‘What now, sir?’
‘We wait.’
At sundown two days later, a lone rider with a white flag approached, but not the herald. It was a sergeant in the tabard of Salador and he came to the main gate. Geoffrey came to the barbican above the gate and shouted down. ‘What word?’
‘Sir,’ said the sergeant, ‘Lord Arthur has ridden off. He’s taken the officers of noble birth and his personal guard, and he’s heading east. I find myself commanding an army, but with no orders.’
‘What do you seek?’
‘I see no good end to this battle, sir, and even if I pressed it, and we won, I have no idea what I would then do. I am but a common soldier, my lord, and my only concern is following orders – of which I have none – and the well-being of my men. As I now only have that concern, I petition you, sir, may we depart in peace?’
‘What would you do?’
‘Go home,’ he said sadly. ‘If my lord duke abandons us, we are defeated, even though we may hold advantage in the field.’
‘You are no common soldier, Sergeant. May I know your name?’
‘Cribs, sir. Algernon Cribs.’
‘Wait until dawn and prepare for revolt: your mercenaries won’t be happy with being ordered to quit without booty. If you will permit me, I’ll pen a missive I would have you give to whomever you find in charge of Salador, commending your care for your men.’
‘That would be most kind, sir.’
‘Shall we agree the hostilities are past and free passage by all is guaranteed?’
‘It is agreeable to me, sir.’
‘Then I shall send you a messenger in the morning with the letter and I think we shall meet again, Sergeant Algernon Cribs, I hope in happier circumstances.’
‘Good day to you, sir.’
The rider headed back to his own lines, and finding himself relieved to the point of tears, Knight-Marshal Geoffrey du Gale said, ‘Garton, see to the men. Feed them and rest them, then let us bury our dead and the honoured fallen of our enemy, and see an end to this.’
‘The war is over?’ asked Garton.
‘Just our little bit of it, and we may find ourselves fighting again, but not today … and not tomorrow. Tomorrow we mourn our losses and thank the gods for a kind king in Roldem and as sneaky a bastard as ever lived in Jim Dasher.’
Not being entirely sure what the Knight-Marshal meant by the last remark, Captain Garton saluted and left his commander with his own thoughts as he stood alone on the barbican of the western gate of Silden, while below men began to celebrate a victory that was a gift of circumstances in a war no one in Silden had wanted.
Geoffrey gave himself a moment, then pushed down rising emotions and gathered himself. There was a lot of work ahead and it wouldn’t get done on its own.
• CHAPTER SIXTEEN •
Journey V
MIRANDA FELL.
Magnus came over and helped her to her feet without floating into the air. ‘I had the same problem,’ he said.
‘Where are we?’ she asked. Then she caught sight of a very familiar figure. ‘Macros,’ she whispered.
Magnus nodded. ‘Not a … well, it appears he’s who he looks to be.’
Drinking in the vista of stars and galaxies, Miranda repeated her question. ‘Where are we?’
‘On what appears to be a very large hunk of rock hurtling through some unknown region of the universe. What air and gravity we have appears to have been provided for us by whoever brought us here.’
Macros turned and a delighted expression crossed his face. ‘Miranda! How lovely to see you again.’ He gathered her in an embrace.
‘I’m not Miranda,’ she said, disentangling herself from his grasp.
‘I know,’ said Macros. ‘You are the demon Child, with my daughter’s memories imprinted on you. But you’re as close to my daughter as I’m likely to get for however long I’m permitted to continue this existence, so I’ll make do. How I got here and why this tiny sliver of life was pulled from me I don’t know, save that it is for a reason that beings of great power consider important.’
‘I was with someone … the place I left …’ She looked around. ‘The Fourth Circle, though maybe not …’ Her voice fell away as she beheld the magnificence all around her. ‘With something called Piper.’
