by Glen Cook
The pool had grown again. Water poured out of it now. The moisture ran down into the desert, where it quickly vanished. Plants and creatures crowded the short brook in a dense, intense little life-patch. Life had launched its counterattack against desolation.
This was Sahmanan’s doing. She was devoted to restoring her homeland. Her master simply wanted to extend his rule, to find himself new worshippers.
The shaking became gentler. Ethrian shifted his attention to the body lying between the beast’s paws.
It had grown. It was about to become that of a man. A man who would be tall and powerful and dark, like his mother’s brothers. The sleeper’s face resembled that of his uncle Valther, the one who had married the Shinsaner sorceress. Ethrian and his mother had been living with Valther when Lord Chin’s agents had spirited them away.
He considered the woman trying to waken him. She had substance now. She appeared to be in her late teens, and of promising beauty.
Only in her eyes was the past of her, the time-depth of her, obvious. Her eyes were older and deader than the desert.
Ethrian permitted himself to be wakened.
“Deliverer! You have to free us, or we’re doomed.”
What had they contrived now? “Show it to me.”
The woman tried to drag him past the pond.
“I gave you power. Reach back. Show me from the beginning.”
She made excuses. That would require intercession by the Great One. He was preoccupied.
“Unpreoccupy him. Tell him to make time.” How can I have aged in dreams? he wondered.
He had, by drawing on those minds he was not entirely aware of having tapped. He was not the boy who had swum the strait and walked the beaches of Nawami. He was no longer the youth who had flown to witness his father’s passing. He had become someone else. Someone more sure of himself and more determined to remain his own creature. He had developed an arrogant face. He now had eyes like a snake.
“Please!”
“Show me. From the beginning.”
A savage bellow raged across his mind as the stone beast responded. It flung images at him like a barrage of angry spears.
They were coming. Shinsan was in the desert. The stone beast was animating a handful of its soldiers in waiting. They were out there now, overwhelming Shinsan’s reconnaissance parties.
Ethrian saw it through, to the moment, and wondered if anything could stop the Dread Empire. What drove it so? Did it feel compelled to conquer even lifeless lands?
He yielded no more power. The beast was trying to panic him.
Its soldiers obliterated a half-dozen patrols. The explorers stopped coming.
“Deliver us!” the woman begged, her soft eyes filled with water. “They’ll come again, and they’ll destroy us.”
“They might. That’s their nature. Who is master here?”
“The Great One.”
“Then you get no help from me. I won’t bend the knee to him.” Ethrian turned away, stripped himself, waded into the cool of the pool. Fish brushed his legs. Waterfowl chivied their young into the reeds. Sahmanan pursued him along the pond’s edge, begging from beyond the vegetation.
“You’ve made a work of art of this,” he told her. “Why not confine yourself to this? The patrols are gone.”
Would they give up? Of course not. Shinsan did not accept defeat. Her soldiers would try an alternate approach. It would have more weight behind it.
What would they do if they caught him?
A slow smile crossed his lips. Shinsan might provide the leverage needed to best the stone beast. He would play the wronged prisoner welcoming liberation. Why should they know whom he was… ? If he did not free it, the Tervola would dispatch this trifling godlet before noticing an ordinary boy.
He was living on borrowed time anyway. He could lay his bet with little to lose. The beast would accept his demands or perish.
Perhaps it discerned the trend of his thoughts. It growled. It threatened him. It pleaded. He ignored it, except to say, “When you’re ready to pledge yourself my slave.”
Hellish laughter rolled across the desert. It was the great jest of the godling’s lifetime.
Question, Ethrian said to himself. How do you force a god to keep his word after you strong-arm him into giving it?
He climbed out of the pool and returned to his resting place. The desert air dried him quickly. “Sahmanan, come here. Sit. Tell me about yourself.”
She started talking, and casting frightened glances upward.
“No. Tell me about the child. About the little girl who grew up to become a priestess. About her mother and father and sisters and brothers. Tell me what games she liked, and what songs her friends sang when they played.”
