“When you have done what I require and have gained your child – where will you go?”
The male angled his massive head toward his mate and it seemed to Manon that the two of them conferred though their communion was closed to him.
The male swung his head back. “We will go wherever we please. What is your requirement? We want child.”
This reply was much less instructive than Manon desired. Nonetheless, he shrugged it off and kept the tone of his voice casual. “Of course, and soon you will have your child. But I wish to learn something of you and your kind. All will proceed more efficiently if you answer my questions. From whence do you and your kind arise?”
Without looking away, the male responded without hesitation. “We were made to inhabit the hollow spaces.”
“Hollow spaces?” Manon frowned. “By whom were you made?”
“By Him Who Made All Things.”
The god kept any expression of contempt from marring the features of his second self, but back in the deep room of his tower, he laughed. So, then, the giant beasts which were so greatly feared by so many had also swallowed the concept of a Maker. He found a certain relief in this, for it meant that the control he exerted over them was stronger than he’d thought, and when the time came to properly reduce the “Maker”; all beings, including the Laish, would learn the name of their true god. Even these great beasts would bow to him. There would be no exceptions to his rule.
Studying them through the eyes of his second self, he asked, “What are these hollow spaces of which you speak?”
“The hollow spaces between.”
Manon frowned again. “Between what?”
“Between all other things. We were made to inhabit the hollow spaces between all other things.”
The god considered this strange statement for a moment before asking a further question. “What is your purpose?”
There was a long silence; then, “Purpose?”
“Why were you made – what is the reason for your making?” Though he had become convinced of the fallacy of “creation”, still, knowing that the beasts before him believed in it, Manon couched the question in terms they would grasp.
“We were made to consume the residue of dead things,” the dragon responded.
Manon considered this unusual statement for a moment. “Dead things?”
“All things die – stars, worlds, all things. When they die, and become something else, there is a residue that remains.” The dragon shifted his massive bulk and brought his head closer to the god. “That which remains is discarded and becomes part of the hollow spaces between. We consume it that the hollow spaces may remain.”
Manon’s features assumed an expression of concern. “It must be a difficult thing for your kind to be upon this world. There are few dead things here. This world is alive.”
The Laish made an odd sound that might have been laughter. “Alive? Most things die on this world. They are dying even as they live.”
“Yes,” Manon agreed, “but they live until they die. I know that you have consumed things that were yet alive and not dead.”
Again, the odd sound rustled through the darkness of the canyon. “But those things were dying. Anything that is dying – to us is already dead.”
Manon dropped that line of questioning for another. “How did you come to this world from the hollow spaces?”
The male changed his position upon the rock wall, sending showers of stones crashing into the canyon. “Long ago; there was one like unto you. He opened a door.”
“And will you return through that door when we have concluded matters on this world?” Manon inquired. “Will you return to the ‘hollow spaces’ when you have gained your child?”
“We will go where we wish,” the male replied as before, and the massive creature’s tone as he delivered this statement was flat, unequivocal. “What is your requirement?”
Despite the vague threat veiled in the dragon’s answer, Manon was less troubled by it now than he would have been before he learned that these great beasts were as deluded as every other foolish soul in the universe. Back in the tower, he smiled to himself.
“I want you to slay a human,” he told the dragons through the mouth of his second self. “A female human – a woman. You must not consume her, nor burn her body; nor must you slay her mate. You may burn and consume all else that you wish in the countryside round about, but you must not destroy the woman after she is slain, so that her mate may look upon her body and understand that I caused it.” He gave them a moment to digest this, and then continued. “I do not know where this woman is at all times but I will give you her description and identity. Does your kind understand the differences between humans?”
“No,” the male replied. “They are very small and are much alike to us in appearance.”
Manon frowned. “Then how will you know her?”
“You must bring us a thing of her.”
Manon’s frown deepened. “A thing?”
“A thing she has touched upon which she has left her essence.”
This was a complication that would take time, but as there were other things in motion which would undoubtedly take longer, the god was not displeased.
“What of her mate? I do not wish him slain – do you need a thing of his as well?”
Again, the male turned away and the dragons seemed to confer. This conference resulted in a flurry of agitation from the female that slowly subsided as the male turned back.
“Her mate is the man with the Sword?”
Caught by surprise, Manon could not keep an expression of astonishment from the features of his projection standing on the floor of the canyon. Gazing into the eyes of the dragon, he thought he saw something flicker in the ebony depths.
“How do you know of him?” He demanded.
“We have seen him.”
“Where?”
“Far to the south. He bears a thing in his possession that is not of this world. We were drawn to it, and went to see. His sword, like us, is not of this world.”
“I know this.” Despite this unsettling statement, Manon regained his composure and once again exhibited calm. “You will slay his woman?”
“Bring us a thing of her,” the dragon answered.
“I will see it done – and then you will slay her,” Manon repeated with harsh insistence.
After a moment the male concurred. “We will slay her.”
