Fires of Azeroth com-3
Page 28
"We are old enemies, Morgaine kri Chya. Why this is, I have never understood… until late, until Nehmin. At least-I know your purpose. I find some peace with that. I only wonder why you have insisted on my survival this far. Can you not make up your mind? I do not believe at all that you have changed your intentions."
"I told you. I have a distaste for murder."
Roh laughed outright, then flung his head back, eyes shut against the sun. He smiled, smiled still when he looked at them. "I thank you," he said hoarsely. "It is up to me, is it not? You are waiting for me to decide; of course. You bade Vanye carry that Honor-blade of mine, long since hoping. If you will give it back to me, I think that-outside the sight of the Gate-I shall have the strength to use that gift. Only– there–I could not say what I would do, if you bring me close to that place. There are things I do not want to remember."
Morgaine reined to a halt. There was nothing but grass about them, no sight yet of the Gate, nor of the forest, nor anything living. Roh's face was very pale. She handed across to him the bone-hilted Honor-blade, his own. He took it, kissed the hilt, sheathed it. She gave him then his bow, and the one arrow that was his; and nodded to Vanye. "Give him his sword back."
Vanye did so, and was relieved to see that at the moment the stranger was gone and only Roh was with them; there was on Roh's face only a sober look, a strangely mild regret.
"I will not speak to him directly," Morgaine said at Roh's back. "My face stirs up other memories, I think, and perhaps it is best he look on it as little as possible under these circumstances. He has avoided me zealously. But do you know him, Vanye?"
"Yes, liyo.He is in command of himself… has been, I think, more than you have believed."
"Only with you… in Shathan. And with difficulty… now. I am the worst possible company for him; I am the only enemy Roh and Liell share. He cannot go with us. Chya Roh, you have knowledge enough it is deadly to leave you here; all that I do would rest on your will to rule that other nature of yours. You might bring the Gate to life again in this land, undo all that we have done, work ruin on us, and on this land."
He shook his head. "No. I much doubt that I could."
'Truth, Chya Roh?"
"The truth is that I do not know. There is a remote chance."
"Then I give you choice, Chya Roh. That you have the means with you and the strength to leave this life: choose that, if you think that safest for you and for Shathan; but if you choose… if you can for the rest of your years be strong enough… choose Shathan."
He backed his horse and looked at her, shaken for the first time, terror on his face. "I do not believe you could offer that."
"Vanye and I can make the Gate from here; we will wait here until we see you over the horizon, and then we will ride like the wind itself and reach it before you could. There we will wait until we know that you cannot follow. That eliminates the one chance. But the other, that you might do harm here-that rests on Chya Roh. I know now which man is making the choice: Roh would not risk harm to this land."
For a long time Roh said nothing, his head bowed, his hands clenched upon the sword and the Chya longbow which lay across his saddle.
"Suppose that I am strong enough?" he asked.
Then Sharrn will be glad to find you coming after him," said Morgaine. "And Vanye and I would envy you this exile."
A light came to Roh's face, and with a sudden move he reined about and rode-but he stopped then, and came back to them as they watched, bowed in the saddle to Morgaine, and then rode close to Vanye, leaned across and embraced him.
There were tears in his eyes. It was Roh, utterly. Vanye himself wept; a man might, at such a time.
Roh's hand pressed the back of his neck, bared now by the warrior's knot "Chya braid," Roh said. "You have gotten back your honor, Nhi Vanye i Chya; I am glad of that. And you have given me mine. Your road I do not truly envy. I thank you, cousin, for many things."
"It will not be easy for you."
"I swear to you," said Roh, "and I will keep that oath."
Then he rode away, and the distance and the sunlight came between.
Siptah eased up next Arrhan, quiet moving of horse and harness.
"I thank you," Vanye said.
"I am frightened," Morgaine said in a still voice. "It is the most conscienceless thing I have ever done."
"He will not harm Shathan."
"And I have set an oath on the arrha,that should he stay in this land, they would guard Nehmin still."
He looked at her, dismayed that she had borne this intention secret from him.
"Even my mercies," she said, "are not without calculation. You know this of me."
"I know," he said.
Roh passed out of sight over the horizon.
"Come," she said then, turning Siptah about. He reined Arrhan around and touched heel to her as Siptah sprang forward into a run. The golden grass flew under their hooves.
Soon the Gate itself was in sight, opal fire in the daylight.
Epilogue
It was a late spring… green grass covered all of Azeroth's plain, with wildflowers spangling areas gold and white.
And it was an unaccustomed place forarrhendim.
Four days the two had ridden from Shathan's edge, to this place where the land lay flat and empty on all sides and the forest could not even be seen. It gave them a curious feeling of nakedness, under the eye of the spring sun.
Loneliness came on them more when they came within sight of what they had come to find.
The Gate towered above the plain, stark and unnatural. As they rode near, the horses' hooves disturbed stones in the tall grass, bits of old wood, mostly rotted, which remained of a great camp that had once sat at the base of it.
They drew rein almost beneath the Gate, in a patch of sun which fell through the empty arch. Age-pitted it was, and one of the great stones stood aslant, after only so few years. The swiftness of that ruin sent a chill upon them.
Thekhemeis of the pair dismounted… a smallish man, his dark hair much streaked with silver. An iron ring was on his finger. He looked into the Gate, which only looked through into more of the grassland and the flowers, and stood staring at that until hisarrhen came walking up behind him and set his hand on his shoulder.
"What must it have been?" Sin wondered aloud. "Ellur, what was it to look on when it led somewhere?"
Theqhal had no answer, only stared, his gray eyes full of thoughts. And at last he pressed Sin's shoulder and turned away. There was a longbow bound to the saddle of Sin's horse. Ellur loosed it and brought it to him.
Sin took the aged bow into his hands, reverently handled the dark, strange wood, of design unlike any made in Shathan, and strung it with great care. It was uncertain whether it had the strength to be fired any longer; it had been long since its master had set hand to it. But one arrow they had brought, green-fletched, and Sin set that to the string, drew back full, aimed it high into the sun.
It flew, lost from sight when it fell.
He unstrung the bow and laid it within the arch of the Gate. Then he stepped back and gazed there a last time.
"Come," Ellur urged him. "Sin, do not grieve. The old bowman would not wish it."
"I do not," he said, but his eyes stung, and he wiped at them.
He turned then, and rose into the saddle to put the place behind him. Ellur joined him. Four days would see them safe in forest shadow.
Ellur looked back once, but Sin did not. He clenched his hand upon the ring and stared straight ahead.
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