Deathstalker Legacy

  "This is getting needlessly messianic," said Lewis, but his voice was lost in an outburst of mass shouting and cheering and stamping of feet from the House. The honorable Members loved the idea; not least because it didn't actually require them to do anything. Let the blessed Owen save Humanity, as he had two centuries before. The cheering and applauding went on for some time, an almost religious hysteria taking over the House, as though they'd just been tossed a lifeline by God herself. Du Bois smiled benevolently about him. Douglas's face remained impassive, but Lewis was scowling openly, his ugly face dark and disturbed. Jesamine looked at him worriedly. He still had his gun in his hand. Douglas waited patiently for the din to die down, and when it didn't, he gestured to Lewis, who immediately raised his disrupter. Du Bois fell back a step, and the acclamation of the House broke off raggedly, as the honorable Members got ready to duck again.

  "Unfortunately," Douglas said calmly, "all the records concerning Owen Deathstalker's final fate, whatever it might have been, are lost to us. Destroyed two hundred years ago by Robert and Constance and the Parliament of that time, for reasons that no doubt seemed good to them. As to the others who passed through the Madness Maze and became superhuman; we know Jack Random and Ruby Journey are dead, killed in the last great confrontation with Shub before their awakening. Diana Vertue brought the bodies home in what was left of the old Deathstalker Standing, and now Jack and Ruby lie in state in the Victory Gardens behind this House. Buried in heroes' graves, with statues raised to their honored memory. You're welcome to pray for their return, but I wouldn't expect an early reply. Tobias Moon remains on Lachrymae Christi, a hermit, whom no one has seen in over a century. We will of course try to reach him, but according to the legends his abilities were nothing compared to Owen's. And then there's Captain Silence. Who also disappeared a century ago, his fate as much a mystery as the blessed Owen's.

  "Honorable Members; we should remember that Owen Deathstalker left us, at the hour of his greatest triumph, and no one knows why, or where he went. The heroes of old… are gone, all of them. I say to this House; we cannot just sit back and wait for the blessed Owen to show up again, to save the day one more time! Legends are legends, we must deal with facts. Worlds are in danger. We must make preparations to defend ourselves!"

  "Of course," said du Bois, his voice the very epitome of calm and reason. "But Owen knew of the Terror. He knew it was coming, and he seemed to know how it might be defeated. So; while we raise the armies of Humanity to stand ready to hold back the Terror, I say we send out our greatest heroes to search for Owen Deathstalker! Send out the Paragons on their greatest and noblest Quest; to find the beloved Owen and bring him home!"

  This time the cheering and shouting and massed applause all but shook the great chamber on its foundations. The House really liked the sound of this idea. Douglas considered the matter, and found he did too, for all sorts of practical reasons. Send the Paragons out on a Quest. Even beyond the Parade, it would help repair their image, while getting them away from the general population long enough for everyone to forget the excesses of the Neuman riot. And who knew… they might just find Owen. Douglas ran this by Lewis, who nodded slowly in agreement.

  "Do you want me to join the Quest?" he said carefully. "I am his descendant, even if not directly. I am a Deathstalker."

  "You're not a Paragon anymore," said Douglas. "You're my Champion. But yes, Lewis, I think you should go. As a Deathstalker."

  And because it's a really good way to get rid of me, thought Lewis, not really all that bitterly. Send me off on a Quest, away from Jesamine. He knows I'll go, if he asks. Because I'm a Deathstalker, and I know my duty. Because he's a King, and my friend. Oh Jesamine; I finally found you, and now I have to go away and leave you to marry another man. Please understand…

  He looked across at Jesamine, but she wasn't looking at him.

