by Martin Ash
Simultaneously the ring of black fire flared, just momentarily, and issued a noise like a far-off angry wind. Time stood still. The black flames trembled, became jagged and brittle in appearance. They began to entwine themselves around the glowing rose blade within them. The entire mass of encircling black flames gathered and began to pour, howling and whistling, into the sword. The sword jerked violently. Leth was thrown off his feet, losing his grip on the hilt. He landed on his back and could only stare, his mouth agape inside the helm.
Ascaria was writhing and thrashing. She was losing her form. Waves of fleshy substance flowed towards the ground and melted into the ichorous pool at her feet. She was half her former size now, and diminishing, bellowing incoherent ear-shattering protests as she went. The Orbsword jerked and twitched within the black flames, held up by its own force. And the flames were no longer flames. They had become a mass forming into a ring of sooty shapeless cloud, which sighed and wailed as it was sucked into the blade of the Sword of the Orb. Within moments nothing was left of the great wall of vibrant black fire that had surrounded the Kancanitrix. The last wisps and tails of black were drawn to the glowing blade, their sound fading as they vanished into it like smoke drawn into a vacuum.
And beyond where the flames had been, in the centre of the red lake, Ascaria's bulk subsided. It was no longer a recognizable form. Her mouth remained, a dark pit in the amorphous sweating bulb that had been her head, the lips forming sounds which emerged as a slurping, rumbling lament, then a feeble, plaintive wet moan, then nothing. She diminished, merging into the foul red pool of her substance, which rippled and lapped and then was still. All that could be heard now was the background drone of the tumbling cataract across the cavern.
Dazed, Leth climbed slowly to his feet. He was weaponless, but the goles and Acolytes no longer menaced him, nor the child-warriors. The cacosas had vanished or been destroyed with the vanquishing of the Dark Flame. The goles had dropped their weapons and stood in disconsolate postures, silent and lifeless. The Acolytes and children, likewise, appeared to have lost all life and motivation. They shuffled silently to and fro, but made no move towards Leth.
Leth stared at the Orbsword.
'Don't touch it, Swordbearer!'
It was Rasgul who spoke. He was descending the bluff behind Leth, via a steep twisting walkway. He limped, his body gashed and bloodied. He came forward across the flat paved floor and laid his hand on Leth's shoulder. 'You did it!'
'We did it,' Leth corrected him.
Another voice hailed Leth from above and behind: 'Ha! A splendid show, Swordbearer! Absolutely marvellous! Your mother would be proud of you!'
Count Harg was coming down the same pathway, some distance behind Rasgul. As he approached Leth saw that he was hobbling too, and his face was streaked with blood, grime and sweat. Leth looked past him. At the lip of the bluff some of the warrior-children were visible. No longer showing signs of hostility, some stood, some sat or squatted passively, as if lost. Leth wondered how many had died.
As Harg drew close Leth said, 'Where are the others? Juson and Huuri?'
'They did not get this far,' Harg replied, and halted, grimacing, his body slightly twisted, evidently in some pain. Then he gave a thin smile. 'She is gone.'
Leth nodded to himself, still hardly believing. He looked across at the pool of pink slew, and realized that it was slowly draining or evaporating away. The Orbsword rested before him, hovering vertically in the air as if by some force of its own. The radiant blade pulsed, and within its surface Leth saw that its colour was now marred with mingling, fluxing tones of red and black.
'Why should I not touch it?'
'It may be that the force of what it has absorbed will be too great,' Rasgul replied. 'We should wait a while and see.'
Leth looked at the great cavern around him, and suddenly snapped into a re-awareness of why he had come.
The children!
He spun and began to make his way with long swift strides around the circumference of the lake, where the wall of black fire had raged. He shouldered through the uncomplaining Acolytes and goles, Count Harg hobbling behind him. Leth grabbed a discarded falchion as he went, not yet ready to believe that all was safe. He made for the far side of the circle, to the area from which he had seen Ascaria take her victims.
He arrived to find himself standing on a slightly raised area, looking down into an enclosure, ringed by high stone walls. At the back was a rough shelter of sorts. Gazing up from him out of the enclosure were children, fifty or more. Their eyes were wide, their expressions expectant, stunned, frightened. But their eyes shone, and some of them were crying. They could feel, they could think and imagine. Soon they would be able to dream again.
A short flight of steps hewn into the stone led down to a gate letting into the enclosure. Leth thrust the falchion into his belt and slowly descended, anxiously, fearfully scanning the mass of pale faces peering up at him, scarcely able to breathe. His heart pounded painfully against his ribcage; his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.
'It's all right. It's all right,' he reassured the frightened children softly as he descended. He opened the gate. The children shrank back. More began to shiver and sob. 'It's all right now. You are safe. No one will harm you.'
