The Lady's Man

by Greg Curtis

  “How to shape his magic properly of course. How to focus his mind. How to stretch the limits of what he could call upon. What do you think we taught him wizard?”

  But even as he threw the question at Myral like a weapon, Yorik knew the sylph was hiding something. Something bad. He could see it in his face, hear it in his voice.

  “I think you taught him necromancy. Demonancy. Poisons. The dark arts.” Myral's voice was flat, full of certainty and accusation.

  The sylph didn't answer Myral. But his silence was a confession as far as Yorik could tell. He didn't answer, purely because he didn't want to admit his guilt. But Myral wasn't going to allow him to get away with that.

  “Answer me sylph.”

  “Necromancy yes. Poisons and dark thoughts yes. He had a natural gift for these things. But no more. And what of it wizard? It is just magic.”

  He stared the wizard in the eye but his defiance was a bluff. He knew his people had done wrong. The proof was busy destroying the world around them.

  “What of it sylph? You know you cannot separate the magic from the soul. You taught dark magic to a dark soul and he used it. Magic that could only be used for ill taught to one who only intended ill. He destroyed my companion's family with that magic. Ghost vipers, poisons, madness. He destroyed many others. All thanks to you. And now when he is dead, the thane that came from him is the first to use necromancy. These armies of the undead plaguing the lands are all Mayfall. They were never of the Dark One as so many believed. And they are all because of you and what you taught to an evil wizard. How many more mistakes have your people been making sylph?”

  “Mistakes? We don't make mistakes!” The sylph all but yelled his defiance at him. But yelling could not hide the truth.

  “Then tell me of the Iron Hand.”

  “What of them?” But he was obviously lying, hiding the truth in his question. The bluster had suddenly vanished and there was a hint of alarm in his voice.

  “You've been training them. Why?”

  “Coin. Resources. The normal things one receives in return.”

  “Power.”

  It wasn't Myral who said it though he was surely thinking it. It wasn't even Yorik who said it though his thoughts were running along the same lines. The sylph was guilty and he didn't need to be of the Order of Lyrin the Just to know it. But for the moment it was the Lady speaking through him. She'd had enough of simply observing he gathered.

  “You sought an army. Conquest. Tell me I am wrong Generan.”

  But the sylph couldn't. He tried, and he spluttered out some pitiful excuses about how it had nothing to do with conquest. That they just wanted a few champions here and there to do their bidding. The Lady wasn't going to accept that.

  “So when you say you sent out hunters, you mean you sent out the Iron Hand.”

  “Yes. What of it? Who we send is our business.”

  “What of it? What it is of is destruction. Now we know why this thane has been targeting the enemies he has. In life he was hunted by the Iron Hand. In death he is hunting them in turn. The chapters of the Iron Hand in Doverion, Ender's Fall and Armitage have all been destroyed. And while their loss is nothing to regret, each time their destruction has resulted in terrible costs to the cities around them. Hundreds of thousands of innocents are dead because of it. Millions are homeless as the cities burn.”

  “And every few days it is another chapter and another city. You have unleashed a murderous fury upon an innocent and unready people.”

  It was fortunate that the Lady was controlling him. Because just then Yorik was reeling, almost ready to fall down. Ender's Fall had been attacked? He hadn't heard. But how would he have been told when he had been on the trail? Only the Lady could have told him and she had been silent for the entire journey. He guessed she had not wanted to burden him with the knowledge. But what had become of his friends? His neighbours?

  First it had been his family. Then it was his Order. Now it was his friends, his wider family and his home as well. It was as if the thane was deliberately targeting him. Destroying every part of his life. There would be nothing left by the time he was finished. Nothing but death. Whether this was his fault or not, it was a terrible anguish. Yet he had to withstand it. He was a paladin. He had to stand.

  “We had heard.”

  “I'm sure you had. Just as I'm sure you have guessed where he will strike next after he has finished with your armies. Despite your self serving words you know there is no if he will come for you. There is only when. Now answer my friends' questions. Tell them what they need to know to save your own miserable hides.”

  With those words and the way the sylph turned away unable to face her, Yorik understood so much about Generan. Why he had come to them early, before they had fully entered the Land of The Sky. And maybe why he was being so difficult. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be confessing. But he was frightened. In time the thane would come for them. And they already knew what the last thane had done to their realm eight hundred years before. A disaster they still hadn't recovered from. A second would be even more terrible. The sylph might not survive. And they didn't know if they could stop him.

  Despite it being the last thing he wanted to do – for he really just wanted to scream his pain and fear and rage to the gods themselves – Yorik knew what he had to do. What he had to ask.

  “So how do we fight this thane?”

