The Eternal Champion

  My marshals and captains were all for rushing upon the Eldren as soon as morning came. To our relief it seemed that their numbers were smaller than ours and it now looked likely we could defeat them.

  I felt relieved. It meant that I did not need to use Ermizhad for bartering with Arjavh and I could afford to stand by the Code of War which the humans used among themselves but refused to extend to the Eldren.

  My commanders were horrified when I told them, but I said: “Let us act well and with nobility. Let us set an example to them.” Now there was no Katorn, no Rigenos—not even Roldero—to argue with me and tell me that we must be treacherous and quick where Eldren were concerned. I wanted to fight this battle in the terms that Erekosë understood, for I was following Erekosë’s instincts now.

  I watched our herald ride into the night under a flag of truce. I watched him ride away and then, on an impulse, spurred after him.

  My marshals called after me: “Lord Erekosë—where do you go?”

  “To the Eldren camp!” I called back, and laughed at their consternation.

  The herald turned in his saddle, hearing the hoofbeats of my horse. “Lord Erekosë?” he said questioningly.

  “Ride on, herald—and I’ll ride with you.”

  And so, together, we came at last to the Eldren camp, and we stopped as the outer guards hailed us.

  “What would you here, humans?” some low-ranking officer asked, peering with his blue-flecked eyes through the gloom.

  The moon came out and shone silver. I took my banner from where it lay against my horse’s side. I raised it and I shook it out. The moon picked up the motif.

  “That is Erekosë’s banner,” said the officer.

  “And I am Erekosë,” I said.

  A look of disgust crossed the Eldren’s face. “We heard what you did at Paphanaal. If you were not here under the truce flag, I would…”

  “I did nothing at Paphanaal I am ashamed of,” I said.

  “No. You would not be ashamed.”

  “My sword was sheathed during the whole stay at Paphanaal, Eldren.”

  “Aye—sheathed in the bodies of babes.”

  “Think what you will,” I said. “Lead me to your master. I’ll not waste time with you.”

  We rode through the silent camp until we came to the simple pavilion of Prince Arjavh. The officer went inside.

  Then I heard a movement in the tent and from it stepped a lithe figure, dressed in half-armour, a steel breastplate strapped over a loose shirt of green, leather hose beneath leg greaves, also of steel, and sandals on his feet. His long black hair was kept away from his eyes by a band of gold bearing a single great ruby.

  And his face—his face was beautiful. I hesitate to use the word to describe a man, but it is the only one that will do justice to those fine features. Like Ermizhad, he had the tapering skull, the slanting, orbless eyes. But his lips did not curve upwards as did hers. His mouth was grim and there were lines of weariness about it. He passed his hand across his face and looked up at us.

  “I am Prince Arjavh of Mernadin,” he said in his liquid voice. “What would you say to me, Erekosë, you who abducted my sister?”

  “I came personally to bring the traditional challenge from the hosts of Humanity,” I said.

  He raised his head to look about him. “Some plot, I gather. Some fresh treachery?”

  “I speak only the truth,” I told him.

  There was melancholy irony in his smile when he replied. “Very well, Lord Erekosë. On behalf of the Eldren, I accept your gracious challenge. We will battle, then, shall we? We will kill each other tomorrow, shall we?”

  “You may decide when to begin,” I said. “For it is we who made the challenge.”

  He frowned. “It has been perhaps a million years since the Eldren and Humanity fought according to the Code of War. How can I trust you, Erekosë? We have heard how you butchered the children.”

  “I butchered no children,” I said quietly. “I begged that they be spared. But at Paphanaal I was advised by King Rigenos and his marshals. Now I control the battle forces and I choose to fight according to the Code of War. The Code of War, I believe, that I originally drew up.”

  “Aye,” Arjavh said thoughtfully. “It’s sometimes called Erekosë’s Code. But you are not the true Erekosë. He was a mortal like all men. Only the Eldren are immortal.”