The god gazed with hardened eyes at the dragons. “After she is slain, you will report the matter to me, take your child, and go.”
“As you say.” And the male turned his head away.
The god watched them for a moment longer and then turned away toward the egress from the canyon. When he had brought the projection of himself back across the cold plain and into the tower where he absorbed it back into himself, Manon went up to the highest window in the tower and sent a sharp, compelling thought out into the ether, summoning the great vulture to him.
It was time to set the end – and consequently the beginning – of all things in motion.
33 .
For several days after Matibar’s arrival, Aram was busy with arranging for the silver and an armed escort to be sent south to Mullen at Durck and with the gathering of provisions for the coming influx of men. This included sending men southward to Stell to see how much could be garnered from the storehouses there. He also bade Kipwing to go eastward into Lamont to report to Jame and to tell Eoarl and Dunna of the injuring of their son and that he would send Muray to them as soon as he was able to travel. With all that though, he never failed to spend time every day with Thaniel. Now that his appetite had returned, the horse rapidly grew stronger and began to stand and move about his stall. Most of the wounds on his belly finally healed and began to scar over.
Aram left Matibar to Findaen and Wamlak. On examining the bows being created by Wamlak and Arthrus, the archer from the east expressed approval of the design, which was basically a copy of those Aram h
ad created years before. Even so, he was able to show them several improvements which rendered the weapons not only more efficient but allowed them to be produced more easily and quickly.
One day, about a week before Aram intended to take Matibar westward to the fortress to meet with the other captains, he found Thaniel in high dudgeon.
The horse was standing with his massive front hooves splayed out to the side and his broad neck arched. He was quivering with anger.
Entering the stall and seeing the horse’s attitude, Aram stopped short.
Thaniel fixed him with his dark eyes. “Huram bore you into the south.”
Slowly, cautiously, Aram nodded. “Yes, to Durck.”
“But it is my place to bear you where you will, Aram, and not that of any other.”
“Yes,” Aram agreed, “it is your place and yours alone. But you were yet too ill to bear me, my friend, and the journey was urgent. Huram graciously offered to stand – this once only – in your stead. We did not go to war after all, but just to receive news out of Seneca.”
Thaniel blinked, some of the arch went out of his neck, and he drew in his front legs to stand taller. “What news has come out of Seneca?”
“They are coming to join with us in our struggles.”
The horse stared. “What has happened to alter their thinking?”
“The Eldest died, and his son ascended into his place.”
“The fair-haired boy who smiled?”
Aram grinned at the description. “Andar, yes. He rules there now, and has decided to join with us.”
“But this is good news,” Thaniel stated.
“It is indeed,” Aram agreed.
“Nonetheless, I am yet angry.”
Aram watched him for a moment. “What do you want to do about it?” He asked.
“I am leaving this stall and going outside. I need to run again.”
Aram glanced at Bertrain who shook his head slightly.
Thaniel caught the exchange and snorted. “The doctor has done much for me, but can do nothing further. I am going out,” he repeated.
Aram looked over again at Bertrain. From a discreet distance, the surgeon indicated the big horse’s underside. “There is a gash that has not yet healed – it still seeps.”
Thaniel swung his head around to look at Bertrain but then returned his attention to Aram. “The doctor may treat any lingering issues that trouble him, but I can get no better in this place. Either you will agree and swing wide the door, or I will kick my way through the wall.” He drew himself up until his head nearly touched the rafters in Arthrus’ shop. “I am going outside – into the sun and onto the grass.”
Ignoring Bertrain, whose frown had spread across his features to alarming proportions, Aram slowly nodded. “Alright – but with these strictures. You won’t go far from town and you will present yourself to the surgeon every evening at a time appointed by him.”
Thaniel returned his gaze for a moment. “And no one else will bear you, ever.”
“No,” agreed Aram. “No one else – ever.”
“Then let me out into the sun.”
After that day, Thaniel improved in dramatic fashion. Before another week passed, the wound along his belly had ceased to seep and the great horse was spending a portion of each day simply running across the grassy slopes between Arthrus’ shop and the forested hills, regaining his strength. His appetite increased and the bones that bulged against his skin along his sides began to recede into healthy flesh.
Finally, Aram’s preparations to receive the men from Seneca were completed and being executed. He decided it was time to go across the prairie to the fortress and check on the army. In the clear light of a summer morning, he, Findaen, and Matibar rode westward across the prairie. He thought once or twice about inquiring as to Thaniel’s welfare as the horse bore him westward but decided against it. Instead, he resolved to set a leisurely pace, ostensibly so that the three men could talk and Matibar could be made acquainted with the geography of the lands immediately to the west of Derosa. In truth Aram had resolved not to push Thaniel too hard until he was sure of his returning health.
The sun caught them just as the walls of the fortress hove into view. All across the rolling grasslands to the north of the structure, thousands of men went about the daily routine of life in camp. As the horsemen grew closer, one of the soldiers nearest them saw them and raised his voice in a shout.
