Chapter XI:
The Hospitality of the Blest
The Northward Journey
'Hail master Urian,' Nihls said as he took the reigns of Teacher Abbon's old horse. 'I have need of your strength, brother.' The horse leaned toward him and touched his head with its nose. 'We will ride against all evils today, and we will ride hard. Will you do this for me?' The horse could not answer, of course, but he felt he owed the beast at least the ceremony for what he was about to put him through. The whole land had been rumbling for most of the past two days, and everywhere he looked Nihls could see signs of danger, whether from a falling tree limb or from the cracking earth.
He fastened his belongings to the beast's saddle and pulled himself onto the animal's back. He started the journey at a gentle pace, but as soon as Urian seemed to have warmed up he began pushing harder, hoping to cover as much land as he could before dark. It would take him several days to reach Alwan at least, and that was assuming he ran into no difficulties. Between brigands and warriors, dragons and earthquakes he figured he would run into trouble of one sort or another. As he sped off northward he felt utterly helpless and hopeless, fully believing that he rode off to his death. But for all that he at least felt certain that he was doing the right thing. Whether he succeeded or not was up to the King. It was man's part to do man's part, and leave the results to the God. He was riding to tell Noro and the Blest about the harbor, and to bring Ilnoron to the boats of Falruvis - and if he had more luck than dark Zefru himself he might succeed.
He did not have to travel very far to find signs of flight and panic. By the afternoon he saw farms and homes being abandoned as men desperately packed their belongings into carts and bound supplies to their horses. He told some of these – those who would listen to him – of the harbor.
By evening he had seen dead men lying upon the ground. Some might have simply perished from want and hunger, but others had clearly been killed, their murderers making no efforts to conceal their deeds. It was a time of lawlessness. It was said that the line of Parganas had ended, and that dragons tore apart Ilvas. Men were no longer concerned with the consequences of their deeds. The only consequence now seemed to be death of one sort or another. Men figured they might as well do as they pleased for once, since either way meant the grave. More than once Nihls turned aside to offer aid, and more than once he very nearly lost his own life as suspicious or greedy men turned their blades against him.
Two days he spent traveling northwest and two nights he spent under the stars in a tiny cloth shelter. Snow and rain took turns assaulting him, mixed in with gales as hot as a summer storm and gusts of wind as dry as the air of a desert. Nothing made sense in Bel Albor any longer. He very nearly drown when he made his way across what had seemed like a rather harmless stream. As soon as he had set foot in the water it seemed that a flood had been unleashed, nearly swallowing him and Urian both. He spent much of the next day in front of a fire, drying his clothing and warming himself and his horse. His haste had cost him time - as Abbon had often warned him. 'So many things I have learned from you,' he mused, 'but most I did not believe until I learned them anew for myself.'
The next day he found a road and followed it north toward Alwan. Here bodies lay strewn about as though a battle had taken place. Smoke rose from the Palace - and not the smoke of cooking fires or chimneys. The city was burning; devilish men pillaged everything the elves had built, carting their wealth away in great caravans. Nihls noticed now that many among the dead were elves. He could scarcely believe his own eyes.
Pelas had fallen. 'Death rules us all,' he thought. 'Even the elves are not immortal.' Were it not for the dragons and floods that now ravaged Bel Albor the people would be feasting and celebrating the end of the elves. The horrors and storms that swept through the land drove all hope and mirth from the land, however. Even had things been well, however, Nihls did not believe that he could bring himself to celebrate such tragedies.
It was said among all peoples that to know a man you must 'stand in their place,' and 'see with their eyes,' but Nihls had always thought that to stand in another's place and to see with their eyes was what it meant to be them, and if he stood where Pelas stood, he would do as Pelas did. He was no better; he was just fortunate to have been raised the son of his father and the pupil of Abbon, whereas Pelas was the pupil of Lady Aedanla's pride.
He heeled his horse on, hoping against hope that he would find Noro without delay. He had considered trying to find Ilnoron and riding away with him. But whenever that thought pulled at him he could hear Abbon's warning that all men must, in their own way, face the Dragon. He finally understood what that meant - what that meant for him.
He had to face Noro the Hero, and his blindness.
His thoughts were brought away from these things by a desperate weeping. He looked to the west and saw a muscular man pulling a young man by the hair while his mother screamed and pleaded. He heeled Urian on, rushing to the scene without thought or hesitation.
