'Then you will give us power?"
Again Arioch's face changed, back to its primitive, demonic form. And Arioch growled, all the intelligence disappearing from his face. And he drew deep, snorting breaths, and his body began to change colour, to grow in size, to flare with reds and yellows as if a mighty furnace roared within him.
'He gathers his strength,' whispered Jhary-a-Conel, his lips close to Ilian's ear. 'We must strike now. Now, Ilian.'
He leapt, his flame-lance sending out its stream of ruby light. He jumped into the ranks of the great army and four warriors were cut down before any realised that an enemy had come among them. Now others of Ilian's warriors dropped from the trees, following Jhary's example. Katinka van Bak, Yisselda of Brass, Lyfeth of Ghant, Mysenal of Hinn - all jumped into the fray, jumped to certain death. And Ilian wondered why she hung back.
She saw Ymryl yell urgently at Arioch, saw Arioch reach out to touch Ymryl. And Ymryl's body glowed, seeming to burn with the same fire which filled Arioch.
And Ymryl screamed, drawing his sword, and rushing upon Ilian's handful of warriors.
That was when Ilian jumped, placing herself between her folk and Ymryl.
Ymryl was possessed. His form radiated a monstrous energy as if Arioch himself possessed that mortal body. Ymryl's eyes, even, were the bestial eyes of Arioch. He snarled. He came at Ilian with his great sword hissing through the air. 'Ah, now, Ilian. This time you shall die. This time!'
And Ilian tried to block the blow, but so strong had Ymryl become that her sword was driven back against her body. She stumbled backward, again barely able to ward off Ymryl's next swipe at her. He fought with reasonless ferocity and she knew that he must kill her.
And behind Ymryl, Arioch had grown to huge proportions. His body continued to writhe, growing larger and larger, but containing less and less substance. The face altered constantly now, from second to second, and she heard a faint voice calling:
'The balance! The balance! It sways! It bends! It melts! It is the doom of the gods! Oh, these puny creatures - these men,..’
And then Arioch was gone and only Ymryl was left, but an Ymryl filled with Arioch's terrible power.
Ilian continued to retreat before the rain of blows. Her arms were aching. Her legs and her back were aching. She was afraid. She did not want Ymryl to kill her.
Somewhere she heard another sound. Was it a yell of triumph? Did it mean that all her comrades were dead now, that Ymryl's soldiers had destroyed every one of them?
Was she the last of Garathorm?
She fell back as, with a terrific blow, Ymryl knocked the sword from her hand. Another blow split her buckler. Ymryl drew back his arm to deliver the death stroke.
4
The Soul Gem
Ilian tried to stare Ymryl in his eyes as she died, those eyes which were no longer his own, but Arioch's.
But then the light in them began to fade and Ymryl looked about him in wonder. She heard him say:
'It is over, then? We go home?'
He seemed to be looking at scenery that was not the scenery of Garathorm. And he was smiling.
Ilian reached out and her hand grasped the hilt of her sword. With all her strength she thrust out at Ymryl and she saw his blood spurt, his face become astonished, as gradually he faded into nothingness, as Arioch had faded before him.
Dazed, Ilian staggered upright, not knowing if she had killed Ymryl. Now she would never know.
Katinka van Bak lay nearby. She had a great, red wound in her body. Her face was white as if all her blood had gone. She was panting. As Ilian approached her, Katinka said:
'I heard the story of Hawkmoon's sword - the Sword of the Dawn it was called. It could summon warriors from another plane, another time. Could some other sword have summoned Ymryl... ?' She hardly knew what she was saying.
Jhary-a-Conel, supported by Yisselda of Brass, came limping out of the battle-dust. His leg was cut, but not deeply.
'So you saved us, after all, Ilian,' he said. 'As the Eternal Champion should!' He grinned. 'But does not, I'll admit, always do...'
'I saved you? No. I cannot explain this. Ymryl vanished!'
'You slew Kalan. It was Kalan who had created the circumstances which allowed Ymryl and the rest to come to Garathorm. With Kalan's death the rift in the multiverse begins to mend. In healing itself, it replaces Ymryl and all who served Ymryl back in their respective eras. I'm sure that's what happened. These are strange times, Ilian of Garathorm. Almost as strange for me as they are for you. I'm used to gods exerting their will -but Arioch - he is wretched now. Do the gods die in all planes, I wonder?'
'There have never been gods on Garathorm,' said Ilian. She bent to attend Katinka van Bak's wound, hoping that it was not as serious as it looked. But it was worse than it looked. Katinka van Bak was dying.
'They have all gone, then?' said Yisselda, hardly realising, still, that their friend was so badly wounded.
'All - including corpses,' said Jhary. He was fumbling in the pouch at his belt. 'This will help her,' he said. 'A potion to kill pain.'
Ilian put the vial to Katinka van Bak's lips, but the warrior woman shook her head. 'No,' she said, 'it will make me sleep. I want to remain awake for what little life I have left. And I must go home.'
'Home? To Virinthorm?' said Ilian softly.