  “I am mortal in many respects,” I said shortly, “and immortal in others. Now, shall we decide the terms of battle?”

  Arjavh spread his arms. “Oh, how can I trust all this talk? How many times have we agreed to believe you humans and have been betrayed time after time? How can I accept that you are Erekosë, the Champion of Humanity, our ancient enemy whom, even in our legends, we respect as a noble foe? I wish to believe you, you who calls himself Erekosë, but I cannot afford to.”

  “May I dismount?” I asked. The herald glanced at me in astonishment.

  “If you will.”

  I clambered from the back of my armoured horse and unbuckled my sword and hung it over the pommel of the saddle and I pushed the horse to one side and walked forward and stood there confronting Prince Arjavh face to face.

  “We are a stronger force than you,” I said. “We stand a good chance of winning the battle tomorrow. It is possible that within a week even the few who escape the battle will be dead at the hands of our soldiers or our peasants. I offer you the chance to fight a noble battle, Prince Arjavh. A fair battle. I suggest that the terms can include the sparing of prisoners, medical treatment for all captured wounded, a counting of the dead and of the living.” I was remembering it all as I spoke.

  “You know Erekosë’s Code well,” he said.

  “I should.”

  He looked away and up at the moon. “Is my sister still alive?”

  “She is.”

  “Why did you come thus with your herald to our camp?”

  “Curiosity, I suppose,” I told him. “I have spoken much with Ermizhad. I wanted to see if you were the devil I heard you were—or the person Ermizhad described.”

  “And what do you see?”

  “If you are a devil, you are a weary one.”

  “Not too weary to fight,” he said. “Not too weary to take Necranal if I can.”

  “We expected you to march on Paphanaal,” I told him. “We thought it logical that you would try to recapture your main port.”

  “Aye—that’s what I planned. Then I learned that you had abducted my sister.” He paused. “How is she?”

  “Well,” I said. “She was placed under my protection and I have seen to it that she has been treated with courtesy wherever possible.”

  He nodded.

  “We come, of course, to rescue her,” he said.

  “I wondered if that was your reason.” I smiled a little. “We should have expected it, but we did not. You realise that they will, should you win tomorrow’s battle, threaten to kill her if you do not retreat.”

  Arjavh pursed his lips. “They will kill her, anyway, will they not? They will torture her. I know how they treat Eldren prisoners.”

  I could say nothing to the contrary.

  “If they kill my sister,” Prince Arjavh said, “I will burn down Necranal though I am the only one left to do it. I will kill Rigenos, his daughter, everyone.”

  “And so it goes on,” I said softly.

  Arjavh looked back at me. “I am sorry. You wished to discuss the terms of battle. Very well, Erekosë, I will trust you. I agree to all your proposals—and offer a term of my own.”

  “That is?”

  “Deliverance of Ermizhad from captivity if we should win. It will save you and us many lives.”

  “It would,” I agreed, “but it is not for me to make that bargain. I regret it, Prince Arjavh, but it is the king who holds her. If she were my prisoner and not just under my protection, I would do as you suggest. If you win, you must go on to Necranal and lay siege to the city.”

  He sighed. “Very well,
Sir Champion. We shall be ready at dawn tomorrow.”

  I said hurriedly: “We outnumber you, Prince Arjavh. You could go back now—in peace.”

  He shook his head. “Let the battle be fought.”

  “Until dawn, then, Prince of the Eldren.”

  He moved his hand tiredly in assent. “Farewell, Lord Erekosë.”

  “Farewell.” I mounted my horse and rode back to our camp in a sorrowful mood, the puzzled herald at my side.

  Once again I was divided. Were the Eldren so clever they could deceive me so easily?

  Tomorrow would tell.

  * * *

  That night in my own pavilion I slept as badly as ever, but I accepted the dreams, the vague memories, and I did not attempt to fight them, to interpret them. It had become clear to me that there was no point to it. I was what I was—I was the Eternal Champion, the Everlasting Wager of War. I would never know why.