'Stop it!' Nihls said as he brought his horse to a stop. He leaped from the saddle and approached the man.
He was a dark haired man with thick furs wrapped around him. He had a sword on his hip and he held the youth by the neck. Behind him Nihls could see a dead horse lying in front of a small carriage. There were two other men rummaging through the boxes and sacks in the carriage.
The man pushed the youth to the ground and drew his sword. There would be no discussion, Nihls realized bitterly.
Nihls stepped back and said, 'You needn't do this thing! They cannot stop you from robbing them. Do not put their blood on your hands as well!'
'They are dead either way,' the man said as he swung his blade clumsily at Nihls. The Enthedu dodged back and avoided the attack. 'Their blood's gonna spill out one way or another. My hand is as good as any other!'
'I do not plead for their lives for their sake,' Nihls answered. 'But for yours. Do you not yet understand, in this world you can only harm yourself. You may be right; you cannot save their lives whatever you do. But you don't have to make yourself a devil in the meanwhile.'
Soon the man's companions left their pillaging to watch the confrontation. One drew a shortsword from his belt and the other took up an axe that had been laying on the ground. Seeing that he would soon be outnumbered Nihls hissed and drew his own sword. The man sneered and made to take off Nihls' head. Nihls ducked beneath his swing and swung his own sword straight into the man's face. Teeth scattered like rain and the man bellowed. His companions were upon Nihls before he could do anything more. The axeman swung fiercely at Nihls' feet, but the Enthedu leaped over the axe and struck the man in the ankle, tripping him. The last man knew a thing or two about swords, however, and Nihls was hard pressed to keep his head. He backed away slowly, unsure what he was going to do next. His boots slipped and slid in the cold, rain soaked dirt. Suddenly the sound of metal clanging rang out, and Nihls saw the youth he had rescued standing over the swordsman with an iron pan in his hand. The swordsman was laying on the ground with blood dripping from his head. He stirred weakly; he was still awake but the fight had been stricken from him.
The young man took up the sword without hesitation and lifted it to finish the brigand.
'No!' Nihls shouted.
Amazement alone stayed the young man's hand.
'If they are wrong to kill for their own whims, then so are you,' Nihls said. For a moment the young man looked as though he was ready to attack Nihls also. But the woman came and took his arm, 'Come, Ado,' she said, trying to bring his attention away from Nihls and his strange words.
Nihls went back to the other two men. 'Be gone from here,' he said, 'and pray that the God has mercy upon you.'
'Mercy,' the man with the injured ankle spat. 'What mercy is left? We are all dead men. What difference does it make?'
'It makes every difference,' Nihls answered, 'it may not change the course of events that have been set in motion. But while you
yet draw breath there is time to turn aside from these wicked deeds. Let the flood take you, but you will have retained your soul. Let the dragon consume your body within its fires, but it cannot destroy the good in you.'
'What manner of man are you?' the woman asked, interrupting their speech.
'I am just a man,' Nihls said, shaking his head.
'You speak of a god,' she said, 'Pelas is the only god in Alwan, and he is gone.' Nihls could not tell whether this pleased her or filled her with fear.
'God is the truth,' Nihls said. 'And no man can rightly deny that, or take its place.'
'The truth is,' the young man Ado said, still clutching the sword in his fist, 'we are all going to die; sooner if we leave this scum untroubled. And you are going to teach us about gods?'
'The truth is,' Nihls corrected, 'that every deed you do drags the whole world along with it, whether you are the greatest man or the weakest. There is nothing happening in Bel Albor in which you have not had a hand. That is what it means to be, to do and to will. It doesn't matter if you are good or evil, whether you are the robber or the victim. You are a part of this - of all of this!' Nihls said, waving his sword to gesture at the whole smoldering landscape of Alwan. 'Do you not understand? We are all of the same substance, whether we are the brigand or the victim, we can only rob ourselves and be robbed by ourselves. We can only harm ourselves, and when we judge we can only judge ourselves. Lay aside your weapons, for they are useless, whether they kill an army of goblins or a blade of grass they can do nothing.' This he spoke to the injured men. 'Likewise do not seek revenge,' he turned his attention to Ado now. 'Justice is done in every moment, when the aggressor inflicts a wound upon his own substance in the form of his victim. Revenge, therefore, is not justice; it is but a new crime under an old pretense. True justice rules this world, though we do not always see it. You will know it only when you endure every injury as a due punishment and suffer every wrong as though it were your own hand that acted against you.'