Black, brooding disapproval drifted down from above. The beast knew what seeds he was planting.
“Tell me your story. I’ll tell you mine.”
“Why?”
“Because we were all children before we became whatever we became. In the child is the understanding.”
“Where did you get that idea?”
“From an enemy. Lord Chin, of the Tervola. A man with a black heart, but brilliant even so. One of my grandfather’s master teachers.”
“Your grandfather?”
“Varthlokkur. They called him the Empire Destroyer. The most terrible wizard ever to tread this earth.”
“I don’t know the name.” She seemed taken aback.
“He’s one of the great old wickednesses of the world. You could’ve seen him if you’d waited a second longer out west. He showed up just after you charged into the wall.” Ethrian laughed a soft, wicked little laugh. “He might have seen you. I’m sure he saw me.”
Her eyes widened. She glanced up, momentarily worried.
The stone beast ignored her. It was too busy with its patrols.
Ethrian toyed with Sahmanan for weeks, prospecting for a vein of humanity. It was there. He knew it with a certainty that was absolute. It compelled her to “waste” her strength on her restoration hobby.
He had few successes. That vein lay deep, like a diamond seam. Layers lay over its top. The meek, innocent ingenue with empty eyes. The creature older than the stone beast itself, that had built itself a heart of steel. The priestess….
Ethrian resumed a normal cycle of sleep and waking, doing his sleeping during the fury of the day.
He wakened one afternoon, suddenly. Instinct made him leap into the air. Terror wriggled down into the core of him. The stone beast had flung out a tremendous bolt of power. The surge left a bleak, hungry vacuum behind. He shuffled this way, then that, moving aimlessly while trying to assemble his wits.
“They came back!” Sahmanan wailed. “They’re going to destroy us!”
He felt the stone beast’s fear. It had fought, and had lost, and in its despair had flung everything in one great black hammer stroke. If that blow failed, doom was upon Nawami.
Ethrian raced around the beast’s paw. He clambered up its back. Sahmanan followed. At the base of the thing’s neck, she gasped, “Get down! He failed!”
Ethrian flung himself against weathered stone. Something tortured the air. He heard the crackle of bacon frying magnified ten thousand times. A titan’s drumstick hammered out one mighty beat. Ethrian turned his head warily. He saw an iridescent dust tower hundreds of yards high, settling back to earth. A thousand diabolic faces leered out, laughed, faded as an unseasonal breeze dispersed the dust.
The stone beast whined. Sahmanan begged. Ethrian ignored them. He scrambled to the peak of the monster’s head, sat cross-legged, faced west. He let his being slip its moorings and drift toward the grey mountains.
He halted when he spied something atop a long, dusty dune, facing the stone beast. Another joined it, then another. Their shapes seemed to waver.
Ethrian drifted closer. It wasn’t just the heat making their edges raggedy. Their cloaks of office rippled in the breeze. There were six of them now. No: seven. The one in the middle
was shorter and wider. They wore grotesque masks. Their jeweled eyepieces glistened in the desert sun.
Tervola, he thought. They’ve stopped playing. They’ve come to see for themselves.
Soldiers of the Dread Empire joined their captains. A dozen. A score. A hundred. They stared at the stone beast.
The short one spoke. He made a slight gesture, then descended the back of the dune. One Tervola and a handful of men started forward. The others settled down as if for a long wait.
Ethrian fled toward his body.
SIX: YEAR 1016 AFE
THE DESERT
Shih-ka’i clambered to the top of the grey dune. His legs ached. He was soaked with perspiration. He felt greasy inside his field gear. He was tired and short on patience. What am I doing out here? he wondered. I belong with the Fourth Demonstration.
He stopped. The breeze felt good, though it had to work to penetrate his field dress. He surveyed the tower of dust still falling in the distance. Other dusts piled up around his boots, gently driven by the wind.
“Very spectacular, Lord.”
“Thank you, Pan ku. I thought it might say something to our friends over there.” He stared at the solitary mountain. Other Tervola joined him. “Am I seeing things?” he asked. “Or is that a creature carved out of stone?”
