She took Kutch’s hand, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
Phoenix gestured for Reeth and Serrah to follow him out, and they left quietly. In the corridor, Phoenix drew them aside and said, ‘I’m sorry, Reeth. I realise he’s close to you and it must be distressing. The gods know we’ve seen enough loss in recent days.’
‘These are distressing times, Phoenix. And yes, he’s important. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.’
‘He’s going to die soon,’ the sorcerer announced bluntly.
‘That was obvious.’
‘Come on, Reeth, you must see the implications for you in all this.’
‘What are you getting at?’ Serrah demanded.
‘The magic. There’s been some unprecedented malfunction, or worse. I can feel it ebbing away. Kutch and Wendah feel it, and Praltor certainly did, as you just heard. And it’s what killed the meld.’
‘Go on,’ the Qalochian prompted.
‘You and I and Praltor are all in the same boat, Reeth. Or similar. Founder magic’s kept us going longer than we should. Now the debt’s being repaid. Does any of this strike a chord with you?’
‘I…don’t know.’
‘You said you felt drained, Reeth,’ Serrah reminded him.
‘My stamina’s low, it’s true.’
‘Look at the back of your hands,’ Phoenix suggested.
Caldason did. There were brown splotches there he hadn’t noticed before. Liver spots.
‘Like Praltor, I’m reconciled to my end,’ Phoenix continued. ‘I see my life as fulfilled, and I have my certainties about what’s to come. How about you, my friend?’
Reeth stared at him.
Then sounds of uproar drifted in from outside. Scores of alarm bells began ringing.
‘Here they come,’ Serrah whispered.
They broke away from Phoenix and ran.
They joined the hundreds making for the walls. On the battlements, they found Karr with Goyter, watching the advance. The plain was black with advancing troops.
‘So the last chapter is finally written,’ Karr said.
But the great army slowed, and stopped. Just two men continued walking towards the fortress, one of them waving a white flag.
‘Must we parley with them?’ Goyter asked.
‘That’s a flag of truce,’ Karr reminded her. ‘We must honour it. I’m going out.’
‘Are you sure, Dulian?’
‘It’s my place to. Reeth, would you come with me and carry our flag?’
‘I’d be honoured.’
Somebody donated a shirt and a makeshift flag was quickly constructed. The gates were opened a crack and Karr and Reeth left the redoubt.
As they walked towards the little delegation, and the countless, silent thousands beyond them, Karr said, ‘What if their terms are too harsh? Do we refuse them and fight on?’
‘You have to be the judge of that. For my part, I’d want nothing to do with any surrender that involved retribution against our people.’
‘Neither would I.’
They reached the two men. Both wore uniforms, one of Rintarah, the other Gath Tampoor. The latter asked of Karr, ‘You’re in charge here?’
‘Insomuch as we have a single leader, yes.’
‘We’re the two highest ranking surviving officers of our respective forces,’ the Rintarahian explained. ‘We’ve come to discuss terms of surrender.’
‘I must make it clear that we won’t be party to any capitulation that involves reprisal killings or draconian punishments.’
‘We’re glad to hear it,’ the Rintarahian replied. ‘We had our fears that you might exact an even higher price than you already have.’
‘How could we when we’ll be your prisoners?’
‘Our prisoners? I think we’re talking at cross purposes. We’re here to agree the surrender.’
‘So you said.’
‘Our surrender,’ the Gath Tampoorian informed him.
Karr was too astonished to speak.
Caldason said, ‘Let’s get this straight. You are surrendering to us?’
‘Of course. You must know things are in chaos on our side. And we had some rulers with us. When we saw what happened to them…well, frankly most of us haven’t the heart to carry on.’
‘Tell me,’ the other man added, ‘how did you do it? How did you kill the magic?’
‘We didn’t,’ Caldason admitted. ‘But I think I know who did.’
It was probably unprecedented in war that a surrendering army, many times larger than their captors, had volunteered to regulate their own captivity. However, as the islanders had neither manpower nor resources to police their prisoners, that’s exactly what happened.