He could not remember Teacher Abbon quite saying those things, but it felt to him as though he were listening to his old instructor speaking, and not to his own cracking voice. A warmth entered him at that moment, and he sheathed his dull blade. 'I must go into the city; whoever wishes to accompany me is welcome. Bel Albor is in its death throes - but there is one more that I must rescue before the end, if the Eternal King allows it.' His listeners stared at him in astonishment, their eyes passing from one to the other. Ado looked as though he were about to spit. The woman, however, silenced him with a look and said, 'We will go with you. Your words drive away fear. I will not leave your side until I understand them.'
Nihls nodded and gestured toward the brigands' horses. 'Take one of the horses for yourselves, in lieu of the one slain by these men. They can share a saddle as they go their way. I hope that ere the end you find peace.' Nihls said this to them as he began preparing his own steed for the northward journey. The brigands were too stunned to do or say anything.
Ado and the young woman, who introduced herself as Ealan, hurriedly gathered what belongings they thought they could bear.
Nihls mounted and was amazed to see the man with broken teeth staring fearfully up at him. The other two thieves looked at the pair of them in confusion before leaping upon the remaining horses and galloping away.
Nihls reached his hand down toward the man. 'Lay aside your weapon,' Nihls said. 'If you are going to follow me it will only hinder you.'
'Where are you going?' the man asked through his ruined mouth. He did not seem bothered by the fact that Nihls still retained his own blade.
'Wherever the King sends me,' Nihls answered as he helped the man into his saddle. 'To death, to hell, to flood or to a dragon's belly. I care not, nor do I know which will be my fate. I do not seek life, but only truth.'
Ado and Ealan looked at Nihls with concern, but Nihls just started riding off into the northeast without saying another word. After a long hesitation Ado began riding after them.
The Throne
If the youth Ado and his mother had expected things to become simple after following this strange young man, they would very soon be cured of their misapprehensions. The moment Nihls entered the ruined city of Albori - an easy feat since nearly every wall had fallen in upon itself - he found himself surrounded by warriors and placed under guard.
Athar, with his armor still stained with blood, rode to confront him as soon as word reached him that Nihls had arrived at Alwan. He took the Enthedu's sword from him, but passed it back with a laugh when he saw that it was little more than an iron stick. 'We are not permitted to let strangers enter the city of the King armed, but I can hardly call this a weapon,' he snickered.
As soon as Nihls was taken where none might see him he was dragged from his horse, and, along with the brigand Thurinn who rode with him, cast into a damp prison cell with crumbling walls. A lot of light found its way into the cell, since the building in which it was housed had very nearly fallen over entirely during Pelas' final counterstroke. Nihls could not but imagine that Ado and his mother had found a similar welcome awaiting them.
'What is the meaning of this?' Nihls protested, 'I am an Enthedu, like unto Noro your employer!' that last word was meant to be an insult of sorts, but Athar was unmoved.
It could not have entered his mind how little the ancient Enthedu would have liked his chosen profession. But in his mind the Enthedu were weaklings, and wicked for their unwillingness to fight and kill to make a better world. He had never gone by that name - all he knew were the ways of the Blest. He was a follower of Noro the Hero, soon to be King over Bel Albor, as Nihls could see from the way he was spoken of.
'You, who stole the lord's son, dare to come here?' Athar's voice scoffed. 'It is true that you are a fool, even as it is said throughout Anatheda and as it will soon be said in all Alwan. Do you think we are so foolish and so blind that we cannot reckon up the sums? The child in Meidi's womb belongs to the lord, and you dare come here? Have you come to take lord Noro's other child as well?'
'I have said no such thing!' Nihls said, feeling sick at the deception, though it was not a lie. He would not live long if he revealed that indeed it was for Ilnoron that he had come. But he had not come for Ilnoron alone. Many men could be saved by the ships in Falruvis' harbor, and Nihls hoped to save all that he could - even if he himself must remain behind. If he thought Athar would believe him he would tell him of the harbor right then and there, even if it meant that he himself remained to perish in the cell.
But for all that he was yet lying - or deceiving as the case may be - to save his life. He knelt on the cold stone floor and waited with his eyes closed.
'Then for what have you come to trouble the Blest?' Athar asked hatefully. He wished with all his heart that Noro had granted his request that he might be permitted to slay Nihls upon sight.