Running back toward his tent this man, joined by every other man as they became aware that the Aram and the others drew near, collected his spear and raised it high over his head, holding the shaft of the weapon horizontal to the ground.
A mighty cheer arose from thousands of throats and reverberated across the prairie, gaining strength as it went.
Spears, held high and at the horizontal, and swords held aloft and pointed toward the sky, abruptly grew above the grasslands everywhere like a forest of oddly-shaped trees.
Aram looked over at Findaen, puzzled.
Findaen grinned but his eyes were serious. “For you, my lord,” he said simply.
Abashed, Aram lifted one gauntleted hand in reply and held it there as Thaniel cantered slowly toward the fortress. The cheers continued, rolling in waves back and forth across the camp until Aram reached the fortress. He dismounted and after one last acknowledgement of the cheering men, entered the structure.
Inside, out of sight of the army, he paused and looked over at Findaen. “Why?” He asked.
Findaen shrugged, but he also chuckled quietly as he did so. “You led them to victory, my lord.” His chuckle strengthened until it became a laugh and he shook his head in wonder. “You never fail to surprise me, Lord Aram.” He held up his hand as Aram began to protest. “I’ve known you long enough to know how you see yourself – and how you view the things you do. But others see you differently – very differently.” Moving his hand, he indicated Matibar. “Ask the captain, who has known you but for a short time. It is a truth which we have all grasped. Just as it seems natural for you to lead; it seems natural for those men to follow you.”
Stepping back to the opening, Findaen looked out upon the army where the cheers were just now fading away. An odd look fell across his features.
“The last time we – and they – saw you, my lord, there was much doubt as to whether or not you would survive your injuries.” He turned toward Aram. Moisture shone in his eyes. “But here you are – returned in triumph to the men that you led to victory. Whether you wanted to hear that cheer or not, my lord, is – forgive me – of little consequence. They needed to do it.”
Aram watched him for a moment, meeting his gaze, and then reached out and laid a hand on his brother-in-law’s shoulder. Then he turned away toward the barracks which were filled with the wounded. “I want to check on Muray and the rest of the injured. Then we’ll go up and introduce Captain Matibar to the others.”
The barracks was filled with beds lined up along both walls with another row down the center upon which lay the injured from the battle. Aram turned to Findaen in surprise. “All these beds –?”
Findaen nodded. “While the army was away, Ka’en directed Arthrus to construct the frames while the women of Derosa made mattresses and blankets. She knew they would be needed.”
Aram stared at him. “My wife did this?”
“Yes.”
Aram thought about the lines of tiredness at the corners of her eyes and the fact that she was getting big with child – yet she thought of him and his men and executed a plan to care for the returning wounded. Once again, he marveled at the strength and wisdom of the beautiful woman who’d consented to be his life companion.
“Lord Aram!”
A familiar, though weakened, voice brought him out of his thoughts. Muray lay in one of the first beds on the right near the exterior wall.
“They didn’t get you then, did they, my lord?”
Muray was swathed in bandages from his neck to below his waist, and his right leg was completely e
ncased. Aram sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and gazed into the fierce blue eyes.
“No – thanks to you and others, I got out of it.”
Muray grinned weakly. “I think I killed one of those beasts.”
Returning the grin cautiously, Aram nodded. “You did indeed. It fell right on top of you. How are you, Muray?”
“I’ll live – and I’ll walk. The surgeon said I probably wouldn’t walk – but I will.”
“When do you think that you’ll be able to go to your father and mother?”
Despite his weakened condition, Muray started at this question and tried to sit. Gently, Aram forced him back down.
“I’m not leaving the army, Lord Aram, I’m not.” Muray’s eyes brightened with fierce decision. “I’m staying ‘til the end.”
Aram frowned. “You’re hurt badly.”
Muray shook his head. “Not as bad as it seems, and I’m a strong healer. I’m not going back to Lamont – not until all of this is over.”
Aram sat in silence for a moment. “Would they come to you, if I sent for them?”
Muray closed his eyes and considered. When he opened them again, small streams of moisture seeped from the corners. “Yeah, my ken and mum would come.”
“Would you like me to send for them?”
Muray squeezed his eyes tight and nodded.
Aram laid his hand on the man’s arm. “I’ll send Kipwing today.” He looked up at Findaen, who nodded silently and turned to leave the room, but Aram stopped him. “Find Erak Barris – tell him to gather a few men and extra horses and go get them.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Aram looked back at Muray, whose eyes were still closed, straining to keep his tears from bursting forth in a stream. “I’ll check back on you, my friend.”
Muray simply nodded.
After speaking to each man who was awake and consulting with the surgeons on the more seriously wounded, Aram went up to the parapet to introduce Matibar to Boman. Edwar was with the governor. The Lamontan was surprised to see the captain, and shook his hand gladly when told of the meaning of Matibar’s presence.
Kelven's Riddle Book Four Page 23