by Martin Ash
"As a man speaks to a beast, or a god to a man, knowing the lower creature cannot comprehend! There was nothing to be told to one such as you, Leth."
"Preferable to be an outlaw, then. Preferable to face a sentence of death, to allow one's own children to die for no good reason." Leth hesitated, saw the renewed fury in Venger's eyes. He shook his head. "This is not what I came to speak of. We must put personal differences to one side if we are to make any progress. The fact that you have agreed to meet me suggests that progress can be made. Let’s not, then, stand before one another as antagonists but as men seeking agreement, or a way to agreement, acknowledging a cause to which we are both committed, if perhaps in different ways. Let’s meet as men who each have something to give the other."
"You sent a woman, with word of the Legendary Child."
Leth nodded, relieved both that Venger had not known that it was Issul and that he was indicating a willingness to talk. "A child has been found dwelling in the woods. It has come to my attention by roundabout means, but there is no doubt that the child is not like normal children."
"That is all?"
"There are aspects to the child's background, which I cannot at present divulge, that raise many questions. I and others find ourselves compelled to believe that this may be the Legendary Child. Only you can confirm or deny this."
He walked on fragile ground, for he knew nothing of the Child's background. Again he wished that Issul had told him more. Issul, why were you so secretive? It’s not like you. What did you know that you couldn't tell even me?
Venger was appraising him closely. "Where is this child now?"
"My men were bringing him into custody. They were attacked by a Karai forward unit. The child escaped."
Venger gave a harsh hoot of laughter. "Hah! Do you expect me to believe that? You are a bigger fool than even I had believed, King Leth!"
"It is the truth, Venger. Can you really afford not to believe it? If so, then I’ll take my leave now, acknowledging that my endeavour has been fruitless. But I believe you more perspicacious than that. I’ve come to you with open hands, seeking your help, your knowledge and expertise. My troops scour the forest for this child, but I need to know what he is. And if he has fallen into the hands of the Karai, what then?"
The mocking smile vanished. "Were the Karai seeking him?"
"I don’t know. The evidence suggests not. They are here to harass and terrorize. I don’t believe they came for the child. But do the Karai know of the Legendary Child, Venger? Is he important to them?"
"He is important to all, if he has truly come."
"How? How is he important?"
But Venger would be drawn no further. He folded his arms upon his chest. "So, then, Leth, you had the Child and you have lost him. What is it that you seek from Grey Venger?"
"I’ve already told you that."
"But if I tell you, you will not believe me! You deny the True Sept its creed!"
"Let me decide what to believe. Answer my questions, Venger, that’s all. Tell me the secret of the Legendary Child. Tell me what he is, what his aim is. Should I continue to search for him?"
"The secret? Yes, you are right. I know secrets. Fantastic secrets. Secrets you cannot even imagine. But I can’t pass them to the godless."
"Not even when the time is right? When the Child is here? We must help each other, Venger. If you can’t see that, you will remain an outcast, and the Child will be lost, or will wreak its destruction unopposed."
"I have told you my conditions. And I know you have invoked Emergency. Did you think I would be fooled by that?"
Leth shook his head. "If I wanted to entrap you, I would have invoked Emergency when I had you in my grasp, not before. Surely you can see that? Emergency is necessary now because circumstances demand. I had no choice. But I could have delayed it. I could have used it to catch you. No, I have played an open hand. That is my way of letting you know I am sincere."
Grey Venger scoffed again. "Sincere! You are the godless; we are the Righteous. Your sincerity is meaningless, toxic!"
"Then you will not help?"
"I have said, you know my conditions."
"I can’t grant you permanent immunity, nor restore the Sept. The law will not permit it, and were I to attempt to change it at this time I would have insurrection on my hands. Your rivals want you dead, or imprisoned or, as you are, outlawed. You became too powerful, Venger. You made an error of judgement when you attempted to kill me. It was your downfall. The other factions will not permit you to rise again, unless. . . ."
Venger's eyes were slits. "Unless what?"
"If your secrets are true, if you have real knowledge of the Legendary Child, knowledge that can be employed to the benefit of the realm, then. . . . I can make no absolute promises, but if you can help to stem this great tide, this menace that has risen against us, then no one could reasonably deny you your place in society. Things might change. Give up your secrets so that they can be used for the greater good, and you will earn my gratitude and support. Consider what this means to you, Venger. You purport to know what it means to have this Child born in our midst. Well, enlighten us and share our endeavour. Or hold on to your secrets, and never know the Child, and never know liberty again. I can say only that together we may have hope."
"Hope?"
"It’s perhaps all that’s left to us."
Grey Venger assumed a haughty expression. "That is the admission of a weak man."
"No, it the admission of a man who has been taken to the furthest limit, who has seen that there is still a beyond. A man who knows that without shared knowledge we are doomed. I can say no more, Venger. I will leave you now. But think on what I have said. I believe you will see that there is no other way. Apply to me then. You will be given safe escort."
Leth turned, bending to climb back down the rope ladder. As he did so he felt a strange impulse. Uncannily he had moved as if to raise his arm, as if his hand clasped a stout staff. For a heartbeat he had felt that he could cast Grey Venger from him.