  The uproar in the House finally died down, not least because the honorable Members were exhausting themselves, and King Douglas solemnly gave his approval to the idea of a great Quest for the Paragons. He officially put the proposal to the House, and there was an overwhelming vote of Aye (A few timid souls wanted the Paragons to stay, so they could lead Humanity's forces against the Terror, but they were quickly shouted down). It was decided that the Quest would begin in two weeks' time, after the Royal Wedding, and after some of the details and practicalities could be sorted out. Because when you got right down to it, no one had a clue just where to send the Paragons to look for the missing Owen. It was a big Empire, with hundreds of planets well divorced from the mainstream. There were lots of places a man could go if he wanted to stay hidden, as many a Paragon in pursuit of a villain had already discovered, to their cost. Michel du Bois fixed Lewis with a cold, accusatory stare.

  "You are a descendant of the blessed Owen, sir Champion. You bear the Deathstalker name. Do you swear before this House that neither you nor any member of your family have any old, secret records concerning Owen's fate? Some concealed family history, preserved in defiance of the old edict? If you know anything about Owen Deathstalker's fate, or his possible whereabouts today, I charge you on the authority of this House to reveal those secrets to us now, and turn over any and all papers and documents your family may possess; that they may be studied by experts!"

  "My branch of the family are only distant cousins to Owen," Lewis said carefully. "We only took the Deathstalker name as a courtesy. We don't know anything more than you do, Michel. King Robert and Queen Constance were very thorough. You have to wonder if perhaps they had good reason…"

  "And let me remind the honorable Member for Virimonde that no one makes demands of my Champion," said Douglas, glaring coldly at du Bois. "Nor should you take it on yourself to claim the authority of the House in any matter, without first going through me as Speaker. Now return to your Seat before I have you charged with contempt. You've had your moment of glory. You've got your Quest. Settle for that."

  "Thanks, Douglas," said Lewis.

  "You're welcome, Lewis," said Douglas. They didn't look at each other.

  And Michel du Bois didn't budge from his position in front of the Throne. Instead, he started haranguing Douglas over where the funding was to come from to support the Paragons' Quest. He was determined his Quest should not get bogged down in financial subcommittees, as had threatened to happen with the Parade of the Paragons. The King shot down du Bois's problems and objections one by one, backed by the rest of the House; but Lewis wasn't listening. He was looking down at the black gold ring on his finger. The Deathstalker ring. Owen's old ring… a solid piece of legend that had unexpectedly resurfaced from the past. Where had that mysterious little man called Vaughn got it from? Why had he been so determined that Lewis should have it? Was the ring's return a sign? A warning? And why had Lewis felt so strongly that he shouldn't mention it to du Bois? Lewis studied the ring on his finger, and a cold breeze caressed the back of his neck. The old Clan ring made him a Deathstalker, hell, the Deathstalker, inasmuch as anything could now. It was like having Owen looking over his shoulder, giving him his approval and pointing him on to greater things… Which was a scary bloody thought, if you liked.

  Deathstalker luck… always bad…

  He came out of his reverie to find that du Bois had finally, reluctantly, returned to his Seat, and the House was agreeing to the Speakers proposal that the Parade of the Paragons would be an excellent time to announce the Quest to the Empire; to gain maximum publicity. The media were going to need some good news to put up against the coming of the Terror. As it was, peacekeepers all across the worlds would be working overtime to prevent riots and panic in the streets. Lewis snapped to attention again as King Douglas announced that his Champion, Lewis Deathstalker, would be leading the Parade of Paragons. The House applauded politely. Lewis leaned in close beside Douglas.

  "Are you sure you want to do this? You said it yourself; I'm no longer a Paragon. Why not let Finn lead the Parade? It was his idea, after all."

  "I
want you to lead the Parade because you're my Champion," said Douglas. "To show I still have faith in you, after the Neuman riot. And I'm still not sure about Finn. Word is, Emma Steel has been doing all his work lately. He probably only came up with the Parade so he could lead it and smile for the cameras. No, Lewis; you'll lead the Parade, because I say so. Any more problems?"

  "Well, since you ask," said Lewis, "Do you really think it's a good idea to scatter the Paragons across the Empire on a Quest that's probably going to come to nothing? Who's going to keep order on the worlds, while the Paragons are all off chasing ghosts and shadows?"

