Chapter VIII:
Fell Wolf
At the Nunnery
When at last Evna had been destroyed, and the Princess freed from her long torment, Daryas was in such a state of anguish that he fell into a swoon. Over his lifeless body the Princess wept, not knowing whether he was alive or dead. In this state they remained for some time, until at last Leonara heard the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs to her room. To her horror, her step-brother Volthamir appeared at last, carrying his sword in his hand. 'I have come at last, dear Leonara, to claim that which I have long ago earned the right to possess.'
'You have not the right to anything,' she said, with great sadness in her voice. 'Nor am I anything to claim.'
'Would you refuse me?' Volthamir said without emotion. 'Would you dare refuse the King of Amlaman?'
'The King of Amlaman? What remains of you but the shell of a great man, and the mockery of a tyrant. I will have no part in you.'
With that said, she turned her attention again to the son of Biron, who lay lifeless upon the stone floor. 'Troubled you are, my love,' she whispered, 'and full of many shadows indeed. But there is a spark in thee, that might be kindled to a great flame of light.' she turned her face toward the King and said with disdain, 'But you have within you a dark heart, and a treacherous spirit. For all the love you once professed toward me, you have only bitterness. Do you not know that there is a difference between love and desire? An artisan loves his work, and commits himself to the toil. But you are not an artisan; you are a glutton who knows only how to consume a dainty and cast aside its shell as refuse. So you have treated the land of our fathers, and so you would treat me. I refuse,' she said boldly, though with great emotion, 'for you are not the King of Amlaman!'
After she had spoken thus, the King approached her and struck her face with the back of his hand. Mityai, still being in the room, rushed to her side, but was pushed back, while a black voice spoke to her with words no mortal ear could hear. 'Well done, child, was your work in slaying Evna; but what power she had over this Mountain is no test of my own strength. Do not meddle in things greater than yourself. Be content to have done the god of Weldera such a service.' With that, perceiving Daryas yet to be living, Agonistes commanded a great host of his servants to enter into the son of Biron. 'Bleed him dry, he is as a ripe fruit, ready to fall to the earth - and break upon the stones below.'
With those words a black shadow, entered the room and thousands of devils crawled across the stones toward the body of Daryas. Volthamir snatched up the Princess with ease, and carried her away from the Nunnery toward the Temple of Agonistes.
'I now see, oh Agonistes,' Mityai said as she stood between the host of devils and her charge, 'that you have become the lord of all cowards.'
Rahdmus Awakes
Nearly an hour had passed between the time that Daryas departed and the moment that Rahdmus awoke from his slumber. It was not like him to sleep at all, for elves have less need of sleep than do men. For this reason it was his custom to keep watch while his companions rested. But for whatever reason, the elf lord fell into a deep sleep. He came to his senses slowly, seeing before his eyes the glowing face of a small child. 'Durivis!' he said with great emotion. But as he came to his senses, the visage departed, leaving only the stars above in his view.
When he noticed that Daryas had left him, he shook himself awake, and said under his breath, 'So this is how it must be. I pray for your soul, Daryas Galvahirne, for it will be sorely tested this night.' He looked up at the sky and said, 'But even so, if this is how it must be, then so it must be.'
Almost as soon as he was ready to depart, Novai came rushing up to him, almost in a gallop. The great horse stopped just before him and a great fear seemed to lay upon her eyes. 'What is it, noble one?' Rahdmus asked as he patted her neck. Looking to the south, Rahdmus could make out the hill of Daufina. 'I see flame and smoke afar off; we haven't much time!'
He threw his pack upon Novai and left his own horse to wander in the wilderness. 'She will bear me swifter and serve her master better than any other.'
Novai carried him over the hills and through the lands that she had just traversed, coming at last to the top of the burning valley in which the Nunnery was hidden. This he passed with great anxiety, knowing that his own task summoned him to the Temple, and that there was now nothing he could do to help the young son of Biron.
With great speed and with little difficulty, they came at last to the Temple of Agonistes, in which a great multitude of nobles were gathered. There he was accosted by the guard, who said to him with an impatient tone, 'Halt, fool, can you not see that the Temple is not open for peasants today?'
'Nor is it ever,' Rahdmus answered, removing his cloak. The eyes of the guard opened wide for a moment in utter disbelief. When he recovered himself he squinted, saying, 'Is it truly the Lord Havoc who now stands before me? Have you returned at last, to save Amlaman from chaos?'
'One might well say that,' Rahdmus answered sincerely. But now, tell me, where is the Prince of Amlaman?'
'Surely you must have heard, Lord Havoc, how Volthamir is King in his uncle's stead.'
'Indeed I heard that he ruled in his uncle's stead, but whether he is king or not will depend upon the sense in which that term is applied. Power he has at least! This much will be conceded by all. But whether power alone makes a ruler, that is a discussion we must leave for another day. But for now I must be brought before him immediately.'
