The men of Morvanhal might have been less fortunate, had they not heeded Elof s warning and been crouched down behind the shieldwall. Those among the duergar wise in such arcane matters believed that the shields had mirrored more than light that day; for it was certain that such strange metals as were bound within that hammer could unleash a hundred unseen deaths if ill-handled. But none who were there, save perhaps Ils and her folk, guessed anything of this. It is told in the chronicles that even as the roar and thunder of the riven land abated, and the earth grew still again, the first gusts blew of a mighty gale that scoured the smoke and dust from the air, and for a few minutes left the skies clear. Then the bravest among them ventured to peer shakily over their shield-rims, marvelling at the catastrophe that had occurred and even more at their own preservation. And as they gathered courage and stood up upon shaky limbs, humbled and fragile in the face of so vast an event, they saw that outside the shelter of the shields the snow and frost had been scorched from the hillside, and withered grasses were steaming in the sun. Their wonder grew when they perceived that all around them, upon every hill as far as the eye could reach, even beyond the possible reach of that blast, it was the same. The cloud that had maintained that wintry landscape was gone, blown apart and dispersed; and so no less was the will that had created it. Only then, with a shaky lift in their hearts, did they begin to understand.
One of the first afoot was Kermorvan, and though he was as awed as any by the spectacle of such utter devastation he turned at once to see that his people were safe. He helped Ils up, her wounded leg stiff beneath her, and kept her hand clasped tight in his own as he gazed around that shattered scene; and he it was who first voiced the hesitant hope that was slowly swelling to a certainty in all their minds. "A great change is come upon the world!" he cried, his clear voice carried upon the wind. "The balance is turned back! The power of the Ice is swept away!"
And down that wind as though in answer, as if he had heard those words or perceived them in his vision, came Elof. Spiralling from the sky he fell like a moth from a candleflame, whirling and tumbling like one of his own plumes upon ruined and smouldering wings. They saw him at once by the trail of smoke he left. Down over their heads he glided, black against the red of the sinking sun, and crashed onto the hillside above in a sprawl of limbs. Up the hill they streamed after him, his friends to the fore, though they dreaded what they were sure they would find. But some long strides away Roc, who was first, stopped, hesitated, whispered "Is that him?"
For the man who lay upon the scorched grass, arms and legs outflung, had skin darkened to the hue of old bronze, and hair of purest white. "Ah!" breathed Ils, her voice choked and hoarse. "He might almost be that Watcher… Fool! Of course it's him! But… living?" As if hearing her somehow, the man stirred, moving his legs slowly, and Ils cried out; beneath them silver gleamed against the black ground, and a slow trickle of blood ran from the rags of his clothes. Forgetting her own pains, she hastened to tend him; and found, when she did so, that the anklets set in his legs had shattered, violently as it seemed, and the fragments were gradually working loose from his wounds.
"He lives, then; but what more?" demanded Kermorvan, returning with men bearing a shield lined with blankets, and bending over the anxious knot of figures. The gale was blowing ever more strongly from the south, a warm wind rich with the promise of rain, and heavy clouds were rising over the southward hills. "Will he waken?" Ils looked up at him, her huge dark eyes troubled.
"The wounds to his legs are healing already; his burns not so, but we have salved them… But as to wakening, well…" The first shadows of the night touched the hillside, and she sighed. Above the noise of the torrents a distant rumble sounded in the sky. "His eyes are open, as they were from the first. I think he has heard all we said to him - but he does not seem to understand. It is as if he looks elsewhere, at things we cannot see; and we are not real to him."
"He has flown too close to the sun," said a deep voice quietly from behind them. "That man may not do, and yet live."
Kermorvan jerked upright. An awful chill had lanced through him at the very sound of that voice, and he knew at once whose it was. The huge figure that stooped beside him had not been there only a moment since; and though from the huge rough-shafted spear the man leaned upon he had the look of a warrior, no one in all the army wore such a long and dusty mantle of midnight blue, nor such a wide-brimmed hat. But even had Kermorvan been a man of less swift thought, that chill would have warned him.
