Darkfall

by Isobelle Carmody

  ‘I have found most myrmidons unable to appreciate more than a good cirul, but it seems, Hella, that this one recognises greatness, for all she is as filthy as a beggar from the streets of Iridom,’ a tremulous voice crackled.

  Glynn noticed only then that the bed was occupied by a frail, wizened woman, so wasted her body barely lifted the flat quilts piled on top of her. Her slanted eyes were mere slits with a glitter of black between them.

  ‘Greetings, Nema, may we approach?’ Hella asked respectfully.

  ‘Of course. These ridiculous formalities my son insists upon surrounding me with are not of my choosing. Any more than I desire this ostentatious and tasteless display of wealth. What need has an old woman of a personal guard of legionnaires? But Jurass feels his dignity requires it. Haris is surly at having to wait on me, and I do not blame him.’

  Glynn resisted the urge to say she seemed to have managed to find a use for her storm-troopers. Nema gave a sour look to the woman who had answered the door. ‘I do not need you here now, Scala. You may rush off and report to my son that I have visitors.’

  ‘Lady, I would never …’ the woman began.

  Nema made a rude sound and waved a skeletal hand impatiently. ‘Aye, you would. Make no lies for my benefit. If my body betrays me, my mind does not. Get out!’

  Scala obeyed hastily, slamming the door behind her.

  ‘Thank Shenavyre for small mercies!’ Nema snorted, then she fixed Hella with a severe look. ‘Of course if she were not so patently repulsive, I would not be able to rage at her and send her away. Now then, while we are alone and not being spied upon, tell me what that wastrel brother of yours thinks he is doing. He travels without informing anyone of his plans, brings back a myrmidon and is late for a wing ceremony.’

  ‘I am not …’ Glynn began.

  ‘Silence!’ Nema snapped. She looked back at Hella. ‘Well?’

  ‘Is it now law that wing leaders must account for their every crossing?’ Hella asked, unconsciously echoing Argon’s words from the Waverider.

  ‘If crossing is all Solen did, then he broke no law, except perhaps an unspoken law of legion courtesy that suggests he keep his wing brothers informed of his whereabouts, and an instruction that all members must be present for wing ceremonies. But it is an entirely different matter if what he was doing, when he travelled, directly contravened an order set by the chieftain of his sept.’

  Hella paled and looked frightened.

  ‘It is true then,’ Nema said flatly. ‘He took Flay to the Darkfall landing.’

  ‘Who told you …’ Hella began, but the old woman smiled pityingly at her.

  ‘When I heard of this escapade, I could scarcely credit it. I felt there must be some error. The Solen I knew would never risk his chieftain’s wrath in such a way.’ Her eyes rested briefly on Glynn before swooping back to Hella.

  ‘When he was a child and so brave and bonny, I truly thought Solen had escaped Ditar’s taint. Instead, from the very day your father killed himself on a drunken spree, Solen began to display his weaknesses. In one stroke, the son seemed to become the father. Oh, I wept at the waste of a man like Ditar, fallen into disgrace after he had been the very flower of manhood – handsome and bold with honour as sharp and bright as a new blade. But the son’s fall seemed a thousand times worse because it came before the boy was barely dry behind the ears.

  ‘Yet I had grown accustomed to Solen as a pretty face on a weak and cowardly soul. I had given up all hope that his mind and honour would ever grow to match his glorious ability to windwalk. His weaknesses for drink and gambling, his patent avoidance of responsibility and neglect of duty ached me, for they mocked what he could have been.’ The pain in her features gave way to a sudden blaze of anger. ‘And now suddenly this wild escapade which would seem to fly in the face of everything that we know of him. Why now and why this?’ She fixed Glynn with an interrogating stare. ‘Tell me that, girl. Why would such a man take Flay to Darkfall when it is forbidden by his chieftain? You returned with him so you must know his inner mind.’

  Glynn could hardly be said to know Solen’s inner mind, but while she agreed with much of Nema’s assessment of his character, it seemed to her that the picture presented focused on only one aspect of Solen. Almost everyone saw him as a wastrel. It struck her suddenly that people talked a lot about Solen’s bad behaviour, but she had actually seen little real display of it. He even represented himself as a weakling but, other than his drunkenness and womanising, his deeds did not bear out his infamy.

