by Sam Bowring
‘Hold!’ an edgy voice called out. A group of lightfists on horseback appeared from the darkness ahead, illuminated by their wards, with hands held ready to cast. Fahren cantered forward, conjuring an orb that lit him also, and particularly the Auriel.
‘Calm yourselves,’ he said. ‘The one you sense is Lord Battu, here under my protection.’
The lightfist leader squinted at Fahren – searching out any illusions, most probably – then bowed his head. ‘My Throne,’ he said.
Warily the lightfists lowered their hands, though several kept close watch on Battu. He shot one young lady a grin, and was amused to see her flinch.
‘My Throne,’ said the leader, ‘with all due respect …are you sure it’s safe to let him into the camp?’
Battu chuckled. ‘Why thank you, lad,’ he said, deliberately misunderstanding the lightfist’s words, ‘for your concern for my safety. I am sure, however, I’ll be all right once you put word about that I’m bound by the will of Arkus to help your sorry lot. And anyone who gets it into their head to seek me out for past misdeeds should realise that I provide better help when I’m alive, and nothing in my oath prevents me from defending myself.’
The leader stared at him a moment, then looked to Fahren, who gave a nod.
‘And now,’ said Fahren, ‘take us to Blade Bel.’
•
‘Bel,’ said Jaya. ‘Look.’
There, emerging from the front lines, smiling ear to ear and spreading his arms wide, was Fahren. Bel rose and jogged across the grass, joyous that the monotony was broken at last. As he reached Fahren he went to embrace him, but only got as far as clasping his shoulders, when he saw who followed behind, and froze.
It was a lot to take in at once.
Elessa Lanclara was just as he remembered her from her grave. Her white Overseer’s dress showed nothing of the time that had passed, or the hardship it had seen. Her blond hair – for a single moment he remembered it wet – hung free and vivid. Her bright eyes did not look dead. In fact, she was beautiful. In sharp contrast, next to her was Battu, a hulking figure with silken black hair, his once-pale skin now blotched with sunburn, his mouth twisting as if it could not decide where it wanted to be. Instantly Bel was fascinated by him, this man who had once been the greatest enemy of his people. It was Battu who had ordered him found when he’d been a baby, had sent Fazel forth to rip him apart, had raised his other off in Fenvarrow, had been defeated by Corlas at the Shining Mines …and who had sent the weaver to trick his father to the detriment of so many. Yet Bel’s deferred anger had always been for some distant shadowy figure, not this person alone amongst Kainordans, looking awkward and uncomfortable.
Side by side stood these two who had helped make him what he was, now here to serve him.
Not knowing quite how to behave, he reverted to an old mask. ‘Welcome!’ he said expansively, smiling. ‘I am Bel Corinas. Perhaps you’ve heard of me?’
Battu gave a half-chuckle. ‘Already I can tell you are different from Losara.’
‘Well,’ said Bel, ‘I should certainly hope so.’ He turned to Elessa. ‘Been a long time, Miss Lanclara,’ he said.
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘I cannot tell you,’ said Bel, ‘how grateful I am that you have come.’
Elessa glanced at Fahren, then nodded. ‘I will do what I can to help the people of the light,’ she said stiffly.
‘Throne!’ came a voice, and Brahl bustled out of the darkness. He stopped short, eyeing Battu warily.
‘It is all right, Gerent,’ said Fahren.
‘I know, I know,’ said Brahl. ‘Still, you cannot blame me for having reservations.’
‘You would be a fool not to,’ said Battu. ‘But as Fahren will assure you, I am a scorpion whose claws are bound.’
The gerent stroked his chin. ‘It is the tail that does the harm,’ he said. ‘Nonetheless you, in turn, are safe in camp. I have let it be known that anyone who puts a sword through you will get a very harsh rap on the knuckles.’
‘Come now,’ snapped Fahren, a hint of how frayed his nerves were, ‘let us not begin this way.’
Bel clapped his hands together. ‘Fahren is right,’ he said. ‘And there is much to discuss.’