“I believe so, Lord,” said a Tervola named Meng Chiao. “It looks old.”
“Perhaps. But it’s alive. It’s the source of our trouble. Set up a transfer behind the dune. I’m returning to the fortress. I’ll be right back.”
“As you wish, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i slid and scrambled down the west face of the dune, began trudging toward the nearest active portal. “I’m too old for this,” he grumbled.
“Lord?”
“Talking to myself, Pan ku. Ignore me.”
He wondered why he needed to be here on the line. He was no field officer. The novelty? He had never served with a combat legion.
He stopped. “Pan ku, there’s no need for you to dog me. I’m coming back. Why don’t you wait here?”
“If you command me to, Lord. Otherwise, I wouldn’t feel right.”
“All right. If you don’t mind the exercise and the sun.” The man’s devotion gave Shih-ka’i a small, pleasant feeling of worthiness. Rare were the Tervola who inspired the personal affection of their men.
“I don’t mind, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i transferred to the Seventeenth’s headquarters. Had he become too dependent on that one sorcery? It had its limits, and he dared not lose them in the bigger picture. His brethren had learned that the hard way during the last war. A large force could not be supported through transfers alone. They were too slow. They had too small a capacity. Their lifespans were limited. Only a few could operate within a small area. More began interfering with one another. Still, they were superb backing for small tactical operations. To move and supply a legion, old-fashioned boot leather and wagon wheels remained the most practical approach.
Portals had their dangers, too. Sometimes people disappeared. That had happened too often during the western war. The wizard Varthlokkur had learned to tamper with the transfer stream.
Shih-ka’i shuddered.
Easy, he told himself. It’s just weariness working on your nerves.
Nerves were not the whole problem. He was apprehensive about that stone thing. Caution was indicated. It was a complete unknown.
Tasi-feng greeted him. “What’s happening out there, Lord?”
“We found the center of it. Giant artifact shaped like an animal. Looks like it was carved from a mountain. I sent Hsu Shen to take a closer look. Are the ballistae ready?”
“They’re waiting, Lord. I inspected them myself. The Candidates did a good job. Every shaft was properly impressed and ranged. All we need is someone to target up front.”
“I’ll do that. How many shafts?”
“Twelve were all we had, Lord. Six in the trough, six standing by.”
“Should be adequate. The damned thing will look like the moths have been after it before we’re done. Let’s look them over.”
The ballista battery waited in a field outside the fortress. At first glance the engines looked like common siege equipment. The frames, troughs, and cranks were of standard imperial design. The specialized pieces were the bows and strings. Those had been prepared in a thaumaturgical arsenal hidden deep in the heart of Shinsan. Not even Lord Ssu-ma knew its location.
The shafts, too, had come out of that arsenal. They were of a very dark, hard, and heavy material. Inlaid into them were traceries of silver, gold, and a dull greyish metal. The heads were crystals in spearhead shape. They glowed with a fierce inner fire.
Shih-ka’i thumbed one, asked, “Ever wonder what one of these costs?”
“A small fortune,” Tasi-feng guessed.
“I’m sure. Crank one back. And set me a portal here so I can jump back and forth.”
“I arranged a portal earlier, Lord. Over here. I thought you’d want to range them yourself.”
Shih-ka’i scowled. Lord Lun-yu was too damned efficient. Or he himself was too predictable. “First three at two-minute intervals. I’ll come back if I want more.” He surveyed the crews. Candidates all. Ordinary soldiers were not permitted to operate specialized equipment. It became dangerous in the hands of the untrained.
“You. Go ahead and shoot.”
A ballista string whipped forward. There was a tremendous crack. A shaft hurtled into the air, a quicksilver sliver slicing into the distance. It did not follow a normal, gravity-defeated arc. It was still climbing when last it caught the sun.
“Two-minute intervals,” Shih-ka’i reminded. He entered the ready portal. Pan ku followed as soon as the portal permitted.
