Chapter IV:
The Sword and the Spear
Paley Speaks
For all his power, Lord Pelas Parganascon, King of Alwan and (to his mind at least) rightful Lord over all Bel Albor, was very seldom in a good mood. He felt as though his counselors were deceitful, his servants spiteful and his captains and guards incompetent. He strongly believed that the only thing that held his kingdom together against his brother's realm was his own will, strength and wisdom. Several of his counselors advised him to marry, and thereby make sure the rule of Alwan in ages to come. But the very idea of bearing a son seemed entirely beneath him. Whether he bore a son or not, he would never think of the child as an heir - as a replacement. To bear children would be to admit his mortality in a sense, and go against all the divine pretensions with which he had shrouded his mind for the past age.
There would be no Doom Path for the son of Pelas - for there would be no son.
The war with Ilvas had ground to a halt as each side made their preparations for the coming winter. Spring would bring war, and each side would shake off the winter's chill and march through rain and wind to fight for the Thedul region of Alwan. The dwarves, by and large, had left Alwan, forsaking the troubles of the elves for the sake of - Pelas could not imagine. He would deal with them eventually, and when the time came his wrath would be severe. He never saw the dwarves as anything more than a weapon of his enemy Agonas.
They were a powerful, weapon, however, and it was good that they had gone. Agonas was no doubt cursing the day he decided to trust them, mortal as they are. Even if you get a man to swear loyalty to the throne, and to swear loyalty for his children's children, it still remained that the man would die and his oath with him. He could bring himself to trust none but the elves, as though elves were somehow immune to change.
It was, in fact, a change among the elves that was his chief concern at the moment. Amro had taken charge over the forces of Dalta, and his wisdom and strength were enough to put even the lords of Alwan in awe. Moreover, so highly honored was Amro throughout Bel Albor that Pelas feared (and he was very nearly correct) that the other high elves would refuse to fight against him. On at least two occasions Falruvis and his son drank wine in the tents of Amro while the mortals under their command besieged the armies of Ilvas. The great War of Peace that had raged ever since Agonas returned from Kharku remained within the hearts of the elves, regardless of how Agonas and Pelas felt about the matter. An eternal war was being fought between these nations - a war the sorrows of which served to unite the mortals, whose memories are short, against one another while leaving the elves to eat and drink in leisure. With few exceptions the high elves themselves were largely untouched by the fighting.
With all these things on his mind, it did not surprise his servants when Lord Pelas ordered the hall emptied, and refused to permit any further frustrations to approach him. His guards shut the door and barred the way of any who dared approach him.
Nonetheless, he found himself face to face with a strange man, garbed in plain brown robes with a rope tied around his waist for a belt.
'You have heard my name before,' Paley replied after Pelas demanded his name and his purpose. 'The memories of elves are long indeed,' he continued, 'but it seems they too pass away without entering the minds of their descendants.'
'Guards!' Pelas thundered, tired already of the man's voice - he hated any mortal who did not speak to him as though he were in fear for his life. Indeed, for a mortal to be in his presence was to be in danger.
'My lord?' a tall, golden haired elf asked, entering with several spearmen in his train.
'I asked to be left undisturbed,' he roared.
The man looked around and, seeing no one, answered weakly, 'I understand sir. You will not be troubled any longer; we have barred the doors and no one shall enter your hall.'
Pelas seemed to calm down after that, but his eyes bulged with amazement when the guards departed without so much as looking at the intruder.
'Guards!' Pelas called again. After they had entered he stood and said, 'What must I do to find a man in Alwan who will obey me? I said I want no disturbances whatsoever. None, do you understand. You are to let no one enter.'
The man looked as though he finally understood, nodding to himself as he looked at Pelas. 'I understand, my lord, I beg your forgiveness.' With that he turned and ordered the other guards from the room.
After that Pelas called thrice more, but the guard did not return - for not wanting to disobey Pelas' command to be left undisturbed.
Pelas was left alone with the strange messenger. 'I will slay you myself, then,' Pelas said, rising in great wrath from his throne. But as he started toward Paley the robed man seemed to back away - he did not walk away, he was simply out of reach, regardless of how Pelas tried to approach him. As soon as he relented he found himself seated once again, as if his whole attempt had been but a daydream.
'I have come to give you power, Lord Pelas, power over the lives of many,' Paley began, when Pelas had finally given up his assault. 'Not five years from now this whole land will have perished, and everyone within it who does not flee at once. Prove yourself their lord, then, and fly with them. Lead them into the south and establish your kingdom elsewhere. The destruction of Bel Albor has been foretold within your ears. And when the end of Bel Albor comes, you will be revered above all men. But if you heed not this warning, neither you nor your people will survive, save for those who have been chosen by he who chooses all things.' Paley put such an emphasis on that last word that Pelas started back for an instant.
