Kavin's World

by David Mason

  “A monster out of time,” I said, helpful.

  “Take care.” Karn said. “He hears. But it doesn’t matter what allies a man must take. I have a duty, a great task. This is a world of barbarism, ignorance… I bring wisdom, and wealth, civilization. Some day, when this world of yours is one peaceful realm, under one king, all here may share the honor, when I return to free my old home from those who stole it.”

  I nodded. “All this I have heard already,” I said. “Though not in quite the same words. But I need explanations, Karn. What have I to do with all this?”

  He seemed to be selecting his words, too carefully.

  “Why, we deal with time, here.” he said slowly. “Time… like a river… with branches, and a stream, that a man may row on it in either direction. We looked ahead, in time… we found that someone… yourself, we believe… will be most necessary to our work. We cannot read the future, not as a man reads a book… but we can identify influences, forces… you are such a force.”

  “Now he lies,” Thuramon said. “Ask him the name of his true master. Ask who is the fourth king, who rules these three.”

  Karn sweated, now, glaring at Thuramon.

  “One thing I could not tell you, Prince,” Thuramon said. “Nor can I tell you now. For that matter, even he cannot tell you the name. But now, since we have come this far, I can tell you the rest of the story.”

  He glanced coldly at Karn. “This man lies. Listen. Time is no river; it is a sea, with a hundred thousand islands. Or a cloud, formless and changing. The law of time and space is that there is no law, I suppose. Men lead many different lives at once, in a hundred different worlds, and a man may be dying of old age even as he is being born in another place.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “However…”

  “Be careful, wizard,” Karn said in an icy voice.

  “I know my danger,” Thuramon said. “I dared not tell him more than I did, but what I said was truth, as he can see. He has seen the slaves and the filth, and the death you bring always with you.”

  “One thing he has not seen.” Karn said. He stood up. “That I shall show him.”

  “No!”

  A high, petulant voice, coming from nowhere; Karn’s mouth set in a hard line.

  “Hawi!”

  “Give him to me.” the voice said. “I’ll teach him so much, about pleasure, and pain… he will not die, I promise you.”

  “You fool,” Karn said to the empty air. “Did you not learn, the last time? You will kill him, sooner or later, and it will be all to do over again. We should have to wait, again, and it might be that we would be beaten back, while we waited. I’m taking him to the room. He will see for himself.”

  “I won’t let you,” said the voice. “I want him.”

  “Ess shall judge!” Karn shouted.

  “Ess sleeps,” the voice said, jeeringly. “I knew the day would come when we’d see who was strongest. Are you ready, great Karn?”

  The face of Karn grew hard as iron; he turned, slowly, and cried out a single word. There was a sound like the tearing of a great sail… and he vanished.

  All of us stood frozen, for a moment. Then, we heard the struggle begin.

  But perhaps “heard” is not the right word. There were no sounds to the ear, but waves of something more than sound seemed to pass through that room, an echoing crash of forces that shook us with terror. The room itself seemed to shift and move, the lamps swayed.

  “Kavin.” It was Hawi’s voice, again.

  “Kavin. Look at the wall.” The voice was almost a woman’s but not quite; it was sweet, but somehow foul.

  The wall shimmered, and images floated there. I saw Isa, in a hundred shapes; her face, mingled with the faces of others, and a thousand other images I cannot describe. They were the images of feeling, not of solid things; and there are no words. Yet I stared, shuddering. And somewhere, the thunder of that other combat rolled on.

  “She is of my own people.” the voice of Hawi said. “I am like her; in my world, we knew more of the mysteries of love than you. You knew me, in her, and you were drawn…”

  And at that, I laughed aloud, coarsely.

  “Oh, come now!” I said. “You sound like a sailor’s wench. Go back to your play, Hawi. I intend to see the mystery of this thing for myself.”

  The voice shrieked in rage. Somewhere, the psychic struggle exploded again, and now we heard audible sounds; a crackling, and a strange whistling note. Then, suddenly, silence.