That evening, the fleet Caldason had seen arrived, and the Diamond Isle hosted the biggest collection of ships in history. And by now, no one was in any doubt as to who was about to pay a visit.
The warlord didn’t demand that anyone come to pay homage to him. He travelled to meet the rebels. Not in a victory procession with marching soldiers and drummers, but modestly, in a simple open carriage, accompanied only by two aides, one of whom drove.
Everyone was struck by his extraordinary ordinariness of appearance, underlined by a lack of any finery or ostentation in his dress. They were at least as impressed by the indefinable quality of his presence.
When he entered the redoubt’s inner square he was met by a delegation led by Karr. But it was Disgleirio who spoke first.
‘Do we bow?’ he asked, an edge of defiance in his voice.
‘No,’ Zerreiss told him. ‘No more bowing, or any retribution. I’m not conquering you.’ The warlord looked about as he said this. His eyes rested on Caldason. ‘I thought you were like me,’ he said.
‘I am,’ said Caldason, eyeing him coolly.
‘I meant in respect of my talent.’
‘I meant in our antipathy for magic.’
‘Yet magic linked us in our dreams.’
‘I believe that’s because our relationships to it, though different, are equally strong.’
‘There’s some sense in that.’
‘So you made all this happen?’ Caldason indicated the scene with a sweep of his hand.
‘Yes, and more.’
‘Are you a god?’ Wendah piped up.
Zerreiss laughed, and at his back his aides smiled. ‘So many people make that assumption. No, young lady, I’m not a god.’
‘What are you?’
‘I’m a man.’
‘How do you do what you do?’ Serrah said.
‘How is a question I can’t answer categorically, I can only speculate. I was born with a very simple talent, but I tend not to think of myself as an aberration, but rather as a little ahead of my time.’
Phoenix pushed forward. ‘Will you explain that?’
The warlord noted Phoenix’s robes. ‘Ah, a sorcerer. I’ve had occasion to be at odds with your calling in the past. Today I can only offer my regrets at the termination of your profession.’
‘I was just getting the hang of it,’ Kutch complained.
‘It was getting the hang of you, young man. Hopefully you’ll come to see that. To answer the questions; I believe I’m an example of what’s to come. Look about the world. Nature selects the lifeforms best equipped to survive and thrive. It favours the most adaptable, and what the race of man needs now is the adaptability to shake off the stifling hand of magic. We need to breathe free air, think free thoughts and guide our lives with rationality.’
‘You say you’ve always had this power?’ Karr said.
‘From birth, and despite there being nothing out of the ordinary in my parents. I found out early that I could affect magic, but the talent was a feeble thing when I was a child. It grew as I did. I learned to control the ability to some extent, and to extend its influence more and more. So that now it takes just my approach, if I will it, to negate the magic. I never chose this path. A religious man might say I was supposed to be a catalyst and h
ad no choice. I tend to a more rational view, as you might expect, but at root I don’t really know. What I do know is that if I’m the first, it’s the first of many. The majority. All, in time.’
‘It’s sad,’ Kutch said, ‘the magic going.’
‘It must seem that way to you. And yes, there’s much that’s wondrous and beautiful, and even good in it. But it’s an illusion. It kept us transfixed, like moths around a flame. What’s to come, without it, will be an adventure so much greater. But certain things have to happen before that.’ He turned to the Patrician. ‘You’re the one called Karr?’
‘I am.’
‘You have authority here?’
‘I believe so.’
‘Then you have some organising to do, and on quite a scale. Don’t be alarmed, you’ll get the help you need. The fact is the empires are finished. If they don’t know it yet, they will once I’ve cleansed any remaining pockets. A new order’s needed, but it won’t be run by me. I’ve never wanted power, only to do my job. It seems to me that the only organised, untainted force is the Resistance. I know it’s taken some terrible knocks, and you’ve lost a lot of people, but it’s still out there, along with a lot of sympathisers. It’s going to fall to you to step in, organise, rebuild. From here on the Diamond Isle will be the hub of a new civilisation.’