'You have come to give me power over men? That,' Pelas said scornfully, 'I have already. Shall you give me the throne of Alwan also?'
'I have opened the door for you,' Paley shrugged, 'but if the will to walk therethrough lies not within you, what can be done about it? You sit upon the throne, but there is one who holds all thrones.'
In an instant Paley had vanished, leaving Pelas in a darker mood than any of his servants could recall. He stormed through the door and vanished into his bedchambers, not to emerge until late the following day.
Paley stood still in the throne room, standing beside a similarly robed figure. 'You see, brother,' the other man said - neither of them could be seen or heard by the others, 'Telling them the truth will do no good; it will only show that they are fools. Do not ever think that warning men of that which is to come will change their hearts from black to white. It may change their actions, like a sailor harboring because of the storm darkened sky. But that does not change the nature of the sailor. Even if we could, by our words, change the course of Alwan, it would not make white that which is crimson. Teach a murderer to fear the gallows, and you may save his life - but you have not saved his soul. You must teach him to see his fellow man as if he were his right arm if you are to truly change him. We are not servants of Time; we do not strive to make things right or best, but to make known the truth. He will do even as he meant to do from the beginning, but he will have no solace, for your words will hang over his head day and night.'
'I understand, my lord Daryas,' Paley answered. 'It is hard to see so many men led about by their ambitions and their whims. It is especially difficult to watch men such as the elves of Alwan, who have more potential than any other race of men.'
'Have you been with me for so long, and seen all that you have seen yet without understanding? There is only what they are - they no more have potential than they have horns. Do not let the Dragon deceive you, Paley.'
'Is the Dragon not of this world only, then?' Paley asked with surprise.'
'He is not always called the Dragon, child,' Daryas answered. 'But he is always the same - he dwells where nothing dwells, for he is nothing, but when you are blinded by desire, you will see him and be led astray by falsehood.'
'Why do we have a foe? Why must there be one to resist the King?' Paley asked.
'Nothing can resist the King,' Daryas explained. 'The King is
All, therefore the only thing remaining - the only thing that remains to resist him is nothing. So nothing resists him, and being nothing, it does not resist him. When man is in error, however, he takes nothing to be something, and thereby believes that there is, in man, a power to resist what is - a power to resist the Hidden Name of Truth. But he has not resisted the King - he has just misunderstood. In truth, he is in all worlds, for all worlds permit this error, but, being error, he is in no world at all, and has no part in anything whatsoever.'
'Is there no way to defeat the Dragon? For how can a man defeat nothing?' Paley asked.
'Nothing vanishes the moment we understand the Truth - the moment we speak the Hidden Name we have driven him back.'
'But why must he be in the first place?' Paley asked.
'He is not; that is what it is to be nothing,' Daryas answered. 'How can one make nothing? And how can one destroy nothing once it has been made? The Dragon is not something, that he can "be" at all, let alone "be" in the first place. But insofar as all things have their substance in the Hidden Name it will always seem as though one thing, being of the same substance as all the rest, could be like all the rest. Since all worlds have their substance in the Hidden Name, there can be no world where this danger does not appear.'
'But why?' Paley asked.
'Because the nature of a name is to stand over many things; and when men take the names instead of the things for their guide, they see the many and not the actual, which alone is the truth. Should a man perish at eighty years of age, and another at twenty, men would say that a man could die at either time. But men only die when they die, which is always at the time they die. To say they could have lived longer, or could have lived shorter is to take that which is true of men, generally, and pretend that it is true of one single man. This is the root of the Dragon's power, and insofar as the very substance of things is in their names, and not in themselves, his power cannot be separated from any world. But the teaching of the Truth destroys him wherever he dwells. So we have not come here to correct the course of events, but to bring men to the truth; though knowledge always changes something, it is the knowledge and not the change with which we are concerned.'
'Do not let yourself be discouraged, then,' Daryas added, 'by their stubbornness. Pelas will make himself a fool, but his folly will instruct many in the Truth. There can be no world without the Hidden Name, and with it the danger of the Dragon. But to ask for it not to be is absurd - for the Hidden Name is Being itself, and you cannot ask that which is to not be any more than you can ask of a sphere that it have corners.'
Sunlan Rises
Agonas was in every way his brother's equal. But Fate cares nothing for equality, raising the low and lowering the mighty as she sees fit. He too was visited by Paley, who had promised that each time he came would be marked by the diminishing of Agonas' might. Agonas liked the visit no better than Pelas, and took it fearfully as a sign of impending madness. He had been at this rivalry for too long without acting himself, and the worry that came with trusting others to do his will had taken its toll on him, he believed. 'It is time to rise above the fool,' he said coldly to Gheshtick and his other counselors. To Zefru he said, 'Kill whoever you can among the high elves of Alwan, I care not whom - even if you must slay Pelas himself.'