He moved among them, examining every cowed face, trying to reassure them as he went. His anxiety mounted, almost choking him. He worked his way through, then back, silently pleading, but in the end he reached the rear of the enclosure and Galry and Jace were not present.
He peered beneath the low wooden roof of the shelter. In the dense shadows in one corner there was a huddle of bodies. Leth bent under the roof and moved towards them. The children tried to scramble away. He reassured them with quiet murmurs, his hands held open, and moved close. They were five in number, a couple of them almost too weak to move. The shadows were deep and Leth could not make out their faces. He brought them one by one towards the light, holding their hands, but in the end his own were not there.
With a great, heavy sigh Leth sagged to the ground, his back against the wall, vaguely aware of many young eyes upon him.
Numb, empty. Where might they be? Up above? Slain? Out on the plain beyond the Fortress, dead shells, starvelings, corpses? His eyes closed as he tried to blot out the images and the weight that bore him down.
*
'Swordbearer?'
Rasgul had entered the enclosure. He stood in the light, bent, his hand upon the shelter-roof, peering in.
Slowly Leth began to rise.
'They are not here?'
Leth shook his head.
'I am sorry.'
Leth looked into that savage, pale face, and for a moment saw emotion there, a genuine sadness. But he could not speak. He cast his eyes once more around the shelter, then found the strength to say, 'We must do something for these who have survived.'
Rasgul nodded and moved away. Still bent beneath the low roof, Leth moved to follow him. His eyes were better adjusted to the gloom now. As he passed back into the enclosure something caught his eye. He ducked back, peering hard into the shadows. A small pile of sacking or something occupied one dark rear corner of the shelter. Leth crept towards it. It was discarded clothing and filthy rags, and he pulled it aside, only to discover nothing but scuttling insects beneath.
He sighed, fighting back the tears and the will-sapping anguish that felt like it could rip him apart. He prayed that it would; he had no desire to carry on.
There was a small movement in the dark, near to the level of his bowed head. Leth tensed, staring hard into the blackness. He made out a narrow recess between wall and roof, which the darkness had concealed. He pushed his face closer, heard another tiny shift of something.
Leth moved closer, cautiously, grasping the hilt of his falchion. Now he saw something within, pale and shapeless. A movement! Then a voice: 'Stay back!'
It was the voice of a child. In the deep, dusty gloom Leth spied a small, round, pale and filthy face, the gl
int of wide, fierce, frightened eyes. A little white fist clutched a short stick, which the child thrust at Leth.
'Stay back! If you touch her I will kill you!'
Now, behind the first face, Leth saw a second, another child, cowering on its belly deep in the recess. The first child, also prone in the narrow space, had his arm thrown protectively in front of the first.
A wave of emotion flooded up from somewhere deep within Leth's core, and burst from in a great, uncontrolled sob.
'Keep away!'
'Galry! Jace!' Leth could barely frame the words, so intense were his feelings, and such pride at the brave little boy who in his darkest, most terrified moments, thought first of protecting his infant sister's life. 'Galry! Jace!' He wept, the tears flooding involuntarily from his eyes and coursing down his cheeks. And suddenly he remembered that he still wore the helm; the children could not see his face.
Leth tore the helm from his head and fell to his knees, sobbing out loud and throwing wide his arms. 'My babies! It is me! Your father! I have found you! Oh, praise all the spirits, I have found you!'
ELEVEN
i
For long minutes they clung to each other, all three sobbing with the joy and relief of their longed-for reunion. They were afraid to let go, fearful that the moment might not be true, nothing more than a dream, and that to let go would mean to be cast back into the horrors that had preceded it, separated once more. Leth's emotion poured out of him unchecked as he revelled in the sensation of his children’s vital warm little bodies in his arms again. When at last he rose and carried them both out of the shelter he found Rasgul at the head of the steps outside the enclosure, looking down and smiling, his own orange-brown eyes glistening with tears.
There were no words to be said. Leth ascended the steps; Rasgul reached out and squeezed his shoulder. Leth stood and gazed around the vast cavern, realizing for the first time that the bloodlight was fading.
'What now?' he said at length. 'Are we safe here?'
'No one will attack us now that she is no more,' Rasgul said.
'What of the cloud that she was about to send forth?'
'It died with her.'
'Can you be so sure?'
'Even if she had released it before she passed, it requires her living force to guide it,' Rasgul said. 'Whatever happened, it will have broken and dispersed now.'
Leth nodded. He looked down at the forlorn faces of the children in the enclosure, and at the others, the unfortunate ones about the cavern. 'We must do something for them.'
'We will do what we can.'
Galry's body had grown slack and heavy. Leth smiled and kissed his head. He had fallen asleep. Jace too was nodding against Leth's chest. Their nightmare was past; safe in their father's arms they could allow exhaustion to finally overcome them. But for Leth the realization was returning that the nightmare was far from over.
They were in an alien world. They did not know how to get back home. And there remained Urch-Malmain.