  "The peacekeepers," said Douglas. "They can hold the fort until my Paragons return. Let them earn their money for once. They're always saying they want more responsibility. The Parade and the Quest are necessary, Lewis. Necessary for public morale. You'll lead the Parade, and you'll smile while you do it. That is an order from your King. Do I make myself clear?

  "Very clear. Can I ask one more question?"

  "If you must."

  "Assuming Owen is alive out there, somewhere… assuming we find him; what if he doesn't want to come back? If he's stayed missing all these years, he just might have a damned good reason."

  "You tell him to come back," said Douglas, looking straight into Lewis' eyes for the first time. "Or everything he did, everything he achieved, will have all been for nothing."

  "Oh great," said Lewis. "I'm sure that's just what he's going to want to hear."

  It was the day of the Parade, the day of the Paragons, crossing from one side of the Parade of the Endless to the other. The media had been short-stroking the event on all the news channels almost exclusively for the last twenty-four hours, praising and glorifying the Paragons just as in the good old days. The crime and docudrama channels had been running old (successful) Paragon cases end to end, showing the downfall of villains and terrorists and monsters, just to remind everyone how much reason they had to love the King's Justice. As a result, pretty much the whole city turned out to watch the Parade; if only so they wouldn't have to think about the Terror for a while. Parliament had put an absolute embargo on showing any of the actual recordings of what had happened out on the Rim, but inevitably some illegal, tenth-generation copies were going the rounds, turning up on pirate and underground channels, until the peacekeepers moved in to shut them down. All across the Empire, people were scared, even if they weren't sure what of, yet. The Terror was just a name, for now. Parliament was determined to keep it that way for as long as possible. And certainly until well after the Quest had been announced.

  Right now the Paragons were marching; all of the King's Justice left after their losses at the Neuman riot, resplendent in their gleaming armor and proud purple cloaks, led by Lewis Deathstalker in his black leather Champion's armor. Crowds lined the pavements of every street, packed tightly together in rows several deep, waving flags and banners and calling out the names of their favorites in the short breaks between the massed cheering. Most impressively of all, it was all totally spontaneous. No one had had to encourage the people out onto the streets, though Parliament had certainly been ready to try. Time had passed since the Neuman riot, and perhaps the people were just a little ashamed at how quickly they'd turned against their former idols. And perhaps, in the face of the Terror, they needed to believe in their heroes again. Certainly the Parade of the Endless had never seen crowds and excitement like it.

  It seemed like everyone in the city who wasn't on essential duties had turned out to honor the Paragons on their great Parade. They even gathered on flat roofs, on balconies, and leaned precariously out of windows to shout and scream and blow kisses. It rained rose petals all down the main routes, and on some of the busier intersections peacekeeper security actually had to set up low level force shields to hold the overenthusiastic crowds back. More peacekeepers, in what they fondly imagined to be plain clothes, infiltrated the crowds to watch out for pickpockets and flashers and, of course, agents provocateurs. But there was hardly any trouble at all. The people were determined to be in a good mood. They even remained fairly good-natured in the face of illegal street traders charging twenty credits for a bottle of water or something dubious in a hot dog.

  Lewis Deathstalker strode out proudly at the front of the Parade, his old purple cloak flapping around his Champion's armor. It felt good to be back among his old comrades again, accepted by them and the thronging multitudes. He did his best to keep his ugly face pleasant, and even managed the occasional smile for the media cameras. He kept the pace of the march deliberately slow. It was still early in the day, but already it was more than comfortably warm. Parliament had had a quiet but forceful word in the ear of weather control, to make sure they provided the best and most comfortable conditions for the crowds. As a result, it was so warm and balmy, you'd hardly know it was still winter. However, Lewis was already beginning to sweat inside his leather armor, and didn't even want to think about how it must be feeling for the Paragons inside their steel breastplates. So he kept the pace slow, and steady.