Zefru nodded with a grin and, with very little speaking, vanished from Sunlan and from history forever. His only reappearance would be in the form of corpses, turning up all over Alwan and Ilvas. The most notable among these being Ginat, the bodyguard of Lord Pelas himself, who was found in his bed one morning with a dagger in his back.
Gheshtick was given command over the eastern portion of Sunlan, from Centan to Evnai Port. Agonas knew that he was not a warrior at heart. Leaving the defense of Sunlan to him would be more prudent than sending him at the head of an army. Agonas himself would lead his forces, first into Ilvas, and then into Alwan itself. He would kill Pelas and avenge himself for all the wrongs his brother had inflicted upon him, or he would perish in the attempt. He was weary with life; and he almost didn't care which way the contest fell. Hatred for his brother alone drove him to do anything more than cut his own throat and make an end of his long suffering.
An army such as had never been seen in Bel Albor crossed the Esse River that Spring. The force of Agonas crossed over Ilvas to come to Amro's aid along the Thedul River. The armies of Alwan fled at the very rumor of Agonas, the King of Sunlan, Beastslayer and son of Parganas. Villages emptied, walled cities shut their gates, fortified towns were burned with fire. Whole cities were put to the sword at the slightest provocation, and only those who swore loyalty to Ilvas or to Sunlan were spared.
Pelas gathered his armies around Alwan, very clearly expecting a siege. But it was not to be. One little word would turn the course of the whole war, and break forever what power Agonas might have held to the west of the Esse.
As Agonas subdued Lushlin, driving Bralohi and his brother out of the region with thousands of elvish refugees (they left the mortal men to fend for themselves), Amro pressed hard against the army of Maru and Daruvis, forcing them to retreat entirely into Alwan for a time. By the end of the following summer, the strength of Agonas had reached its peak, and a force of men, led by Amro, entered into the northern marches of Alwan.
They entered Thedval from the northeast, crossing the Thedul River into Alwan from the north.
No Oaths
The goblin bell rang out in the center of town, and the people of Thedval began to panic. It was a hot summer morning, and not a cloud could be seen. It would have been a beautiful day were it not for the distant shouts and the frantic ringing from the town. Runners were sent to every nearby farm and people gathered together in large groups. Some of these came to the center of town with hammers and pitchforks; some of the newcomers came with shortswords. Most people hid away, however, not sure what to do. They usually just locked their doors and waited for the goblins to raid their barns and make off with their excess. But these invaders were not goblins. Amro and his brother Ghastin led a great force of men from Ilvas into the valley, and wherever they were opposed they slew without mercy, coming at last to the village itself.
When it became clear to them that they could elicit no oaths of loyalty from these people - no oaths of any kind could have been drawn from them - they threatened to put the whole place to the sword and burn every house with fire. The Wisemen came forward and stood between the armed men of Thedval and the soldiers of Ilvas - standing there until the very last, suing for peace. To the fighters they said, 'Put away your weapons, or put away the name Peaceful, which our master gave to his followers.' To the others, they simply said, 'Killing to save is still killing for ends, be they whatsoever you will. There is another way.'
Ghastin grew impatient with their pleading and demanded their allegiance at once. When it was not forthcoming he gestured to his soldiers and drew his own blade. They first cut down the Wisemen, and then made their way to the fighters of Thedval, who stood not a chance against them. One among them seemed to have had some experience in combat, and he slew one man of Ilvas ere falling to Ghastin's sword. The others, however, fell without so much as scratching one of Ghastin's men. Sazo, standing between Ilvas and Thedval as it were, was cut down without mercy to bleed his life out into the dirt of the street.
When word came to the farms of what had happened, the people of Thedval fled in every direction. Nihls rode Urian out from the village itself and made his way quickly toward Garam's house, where now dwelt Giretta and Noro. But he found Amarin coming along the road with Ebbe clutching his arm tightly. Her father, Huriel, had been among those who perished in the village. When Nihls saw her face he froze and looked at her sorrowfully. She at once understood his glance and said, 'No, Nihls, tell me it is not so - tell me!'
Nihls could say nothing, he just shook his head. She buried her face in Amarin's chest.
'We have to flee, Nihls. Come with us!' Amarin said urg
ently.
'No, friend,' he answered. 'Who will warn Noro and Giretta?'
'Noro is gone already,' Amarin said. 'He vanished with the first sound of the bells, and Garam took Giretta an hour later, heading into the south.'