‘Shall we retire to my camp?’ suggested Brahl. ‘I think it would be wise to get out of plain view.’
Soon they were sitting around Brahl’s fire. They were a strange collection indeed. For Bel it was the first time away from his own camp in days, Fahren erected some kind of spell to keep their conversation contained, but that did not stop others nearby from casting curious looks. Talking about what they would do the next day made it seem very real – finally , things were going to happen – and Bel constandly had to force himself to focus.
‘Next,’ said Fahren, and his gaze fell on the Stone around Bel’s neck, ‘we should speak about whether or not we attempt the …recombining …during the fighting.’
A ripple of nervousness went through Bel. It must have showed on his face, for Jaya took his hand.
‘And you are sure that’s what we must do?’ said Brahl.
‘Arkus was very clear,’ said Fahren. ‘There must be one champion – our champion.’
‘Then it should be tomorrow,’ muttered Battu. He had been quiet for some while, but their plans had not really involved him yet. Now all eyes turned to him. ‘To make best use of the surprise,’ he said. ‘We may not have another opportunity.’
Fahren nodded slowly. ‘Then we must somehow root Losara in place, where Bel can be near, long enough for us to cast the spell on them both.’
‘Tricky,’ said Battu. ‘He can travel in shadowform, which makes him hard to pin down. The only thing I can suggest is …’ he grimaced, ‘…a circle of light. One that encloses him completely.’
Fahren looked troubled. ‘He will be protected, no doubt, by his own mages. We’d need a whole host of lightfists to aid us, which would leave other parts of the army scarcely defended.’
‘If it yields the result we seek,’ said Bel, trying to sound assured, ‘it will be worth it. How long will the …process …take?’
‘Hard to know,’ said Fahren. ‘Battu and I must practise tonight with the Stone.’
Unconsciously Bel’s hand went to his neck. He had come to rely on the Stone’s protection, almost thought of it as a part of him now – but, he told himself, by the morrow’s end, perhaps he would not need it. Could he really believe such a thing? It seemed impossible, after all he’d been through, that the end might actually be in sight. And that that end, for him, was really a beginning, for he would finally become a complete person. What changes would be wrought? he wondered. Would they be small and unnoticeable, or greatly influencing? Would Losara blend with him peacefully, or would inner demons claw at him forever? Would he gain Losara’s magical talent? If so, how would that magic express itself? Not as shadow, surely. Fahren had said it was possible to convert souls from shadow to light, so maybe it was the same with magic.
‘May I see it, Bel?’
Slowly and reluctantly Bel removed the Stone and handed it over. Fahren considered it for a moment, passed his fingers over it, and frowned. He caught Bel watching closely, and slipped it into his robe. ‘You can have it back,’ he said. ‘Afterwards.’ He looked around at the rest of the group. ‘So. Once we have Losara trapped, Battu and I will draw him, and Bel, through the gateway of the Stone.’
Jaya’s hand seemed sweaty in Bel’s. She looked worried, and he tried to give her a reassuring smile, though right then it was hard to muster.
‘And in the meantime,’ said Brahl, ‘the rest of us fight on – so when Bel emerges from that thing, he still has an army to lead!’
Soon everyone was eager to go about their own preparations. Fahren and Battu wanted to test the Stone, and Brahl had orders to give to his officers. As people began to leave, Bel felt uneasy, at a loose end. He was suddenly wary of a night spent worrying, uncertain over what would happen once Losara re-entered him. Sur
ely the changes would be slight – Arkus had said his counterpart was but a shred of a man. Maybe it would be as simple as an end to the blankness? That he could live with.
Across the fire he saw Elessa staring off into space.
‘You go on back to camp,’ he whispered to Jaya. ‘I’ll be along shortly.’
‘Don’t be too long.’ Again he saw apprehension plain on her face. What could he tell her?
‘I won’t be,’ he said lamely.
As Jaya left, Elessa realised it was just her and Bel left.
