‘They have a chance to alter history’s course. To change the principles on which humankind bases its actions. Whoever gains ascendancy at the time of the Concordance shall choose the method by which Man seeks salvation.’
‘But no path is certain, surely, Sir?’
‘No path is certain. But it is not my place to show bias.’
‘Surely you’ve shown that already, Sir, by bringing me here? If you are indeed Lucifer!’
‘But what shall you choose, von Bek? I cannot know that. I gather you ally yourself with the Duchess of Crete.’
‘It seems so, yes. If she still lives.’
‘I know her family well. Questing and questioning minds, all of them. They’ve had an eye on the Grail before. And you also seek that cup again, eh? The Grail scents von Bek blood, perhaps, and awaits its trusted friend. Or shall it find its own way to you? What do you think, Sir?’
‘Nothing, Sir. Not about the Grail. Those are riddles you are better equipped to answer than myself.’
The creature seemed pleased with my obstinacy and laughed softly. ‘I cannot tell you where the Grail is, nor indeed which guise it presently prefers. Neither could I say if you would benefit from finding it or harm us both! But I’m Lucifer, you see, Child of the Dawn. ’Tis in my nature to take a risk. I’ll gamble on you, Sir, as I did on your ancestor, and trust you’ll act to our mutual benefit!’
‘Gamble, Sir? I’ve been told God gave you whole charge of these Earthly realms.’
‘So He did, Sir.’
‘Then your power must be considerable. Enough to determine any issue! Any fate!’
‘My bargain with God included the undertaking that I should play no direct part, merely supervise mankind’s self-redemption. Like yourself, my agents are those whose independence of thought is already well-established.’
‘This sounds close to Satan’s famous flattery, Sir.’ I was honestly amused. ‘Do you speak of Klosterheim? Montsorbier? Von Bresnvorts? The coven that pursues me even now?’
‘Not one of them serves me, von Bek. Those who make free with my name would as easily make free with God’s if they believed it helped their interest. They identify me with their own corrupt desire for domination of mankind. Klosterheim will bring war to Heaven and Hell if he can. His relation to me is quite different. Oh, I’ll not deny the perverse and bestial aspect’s in me; but while I despise and tame it, they celebrate it. Those depraved creatures, I repeat, are no more my servants than Klosterheim is God’s.’
‘Sir, I’ll take your word ye’re Satan, and sincere. But I must know where Libussa and myself feature in this grand scheme.’
‘She believes you’re two halves of the same apple.’
‘She does not serve you?’
The golden shoulders shrugged. ‘Who can say? If her will’s strong enough she could well prove every claim she makes for you both and determine what is real and what is mere abstraction. Now’s her chance, along with the rest, to make dreams actual. I would guess she is the strongest of them. But she could destroy you ultimately, Sir, and thus do damage to my own hopes, too. The choice, I suppose, shall come to rest with you…’
‘I fail to understand how fresh realities can be created.’
‘Only at the Time of the Concordance. And by the exercise of monstrous will. Redefine the terms by which Man views the world, and thus eventually you redefine the world itself. So you see, Sir, the stakes are very high in this adventure.’
The prospect weighed heavily on my mind. ‘So why, Sir, did you bring me here?’
‘I did not. You do me great credit if you think I engineered your movements! Since Switzerland I’ve attempted to place myself somewhere along your route. In Prague, in the Carpathians… You were never long enough alone! Well, Sir, here’s my reason for wishing to see you – you’ve heard of Paracelsus? He’s said to be the originator of most ideas in your modern natural philosophy.’
‘Aye, I’ve heard Klosterheim speak of him quite recently. A respected alchemist, thought to be the base of the Faust story. Others call him a charlatan, I know. All agree he drank too much and was an unpopular employee.’
‘He was everything they claim, possessed of considerable intellect and gross appetites, an innovator of the most accurate instincts. His logic and character were sometimes flawed, but perhaps it took a self-indulgent, self-loving creature like him to map the crooked paths to fresh understanding…’
‘It’s a view commonly held these days, Sir. Klosterheim mentioned a sword.’