'Then they are safe?' Nihls asked, worry apparent in his voice.
'They are safer than we are at least, or at least, as safe as any can be right now,' Amarin answered. 'We have no time. Let us go south also, and find the others.'
'Not yet. Take Ebbe and find Giretta and her father, if you can. I have to see if there are others who have not yet escaped the valley.'
'Nihls,' Amarin said, looking somberly into his eyes, 'be careful. They say there are elf lords among them.'
Nihls' face turned white, but he just nodded and turned to ride off, heading back down the path upon which he had come. He began to recite some of Abbon's more comforting teachings to himself, but nothing could stop his hands from shaking. He turned aside at every farm to make sure that there were none who had not yet been warned. When at last the village came within sight he saw two figures hurrying along the road. Upon seeing him the two parted, each running in a separate direction. One of them, however, did not seem to be fleeing in earnest. Nihls could tell from where he stood that the quicker of them wore skirts. When he drew close enough the slower runner stopped and called out, 'Nihls? Is it you, boy?'
He recognized the voice as belonging to Teacher Eren.
'Wise Eren,' he said, bowing his head slightly before directing Urian's steps toward him.
The older man looked suspiciously at the sword on his belt. 'I am blessed to see you safe.' Nihls assumed that the man had run slowly in order to make sure that, had Nihls been an enemy, he would pursue him rather than his wife.
'I have heard that some of the youths and many of the strangers went to the village to fight. I was afraid that you were among them,' the man said.
'Do not worry, Teacher,' Nihls answered. 'I know the Teachings. I have slain no one.'
Eren nodded, and then asked, 'Have you news of anyone else? What of Giretta and the other youths?'
'Amarin and Ebbe are well, though Huriel was slain in the village. I was seeking Garam and Giretta, but they have already fled. I do not know where Noro went, but I believe he knows of the attack.'
'What of Meidi?' Eren asked, the fear apparent in his voice. 'The bells do not echo in the halls of Teacher Canhon, they say.'
'What do you mean?' Nihls asked impatiently.
'I mean,' Eren explained, surprised that the youth had never heard the expression, 'The warning bells have never been heard in Meidi's home - the lay of the land prevents it. Has anyone gone to them?'
'I do not know,' Nihls said, shaking his head.
'You were in the village?' Eren asked. 'Yet you did not see Canhon among the Wisemen?'
Nihls shook his head. The heir of Candorion the Blest would not have remained aloof had he been warned of the danger.
'There is nothing we can do now,' Eren said resignedly. 'We must leave it to the King to decide.'
'We must leave it to the King,' Nihls said, 'whether we do anything about it or no. Amarin and the others are all heading south. There are nothing but goblins and ice in the Far North, so we have no choice but to go to Alwan. Find your family and go south also - I will follow shortly.'
'Where are you going?' Eren asked with concern.
Nihls hesitated for a moment. 'I,' he paused, 'Someone has to warn Canhon!'
The Spear
When Noro heard the warning bells that morning, softly disturbing the morning quiet, he bolted from his bed as wide awake as he might have been at high noon. He dressed rapidly, cursing the whole while.
Giretta rose after him, her eyes filled with concern. 'What is it, Noro?' she asked.
'The bells,' Noro replied. 'It is goblins or worse again,' he said.
'Again?' she yawned. It seemed as though every week brought another raid. Some believed that allowing strangers into Thedval had angered the Eternal King, and that he had withdrawn his protection over them.
'What will you do?' she asked.
'I don't know,' he said. 'But I will not sit and allow us to be robbed again. We have little enough most years without the raids, and these strangers are enough like goblins to make locks necessary on most of the houses in the village. It is a good thing there are so many locksmiths among them, or we would have been picked clean by the lot of them.'
'They are not all thieves,' Giretta said as she took up her brush. 'You cannot blame them all, husband.'
'And neither can I tell one from the other. So long as that is true I will keep my eyes open.'
She sighed and turned her attention to her mother's old mirror. What she beheld disgusted her. She knew that she was far from unsightly, but she also knew that there was very little she could do to lessen the disappointment of her husband short of transforming herself into the likeness of his true love. As much as she despised Meidi, she was convinced that were there a magic strong enough she would choose without hesitation to become the other woman.
Her heart fell as though it had fallen into her stomach.
Of late they had been quarreling quite a bit about that very subject. She had thought it frustrating when Nihls would say nothing evil of her rival. But Noro would not stop praising the woman, and he spoke carelessly and openly about how he had been 'deceived' into marrying Giretta. Whenever a temper took him he accused her of conspiring with her father to deceive him.
Lost in her dark thoughts she did not even realize that Noro had left the house.