  ‘Solen rescued me from drowning and gave me refuge in his fell,’ she said at last.

  ‘A rescue and refuge? Can we speak of the same man?’ Nema looked almost astonished.

  ‘He said he rescued me on a whim, and then the shipmaster said he must give me refuge because of the ship code saying he was responsible for me.’

  ‘Mm,’ Nema grunted. ‘He had no choice but to offer you refuge. I did wonder when I heard about you, for you are not the type to whom he is ordinarily attracted.’

  Glynn thought rather bitterly of the pouting Zeyar.

  ‘A rescue on a whim is not so admirable,’ Nema continued thoughtfully. ‘But it is still a deed worthy of praise. As was Solen’s escort of Flay to the Darkfall landing. Both were selfless deeds, and the Solen I know is entirely self-centred.’

  ‘His taking Flay to the landing was not foolish,’ Hella said.

  ‘It was incredibly foolish,’ Nema reiterated. ‘I know about Flay and her soulweaving tendencies. Only my fool of a son would imagine a chieftain’s Decree could stop her becoming a soulweaver if she had the calling. I do not dispute her right to offer herself. I say only that it would have been better to let her languish indefinitely on Acantha than for Solen to risk taking her to the landing. If Solen has this in him, there are more important things to which he can give his daring. If it was daring.’

  ‘Solen said he took Flay to Darkfall because she insisted,’ Glynn explained.

  Nema smiled, showing pink gums innocent of teeth. The only audible sounds were the uneven wheezing of her breath and the swishing hiss of the cloth streamers. ‘He rescued you on a whim and he gave you refuge and escorted Flay to the landing reluctantly. Nonetheless, he could have chosen not to do these things. The Solen I thought I knew would have refused. Perhaps I have not seen him clearly. Certainly his character always seemed to contain odd anomalies; his steadfast and public loyalty to Darkfall not the least, though his behaviour does not do the misty isle much credit. He might have been killed for that loyalty but, ironically, his worthlessness diffused what confidence he might have bestowed on those who cleaved to Darkfall. The fact that he has been seen as a harmless fool has kept him safe. Until now.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Hella asked fearfully.

  Nema gave her a pitying look. ‘If Solen’s deeds gladden my heart because they are not the acts of a wastrel or a scoundrel, how do you suppose they will affect the enemies of Darkfall? His failure to attend the wing ceremony focused attention on him, which ensured that Jurass would learn what he had done.’

  ‘His delay could not be avoided …’ Glynn felt bound to put in.

  ‘You need not excuse Solen to me,’ Nema said. ‘I am not his enemy.’

  ‘What will happen to him?’ Hella asked. ‘Will he be thrown out of the legion?’

  ‘That is what Solen would judge the cost of exposure if he thought of it; demotion or suspension in the legion. It would be a harsh but acceptable judgment for such disobedience and could hardly bring him more shame than he has garnered already. He would have only to reapply again at the next legion intake to be restored to his former place. But Jurass does not want Darkfall sympathisers wearing Acanthan blue, particularly one whose birthright and abilities in the air would see him as a contender for the title of wing lord if he challenges for it. Solen has played right into the hands of my stupid, aspi-headed son by committing this particular disobedience. In one stroke he lifts his head and offers his neck to th
e executioner.’

  Hella said uncertainly, ‘I know Jurass bears a deep grudge against Darkfall but surely …’

  ‘Do not mince words with me, girl. Jurass has the temerity to hate half of Keltor for his father’s infidelity. He behaves like the deserted mate and jealous lover, leaving no role for me to play.’ She cackled with laughter, but there was no amusement in her eyes. ‘His hatred makes him a weak chieftain, but it does not make him evil. As a pawn of the Draaka he has become the pawn of evil.’

  ‘But you … you went on pilgrimage to the haven …’ Hella stammered.