Macros was silent for a long moment, as if listening to something, then said, ‘Ah, yes, Piper. She, or he, was a construct. A being sent to you to impart a lesson.’ He paused again, as if listening. He nodded, then said, ‘The others – Magnus, Pug, and Nakor – encountered people of note from their pasts, people they were inclined to listen to. I’m not entirely sure why, but people from Miranda’s past would not have the same impact on you as people from their lives had on the others.’ With a rueful chuckle he said, ‘You are unique.’
‘I hate lessons,’ said Miranda.
‘You always did,’ said Macros. ‘You were always conspiring to learn things your own way, until you needed me to show you how to do something.’ He looked at Magnus. ‘Did you know your mother, when she was about ten years of age, I believe it was, almost destroyed half a village when she summoned a fire elemental but hadn’t continued to read the text where it explained how to control him?’
‘No, I didn’t,’ said Magnus, trying not to grin at Miranda’s obvious discomfort. She might be a demon at heart, but her mind was becoming Miranda’s so much that she was almost squirming with embarrassment. ‘Let’s spare Magnus tales of my ill-spent youth, Father,’ she said archly, ‘and we’ll also spare him tales of your profligacy with the trust of others.’
‘I don’t mind, really,’ said Macros. ‘I have a feeling that my time alive is limited to my usefulness to those who are bringing us together. Anything to stretch out that time would be welcome.’
‘Why are we here?’ asked Miranda, surveying the sprawling arc of heaven. She had been many places and seen many things in her human life, but she had never beheld a view such as this.
Gas clouds of a size beyond imagining sprawled in every direction and pulsing points of light glowed from within them, as comets moved majestically around distant stars, their white plumes trailing away from the suns.
‘It’s magnificent, isn’t it?’ said Macros.
‘It’s huge,’ said Miranda. ‘I knew the universe was vast, but …’
Macros’s eyes were alive with a surprise and wonder she had never seen in her father as he said, ‘This is only the beginning.’
‘Of what?’
‘You’ll see,’ he said, ‘as soon as the others arrive.’
They waited.
Nakor stumbled out of the vortex and when Magnus caught and steadied him, his expression was one of undiluted delight. ‘Macros!’ He hurried over and touched his robe, looked into his eyes, and said, ‘The real one!’
Macros couldn’t conceal his pleasure. ‘Nakor! Still cheating everyone you meet at cards?’
‘Always,’ he replied, and they hugged.
Circumstances had involved both of them indirectly in each other’s lives in ways they hadn’t suspected until events during the Serpent War had caused them finally to meet.
‘I take it,’ said Nakor, ‘that none of this is random coincidence.’
‘I have much to share,’ said Macros. ‘Let us wait for Pug. But there is one thing I must tell you three that he can’t be permitted to know.’ He looked from one to another, then said, ‘Pug believes his life will end soon. A crux is coming, a confluence of probability which none of you may survive,’ said Macros. ‘But the future is now unfixed and whatever prophecy or foretelling that may have directed his behaviour is almost certainly moot. However, he must not know that. He must believe he will sacrifice himself to save … everything.’
‘But why?’ demanded Miranda. ‘It makes no sense.’
‘Actually,’ said Magnus, ‘it makes perfect sense.’
Nakor nodded. ‘If he feels he has nothing to lose he will fear nothing. If he believes this fight is personal
ly hopeless, all his energy will be directed at saving everyone else.’
Miranda began to look angry. ‘Hasn’t he suffered enough?’
Macros said, ‘More than enough, but this is how it must be. When he is here and I …’ He paused. ‘When he is here I’ll continue this discussion, but you must agree.’
Nakor and Magnus nodded while Miranda stood motionless before giving one curt nod.
For a long moment they stood staring out at the incredible ocean of stars and gas clouds, the impossible colours of space.
At last, Nakor said, ‘I met people.’
All eyes turned to him. ‘First, I met Borric, back before he was king, when he was in Kesh and he and I first met. It was a strange conversation, and I’m still not sure I fully understand his meaning.’
No one spoke.
‘Then I met Jorma, on the day she first appeared at the travelling fair where I was working.’
