by Martin Ash
'Ascaria!' The name was not new to Leth.
'But of course, you know of her, don't you,' said Urch-Malmain with a sly narrowing of the eyes.
'I have heard her mentioned.'
'Does she not hold captive your beloved children?'
'So I was told. Though in this world I am unsure what to believe.'
'Still and all, it is a fortuitous coincidence.'
Leth scowled. 'How so?'
'Why, you are on your way to find Ascaria and slay her with your magic blade, and lo and behold, you pass through here and learn that we too wish her slain.'
'What is this?' cried the entity, Aztin. 'A magic blade?'
'The Swordbearer is a mighty warrior who bears a fabulous pink sword,' said Urch-Malmain with lofty sarcasm. 'It is the only known instrument capable of taking the Great Sow's life, and he alone can wield it.'
'That is indeed excellent news,' Aztin said, and in the fume the others set up an approving chorus:
'He has come to release us!'
'Oh what marvels! We will be free again!'
'At last, we can perform our function as we always intended to do. . .'
'. . . and take leave of this drab and miserable world!'
'And good riddance!'
'Fortune and the good will of the Unity of All Dimensions is with us after all!'
Leth was less enthusiastic. He gazed mordantly into the fume. Lakewander and Master Protector had told him that Ascaria, the Kancanitrix of the Dark Flame, guarded a portal which would take him back to his world of Enchantment's Reach, and now here was Urch-Malmain and his living artefact claiming to have created another. Did Urch-Malmain know of Ascaria's portal? Did it truly exist? Leth was in two minds as to whether to speak of it now. He resolved to stay silent for the present, but something else that had just been said bothered him. He asked, 'What of those who stepped through your portal and 'travelled not quite as they should'? What became of them?'
'We do not know,' said one voice.
'Perhaps they arrived as they should, perhaps they did not,' said another.
The remaining entities added their thoughts:
'Perhaps they were transported to the back of a far star in the constellation of Hesque.'
'Or into the bowels of a blind Legfish swimming deep in the sea of Dismality.'
'Perhaps they hover still in uncharted regions of Illusiveness, or were reduced to their constituent atoms and dispersed throughout all the planes of the cosmos.'
'Perhaps--'
'Enough!' shouted Urch-Malmain, almost beside himself. 'Their fate is unimportant. They were subjects to test the function of the machine, nothing more.'
'But who were they?' demanded Leth.
'I would not know who they were.' Urch-Malmain glanced towards the billowing blue-green mist. By his look and posture Leth sensed him to be uneasy. Was he afraid that the entities might reveal something he wished to keep quiet?
Leth turned to the mist within the artefact. 'Aztin, perhaps you or your companions will enlighten me?'
'Bah! You are a meddlesome fellow! Their identities are of no relevance,' Urch-Malmain expostulated.
'Nonetheless. . . .'
'Time has passed. I have forgotten.'
Leth was unconvinced. 'Then let me ask you something else. If you do not know what happened to them, what evidence do you have that they did not pass through the portal and arrive safely on the other side as intended?'
Urch-Malmain drew back his lips and hissed through his teeth. 'One: they sent back no signs. And two: the reciprocity was awry.'
'The reciprocity? What is that?'
'The Law of Reciprocity. There must be a mutual transfer between domains. If I send something from this world to our own, something of similar context must be drawn here. It is a universal balance.'
'And it did not occur?'
'It occurred, but not as it should. On the first attempt it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. The old man I sent through appeared to burst into flame as he passed; in his place there materialised a leather-skinned warrior who promptly expired. Later, after various adjustments had been made, I tried again. The transfer appeared to go well, though I cannot say where the subject ended up. On that occasion I received a dazed young tinker in exchange. At another time I sent the tinker back; in his place came a savage creature, a hybrid of human barbarian warrior and some kind of blue-skinned reptilian-brute. So ferocious was it that, again, I jettisoned it immediately, before it could leap forth and tear the life from me. This time my darling Hellia came through.'
'And you did not think to ask her where she had come from?' asked Leth, incredulously.
'Oh I did, but the poor sweet was hysterical and could barely grasp what had happened to her. She was of our world, though. That much was plain.'
'Then the portal had operated as it should.'
'Perhaps, but I could not be certain. I had no proof, and for reasons which require no explanation I am not prepared to make my own attempt to return while there remains even a scintilla of doubt as to the outcome.'
'What is this proof, these signs that you refer to?' asked Leth.
Urch-Malmain smiled thinly, a nerve at the corner of his mouth twitching rapidly. 'There is no reason why I should reveal that to you.' He paused, turning again to the milling vapour, then went on: 'Most recently I sent a young man through. The entities reported that, as far as they could tell, his passage had been without untoward incident. And someone who might be of interest to you came here in his place. The omens were good, then. But the entities considered it a matter of chance and could not guarantee such success again, not as long as Ascaria continues to disrupt the harmonies of the passage.'
'Someone of interest to me?' queried Leth.