He stopped, his eyes met Venger's.
"Begone, Leth," Venger said. Leth could read nothing in his expression. Venger stepped back three paces and vanished into a ragged black fissure in the rock.
V
And as the sun had set on that same evening, as King Leth was entering Overlip, Anzejarl, Prince of the Karai, stood upon the crest of a low ridge, gazing across a wide valley at the fires that burned in Giswel Holt. He could see a tower ablaze, perhaps a second, and numerous smaller buildings in the township that clustered about the castle's great walls.
The breeze ruffled Anzejarl's dark hair and his long grey cloak billowed about his ankles. He nodded to himself in brooding acknowledgement of an objective achieved, moodily chewing a mouthful of ghinz, drawing free the bitter juice from the mashed leaves and swallowing. From overhead came a sound of rushing, beating, irregular wind. Anzejarl raised his searing Karai eyes and made out winged shapes, opaque against the darkening sky. As many as fifty slooths were plying their way back towards the woods behind him. He heard distant cries in the air above; pathetic human sounds.
When the slooths had passed Prince Anzejarl turned and marched down the slope to his command pavilion pitched in a hollow beside a twisting brook.
Inside the pavilion Olmana reclined upon pillows. She was robed in a single sheer silken garment of deep damask, open at the front and belted with a fine gold cincture. Anzejarl seated himself upon a stool, his eyes greedy at the sight of her.
"Has it been successful?" Olmana enquired, sipping red wine.
Anzejarl nodded. "They have experienced their first taste of terror. In the morning my scouts will report the scale of the damage. It will not be massive. Fires are burning but they will be quickly doused. However, the effect will be as desired. Giswel Holt has met slooths for the first time."
The plan had been simple but innovative. The first rank of slooths gripped in their talons sacks filled with flammable oil. Over the
town and castle they released them so that they burst on rooftops and streets. Immediately behind came slooths with long, flaming firebrands in their beaks. Swooping down in the wake of the first wave, they dropped the brands onto the oil, igniting it to cause maximum disruption. Then all had swooped upon townsfolk and soldiers as they rushed to fight the flames.
"Are any slooths lost?" Olmana asked.
"Few, if any. I heard cries - at least some have brought back children."
Anzejarl closed his eyes.
"Does that trouble you, Anzejarl?"
"Trouble me?" His wrinkled white brow creased further. "Until recently I would have had no understanding of such a concept. Now. . . ." He shook his head and sighed. "I have no love for this."
"You tire of your gift, after all it has brought you?"
"Gift? You may call it that, Olmana. I would use a different term."
"You regret all that you have accomplished?"
"Regret is another term I would not previously have used or understood. I cannot say that I experience regret, but within me there is unease of a kind I have not known until now."
Olmana smiled, shifting her body. She raised one knee so that her silken garment fell away and exposed her naked thigh. "Surely it is not all so bad, Anzejarl?"
Anzejarl eyes travelled lustfully over the pale flesh, then he looked into her face. "What is your gift, Olmana? You have made me like them, that is all."
"I have made you a champion of your people, Anzejarl. I have given you the ability to have everything you could ever possibly desire. You are a leader like none before you. A great conqueror beneath whom all the lands of the Mondane and Enchantment's Reach will soon lie. Feel it, Anzejarl. Do not weep for the children who die, for they are insignificant. Feel what is truly there, what you have never felt before."
"I fear being overwhelmed by it. The gift is a wonder, but it is also almost too much to bear."
"You have the ghinz to blunt its edges. Soon, as you accustom, you will not need that anymore. You will need nothing." She rose and came to him, stood before him and put her hands around his neck drawing his head towards her breasts. "Nothing, except for me. Is it so terrible, Anzejarl, to be the supreme conqueror, the greatest champion, the most excellent lover?"
He inhaled the perfumes of her body, delighting in the smooth warm softness of her breast against his cheek. One hand rose to caress it, his fingers seeking the erect nipple; the other stroked her thigh, then came to rest upon the hot silken soft dampness between her thighs.
"Do you truly wish me to take it all away?" Olmana whispered.
His eyes closed, he shook his head, his senses reeling. Olmana placed her legs over his and lowered herself onto his lap. She kissed his eyes, his cheeks, his lips, his neck. "Is it truly so awful to be like them?"
Anzejarl drew her to him with a soft moan.
She smiled. "I have awoken you, Anzejarl. That is my gift. Through me you may conquer all. Accept it. Revel in it. Profit from it. Truly, this is only the beginning."
*
Later, when Anzejarl slept, Olmana crept from the bed to a small wooden chest at the back of the pavilion. She lifted the lid, delved into her clothing within, and drew forth a green velvet pouch. Kneeling at the side of the Karai prince she took from the pouch a small crystal, pale rose in hue. This she held cupped in the palms of her two hands and, with her eyes closed, softly began to invoke a chant. After a moment the crystal started to glow, softly at first, then with a fiercer light, pulsing red, which radiated within the pavilion.