Macros’s expression turned solemn but Miranda’s showed barely contained anger. Nakor’s wife, Jorma, had taken all she had learned from Nakor and left him. Then, some years later, she had spent years with Macros, conceiving Miranda during that time, finally running off, leaving the little girl with a father incapable of raising her. Not suspecting until later the powers his daughter possessed, Macros had given her up to another family to raise, returning for her only when her powers manifested themselves. Their relationship had been rocky at best, hostile at times, and never close in any meaningful way. Miranda had come to terms with that early on in her life, and had managed to forge her own life on her own terms after that.
Still, the demon within Miranda found conflicting emotions welling up inside her. Mention of Miranda’s mother produced an unexpected anger, and the part of her that was Child realized that while Macros may have been a poor excuse for a father, Jorma had been no mother at all. Child felt as if Miranda was about to completely consume her, ridding her for all time of her demon heritage, and now she fought to maintain a shred of identity within the complex dual being she had become. Demon rage was at its heart simple. Child’s mother had taught her the beginning of the concept of love through her willing self-sacrifice, but the sea of tumultuous feelings through which she swam was far more than any demon was capable of dealing with, and Miranda began to understand something.
She had encountered her mother for the first time as an adult, and the thing that stood out most starkly was that the woman did not for an instant recognize her. Circumstances over the years had caused their paths to cross. Now, years after her mother’s destruction at the hands of the demon Jakan, Miranda still found herself angry.
Softly she asked Nakor, ‘What did you learn from that encounter?’
‘I’m not certain about that either, save that men can do very stupid things because they believe themselves to be in love.’ He shrugged. ‘But I knew that before I met her.’
Macros nodded. ‘She had an ability …’ He let the words go, then started again. ‘One of her talents was to make a man think he was the most important thing in her life, no matter how improbable that might be to an onlooker.’
Nakor nodded. ‘That was true.’
‘Still,’ said Magnus, ‘we were confronted by things from our past that were in some measure getting us ready for what? This?’ He waved his hand.
‘This is only the beginning,’ said Macros again.
Miranda looked at Nakor and said, ‘I know why we,’ she indicated herself and Nakor, ‘why we’re here.’
‘Why?’ asked Nakor.
‘I saw … I’ll share details after Pug arrives, but this one thing: Child and Belog could never see what we are seeing, are going to see, have seen, however you want to think of it. We could not see through human eyes. Miranda and Nakor could never see through demon eyes. My lesson was about perspective, the need to look at things differently.’
‘Fascinating,’ said Nakor.
Magnus said, ‘It never occurred to me, but now that you say this, I realize how true it is; you two have a unique view.’
Time passed, then suddenly the vortex appeared, and a moment later Pug came stumbling out, to be caught by Nakor and Magnus. Miranda could barely constrain herself from throwing her arms around his neck, satisfying herself by gently squeezing his arm.
Pug looked around and his eyes widened, ‘Macros?’
Nakor said, ‘The real one. Not the guide we met on the beach.’
‘Hello, Pug,’ said the original Black Sorcerer. He turned and stood looking up at the massive display. ‘I have been watching for hours, and as I need to understand things, they come to me. There is so much to tell.’
‘Why are we here?’ asked Pug.
‘Each of you has been provided instruction, or at least reminders of things you already knew, but perhaps overlooked,’ said Macros. ‘There is an agency so vast and powerful it defies logic.’ He paused. ‘You will discover much in the time we spend together, but realize that the full truth will never be revealed, for two reasons. First, some truths cannot simply be taught but have to be learned, sometimes through bitter experience.’ He glanced at Miranda sadly. ‘Other things are simply beyond understanding. Much of what I’m about to show you will illustrate that truth.’ He looked at Pug. ‘Let’s begin with you. Where were you before you got here?’
‘I had an encounter with my first teacher, Kulgan,’ answered Pug. ‘In a cottage very much like the one he had in Crydee.’
‘What did he teach you?’ asked Nakor.
‘When in doubt, return to the fundamentals.’