'I think so.' He turned away. 'We will discuss that at another time.'
ii
An hour had passed. Leth stood alone at a window of the Tower of Glancing Memory, his brain seething with questions. In the far distance misty blue hills rose, meeting the sky at a point beyond his perception. Away to his left was the shimmering enigma of the Shore of Nothing, its strange sands a haze of colour in the Orblight. The gleaming red cliffs curved away into the distance from which he had come; before them the End of the World, the void that he could not contain or bear to look upon. And beneath him, falling away dizzyingly from the foot of the tower, was the Death Abyss, its far-off depths concealed beneath a blanket of dense, broiling grey mist.
There dwelt Ascaria, Urch-Malmain had just told him. There lay his children, and his goal. High above, directly over the Abyss, as if in corroboration of Urch-Malmain's sentiment, was the World's Agony. Closer now; it no longer shone with a piercing golden light; its lucence was the colour of blood. And the sky had darkened, not with the approach of night but more as though reflecting the sombre, unknown character of the great Abyss over which it hung.
'Have you made your decision, Swordbearer?' came Urch-Malmain's voice from behind him.
Leth felt his heart in his throat. Without turning around he said, in a solemn voice, 'I think the decision has been made without me. What choice do I have? I will not rest until I have found my children.'
'A noble sentiment. But in itself it is not enough. You must slay the Great Sow and return here if you intend to find your way back to your home.'
Now Leth turned. And you will be gone, the portal closed, its entities dispersed. Vanished, as if it had never been.
'It is a dangerous way,' said Urch-Malmain. He stood at the far end of the chamber. 'But I will provide help. You will not travel alone.' He gestured to where four of the tall, pale, black-armoured warriors stood facing him with their backs to the wall. Their expressions were blank, though fierce. 'They are Abyss fighters. They know the way. They were once Ascaria's.'
'How is this?' asked Leth.
'From time to time she launches forays against me. That is, she did. She was quick to curtail her actions when she saw that I was. . .' Urch-Malmain purs
ed his lips and wriggled his fingers, seeking appropriate words, '. . . changing her troopers' minds.'
'Is it so simple?'
'To put someone into reverie? It's like hypnotizing chickens. Somewhat against my preferences, though, for it obliges me to place my person in very close proximity to the subject in order to arrest his or her gaze with my own. Such intimacy is an affront to my nature.' He gave a shudder. 'The process of relieving a person of his or her entire memory track and replacing it with another takes somewhat longer, of course, but I am relieved of the necessity of touching them or gazing into their horrible eyes. 'Now,' he jerked a finger at the warriors, who filed quickly from the chamber, 'you will have others with you besides these grim visaged fighters.' He nodded towards the far end of the chamber.
In the shadows beneath an overhead gallery a man lounged upon the edge of a table. Leth had not been aware of him before. He swung one leg carelessly back and forth; the other was near straight, the foot resting upon the floor, supporting much of his weight. With one hand he tossed a small white object into the air and caught it as it fell, tossed it and caught it again. He looked across at Leth, nodded and grinned nonchalantly. 'Good day, valiant hero.'
With a shock Leth recognized Count Harg, the brigand leader. He turned upon Urch-Malmain in outrage. 'I will not have this man accompany me. He is a villain of the lowest order.'
'As am I,' replied Urch-Malmain, who had moved to the foot of the stairway. 'Still, he will be useful to you, and to me also. Hence he and his company will travel with you. They are charged with your protection.' His voice had hardened. 'The matter is not being offered for debate.'
Count Harg languidly tossed the little object high and let it drop into his open palm once more. 'Regrettably my company is greatly depleted, due to a rather unfortunate incident at the other end of the Shore. We are but three in number now.'
Leth turned to him and growled, 'How did you come here?'
'Why, the same way you did, I would imagine.'
'You walked the Shore of Nothing?'
'That is so.'
'And were not driven mad?'
Harg studied the little article in his hand. 'I am perhaps not the best judge of that. But as far as I am aware I am sane. Unprincipled, yes. Irredeemably miscreant, well perhaps. Sure of nothing?,’ he grinned sardonically. ‘Hmm, I’m not sure about that. But of unsound mind? I do not think so.'
Of unsound mind! The words threw Leth back to his encounter with Fectur in the Hall of Wise Counsel, when the Master of Security for Enchantment's Reach had so deftly and deviously usurped his office. It had been. . . when? Incredibly, only days ago, unless more time had passed than he was aware of.
Was it just coincidence that had bidden Harg to use these words? Had he placed any subtle inflection on them, did his expression betray any double meaning? Leth pushed the words from his mind.
'Why have you come?'
Count Harg made a weary gesture, and smiled sardonically. 'Oh, everyone is so glum back there. Have you not noticed? There is no relief. I tire of it.'
'If you came this way, did you encounter my former companion, Lakewander?'
'I did,' said Harg, brightening. 'She was making her way home.'
Leth bristled. 'Was she harmed?'
'By me? No. To be honest, I was far more interested in you and your marvellous pink sword than I was in her. And as it happened, we met near the stone bridge. She sought and gained the aegis of that simple-minded hulk who guards the way.'
'And the Bridgekeeper let you pass?'