‘Well,’ he said. ‘Who would have guessed that you and I would sit here together on the eve of it all?’
‘Not I,’ she said.
‘Do you mind if I talk to you?’
She paused, considering his question for longer than seemed necessary. ‘Why not?’ she said eventually, then shook her head. ‘It wasn’t you who made me this way, not really. You did not ask for your fate, just as I didn’t ask for mine. At any rate, some would see it as justice.’
‘Justice?’
‘That I damaged your soul, and in turn find mine damaged.’ She seemed to hearken to her own words, and he realised they had something in common.
‘Fahren said …’ he licked his lips. It was hard to know how to relate to this woman, or how open he could be with her. ‘That you did not come back …well, entirely.’
She chuckled, a grating noise that did not seem in keeping with the soft lips it came from. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I am no longer the person I was. It is …well, it is hard to describe.’
‘Bits of you are missing,’ said Bel matter-of-factly.
‘Indeed.’
‘Can you tell?’
‘Pardon?’
Bel sighed. ‘All my life a part of me has been gone. And yet I have no comparison, remembering no time before that was the case, as you do.’
‘Oh,’ she said. For a moment she would not meet his gaze. ‘Yes, I can tell.’
‘Ah. And it is not pleasant, I take it?’
‘Not especially.’
Bel pursed his lips. Did he suffer the same as she did, and just couldn’t know? Was he missing more, or less? Looking back, he knew he’d often been troubled or confused, but he did not think of his existence as being tortured. But maybe, when he and Losara were joined, he would suddenly experience life as he’d never imagined it before. Maybe he would learn that he’d been missing out on many things, as if there were colours he had never seen, scents he had never smelled. And there was his old excitement, coming to the fore – maybe the morrow would bring him not only glory, but fulfilment.
He found he wanted to share his newborn good mood. ‘Well,’ he said, spreading his hands, ‘we may not be all there, but at least we look good.’
No answering mirth showed in her. After a pause she gestured at her face dismissively. ‘Illusions,’ she said. ‘I don’t know why. Maybe there is a skerrick of vanity left in me somewhere.’
‘Oh,’ said Bel, suddenly imagining a ghastly face beneath the projected shell he stared at.
‘Just a few touches,’ she added, noting his look. ‘Most of what you see is me.’
Bel nodded as if he understood. After an uncomfortable silence, he rose. ‘I should return to my camp.’
‘As you wish. Enjoy the warmth of your lady’s arms.’
As he moved away, he glanced back at her sitting alone by the campfire.
‘What will you do?’
‘Wait,’ she said simply.
Bel wondered if there was anything he could do for her. He had tried to lift her spirits, and it had only depressed her more.
‘Elessa,’ he said, ‘thank you for giving us this chance. You will be remembered twice over for great deeds.’
She put a hand to her forehead in a casual salute, then quickly took it away to stare at it in disgust. ‘Let us hope so,’ she said. ‘And Bel?’ Again a long pause, and finally she lowered her hand. ‘I am sorry for my part in what happened to you.’
He forced a chortle. ‘Don’t be silly. If not for you, who knows where I would be right now?’
And then he did walk away, for she was beginning to disquiet him.
•
A smoking stump in the distance was the only standing remnant of the shattered tree. Battu turned to Fahren with a mad glint in his eye. Between them hung the Stone, its chain looped around the end of a staff planted in the ground.
‘That worked well,’ said Battu. ‘Shall we try another?’
Fahren was too shocked to respond right away. The sheer power that they’d been able to produce, channelling to combine their magic to a single purpose, was staggering.
‘Let’s change tack,’ he said. ‘What about a ward?’
Battu nodded eagerly – too eagerly, and Fahren had to remind himself that Battu could not make the Stone work by himself.
‘Ready.’ Battu raised his hand.
‘Wonder what will happen?’ said Fahren. ‘Shadow and light together in defence?’
‘Channel and we’ll find out!’