'Follow me,' the guard said, turning his back to lead him up to the Temple.
Rahdmus sighed, 'You will want to bind my hands behind my back.'
'What? What are you saying?' he asked with great surprise. With a shudder and a chuckle he said, 'Why and how should I bind the mighty Lord Havoc.
'Lest I bring violence to this mountain, and to your master, and shame upon myself,' Rahdmus answered without any hint of insincerity.
The guard looked very uneasy, but nonetheless ordered that Lord Havoc be bound and tied, all the while keeping his eyes fixed upon him.
Rahdmus smiled and said, 'You were less afraid when you were deceived about my intentions, and when my hands were free.'
'Bring him to the Temple,' the guard ordered, now viewing the old knight with great suspicion.
In a short while he was brought into the temple itself, wherein he saw, ascending to the altar, the King of Amlaman, followed by three priests of the temple, in the midst of whom was led Princess Leonara. Though the fires raged in the valley to the north, and though the mountain was closed to regular visitors, there yet remained a considerable number of noblemen, guards, priests and other religious men worshipping in the Temple. These took no heed of Rahdmus as he was led up the center aisle of the Temple toward a small dais that lay directly beneath the stone gaze of the black god. He was placed in the middle of the dais and surrounded on all sides by guards. 'You should know, young men,' Rahdmus said to them, 'that if it were so that I was meant to harm your king, neither bond nor sword would be able to stop me. Be that as it may, however, I am not here to harm your king. Watch me, but rest easy; remain at my side, whatever comes to pass, and you will not be harmed.'
Of this the men made note, though they made no sign that they had heard him.
When Volthamir had ascended, he lifted his arms to the sky before the great black idol. He then took from his side that small knife, which of old he had taken in hand to slay his father's murderer. Then he made a gesture and the Princess was brought before him. She fought and pulled, but the grasp of Volthamir's guards was more than she could hope to resist. Finding herself unable to escape, she ceased her struggle and stood there upon the Altar like a statue.
'Behold, men of Amlaman, men of Ramlos,' the king began, 'Behold how I right the wrongs of our ancestors, and correct the sins of the people of Agonistes. Well did my mother speak when she named me Aganthos, for I shall play that part well, bringing honor to the dark god once again. This seemed to get the attention of every ear in the
room, and every eye, in turn, surrendered its attention to the spectacle that now appeared on the Altar of Agonistes.
'The old master of Amlaman, who was unfit for the Dual Crown, was like one who plays in the street, performing petty acts of conjuring for a handful of bread from this one or perhaps for a small silver coin from another. He was a show and a facade, but there was no truth within him. In treachery he wrested the kingdom from my father, and so it was with great justice that I restored the kingdom.'
Many who were yet outside, both guards and worshippers, began to pour into the Temple, to hear what the king had to say.
'Hear, then, the extent to which this old magician Vulcan has deceived and imperiled this land! You know well, o men of Sten Agoni, how the people swore to bring justice upon the head of their ancient enemy Pelas of Dadron, and you know even better how we were utterly driven out from that devil's land! On whose account shall we lay the blame in this failure? Shall we lay it upon Agonistes himself? Or shall we acknowledge our own faults, and seek again to fulfill the word of our god?'
The people, now led to excitement by his bold words, and by the fires that calmly burned upon the altar, answered in unison, 'We will fulfill our vows!'
'Then let this, the daughter of the old Kingdom, the kingdom of false promises and treacherous words, perish first. It is well known in Ramlos, and indeed even in Japhrian, how the perverted priests keep the best girls in the Nunnery, and send peasants and the sickly to be fed to the dark god on the eve of the High Feast. This indeed wins them great attention from those girls, who, according to ritual, ought to become the brides of Agonistes through fire and not the pets of wealthy men. But this practice has lost for Amlaman the favor of our lord and god, who is not so easily fooled as the fat men in silken robes would have us believe.'
At that moment the darkness of the room was illuminated by a great burst of flame from the idol's mouth, and a great groan rent the air. Smoke billowed from the nostrils of the god, and the people stepped away from the Altar. 'Let us satiate him, therefore, with the last of that usurper's kin!'
Intoxicated with the fire, the night, the voice of their king, and a good deal of wine, the people cried out in agreement.
The King turned then to the Princess and said to her in a quiet voice, 'Shall you continue to refuse me, even now?'
She turned her head away from him and said nothing, weeping bitterly. He shook his head and beckoned his guards to lead her to the Altar. Her feet seemed to grow heavier and heavier with each step, until at last she could do nothing but stand in place. 'Your fate has always been in your own hands, daughter of mud!' he cursed her under his breath. 'You might come with me and have rest and security at last.'
