stay your hand, Kaspar of Olasko. I am no threat to you.'

  Flynn appeared to be close to hysteria again. 'Who are you?'

  She seemed mildly amused by the question. 'Who am I?' She paused then said, 'I am . . . Call me Hildy.'

  Kaspar approached warily, his sword not entirely lowered. 'Forgive my trepidation, lady, for you must understand that lately my friend and I have been visited by more strange occur­rences and ill events than most men experience in a lifetime. Since we are hundreds of miles from what passes for civiliza­tion in these parts, and since there is apparently only one way into this hall, it's troubling to find anyone else here, no matter how unthreatening your demeanor. So please be forbearing if I am less than trusting at this time.'

  'I understand.'

  'Now, how do you know me?'

  'I know a great deal, Kaspar, son of Konstantine and Merianna, hereditary duke of Olasko, brother to Talia. I could recount your life from the moment of your birth until this minute, but we don't have the time.'

  'You're a witch!' cried Flynn, making a sign to ward off evil.

  'And you're a fool, Jerome Flynn, but after what you've been through, it's a surprise you're even sane.' She ignored Kaspar's sword and walked past him to stand next to Flynn. Touching him, she said, 'Your suffering will be over soon, I promise.'

  Flynn appeared like a man reborn. One instant he had looked on the verge of total collapse, and in the next he was a man refreshed, filled with joy and resolve. Unable to control the smile on his face, he said, 'How did you do that?'

  'A one-time acquaintance of mine refers to them as "tricks". I have more than a few.' She turned to look at Kaspar. 'As for who I am, you could not understand. Let's say that I am but an echo of the being I was in ages past, but contrary to the opinion of some, I'm not yet completely dead. I am here to help you, Kaspar; you and Jerome.'

  Kaspar turned to his companion. 'You know, I never knew your name was Jerome. I've just called you Flynn all these months. You never said.'

  'You never asked,' said Flynn. 'And you never told me you were the Duke of Olasko!' He laughed. 'I don't know why, but suddenly I feel wonderful.'

  'Magic,' said Kaspar. He nodded towards Hildy.

  'Only a little. I don't have much to spare, unfortunately.'

  'How did you know we were here?' asked Kaspar.

  'Oh, I've been keeping track of you for some time, really,' said Hildy, her dark eyes fixed upon Kaspar. 'It started quite by accident, really. You came to my attention when you entertained an old adversary of mine. He resided in your citadel and caused a great deal of trouble.'

  'Leso Varen.'

  She nodded. 'It's one of many names he's had over the years.' She turned and looked at Flynn. 'If you'll excuse us,' she said.

  Flynn quietly sat down on the floor, then slumped over and fell asleep.

  'I haven't much time. Even keeping up this . . . appearance is difficult for long periods. I know you have questions, but for the most part they must go begging. Here's what you need to know, Kaspar.'

  'Circumstances have brought you to a crossroads in the fate of nations and worlds, and even the tiniest choice may have consequences beyond imagining. You were, by any measure, a cold-hearted, mean bastard, Kaspar—a murderous, ambitious, unforgiving monster.'

  Kaspar said nothing. No one in his life had ever spoken to him in this way, and yet he was forced to admit that every word was true.

  'But you have a chance given to few men in their lifetime, a chance to change, to do something selfless and heroic, not because anyone will know, or even appreciate what you've done, but because it will restore some rightness to a world you've done your best to make wrong. It may mean the difference when you go before Lims-Kragma and are measured for your next life on the Wheel; you've spent mere weeks being a peasant farmer, so imagine what a lifetime of that would entail. Redeem yourself, and you may escape that fate.' With a slight smile she added, 'Though I doubt anything you could do would gain you another life of power and privilege.'

  'In a few minutes, Flynn will recover, and then you must enter the cavern. Therein is a path that runs beside a river. It is a difficult path to find, but if you search to the left-hand side you will find it. You must not cross that river, for on the other bank is the land of the dead.'

  'Stay on the path and you will find your way to the bastion on the mountain. There you will meet the Keepers. They will not want to speak to you. When they attempt to turn you away, give them this.' She held out her hand and Kaspar took a token from her. He examined it. It was a simple copper disk, with a rune on one side and the face of a woman on the other.

  'This looks like you.'

  'Yes, it does, doesn't it?' She waved away further questions. 'Time grows short. The Keepers will not give you much satis­faction, but you still must go there and learn what they have to teach you. Understand this: they will tell you the truth, but it is only the truth as they know it. Their perspective is limited. When you are finished there, you will understand where you must go next.'

  'But above all else, there is one thing you must believe. The fate of this world hangs by a thread. It has since an age before man, back in the time of the Chaos Wars. There are forces loose which are relentless: worse, they are clandestine and almost impossible to detect. You were the unwitting tool of these forces.'