'No. To my own home. Back through the Bulgar Mountains.' Katinka sought with her eyes for Jhary-a-Conel. 'Will you take me there, Jhary?'
'We must have a litter,' he said. He called to Lyfeth, who had come up. 'Can some of your folk make a litter?'
Ilian said absently. 'You are all still alive? But how? I thought you went to your deaths ...?'
'The sea-folk!' said Lyfeth as she went away to help make the litter. 'Did you not see them?'
'The sea-folk? My attention was on that demon ...'
'Just as Jhary leapt down into their camp, we saw their banners. That was why we chose to attack when we did. Look!'
Moving towards the trees to cut branches, Lyfeth pointed.
And Ilian smiled with pleasure as she saw the warriors there, each armed with a great harpoon-gun, each mounted on huge seal-like creatures. On only a few occasions had she seen the sea-folk, but she knew that they were proud and that they were strong, hunting the whales of the sea upon their amphibious beasts.
While Yisselda dressed Katinka van Bak's wounds, Ilian went to thank King Treshon, their leader.
He dismounted and bowed graciously. 'My lady,' he said. 'My queen.' Though an old man, he was still very fit and muscles rippled on his bronzed body. He wore a sleeveless mail shirt and a leather kilt, just as all his warriors did. 'Now we can make Garathorm live again.'
'Did you know of our battle?'
'No. We had spies watching Arnald of Grovent - he who finally became leader of those who took our towns. When he set off to march against Ymryl, we decided that it was the best time to strike - while they were divided and concentrating on attack from other quarters -'
'Just as we did!' Ilian said. 'It is happy for both of us that we decided upon the same strategy.'
'We were well-advised,' said King Treshon. '
'Advised? By whom?'
'By yonder youth ..." King Treshon indicated Jhary-a-Conel who was sitting next to Katinka van Bak and conversing with her in a low voice. 'He visited us a month or so since and outlined the plan we followed.'
Ilian smiled. 'He knows much, that youth.'
'Aye, my lady.'
Ilian reached into her belt purse and felt the hard edges of the black jewel. She was in a reflective mood as she trudged back to where Jhary sat, having taken her leave of King Treshon for the moment.
'You told me to keep the jewel safe,' she said. She took it from her purse, holding it up. 'Here it is.'
'I am glad it is still here,' said Jhary. 'I feared it would be whisked back to wherever Kalan's corpse now lies!'
'You planned much of what has happened here, Jhary-a-Conel, did you n
ot?'
'Plan it? No. I serve, that is all. I do what must be done." Jhary was pale. She noticed that he was trembling.
"What's ill? Did you sustain a worse wound than we thought?'
'No. But those forces which pulled Arioch and Ymryl from your world also demand that I leave, it seems. We must make haste to the cave.'
'The cave?'
'Where we first met.' Jhary got up and ran towards his yellow horse. 'Mount whatever there is to ride. Have two of your warriors bear Katinka's litter. Bring Yisselda of Brass with you. Quickly, to the cave!' And he was already riding.
Ilian saw that the litter was almost ready. She told Yisselda what Jhary had said and they went to find mounts.
'But why am I still in this world?' Yisselda said, frowning. 'Should not I have returned to the world where Kalan held me prisoner?'
'You feel nothing - nothing pulling you from here?' Ilian said.
'Nothing.'
Impulsively Ilian reached forward and kissed Yisselda lightly on the cheek. 'Farewell,' she said.
Yisselda was surprised. 'You do not come with us to the cave?'
'I come with you. But I wished to say goodbye. I cannot explain why.'
Ilian felt a mood of peace begin to descend on her. Again she touched the black jewel in her pouch. She smiled.
Jhary was standing in the cave-mouth when they arrived. He looked even weaker than before. He held his black and white cat tightly to his chest.
'Ah,' he said. 'I thought I would not be here. Good.'
Lyfeth of Ghant and Mysenal of Hinn had insisted on carrying Katinka van Bak's litter themselves. They made to carry it into the cave, but Jhary stopped them. 'I am sorry,' he said. 'You must wait here. If Ilian does not return, you must elect a new ruler in her place.'
'A new ruler? What do you intend to do with her?' Mysenal leapt forward, hand on his sword. 'What harm can befall her in that cave?'
'No harm. But Kalan's jewel still contains her soul...' Jhary was sweating. He gasped and shook his head. 'I cannot explain now. Be assured I will protect your queen...'
And he followed Yisselda and Ilian, who were now carrying Katinka van Bak's litter, into the cave.
Ilian was astonished at how deep the cave was. It seemed to go on and on into the mountainside. And it became colder as they went deeper. Yet she said nothing, trusting Jhary.
She turned only once, when she heard Mysenal's excited voice in the distance, shouting: 'We blame you for nothing, now, Ilian! You are absolved ...'
And she wondered at Mysenal's tone and why he should feel such urgency in expressing that sentiment. Not that it meant a great deal to her. She knew her guilt, whatever others said.
And then Katinka van Bak said weakly from her litter. 'Is this not the spot, Jhary-a-Conel?'
