by Jake Yaniak
Ghastin laughed. 'You and I, master Cheru, will have our day, but for now all I require is the blood of this mortal child. For Pelas has deceived me, and I am not bound to him by any covenant or treaty.'
'But you are bound by this,' Cheru answered, holding aloft his mighty blade.
'Fair enough,' Ghastin answered, 'I have no desire to cross fangs with such deadly blades, bane of Amro.'
With that Cheru grew impatient, 'Tell me, bone-jawer, why I ought not smite you to hell this instant?'
'Because it would take you more than an instant,' Ghastin laughed. 'You see, my back is not turned, as was he of old whose death brought you such fame!'
Cheru swung his blade down in a flash, but the wolf darted aside. Ghastin laughed and stepped back into the shadows. From there his voice came out again, cool and cruel, 'Lord Cheru,' he said, 'you have before you three souls. Let me have but two of them, and I will, for this hour spare the younger Galvahirne. I have at my command many beasts.' With those words many howls rang out in the night. 'More than enough to take all from your ghostly grip. For against these you have only a little power, for they are not gods as we.'
Cheru was silent for a while, but at least he said, 'So be it,' and returning to Daryas' side he spoke no more.
When at last the brothers departed, Daryas southward and Dynamis carrying the fallen queen, a dark shape slipped from tree to tree, following the trail of the elder brother.
Startled and afraid, Mityai remained in the woods for a long time, fearing lest some other devil or god should discover her. But when several hours had passed she darted off toward the south into lands she knew not, following the trail of Daryas toward his fate.
Escape
When Mityai arrived at the Nunnery of Agonistes she saw Cheru standing in the woods watching Daryas enter the courtyard. He seemed dazed, if such a thing is possible for spirits. Confused, she risked a few words, 'What is the meaning of this?' she asked him in her soft voice. 'Why goes the son of Biron alone into this strange place?'
'There is a power here,' Cheru said weakly, not seeming to recognize her, 'there is a dark presence - one that long ago I felt and feared...' The mighty god seemed stripped of sense and courage altogether, staring blankly toward the east. It was no use speaking to him any further, nor did she wish to draw any more attention to herself, lest word should come to Lord Pelas that she yet haunted the ways of young Daryas.
She took to the stone path and followed Daryas into the Nunnery. Immediately a terror seized her heart and the world seemed to turn into blood and darkness. A shrill voice echoed in her ears, 'Begone, child, I have no patience for thee,' it said. 'Of the Twins I have no fear, nor of the other meddlesome gods. Come see me and die the death of hell, or be wise and leave what is mine alone.'
This is the voice that left Cheru in the state in which she had found him, and for a moment she too stopped and stepped away. But after a while the darkness seemed suddenly to lessen and the voice departed. Without hesitation or consideration she darted into the courtyard, passed the loitering Virgins and entered into the northeastern tower.
She came to the room of the princess just as she attacked Daryas. Leonara pushed against him until she had pressed him against the wall. He struggled to protect himself, desperately trying not to harm her as he held her hands away from his neck. The princess lifted her arm to strike Daryas, but her blow never fell. In that moment it came into the mind of Mityai to do that which was always forbidden to the servants of Pelas - that which had damned thousands of souls before and, she thought, would bring about the damnation of her own soul. But she could not bear to watch the young man over whom she had so long kept vigil suffer any more harm. She leapt into the the tense and contorted body of the princess. In a flash, the princess' arms grew soft again and she relented her assault and her cursing. Rather than striking Daryas, her hand came down and rested softly upon his cheek. Mityai at last looked upon her charge with eyes of flesh and blood. Every sensation of mortal concern rushed into her mind, filling her with feelings and passions that had not had power over her for many thousands of years. In that moment she felt the rough cheek of the Galvahirne with her soft hand. Once more stunned, Daryas at last let go of her wrists. Mityai put her fingers through his dark hair, a smile passed over Leonara's face. She leaned forward and kissed him deeply. She felt his hand upon her shoulders as his grip changed slowly from restraint to embrace. He put his hand upon her face and Mityai felt his fingers upon her cheek as though she was once again one of the mortals. For a few moments she stood there in his arms, wishing it could last an eternity. Daryas looked into her eyes, and a feeling of terror clutched her. This could not be her place, she realized. She did not want to haunt the bodies of the living, clinging to every sensation, passing from one to the next each time their lives expired. 'I am no goddess,' she said within herself, and resolved to abandon the body of flesh and take up her mantle of emptiness once again.
