The Warrior's Tale

by Allan Cole, Chris Bunch

  Her cast was true, and thudded into The Sarzana's chest, just below his ribs. He screamed, a wailing agony like a gutted roebuck, then his scream became a cry of joy, a screech of Tm free!'

  In that instant I felt the Archon depart.

  The Sarzana plucked the dagger from his body and spun it away, back at Corais. The blade darted back towards us like a striking serpent, and took her in the chest. I don't know if The Sarzana was already dead, or if his great magical powers meant Corais's strike was but a flesh wound, nor did it matter. I was on the dais, sword slashing with all my rage and pain behind it. It struck The Sarzana full on the shoulder, beside his neck, and clove him nearly to the breastbone. Blood fountained, and he fell limply as I yanked my sword free.

  But I took no chances, and as Ismet had, slashed and slashed once more and then cast his dripping heart into the dying fireplace. Perhaps I should've saved it for an icon but couldn't. Not with Corais's life still clinging to it. The flames took the wizard's heart and roared up and out, as if a barrel of oil had been poured on them. The room shimmered, as if seen in summer's heat, and once more the earth shuddered under my boots, and I heard a far-distant wailing as demons took The Sarzana's soul, or what had been a soul once, and this world would never know him again.

  But I wasn't thinking that then, but was going to where Corais lay, her head pillowed on Polillo's knees.

  Surprisingly, she still lived, although I could tell the Seeker would embrace her in minutes. She looked at me, tried to smile, but couldn't.

  'I would've made a ... shitty ... old lady, anyway,' she said, then blood runnelled from her lips and she was gone.

  Polillo looked at me. 'Magic killed her,' she said in a whisper only I could hear. 'Just as it shall take me.'

  I got to my feet. Xia was beside me, but I didn't want any comfort from her at that moment.

  I know we all have to die, and Corais, when she chose a soldier's life, chose a soldier's fate as well. And she had brought down The Sarzana. But just then I would've traded him, and everyone else in those damned Konyan islands, for Corais's return.

  Twenty-Two

  On Homeward Winds

  IN MOST LANDS the god of victory is gloriously winged, its face an image of fierce nobility. But the idol of victory ought to be a direwolf howling over its gutted prey. In battle, I've never found victory noble, much less sweet. Oh, there might be joy for a time - drunken boasting to one's mates about how you tricked and overcame a particularly canny enemy. But a soldier's joy soon rings hollow when she fully realizes it was only luck that left her standing; and how many of her comrades were deserted by luck that day.

  There'd been other deaths, besides my Guardswomen. Phocas had been killed by an arrow launched by an unseen sniper as Cholla Yi's galley swept through the canals. Others included Captain Meduduth of our own force; Captain Yezo; Nor, who I prayed found some release in death; and many hundred Konyan soldiers and sailors whose names I didn't know. It would be many a year before this victory lost its mourning banners.

  We limped back to Isolde, heroes all. Ships and small boats sailed out to greet us from every island we passed. Trumpets and horns hailed us. Hilltops were alive with Konyans cheering our return. But below-decks the wounded groaned; and on the decks the Evocators blessed corpse after corpse, and put a coin on their tongues to bribe mercy from the Seeker when he carried them to his lair. I spoke to no one, not even Gamelan, not even Xia; but only huddled in my bed mourning Corais and all the women I'd fed to the demons of war. There were fifty of us now. Fifty! Out of all the hundreds I'd set out with when we marched on Lycanth. I did not weep; I was too frozen with grief. When I awoke in the morning I waited long moments before I opened my eyes - praying that when I did, another nightmare would have passed and Corais would be looking down on me with that sardonic grin. I missed her. I miss her still. If there is life after this place, I pray we can march together again under the same banner.

  Two nights out of Isolde, Xia crept into my arms. Our love-making was slow and bittersweet. Afterwards, we half-dozed in one another's arms listening to the booming seas. Just before dawn Xia turned to me and looked deep into my eyes. They'd aged - there was pain there, there was knowledge won at much cost.

  'I love you, Rali,' she said. Before I could answer, she was gone.