Jhary nodded. Since the light had faded, he had carried an odd globe in his hand - a globe which gleamed with light. He set this down upon the floor of the cavern and then Ilian gasped at what she saw. It was the corpse of a tall and handsome man, dressed all in furs. There was no wound on his body, nothing to indicate how he had died. And his face reminded her of someone's. She closed her eyes. 'Hawkmoon ...' she murmured. 'My name...'
Yisselda was sobbing as she knelt down beside the corpse.
'Dorian! My love! My love!' She turned to look up at Jhary-a-Conel. 'Why did you not warn me of this?'
Jhary ignored her and turned instead to Ilian who was leaning dazedly against the wall of the cave. 'Give me the jewel," he said. 'The black jewel, Ilian. Give it to me.'
And when Ilian felt for the gem in her purse she found something that was warm, that vibrated.
'It is alive!' she said. 'Alive!'
'Aye.' He spoke urgently in a low, thin voice. 'Hurry. Kneel beside him ...'
'The corpse?' Ilian drew back distastefully.
'Do as I say!' Jhary weakly dragged Yisselda back from Hawkmoon's body and made Ilian kneel. She did so reluctantly. 'Now, place the jewel upon his forehead - place it where you see the scar.'
Trembling, she did as he ordered.
'Place your own forehead against the gem.'
She bent and her forehead touched the pulsing jewel and suddenly she was falling into the jewel and through the jewel, and as she fell, someone else fell towards her - as if she fell towards a mirror image of herself. She cried out...
She heard Jhary's weak 'Farewell!' and she tried to answer, but she could not. On and on she fell, through corridors of sensations, of memories, of guilt and of redemption ...
And she was Asquiol and she was Arflane and she was Alaric. She was John Daker, Erekose and Urlik. She was Corum and Elric and she was Hawkmoon ...
'Hawkmoon!' she cried the name with her own lips and it was a battle-cry. She fought Baron Meliadus and Asrovaak Mikosevaar at the Battle of the Kamarg. She fought Meliadus again at Londra and Yisselda was beside her. And she and Yisselda looked upon the battlefield when it was all over and they saw that of their comrades only they survived ...
'Yisselda!'
'I am here, Dorian. I am here!'
He opened his eyes and he said: 'So Katinka van Bak did not betray me! But what a devious ruse to bring me to you. Why should she concoct so complicated a scheme?'
Katinka whispered from her litter. 'Perhaps you will find out one day, but not from me, for I save my breath. I need you two to take me out of these mountains, to Ukrainia where I wish to die.'
Hawkmoon got up. He was horribly stiff, as if he had lain in the same spot for months. He saw the blood on the bandages. 'You are wounded! I did not strike out. At least, I cannot recall ..." He put his hand to his forehead. There was something warm there, like blood, but when he drew his fingers away there was only a faint, dark radiance which flickered for a moment before it vanished. 'Then how - Jhary? Surely not...'
Katinka van Bak smiled. 'No. Yisselda will tell you how I got this.'
Another woman said in a soft and vibrant voice from behind Hawkmoon. 'She sustained her wound helping to save a country that was not her own.'
'Not for the first time has she been wounded thus,' said Hawkmoon turning. He stared at a face of extraordinary beauty and yet it was a face that had a sadness in it. A sadness that he felt he might define if he thought for a moment. 'We have met before?'
'You have met before,' said Katinka, 'but now you must part swiftly, for there will be other disruptions if you occupy the same plane for much longer. Believe my warning, Ilian of Garathorm. Go back now. Go back to Mysenal and Lyfeth. They will help you restore your country."
'But...' Ilian hesitated. 'I would speak longer with Yisselda and this Hawkmoon.'
'You have not the right. You are two aspects of the same thing. Only on certain occasions can you meet. Jhary told me that. Go back. Hurry!'
Reluctantly the beautiful girl turned, her golden hair swinging, her chain-mail clinking. She began to walk into the darkness and soon she had vanished from sight.
'Where does the tunnel lead, Katinka van Bak,' Hawkmoon asked, 'to Ukrainia?'
'Not to Ukrainia. And soon it will lead to nowhere at all. I hope she fares well, that maid. She has much to do. And I have a feeling that she will meet Ymryl again.'
'Ymryl?'
Katinka van Bak sighed. 'I told you I would not waste my breath. I need it to keep me alive until we reach Ukrainia. Let us hope the sleigh still waits for us below.'
And Hawkmoon shrugged. He turned to look tenderly upon Yisselda. ‘I knew you lived,' he said. 'They called me mad. But I knew you lived.'
They embraced. 'Oh, Dorian, such adventures I have had,' said Yisselda.
'Tell him about them later,' said the dying Katinka van Bak pettishly from her litter. 'Now pick up this stretcher and get me to that sleigh!'
As she stooped to take one end of the litter, Yisselda said: 'And how do the children fare, Dorian?"
And she wondered why Hawkmoon continued the rest of the journey through the tunnel in silence.
This Ends<
br />
The Second Of The
Chronicles Of Castle Brass
The Champion of Garathorm Page 12