Domigny reddened. "I've worked my whole life for the good of my people, Dulain-and I'll keep doing it!"
Dirk stared at him.
Domigny turned his head from side to side. "No, Dirk Dulain. Do as you will; but for myself, I did not do what I did for gratitude or adulation-or for power! I did it because I believed it right-and whatever the consequences of that action, I accept them!" He turned to Lapin and called out, "I will stay here among you, Lapin, and gladly! The wealth and position you offer I accept, and will not seek voice in your affairs."
"What will you do, then, among us?" she demanded.
"What you will. If you want schools, industry, commerce, I will build them for you-or whatever else the people want done. I will work for the good of the churls of this planet!"
A huge cheer exploded all about him, filling the courtyard. Dazed, the officers looked at one another; then they looked at their captain and began to grin.
Dirk turned away, sickened. He looked up at Lapin and Hugh, both smiling, satisfied; then his eyes dropped down to Madelon. She looked up, meeting his gaze with a long, pleading look. He turned his face away and looked at the Captain again. Then, as the cheers began to fade, he turned on his heel and stalked toward the gate.
The courtyard fell silent about him. Then he heard the quick patter of heels. He looked back as Madelon caught his sleeve, looking up at him breathlessly. "You will not go now! Stay here among us!"
Dirk looked down at her, his mouth twisting. "Why? Why should I?"
She looked up at him, her face grave. "Do I mean nothing to you?"
He looked into her eyes for a long, wordless moment. Then he leaned his weight on one hip, cocking his head to the side. "How is this? A moment ago, I saw your face filled with the tragedy of Gar's leaving."
"True," she said gravely, "but when he said that the spirit of Decade had left him, I began to remember what had happened, and to wonder why it had come about as it did-and it was you, all of it. It was you who paved the way for the churls in the arena to call him leader, you who prepared him to receive Decade and guided the staff to his hand, you who guided him when his plans seemed to fall apart, you who guided his arm and called down the tall towers; and I think it is you, Dirk Dulain-you more than any other-who has brought us our freedom, as surely as though the Wizard's spirit moved in you!"
"It is not true," Dirk denied, "none of it. I was moved about like a chess piece on a board. How can you see it that way? Is it because, now that the giant has left, you must find reasons for turning to another?"
Madelon winced but retorted, "I say what I see. Like any man, you are too blind to see yourself truly!"
Dirk nodded, heavy with irony. "So now you want me."
"Yes, I want you!" she hissed fiercely. "Can you blame me?"
"Yes," he answered, "for if Decade came alive again, you would turn from me in an instant." He saw the sick, stricken acknowledgment of what he had said in her eyes and was instantly filled with remorse. He touched her face gently, spoke softly. "Forgive me-I've spoken too harshly. But you must see that I cannot accept being second choice."
He held her eyes a moment longer, then turned and walked away.
The ranks of the churls parted for him, as they had for Gar, and the courtyard was silent as he marched down that long avenue, looking neither to the right nor the left. Memory hemmed him in on both sides, likeness of kind clung to him, but he strode through it as though it was a room full of cobwebs. Every face turned to him in silent respect; every eye followed him as he passed under the portcullis and was gone from their sight.
He strode across the drawbridge and out onto the barren hillside.
There he stopped and took a slow, deep breath. He let his shoulders slump and bowed his head, feeling the adrenaline ebb from his system.
There, far below him, lay the town, its lights warm and few amidst the darkness.
He took a deep, shuddering breath, composing himself. There was no time to let go now; there was a man he had to catch, and Dirk had a strangely certain idea of where that man would be. He turned away to find a horse.
He stepped under the stone archway and into the great cavern, his footsteps totally silent. It was the dark, chill hour before dawn; a few shafts of crystalline moonlight streaked down from the crevices high in the walls, bathing the great skeleton in frozen light.
A shadow bent over it-a tall, black-cloaked figure, gazing down at the silvered, almost-living skeleton. He stood that way a long time, unmoving, meditating; and Dirk knew enough not to make the slightest sound.
Then at last, the tall, black figure moved. Slowly, he drew two oaken sticks from beneath his cloak and laid them, gently, one on each side of the great skeleton. Then he stood back, head bowed; and Dirk saw the glint of light and shadow on the eagle face, silvered on the brow and nose, hollowed at the eyes and cheeks.
Gar sighed, lifting his head and squaring his shoulders, turned toward the archway-and saw Dirk.
Dirk braced himself.
Gar gazed at him, his face grave.
Then he stepped forward, grasping Dirk's shoulder, and murmured, "Let us go out from this place; for I knew this man, and he is dead."
Dirk turned with him; together, they passed under the archway and into the spiral.
As they came out into the lower cave, Dirk murmured, "That was not an easy thing to do."
Gar nodded. "His staff is a thing of awesome strength, Dulain-it would magnify every power I have -a hundredfold. With it, I would be the mightiest psi in the galaxy."
"Then why did you put it down?"
"Because it is not mine," Gar said without hesitation. "It is DeCade's; and while he is dead, it belongs to his people." He lifted his head, gazing thoughtfully at the pale dawnlight in the cave mouth ahead. "Then, too, I think it would be an addictive thing. Holding power like that, I would use it and use it again till I could not bear not to use it. If it cried for blood, it would have it."