‘Exactly, Sir!’ The demon seemed delighted. ‘That sword protected him against his enemies. No matter what his excesses, or whom he offended, or what danger threatened, his sword always saved him. One drunken Summer evening, here in Mirenburg, on his way back to Prague, Paracelsus embarked upon a programme of wenching and guzzling so thorough that even he became fascinated by the range and duration of his own capacities. At last he traded his sword for the favours of (in his own words) a common pox-box and two bottles of inferior Moldavian wine. Soon after, as you’d guess Sir, he died in mysterious circumstances. Whereupon his legend continued to grow unabated. The sword was already too powerful and strange an object for his terrified debtor, who relieved himself of it to a Moroccan conjuror who in turn, when he understood what he owned, also became uneasy. The blade had unusual properties.’ Lucifer’s great frame began to move across the room. It was as if the sunlight followed His outline. I caught a glimpse of perfect features and was entranced. ‘He buried it. The gentleman who eventually unearthed the sword traded it, so he believed, for the return of his immortal soul. Well, you must know I claim nothing of that sort now. Souls, as well as living people, await the outcome of my Guardianship. My agent was, perhaps, a little vague in the matter. Nonetheless, he obtained the Sword of Paracelsus and I have kept it until now.’
I had the impression Lucifer was smiling. This was my mother, Libussa, my father, my dreams of Man’s salvation – all I had ever loved! My impulse was to fall on my knees before Him!
‘It is over there, von Bek.’ The gestures were delicate, tender. I reminded myself He was, after all, an angel, albeit a fallen one, and it was not surprising I should be thus impressed. In the furthest corner of the hall, beyond the sunbeam, something flickered; something glowed. It could be a volatile mineral or even flesh. I moved one slow step at a time until I stopped, the shaft of sunlight still between me and a long, flat-hilted, round-pommelled sword leaning against the wall, as if casually abandoned.
‘Put down your torch, Sir,’ said Lucifer. ‘It’s of little use presently. Put it on the floor, Sir. No harm will come to you.’
I lowered the flambeau to the floor and my sabre, too. I crossed into the sunlight and again was blinded. Yet I could see it. I put out my hand towards it. A magic blade. It could be nothing else but a magic blade! My fingers touched it and a shock ran through my arm!
‘Be just a little wary of it, Sir,’ said Lucifer as I drew back. ‘But you or any part of you shall be the sword’s master from now on. Its properties are at your disposal the moment you lift it.’
My palm went to the worn blue velvet of the hilt. I curved my fingers upon it. I had it. I gripped. It seemed monstrous heavy.
Then I had lifted up the Sword of Paracelsus. The pommel was a ruby globe, but within that globe I saw a bird. A captive eagle, its coppery wings beating, beating at the sky. It circled, perpetually restless. Its beak opened in a great shriek. Its claws were extended, as if for the kill. Its eyes were quite mad. A wonderful eagle, held in thrall by the blade’s power. At last I felt equipped to stand against those who threatened me!
‘The Grail goes its own way and has gone from Hell already. Perhaps only the Grail decides our destinies, von Bek. Pray you, Sir, use that sword for our mutual benefit. It is all I can give you…’
I turned to thank the infernal monarch, but only Lucifer’s voice remained in the hall. ‘Remember, I cannot hold you in any way. No bargain is made by your receiving that blade. I
trust you simply to remember your family crest – the secret one – and what is written upon it…’
‘Do you the Devil’s work!’ I raised my new sword higher, feeling its perfect balance. I knew something of the elation which came when I lay with Libussa. I laughed in delight. All fear was lifted from me at that moment, all anxiety for the future, all morbid terror at my fate.
‘Should you choose to do my work, von Bek, I pray you, for all our sakes – DO IT WELL…’
The sunlight faded from the windows. A huge, cold darkness began to flood through the chamber as Lucifer withdrew into Hell. I stopped to pick up my guttering brand. Shadows fell on rotting granite.
His voice became a distant echo, a whisper, a memory. ‘It is all I can give you… The rest depends entirely upon you…’
Suddenly I was grinning. I seemed to grow until I was larger than the universe itself. I contained the universe as the universe contained me! We were One. I was all mankind!
And I held a magic sword.