A minute later Shih-ka’i topped the dusty dune in the far desert. He faced westward, waiting for a silver sparkle to appear over the mountains. “Hsu Shen run into anything yet?” he asked.
“No, Lord. He’s halfway there.”
“Signal him to take a position where we can see him, then to wait. I don’t want him too close to target. Ah. Here it comes.”
He sealed his eyes, reached with Tervola-trained senses, touched the hurtling shaft. Another part of his mind found the stone thing. He etched a mental line from spear to target. “Coming down, men. Shield your eyes.”
The shaft hurtled toward the earth. Impact! Light-balls swarmed the touchdown point like a hundred round lightning flashes blasting away in rapid succession.
Shih-ka’i opened his eyes. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured. He had missed by two hundred yards.
Roaring, rising heat sucked up dust from hundreds of feet around the impact point. A pool fifty feet in diameter bubbled and splashed like overheated water. “Warm your hands around that,” Shih-ka’i said. But his cockiness had fled.
He had missed. That could be no accident. He faced west again, watching for the next flash of silver.
He concentrated harder this time. He retained control till the moment of impact. And this time he felt the will resisting his own.
He opened his eyes. “Another miss!” But this time the first great upwelling of molten earth splashed the flank of the stone thing. He had brought the weapon in close.
“More power on the impression?” he asked the other Tervola.
One of the oldest, exiled by Lord Kuo, replied, “No, Lord. Range and impression felt perfect. It’s the targeting. Something is resisting.”
“Then I didn’t imagine that.”
“No, Lord. I suggest we all target the next one.”
“Absolutely,” Shih-ka’i said. “I want to see what happens when we get a direct hit.”
“It’s coming, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i felt for the shaft and found it. He drew his targeting line. His brethren came in. They made of the line a tube from which the missile could not escape.
The missile hurtled down. The will trying to shunt it aside failed. It struck. Shih-ka’i opened his eyes.
Gouts of molten rock had blown out of the stone thing’s haunch. “Dead on,” he crowed. “Dead on. Now we wait.”
They did not wait long.
“Is that someone standing on its head?” Shih-ka’i asked. He squinted, could not be sure. His eyes weren’t what they had been.
“Looks like two of them, Lord.”
“Curious. Can you tell what they’re doing?”
“No, Lord.”
A great angry bellow shook the desert. It filled the universe and rattled Shihka’i’s teeth in his jaws. Dust devils raced across the barrens, circling in panic. Shih-ka’i pictured this as the flight of frightened ghosts. He smiled at his own imagination. “Prepare to defend yourselves,” he ordered.
Something had changed. The feel of the situation was different. One of the Tervola said, “Something is happening around the thing’s forelegs, Lord.”
Shih-ka’i squinted again. “Tell Hsu Shen to get back here now!” he snapped.
Soldiers were pouring into the desert! Out of nowhere. Horsemen. Infantry. Battalion after battalion….
“Form line of battle, gentlemen. Meng Chiao. Prepare portals for an emergency withdrawal. Gentlemen, I’m returning to the fortress. I’ll make my arrangements there and come right back.”
He descended the rear of the dune, slipping and sliding in his haste. Pan ku was a step behind him. He hoped the others did not think he was fleeing. They might lose heart.
If there was a flaw in Shinsan’s military structure, it was the failure of the Tervola to meet the high personal standards they set for their men. They themselves sometimes yielded to emotion on the battlefield.
Tasi-feng was surprised to see him back so soon. “Lord Ssu-ma. Did something go wrong?”
“Not at this end. I may have made a poor decision up there. We’ve awakened something very old and very nasty. Nine shafts left? I want the first six at thirty-second intervals. Portals are to be arranged to allow the forward group to be evacuated in a hurry if necessary. Inform all legion commanders that Seventeenth is combat operational. They’re to be ready to march on short notice. Contact Northern Army. Tell them I may invoke my right to demand reinforcements.”
“Lord, we’re concentrating too many portals in too small an area.”