'Nay,' she said weeping, 'My fate has been fixed from the beginning; my soul was not destined for rest or peace. Why should I seek them now, when they have always been false guides to me hence. Cast me into the fire, brother, for death can give me no greater injury than life has already inflicted upon me.' With great anger he turned once more to the crowd.
'Agonistes, will you accept the blood of this woman? Royal blood to recompense you for all the years your false priests have neglected your Altar, giving you peasant blood and worthless girls to possess!'
With that the fires raged and a great voice echoed from the idol, speaking in words both loud and unintelligible.
But as the roar of the fire died away and the rumble of the dark god's voice faded, there arose a great booming laughter that echoed throughout the hall, getting louder and louder until at last it seemed to steal the majesty of the idol itself. Every eye turned toward the Altar and saw upon the dais a strange prisoner laughing almost uncontrollably.
'That laugh,' Volthamir said to himself, feeling his heart sink. 'Lord Havoc!?' he said with great surprise and frustration.
'What an excellent show, o conjuror of conjurors!' Rahdmus laughed, 'You have learned every lesson of mine, and learned perfectly. Here you stand, possessed of the very wisdom and power of Agonistes, and here you stand speaking great and bold words concerning his dominion, yet for all of this I perceive that you believe not a word of it! This is nothing but vengeance! Petty, petty vengeance! O you have learned, Prince, to lie well. A sacrifice! A recompense to your god?' When he finished saying this he began to laugh again. 'And they believe it all too!'
'Lord Havoc,' Volthamir said thoughtfully, ignoring all that his old master had said. 'You return at an inopportune hour.'
'Nay,' Rahdmus answered, 'I return at precisely the hour the stars intend. How could I do otherwise?'
'The stars!' Volthamir laughed, still holding the Princess by the wrist. 'Now you speak of the stars as if they were gods. But in the old days you spoke of men in that way. You were the lord of the stars, then, old master.'
'I told you many things, Volthamir, only a little of which was true.'
'Then you should be relieved, old man,' Volthamir said with a shrug, 'for I believed only a little.'
'You believed enough to march to war,' Rahdmus said.
'If you refer to the Naming Stone, then you have truly misunderstood me, Lord Havoc, for I marched not for the sake of your magic stone.'
'Then could it be,' Rahdmus said, 'that you indeed marched at the behest of that devil Agonistes?'
Volthamir laughed, and answered sharply, 'What shall I tell you, old man? Shall I abandon the faith of my fathers? Shall I leave the altar in smolders like the ancients?' From his face, Lord Havoc could tell that he was lying for the sake of those who yet believed in Agonistes.
'Then you leave me no choice,' Rahdmus said as he lifted his hands above his head. The bonds that held him fell limply to the ground. In his hand he held a great stone of pure white. When the light of the fire hit this stone it seemed to turn the whole world into a darkened vault. 'Behold, the Naming Stone, by which the goblins of old became the dumb slaves of Daruvis, and marched at his bidding. What struggles you endured when you lived among the goblins of the Daunrys were not necessary had you this in your possession. This weapon alone threatens Bralahi's mighty throne, which no mortal has hitherto seen, and which lies hidden in the south. I trade it to you, son of Voltan, in exchange only for the woman whose life you now threaten to extinguish.'
At that instant a madness seemed to enter the room, and it was all that the guards could do to prevent the worshippers from seizing the stone that very moment.
The light vanished from Volthamir's eyes for an instant, in which the devil Agonistes strove against his will for the mastery of his body. But the King of Amlaman would not be moved. 'You shall bring yourself to ruin,' Agonistes told him, spitefully.
'Tell me, dark one,' Volthamir said within himself, 'when have I departed from ruin, that I could come to it? I am ruin - and I am not your servant.' A crazed joy seemed to rise up in his heart as he realized that within himself he held captive the dark god of Amlaman.
Volthamir laughed, waiting for the commotion to die away. 'I have indulged you thus far, old man, in deference to your long service to this kingdom. But no longer. You know as well as I that I already have both prizes within my power.' A rather genuine smile broke out across his face.
'There is no power,' Rahdmus answered, his voice sounding like a rolling thunder, 'that is not on loan. You have learned all, even as I have taught you, Volthamir, but your one failure is that you have not learned the limits of that knowledge. For all that your keen eye has observed, it has not occurred to you that there was ought that for all your efforts must remain unobservable.'
'Now I know that Lord Havoc has truly died,' Volthamir said with a hint of sadness in his voice. 'You now sound like one of the Heyan grandmothers, telling fables to their children to get them to BEHAVE themselves.' Volthamir paused for a moment, and then gave a sign to his guards, saying, 'Kill him. I am weary of this drivel.'