'I know nothing of the Blest,' Nihls said, wincing as though that word hurt his tongue, 'Nor know I anything of heirs and lords. And I have come because of a promise to Ilnoron's mother, but not to steal or to kidnap anyone. I have come to warn the Blest that the time has come to seek shelter elsewhere. Bel Albor is dying.'
'Do you think the Eternal King is like a drunkard?' Athar laughed. 'Do you think that he is like a man who strikes out in blindness, wounding wife and enemy with the same blow? Anatheda is a shelter. And Alwan is under the King's wings. Let the dragons rage and the floods rise in the east. In the wake thereof the Kingdom of the Eternal One will rise unopposed. It has been spoken.'
These were new interpretations, Nihls thought to himself. The Blest had grown confident. 'We are not promised a long life,' Nihls argued. 'Nor are we promised a good one or a comfortable one. We are only promised that, in opposition to the blindness in which we lay ere the naming of the Hidden Name, we would walk in light. We have life now, we do not seek it in this or in any realm or kingdom. That kingdom is here already within him who names the Hidden Name of truth.'
/> 'Like your master, then,' Athar said cruelly, 'you teach falsehoods and mystical doctrines, denying what the Scriptures say - that the people of Theodysus would rule over all things.'
'I do not deny anything of what Theodysus taught,' Nihls replied. 'He who would rule all things must first make himself the ruler of nothing. Then only will he rule over all, but only by getting out of the way of he who alone can rule anything. If you strive by your own strength to make yourself a lord you will be lord of nothing, least of all your own person.'
'Then you not only mock the right teachings; you make a mockery of he whom you would call a friend. By this I know that you are not one of the Blest,' Athar said.
'I am not,' Nihls affirmed, quite truthfully.
Thurinn watched him with amazement. He was no stranger to a prison cell, but he was a stranger to the calm way Nihls responded to his ill-treatment. 'Your ways are hard,' he said, when at last they were left alone. A distant weeping seemed to indicate that Ealan and her son had found their way into the very same prison.
'To risk all,' Nihls said quietly. 'To risk not only your own life, but the life of your loved ones, and perhaps even the life of a world - that is no easy matter. But whether we strive or submit, we cannot determine the ends. Let them, therefore, take care of themselves. Do what is right. That is what we were taught in the days when the Enthedu yet understood wisdom.'
Night came and went without so much as a sound from without, save for the distant rumblings of the earth and the occasional workman passing nearby. The city was utterly destroyed, but Noro wanted to built his own capital atop the ruins. Work had already been begun on the walls, delayed only until the last of the elves they had captured in the city were hung. All over the city the rotting corpses of the immortals swayed in the breeze, dead and vexed by carrion. But around their bodies the mortals worked and labored to restore the city's defenses. Noro wanted the walls built high - enough so that they might even be safe from the rampages of the dragons. This was an impossible task, of course, but men have undertaken many such purposes throughout their long history.
After two days in the cell with nothing to eat but what little they carried in their sacks with them, Athar returned. He brought four armed men along with him and opened the cell as though he were preparing to release a madman.
'You must do as you will,' Nihls said when he saw the guards. 'But you know as well as I do that this is unnecessary.'
Athar grinned and then snapped his fingers, sending the guards into the cell where they roughly cast Thurinn to the ground and bound Nihls with chains, jerking him harshly from the cell. Thurinn fell into a rage and rushed toward Athar, who just barely made it to the outside of the cell door before the brigand reached him. Thurinn put such weight into his charge that the door swung shut just as easily with Athar's weight added to it as it would have swung alone. When the door slammed shut Athar had to hold onto the iron bars to keep from stumbling. He spat and kicked at the bars angrily. Thurinn kicked back and the whole frame of the cell rattled, sending rocks and pebbles tumbling to the ground. Athar tried to hide the shock on his face and moved along, shouting curses at his guards as they made their way out of the prison into the full light of the sun.
It was a beautiful day, with few clouds and a warm breeze. Were it not for the incessant rumbling of the earth it would have been peaceful too. But there was no peace in Bel Albor, save for that which resided in those who knew the Hidden Name. Nihls was now convinced that Noro was not among that number.
Within him he struggled between anger and hatred toward the fool Noro, and the teachings of Abbon, which would have him forgive all wrongs. Such doctrines were always easier to speak about than to practice, however. He was very afraid he would lose sight of them for the sake of his indignation. As they walked toward the ruined palace the thought took hold of him that he was being brought before the Dragon himself.
