Fires of Azeroth

by C. J. Cherryh

  They rode up the slope of the hill and among the twisted trees, down again by the winding trail among the rocks, so that they came out again on the meadow.

  "No sight of them," Vanye muttered, looking uneasily river-ward.

  "Ah, they have learned a slight caution of this place. But it will not last, I fear."

  She turned Siptah to the right hand, and warily they rode away from that vicinity into the woods, through brush, into an area where the trees grew very large. A path guided them… and our enemies next, Vanye thought dismally. Horses had been down it recently.

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  "Liyo," he said after a space. "Where do we go? What manner of thing have you in mind?"

  She shrugged, and seemed worried. "The arrha have withdrawn. And they are not above abandoning us to the enemy. I am concerned for Lellin and Sezar. They have not reported back to me. I do not like to take their horses from where they expect to find them, but likewise I do not want to lose them."

  "They are out there— toward the enemy?"

  "That is where they should be. At the moment, I am concerned that the arrha are not where they should be."

  "And Roh."

  "And Roh," she echoed, "though in some part I doubt he is the center of this matter. He may himself be in danger. Merir… Merir is the one who deserves watching. Honorable he may be— but thee learns, Vanye, thee learns… that the good and virtuous fight us as bitterly as those who are neither good nor virtuous… more so, perhaps— for they do so unselfishly, and bravely… and we must most of all beware of them. Do you not see that I am what the Shiua name me? And would a man not be entitled to resist that… for himself— most of all for what the arrhend protects?—

  Forgive me. Thee knows my darker moods; I should not shed them on thee."

  "I am your man, liyo. "

  She looked at him, surprised out of the bitterness that had been her expression.

  And around the bending of the trail there stood one of the arrha, a young qhalur woman. Silent, she stood among the branches and ferns, light in green shadow.

  "Where are your fellows?" Morgaine asked of her.

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  The arrha lifted her arm, pointed the way that they were going.

  Morgaine started Siptah forward again, slowly, for the trail wound much.

  Vanye looked back; the arrha still stood there, a too-conspicuous sentinel.

  Then they passed into another space where few trees grew, and in that open space there were horses; the arrhendim were there, seated… the six who had gone out with Merir, and Roh. Roh gathered himself to his feet as they came.

  "Where is Merir?" Morgaine asked.

  "Off that way," Roh said, and pointed farther on. He spoke in Andurin, and looked up… shaven, washed, he looked more the dai-uyo he was, and he bore his weapons again. "No one is doing anything. Word is the Shiua are closing on us from two sides, and the old men are still back there talking. If no one moves, we will have Hetharu in our midst before evenfall."

  "Come," said Morgaine, and slid down from the saddle.

  "We leave the horses here." She wrapped Siptah's reins about the branch, and Vanye did the same for the horse he rode and the ones he led.

  None of the arrhendim had done more than look up.

  "Come," she bade them; and in a stronger voice: "Come with me."

  They looked uncertain; Larrel and Kessun stood up, but the elder arrhendim were reluctant. Finally Sharrn did so, and the six came, gathering up their weapons.

  Wherever they were bound, Morgaine seemed to have been this way before: Vanye stayed at her shoulder, that Roh should not walk too near her, watching either side and sometimes looking back at the arrhendim who trailed them on this suddenly narrower path. He was far from easy in his mind, for they were all too vulnerable to treachery, for all the power of the weapons Morgaine bore.

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  Gray stone confronted them through the tangle of vines and branches…

  lichen-spotted, much weathered, standing stones thrust up among the roots of trees, closer and closer, until the stones formed an aisle shadowed by the vast trees.

  Then they had sight of a small stone dome at the end of that aisle. Arrha guarded the entry of it, one on either side of the doorway that stood open, but there was no offer to oppose their coming.

  Voices echoed within, echoes that died away at their tread within the doorway. Torches lit that small dome within; arrha sat as a mass of white on stone seats that encompassed more than half the circuit of the walls: the center of the floor was clear, and there Merir stood. Merir was the one who had been speaking and he faced them there.

  One of the arrha arose, an incredibly old qhal, withered and bent and leaning on a staff. He stepped down onto the floor where Merir stood.

  "You do not belong here," that one said. "Arms have never come into this council. We ask that you go away."

  Morgaine did nothing. A look of fear was on all the arrha… old ones, very old, all those gathered here.

  "If we contest for power," said another, "we will all die. But there are others who hold the power we have. Leave."

  "My lord Merir." Morgaine walked from the doorway to the center of the room; Vanye followed her: so did the others, taking their place before that council. His distress was acute, that she thus separated herself from the door. There were guards, arrha, bearing Gate-force, he suspected. He could not prevail against that. If it came to using her weapons she needed him close to her, where he was able to guard her back… where he was not in the way of what had taken at least one comrade of theirs. "My lords,"

  she said, looking about her. "There are enemies advancing. What do you plan to do?"