By the time Noro arrived in Thedval village the Wisemen already lay dead upon the ground, slain by Ghastin and his men. From across the street he saw Nihls, riding out of the village by the southern road, his useless sword hanging at his side in its scabbard. He cursed the coward and then made his way toward the bodies that lay upon the ground, ducking behind a wooden trough for secrecy. When the warriors of Ghastin had passed he sprang from his hiding place and searched through the dead. There he found Sazo, his Teacher, lying innocent in his own blood. Though their beliefs concerning warfare and slaying were drawn from the doctrines of Theodysus himself, who taught that a man can only kill himself in another man, he blamed all the weakness and cowardice of his people on Teacher Abbon, who had, in the days of his popularity, been known for his love of peace more than any of the other Teachers. He had said, Noro had heard, that, 'True Justice can only be done when a man suffers evil, willingly before the Eternal King.'
Noro spat upon the ground as anger welled up within him. 'What folly is this doctrine?' he thought bitterly. 'How will the world learn of Theodysus, if we do not tell them? And how will we tell them if we perish? And how will we not perish if we let every man have his way with us?' He looked once more into his Teacher's pale face and then, shaking his head in rage he took up a spear that had fallen among the bodies and followed after the warriors of Ilvas.
It did not take him long to find the warriors. They marched boldly through Thedval, knowing that more than half the villagers would surrender their own lives before fighting and that the other half would fall easily. He waited in the shadows until the mass of them had departed from the village's southern gates. Several of the Ilvas warriors remained in the village, however, keeping watch over the houses to make sure that there were no further incidents. Noro approached these men silently and sprang upon them when they faced the opposite direction. In a single leap his spear pierced through a man's back and burst from his chest in a spray of blood.
Stunned by his own actions, Noro struggled for a moment to keep his balance. Another warrior came upon him and he only had enough time to pull the spear free from the first man's corpse before the other man slashed him across the chest with his sword. He stumbled backward and the shaft of his spear struck the other man across the cheek as he fell. He rose and took advantage of the fortuitous blow to pierce the other man through the stomach.
He
approached the fallen warrior and spat upon him where he lay.
'No,' the man pleaded. 'Please... don't.'
Noro's face filled with wrath and he snorted, 'Shall I tend your wounds now, when you tended not the wounds of Wise Sazo? Or shall I spare the life of he who spared not the life of another? Shall I leave unpunished he who has rendered himself worthy of all damnation?' He struck again, making an end of the warrior. As he stared at the body he thought, 'It was better anyway, to end his suffering.'
He darted from the village, following after the other warriors.
The Sword
The home of Canhon was one of the larger homes in Thedval. It was not a mansion or an estate by any means; it was, like most other houses outside the main village, a farm house. But long years of eminence among the Enthedu had brought the family a great deal of fame and wealth. Canhon was one of the few among the Enthedu that could trace their ancestry back to the time of Theodysus himself. Their first father was the son of Blest Candorian and Blest Leai Eslunana, who had both seen and heard the Guarantor (they called Theodysus this because in him, the believe, the success of the Eternal King in his creation was made clear).
Whether for good or ill, this lineage gave the family of Meidi a prominence in counsel that no other family possessed. There were some, indeed, who could trace their ancestry back to the first days of the Enthedu, and even some who could trace their history back to the all but extinct Essenes of Sunlan and Ilvas. But there were no others who had two of the Blest among their ancestors - and Candorian was the first to see and understand the great star that now bore the name of their master.
When Nihls approached the large farmhouse surrounded by warriors, his heart sank. There were at least thirty men on the property, ten or eleven of whom were huddled near the front door. He could hear them pounding on the door and shouting something at whoever was inside. Standing just behind them was an ominous figure; an elf, Nihls assumed, towering over the others with dark hair and the finest sword he had ever seen scabbarded at his waist. Nihls dismounted some ways from the house and crept forward slowly, keeping himself hidden among tall stalks of wheat. He was just about a stone's throw from the front door. He watched anxiously from a distance, too terrified to do anything other than watch.
Displeased by whatever they heard from within, one of the warriors came forward with an axe in his hand. It took them much longer than they expected to break the strong wooden door off its hinges, but as soon as it fell a man came hurtling from the doorway, spreading himself out and dragging the whole lot of them to the ground. Nihls recognized the man's neatly cropped gray hair as belonging to Canhon. 'Run!' he shouted, as soon as he had breath again. While everyone watched him struggle desperately with the warriors, a slender figure slipped from the doorway and ran down the walk, her long skirts dancing about in the wind as she fled. The elf nodded in her direction and two men pursued her.
It was Meidi, Nihls could tell, even from a distance.