Had Prince Anzejarl opened his eyes at that moment he would have seen, bathed in the illumination of the pink crystal, not the face of the ravishing beauty with whom he had just spent his passion so pleasurably, but something else. Olmana's features had altered. Her skin had faded and drawn back to reveal grey knobbled flesh. A flat nasal orifice passed inward; a misshapen mouth like a wound of dead tissue, small wet grey teeth within. The eyes were inhuman slits, as red as the glowing crystal in her hands.
But Anzejarl slept soundly and hence was spared from seeing anything but the contents of his dreams.
Taking the burning crystal, Olmana held it carefully against the Karai prince's forehead. "So my gift is not enough, Anzejarl. Or it is too much. Ah well, soon you will have it no more. Then you will know misery. Then you will know regret. And you will beg for me. But not yet. Not yet. Not until our task is complete."
Slowly the red radiance diminished, as though being drawn into Anzejarl's somnolent flesh. When the crystal glowed no more Olmana returned it to its pouch and concealed the pouch again in the chest. She returned to the bed and stood over the Karai prince, naked, gazing down upon him. Then she lowered herself until her terrible face was over his. With one hand she grasped his wrinkled cheeks and gently plied open his jaw.
"Not until your task is done."
She placed her lips above his. A long, slender, knobbled grey tongue snaked from between her teeth and slid into his mouth.
THREE
I
“Welcome to the true world, the many-named domain, where all things are possible.”
“Welcome to Enchantment.”
Issul struggled, helpless, her eyes upon the three strange child figures who stood before her. Was it true? How? She’d been standing with her comrades in the underground chamber in the Karai camp, standing before the brilliant oval. Now she was. . . where?
“Welcome to Enchantment.”
The identical white-haired children continued to appraise her, but she focused her gaze beyond, through the window at their backs. She seemed to be in a tower chamber, some distance above the ground. The air was visible, in constant motion, colours forming and altering, fusing, rippling, breaking up. It was beautiful to watch, mesmerizing but terrifying and bewildering too. Beyond were the mountain peaks, so close, and they seemed to blaze with an extraordinary fire.
"The unstill air," said one of children. Issul did not see which.
"Something always becomes," said another.
"Or strives to become," said the third.
"This is Creation."
"Energy of Potentia, transforming, seeking to be matter."
"All is possible here. The formed can be unformed, the unformed formed."
"Here is raw power. Here is dream. Here is magic."
"Here is Enchantment."
Issul swam supported in her globe of bluish vapour, panic threatening to overcome her. She strained again to look behind her for her companions, but she still could not turn. Somehow she was sure she was alone but for these three.
"Do not try to understand it," said the smallest child.
"Who are you?" Issul asked.
"We? We are Triune. Once we were One, then we were made three but still one. We were broken and scattered, but we were not lost. We returned to become Triune, and soon we shall become One again."
Simultaneously all three children smiled at her, and in perfect concert blinked their unnaturally blue eyes.
"It may all have been a dream," said the middle child.
Issul frowned. "What?"
"Everything you have ever known, everything you recall. It may never have happened, or perhaps it has still to be. Tell us, tell Triune, how can you know?"
Issul began to flail, gasping in sudden terror, struck by the notion that she might somehow have gone utterly mad.
"This is Enchantment," said the taller child.
The middle child added, "This is the true world. Many-named, never known. You come here from the realized world, the world made real but not actual or true. This is the only truth."
"Please, please, stop," Issul cried, a great sob escaping her. "It’s too much. Please."
The three children, Triune, observed her with wide clear eyes, identical gynandrous faces expressionless. All three blinked again.
"She is confused."
"From the Reach."
"They always are."
"Is it better to release her?"
&nbs
p; "Perhaps it is best. For now. She is not ready, but she can teach us."
"Yes."
The tallest child stepped forward, extending a hand towards Issul. "This is for you."
She could not see what the child did, nor did she feel a physical touch. But she felt hope and with it came inquisitiveness. This was not madness, at least not madness as she had previously understood it. This was actually happening, to her, and she was not dreaming. It was too strange for words, but she had to know more.
"You may inform us," the child was saying. "Dream and bring Triune forth - we can be with you, but only briefly in the realized realm. Too much will sunder us; but with care it will help us towards reunion. We thank you for this."
None of it made sense to Issul's mind, and again she felt threatened, as though she was gripped in madness.
"Is this truly Enchantment?" she asked, seeking to seize some hold, however tenuous, on what she was witnessing. "How is it that I am here?"
"You came here. Through the Farplace Opening."
"In the chamber? The Karai chamber? Do you aid the Karai?" Another thought struck Issul just then, making her heart pound against her ribcage. "Triune - are you a god? Do you command the Karai against us?"
The three heads shook as one. "Triune has acquired the Farplace Opening from the one who aids the Karai. We guard it now, though we do not know for how long."
"But are you a god?"
"We are Triune. One, then three as one, broken and scattered, and soon One again. Do not try to understand."
"You say others have been here, before me?"
"Of course. Many have tried to enter Enchantment, by various means."
"What happened to them?"
"Some remain. All are changed forever."
"Remain? Where?"
"You must return now."
"No!" Issul was desperate to learn more, no matter her disorientation and the delirium that threatened to rob her of her mind. "I want to know!"