Unexpected Allies
Some time during the previous evening a small band of travelers arrived on Sten Agoni, saying that they had come from Ramlos to worshi
p at the Temple. It was a festival day, and it was expected that many noblemen and religious families would be traveling to the mountain. By this time, however, the ceremonies had already begun, and all those who had been expected to arrive had been accounted for. So the coming of this band, some thirty travelers altogether, was wholly unforeseen.
The guards at the foot of the mountain knew not what to make of them, so they sent at once for their captain. By this time the night was fast approaching, and the guards were not willing to remain in that place while they awaited word from the Temple. They took it upon themselves to conduct this party of travelers up the road toward the top of the hill. 'You may lodge here for the night,' they said as they directed the people to their dwellings.
But this the leader of the group flatly refused, nor would he permit any form of argument to sway him from his resolution to, as he put it, 'See the face of god this very night, and celebrate his providence and lordship over the sun of heaven.'
'Blessed are those who serve the god faithfully,' the guards responded, as was customary in such a circumstance. 'But nonetheless, we must await word from Sten Agoni.'
'Then you must pardon us, if we make an attempt to walk up the hill without your permission. You see, we have been sent on an errand of great importance, and cannot be waylaid.'
'If you,' the guards warned, 'or any other among you make such an attempt, we shall not hesitate to draw the sword against you.'
'Very well,' he said, 'But we fear the brokenness of our word more than we fear the swords and scourges of men. Therefore, in accordance with our commission, we will come to the Temple, or perish by your hand this very night.'
The guards, seeing how no words could sway them, and how they were willing, it seemed, to suffer death on account of their request, decided it would be best if they sent word directly to Lord Fanastos, who was now Captain over all the warriors on Sten Agoni.
Night was fully upon them when at last the great warrior of Amlaman appeared. He was very short with them at first, refusing to allow them passage, saying, 'Neither the High Priest nor the King has said anything concerning such worshippers traveling from Heyan. You cannot enter into the Temple this night.'
The leader of the group made great protest, saying they would sue for justice in the King's court in Japhrian, where, he doubted not but that the Captain of Volthamir's armies would be judged and reprimanded with all the severity the Fell Wolf of Heyan could manage.
But for all his pleading, Fanastos would not relent. Finally, when the conversation had ended, another of the travelers approached, saying to the leader with great humility, 'Nay, dear Master Fholstan, we must not press this man any further. You know how it is, my lord, how the mighty say nothing to their servants, yet expect them to obey nonetheless. We cannot expect this man to know his master's will, or to know that which his masters have withheld from his ears.'
At those words Fanastos grew irritable. 'I know my master's will; and I know that he wished for none to approach the mountain save for those noblemen who were already expected at the Festival.'
'Indeed,' the second traveler affirmed, 'And why should our word go against such an expectation. If the King has said that our band shall not come to the mountain, we are in no position to dispute it. I pray he will not be wrathful, then, to learn that the men of Heyan have been turned aside. Will you be good enough, my lord,' he said to Fanastos, 'to tarry in this place while we compose an apology to our lord and King?'
'Indeed,' Fanastos bewildered. But as the men set about compiling their apology, he began to feel sheepish, thinking to himself, 'Why should Fanastos, who has for all these years been captain over the armies of that fiend, now fear to have his own mind.'
'Stay your hand,' he said to the travelers. 'I grant you leave; for I see that you are sincere in your desire to adore the god of Amlaman and Ramlos.'
'Indeed,' the first traveler affirmed, adding, 'and the god of all Weldera!'
Fanastos bowed his head, and ordered them to be conducted to the Temple without delay.
Almost as soon as they entered the Temple, however, this strange party of travelers seemed to vanish into the very walls of the Temple and the very stones of the floor. Here and there Fanastos could see one or perhaps two that he thought had been among them, but all certainty departed from his mind concerning both their sincerity and their purpose. For the remainder of that night and all throughout the day that followed he wandered the Temple and its yards searching for some sign of these strangers. By the end of this time his whole body was soaked with perspiration.
Not Carried Out
For this reason, though all seemed hopeless in that instant, the commands of the King of Amlaman were not carried out. For the moment the guardians of the Temple drew their blades, Forge Collesirne and a dozen of the Noras warriors arose, shouting 'Thaetla!', which is the infamous war cry of the Lapulians, meaning 'Arise Chaos'. Having shouted this, they surrounded the old elf and pointed their blades outward.
'The Black Adder assails us!' the people shouted, thinking the devil worshippers of the east had suddenly come against them. Many of the nobles and worshippers rushed from the Temple in horror. Lamps were kicked down, torches dropped on the stone floor, and shouts and screams echoed through the hilltop. The Temple guards surrounded the men of Noras and began to press toward them, pushing them back toward the Altar, from whence they would not be able to escape.