  I arose - not fresh, or even particularly cheerful - but I did feel somewhat healed. Also, mourning had been replaced by worry. A feeling of dread nagged at me, but of what, I couldn't say.

  Gamelan was waiting for me in his cabin. 'I was about to send for you, Rali,' he said. 'I have need of you.'

  'It's the Archon, isn't it?' I said, guessing immediately what was in his thoughts. 'He's not done with us, yet. Or we with him.'

  'I'm not certain,' the wizard said. 'I've cast spells in every direction, and he doesn't seem to be about. Admittedly, my conjuring abilities are far from healed. Still, each spell I cast was blocked. No, not blocked - that would be like a wall. This was more like encountering a locked door. That in itself makes me worry.'

  'How may I help?' I asked, setding by his side. 'What can I do that you cannot?'

  'I believe there was - or is - a bond between you and the Archon,' he said. 'It's a bond of hate, to be sure; but there are no stronger chains than can be forged on those fires. Perhaps that bond began when your brother defied the Archons. There were all sorts of black spells about in those days, what with Greycloak and Raveline and the Archons burrowing into places few have dared to approach since the Ancients. Unwilling though he was, Amalric was at the centre of it. Then you came along, and once again an Antero is about when great forces are at work. I knew at Lycanth when Jinnah could not hold, much less cast the bones it was you, and only you to whom they spoke. Then you slew one of them, confirming the Archons' worst fears about the Anteros. Finally, when the last Archon cursed you with his dying breath - and then managed to defy death by fleeing into the ethers - that curse forged the strongest link of all.

  'So, to answer your question, my friend - there is much you can do that I cannot. At least, I pray that is so. Perhaps it is Rali Emilie Antero who holds the key to that barred portal.'

  'What would you have me do?' I asked.

  'Find the Archon,' he said. He drew out the box containing the talisman heart.

  I didn't argue, but the dread increased to heavy, throbbing pressure as I took the box from his hands.

  'Hold it between your palms,' he said. 'Send your thoughts into it. You must focus as hard as you can. Do not speak, or cast about for words for a spell. I will say them for you.'

  I swallowed, then said, 'Give me a moment to prepare myself.'

  I breathed deeply, emptying my mind as best I could. I rolled my shoulders to loosen them, turned my head from side to side to stretch the muscles. Then I grasped the box firmly between my palms and drew in one last long breath. I whooshed it out.

  'I'm ready,' I said.

  And Gamelan began:

  Cast wide the net

  Mother Fate;

  Haul in the catch

  Thy daughter seeks;

  East to the portals

  Where the Old Gods wait;

  And sit in judgment

  Of he who hates.

  I heard a thunderclap and the room darkened. The air became heavy and hot. I smelled sandalwood - my mother's scent. It was stronger than ever before. I heard a voice whisper: 'Rali.' It was my mother's voice and I wanted to weep, I loved her so, missed her so. Again she whispered my name and I felt her breath at my ear, delicate as a butterfly's wing. I shivered.

  The box gave a hard lurch in my hands. I gripped it tighter. I saw a red glow burn through. It was the twin-headed lion symbol of the Archons. The lions bared their teeth, then shot away to hover against the far cabin wall. Then I heard a beast hiss and saw a great black panther crouching beneath them. Her teeth were bared in a snarl and her tail lashed furiously. The fiery red lion heads grew larger. Then a mighty body formed to carry them. They roared, head
s snaking out on a thick single neck. But it only made the panther angrier. She hissed again and crouched lower to the deck, her claws scything out and her legs tensing to leap. Another thunderclap - and a dark hole opened behind the Archon's beast. The heads gave another roar and then the beast plunged through the hole. The panther sprang after them. My mother's voice whispered: 'Follow.'

  Without warning I was in a maelstrom. I was failing from a great height through blackness and swirling lights. My ears were filled with the sounds of howling things, baying things, and things that shrieked in endless pain. I smelled sulphur and blood and fear-voided bowels. I was cold, so cold. Cold as a knife cut in winter seas. Cold as the Seeker's Rain that comes but once every hundred years and kills forest, field and folk. Then I was no longer falling, but running through fire-blackened woods. The trail was narrow and rock sharded and I nearly lost my footing when I stepped on a huge white worm slithering across the path. I was afraid, but I knew I was the pursuer - not the pursued. Ahead I saw the panther bounding around a turn and I ran faster still. As I ran I saw demons gibbering in leafless trees. I saw ravens feasting on wounded soldiers who cried out to me as I passed, 'Help me, help me, please.' But I couldn't stop, dare not stop, but only followed the panther racing along the trail.