‘You don’t believe in setting modest tasks, my lord.’
‘Plain Zerreiss, if you please. I don’t believe in one man being regarded as any better than his fellows, and I would hope you’ll build a world enshrining that, but it’s up to you. I can only create the conditions.’
‘Conditions of chaos.’
‘All creation came from chaos, the priests tell us. You should be able to construct a paltry civilisation. It won’t be easy, granted, and it’ll take time. But do you have a choice?’ Zerreiss looked at each of them in turn.
‘Will you play any part?’ Caldason asked.
‘Where I can. But mainly as a taker of satisfaction for what I’ve been able to do. And what of you? You find yourself in a difficult position.’
‘Do I?’
‘You already differ from the man in my dreams. Your bloom is withering. The going of the magic brings back the years. Stay where I’ve been and you’ll die.’
‘Can’t you make it not apply to Reeth in some way?’ Serrah almost pleaded.
‘I’m sorry. I wish I could, but I can only take away, not give. However, I need to consolidate, and guide my people to aid yours. There are places in the world I haven’t got to yet, and might not for a long while. Think on that.’ He turned to leave. ‘I’m glad I met you, Reeth Caldason.’
Early next morning, Zerreiss moved on with the bulk of his entourage. Others were left to help deal with the empire prisoners, and to begin the work.
Around midday, a wagon rode into the redoubt. It carried Zahgadiah Darrok, minus his dish.
‘Did I miss anything?’ he asked when Pallidea had finished covering him in kisses.
He was able to tell them of Vance’s fate, and explained how he himself barely escaped on the vanishing residue of magic in his flying disc. Landing scarcely in time, and awkwardly, he was found by islanders, shaken but not seriously injured.
‘Your disc,’ Pallidea bemoaned, ‘how are you going to get on without it?’
‘I did once, before I could afford it. I’ll think of something. Providing you’re about to help me. I’m assuming you haven’t gone cool on the idea of squiring a cripple?’
‘I never will.’
Darrok had arrived in time for a hastily arranged ceremony. There were several reasons for it. The first was the christening of Kinsel and Tanalvah’s baby.
‘I’ve decided the boy will be called Dulian,’ Kinsel announced, Teg and Lirrin looking on wide-eyed.
It was a popular choice, and there was applause.
‘I’m taken aback,’ Karr replied, ‘and honoured, of course. Dulian Rukanis. Has quite a ring, doesn’t it?’
‘Rukanis-Lahn,’ Kinsel corrected. ‘Unless you or any other has an objection?’
No one spoke. It was the first small step on the path to Kinsel’s healing.
‘Dulian Rukanis-Lahn, first citizen of the new order,’ Karr declared.
The second point of the get-together was for Karr to announce that his age and health meant he had to step down from heading the United Revolutionary Council.
Although not unexpected, the news was greeted with cries of displeasure and displays of genuine affection.
Goyter would be his companion during retirement, and their relationship was to be cemented by the public exchange of vows. Karr nominated Quinn Disgleirio as his successor, a commendation the Council was expected to approve. Neither development came as a great surprise to most people.
The final purpose of the gathering was to bid farewell to Reeth and Serrah.
A ship had been provided. It was small but fast, and its volunteer crew were the best that could be found. As Zerreiss had made least headway in the far south, that was the direction chosen, to islands hardly known, and perhaps a rumoured land beyond them, if it wasn’t a myth.
Phoenix and Praltor Mahaganis were offered places. Neither seriously considered it. Both were in decline, especially Praltor, and pronounced themselves content.
The hardest decision was not to suggest Kutch went with them. Serrah argued it would be unfair to ask the boy. It could ruin his budding relationship with Wendah, should she choose not to go. And what of Varee? Was he to come too, or risk losing his brother again? Above all, what if no haven was found, and Kutch had to watch Caldason die, and comfort his grieving lover? The Diamond Isle offered him some kind of stability, and the prospect of a future. Reeth had to agree.