Their first strike ended in failure, for the Noras were too skilled to be felled so easily. From the rear of the temple another large group of Noras appeared, also shouting 'Thaetla!' These struck down the guards from behind. Short work was made, in this way, of the guards of the Temple. Revere and Jerson, the third son of the fallen Cheftan Aargo Medglirne, shut the doors of the Temple, locking the worshippers in, and, for the time at least, keeping the soldiers of Amlaman out. Fanastos rushed into the skirmish with great hatred in his eyes, knowing now the folly of his pridefulness. He slew three of the Noras warriors before he was confronted at last by Dynamis, who made a quick end of the most famous warrior of Amlaman.
Seeing his men fallen, and perceiving that there now lay nothing between this band of intruders and his own person, Volthamir took his demon sword in hand and turned his fury against the Princess. Rahdmus leaped upon the Altar and threw himself between the King and his prey.
Volthamir did not swing, however, and a look of shock passed over his eyes. 'What is this?' he said with disdain. 'You would trade your life for this?'
Rahdmus bowed his head and set his knee upon the ground. Everyone else in the temple stood fast and watched this marvel with great anxiousness.
'What? Without a fight? Without a battle? Without courage? Is this truly Lord Havoc, of whom so many tales have been told? It surely cannot be!'
'In a sense, my son, it is not,' Rahdmus said, rising from the ground.
'Give this man a sword!' Volthamir demanded. 'Lest I gain no satisfaction from staining this Altar with your blood.'
'I can grant you no such satisfaction, for I am forbidden to take sword in hand.'
The King took a sword from one of his guards and brought it before Rahdmus, holding out the hilt for him. Rahdmus sighed, but lifted not a finger to take it. The King let it fall to the ground, the metal clanging as it struck the stone. He circled around his old teacher, as if to discern whether it truly was the once bold man of mystery. Finally, he knelt down before his master and set his own head against his, saying, 'Now, let us see it! That old Lord Havoc, who was lord of so many men and devils, even keeping the black god of Amlaman as a pet, as it were. You, who knew the secrets of Legion, and who attained all that he desired. Strike off my head, and save this land, if it be your will.'
'I have not come to do my will,' Rahdmus said. 'and I swear to you, my prince, that my will is not to harm you nor to wrest Amlaman from your hands. I have offered you the very power we sought from the beginning, in exchange for this girl, toward whom you no longer bear any affection, and who is
dispossessed of all regality. But now, Volthamir,' Rahdmus wept as he spoke, 'you shall have neither.'
'Indeed,' the King answered, 'your insurrection has seen to that, and I perceive that I cannot escape the snare you have set for me.' With those words he grabbed the mighty elf and threw him off the Atlar with a great cry of anger and hatred. 'I curse you, Lord Havoc, and you cowards of Noras, in Lapulian guise! What is it that you think you can see that I cannot?'
With those words he took up his sword again and grabbed the Princess by the hand. She resisted him, but his iron grip was so strong that she could do naught to prevent him from doing as he wished. He pulled her in front of himself, and set his blade to her throat.
The Devils and the Serpent
All this while Daryas lay as a dead man in the Nunnery of Agonistes, still a great distance from the Temple. The smoke from the burning woods was streaming into the room from below and from the open window. Yet he could not rise to leave, for that devil serpent was yet wrapped about his neck, choking him to death slowly but surely. 'What manner of fate is this?' he wept within himself. The devils of Agonistes came against him with a great fury and tore at him with invisible fingers and claws. His mind went black and he fell into dreadful nightmares, the sorts of which his former horrors had only foreshadowed. Devils roamed openly throughout his imagination and he cried out and tore at his face in anguish of soul.
Mityai rushed upon these devils with a cry and skewered many thousands of them with her spear, but their numbers were so great that even she, empowered with the weapons of heaven though she was, could not manage them all.
But as she fought, a light appeared in the room, and Paley once more appeared before her, born as it were from the light of Theodysus above. 'Leave them,' he said to her, 'I will see to their end.'
At that moment, a small devil fled from the room and vanished into the woods. 'go after him, Mityai, and cast him down to the deepest of hells, but return to me without delay when you have done this.'
Though she was greatly vexed, for the sake of Daryas she obeyed without hesitation.
When she had gone, Paley looked down at the swarming devils. He lifted his finger in the air and a burst of light came forth, like lightning leaping from one cloud to another. In the next instant, the room was empty and the devils utterly destroyed.