  "We do not," said the elder, "admit you to our counsel."

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  "Do you refuse my help?"

  There was deep silence. The elder's staff rang on the floor and echoed, the slightest tap.

  "My lords," she said. "If you do refuse my help, I will leave you. And if I leave you, you will fall."

  Merir stepped forward half a pace. Vanye held his breath, for the old lord knew, knew utterly what she meant, the destruction of the Gate which gave them power, in her passing from this world. And surely he had told the others.

  "That which you bear," said Merir, "is greater than the power of all the arrha combined. But it was fashioned as a weapon; and that… that is madness. It is an evil thing. It cannot be otherwise. For fifteen hundred years… we have used our power gently. To protect. To heal. You stand here, alive because of it… and tell us that if we do not bow to your demands, then you will turn that thing against us, and destroy Nehmin, and leave us naked to our enemies. But if we do as you wish— what, then? What are your terms? Let us hear them."

  There was no sound or movement after.

  But suddenly other footfalls whispered on the stones at the doorway.

  Lellin, and Sezar.

  "Grandfather," Lellin said in a hushed voice, and bowed. "Lady… you bade me come when the enemy had completed their crossing. They have done so. They are moving this way."

  A murmur ran the circuit of the room, swiftly dying, so that the tiniest movement could be heard.

  "You have been out doing her bidding," Merir said.

  "I told you, Grandfather, that I went to do that."

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  Merir shook his head slowly, lifted his face to look on Morgaine, on all of them, on the arrhendim who had come with Morgaine, and all but Perrin lowered their eyes, unable to meet his.

  "You have already begun to destroy us," Merir said. His voice was full of tears. "You offer your way… or nothing. We might have been able to defeat the Shiua, as we did the sirrindim who came on us long ago. But now we have come to this, that armed force has entered this place, where arms never have come before, and some have faith in them."

  "Lell
in Erirrhen has said," the elder arrha declared, "that he is hers, lord Merir. And therefore he insists on coming and going at her bidding, refusing ours."

  "Else," Morgaine said in a loud voice, "the council would keep me blind and deaf. And Lellin and Sezar in their service to me have kept me from taking other action, my lords. They know what you do not. By serving me… they have served you."

  Merir's lips made a taut line, and Lellin looked at the old lord, bowed to him very slowly, and to Morgaine… faced his grandfather again. "Of our own choice." Lellin said. "Grandfather— the arrhendim are needed.

  Please. Come and look. They cover the riverside like a new forest. Come and look on this thing." He cast an anguished glance about at all the arrha.

  "Come out of your grove and see this horde. You talk of taking it into Shathan. Of peace with it… as we found with the remnant of the sirrindim. Come and look on this thing."

  "One more dangerous to us," said the elder, "is already here." And Gate-force flared, making the air taut as a drawn string. It shimmered about the elder.

  And it grew. One and another of the arrha began to bring forth that power, until the arrhendim flinched back against the wall, and the whole dome sang with it.

  "Liyo," Vanye murmured, and whipped his sword from its sheath, for two of the arrha barred the doorway, and the air between shimmered with the barrier they formed.

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  "Cease!" Morgaine shouted.

  The elder stamped the heel of his staff on the floor, a sound almost drowned in the taut air; his half-blind eyes were set rigidly. "Six of us have invoked the power. There are thirty-two. Surrender that which you bear."

  "Liyo"

  Morgaine slipped Changeling's ring and dropped the sword to her hip.

  Vanye looked about him, at the elders, at the frightened arrhendim… and Roh, whose face was pale, but whose hands stayed from his weapons.

  "Two more," said the elder. The singing in the air grew louder, numbing hearing, and Morgaine lifted her hand.

  "You know what the result will be," she cried.

  "We are willing to die, all of us. The passage we open here may be wide enough to work ruin on the enemies of Shathan as well. But you who do not love this land… may not be willing to become part of that. One by one we shall add to the force. We do not know how many of us will be needed before the passage is complete, but we shall discover it. You cannot leave.

  You can try your other weapons. If you do, we will answer you with all we have. Or you can draw that sword and complete the passage beyond any doubt: its force with ours is sufficient beyond any argument. It will drink us all up, and more besides. But surrender that weapon and we shall deal well with you. Our word is good. You have nothing to fear from us."

  Gate-force keened in the air. Another joined it.

  "Liyo," Vanye said. Very small his voice sounded in that power. "Your other weapon—"

  She said nothing. He dared not look at what was happening before her, but kept his eyes to the arrhendim, who were at her back and armed; and Roh, Lellin and Sezar were apart from the others, fear in their faces, but they stood with arms folded and had never moved.

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  "My lords!" Morgaine exclaimed suddenly. "My lord arrha! We are gaining nothing by this. Only your enemies gain."

  "We have made our choice," said Merir.

  "You sat here— sat here until I should become desperate enough to try to come stir you out of it. A trap of your working, lord Merir? It is a well-devised one."