  After several minutes, I spoke.

  “A long wait to be killed,” I said. “Thuramon, I’ll have a guess. Do you think they’ve slain each other?”

  He seemed to like the thought.

  “Well, then, the mystery,” I said. “A room, that king said. I feel, somehow, that we should find it.”

  Thuramon looked at me. “That room would be in the place where… Ess sleeps. It would be the safest place, they would think.”

  “And we have an appointment with Ess, too, do we not?” I said. I looked about the great room. “Thuramon. I feel… strange. Do I seem as if… as if a new spell is on me?”

  He shook his head. “There’s no such magic here.”

  “Still…” I brushed my hand across my forehead. “I know this place. I know what halls lead to the place where Ess sleeps. Why? How can I know this?”

  “Ask not why,” Caltus said, sharply. “We still live. Let’s go on.”

  “On,” I said, in an odd voice. “Always on. I’m tired, do you know that? I’d like to sit down. But I can’t, so…”

  Thuramon stared at me oddly, but said nothing.

  I went through the door, and they followed. Like so many sheep, I thought. Why, I should have led an army here, not such a little band of fumblers.

  The way was clearer still, now. I knew that the halls of Karn lay behind us, and we now passed through the domain of Hawi; here, the lights shifted strangely in color, and strange perfumes moved through the air.

  “How is that we have seen no servants, no guards?” Caltus wondered aloud.

  “We…” I stopped, and began again. “They needed none. All here is the work of wisdom: machines and art. To be served by human hands is to be betrayed.”

  “You seem to know much about this place, Lord Prince.” Caltus said.

  “I…” I stopped, and stared at him. “I am your king. Prince?”

  “Lord Kavin…” Daron said. “Are you…”

  “I lead fools, it seems,” I said. “And here’s another fool, gained his reward.”

  We had entered another highroofed passage; and in its midst, a man lay on his back, blood pooling under him. It was Karn. But not quite dead, it seemed; as I leaned over him, his eyes opened.

  “Do you know me, glutton?” I asked, and his eyes widened.

  “You… have returned.” He closed his eyes, groaning. “I killed Hawi. But… for nothing… it seems. You…” and he was silent.

  I kicked him lightly, to make sure; then I went forward to the end of the passage. It seemed a blank wall of brickwork; but I made a movement of my hand, and went on through. The others came silently behind; and I could feel their growing fear of me. It was a pleasing sensation.

  And here, in a dimmer light, was the anteroom of hell itself. Before us, black and solid, stood the great sealed door behind which slept Ess himself. And in the space before the door, there lay a huge bronze sarcophagus, inscribed in ancient, crooked letters.

  I put my hand on its lid, looking down at it, with a growing sensation of horror. I remembered how, for the last half hour, I had been… another. Those were not my thoughts; that was not my voice. And worst of all… I was not standing here, looking down at a bronze casket. I was within that casket, looking up into darkness.

  I must have gone white, as if I had been bled; I swayed, nearly falling. Thuramon seized my arm, fiercely.

  “Prince Kavin!” His grip tightened. “Ah! You are Kavin again.”

  “What witch’s work
is this?” Caltus snapped, coming closer. “Thuramon! Have you betrayed us? Is our Prince possessed of devils?”

  “Not by my doing,” Thuramon said. “But I dared not interfere. He is possessed, but not by a devil. Open this casket, and you’ll see what possesses him.”

  Two of the men struggled with the heavy lid, and drew it off at last. I stood back, the contents invisible from where I stood… but the others crowded forward to look.

  “Who is he?” Caltus stared first at me, and then down. “Is he kin?”

  “He is myself,” I said, holding my sanity with an effort.

  “This is the moment at which you must decide, Prince.” Thuramon said. “Now, I may tell you the rest. He who lies here was once greater than both those others. It was he who ruled all their worlds, and more beside. He was… not killed, but as near to killed as one of his sort could be. Yet, by his power, something of himself stayed with the body, against all laws of life and death, against the gods themselves. But even he could not escape the Law of the Wheel. He died, in some sense; and therefore, he was reborn. Again and again he has sought life, and again and again he has failed to reunite the mighty mind that lies here, bound, with the new life of his reborn self. Now… you are here.”