Nakor glanced at Miranda. ‘That everything is a function of perspective.’
They looked at Magnus. ‘That being fearful of risk guarantees failure.’
Nakor grinned. ‘I learned a thing or two, but I’m not sure which thing or two. They will come to me.’ Looking at Macros, he asked, ‘What now?’
Macros smiled and said, ‘Now we begin.’
The planetoid moved, or the universe moved around it, for apparent motion was relative. Macros spoke in hushed, almost reverential tones. ‘This thing we call a universe is vast beyond imagining.’ He waved his hand in an arc, across the star-studded dark. ‘We see only the tiniest part of it.’
He turned to the four of them. ‘You’ve all trodden on alien worlds, walked the Hall of Worlds, and dwelled in different realms of existence. Yet while you four are no doubt the most travelled individuals in the history of Midkemia, the distances you’ve travelled are but the tiny steps of a baby walking compared to a striding giant who is traversing uncountable times around that world. Less even …’ He sighed. ‘There is no comparison.’
He waved a hand and suddenly they were somewhere else. Across the sky above them a thing of incredible power pulsed, emitting massive streams of energy out of the apparent north and south poles, while a tiny white-hot speck burned at its core. Around it was a dark shroud of what might have been dust or gas or millions of planets dwarfed to mote size by the distance; it was impossible to judge. Macros pointed. ‘We are farther from that star by a thousand times a thousand times the distance from Midkemia to her sun. If you were standing a trillion miles above either pole, the energy it generates would kill you instantly. This is one of the most massive things in the universe, an engine of creation, if you will. The furnace within that pulsing star is forging … everything.’ He held out his hand. ‘We are formed of the same energy and matter created in such a place, for in some future era it will explode, and matter and energy will be scattered across the vastness.’ He pointed at the massive, pulsing star. ‘And there are billions of them out there. Billions.’
‘This is humbling,’ said Magnus.
‘It is not supposed to be,’ said Macros. ‘It is the start of showing you how important your journey is, and how countless lives and places beyond your imagining are in your hands.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Miranda.
‘Everything we are about to see, all we learn, is to prepare us all for the final battle,’ said Ma
cros.
‘Us?’ asked Pug.
‘As much as I am permitted,’ said Macros. ‘The tiny slice of my life was preserved, but so much more has been granted me than I imagined when I was alive.’
Nakor laughed. ‘It’s so very odd to speak of yourself in the past tense.’
‘It’s even more odd to live in the past tense, I can promise you,’ answered the Black Sorcerer.
Miranda looked at the monstrous thing hanging above them in the sky. ‘I am looking at this thing, this star, but my mind rejects it.’
‘We five may possess the most prodigious intellects when it comes to magic of any who have ever lived on Midkemia. Yet we know hardly anything.’
He waved his arm and suddenly they were somewhere else.
A magnificent vista of glowing, swirling gas surrounded them. Inside it, they could see spots of light with swirling currents of energy slowly being gathered into them. ‘A heavenly crèche,’ said Macros. ‘A sea of gas and dust so vast, no human mind can encompass it. Were I to count the grains of sand on a beach, one grain a second, it would take me thirteen days to count one million. To reach a billion would take me thirty-one years. And here, in this sea of gas and dust, are billions upon billions of billions of grains of sand to count.’
‘Impossible,’ said Magnus.
‘The scope of reality is beyond the capacity of mortal mind to fully comprehend. We can only imagine bits, or create metaphors or develop abstractions to help us cope, but no matter what we imagine we have achieved in understanding all this, in truth we know nothing.’
They watched in silence as slowly gas wound its way inward, spiralling into the birthing stars. At last Macros said, ‘Billions of miles of dust, falling inward, and in time a few grains combine, attracting more grains, and eventually there is a bit of something bigger than the grains, and more fall in, and gravity exerts itself, and even more dust and gas fall in, and that creates pressure, and eventually there is so much pressure that energy is released, creating …’
‘Stars,’ said Magnus. ‘We’re watching the birth of suns.’
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