Chapter Fourteen
An equaliser of considerable comfort. Fancy and Actuality confused. Apes, an idiot and a fresh corpse. Does a coincidence of men prefigure a coincidence of suns? Further traps and tangles. To Salzkuchengasse in pursuit of a lady!
I RETRACED MY way to the surface wondering if any man had ever so casually entered Hell or so easily left it. I had Montsorbier’s sabre in one hand, the near-spent torch in the other, and in my belt was the scabbarded Paracelsian blade with its writhing red pommel and its constantly agitated eagle.
By now I was almost laughing at myself. Since leaving Paris I had gradually fallen in league with the supernatural, against all my rationalism! Now I was told that the world’s future could depend on me. Even if that were likely, I would have had little relish for the responsibility. Perhaps at some point in those mysterious proceedings, assuming I was given the power, I could hand it over to one who would honestly relish it: my Duchess?
I was in an alley now, amongst the shivering buildings and the bitter air. The sky was almost brilliant in comparison to the warrens I emerged from and I was able to see the great circle of unsteady towers which surrounded me. They formed an horizon, faintly red, shading up into purple and blue, behind and above those monstrous stars. It struck me that if Mirenburg truly lay at the exact centre of the Mittelmarch (or of the Astral Concordance, or both) then the Deeper City was dead centre to Mirenburg, the whole built around a great pit. The whole city, then, protected a hollow, a kind of emptiness – almost an Absence. The notion so disturbed me I discarded it.
There was no way to tell the time. I was near faint with weariness and assumed it was morning. I had relinquished my few remaining ambitions and was ready to return to Prince Miroslav’s to enlist his and the Chevalier St Odhran’s aid. Libussa might have been spirited back by some Russian alchemy, so it was possible I wasted my time seeking her in the Deeper City. Yet returning was not simple, for I could not tell left from right or north from south. All I could do was trudge onwards, trying to gain height and hoping eventually I would find a landmark amongst the dancing tenements.
My eyes were blurred and my senses distorted, so I heard and saw too much that was Fancy, not enough that was actual. I felt I should sleep before I resumed my search. The buildings were like mourners round a coffin, swaying and wailing. I traversed a few more yards before I stopped in my tracks in a little square surrounding an old stone well. The houses there were relatively stable. There was a sense of seclusion about the place. It seemed safe enough. I sat myself down with my back to the well’s mossy granite and attempted to reason out my situation. I was lost…
My reasoning lasted perhaps two seconds before I was fast asleep with my head on my chest, having no notion how much time had passed when I lifted my head again. My shoulders, back and posterior were aching mightily. I had an urgent need to relieve my bladder.
I rose to my feet, stiff as a parson in a brothel, when to my astonishment from all sides there rolled a tide of white fur and I was surrounded by apes, each one the colour of snow but with red eyes and black muzzles: a kind of large baboon. They were capering and gibbering and grinning at me, pulling at my clothing.
‘Gentlemen,’ I begged, ‘spare me a moment alone, I beg you!’ But they could not understand and I was dragged across the square, clinging to my two swords, through an archway and into a courtyard. From there I was hauled down a hall panelled in beaten gold which reflected the firelight while at its centre grew an old oak tree. From this came the fresh scents of a forest. It was where I spoke with the Goat Queen. But the old woman was gone, her rustic bench empty.
On the far side of the pool stood the idiot girl whose song I had listened to as she lay drugged outside. Now she sang in the language of Mirenburg, sang what she had to say in the same pure, crystal voice. ‘She is dead. She is dead. The Goat Queen is dead.’
The white apes fell back against the walls as if in respect. They squatted and watched us.
‘She did not seem sickly when I saw her a few hours since.’ I tried to attract the girl’s attention, but her eyes remained blank.
‘She was not sickly. She was well, Sir, and lively. She was lively. But it was men who killed her, Sir.’ Her face moved a little, to seek me out. Then, very gradually, her eyes began to focus on me.
I was finding it hard to take so much horror and wonderment. I became banal. ‘She was murdered?’
‘Murdered, Sir, by those who pursue you. By the one who led them.’
Sleep and misery thickened my tongue. ‘By Montsorbier?’