  Before dawn our trumpets warned us to awake and make ourselves ready. I buckled on my armour, my sword and my lance’s cover was ripped off to reveal the long, metal-shod spear.

  I went out into the chill of the dying night. The day was not yet with us. Silhouetted against what little light we had, my cavalry was already mounting. There was a cold, clammy sweat on my forehead. I wiped it with a rag time after time, but it remained there. I raised my helm and brought it down over my head, strapping it to my shoulder plates. My squires handed me my gauntlets and I pulled them on. Then, stiff-legged in my armour, I stalked towards my steed, was helped into the saddle, was handed my shield and my lance, and cantered up the line to the head of my troops.

  It was very quiet when we began to move—a steel sea lapping at the coast that was the Eldren camp.

  * * *

  As the watery dawn broke, our forces sighted each other. The Eldren were still by their camp but, when they saw us, they too began to move. Very slowly, it seemed, but implacably.

  I lifted my visor to get a wider view of the surroundings. The ground seemed good and dry. There appeared to be no places with superior advantages.

  The horses’ hoofs thumped the turf. The arms of the riders clattered at their sides. Their armour clashed and their harness creaked. But in spite of this a silence seemed to fill the air.

  Nearer we came and nearer.

  A flight of swallows flew high above us and then glided away towards the far-off hills.

  I closed my visor. The back of the horse jogged beneath me. The cold sweat seemed to cover my body and clog my armour. The lance and the shield were suddenly very heavy.

  I smelled the stink of other sweating men and horses. Before long, I would smell their blood, too.

  Because of our need for speed, we had brought no cannon. The Eldren, also wishing to travel rapidly, had no artillery either. Perhaps, I thought, their siege machines were following behind at a slower pace.

  Nearer now. I could make out Arjavh’s banner and a little cluster of flags that were those of his commanders.

  I planned to depend upon my cavalry. They would spread out on two sides to surround the Eldren while another arrowhead of horsemen pierced the centre of their ranks and pushed through to the rear so that we would surround them on all sides.

  Nearer still. My stomach grumbled and I tasted bile in my mouth.

  Close. I reined in my horse and raised my lance and gave the order for the archers to shoot.

  We had no crossbows, only longbows, which had greater range and penetrating power and could shoot many more arrows at a time. The first flight of arrows screamed overhead and thudded down into the Eldren ranks and then were almost instantly followed by another flight and then another.

  Our shafts were answered by the slim arrows of the Eldren. Horses and men shrieked as the arrows found their marks and for a moment there was consternation among our men as their ranks became ragged. But then, with great discipline, they re-formed.

  Again I raised my lance on which fluttered my black-and-silver pennant.

  “Cavalry! Advance at full gallop!”

  The trumpets shouted the order. The air was savaged by the sound. The knights spurred their war-steeds forward and began, line upon line of them, to fan out on two sides while another division rode straight towards the centre of the Eldren host. These knights were bent over the necks of their fast-moving horses, lances leaning at an angle across their saddles, some held under the right arm and aimed to the left and others secure under left arms, aimed at the right. Their helmet plumes fluttered behind them as they bore down on the Eldren. Their cloaks streamed out, and their pennants waved and the dim sunlight gleamed on their armour.

  I was almost deafened by the thunder of hoofs as I kicked my charger into a gallop and, with a band of fifty picked knights behind me, they themselves surrounding the twin standards of Humanity, rode forward, straining my eyes for Arjavh whom, at that moment, I hated with a terrible hatred.

  I hated him because I must fight this battle and possibly kill him.

  With a fearful din made up of shouts and clashing metal, we smashed into the Eldren army and soon I was oblivious to all but the need to kill and defend my life against those who would kill me. I broke my lance early on. It smashed right through the armoured body of an Eldren noble and split with the impetus. I left it in him and drew my sword.

  Now I hewed about me with savage intensity, seeking sight of Arjavh. At last I saw him, a huge mace swinging from his gauntleted hand, battering at the infantrymen who sought to pull him from his saddle.