'No, please! Let her be!' Canhon begged before a sword pierced his throat. The elf seemed to look upon him with pity, though he did nothing to stop his death.
Nihls could hear Meidi weeping loudly, even as she ran. Her pursuers reached her just as she neared the tall grass where Nihls lay hidden. Her cries became frantic as she realized they had caught up with her. At that moment Nihls leaped from the grass and rolled under the first man's legs, giving Meidi another few moments to get away. The man tripped over Nihls and slid on his face for several feet, his legs almost flipping over his back. As soon as he regained his own footing, Nihls grabbed the stunned man's sword and then wrapped his cloak around his arms and over his head before pinning it to the ground with the blade. The man wrestled wildly, trying to regain control of himself, but he was too tangled to free himself.
Nihls then took off in pursuit of the other man, who was now just about to take hold of Meidi. The warrior grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to the ground, wrenching loose her hair, which fell like an ebony landslide onto her shoulders. He lifted his sword and brought it down at her face.
Nihls reached him just in time to strike him in the back of the leg, sending his attack amiss.
The man hopped in pain from the blow, but the terror on his face left when he realized that there was no wound beside the welt he was given.
Meidi was too shocked at the sight of the drawn sword in Nihls' hand to notice.
The man turned his attention to Nihls, and attacked skillfully.
For a moment Nihls seemed unsure of what to do. He had done a great deal of practicing, but he had never actually 'put practice into practice,' as the saying went in Thedval. Nonetheless, his diligence in the past served him well, and with a skillful swipe he knocked the sword from the other man's hand. Such a blow from any other blade would have severed the man's hand, but the warrior was left staring at a sprained wrist. Again there was no blood.
Meidi's apprehensions about the sword seemed to lessen as she realized that Nihls was not simply making a fool of himself.
In a flash Nihls struck again, his sword knocking the other man unconscious - again, without blood.
'Run, Meidi,' Nihls said, backing away from the warriors slowly. 'I will follow after you.'
But when he looked to see if she were listening to him, he saw her collapse on the ground in a swoon. More warriors now approached him, including the elf commander. He shut his eyes and prayed the only prayer he knew, 'Lord of all; the Truth is and was and will be, only let me be willing to hear it.'
He lifted Meidi over his shoulder and started off into the grass, making his way blindly toward the place where he had left Urian. He was not as strong as Noro, and he feared that he would be unable to carry her away. But the warriors who pursued him did not reach him before he threw Meidi over the saddle, mounted and dug his heels into Urian's side. He sped away, and no one followed.
Amro stood over the two defeated warriors with a pensive look on his face. The first man was still entangled in his own cloak, and the other was nursing a lump on his head and a sprained wrist. He ordered his men to halt in their pursuit partly because they had more pressing business than chasing down children, and partly because he was puzzled by the way the youth had fought. He could just as easily have killed the first man, he knew. He might have saved himself enough time to make his rescue more certain. Taking the time to bind and pin him to the ground didn't make any sense. Nor did it make sense that he struck the second warrior in the leg rather than running him through with the sword. And the lack of blood could only mean one of two things: either the sword was so dull that it could not cut flesh or the man was so skillful that he could strike with the flat of the blade without drawing blood. He did not know which to believe, as he could think of no motive for the former, and for the latter, he could not believe that so young a man could possess such skill.
Either way it made no sense to him. But he did not have time for anything else. 'Gather what you can of the supplies in the village. If the people wish to flee, let them. They will be a burden to the resources of our enemy if they live, they will make fertile the ground if they perish. Do not waste any further effort on fighting them, unless they first give you trouble.'
Soon every house was emptied and and every store room plundered, and in time every flock and every farm was brought under Amro's authority. The Enthedu fled, some into the north to perish among the goblins and the icy mountain paths, and some to seek their fortune in Alwan, among the elves of Pelas. Many names were lost to them, and many families vanished in that day, never to be heard from or accounted for. When it was learned that a man had slain some of their warriors in the village, Amro ordered the houses to be fired. He also forbid them to permit any of the Enthedu to remain, unless they swore allegiance to Ilvas. Among those forced to swear was Noro himself, who justified the oath by the fact that he could not in any other way manage an escape from his captors. If he did not escape, then how could he protect and serve the Enthedu, w
ho alone among mankind, he believed, could bring peace to Bel Albor.
As soon as his captors glanced the other way, however, he fled, leaving behind him confused guards and a broken oath as well. 'This oath shall I keep,' he muttered as he fled. 'I swear I will repay you for every drop of Enthedu blood that has been spilled this day!' In his flight to the south, however, he came across a large group of Enthedu who were attempting to find their way through the passes. So glad were they to have found a fellow survivor, and one so strong and able-minded as he, that they all but ignored the spear in his hand. Some reasoned among themselves much the same as had he when first he took it into his hands. 'Who would save the world from the Dragon's old lies, if the Enthedu did not save themselves?' some of them asked.