  I burst out of the dead forest onto a snow-covered, moonlit plain. The path became a ruined road and I had to leap over crumbling rock and blasted mounds of rubble. There was a battle raging on the plain. Warriors were flailing with swords and axes and the snow was littered with their corpses and stained red by their blood. In the distance I could see the panther; farther still, the Archon's beast. Framing them was the hump of a black mountain; lightning blasted in its peaks.

  The road climbed that mountain; the gradient was steep, slippery with ice, and I was tiring. But the panther was beside me instead of in front of me; and she was urging me on. I forced myself forward and soon we were coming out of a pass. A black steel castle crouched where the road died. It looked like a demon's skull, with turrets for horns, battlements for brows, and a torch-lit gateway for a mouth. I saw the Archon's beast bolt through the gates, which began to swing closed behind it. The panther leaped ahead, but it was too late and the gates crashed shut. The panther screamed and fought at the bars. Its fury set my own blood to boil and I railed with it, gripping the iron work and shouting my battle-cry.

  I saw the Archon. He was in the courtyard with the twin-headed beast at his side. This time he was no immense visage in a cloud, but man-sized. But he was no less fearful and when he saw me he jabbed a twisted finger at me and shouted: 'Begone!'

  Fire blasted from that finger and struck the bars. I cried out in anger and pain as the hot iron seared my hands. I gripped harder, determined not to let go. I smelled my own flesh begin to burn and then someone close by shouted in my ear:

  'Rali! Rali!' It was Gamelan.

  I released the bars and fell back. Then I was in the cabin, still shouting defiance. The talisman box had fallen to the floor where I dropped it. The black husk of a heart lay next to it. Gamelan had an arm about me and was saying:

  'It's all right, Rali. It's all right.'

  I shuddered back to full awareness and said, 'I've returned, wizard.'

  My left hand throbbed with pain. I opened it and burned on my palm was the Archon's brand - the twin-headed lion.

  'Is he still with us?' Gamelan asked. 'Does the Archon still threaten?'

  'Yes,' I said. 'He's here.'

  After I told Gamelan all I'd seen, he said: 'This is extremely serious, my friend. The Archon has managed to create a base of power in one of the spirit worlds. He must have become very powerful, indeed.'

  'But we just defeated him,' I said. 'He should be less powerful, not more.'

  'Evil nurtures evil, Rali,' the wizard said. 'Greycloak unwittingly proved that. The Archon fed on all the spilled blood, all the terror, all the sorrow. The defeat only stopped him from devouring more. And when he ate The Sarzana's soul... Ah, that must have been equal to a hundred dead.'

  'What do you think his purpose is?' I asked.

  'That takes no soothsaying at all,' Gamelan said. 'I know my enemy. First, he wants revenge. He wants to destroy Orissa so not even its memory lingers. Second, he wants even greater power. To create a kingdom in this world. I don't believe Orissa, Lycanth and even the Far Kingdoms themselves would satisfy him. Think of a dark demi-god and you know what sort of creature we're dealing with.'

  'How do we stop him?' I asked.

  ‘We must return to Orissa as quickly as possible,' he said. 'If all our Evocators act in concert we can defeat him.'

  His tone was less certain than his words. But I'd worry about how well our Evocators would do when - and if - we reached home.

  'About the panther,' he said. 'It worries me.'

  'I assumed it was a good omen,' I said. 'It's undoubtedly the panther from the tale my mother told me. The one my namesake rode to help the villagers.'

  'Yes, I know,' Gamelan said. 'Still ... when I held you ... just before you ... returned ... you screamed.'

  'Yes,' I said. 'So?'

  And the wizard said: 'You sounded just like a panther.'