'Now to see to this serpent of yours,' he said, turning his attention to the young Galvahirne. 'Such a clinging devil is not uncommon for men such as you,' he said. 'Men are born with so much passion and so much angst; against which their knowledge alone has little power. But this is not the way it was meant to be from the beginning. Think not, however, my son, that life is meant to be cruel. For that Power which lies beneath all the sundry manifestations of this world will not leave off his work until the very last of his wishes be made manifest. When a man is at last confronted by what he ought to be, the result is always that choking, sinking sorrow of remorse. You know, as many others have found, that the love of life drives one to many sorrows. Nonetheless, all men love their own lives, and cherish them. Our duties then, insofar as they oppose our desires, become to us a burden and a bloodletting devil, even as they have become to you. When a man is at last in such a state he will often fail to perceive that the very source of his disappointment and remorse is at the same moment the source and fountain from which is begotten the very life he loves. Duty! What is man for if he is not man for a reason? And if he has such a reason, then it will ever bind him, as chains bind a prisoner. Misery this will be to the willful man, who cannot relinquish his own desires.
'I perceive, my son, that you are ready to be free of this suffering. I cannot free you from this serpent entirely, for a part of him is a part of your own soul, and he must ever be with you. But let the light of Theodysus shine upon you, and remove from your neck the sting and wound of this biting demon.'
Paley took the serpent into his hand and began to uncoil it from Daryas' throat. Daryas gasped and drew in the air, putting his hands upon Paley's strong arm. Inch by inch he unwrapped the snake until at last all that remained was its fierce head and jaws, locked into the flesh of the young Noras warrior. 'Release him,' Paley said to the devil with a calm voice, 'for mankind will not always be filled with rebellion.'
The serpent seemed to understand his words, and it released him, and came into Paley's hand. He set the creature on the floor and watched it slither into the darkness, vanishing from sight.
Daryas arose at that moment and put his hand to his neck, asking, 'The serpent and the wound alike are gone. Is this your work, master?'
'Some of it is mine,' he answered, 'But all of my works belong to another, and for what good I do I cannot accept any praise. I removed only the serpent,' he said. 'It was the tears of Leonara, which streamed across your flesh that have completed your recovery.
'I knew not that tears could have have such a power.'
'In all things is hidden more than can be seen,' Paley said kindly, 'Even in your own soul.'
Daryas looked to the floor and said, 'What could be hidden within me?'
'Perhaps a tear,' Paley said with a smile, 'or perhaps a great deal more.'
At that moment Daryas realized that the Princess was gone, and the memory of her abduction returned to his mind.
'Leonara!' he shouted, suddenly remembering what had happened. 'What have I done! What has my shadow wrought!'
'Nothing that cannot be mended by he who lends power to all. What is good will come to pass, fail as you wish. But strive as you wish for that which is good and you will find yourself caught up in a mighty flood that cannot be bound or halted.'
The Swiftest god
The small devil that escaped the light of Paley, was Zefru, who had, above all other qualifications, a great propensity for preserving his own soul. 'That was altogether too near the mark,' he said as he flew from the Temple on swift feet. 'Never more shall I be seen in this land; never more shall I serve the gods of Weldera.'
But ere he had passed from sight, Mityai appeared in all her glory, carrying her spear in her hand.
Perceiving that she meant to pursue him, Zefru turned and challenged her, saying, 'What can you do to me, sprite? For I, among all the immortals, have the swiftest foot and the surest step.'
'Yet you know not my name,' Mityai answered. 'How then can you make such a judgment? Such is the folly of all men and gods who leap from knowing some one or two or three thousand things to thinking themselves to have knowledge of all. I shall teach your dark feet better!'
With this rejoinder given, she lay aside her weapons and her armor and chased after him, darting from the Nunnery like an arrow released from its string.
At first Zefru thought he would pass into the east, and from thence, south to Kharku to disappear without a worry. But as this somber race continued, he perceived that his pursuer was ever gaining upon him. His confidence left him and he turned his attention to the dangers at hand.
The terrain over which they ran, and the many rivers and lands they traversed in that short while would be uninteresting to recount and unnecessary to understand. Suffice it to say, they traversed the Daunrys and passed into Noras, where Zefru hoped to escape his assailant. By the time he had reached Gavl Lake, he was running like a madman, being unable to give any thought to his next step.
When at last he was overtaken, he flung himself to the ground and sued for peace, saying, 'Blessed are the gods who overthrow the old order, and who set to right all that the devils have hitherto done. You have overcome me, now I shall be your servant forevermore.'
'Even as you have sworn to Agonistes before?'
'Even as I thus swore!' he assured her.
'And then to Ghestik, his servant?'
'Even so, I swear.'
'And then again, as you swore to Agonistes upon his return?'
Zefru became silent as swiftly as he had run.
'What use have the heavens of such an erring star as you? What use has a carpenter of a tool that cuts both
wood and flesh?'
He stepped back, knowing that he had nothing to answer. The thought of Kharku came to him again. He made as if to run southward, and ran off in a full sprint. But when Mityai darted off after him, he turned abruptly and struck her in the throat, running in the opposite direction with all the speed he could muster.