An Answer
That evening Nihls kept watch over a quietly weeping Meidi. She neither spoke to him or looked at him, but lay on the soft grass in a heap. He had tried to comfort her, but she pushed him away with a curse. She was not convinced that there had been no way to save her father. Had Nihls come sooner, or had he not waited until she fled to help, or if he were strong and fearless like Noro, she seemed convinced that the outcome could have been different. Nihls had learned from his many conversations with Giretta that a woman in such a state was not to be contradicted. 'I am sorry,' he said sincerely. 'Do all in Thedval think so little of me?' he thought to himself.
He stared silently into the night, eyeing every shadow suspiciously. It was nearly midnight when he realized that Meidi was asleep. He leaned back on his arms and took his eyes off the shadows to glance at the sky. The night was dark; clouds rolled by overhead, threatening storms, but beyond them he could still see the stars glimmering coldly. Theodysus shone brightest of all. For a moment he thought bitterly how cold and distant the light appeared. But almost at the same moment he heard in his mind the voice of Teacher Abbon, speaking of that very thing - in fact, he could remember repeating his words after him, and, after saying them for many years, finally understanding them.
'The only purpose for which Theodysus might have stayed with us, would have been a purpose. But we do not live for a purpose, but a Truth.'
The Enthedu were children of the Truth, and the truth was what it was, whatever happened. 'We are not meant for happiness,' he said aloud, speaking to himself, to Meidi, to Giretta, far away though she was, and, with some sadness, to Noro as well. He had never really gotten along with Noro, but he saw how fiercely the man desired happiness, and how far off it seemed to him. The solution, to Nihls' way of thinking, as he had learned from Teacher Abbon, was to find something else to occupy your efforts. But Teacher Sazo and most of the other Wisemen, while giving lip-service to sacrifice and sobriety, in their hearts believed that the Eternal King wanted, not merely what was best for men, but what was best TO them as well.
Nihls' thoughts were shattered by a cold and strong voice, speaking from the shadows. 'You are no warrior,' the voice said. It did not sound like a taunt; it was merely an observation.
Nihls sprang to his feet and drew his sword, looking around wildly for the speaker. Stepping from the darkness into the firelight, the elf commander approached Nihls cautiously. 'Who are you?' Nihls asked, hurrying to place himself between the elf and Meidi.
'Who is the girl?' the elf asked.
'What do you want with us?' Nihls asked, his eyes filled with resolve.
'I want an answer,' the elf said. He lifted his hands and drew back his hood, revealing a hard but wise face. 'I am Amro,' he said, 'guardian of Ilvas.'
Nihls mouthed the name silently, his heart filling with terror. For the name of Amro was well-known throughout Bel Albor.
'I can strike you down,' the elf said, again, not as a taunt. 'But you could have struck down my warriors today. Why didn't you? Answer me well. If it is a sound reason then I will, for that same reason, spare your own life.'
Nihls shut his eyes for a moment and thought. 'Truth,' he said at last.
The elf paused for a moment and tilted his head as if there were something lacking in his perspective that might make sense of this strange youth. 'Who knows the truth?' he answered, lowering himself to the ground. He leaned back and looked up at the stars.
'Who are you, lord elf?' Nihls said after a while. But the stranger said nothing, his eyes staring at the light of heaven without wavering.
'You know the truth already,' Nihls said after a pause, 'else you would not have spoken to me. Men always seek the truth outside of themselves, and so they never find it.'
'Some seem convinced enough of their doctrines,' the elf laughed.
Nihls marveled at the elf's manner.
'And yet you would not even be able to mock them unless you already knew the truth yourself,' Nihls replied. 'If the Doctrai say that Pelas is a god, who are you to deny them, unless you know better? You cannot doubt that which you fully know and understand. Even if you believe the truth, doubt shows that you do not hold it tight enough. But how could you even compare the truth to your belief unless you already knew the truth? If the truth is not within you already; then you never can learn the truth. But the very fact that you doubt, and therefore know your knowledge to be inadequate proves beyond doubt that you have the truth already. If the truth came to you in the marketplace, and you did not have it within, you could not recognize it. And you could not deny the truth of anything unless you already possess it. For how would you know it to be contrary to the truth? Look inside, where the God dwells, and you will understand.'
'The God?' the elf sniffed. 'What god? Show me a god beside Pelas and his brother, and I will believe him.' He felt sick even as he repeated Xanthur's usual retort.