  The route Finn Durandal had so carefully planned led the Paragons from the southern boundary all the way across the city to the northern, passing through as many attractive points of interest and tourist attractions as possible, to be sure those watching the Parade on their vidscreens all across the Empire got their money's worth. It was going to be a long walk. Lewis had wisely prepared the night before by working rubbing alcohol into his feet, and pissing into his boots before leaving them to stand overnight (old hunting and tracking tricks), but he just knew that by the end of the day, his and every other Paragon's feet were going to be killing them.

  The cheering and approbation of the crowds was very pleasant, though. Anywhen else, Lewis might have allowed himself to enjoy it. If it hadn't been for the Terror, and the Quest, and Jesamine.

  Finn Durandal was marching right behind Lewis, his new partner, Emma Steel, striding out at his side. Finn constantly smiled and waved to the crowds, and they loved him for it. His armor had been buffed and polished until it gleamed like the sun, and his classically handsome face was bright and open and charming. He looked like a young god, tall and brave and true, a splendid presence come down to earth to acknowledge his worshipers. Showing just enough humility so that he wouldn't come across as arrogant, of course. Finn had always been able to judge these things to a tee.

  Emma Steel looked smart and stylish and just a little bit glamorous. Her flat black hair was still pulled back into a strictly functional bun, but her coffee skin and fine bone structure had a grace and warmth that owed nothing to artifice or design. Unlike certain other Paragons she could name. Emma was what she was, which was a refreshing change on Logres. She'd made a good name for herself as a tireless thief-taker in her short time in the city, pursuing villains and scumbags with enthusiasm and stubbornness, and the people (mostly) approved of her. They made sure she knew it, shouting her name over and over again. She smiled and nodded, and tried not to let it go to her head, although this was more like the kind of reception she'd always imagined for herself on Logres.

  Finn ignored her as much as possible, intent on charming the crowd. Though Emma couldn't help noticing he spent a surprising amount of time studying the windows and alleyways on either side of them. Surely it was far too early for trouble yet? After all, a small army of peacekeeper security was treading the streets ahead of them, checking thoroughly for any sign of Hellfire Club or Shadow Court troublemakers. Emma tried to tell herself Finn was just being paranoid, but couldn't keep from surreptitiously checking the occasional window and alleyway herself. Just to be sure.

  Two streets ahead, the ELFs were waiting. The security people had already passed them by, looking right at the ELFs in their hiding places and seeing nothing. Safely hidden behind telepathic projections, the ELFs sat patiently, waiting for their prey to come to them. They snacked lightly on the fevered emotions of the crowds, but did not feast. Pleasant emotions did not satisfy them. They'd moved into the positions Fi
nn had suggested a full twelve hours in advance, just so they could check out the situation, and make sure the Paragon hadn't arranged any nasty surprises for them. But it was all as he'd said. No waiting Paragons or peacekeepers, no troops with esp-blockers. Just a series of empty rooms in several anonymous office buildings, overlooking the Parade's route, as promised. The ELFs killed everyone else in the buildings, just to be on the safe side and because they enjoyed it, and then broadcast subtle telepathic avoidance fields, so no one else would want to enter the buildings. Happy onlookers crowded the streets outside the office buildings, and never knew or suspected a thing.

  The ELFs watched the Parade of the Paragons draw slowly nearer, from behind tinted windows, and smiled poisonous smiles. Thirty-two ELFs, the largest gathering of rogue espers in one place since… well, since the Arena debacle, but this coming triumph would pay for all those losses. The ELFs had decided that revenge on the Paragons wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. The crowds and the city had to suffer too. Thirty-two esper minds working together could execute all kinds of dark wonders and miracles. They would do terrible things, appalling things, bloody things. And the media cameras that came to cover the Paragons would broadcast it all live to a horrified Empire.

  Nothing and no one would be spared. The city would burn and the ELFs would feed, and they would come forth and walk openly in triumph through the Hell they'd made, and defy anyone to put right what they'd done. And before they left, they'd gather all the severed heads and pile them into a great staring mountain right before the main doors of the House of Parliament; a thousand heads for every head Finn Durandal had taken in the Arena.