  ‘So I did, but I am no convert.’ Nema gave a wheezing bark. ‘The Draaka is not the first to demand that the soulweavers disband. Nor is she unique in claiming the soulweavers control us with myths and fears for their own ends. But she is the first to make any real impression on the attitudes of the general populace. Little by little, she has amassed enough support to become a force to be reckoned with. I did not like the thought of her growing on Acantha like a boil, draining our energies, distilling and spreading her poisons. Especially not now when Darkfall’s image is besmirched by Tarsin’s antics. Still less do I like the way the Draaka has used my son’s grief and misguided anger against his father to further her purposes.’

  Glynn was reminded suddenly that this was the woman whose husband had gone off and left her for a soulweaver, yet, unlike her son, she seemed to bear Darkfall no grudge at all.

  Nema drew a deep breath and coughed weakly. ‘I went to the Draaka haven in the hope of learning her true purposes. I came away deeply disturbed. There were many draakira there; far more than I had expected, having seen her followers move about the races and cavesites only in pairs. They wear their habit and move about quietly, and one does not notice their faces changing. All of them are fanatically devoted to the Draaka, and obey her word absolutely. Chief among the draakira was a woman with the title of Prime. She is first among the draakira and runs the haven. There was also an enormous number of servitors from all septs, who seemed to have no desire but to clean slops and sweep. I was not permitted to speak with them nor to ask why they had come, and the followers seem to be under some sort of vow of silence for I never heard one speak in the entire time I was there. I could not say how many dwell there altogether, but at least as many as there are windwalkers in the legion. Enough to take control of Acantha, but I do not think that is the Draaka’s intention. What need would there be of it with Jurass and half of Acantha besotted and willing to give her anything she wants? No, the Draaka casts for bigger waterflyts.’

  ‘I thought she sought an alliance with the Iridomi chieftain,’ Hella murmured.

  ‘The obvious conclusion, given that Coralyn of Iridom also desires an end to Darkfall. In my opinion, the Draaka will match purposes with the Iridomi chieftain – for a time. But I suspect her purposes are ultimately other than Coralyn’s, because there will be no great gain for her in the alliance.’

  ‘She would gain the same power over all the septs as she has over Acantha …’ Glynn suggested.

  ‘I think she has shown very well that she can achieve that by her own efforts,’ Nema said. ‘No, there is something else she wants beyond that.’ The old woman’s face creased in a complex series of emotions and, in the end, she looked tired. ‘There was an immense number of rituals in the haven, some of which I was permitted to see – innocuous mummery – and some of which I was not allowed to witness. I assumed that all her talk of demons and the Void was no more than a way of weakening the mythological foundations of Darkfall in order to undermine its political power. I thought that, like Coralyn, she believed nothing and had merely created her cult to usurp Darkfall’s power. Having been to the haven, however, I am not so sure her desires or beliefs are so simple.’

  ‘I know she has supporters, Nema,’ Hella said, ‘but there are many Acanthans who do not believe her, yet who do not dispute her because of …’

  ‘My son’s prejudices,’ Nema said flatly. ‘I know that. But do you not understand that the silence of those who support Darkfall is yet another weapon in the Draaka’s favour? Silence is a thing that will grow rather than diminish for, in time, those who have been loyal will abandon their faith, believing they are alone. Then silence will spread like a plague. It allows evil to flourish on Acantha. How long before the infection spreads to all of Keltor?’

  ‘You cannot think the Draaka’s blasphemy will spread beyond Acantha.’

  ‘Will spread! It has already done so. From the time the Draaka’s first clever information chits were sent out from Acantha, detailing the so-called scholarly researches being conducted in her haven, she gathered supporters. The first chits were uncontroversial. Mere lists of those areas where Darkfall theology seemed ambiguous; read and circulated and pondered by the nobles and intelligentsia on all isles who love nothing more than to debate obscure points. Gradually the chits have become more critical of Darkfall. Now half of Keltor debates the Draaka’s questions over mugs of cirul.’

  ‘But what harm can there be in talk? It is not a knife, nor the teeth of a silfi.’