  “I feel his mind.” I said. “He is myself, and not myself.”

  “If you receive him, you will become as he was, with all he knew; and with all that he was.” Thuramon said. “More than a man, nearly a god. But… I have no right to say.”

  “Power,” I said. I walked forward, and stared down into the box, at my own face, lined with age, marked with evil… but my own. And filled with wisdom, too, it was.

  Then, my own self flooded back into me; and I felt the hand of Macha touch my face again.

  “I think I’ve had enough of such power.” I said. “Put back his lid, and let him rot. If I once wore that body, I need it no longer.”

  I felt a wave of relief from all of them, and Thuramon looked at me, nearly weeping.

  “You won,” he said, in a croaking voice. “Prince, you have won.”

  Then the black door creaked slowly open, and the light in the outer chamber dimmed to a thick red. And from somewhere, deep within, came a whiff of icy air, and an odor of decay… and a hollow voice.

  “I’m afraid not,” it said. “Come to me, little one. Come into the hall of Ess.”

  Fifteen

  I stood alone, in a red darkness. Somewhere, I could not tell how far away, floated a glowing spark… an eye. Other than that, I could see nothing, but I felt tendrils, like a drift of seaweed, touching me sometimes.

  “Explain to me, human, how it was that you refused to receive your earlier self,” the voice said musingly. “Would not… completion… have pleased you?”

  “No,” I said. I found it very difficult to move at all; my hand moved with maddening slowness, toward my belt pouch.

  “Very strange,” Ess said. “This will delay my work in your world a little… but only a little. The gate stands now; I can call other servants to me. Now, you…”

  I stood on the deck of the Luck again, a brisk breeze filling her sails; salt spray of the Doradan shore, whipped my face. We would fetch Astorin town by nightfall.

  Astorin was never burned and sacked; the towers of Granorek stood firm. The forests still grew on the hills…

  “How very interesting,” Ess said. “Let us play more of these altered lives…”

  “No!” I cried out. And the thing in the dark laughed.

  “But would you not like to live in another way? Would you not like to have me send you back, to live again in your barbarous land, a simple savage again? I can give you years of such living…”

  “A lie,” I said. “Dreams. And why do you wish to favor me?”

  “No, not lies,” Ess said. “I can make time over, if I choose.”

  Once again, I lived through moments, through hours and days… of places that could no longer even exist. Yet, it seemed real. And then, Ess spoke again.

  “As to why I do this… why, how can so simple an organism as you are comprehend my pleasures? How can you know what cruelty really is, for example, or how such as you may… feed such as I?”

  But I knew, and I had struggled. He had not drained as much life from me as he thought. And as he spoke, he began to loosen the grip he held on my movements.

  “Time, small creature…” He paused. “Why, time passes as fast as I wish it to. If I…”

  And then at last I had it out; one of the bronze ball lamps, found in those moldering ruins so long ago. I raised it high, as if it had weighed a hundredweight, and pressed it into life. The crystal flared, with the brightness of a small sun; and something shrieked with a pain beyond human comprehension.

  For a brief moment, I saw Ess, in light, as no man has ever seen such a creature. He… or it… hung in midair, burning to death, his single eye bent upon me.

  And I whirled away, down a dark corridor of space, into total blackness and silence.

  I found myself lying face down, sprawled on the floor of that hideous chamber; my hand still clutched the lamp, whose brilliant flare still lit the place. But there was nothing at all of Ess, unless something fibrous that lay scattered on the chamber floor could be his remains.

  I got to my feet, with difficulty, and went to the great black door, pushing it open. Outside, I paused, in shocked surprise.