Each cast at the Stone, and Fahren felt a slight tweak as his power was caught up and sucked into it. A moment later a ward suffused them, but like no ward he had ever seen. It was a dark light, deep orange with tinges of blue, yellow, grey and black, like an expansion of the colours that constantly flashed across the Stone’s surface – the sunset sky in evening.
‘Impressive,’ observed Battu. ‘Now we need to see how it stands up to attack!’
‘I am sure the ward is strong,’ said Fahren.
‘You stand here,’ said Battu. ‘I can both help maintain the ward and attack it at the same time.’
‘But –’
Battu was already stalking off. When he was some twenty paces away, he turned. ‘Are you ready?’
Fahren braced himself. ‘Nothing too powerful, Battu,’ he called.
Battu laughed. ‘Don’t be such a cringing kitten! Weren’t you once the Grand High Mage?’
He unleashed a flurry of blue bolts that sizzled towards the ward. Fahren tensed, but felt only a slight jolt against the defence, with none of the force he would normally have expected.
‘Not bad,’ called Battu. ‘How about …’ He glanced at the sky.
‘No,’ said Fahren. ‘If you conjure some blue vortex up there, it will be seen for leagues around. We do not wish to advertise your presence.’
‘Very well. How about this, then?’
He concentrated hard, and two thick shadow tendrils unfurled from his hands. As they neared the ward, each darted in to attack it at the same place. At the point of contact the colours of the ward suddenly congealed and thickened, there was a great crack, and the shadows disintegrated.
Battu cackled gleefully.
‘Don’t get cocky,’ warned Fahren. ‘I felt that spell penetrate a little – the ward might be strong, but it isn’t invincible.’
‘It doesn’t change the fact,’ said Battu, ‘that you and I wield the most potent magic heard of in millennia.’
‘And I,’ said Fahren, ‘am not sure whether I find that a comfort or not. Now come, we have other things to try.’
•
Requested by Gerent Brahl to return to the officers’ camp, Bel was relieved to find Elessa now absent. He did not inquire after her whereabouts, but spoke instead with Brahl about some of the arrangements for the following day. Brahl also showed him an impressive suit of armour, suggesting that Bel might consider wearing it. Certainly the majestic gold plate was fitting for a hero, but Bel wondered if he really needed it. The path was his protection, and heavy armour might impede him as he travelled it. As he stood considering his answer, Fahren and Battu returned.
‘How did you go?’ said Brahl.
The two mages exchanged a glance.
‘Fahren?’
Fahren licked his lips. ‘We had no problem making it work. In fact, it works quite well.’
‘In the same way that the sky,’ added Battu, ‘is quite high up.’
‘
If you’ll excuse me,’ said Fahren quickly, ‘I must talk to my mages.’ He set down the staff, removed the Stone from the top and moved away. Battu watched him go, then shook his head.
A cerepan arrived and whispered something to Brahl. ‘Excuse me,’ said the gerent. ‘I have much to see to. Bel, we can decide about this later.’
Left standing alone with Battu, once again Bel found himself curious, not just about the man himself, but because Battu knew Losara better than anyone else Bel had met.
He gestured at the fireside. ‘Will you join me?’
Battu glanced at the flames with unease.
‘Or maybe a walk to the river?’ suggested Bel.
Battu stared at the troops sprawling in the direction of the river and looked even more uncomfortable. ‘I will sit by the fire, if that is what you wish. Better than strolling amongst your horde.’ He lowered himself onto the rock furthest from the heat. Bel took one also.
‘Really,’ Bel said jovially, ‘I should kill you.’
Battu grunted. ‘You have reasons enough.’
‘And a very strong reason not to, I suppose.’
Battu shrugged with mock exaggeration. ‘I suppose.’
‘You are not scared of me – is that what you intimate?’
Battu considered him for a moment. ‘Perhaps. You have more pluck than Losara, I’ll say that for you. He never could master intimidation.’
‘No?’ said Bel. He tried not to let his eagerness to learn more about his counterpart show too obviously.
‘Perhaps I would have had better luck with the type who sits down to make casual death threats.’