It was ridiculous in a sense - he was being brought before a childhood companion and sometimes friend. But he knew it as clearly as he knew his own name. He was being brought to the Dragon.
They navigated broken down corridors, sometimes passing through entire sections of the palace that had nothing of a roof remaining to hide their inner structure from those outside. The inner sections of the palace remained intact, though most of the ceiling had collapsed within the throne room itself.
Noro sat in his full strength upon the ancient throne of Lord Parganas, conqueror of the ancient Immortals of Vitiai. But his strength seemed out of place in that room, where everything was either a ruin or age-worn. It was like a newly born babe wrapped in burial clothes, Nihls thought with a chill.
'Bring him before me,' Noro thundered when he saw, through the great cracks in the wall, that Nihls had arrived. When he said, 'before me' his tone seemed to indicate that his presence was a place in itself, regardless of his surroundings.
'I have given you teachings,' Noro began, quoting from their scriptures, 'and you have not learned. I have given you wages, and you have not earned. I have given you tinder and wood, but you have not burned; all that I have given you your sloth has now spurned.'
Nihls remained silent, unsure of Noro's meaning. In truth he was surprised to hear the man quoting such passages. But even Athar seemed to have some regard for the doctrines of the Blest, whether they differed from what was taught in Thedval or not.
'I am seated upon the throne of Pelas Parganascon,' Noro continued in a flat tone as if he were instructing Nihls in history. 'All that has been foretold has been fulfilled this day. Bel Albor belongs to us now.'
'To us?' Nihls said.
'And why not?' Noro said. 'We are not enemies, are we Nihls?'
'I have but one enemy,' Nihls replied firmly. 'And he is no enemy.'
'You speak in riddles,' Noro grinned. 'I cannot think where you might have learned such a manner of speaking.'
'Nothing belongs to us,' Nihls replied ignoring the taunt.
'But yet Candor owned a horse and a writing table,' Noro replied wearily, referencing details from their ancient histories as if to show that Nihls was speaking improperly.
'Forgive my simple mistake,' Nihls said mockingly. They both knew which of their interpretations was truer. He immediately regretted the mockery, however. Noro's eyes seemed to flash with fire when he heard the taunt. It would do him no good to make a fool of Noro. That is not why he came all this way.
'You know all the crimes of Pelas!' Noro said. 'You know what his father did to the beautiful immortals of Vitiai! You know how they lied to us - to us mortals every day for - who can say how long? Ten-thousand years? Who can know when the sins run so deep?'
'I know all of those things,' Nihls said. 'And I cannot say how long and how deep his evil runs.'
'But yet you would have spared him?' Noro asked. He felt pretty certain that he could predict what Nihls had come to say, and he felt no reason to wait for Nihls to say it before he refuted him. 'You would have left him alone to rule and reign over that which he had no right to command?'
'This is not the way, Noro,' Nihls said.
'What is the way, then?' Noro snapped. 'Shall we slink back and hide in a valley for another five hundred years? Shall we wait until the elves kill every last man and woman, and then themselves? Is that how the Blest will come to rule Bel Albor? Is that how the Kingdom will be established?'
Nihls did not reply. He shifted and his chains rattled upon the stone floor.
Noro continued, 'This was the first moment mankind at last had the strength and circumstances to overthrow their rulers. Was I to pass it by? What then? Thousands would have died, and their blood would be upon my head for doing nothing when I could have stopped it. Are you a murderer, Nihls? That you would let all those women and children bleed in the street? To what end?'
'To what end?' Nihls repeated quietly. 'You do not know the ends, Nihls. No man can see all things. Even the Star-Seer did not know everything. How do you know what ends w
ill come from what you have done? Save Bel Albor, Noro, and you might damn Tel Arie and Bel Albor both.
'In Lushlin it is said,' Nihls went on, 'that there was once a tribe of mortal men who lived deep within the bogs. These men ate the biting flies that dwelt therein, and never grew ill or sickly therefrom. But Lohi and his sons killed them in retaliation for the deaths of three high elves. Now no man in that land is safe. For the flies left that place in search of food, and they feast upon the mortals and immortals of Lushlin, and their bite gives men feverish dreams and dreadful diseases. How many men have died since because those two hundred souls that were slain? How many might have been saved had they lived, to kill the bugs and to be bitten thereby without falling ill? You have saved millions, no doubt, Noro, but it is not within your power to determine what will come of it - perhaps a million millions will die because of what the Blest have done here. Perhaps nothing will come of it. Perhaps the world will be transformed into a garden. I do not know. And neither do you - you therefore act in ignorance. And there is nothing praiseworthy in that!'