  It was strange how the words came so easily to him. Regardless of his fear and pain, his sense of failure and guilt, he was a paladin. Trained always to think like a warrior. And whether or not he had created this nightmare by killing Mayfall, or if things could have gone so much better for them all if only the sylph had shared their knowledge of the wizard, defeating him was the only thing that mattered in the end. Defeating him before he destroyed everything.

  “Fight? You cannot fight a thane child. No more than you can fight a volcano. They are simply a part of the world.”

  The sylph had turned back to him and begun speaking to him as if he were a child, but Yorik didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that Mayfall was stopped. Even if he was somehow already dead. And the sylph didn't seem to think that was possible. Save that if he didn't think they could do something he wouldn't have come to them early.

  “Then the world will be destroyed. And you with it.”

  Which didn't make sense when the sylph had come to them early. He surely hadn't done that just to tell them there was no hope? He had hope surely.

  “No.” The sylph at least seemed to be certain of that. “Not the world.”

  “Thanes arise from time to time. And they go away. A few months, a few years and they are gone. The world is unchanged by them. It carries on. As bad as he is, this thane will pass in time as have all the others before him.”

  He seemed to have a calm, almost fatalistic attitude towards them. As if he had already accepted his death, assuming he thought he was going to die. And he did have to know he was in danger. Unless he had a plan to escape?

  “But how many innocents will die before then? How many towns and cities will be destroyed? How many children will be left alone in the dark and fear? How many forests will be torn from the ground? Mayfall is crushing all before him. Murdering thousands, hundreds of thousands in an endless orgy of destruction. The lands are burning. The dead walk everywhere. Death is upon us all.”

  “And we will show you how to fight this Mayfall. How to destroy him.”

  “But you said –.”

  Yorik stopped because he didn't know quite what to say. The sylph was openly contradicting himself. One moment they couldn't fight him, the next they not only could, but they could destroy him as well. The winged man could actually be crazed.

  “I said you could not fight the thane. But the thane is not your enemy. The soul of the one called Mayfall is. And that can be destroyed.”

  “Soul? Then he is alive!”

  “No. That is why he can be defeated. The dark wizard is dea
d. Mayfall is gone. With the blessing of the gods he now rots for eternity in a demon filled underworld. But a part of him, that part which was his thoughts and feelings – a little of his memories – continues.”

  Yorik could have asked him to explain but instead he just stood there staring at him and waited. He was sure the sylph knew the thoughts that were running through his head. It was just a matter of waiting until he finally continued.

  “The thane is a storm that has consumed the dark wizard. And like all storms it is powerful and yet aimless. Dangerous but only accidentally. But unlike any other storm this one is alive in a strange way. It has no great will, no knowledge of self. No more than a worm does. But when it consumes a man it absorbs a little of the will of the man it consumes. And when it consumed Mayfall it absorbed a little of his soul. More than normal because he had resisted it for so long.”

  “Now the storm truly believes it is the traitorous wizard. Mayfall's anger has become its anger. His hatred has become its hatred. His desire to strike out at those who harmed him has become its desire.”

  “It does not know that Mayfall is dead. That it is not him. It will not accept that knowledge. It cannot hear it because Mayfall was so terrified of being consumed by it before the end, and that fear is part of the thane. So the thane does that which Mayfall would have done were he still alive. But in the end it is only a memory, the trace of the man's will that the thane consumed. What you see as Mayfall is actually a part of the thane as a dream is a part of you. It needs to wake up.”

  “Name it as dead however, show it that the one called Mayfall is no longer, and it will no longer have the will to do anything. It will no longer be anything. And the thane will return to its true self, the worldly aspect of the Nameless. Still dangerous but directionless.”

  “This is how thanes have been fought in the past. It is the only way. But it has not always been successful. When you dream as a man you are still a man, and somewhere deep within you you know that for truth. But when the thane dreams it is Mayfall there is no other knowledge within it. No competing voice. It truly believes it is him. You will have to become that other voice.”

  Maybe that made sense, Yorik wasn't completely sure. It sounded like the confused memories of daydreams. But when he turned to see if his companion accepted the sylph's words the wizard nodded. Myral seemed to agree with his words, and Yorik trusted his judgement in these matters. After all, he was the only one of them who seemed to have any idea at all of what was happening. So Yorik carried on his questioning hoping that the wizard would explain to him what he didn't understand. For the moment he was a warrior, and warriors knew one thing above all else. Battle.

  “And how do I do that? Especially when I'm completely helpless against him.”

  “You speak of two different problems. The first I cannot tell you save that you were there when the wizard died. You saw him depart the world and that is the truth the thane has to hear. The second though is an easier matter. You must take the power and grace of your Lady unto yourself before you next face the thane. All that you can hold within yourself.”

  “Even with it you will be weak against him, but not helpless. It may be enough. Enough to give you the time you need to make him face the truth.”

  “He knows the truth. He spoke of his death when last we met. He laughed.”