  'Leso Varen,' said Kaspar, not surprised. 'He used me.'

  'As he has used others and will again.'

  'He's dead,' said Kaspar. 'Talwin Hawkins broke his neck.'

  'He's been dead before,' said Hildy. 'You
will discover should you cross paths with him again that he's like a cockroach. You just think you've stamped him out.'

  'If I see him again, I'll happily test the theory with a sword's point.'

  'You may not recognize him. He has the facility to change his appearance. He's an annoyance to me, but a deadly risk to you. If you ever face him again, you'll need powerful allies.'

  'Where shall I find them?'

  'You will find them when you get rid of that,' she said, indi­cating the armor.

  'What is that?'

  'Something left over from a time before man. You'll learn some of the truth from the Keepers.'

  'Now, I must depart. Wake Flynn and take him to the river, then follow the road. And remember, I have picked you, not Flynn. At the end, you will be alone.'

  She stepped back.

  'Wait!' he said, 'What do you mean "alone"?'

  But she was gone.

  Kaspar stood motionless for a moment, the sensations of contentment and pleasure he had experienced in her presence slipping away. When he turned, he found Flynn reviving.

  'Where is she?' Flynn asked, getting to his feet.

  'Gone,' said Kaspar. As he watched the color again drained from Flynn's face. Whatever good the woman had done had departed with her.

  'Come on,' said Kaspar. 'We've got a trip to take. At least now I know where we're going.' He studied his companion's face and knew Flynn was again in the grip of despair. Trying to force him to a better frame of mind, he said, 'It's not far.' He was lying, but he was concerned over Hildy's warning. 'And we can put this bloody thing down and get some hot food!'

  Flynn said nothing as he picked up the rope harness again and put it around his shoulders, then took up his backpack.

  Kaspar did likewise and when the armor was once more slung between the two men they set off.

  It seemed only a short walk to the entrance to the cavern, but it took a few minutes to reach it. If the hall was bathed in a soft amber glow, the cavern ahead defined gloom. There was a faint hint of light in the distance, so Kaspar felt no need to find material for torches. He doubted there would be any to find close by. He paused for an instant at the threshold, then entered.

  It seemed the faint light ahead kept retreating as they walked through the gloom of the cavern. At one point Flynn said, 'Where are we?'

  Kaspar replied, 'I never asked.' He judged it would be unwise to tell Flynn they were approaching the banks of the River of Death.

  The light started growing brighter, and at last they arrived at an opening into a much larger cavern. The rocks rose up beyond the eye's ability to follow them, and the surface looked odd and slippery. Kaspar walked over and touched it. It felt like soapstone. A broad river barred their way ahead, and in the distance something could be seen coming towards them. Kaspar sensed that whatever it was it had come from the opposite bank of the river. As it grew nearer, it resolved itself into the shape of a man in heavy robes sculling a wherry.

  'Kaspar,' said Flynn. 'Do we cross?' He put down his burden and quickly dropped the rope harness. 'I think we're supposed to cross.'

  The hairs on the back of Kaspar's neck rose as he realized where they were. 'Flynn, come back!' he shouted as his companion walked towards the ferry. 'We're in the Halls of the Dead! If you cross the river you enter Lims-Kragma's domain! We need to look for the path on this side.'

  He hurried after Flynn and grabbed him by the arm.

  Flynn turned and Kaspar saw an expression of utter relief on his face. 'No, it's over for me. I know that now. I'm crossing.'

  Kaspar released Flynn's arm as the ferry touched the shore. The ferryman held out his hand, as if beckoning.

  'He's waiting,' Flynn said. 'I must go.' He removed the pouch at his belt and handed it to Kaspar. 'The ring, and some other rare items.' Kaspar took the pouch and stood holding it as Flynn moved to the bank and climbed aboard the wherry. By the time Kaspar could react, the ferry was already away. Flynn looked over his shoulder. 'If you make it, find my family in Krondor, won't you? See they are all right?'

  Kaspar could say nothing. He watched his companion vanish into the mist on the river.

  Then he was alone.

  For the first time since beginning this strange odyssey Kaspar felt helpless. He looked down at the alien armor and almost gave in to despair. He stood motionless for a full five minutes, his mind reeling with the improbability of everything that had happened to him since he had lost his throne, then he started to laugh.

  He couldn't stop himself. If there had ever been a more colossal joke played upon a mortal by fate, he couldn't imagine what it was. He laughed until his sides ached, and realized he was verging on the same hysteria that had gripped Flynn.

  Throwing back his head he roared a primal challenge, giving voice to his defiance. 'Is this where it ends?' he screamed. With a single shout, he answered himself: 'No!' At last he regained control and softly added, 'It is not!'