When she had recovered, she stood upon her feet and called out, in a voice that echoed through all that land. 'Zefru, you servant of darkness, whithersoever the highest wages were paid, there has your heart always been loyal. But you have overlooked that in addition to power and honor, there are other wages for treachery and deceit!' Saying this, she lifted her bare arm to heaven, and took from the air a great bow, forged in starlight, and glowing with the light of the seven brothers Septimai, who the Knarse say reign over the wicked in hell. She set a single arrow to the string and let it fly into the north. It followed hard after the devil, who by now had run more than a league from her. When he turned, the arrow turned to follow, and when he dodged between the thick trees of Noras, the arrow likewise dodged, until he perceived that there was naught he could do to escape it. At last, when he could bear it no more, he turned and made one desperate attempt to snatch the astral missile from the air. It burnt his invisible fingers and pierced his shoulder without resistance, felling him for all his treachery in an instant.
Realization of Dreams
Paley had scarcely finished speaking when Mityai returned to him, her pursuit of the devil Zefru at an end. She was once more arrayed in the armor of heaven and she carried with her the spear of Paley. 'Now, Mityai, take this child to his destiny. It is the hour of the judgment of the gods.'
Daryas found himself suddenly alone, seeing now no sign of what had come to pass. He found the sword of Hiron laying at his feet. He took this into his hands and rushed from the tower.
The fire was now climbing up the very walls of the Nunnery, and Daryas scarcely escaped the building with his life. All the while he called out the name of his beloved, 'Leonara!'. Knowing there was nowhere else she could have been taken, he made his way north through the burning forest toward the Temple. The flames leapt about him and seemed to his eyes like so many devils, seeking to lick his life away like a wolf licks the blood of its prey. He pressed on, not knowing that it was the shield of Mityai that kept the fires of Fuehar, that devilish elemental, from harming him.
When he emerged at last from the flames, he found himself surrounded by many hundreds of Amlamani soldiers. He stood right before their eyes, but they saw him not. Mityai unloosed her flowing hair and wrapped it around him, shielding the firelight from illuminating him.
Seeing that the door of the Temple was held fast, and seeing the many hundreds of warriors and guards surrounding the entrance on every side, he felt his chances would be better if he sought out some other entrance. Mityai secretly led him around to the northeastern side of the Temple where there were several large drains that had been neglected since the ancient days. Perceiving that these must have, at least in the ancient days, led into the Temple, Daryas crawled inside and vanished into the darkness. Whether it was the direction of Mityai, or some memory from his many visions, Daryas rushed through the labyrinthine waterways swiftly and with ease. He came at last to a great pool, carved with the white stones of Dadron. The stones of the pool were severely damaged, however, and no water could be held within them.
Down several narrow halls he ran until at last he saw a great flicker of lights ahead. Three guards withstood him, but he cast them aside and dashed ahead, giving no thought to whether or not they pursued him.
When he came at last to the Temple and to the place where the Altar and idol of the dark good stood, he stopped short and felt his breath bleed from his lungs. A voice now spoke, and he recognized it at once as the voice that had so sorely troubled him for all these years. It said, 'There was a time, Lord Havoc, when you sought to do great evil and to rise above all the tyrants of the past. But you have failed, so now you make an attempt at virtue. But I will see to it now that your virtue goes as unrewarded as your mischief.'
'My son!' Rahdmus pleaded, 'Do not do this thing, do not cut off she who alone has always bore you goodwill, though you have become unworthy of it. You know, Volthamir, that you cannot do right in harming this girl.' When he saw that his entreaty was not being received he said in desperation, 'Take at least, my life in her stead. For it was I who led your uncle to slay his cousin; a thing he would never have done without my guidance. It was I who led your uncle to humiliate you, pouring out poison in this very Temple. Slay me, for you know as well as I, that the elves are for all their pretensions, yet mortal.'
'Mortal?' Volthamir said with an empty grin, 'So you say. We are all mortal; and you above all others know what that means in the end.' He then looked about the room, to see if there was any hope of escape.
His own warriors were still locked out, though it was certain that even now they were preparing to batter down the doors. But he could not hope to withstand the many swords of the Noras warriors for long. His heart sunk and he breathed quickly, hating himself for feeling fear in the face of death. 'Mortal,' he muttered. Then he turned once more to Rahdmus and spoke those words that had echoed in Daryas' mind for all these years:
'Answer me swiftly mortal, for I am about to die. Forget Hell and Flame; forget god and gavel. Leave behind you all superstition and sympathy and answer me truly. Why should I, at the moment of my death, choose that which is right over that which I have always desired? For I have paid my dues and now I have but one last choice to make.'
With that he pushed the sword so hard against the Princess' throat that it drew blood from her neck, which dripped onto her white dress. Her face turned white and she shut her eyes, streaming tears down her cheeks like a waterfall. Suddenly, the mighty hand of Volthamir felt a greater power act upon it, pulling his arm away from Leonara's throat with irresistible might. The Princess, now freed, fled to the side of Daryas, who now stood between the King and his victim.