"You!" he said, his words forming thick as blood upon his tongue with the wrath that welled up within him." You! Raven! And well you are named, coming to settle upon a battlefield, and batten upon the fallen! May you fall in your turn, you callous crow of carrion, and drag down all your kind with you! Your kind, that in their eternal squabbling trample unheeding upon the brief lives of men!" He waved a furious hand at the devastation in the vale below. "Why could you not have prevented that, friend of men that you claim to be? Why could you not save him, at least, rather than come prate above him? What better have you wrought, with all your endless wars? Your kind or the Ice-kind, one Power is as bad for mankind as another! Why will you twist and turn the world this way and that between you? A lasting curse upon the whole pack of you! Why will you not leave men be, to live their own lives?"
The figure turned its head, and he found himself staring into a single eye that gleamed bright as black waters beneath the shadows of the brim. The face in the shadows was lean, hook-nosed, seamed as an ancient oak with lines that were a cryptic chart of long years of wisdom, and perhaps also a vast and joyous laughter; the rest was hidden beneath shaggy white hair and beard. But the eye was young and clear, that of a man in his vigorous prime, as he was himself; it surveyed him gravely, without anger, and with only the faintest tinge of mockery, before it spoke. "That will come; and this day has hastened it. That is worth a higher price than is paid. Be content."
Kermovan glared at him. "I may not be Elof, to cross blades with the Powers; but since he lies at death's door I will at least have my say nonetheless, you despoiler of our…"
"No!"
The commanding strength of the voice astonished him; but though it was deep and fair, it was not Raven's tone. Kermorvan turned again, and though a man of courage he found himself shaking uncontrollably. Elof stood before him, upright and straight upon his own strong legs; and though it obviously hurt his deep-burned face, he smiled. "I heard you. But folk such as I don't die so easily, old friend."
Kermorvan, limp with astonishment, looked back at the Raven. "You… did come to help? You saved him?"
The white beard tossed. "I? I did nothing. All that was done, he did. But if it is help you wish, I may spare you some, my lord Keryn, under my ancient bond with your folk and line, and because I am indebted to you for your work today. I give you advice, and it is this: Begone from here at once! Back to your ships with all your folk, and begone! At once!"
"But Kerys!" said Kermorvan angrily. "The unleashed waters threaten it and all its folk! We must stay to succour them, at least; not only because they are our kindred, but all the more so!"
Raven growled impatiently. "You cannot aid them! Nor should you try! Do you not see why? But you knew that a great Change was impending, that once again the world hung in the balance! Surely you realised that such things cannot be avoided, that the balance cannot be stayed, only tipped one way, or another? This way, or that? Very well; the balance has been tipped the better way, away from the changeless Ice towards the side of life. You have had a hand in that; why rail against it now? Did you not know that Life means change, constant change?"
"No," said Kermorvan dully. "I did not guess."
"But why not?" The deep voice was rich, almost rejoicing. "Nothing endures forever unchanged, not the stone beneath your feet nor the stars above your head! Not men, and not Powers! Everything changes, everything shifts." His eye gleamed brightly, as if at some secret only he knew. Overhead the stars were coming out, a
nd the pale ribbon of the River stretched across the heavens. "And why should it not? Would you have the River frozen and dead, as that one was below, or the River flowing? For if it did not, how would anything ever reach the Sea?"
Silence lay across the shattered land; even the thunder of the new forces below them seemed stilled for that time. The clouds were gathering fast, hiding the stars. The tall figure raised his spear. "In the end there are only two choices - call them what you will, growth or decay, life or death, a clear river of a stagnant pool. The fate of Kerys is hard; none know that better than I, who have watched over it since its birth, and joined my blood to its royal line. But it was old as the lands and races of men are reckoned, long overdue to alter, one way or another; yet so entrenched was it in its ways that only some such disaster might bring that about… Its folk must forget what was theirs, and struggle to find something new in a new land, as their ancestors did, and yours also. Harsh, yes; but consider how much harder the other way would have been!"
Kermorvan lowered his eyes. "You are right; and I should not have spoken as I did."