Noro rose from his seat with a growl and made as if to charge Nihls then and there. But before he had taken two steps he remembered that he had to start acting like a king if he ever meant to rule this great land. Unable to answer Nihls' charge, he replied with a query.
'What would you have done, then, Nihls,' he asked.
'I do not know,' Nihls answered truthfully. 'But I have sworn off killing, and even if it meant my own death, so be it. I hope I would have the strength to accept it.'
'But what of your kin? What of your WIFE?' Noro asked. 'Will you let her die?' His anger rose almost as though he spoke of his own wife. In his mind this is very nearly how he saw things.
'I cannot stop her or any other from dying, either by the good or by the evil that I do. Shall I make myself a devil to buy her a year or two, or even a hundred? If I by war purchase for myself a few years of peace and security, what will I have when I lose everything in death - when all debts must be repaid.'
He paused for a moment and then spoke again before Noro could reply, 'To save Bel Albor, Noro, you have ravaged a great deal of it, and to save lives you have taken lives. Is it justice to take a life in order to save another? Or is it folly altogether? Theodysus taught us of justice when he said that justice falls at every moment. For what a man does to another he does to himself in the other. So justice is done, and it is never delayed. And justice is realized only when we suffer wrongfully, willingly.'
'It is clear to me, then,' Noro said coldly, walking over to look Noro in the eyes. 'You are as much a fool as your teacher!' He spat on the ground. 'I would have welcomed you to our number as a brother, Nihls,' he said.
'Have I left the Enthedu, Noro? That I must be accepted back into it? Or have you departed, that I must leave the Enthedu to come to you?'
'Get out of my sight!' Noro said, 'I do not have time for Abbon's riddles. Get him out of my sight!' he added the last as a command to his servants as soon as he remembered his authority.
The sun was almost at its height by the time Nihls was cast back into the cell with Thurinn. The brigand said nothing, though, and just sat quietly as if to pretend that he was not present. Tears streamed from the Enthedu's face, and he wept silently until night fell.
Amarin
When the Enthedu was first sundered in the days after Amro and Ghastin destroyed Thedval, Amarin was uncertain whether he ought to follow Nihls or Noro. He was far from comfortable with Noro's spear - more uncomfortable than he was with Nihls' sword at least. Whatever Nihls thought he was doing with that blade, it was clear at least that he held firm to the commitment to kill no man with it. Noro, however, had slain men. However necessary it might have been or seemed, it was no small matter. Were it not for the perils that yet beset them, and the great fears that tormented them, the people would never have taken a warrior for their leader. But fear turned their affections away from the sufferings of their ancestors and toward the instruments of warfare.
Had Amarin foreseen this he might very well have accompanied Nihls from the outset. What decided the matter for him was Ebbe, who had little love for Nihls, still thinking ill of him from all the insults he had received from the other youths of Thedval. She was frightened; and however little she liked the spear, she felt safer near one who was not afraid to kill to save. But as time wore on, and especially when the Blest began not only to defend their own towns, but also to make offensive assaults against Alwan, she began to find the security that was purchased by such violence distasteful.
Amarin did everything within his power to remain in the good graces of Noro - chiefly to protect Ebbe, but partly to look after Giretta's son Ilnoron and the rest of the Enthedu. In his mind the line between the Enthedu and the Blest was as sharp as a dagger, though to Noro's mind the Blest was but a new name for that which they had always been.
Amarin had managed to keep himself out of the worst of the battles of the Blest by feigning incompetence with weapons. He was not great with any weapon, though he was a decent bowman. He was not half as bad as he pretended to be when Noro and his captains were observing. He had partaken in the defense of Anatheda when it seemed as though Pelas and his elves would trample them all under foot. But even then he killed no one, though he had shot a man in the leg with an arrow.
As soon as the city of Albori fell into Noro's hands he took to the road and hurried eastward. News of the ruin of the city and the way Noro had taken up the throne of the immortals met him as he traveled, as messengers were sent back and forth between the dominion of the Blest and the newly conquered lands of Bel Albor.