‘The pale one, Sir. Is that Montsorbier?’
I shook my head. ‘He’s pale enough, but I think you speak of Klosterheim. Why should he kill your mistress?’
‘Because she helped you where she would not help them.’
‘How, child? How killed?’
‘With teeth, Sir, and with a sword.’ Her eyes were aswim with terror.
I was aghast. ‘They had no reason!’ And Klosterheim led them. He had always been their leader! Could Libussa, too, have conspired with them?
The apes came forward on all fours. They surrounded the idiot child. They lifted her up in their hairy arms and she pointed into the branches of the oak. Something was cradled there. A little, frail corpse. It was the Goat Queen, all bloodied from half a score of wounds, the worst in her throat.
‘She offered threat to no-one!’ I was weeping as I moved towards the tree. ‘Oh, Madam, their crimes are ever against the innocent. Why do they kill so?’
‘They are envious,’ sang the girl. ‘They think all we strive to earn is free and given us by Fate. And your Klosterheim, he hated my queen. He called her Mother of Satan. It had been a million years, he said, but now she would pay for her crime. He thought, Sir, that she’d conceived the Devil! She did not protest. She was eighty-two years, so she told me. Now I have no-one to comfort.’
In my rage and grief I felt little sympathy then for that bereaved child. ‘Do you think she served Lucifer, girl?’
‘We all serve Him now, Sir. Those few of us who are not in conflict with Him.’ She stood beside the bench, touching the wood. The apes looked on. ‘I saw who you were, Sir. I warned her you carried death with you. Yet I did not know you when you held me and I sang. I did not recognise you, Sir, as the shadow I’d foretold. Is it man or woman? she asked me. I cannot see, I said. This time I cannot see. One part of a single creature. Yet there are both sexes mingled in it. I did not recognise you, Sir. And I sent you to her.’
‘Damn you, girl,’ said I. ‘You’re an uncomfortable Oracle. Did you really see all of this?’
Her eyes drifted out of focus and she pointed her head up, facing the little corpse above. ‘I see nothing, Sir, for I’m blind. I am a singer who feels and has language. But the languages are earned. Only the words are crude, Sir. Still, I could not tell your sex, though I now call you ‘Sir’ and you address me as a man would and are garbed as a man would be. Are you a woman, too, Sir?’
At that instant I could not in honesty answer her. Even my physique was in doubt. I made some poor joke, saying she should ask that question of another, the one I sought. I touched my body and recalled it easily enough. I said roughly: ‘I’m in a devilish need of a piss, girl. Wait one moment and I’ll demonstrate.’ And with that it was down with the flap of my breeches and drawers and let loose with great pleasure and force into the pool. ‘I appear to be male, child.’ My sabre tucked under my arm I completed my business. I looked down at the Sword of Paracelsus in my belt. The ruby pulsed.
‘Then the female half must be close by,’ she sang.
At which, without reason, I shuddered.
The apes crept to the pool. They had been watching me. Now half of them began pissing, too. The vault was full of our common stench. The girl’s song became wordless. In the branches of the oak the little white Goat Queen slept, wrapped in the blood she’d once protected. I was unbalanced by contrasts and paradoxes. This symmetry was too complex for my worldly brain. Yet even I could tell that it was indeed true symmetry; not Chaos in disguise. Chaos, which precedes the Final War. Besides, I thought vaguely, how could the Final War be waged when one party had abdicated and the other had turned pacifist?
‘Perhaps the world shall be at her weakest when the Concordance comes,’ continued that unnerving child, ‘when the individual will is stronger than the mass. So reality can be changed. Is that why they all struggle with such desperate violence, Sir? So that each imagination shall not be opposed? Does that make the nonsense into sense again, good Sir? Would that be why all rival dreams must be extinguished, so that one – or those, at least, of one accord – shall dominate?’
‘Girl, I’ve no desire to hear further puzzles,’ I shouted. ‘Ask no more, I beg you! I am grieved your lady’s dead. I’ll avenge her if I can. But your Higher Wisdom’s beyond my understanding and merely confuses me. With respect, child, therefore – confine your occult visions!’
The City in the Autumn Stars Page 30