  He gathered his wits and looked down at the armor. After lugging it halfway across this continent, he felt resigned to having to haul it the other half by himself.

  He gathered up the rope and fashioned a harness, which he worked around the armor, under the thing's armpits, and then he stood it on its feet. He got behind it and slipped his arms though the ropes and then leaned forward, hoisting the armor on his back.

  As fit as he had ever been in his life, Kaspar knew that he would be in agony when he reached wherever he was bound. But, as his father used to say to him, sooner begun, sooner finished.

  Pushing the image of Flynn vanishing into the gloom from his mind, Kaspar turned left, away from the river, and walked until he found a path.

  He couldn't tell how long he walked. His back ached and so did his feet, but he kept on. At some point he felt as if he were climbing, and then a short while later, he saw light ahead.

  He trudged upward, and found himself in another cave. This cave felt less eerie than the large cavern. He thought he must have crossed some sort of boundary and now was back in what he had come to think of as the ordinary world.

  At the far end of the cave, he saw light and he hurried towards it. He had no sense of time passing. He might have been in the cavern by the River of Death for days for all he knew. He wondered if people in there ever grew tired or hungry.

  He came out of a cave in the side of the mountain, emptying into a narrow trail that led up to the left and down to the right. He looked down, hoping that the bastion might be below, for a downhill walk seemed very appealing at the moment. From the angle of the sun he judged it to be nearly midday, so he must have been inside the mountain for at least one full day.

  He started upward.

  Kaspar had no measure of distance on this mountain, which irri­tated him. As a hunter he had prided himself on a keen sense of always knowing where he was. But he knew that time had passed. He had slept on the trail, lashed to the armor, after night fell, and it was again approaching midday when he saw the bastion in the distance. It seemed to sprout out of the face of the mountain itself, facing east towards the sun. By Kaspar's calculations, they had approached the City of the Dead Gods from the east, so he must have wended his way completely around the mountain to get here.

  He trudged up the trail and found that it ended before a large oak door which was wide enough to admit a small cart. He saw no handle, lever or knocker, so he balled his fist and pounded on the gate.

  Nothing happened for several minutes, then the door swung open. A man of advancing years, gray-haired and -bearded, in a simple brown homespun robe, opened the door. 'Yes?'

  'I seek the Keepers.'

  'They see no one,' the man said, about to close the door.

  'Kaspar, Duke of Olasko, is hardly "no one",' Kaspar replied, leaning on the gate. 'Here, show this to whoever you need to show it to.' He handed over the copper disc.

  The man looked at it and nodded. 'Wait here.'

  A few minutes later he returned with another even older man who asked, 'Who gav
e this to you?'

  'The woman whose likeness is engraved on it. She called herself Hildy, though I suspect that's not her real name.'

  'Indeed,' said the older man. 'You may enter.'

  Kaspar stepped inside and saw that he was in a small court­yard, most of which was occupied by a vegetable garden. When the gate was closed behind him, Kaspar unburdened himself of the armor.

  The two men looked at it, and the older one said, 'What is that?'

  'I was hoping you could tell me,' said Kaspar. 'The Father Elect of the Temple of Kalkin bid me bring this to you.'

  'What are we to do with it?' asked the younger of the men.

  'I have no idea,' said Kaspar, 'but nearly fifty men have died to bring it here.'

  'Oh, my,' said the younger man. 'That was hardly necessary. I mean, it's very nice, I'm sure, but as you can see, we have little need for armor here.'

  Kaspar said, 'I think you miss the point. I'm here to see the Keepers. Where may I find them?'

  The two men looked at one another. 'Why,' said the elder, 'we are the Keepers. You have found us. I am Jelemi, and this is Samas.' He pointed to the armor. 'Leave that there. No one will steal it.'

  Samas chuckled at the joke. 'We're the only ones here.'

  'Come inside,' said Jelemi. 'That disc you brought has earned you a meal, a warm bed, and some conversation before you leave tomorrow.'

  'Tomorrow?'

  'Yes,' said Samas, motioning Kaspar towards the entrance of the bastion. 'We are not permitted to entertain. It's part of our job. We must be vigilant and alert. Guests would distract us.'

  'Distract you from what?'

  'Why, protecting the gods, of course.'

  Kaspar faltered for a step, then got his feet back under him. He decided it would be best to sit down and get something to eat before he attempted to unravel this strange mystery.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Keepers

  Kaspar ate slowly.

  It wasn't until food was put before him that he realized he was famished. He also knew that if he ate quickly, he might earn himself stomach cramps. The meal was simple—boiled vegetables, bread baked a few days before, but still edible, a slice of very pungent but flavorful cheese, and a cup of water. Yet it was very satisfying.