When he drew near the city, however, he learned of Nihls' presence and heard about the audience he had with Noro. His heart sank into his stomach and he could not think of what to do. He sought out Noro, but was unable to learn anything more from him than what rumor could tell him. Noro, however, seemed delighted by the sight of his old friend. The gleam in his eyes, however, was greed and not fondness. 'He has ever trusted you,' Noro told him, as if he thought all that trust was valuable only insofar as it would now make Nihls vulnerable to his deceptions. 'Learn from him where Meidi is hidden. For he will not betray where he has kept her.'
It was little short of madness, Amarin thought, that would permit Noro to think their gentle friend had truly kidnapped his beloved. But such was Noro's opinion of himself in those days; he could not imagine that Meidi would have chosen someone else - certainly not Nihls over himself.
'I will do what I can,' Amarin said. And he needed no tricks to deceive Noro. No man could do aught but what he was able to do - there was no doubt about that. But that did not in any sense mean that he would do what Noro wished.
By the time he came to the prison night had fallen and a chill wind blew through the cracked stones, making all the prisoners shiver. He was admitted begrudgingly by Athar's servants, who knew of him by name, though they had not met one another. As he walked through the prison he could see the sullen faces of those who had fallen under Noro's distrust. A few of them were no doubt inhabitants of Albori who had not taken too kindly to the utter destruction of their city. For all the thousands who were injured by Pelas and his servants, there were always a few who were fortunate enough to have no grievances with the immortal king. Some of these eyed him warily from their cells as he passed. For the most part, however, he was ignored.
'Nihls?' he whispered when at last he came to his old friend's cell.
Nihls was tucked in a corner with his head resting upon his knees. 'Nihls,' he said again, more firmly this time.
'Amarin?' Nihls said as he lifted his eyes in amazement. There was a hopeful look in his eyes, but Amarin could also see a great wariness. He looked like a tame dog that had been so injured that he knew not whether to trust his own master any longer.
'What are you doing here, Nihls?' Amarin asked.
Nihls stared at him for a long while before finally deciding that he could trus
t him - rather, before deciding that his only hope of accomplishing more than rotting in that cell was to trust him.
'I've come to tell the Enthedu that there is a path out of Bel Albor, and into the work,' he emphasized that last word, 'for which we have been called.'
Amarin looked around him carefully, to make certain none of the guards were in earshot. 'The Enthedu are no more, Nihls. We are the Blest now.'
'You may be of the Blest,' Nihls replied. 'But a wicked Blest might be a true bearer of the words of Theodysus, just as there are many among the Blest who are mighty among their people for being devils.'
Now it was Amarin who was silent, and he also was trying to determine whether or not he could trust himself. 'I am very far from the Enthedu, Nihls.'
'You truly are,' Nihls said sadly, 'if you can say such a thing. Do you not remember that from whatever corner of the world you stand it is but a step into the Kingdom of the Eternal God? Have you forgotten the Hidden Name? Can you take a step without that which is true - outside that which is? You are never parted from it, Amarin. It takes but a step, wheresoever you are to return. Nay, you are already there, you must only know it.'
His voice was pleading, and Amarin suddenly realized that his eyes were tearing.
He looked over his shoulder nervously and then spoke quickly, saying, 'Nihls, listen to me. Wherever you are going, you must bring Ebbe with you. The ways of the Blest will be our death.'
'Where is she, Amarin?' Nihls asked, standing up as though he might walk away from the cell at that very instant.
'She is in Anatheda still, along with Garam and a few others who yet remember the ways of the Enthedu, though none speak of it. Ilnoron is there also,' Amarin added that last part uncertainly. His eyes seemed to bulge with surprise at his own words and he waited nervously for Nihls to respond.
'Shall I make myself what the rumors make me, then, Amarin?' he asked after a pause. 'Do not tempt me brother! Noro is ruled by the Dragon, and he will rule by the Dragon. Do not think that I would not give my own life for Ilnoron. But I do not have a right to take him away from his father.'
'Nonetheless,' Amarin said. 'You will not accomplish anything here. Go to Anatheda and take who will come along with you. I will see you but once more and then I will see that you are released. You will not have long before Noro seeks you. So fly at once westward and then on to wherever you must go.'
'I will go into the south,' Nihls said quietly. 'Beyond the Clefts of Viantin there is a harbor that once was managed secretly by Lord Falruvis. There are ships there. A great number of large vessels that might bear thousands from this land. There are other prisoners here; they must find the harbor as well.'
'Why do you tell me this?' Amarin asked with frustration.
'I am telling you so that you can follow,' Nihls answered, his eyes full of sincerity.
'You are too hopeful, Nihls,' Amarin said, shaking his head glumly.