  In Isolde, the entire island turned out for our return. The sea was so full of welcoming boats and ships it was difficult to navigate the bay. Crowds lined the embankment and the streets that led to the docks. Every instrument, every horn, drum, fife, and even pots and pans were employed in joyous noise-making. The city had been scoured clean and banners and flags fluttered from every high place. Bonfires burned jn crackling profusion and the people fed a royal fortune's worth of incense in those fires to perfume the air. Thousands upon thousands of flowers were strewn in our path as we marched off the ships and up the terraced hill to carry official news of our victory to the Lords of the Konyans. First in line were all the Konyan officers who'd survived. Then came me and my women, and Cholla Yi and his men. Princess Xia chose to march at my side and the already hysterical crowd wept when they saw her, and prostrated themselves, calling out her name.

  When we reached the Palace of the Monarchs we stood for hours while each member of the Council of Purity - their voices magnified by the wizards - praised us and hailed our victory. Finally, the crowd grew unruly and demanded Princess Xia and I mount the stage so they could see us. They screamed when we did and I saw men and women alike collapse, they were so overcome.

  When they finally wore down, Lord Kanara tugged at my sleeve, motioning. Princess Xia and I slipped away with him. Once in the palace, he led us to a small, richly decorated room. There was a table set with food and drink. He motioned for us to partake. Both of us shook our heads - we were too tired.

  'But I'll have a little brandy, Father, if you please,' Xia said.

  I said I'd like the same. Lord Kanara filled crystal goblets for us, and another for himself. He sat down and we did the same.

  'My daughter,' Kanara said, 'you have made me very proud.' . Xia bowed her head, humble. 'I only did my duty, Father,' she said. But I could see from the look in her eye the humility was an act.

  'Just the same,' her father said. 'It was a great thing. You have written your name large in our history, my girl.'

  I saw Xia shudder when he addressed her as a girl. But she said: 'There were others much braver than I, Father. But thank you just the same.'

  'There will be many honours bestowed on you,' he said. 'Some, it shall be my pleasure to grant with my own hands.'

  Xia smiled modestly. 'Thank you, Father,' she said. And she sounded most sincere. But again I caught that look, and I swear she seemed to be measuring her father. I believe she found him smaller than she once thought.

  'And you, Captain Antero ,' Kanara said. 'We owe you much.'

  'I only ask help with charts and good advice on how we can return home.'

  'You shall have it,' Kanara said. 'The charts have already been prepared. The counsel of best seafarers is at your disposal.' 'Thank you, Lord Kanara,' I said.

 
; 'We also intend a greater reward,' he said. 'We have agreed your ships will be filled with all the treasure they can hold. When you return home even your lowest sailor shall be rich.'

  Once again I thanked him. And he said, 'Is there anything else? Any wish we might grant that has not been anticipated?'

  I looked at Xia. But I didn't need to see her frown not to ask for the first thing that leaped into my mind. So, I asked him the second.

  'I would beg you to pardon all the men and women in your dungeons, Lord,' I said. If you recall, I was your... guest... there. And I met and befriended many of their inhabitants.'

  Kanara frowned, and when he did so he looked remarkably like his daughter. Then he smiled. 'It shall be done,' he said. He drank his brandy. I could tell he was gathering himself for something else.

  Finally: 'Now, I have a request o(you, Captain,' he said.

  'If it is within my power,' I said, 'I shall do anything you ask.'

  'All of you Orissans must leave at once,' he said. 'And leave quietly.'

  'Father!' Princess Xia said, shocked. 'How could you—' I raised a hand. 'It's all right, your ladyship,' I said. 'I take no offence.' Then I turned to her father. 'You still fear The Sarzana,' I said. 'Or, at least the curse that has been foretold for she who killed him.'

  'I think it's a lot of superstitious nonsense,' Kanara said. 'But others do not. They take it quite seriously. They are afraid of what will happen if you tarry long.'

  'Then I shall go as quickly as possible,' I said. 'Besides, I have reasons of my own to get home as swiftly as I can.'

  Lord Kanara relaxed, quite relieved. He raised his brandy and made a toast: 'To Orissa,' he said. 'May the gods bless her for sending her daughters to us in our time of need.'