Her last sensation was that of sadness; a tear fell from her cheek, sliding down to her lip and falling to the floor. In that instant the mind of Leonara was revealed to her in its entirety, from her infancy up to that very moment. More tears came as Mityai wept for the princess of Amlaman. 'You must help me,' she told Daryas, speaking the heart of the princess. 'But you cannot help me as yet. You must return to me without any shadow of wickedness within you. Return to me, my love, and bring no evil thing with you. Then only can I be free of this madness. Return to me,' she said once more. She released her grip and passed from the body of Leonara, falling to the ground in sorrow and anguish at the suffering of these two mortal souls.
As she lay there the last hint of Leonara's tear dried, and the surface of the mirror became unclouded. The darkness returned to Leonara's eyes.
Daryas fled from the room with a heavy heart and a swirling head. Horns now blared in the distance, summoned by the sound of the Siren's scream. Even as he reached the bottom of the tower he encountered several of the Nunnery guards, each armed with spears. 'Halt!' they commanded, but he dashed past them, knocking two of them to the ground. In the courtyard he could see many guards pouring in through the southern entrances, among them went Lord Belran, captain of the guard, and Reonus the eunuch. Among their number still was Farachie, the servant of the old High Priest.
These rushed toward him with weapons drawn and torches held aloft. No more illusion hung upon Daryas' eyes; he saw death in every corner of that Nunnery. Several guards were coming across the slender bridge that he had used to cross the Meretris. He met them at the end and kicked them into one another and into the cold waters of the stream. He rushed to the west, dodging a few arrows and then charging through the guards at the door, knocking them down with a blow from his fists. As he fought his way out, he proved himself in every way a son of Galvahir, bold in strategy, powerful in motion, unstoppable in flight. Only the swift legs of Farachie could overtake him.
With drawn sword, Farachie confronted Daryas just to the northwest of the Nunnery. 'None shall treat so lightly with the princess of Amlaman and escape alive!' he shouted in anger.
'Do not waylay, me,' Daryas said, 'For I have not the heart to show you mercy.'
'Nevertheless,' Farachie said brandishing his blade. Daryas rushed at him and grabbed his sword from his hand, casting him to the ground.
'Be it known,' Daryas said with great anger, 'that I harmed not the Siren.' He cast Farachie's sword into the ground at his feet and darted away. Farachie struggled to his feet and looked out to the west. He saw Daryas leap astride Novai and charge away like a bolt of lightning into the west.
The reason the guards were not present when the young Galvahirne arrived is because they had all been summoned to the Temple by the new King of Amlaman. They were charged with the task of bringing Princess Leonara before him without delay. For just prior to this, King Volthamir had begun his descent into the Valley. But he was halted after he had taken no more than ten steps northward. A voice thundered from afar, forbidding him, 'Son
of darkness, come not nigh, lest you wish to be consumed. For I am Evna, and against me none shall prevail. This girl I have claimed for myself; never again shall you or any other brutish man make her suffer.'
Volthamir tried to press on northward despite this warning, but Agonistes refused to allow him, taking control of his thoughts, saying, 'Fool, do you not know when it is a god that speaks to you?'
'I do not fear the gods,' Volthamir said angrily, 'I do not fear to go down into the Valley.'
Nevertheless, Agonistes would not relent and his hold on Voltahimr's mind prevailed. Volthamir summoned the guards to his side and ordered them to bring the princess to him, since he could not go down into the Valley himself - of course, he did not tell them this.
His men, much to their dismay, soon discovered that they also had no power over the strange goddess. They came down in a group of ten, armed with their weapons and with the seal of the king in their hands, saying, 'Open, Leonara thasa Amlaman, in the name of the king!' When she answered not they hurried back to tell Volthamir.
'Fools!' he shouted at them, 'I told you to bring her, not invite her. When the high priest summons, I am told, every idle deed is set aside. How much more, then, should she come when bidden by the king?'