  Yorik had to tell the winged man that. The sylph was making it sound as if it would be all so easy. It wouldn't be. It probably wouldn't even be possible.

  “Of course he laughed. Because he believes he yet lives. He believes he is Mayfall. Therefore death, even his death does not scare him. He believes he has survived death. That he will continue to survive death.”

  “As for you druid,” The sylph turned back to face Myral, “– your power comes directly from the world without the intercession of another between you. The thane cannot take that connection from you. But his power comes from the Nameless. It will always be stronger than yours. There is no way a wizard can fight a thane. Not directly. Do not imagine it to be otherwise. If you fight him you will die. And you were not witness to the dark wizard's end so you cannot convince the thane that you saw Mayfall die. Only one was there at the end; Yorik, and so like it or not this stripling has to be our hope.”

  “How does this thing sever bonds?” Yorik ignored the comment about him, and asked what mattered. Because he knew that if his bond could be maintained in the dead wizard's presence, he would be far stronger. That would surely be the key to defeating him. The Lady could defeat anyone.

  “He is a thane. He is part of the Nameless. He consumes. He consumes will among other things, and the bond between servant and master is always one of will. It cannot withstand his presence. With true wizards there is no bond. There is a connection but it is not one of will. It is one only of knowledge. The will resides within the wizard.”

  “Then I must remain powerless against him?”

  “Against him? Yes of course. Everyone is defenceless against a thane. Your mistress herself would be powerless against the Nameless. Elemental or not it would consume her as it would consume you. The gods would fare no better. The Nameless is an endless void and it can never be filled. Not by anything short of everything, and perhaps not even by that. But whatever you can hold within yourself you can use to aid yourself in the battle. As long as you don't use it to strike at the thane.”

  “And that is as much as I can tell you. I cannot aid you in the fight. All my people together could not aid you. The thane cannot be fought let alone defeated. And we must prepare for his arrival since your chances of victory are small.”

  “And how -?”

  “By scattering, running and hiding. It is the only protection there is.”

  “Then why -?”

  “Because you have a chance.” The sylph cut him off for a second time. “It is a small chance but it is there. And if we have any hope to save our realm we must take every chance we can.”

  The sylph became quiet and stared off into the distance. Waiting in case there was anything more that needed to be said, but not expecting there to be.

  He was probably right Yorik realised. They had got as much as they were going to get from the sylph. He had told them what he could. It wasn't a lot of use but in the end he didn't know any more.

  Yorik looked across to Myral and the wizard looked back at him, each wondering if the other had anything else to ask. And each knew that they didn't. Which left them with only one thing to do. If there was only one defence, running and hiding and scattering like leaves in a wind, then that was what had to be done. By everyone.

  “Generan you will send messages to every city you can that houses a chapter of the Iron Hand, warning them that Mayfall will strike at them. To the chapters and to the rulers. The Order may be doomed, but the people of the cities don't have to be. They have to know how to save themselves. You will save as many as you can.”

  The sylph nodded slightly. What he could do Yorik didn't know but at least they might finally try to do something instead of simply hiding and waiting. And maybe the Lady herself could do something. Since she knew of what had happened in the cities there were obviously still some in them that spoke to her. She could speak to them.

  “We should go.” Myral announced it as if it was simply a fact, nothing more. Yorik knew why. They had learned what they could and they did have to travel. But they weren't about to take their leave of the sylph. That would have been polite and the wizard didn't feel he deserved such politeness. Not for what he had done. Or his people had done. They just turned and headed for their horses.

  “Wait!” The sylph called after them before they had taken more than a couple of steps. “There is one thing more that I can help you with.”

  They turned back to find him still standing there, but with the reins to two magnificent white horses in his hands. Horses that Yorik was certain hadn't been there moments before. Each of them stood at least seventeen hands and each of them was rippling with the muscling of
the finest thoroughbreds. But more than that, each of them sported a glowing patch of white on its nose. A patch that was whiter than white. In the same place where a unicorn would have its horn. And that told them what they were.

  Acornia, half breeds of unicorns and horses. The offspring of the matings that sometimes happened in the land of The Sky. They had no horns and none of the magic that their unicorn sires had. But they were always white and powerful, and gifted with great speed and stamina. They were also the symbol of the land of The Sky and the sylph, and a beast that they jealously guarded. None other than a sylph could ride an acornia. None other was worthy in their eyes.

  “Acornia from our herds. You may borrow them so that they can carry you swiftly back to your people.”

  “No!” The sylph shouldn't have said it. Yorik was in no mood for half gifts disguised as generosity and so his words instantly made him angry. “They are gifts as will be the other hundred you will bring to the elves of Hammeral and each of the other cities Mayfall has destroyed. They are barely the beginnings of the restitution you and your people will make for what you have done. A symbol of your apology.”