Had he gone now that Ascaria was destroyed? Had he stepped through his portal in the basement of the Tower of Glancing Memory, to wreak havoc and mischief upon the world of Enchantment's Reach?
And what of the portal that, by Lakewander's and Master Protector's account, Ascaria had guarded somewhere here in the Fortress of the Dark Flame - the portal that would return Leth to his own domain?
Leth looked around him. 'Where’s Harg?'
Rasgul nodded towards the great cataract. 'He went over there.'
Still carrying the children Leth began to cross towards the tumbling wall of water. Its noise resounded now, filling the cavern. Beside the river that it formed was a rocky pathway leading to an entrance in the rock. This Leth followed and found himself peering into a curving passage towards a dim green luminescence obscured by the angle of the rock. A short way down Leth found a small round chamber, and there he came upon Count Harg kneeling before a glowing circular device on the floor, engraved with complex symbols. The air above the device shimmered with a rippling blue-green intensity.
In Harg's hand was the small palm-held silver instrument which Leth had glimpsed when they rode out from the Tower of Glancing Memory. With it he was adjusting and realigning a series of small knobs and fluted dish-like depressions set around the rim of the circular contraption, at the same time consulting a chart laid before him on the ground. He glanced up as Leth entered. 'Just a moment, Swordbearer.'
'What are you doing?'
'I am-- Just one more. Yes, that does it, I think!' He eyed the chart once more. 'Indeed, perfect.'
He touched one of the circular depressions, then gathered up the chart and stood stiffly, sighing with the pain of his injuries. The blue-green haze above the device began to flicker; a quiet, distant hissing, buzzing noise was audible. The hazy luminescence became smoky, then slowly changed to become dominantly magenta in hue. The sound died away as the purple-pink smoke stabilized.
Count Harg nodded to himself in satisfaction. 'Yes, that's done the trick.'
'What is this? What have you done?' demanded Leth.
'What have I done? I have established our way back.' Harg's smalt gaze fell upon the two sleeping children cradled in Leth's arms. He smiled emotionlessly. 'You have found your little ones. Marvellous. That brings me great joy.'
'Way back? To where?'
'Why, to the Tower of Glancing Memory, of course.'
'This is the portal, isn't it?' said Leth, heatedly. 'This is the way that Ascaria guarded.'
'That is so.'
'And what have you done? You have tampered with it?'
'Tampered? No. I have acted in accordance with Master Urch-Malmain's instructions. He is anxious for us to return. He wishes to speak with you again.'
'Where did it lead prior to your modifications?'
Count Harg gave him a mocking look and drew in air through his teeth. 'Who really can say?'
'I was told it was the way back to my own land.'
'And you would have stepped in, would you? Blindly? Trustingly? With your darling children? I think not, Swordbearer. It could have taken you anywhere, anywhere at all. Or nowhere.'
'And I am to believe you that your adjustments have now rendered it safe and reliable?'
'Oh, I think you will. After all, I am going to use it myself. Good Master Urch is very keen to see you again. He awaits you now. Farewell, then. I will see you on the other side.'
So saying Harg turned and stepped onto the device. The magenta haze shimmered and flared. Harg's image remained within it for a moment, then flashed briefly and was gone.
Leth stared as the haze regathered itself. He heard a breath close behind him, and turned. Rasgul stood there.
'Do you go, Swordbearer?'
'I don’t know.'
Long moments passed. Something sputtered in the haze. A square of paper appeared out of nothing and fluttered to the floor before the circle. Setting the sleepy children down, Leth stepped forward and picked up the paper. Upon it was a scrawled message:
'It is really very pleasant here at Glancing Memory. Please come. Urch-Malmain is preparing a celebratory banquet in your honour. He is most pleased with your success. We await you . . .
Harg.'
EPILOGUE
Leth’s choices are few.
One way or another he must do as Count Harg bids: return with his children to Urch-Malmain's Tower of Glancing Memory. There he will discover what Urch-Malmain has in mind, and perhaps learn whether there is a way by which he can now return safely to Enchantment's Reach.
But if so, what will be the true cost of allowing Urch-Malmain to run free again?
And will Leth ever be reunited with the woman he loves, his young Queen and the mother of his children, Issul?
Elsewhere, Issul has passed through the portal of the Farplace Opening, into, so she believes, Triune's tower within Enchantment. With Shenwolf and Orbelon at her side, she faces greater unknowns and untold perils.
The Karai muster; the Lege
ndary Child mocks and jeers and gathers his strength.
Can Enchantment's Reach be saved?
This story is told in:
Enchantment’s Reach 5
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With thanks,
Martin Ash
Table of Contents
Copyriight
Other works by Martin Ash in eBook
ONE
TWO
THREE
FOUR
FIVE
SIX
SEVEN
EIGHT
NINE
TEN
ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