They came out at the base of the hill, and Gar threw his shoulders back with a sigh, looking up at the moon, drifting palely in the sky of false dawn.
Dirk watched him, brooding. "Is that why you broke the staff?"
"No, not quite." Gar frowned. "But like it. DeCade was a great man, but he was like his staff-he could never stop fighting. Even as it is, I have all his memories, the print of his personality--and I think I'll always have to be on my guard for the rest of my days, to be sure that personality doesn't overwhelm me. But with his staff whole, I wouldn't've had a chance-it pumped power into him; it made him a superman." He turned his head slowly, looking down at Dirk. "It was a great temptation to leave his staff whole, Dirk Dulain-- but it would have destroyed me."
Suddenly, he squeezed his eyes shut, pressing his middle finger and thumb against his temples. "And, oh, I hope to tell you, may I never have to live through something like that again! It washorrible, at first; another man's mind inside my own, thought-tendrils reaching out, grappling. We fought on a figurative plain, beneath a symbolic sky, in the country of the mind; and we came close to killing each other. But at last we made peace and became friends of a sort; though there was always the tension, always the wariness-for we both wanted life, in the body. It was a constant threat-another fight for survival-there, in the midst of my own mind, my own flesh and body." "But it didn't come," Dirk murmured.
Gar shook his head. "No. We were allies; we worked together for a dream we both burned for. And now-he is gone, no vital power, no soul left, only a set of memories. He died of his own accord, almost; when he'd had his revenge, the power drained out, and he went back where he'd come from-but he couldn't have lain easy if that staff had remained whole. Of course I laid him to rest-no man wishes to be a ghost."
"No," Dirk said slowly, "including me."
"Ah." Gar nodded; that seemed to explain a lot to him.
He lifted an arm, pointing to the top of the hill. "Come, let us climb. I cannot think of a better place to survey this world, than the top of DeCa
de's tomb."
They turned their faces up and began to climb. Gar turned to Dirk, his eyes probing keenly. "She had that deep a hold on you, then?"
"Yes," Dirk said sourly, "and you had that deep a hold on her."
"I? Or DeCade?"
Dirk shrugged. "Either. It didn't really seem to matter. Any way you looked at it, I came in last." Gar strode upward in silence. Then he said, "That's a pretty weak reason for leaving a planet." Dirk shrugged irritably. "Her, or the rest of them-it came out the same. Half-liking is a pretty poor sequel to loyalty."
Gar shook his head. "That still rings hollow."
Dirk stopped, scowling. "What are you getting at? The Wizard? The unseen hand that's moved me, every step?"
"No, of course not." But Gar was suddenly a little too casual about it.
Dirk frowned, puzzled; then he smiled, amused. "Oh, don't worry, I figured that one out long ago. You were the source of the rumors, weren't you? You started the discontent running through the land -the feeling that it was about to happen-and the word of the Wizard being seen, here and there."
Gar nodded. "Just the usual whispering campaign-and a little projective telepathy, of course."
Dirk raised his eyebrows. "Oh, you list that among your talents, too?"
"I am nothing if not versatile."
"Yes, very." Dirk frowned. "When Lord Core's men found Madelon and me dead, and took you away-how'd you manage that, faking our deaths? I don't know of any psi power than can swing that one."
Gar flashed him a grin and turned away. Dirk waited for the answer.
He was still waiting when they came to the hilltop.
Gar planted his feet firmly and heaved a sigh, looking out over the countryside, slumbering in the false dawn. "Peaceful, isn't it?"
"Yes," Dirk agreed. "Now."
"And yourself?" Gar raised an eyebrow.
Dirk looked back at him, his face carefully neutral. Then he nodded. "Not bad, now that you mention it. Surprisingly."
Gar shrugged. "You've got it mostly threshed out now. She doesn't really mean that much, does she?" "No," Dirk said after a few minutes, "she doesn't. The people do-but not right now. Not yet."
Gar nodded. "They're done with their need for you-and you don't need them yet. Not really." "No," Dirk said slowly. "I'm young. I don't need it. There'll be time for a home."
"Oh?" Gar cocked an eyebrow at him. "What were you planning to do in the meantime?" "Clear out," Dirk said, with a sour smile. "Epsilon Eridani, for starters-that's the nearest main port. Trouble is, I'd rather not travel with my own crew, things being as they are; they don't seem to be in any great rush to lift off. Can you stand a hitchhiker?"
Gar laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "Glad to have you, Dulain. We can spend the trip trying to figure out what happened back here."
Dirk found himself grinning, in spite of himself. "Hey ... I thought we were supposed to be rivals." Gar shook his head. "Friends, Dulain-right from the start. But I couldn't tell you that then, could I?" He rolled up his sleeve to the armband and put his finger on the stud to call his ship.
"No, I suppose not," Dirk said, amused. "Tell me--when did you realize you'd become the Wizard?"
But Gar only gave him a grin as he pressed the stud.
The golden ship fell down from the sky.
A Wizard In Bedlam Page 21