  “Arjavh!”

  He glimpsed me from the corner of his eye as I waited for him. “A moment, Erekosë, I have work here.”

  “Arjavh!” The name I screamed was a challenge, nothing else.

  Arjavh finished the last of the foot soldiers and he kicked his horse towards me, still flailing around him with his giant mace as two mounted knights came at him. Then the men drew back as they saw we were about to engage.

  We came close enough to fight now. I aimed a mighty blow at him with my poisoned sword, but he pulled aside in time and I felt his mace glance off my back as I leaned so far forward in my saddle after the wasted blow that my sword almost touched the churned ground.

  I brought the sword up in an underarm swing and the mace was there to deflect it. For several minutes we fought until, in my astonishment, I heard a voice some distance away.

  “RALLY THE STANDARD! RALLY, KNIGHTS OF HUMANITY!”

  We had not succeeded in our tactics! That was obvious from the cry. Our forces were attempting to consolidate and attack afresh. Arjavh smiled and lowered his mace.

  “They sought to surround the halflings,” he said and laughed aloud.

  “We’ll meet again soon, Arjavh,” I shouted as I turned my horse back and spurred it through the press, forcing my way through the milling, embattled men towards the standard which swayed to my right.

  There was no cowardice in my leaving and Arjavh knew it. I had to be with my men when they rallied. That was why Arjavh had lowered his weapon. He had not sought to stop me.

  19

  THE BATTLE DECIDED

  ARJAVH HAD MENTIONED the halflings. I had noticed no ghouls amongst his men. What were they, then? What kind of creatures could not be surrounded?

  The halflings were only part of my problem. Fresh tactics had to be decided upon hurriedly or the day would be soon lost. Four of my marshals were desperately trying to get our ranks re-formed as I came up to them. The Eldren enclosed us where we had planned to enclose them and many groups of our warriors were cut off from the main force.

  Above the noise of the battle I shouted to one of my marshals: “What’s the position? Why did we fail so quickly? We outnumber them.”

  “It’s hard to tell what the position is, Lord Erekosë,” the marshal answered, “or how we failed. One moment we had surrounded the Eldren and the next moment half their forces were surrounding us—they vanished and reappeared behind us! Even now we cannot tell which is material Eldren and which halfling.” The
man who answered me was Count Maybeda, an experienced old warrior. His voice was ragged and he was very much shaken.

  “What other qualities do these halflings possess?” I asked.

  “They are solid enough when fighting, Lord Erekosë, and they can be slain by ordinary weapons—but they can disappear at will and be wherever they wish on the field. It is impossible to plan tactics against such a foe.”

  “In that case,” I decided, “we had best keep our men together and fight a defensive action. I think we still outnumber the Eldren and their ghostly allies. Let them come to us!”

  The morale of my warriors was low. They were disconcerted and were finding it difficult to face the possibility of defeat when victory had seemed so certain.

  Through the milling men I saw the basilisk banner of the Eldren approaching us. Their cavalry poured in swiftly with Prince Arjavh at their head.

  Our forces came together again and once more I was doing battle with the Eldren leader.

  He knew the power of my sword—knew that the touch of it could slay him if it fell on a break in his armour—but that deadly mace, wielded with the dexterity with which another would wield a sword, warded off every blow I aimed.

  I fought him for half an hour until he showed signs of dazed weariness and my own muscles ached horribly.

  And again our forces had been split! Again it was impossible to see how the battle went. For most of the time I was uncaring, oblivious to the events around me as I concentrated on breaking through Arjavh’s splendid guard.

  Then I saw Count Maybeda ride swiftly past me, his golden armour split, his face and arms bloody. In one red hand he carried the torn banner of Humanity and his eyes stared in fear from his wounded head.

  “Flee, Lord Erekosë!” he screamed as he galloped past. “Flee! The day is lost!”

  I could not believe it, until the ragged remnants of my warriors began to stream past me in ignominious flight.