  ‘Have you not heard a thing I have said?’ Nema snapped. ‘The Draaka’s talk has created a fanatical following who agree with her distorted interpretations of the Legendsong. Talk has parleyed Acantha into the Draaka’s hands, and it is a short step from doing the same to Fomhika since that fool of a Poverin allowed himself to be flattered into permitting the Draaka’s followers to construct a haven on the green isle in the interests of theological freedom. Are you dolt enough to imagine the current turmoil on Fomhika is not the Draaka’s doing? And now there is talk of establishing a haven in the citadel itself. Coralyn must be ecstatic, but, mad as he is, Tarsin will not allow it since she questions his right to rule by questioning Darkfall’s right to choose him. It is the gall of the woman that frightens me. She should have been killed long ago but now a simple assassination would only turn her into a martyr.’ Nema pounded the blanket feebly. ‘What terrifies me most about the Draaka is her subtle and brilliant use of talk to spread her insidious propaganda. And what is to come? As I lie here now, the Draaka has scholars combing the myth scrolls she has gathered from all over Keltor. She is looking for proof that the Legendsong was deliberately misinterpreted to enable Darkfall to retain its political power over Keltor. Proof! What were once theological anomalies in the Draaka’s chits are about to become proven Darkfall plots to release the Unraveller demon from the Void.’

  ‘You call the Unraveller a demon?’ Hella sounded shocked.

  Nema groaned. ‘Not I, but the Draaka, and not just she. Why do you look so whey-faced, girl? Can you say you have not heard what is bandied about so commonly in every cavesite market here on Acantha?’

  ‘I do not listen to blasphemous filth.’

  Nema snorted scornfully. ‘Filth will not disappear because you stop your ears, child. It will grow and breed maggots and what will you do then? Stop your eyes as well? And your nose when the stench is too bad? Calling the Unraveller a demon, crowned in flame, is the least of the Draaka’s blasphemies. Here she is more bold. She preaches openly that the Unraveller demon seduced Lanalor and then incited him to open a hole in the Void so that it could escape, but was prevented at the last moment by the Void guardian. Song save us, Void guardian! Faugh!’

  ‘Lanalor was seduced by the Unraveller?’ Glynn probed. Lev had mentioned the Unraveller, but she could not recall the context.

  ‘How could he be, when the promised Unraveller had not yet come from the worlds beyond the mist? So far, only bewildered strangers have come through Lanalor’s portal.’

  Glynn’s heart began hammering. ‘People come here from another world?’

  Nema flicked her an irritated glance. ‘They did. They do not now. The fact that the strangers stopped coming is one of the main reasons faith in Darkfall has faltered. While they came, people knew that Lanalor’s portal existed. Then they just stopped coming and no one knows why. Ironically it may be the Draaka herself who knows mos
t about the portal now, with her scholars collecting every myth scroll that Lanalor wrote, in search of words which show that he did not give Darkfall half the powers they claim he bestowed on it, but that they were usurped by his sister, Alyda, after his death.’

  ‘Such writings must be a lie,’ Hella said.

  ‘They must, and yet Lanalor was mad for a time.’

  ‘It was the Chaos spirit who made him mad.’

  ‘The Draaka will argue Shenavyre’s death made him mad. Is it not more reasonable to assume that a man whose beloved died violently would be driven mad by grief rather than being healed by it?’

  ‘But he …’

  ‘The Draaka will point out that soulweavers have a vested interest in saying Lanalor was sane after Shenavyre died, because that was when he gave them the bulk of their power.’

  Hella looked sick. ‘It is all upside-down. What says the Draaka of the Firstmade?’

  Ferocious Nema looked suddenly very frail. ‘The Draaka maintains the Firstmade was an illusion.’

  Hella’s knuckles whitened but all Glynn could think of was that a portal had been constructed to reach to another world. Surely that must be how she had journeyed here!

  ‘What will happen when the Unraveller comes, if Darkfall has ceased to exist and no one believes in the Firstmade?’ Hella asked very softly. Her skin was so pale it seemed to have a faint bluish tinge in the dim light.

  ‘Perhaps our faith is not necessary,’ Nema said, looking away towards the night sky. ‘Some have said it is arrogance to assume it is needed. It may be that the Unraveller will fulfil Lanalor’s vow no matter what has happened.’ Nema clenched her wizened hand into a fist. ‘But Lanalor believed Darkfall must endure, and if one believes in the Unraveller whom he called, then one must believe Darkfall will be needed. That is why the Draaka must be stopped here on Acantha. Her hold over this island must be broken so that the tentacles she has stretched to Fomhika and beyond will wither.’