'Abbon said that one must do what they can, but accept the worst when it comes. Come to the harbor, Amarin,' Nihls pleaded.
'I can't Nihls,' he answered, rising from his knees.
'But why not?' Nihls asked.
'Because I have work to do here,' Amarin replied, turning to leave.
'What do you mean?' Nihls asked. 'What are you going to do?'
Amarin did not answer.
'He will lead us to her straightaway, if we follow him where he goes,' Amarin said as he knelt before the throne of Pelas - in front of Noro. 'If you command him, he will endure any terror before telling you where the Enthedu dwell. You know that as well as I do. He will not betray-' Amarin quickly corrected himself, 'He will not tell you where she is. But if you release him, he will go to her, and we can, by following him, find her again, and your son.'
To Noro's mind it would be no betrayal for Nihls to tell him where his own beloved and his own heir were to be found. To Noro it was a betrayal already that Nihls had not told him at once where he might find them.
'But you have said that he means to leave Bel Albor altogether,' Noro considered. 'Surely it would be folly for me to let him take her and the child away, beyond my grasp altogether. I am not immortal, that I might wait a thousand years before making my pursuit.'
'But I will send him to Anatheda beforehand,' Amarin said. 'And that will give us plenty of opportunity to find the Enthedu. I will send him to rescue Garam from his ale!'
Noro laughed briefly, but quickly turned his thoughts back to the subject at hand.
'And he did not tell you of their dwelling place already?' Noro asked somewhat doubtfully. 'He did not say where the Enthedu are encamped? If indeed enough of them remain to have an encampment.' He scoffed at that last comment.
'I indicated before that he did not,' Amarin said, repeating his answer not for the first time. He did indicate as much, though he had not actually said it. 'But if I release him in good faith, I do not think that he will conceal the truth from me.'
'You do not think?' Noro scoffed. 'What surety is that?'
'If I spoke of a man,' Amarin said, 'it would be none at all. But I am speaking of Nihls; and you know that, though he is a man by sight, he operates with as unwavering a will as nature herself. He will tell me.'
Noro paused as if to consider, and for a moment he looked uneasy, as if he were wondering whether anyone might speak of him as such a man. But in the end he laughed, though uneasily, 'You are right. He would tell you.' He looked at Amarin warily for a moment and then waved a hand is if to wave the entire matter away.
'If this course of action has your approval, then,' Amarin said humbly, 'I will release him; in two days' time he will be on the road, and I might follow him with horsemen to Anatheda or head him off at his destination with a band of warriors.' He might do many things.
Noro suddenly looked surprised. 'You would go? Why should you trouble yourself in this?'
'Why should my lord trouble either himself or his warriors over this matter? I am able to do it. Nihls will not resist me - there is no need for any of your strong men to leave Albori. In two weeks I can return with your heir and your lover, and Nihls again in chains.'
'And why should you not simply join with him and flee also? It is no secret to me at least, Amarin, that you are the sort that prefers to stand upon the border, losing and gaining nothing for all the struggles of greater men.'
Trying his best to look hurt rather than angry, Amarin answered, 'I am telling you that I speak the truth when I say that I will not flee Bel Albor, or fail to do anything that I have suggested to you.'
Suddenly Noro's eyes flashed with rage and he stared at Amarin as if he were gazing at a serpent. His hand strayed toward his spear, which he always kept beside the throne. But long before his fingers reached the weapon he stopped and let his feelings flee from his face.
'I will go,' Noro said.
'But my lord,' Amarin protested. 'You have taken the immortal throne! Who will keep peace and order if you, who broke the elves and their power, but also their order, walks away.'
'Who will keep peace and order WHEN I walk away in death, Amarin?' Noro asked seriously. 'Everything I build will crumble if we do not prepare a kingdom for this land - The Kingdom. Shall I pass the throne to Athar, the mercenary? Or to one of the Teachers, who bend and sway like grass, and fight just as fiercely? The Kingdom requires strength and honor that only Candor's heir can provide. If we are ever to bring the ways of the Blest beyond this realm we must prepare for the conflicts that will, as a matter of course, arise.'
'Very well, my lord,' Amarin said, amused at how well he had predicted his old friend's reaction. 'In two days' time I will release him from his prison cell at midnight, and he will go to Anatheda, and then he will go to her.'
Noro nodded thoughtfully, and this time he could not stop his hand from gripping the shaft of his spear.