'Men always look outside of them for the God,' Nihls said, and so they miss the God within.
'Within what?' the elf said, sitting up straight. 'Do I have a God living within my breast, as the Kharku are said to believe?'
'Not within your breast,' Nihls said, trying to find words to explain the teachings of the Enthedu to a stranger. 'He resides between the times and the places; he extends where we do not and cannot. A man lives and perishes, vanishing away, not only in death, but in each moment. For to be is to change, and to change is to cease to be that which was. The substance of things as they rise and fall is the name given to what remains unaltered. For they themselves cannot endure through time, since they contradict themselves moment after moment. I was an infant, I was a child, I am a man. The infant and child are gone, and they, insofar as they are gone, cannot endure and become what I am. The name given to them and to me, however, alone remains. The name is the substance, and the substance of all things is the name of all things.'
'What is the name of all?'
'The Hidden Name,' Nihls replied. 'Truth. That which is hidden in all things – hidden in you.'
'Why do you say that it is hidden,' the elf asked, 'since you name it Truth?'
'It is hidden because, being a name for everything, it can stand for nothing. To say anything about it besides that mere fact that it is the truth is to lie. This is why the God is so hard to find; he dwells at the place where everything and nothing touch.'
'But you still have not quite explained how this truth - this Hidden Name - holds back your blade from killing.'
Nihls nodded and shut his eyes, thinking back to Teacher Abbon's many lessons. Much of what he had said already was taken from Abbon's mouth, and some of it had occasioned his exile. But he could not lie to this elf; he could not even bring himself to withhold answers. If the other Wisemen had taken the time to search out and understand Abbon's doctrines, Nihls was certain they would never have sent him away.
'To look upon the world from a point of view is to perceive it falsely,' Nihls said. 'If you understand this, then you can look and understand. But if you look out through a single pair of eyes and think that you have seen all there is to be seen, then you are in error. A carriage rolling down a hill is brought down by its weight, though it may have been set into motion by
a man. The man and its own weight, therefore, lead it from a place of rest to a place of motion. If it had not weight, then it would not have moved. If it had not the man to push it, then its weight, alone, would have done nothing. To see only the weight is to see falsely; and to see only the man is to see falsely.
'To see with perspective, then, since you only see but a little, is to see falsely. For the carriage must have a hill and the hill a world, and a world must have its being from its own causes. Even the tiniest flea has its place. Take any one of these things away and you cannot so much as think truly of the flea. Unless you see all, you see falsely. And if you see all, then all you see is God. And there is nothing else.
'As I stand here, then, I have my being because you sit there. And you have your being because of me, and because of Pelas and because of the light of Theodysus, the lord of stars. If you think you are separate from the man you slay, then it is only because of your own ignorance. Whether you have the right or not, you can shed no blood but your own. That is the Truth.'
The elf was silent for a long time as he thought over what Nihls had said. 'To lay aside the sword is to lay aside one's life,' Amro said at last. 'That is a hard doctrine. How can a people survive with it?'
'It is for the God to look after our survival,' Nihls said. 'For if he does not will that we live, no struggle could save us. Instead, we struggle to know the Truth, and to let the Truth be known in us.'
'I don't know if I can accept that,' the elf said, shaking his head. 'What will happen to those I love, if I were to follow your path and put away the sword?'
'What will happen to them will happen to them; of that there can be no doubt,' Nihls answered. 'But in the meanwhile look after your own soul.'
'My soul?' the elf laughed bitterly. 'Of what worth is the soul of an ancient traitor.
'Laugh not about the soul,' Nihls said. 'It is the vessel of the world.'
After giving those words a few moments of thought, the elf rose from his seat near the fire. He drew his blade and held it out toward Nihls. 'This,' he said, 'is the finest sword I have ever made. I am Amro, once a smith, but now a lord over men and elves. I have slain thousands, and my warriors have slain their ten thousands. But let me never kill again, and let he who bears this blade into battle be cursed. So sharp is its edge that it can cut spirit from bone, but I see now that a sword cuts the hand that wields it as deeply as it cuts his foes.'
A chill ran up the length of Nihls' spine when he realized to whom he had spoken. The elf bowed low, touching his forehead to the ground at the feet of Nihls. The youth rose quickly and with a great start. 'Bow not to me; for I am like you - incomplete and frail. Believe not the lies of the Dragon, which appear within the errors of perspective. Bow your heart and mind only to the Truth, which dwells in all things and in which all things dwell.'
The elf turned from him as quickly as he had come and vanished into the darkness, the two of them destined never to meet again. Nihls stood where he was for a minute before he fell into the dust and shook with terror. He wept long into the night, finally falling asleep just before the first hints of sunlight began to appear.