The grey head nodded, and the voice became softer. "All things go their way appointed, and in their own time! But I should not blame you for not grasping that truth. Even I did not, not wholly, till Ilmarinen taught it me, greatest of the Elder Powers. Most of his fellows never learned it, least of all Taoune, and Taounehtar after him. Well, she knows it now. And she has paid a grievous price for her knowledge. For like all her rebel kind she has resisted change longest of all; yet now it has been forced upon her, and her loss is all the more grievous. She was trapped in her body with no chance to leave it; and so she is severed from her power, reduced as Taoune was to a shadow of her former self. It will fade now, that power; and with it, the Ice. That will be a change for the better, will it not? But since ail things are linked in the world, each acting upon another, you must accept one change as part of many others; you cannot pick and choose."
Kermorvan raised his head suddenly, and stared in horror; he made as if to speak, reached out to seize the old man's mantle. Elof called out a warning, but faster even than his thought the spear swung about in the gnarled hand, and the tip of the blade dug in beneath the point of Kermorvan's jaw. "No more! You… your duty is to your land. Linger here and you will not live to fulfil it. The forces that were wielded today have flooded land and sky with poisons; my storm-winds bear the worst of them northward to the Ice, to speed the cleansing of what lurks there; but enough is left to put you all in peril!"
Kermorvan's mouth hardened with anger, and he pulled free of the insistent spear-point; but without wasting time he whirled about and shouted to the silent throng below the hill "Captains, to me! Heralds, sound! Form up for the march! We're going home!"
No other words could have aroused so thunderous a cheer from those weary throats, drowning even the thunderclap that burst overhead. But Kermorvan did not stay to acknowledge it; he turned back at once, with a question hovering on his lips - and then stood staring. The figure of the Raven had vanished. "Did you see him go?" he demanded of Ils, and of Roc; but neither of them had. "And you?"
Elof shrugged. "That's a dark mantle he wears. He seemed simply to… merge with the dark."
Kermorvan looked at him strangely. "You had nothing much to say to each other, he and you; yet it was to you he always came."
Elof returned the look. "Everything he said was as true for me."
Understanding widened Kermorvan's eyes. "Of course… You have lost more to change; far more. I grieved with you, my friend; I grieve now. Words will not serve me better…"
Roc grunted his agreement; he could not meet Elof s look. Ils took his hand, very gently, perhaps because of the burns. "You deserved better," she said softly. "After so long a struggle…" From the shadows below the horns were sounding, summoning the army to the march. "Do you feel able to… walk, now? To ride?"
Elof nodded. "I do. In body, at least, I am healing. For the rest…" His eyes seemed to lose their focus once more, to gaze into distances undreamt of. "That is harder to tell. But I will come with you, for now." A slow rain began to fail about them as they set off down the hill.
The march to the sea was a silent one at first, but by the second day it became more triumphal in mood, as the true measure of their victory at last began to dawn upon the weary soldiers, and the promise of going home. Even the prospect of short commons and a long voyage could not dampen their joy; but they kept it muted out of respect for their king, and for the mastersmith who had wielded such awesome power, at such cost to himself. For the most part both men rode in silence, and Kermorvan most of all, to Ils' deep concern. "Something troubles him, something more than I can understand," she told Elof as they rode. "Do you know what it might be?"
Elof looked at her, and took her hand in his. "I cannot help, Ils," was all he said.
With the column marched the Ravens, and their many captives, whom Kermorvan pardoned, and proclaimed free. When they came to the coast and their landing he offered them all their freedom and their ships to seek out their homeland, but to a man they declined; they were his followers and his people, and preferred to follow his fortunes if he would permit it. To this he agreed, since there was land enough and to spare in his eastern realm. "And through them I may one day come to some peace with the Ekwesh settlers in the West," he added, to his friends. "With the grip of the Ice loosening upon them, they may become more reasonable. In time," he added, looking hard at Elof.
"A wise hope, I think," was all Elof replied; it did not seem to satisfy the king. It was an exchange neither Ils nor Roc understood, and it grieved them that there seemed to be some cause of tension between two such fast friends. But neither would give any clue as to what it might be, until the dawn when the fleet at last set sail. Last of all to weigh anchor was the Prince Korentyn, and at its stern stood the King and his friends, looking back. As the great ship turned its head out into the bay, catching the freshening wind, Elof leaned back intently, as if listening to some remote sound.