  "We are utterly willing," said Merir, "to perish. We are old. There are others. But there is no need of it, unless you value power more than your own life. If we add many more jewels to the web, lady Morgaine, it will be accomplished. You sense that. So do I." He held up his hand, with the jewel-case upon it. "Here is another mote of that power you hold. Perhaps this will complete it. It is that near. Shall I add it to the others?"

  "Enough! Enough. I see that you are capable of doing it. No more."

  "Surrender the sword."

  She unhooked it and grounded it point-down before her. "My lords of the arrha! Lord Merir is right… that is an evil thing. And there is only one of it, and that itself is a great evil, and subtle. You hold your power divided into many hands; whoever takes this, that one will be more powerful than all the others. Which? Who of you seeks it?"

  None answered.

  "You have never seen a Gate opened," Morgaine said. "You have never summoned that power entire, counting that passage dangerous. You are right Shall I show you? Damp that which you hold: I shall show you my meaning. Let me show you why Nehmin must cease to exist. You value reason, my lords; then listen to me. I have no terms. I come not to possess Nehmin by the threat of destroying it. I come to destroy it, whether or not the enemy is stopped. I do not want any power over you."

  "You are mad," said the elder.

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  "Let me show you. Damp the jewels. If I do not convince you, the unveiling of only a few of them while Changeling is unsheathed will be sufficient for your purposes… and mine. You do not well reckon… that I also am willing to die for what I do."

  The elder stepped back, bewilderment in his look. Merir made a helpless gesture. "She says well," Merir said, "We can always die."

  The force ebbed, more suddenly than it had grown, jewel after jewel winking into cover. And when it was utterly gone, Morgaine eased Changeling forth, crystal as the jewels, which were only motes that human flesh itself could obscure unharmed. Opal fire flowed along Changeling's runes, and suffused the blade, and darkness flared at the tip of it, where the wind began. Someone cried out. Its light bathed all their faces. She moved it, and the wind grew stronger, whipping at the torches, tugging at hair and robes and howling within the dome. Vanye stepped back from her side, not even aware that he moved until he found himself near Lellin.

  "Here is the passage you would form!" Morgaine shouted over the roar of the wind. "Here it is open before you. Look into it. Have you courage now to add your jewels to that? A few of them would suffice, and this whole dome will be elsewhere, with us in it. The shock of air will level all the trees hereabouts, and perhaps, as you say, take a good part of the enemy with us. Or more than that, if the force leaks through to this side of here and now. This is the power that your fathers' fathers' fathers trifled with.

  You do well to avoid it. But what will your children do? What, when someday someone less wise than yourselves takes it up again? What, if I surrender the sword to you, and someday one of your folk draws it? On it is written the knowledge of the Gates… and it cannot be destroyed, save by one who will carry it unsheathed within a Gate, into the Fires. Who of you wants to go in my place? For any man who loves this world, for any man who holds this weapon and has anything of virtue left in him— there is only one choice in the end— and that is to take it out of this world, forever. Is not a calamity written in your legends? The same calamity fell everywhere that such power has been… and it will come again, and again.

  That power must have an end. Does one of you want the sword? Does one of you want to carry it under those conditions?"

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  She held it aloft, and the void gaped and howled. Roh was at her back; Vanye saw him, never took his eyes entirely from him. Roh's face was rigid, his eyes reflecting that opal light.

  And suddenly Roh moved, fled, thrusting aside Sezar and Lellin, rushed past the arrha guards… the two of them too dazed to react. Vanye realized his sword was still in his hand. He looked on the others, on faces pale and drawn… turned and saw Morgaine. Her arm trembled from that force which numbed body and soul. Sweat stood on her face.

  "You must seal it off," she said. "Let me take this out of your world and seal the passage forever after me. Your other choice is not one that Shathan can survive. This— this— does not love living things."

  "Put i
t away," Merir said hoarsely. "Put it away, now."

  "Have you seen enough? I always questioned the wisdom that made this thing. I know the evil of it. Its maker knew. And perhaps that is its only virtue: that it is shaped as what it is… it is something that you can see and know exactly as it is. There is no ambiguity here, no yes and no. This thing ought not to exist. Those delicate jewels of yours… are nothing other than this. Their beauty deludes you. Their usefulness deludes you.

  Someday someone will gather them together and you will know that they were all aspects of this. Look. Look at it!"

  She swung it in a great arc, faster and faster, and the wind grew until it pulled at them, until the light blazed white, until the void widened and there seemed little air in the room. Cold numbed the skin, and the arrha held to their chairs, those standing staggered to the walls as if their own weight could not anchor them.

  "Stop it!" the elder cried.

  She did so, and returned it to sheath. The winds stopped; the howling died; the dark void and the blazing light went together, leaving the dome darkened, the light of the torches sucked out, only a shaft of daylight reaching them from the door. She grounded the sword, sheathed, before her.

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