Their second attempt proved no better and they returned to the king as before.
These men were set in bonds and another group of men were sent, this time along with Reonus, who was charged to give a full account to the king upon their return. He explained the matter thus: 'My king, we knocked upon the door of Leonara, urging her to obey your commands. But she opened the door and laughed as she told us, 'You are nothing but shadows, and shadows cannot bring or summon, carry or coerce.'
'And you abandoned your task because of this?' the king thundered.
'I must confess, my King,' Reonos said bowing low, 'that it seemed more reasonable when she stood before us.'
Finally Belran, captain of the guard was commanded to bring the Princess to the temple himself. But again she refused, sending Belran, the mighty warrior, back empty handed and with this message, 'To whom does the sun bow down in worship? Come to me without shadow, thyself, oh mighty king, and I will go to you. But what is there within you but shadow? And for what is shadow but to frighten the weak?'
Evna now ruled the Nunnery of Agonistes, and by no manner of threats or punishments could Volthamir get the princess to be brought to him. To add to his frustration, it was at this very instant that her terrible screams were heard. He rushed into the wooded valley, but was forced back by the power of Evna, forced to watch his soldiers and guards charge down in his stead. He cursed Agonistes, the first of many such cursings.
By some subtle but inconquerable power the princess remained unharmed and untroubled by the King of Amlaman, who had already gone through so much toil out of his great desire for her. 'I will have her,' he swore, 'whatever gods beset me.' Then, as though he could see the future, he added, 'But if not, then I shall see the blood of the one that mocks me.'
The Doom of Mityai
The goddess Evna, who had taken dominion of the valley of the virgins and within the mind of the princess alike, found Mityai in the same state in which she lay upon leaving the body of Leonara; distressed and broken-hearted. Without a word the mighty goddess took her by the back of the neck and, lifting her high off the ground, she broke the ghostly bones of her neck and, with a laugh, cast her from the Nunnery, her shattered body swirling through the stones of the tower and through the whirling wind outside, coming to rest in the forest. There her broken body lay, and in anguish of soul she could do nothing but mourn, though no tears came from her eyes. When she released the body of the princess, all such abilities were surrendered.
In this state she was soon discovered by the spirit Cheru, who had long ago been sent to bring her back to the judgment of Pelas. Looking upon her with pitiless eyes, the mighty slayer of Amro pierced her through the stomach with his mighty spear and, taking the word of Pelas more literally than it was meant, he dragged her more than three hundred leagues to the Temple of Pelas atop the hill of Dadron, to be judged by the god of Falsis.
No words did Pelas speak, he gave her one look and then, shaking his head with disgust, took her broken throat and cast her with all his might deep into the earth, where she vanished from sight, memory and hope. She fell league after league into the darkness, until at last she burst through the lifeless rock into the lake of flame, even that lake from whose fires all the volcanos and fiery cracks of the earth are fed. There she lay, in torment of soul, helpless and alone. For no other spirit, save for Aonistes himself, had ever been thrust so deep into hell as was she. For the wrath of Pelas was great and his heart was turned against her. Her eyes gazed upon the fire in that place and she wished in her heart that it could consume her and end her suffering. But, as it was, there would be no end to her immortal sorrows.
Chapter IV:
The Monster Rages In Falsis
The Word of Marin
On the very same day that Cheft Faros the Fool led his army against the Goblins of Coronan in the Corhen flats, which is to say, roughly a year and a half before Volthamir was crowned king, the Monster of Vestron stepped off a boat onto Welderan soil. In his right arm he carried his mighty spear, which he named Golem-bane. In his left arm towered the mighty shield Admunth, which no ordinary man could carry. Beneath his clothes he concealed that fell blade, Skatos Ereg. At his side there stood many Knights of Marin with their long hair, slender shields and light spears.
When at first Natham had attempted to cross the Kollun sea he found that no ship would bear him. Even those unsavory characters who always seem to haunt the ports and bays would have nothing to do with him. It seemed to them that to sail with such a creature would be an omen of evil. Moreover, the army of Marin had such a presence in the region that no boats could sail without their express permission. Nonetheless, he did not need to search for passage long. Ere a week had passed a messenger arrived from Marin Fortress bidding her captains to, by all means, carry the monster to Weldera. The ship, however, brought him to Kollun, where he was delayed for several months by every possible excuse while Marin completed its preparations for war. He would have made his way to Weldera on his own, but the men of Kollun would not sail to Weldera for fear of being dragged into the conflict.