Count Harg eased himself off the table and crossed the room. He paused before a side-table upon which rested a small vase of translucent white gypsum, which held a single, vibrantly pink rose. Harg lifted the rose to his nostrils and enjoyed its perfume for a moment, then replied, 'Mmmm, yes, he did. I hailed him in the proper manner this time, so he had little option. And besides, he was busy attending to my former companions.' Harg made a grimace of distaste. 'He is a creature of strange appetites, even to someone of my hardened sensibilities.'
Urch-Malmain had ascended to the second step of the stairway. He had taken a pale blue foulard from within his robe and was applying it to his mouth and nose as if to ward off a foul odour. Leth saw that his brow gleamed with perspiration. 'So, Swordbearer, can I take it that you are ready to depart?'
Leth felt no readiness, either to travel with Harg or do Urch-Malmain's bidding. Yet somewhere his children were hidden, awaiting him, and ahead lay a possibility of escape, of a return to Enchantment's Reach.
So he nodded, his countenance dour.
'Excellent!' Urch-Malmain edged away up the stairs, delivering little staccato coughs into his foulard. 'I shall apprise you later of all that I know of the journey that lies ahead of you. For now, I must remove myself from your presence, for you offend me. Amuse yourselves!'
iii
It was a bitter day, a day chill with foreboding, as Leth rode out from the Tower of Glancing Memory. He was accompanied by Count Harg, his two surviving thugs and the four lean, putty-skinned Abyss warriors who had once been soldiers of Ascaria.
Urch-Malmain had informed him of the four warriors’ names. They were: Rasgul, Huuri, Dembarl and Fhurn. So similar in appearance were they that Leth could barely tell them apart, with the exception of Rasgul, their captain, who had irises of deep burnt orange pigment, in contrast to the dull umber of the other three. He was also a little more massive than they and had a distinguishing blemish or birthmark like a faint stain or shadow upon the left side of his jaw.
None of them were prone to conversation in any form bar the exchanging of orders and necessary responses, which suited Leth. Count Harg, on the other hand, seemed keen to establish a feeling of bonhomie between Leth and himself. Leth had neither desire nor stomach for such a rapport, and gave him no encouragement. Harg was undeterred and spoke on as the mood took him, his manner smooth and light-hearted, as though they were setting out on an adventure no more perilous than a deer-hunt.
Leth was bemused by him. Harg was plainly a man of refined background, almost likeable, yet by demonstration and his own admission, devoid of conscience, decency or feeling for others.
Harg's two men were the gangling, pockmarked youth, called Juson, who had helped to tie Leth at the stone bridge; and a smaller weasel of a man, spare and quick of build, with cadaverous features and darting black eyes, whose name was Trin.
They were heavily-armed, all of them. Leth wore his sapphire armour; the Orbsword was buckled at his belt, his dagger also, and he had been provided with a bow and arrows by Urch-Malmain. Behind his saddle was the magnificent horned and visored sapphire-blue helm. This had in fact been stolen by Harg at the bridge, but he had borne it with him along the Shore of Nothing and presented it to Leth as they prepared to set out from the Tower of Glancing Memory, commenting archly that he felt it only proper that a hero be fully-accoutred when setting forth upon a quest.
Count Harg himself carried a longsword and numerous knives. A repeating crossbow, capable of firing several lightweight bolts in quick succession, was attached to his saddle, as were quarrels. He also carried a small silvery instrument which fitted into the palm of his hand. Leth had caught but a glimpse of this device. He was ignorant as to its precise function but assumed it to be a weapon of some kind.
Juson and Trin each carried a longsword and crossbow, with a battle-axe slung from their saddles. The four Abyss warriors had their scimitars, knives, bows and short spears.
Leth was far from easy in his mind, riding with men in whom he could place no trust. Had he searched the furthest corners of his kingdom he could hardly have found himself a more poisonous band of travelling-companions. Each one of them he knew to be either a cold-hearted villain or a tutored killer. Any or all of them might slide a blade between his ribs the moment his aim was achieved; he was not closed to the likelihood of their having received orders to this effect already. And apart from his brief to slay Ascaria he knew so little of the full natu
re of the mission he was engaged upon.
Prior to their departure Urch-Malmain had withdrawn to his workroom with the four Abyss warriors. Hours later he had emerged to announce that the four were now subservient to Leth's command. 'They will follow your orders, Swordbearer, but only insofar as they concur with my own. Bear that in mind. These pale fellows will do all in their power to assist you in entering the Great Sow’s stronghold. They will deliver you to her if they can, so that you may end her vile life. But they will not then lend you a hand to return here and slay me, heh-heh-heh! No, be assured, their loyalty is never in question.'
A chill breeze scoured Leth's cheek. It seemed to come up from the Death Abyss, which lay just yards away to his left. Harg had said they must travel several leagues from the Tower of Glancing Memory, more or less following the lip of the great Abyss, before they came to a way that would let them descend into the chasm.
The landscape was harsh, a rutted plain of weak grey soil and rock. Here and there low hillocks relieved the overall flatness. A few stunted trees struggled for growth, small yellow flowers grew at the wayside, otherwise thistles and occasional tussocks of tall, spare grass were all that found purchase in the feeble earth. Misty hills and mountain tiers reared in the distance.