"I don't hear…" began Roc, but Kermorvan held up his hand, and together they listened.
A moment later Ils looked around sharply. "It sounds like… bells," she said, and bit her full lip.
"Aye!" said Roc uneasily. "Couldn't make it out, but… bells, it must be. From Kerys…"
Kermorvan nodded. "So it is, but they are swinging with the waves now. Soon the waters will ring the bells even in that great city, in those high towers I have never seen, save in my dreams. And where else, Mastersmith? Where else?"
Such was the anger in his voice that Ils caught him by the arm. "He knows," said Kermorvan softly. "What I was about to ask the Raven. He knows the question; he may even know the answer. But he will not tell me!" He controlled himself with difficulty, and stood up, very straight. "As your friend I might have a claim on your truthful answer, Mastersmith. But as a king you owe it to me!"
Elof ran his fingers through his whitened mane. He had never felt older or wearier than then. "You shall have it," he said. "But not now."
"When, then?" demanded Kermorvan tautly.
"When I choose. But it will not be long delayed; that I promise you."
The voyage back was by all accounts swift and sure; but to Kermorvan, it must not have seemed so. Nevertheless, it was clear to Elof that he was doing his best to be content with that promise, and be the friend he had always been; and that was what Elof most desired. He surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could, and this did not go unnoticed. "Almost as if you're… savouring us." said Roc bluntly. "Storing us up, so you won't forget. Not thinking of setting out on one more lunatic search, are you? Because lunatic it will be, I promise you! At your age? In your condition?"
Ils put an arm around his shoulders. "If she remembers you still, she will do the searching; there is nobody now who can hold her back. Louhi will have problems of her own!"
Elof smiled, but it became a grimace of pain. "What I did to her… that may hold her back
. Even at the last I betrayed her, Ils…"
"No!" said Kermorvan, pouring him a stoup of wine, made doubly precious by their short supplies. "Drink this, man, and take heart! I was there; I saw! And I will judge you, as is my right; as once before I declined to. You did what was inevitable, with no time for thought; and you were shielding me. If the old Kara is there, she will not forget that."
"Maybe," said Elof quietly. "What you say may be true. But meanwhile… I am waiting for a sign. And though I am happy among you all, I grow weary."
At long last there came a sunset when the mastheads hailed land on the horizon. That brought Kermorvan and the others on deck, but to their surprise they found Elof already there; he was huddled up by the steersman's bench against the cold night wind, and coughing. He looked up as the king approached. "I said I would answer your question one day, Kermorvan. And this is the day."
Kermorvan's face went grey, and he sat down heavily on the bench. "I feared it might be." Visibly he gathered his strength. "Tell me, then, and have done with it. What Louhi threatened me with, and I laughed away for the army's sake - it has haunted me all these days and nights since. I see it in my dreams, even. Was it true?"
"Yes," said Elof quietly. "It was. It is." Ils and Roc stared down at him aghast, but he shook his head sadly. "Think of it! Where did the waters come from, that make up the great glaciers of the Ice? From the seas, in the end; and their level tell. New coastlines were laid bare; new land emerged, as other land was covered. And men took that land, because it was farthest from the Ice; and because no other Power held it as their dominion, as Tapiau does the forests. The old kingdoms of men were crushed, and it was in coastal lands that their new realms sprang up, even those of the Ekwesh. Why was the Vale of Kerys so deep, think you? Because once before it was a sea, and waves broke over that smooth ridge where the Gate was built; the Yskianas was all that remained of that sea. It only reclaims what was taken from it." He laughed, till it turned to a coughing fit. "Ironic, is it not? Kerys, Morvannec, Morvan, Kerbryhaine, men settled those great realms to escape the Ice; men held them against it. Yet all the time they were the Ice's own creation, as unnatural in the world as it was. And now Taounehtar is weakened, the others of her kind will not be able to sustain it. It has ceased its advance. Slowly it will melt and withdraw, and the oceans will reclaim their own."
The Hammer of the Sun Page 50