'Galvahirne,' he said with disdain, 'Ever does your breed bring insult to the people of Amlaman.' He lifted his sword and prepared to strike.
The clash of his evil blade against Aevangelu was fierce and loud, shaking the very walls of the Temple it seemed. Light poured from the blades as the spirits of Legion poured their malice into each of the King's attacks. But Aevangelu dispelled every dark soul and slew the spirits even as they struck against it. Weaker and weaker the King's blows grew and Daryas' stronger, until at last the King fell back onto the ground.
'I have come to answer your riddle, lord Aganthos,' Daryas said with a great calmness in his voice. 'So long as you measure every deed according to your own ambitions, you will never find reason to sacrifice your own pleasure. There is no answer, then; and there is nothing to stop you from pursuing your own ends even to the end. For who ever said that doing good meant having good? There is naught left, then, but to make a choice and cast your lot with God or with the Devil. But whether you think there be gods or no, it matters not; for we are not judged according to what knowledge is given to us, but according to that which is made manifest by the path we choose. Herein the denier will always have the disadvantage that at the outset they have chosen to reject that wherein alone they might find righteousness. But if you are looking in this life for profit, then there is naught that any man can say to you.'
Volthamir flew into a rage and knocked the son of Biron to the ground, bringing his sword down swiftly upon him. But Daryas caught his wrist and, thrust his own blade through the King's chest. All the strength and might of Agonistes passed from him in that instant and he fell, as all men must, to the ground in death.
Rahdmus leapt atop the Altar and took his lifeless body into his arms, weeping and crying, 'Would that I might have been punished in your stead! For your crimes and mine are one and the same.' There he remained for a short while, mourning bitterly the loss of his old student, wishing that Daryas would drive a sword through his own heart as w
ell.
Daryas fell to his knees in exhaustion and took the Princess in his arms. There they knelt and embraced one another, each weeping for the sorrows of the other.
But it still remained that surrounding the Temple were many thousands of warriors, still sworn to the perished king, and many terrified worshippers, still hiding within the Temple itself. In a moment these might burst forth and make an end of the small band of Galva heroes. But at that instant, the fires of Agonistes began to wax hot and the whole Altar became illuminated by the fire of the idol's eyes. Smoke billowed from his nostrils, and a great sound echoed from below, speaking words that could not be understood.
'What is this?' Daryas asked, growing uneasy.
'It is nothing,' Rahdmus answered, coming to his senses. 'It is the death cry of the old superstition, and the final gasp of the Welderan gods. My former works are undone at last.'
Yet it remained that the people began to prostrate themselves before the idol, thinking the murder of the king to have angered him. Such was the lamentation of the priests of Agonistes that even some of the Noras grew afraid, thinking indeed that the dark god was prepared to avenge himself upon them. Rahdmus drew near to the mouth of the god and, taking the Naming Stone from beneath his garments, he, with a slight reluctance, let it slide into the mouth of the idol. It rolled down his iron throat and lodged itself within some unseen place. The great voice of the dark god echoed through the Temple still, not daunted by this blasphemous act. But when once again the attempt was made to frighten the people with flame and light, there was naught but the groan of iron, and the fire and smoke alike were stopped up. There was a great burst of flame, and the dark god sunk into the earth a whole three feet, the head breaking off its foundation and shattering to pieces upon the ground. The ancient machinery that had hitherto ensnared the people of Amlaman was no more. Agonistes was now, to them, naught but a broken stone.
The Noras cheered while the holy men of Agonistes lamented; for the fraud that had for all these ages been inflicted upon the devout men of Agonistes was now revealed. All was confusion and chaos until Rahdmus lifted his voice to the people. 'Men of Amlaman, men of Ramlos, servants of that god who now lies dead before your eyes. Do you not now see that the power that lives and breathes within us does not, as this idol did, depend upon us for its might and influence. Turn away from the false gods of your fathers, and let your old faith lay in rubble, even as this devil now lies.
'Warriors of Amlaman and guardians of Sten-Agoni, bear witness to this, before you lies the body of Voltan's heir, who once was king over Amlaman. By his uncle's will, and by his own craven deeds, he bore upon his brow the Dual Crown of Joplis, which before Vulcan, none but your first father had worn. I call you to bear record with me, that the lordship of Ramlos must now pass to the daughter of Vulcan, who was rightful king of the northern realm. But of the south, let the remaining sons of Voltan come forth to make their claims without war or subtlety, and we will try their cases and hear their petitions, but only of those who have not engaged in seditious wars and violent uprisings against this land. For he who slays his kinsmen in rebellion is only a little better than he who slays them in tyranny.'