Neither favoured speeches. They said their goodbyes privately and without fuss. Now they stood on the deck of their ship, about to catch the tide and waiting for the last farewell.
‘Are you sure about this?’ Caldason said.
‘Of course I am. What purpose would my life have without you?’
He was a little more drawn. Faint lines had appeared on his face and neck. Serrah had plucked more of his grey hairs.
‘Looking at it now, I can see that the first time I knew I loved you was when you tried to take your life, back in Bhealfa. It was then that I realised I couldn’t lose you.’
‘And you haven’t. We’re in this together, to whatever outcome.’
‘Ironic, isn’t it? That I should spend my life shunning magic, and now I’m hunting it.’
‘I said the gods liked a joke.’
‘Bastards.’ He grinned at her, showing love in every line of his face.
‘Ah, here they come, Reeth.’
Kutch, Wendah and Varee appeared on the dockside. Serrah waved them up the gangplank.
Wendah and Varee didn’t delay their goodbyes. Sensing the need for privacy, they quickly left. Then Serrah found herself suddenly fascinated by the view further along the deck. She embraced Kutch and kissed him, then left him alone with Reeth.
‘What do you think your chances are?’ Kutch asked.
‘I might have thought you could answer that better than me, you being the only expert on magic present.’
‘There’s no point in knowing anything about it now. It’s gone.’ He was doleful. ‘But the thing about Zerreiss is that he kind of pushes the magic out of the land as he advances, like squeezing wine out of a sac. So it’s possible you’ll find somewhere where magic still occurs. I hope you do,’ he added quietly. ‘I’ll never see it again.’
‘You’ll see another kind of magic. With the life you’ve got ahead, with Wendah and your brother, and with whatever it is you decide to do with yourself. Things will be better without magic, believe me.’
‘They won’t be better without you.’
‘Thanks, Kutch. I’m so glad I’ve known you.’
The boy flew into his arms and hugged him tight. ‘Don’t go,’ he pleaded, tears rolling.
‘I have to go. You kno
w that.’ Caldason gently moved him back, hands on his shoulders. ‘You’ve been the best friend and companion a man could have. Now get on with your life.’
Kutch looked as though he was going to speak. Instead he simply stared, then turned away. He took three steps, looked back and said, ‘I’ll never forget you.’ He ran to the gangplank and down onto the harbour.
When they started to move off shortly after, he was still standing on the quay. He shouted something, but they couldn’t hear what it was.
The Diamond Isle was soon swallowed by mist.
Together, Reeth and Serrah set off into a new world.
The author of The Covenant Rising and The Righteous Blade, Stan Nicholls is best known for his internationally acclaimed Orcs: First Blood series. His journalism has appeared in The Guardian, The Independent, Time Out, Rolling Stone, SFX and Locus, among many others. He currently lives in the West Midlands with his wife, writer Anne Gay.
www.stannicholls.com
Acknowledgements
With thanks to Stella Gemmell, for the gift of just the
right word at just the right time.
In a spirit of friendship and nostalgia, affectionate waves are offered to Michael Anft, Dave Baldock-Ling, Ken Brooks, Jean Dempsey, John Eggeling, Gamma, David & Shirley Griffiths, Ernest Harris, Ron McGuinness, Alan Moore, Steve Moore, Cathy Nugent, Michel Parry, Cliff Perriam, Derek Stokes, Martin Walsh, Di Wathen, and Jenny & Daphne.
The Diamond Isle is dedicated to the loving memory of Eileen Costelloe, John Griffiths, Nick Reynolds, Barbara Shrestha, and Annie Gleason & Daniel O’Grady. And it would be great if you could stop doing this now, please; I’m running out of friends.
About the Author
The author of The Covenant Rising and The Righteous Blade, Stan Nicholls is best known for his internationally acclaimed Orcs: First Blood series. His journalism has appeared in The Guardian, The Independent, Time Out, Rolling Stone, SFX and Locus, among many others. He currently lives in the West Midlands with his wife, writer Anne Gay.
www.stannicholls.com
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