In due course, he was joined on the island by Lord Ollitov himself, and several ladies of Marin, including the Lady Nerria, whose fame in battle was great. These, presenting him with a great quantity of evidence, persuaded him that the Lady Lyris had been spirited away from Marin against the wishes and consent of the Queen. Among the articles they put before him was a document, sealed by Queen Marin herself, stating outright that the Marshall Lyris had been taken from Marin Fortress by force and not by the permission of the Queen. Such a document, given what is now known concerning the Welderan War and Marin's role therein, is a full legal admission that the Queen fabricated at least this one charge against Dadron. For it was the law of Marin from its foundation that no war be waged without a full explication of the grounds thereof. I include this in my account because even now there are learned men in Marin who have denied that such a document was ever presented to the Monster. But let my reader judge whether or not Natham would have marched with the army of Marin without such an assurance.
Lord Ollitov informed Natham that a man of Dadron named Chieftain Olver of Galvaland had abducted Lyris, stealing her away from Marin during the night. This, among many other crimes, was the ground upon which Marin prepared her forces for an invasion of Weldera.
Lady Nerria said to him, 'The walls of that city are equalled in height only by the pride of its masters, who have always taken liberally from the other people of Tel Arie. But take heart, such deeds shall not go unpunished forever.'
Having thoroughly convinced him of their sincerity, and having assured him that Dadron's defenses were, save for the fire of Mount Fhuhar itself, greater than the fortifications of Harz, they convinced
him to march against Dadron along with those soldiers who had fought under Lyris' command against the dwarf stronghold of Thlux.
Natham's time on that island was not unproductive, however, as it awakened in him a gift that had long been hidden and which will, perhaps in later ages, prove to be of greater worth than any of his military victories (I refer here to the commentaries he made upon the democracy of Kollun and upon the various sorts of governments he had hitherto seen or encountered). The inspiration for this literary labor was undoubtedly due to the reinstitution of Lord Jerol, who had been Headmaster of Kollun for the past forty years - despite the fact that it was widely believed that he had pilfered unimaginable quantities of gold from the treasury.
Every hour he spent in Kollun he spent with pen in hand, writing page after page in elegant prose. It was all he could do to pass the time and also attempt to make sense of all that he had seen since he first became involved with the leaders of the Merkata. It is, in fact, from Natham's own accounts that most of what is known of the Merkata has been recorded. Fhuhar saw to it that nothing else would survive of that ancient and ill-fated people.
Whately had taught Natham nearly everything he knew, whether it was the myths of Kharku in the deep south of the world, or the legends of the Aguians, who live in mighty cities under the crashing ocean waves, or the tales and histories of the Astral lords who rule upon the stars of heaven. He taught him the names and histories of all the world's cities and peoples, until Natham himself, next to Whately, was a scholar in his own right. There was, lamentably, one notable exception: He told the monster comparatively little of the land of his own birth, Weldera. His reasons for this were bound to his oath, and to the fear that somehow the knowledge of the place would draw them to an evil fate. But it was in precisely the place that Whately had neglected to instruct his charge that the Quendom of Marin and its strategists sought to deceive him. And deceive him they did. He knew nothing of the lords, titles and lands of Falsis, and could not see that they were leading him astray. He knew not that the lords of Noras were called Cheftans and that they did not dwell in the city of Dadron. He knew not who ruled over it, nor did he know the lineage of Olver and of the Galvahirne and their forest home, which lay many leagues from Dadron's gates. He was alone and without honest counsel for all of this time; he had no means to uncover the truth of this treacherous deception. For Duri had departed from his side, passing into the east at the same time Mount Fhuhar made an end of the Merkata. He halted as he walked and said, somberly, 'A great tremor has passed through the earth; and I feel as if my heart has been severed in two. I must return to the east, to see with my own eyes what has befallen the land of Vestron.'