  Light poured down from a gigantic hole in the roof; sunlight, and ice cold air. Snow lay in drifts, over the bronze casket, hiding the piled wreckage of the place. The farther wall was also torn open, and I could see beyond, to a waste of broken brick and stone. The entire building seemed to have been ravaged in some giant storm.

  But of my friends, not a trace.

  I went through the room, quickly, searching; not a sign of struggle, or of a body, so they had not been set upon here. And the snow… it mystified me, somehow. Was it possible that I had lain in the chamber of Ess for days… weeks?

  That though became more urgently likely as I went on, seeing the ruin that lay all about. I could not find the chamber through which we had entered, nor any living creature anywhere; not even the staircase we had used. But I found a narrow ramp, and clambered down in that fashion, level by level, until I emerged at last, through a gap in the wall, out onto the valley floor.

  At that moment, I knew I was right; I must have been in that room for many days, held in a magical trance as Ess died. My friends had thought me dead, then; they had possibly not been able to open the door, and had finally gone.

  For the valley was a dead place, too. That skeletal gateway no longer flashed blue light; the chimneys were fallen, and the sky was clear. Thick white snow drifted across the whole valley, and there were no tracks of men anywhere. The slaves too had fled; here and there I saw empty, fallen huts.

  I was weak, and a strange fever made me incapable of sharp thought; all that I wished now was to return to Koremon, if I could. The track up the valley wall looked unlikely, so I sought another way, and found one. Past the wreck of that structure called the gate, I found a rising path through the hills, and a roadway beyond.

  A day later, I was beginning to stagger, from fever and hunger, and the empty mountains were an evil place to die, I thought. But I came on a camp of men, who seemed to be herders; they had many cattle, feeding in a mountain valley. They were small, shaggy men, who spoke no language I could recognize, but who greeted me with wonder and friendliness. Here I rested a few days; then, I offered to give them my steel dagger, which they admired greatly, for a horse. Our trading was done by signs, but with success: I went on, fed and rested, and riding that small hairy pony, toward Koremon.

  The journey back was longer than the first; I was alone, and the pony was not as strong as my stallion Gold. I thought of that handsome beast, and wondered if he had been taken back, with my friends; and then, of my sons, and of Isa, and Samala. They would have been told of my death, I presumed. There would be mourning, and now, great joy… and then,
wondering, I thought of Macha Emrinn.

  She, of all the party, would have sought a way to me. She would have known, with her strange powers, that I still lived… or maybe not. Maybe I had seemed truly dead, to all. But where had she gone? Back to whatever world of invisibles had given her birth, or toward that plain of grass where we had found her?

  Then, in the dawn of another day, I came down over the last hills, toward the land of Koremon. In the morning mists, I saw the tops of great trees, and the faint gleam of the sea beyond.

  The shaggy pony whickered happily as he saw clumps of grass beside the path, and I dismounted to let him crop. Sitting on a fallen tree, I stared down toward Koremon, watching the mist rise.

  They had worked very swiftly while I was gone, I saw; I could see a new road, a broad highway that crossed the land toward the distant sea. I could see… no, they could not have done so much, I thought, staring harder. Villages, roads… the cold thought came suddenly. How long had I been away?

  In a pool of water in a ditch, I knelt to study my face. It was my own, unchanged, unlined by age. Time had passed me by, it seemed. But at the thought, I felt as though I had been stunned with a blow to the head. All my friends, and Isa, and Samala… they would be older. How much older? Or had this evil magic gone so far that I would be unremembered, a ghost in my own land? Maybe I was a ghost, I thought, with a shudder. Or, all this might be some evil dream.

  At that thought, I stood up, clenching my fists. I had been flung into my own past, for a moment, by that demon… and now, perhaps this was another trick. I might be dreaming.

  But I could not convince myself. There was too much air of reality about this, to be a dream. I mounted my pony again, and rode on, through the land of Koremon toward the sea.

  On that long ride, I had time to think, and make such plans as I could. Only yesterday, by my own time, I had been Kavin, a prince and ruler. Now, I was a man in a ragged cloak and rusty armor, riding through a land of strangers.