The Jewel in the Skull

  The man pointed a trembling finger and croaked, 'That way, masters. The one with the dome that has zodiacal signs inlaid in ebony on a silver roof. Down that street. Do not kill me. I. . .' He sighed in relief as Hawkmoon turned his great blue horse and rode for the street he had indicated.

  The domed house with the zodiacal signs was soon in sight. Hawkmoon stopped at the gate and hammered on it with the pommel of his sword. His head was beginning to throb again, and he knew instinctively that Count Brass's spells could not hold the Black Jewel's life for much longer. He realized that he should have approached the sorcerer's house in a more courteous manner, but there was no time, with Granbretan's soldiers everywhere in the streets of the city. Overhead two of the giant bats flapped, seeking victims.

  At last the gate swung open and four huge Negroes armed with pikes and dressed in purple robes barred the way. Hawkmoon saw a courtyard beyond them. He tried to ride forward, but the pikes menaced him immediately. 'What business have you with our master, Malagigi?' one of the Negroes asked.

  'I seek his help. It is a matter of great importance. I am in peril.'

  A figure appeared on the steps leading to the house. The man was clad in a simple white toga. He had long grey hair and was clean-shaven. His face was lined and old, but the skin had a youthful appearance.

  'Why should Malagigi help you?' the man asked. 'You are from the West, I see. The people of the West bring war and dissension to Hamadan. Begone! I'll have none of you!'

  'You are the Lord Malagigi?' Hawkmoon began. 'I am a victim of these same people. Help me and I can help you be rid of them. Please, I beg you -'

  'Begone. I'll play no part in your internal warring!' The Negroes pressed the two men back, and the gates closed.

  Hawkmoon began to bang again on the gates, but then Oladahn gripped his arm and pointed. Up the street toward them came some six wolf-helmed riders led by one whose ornate mask Hawkmoon instantly recognized. It was Meliadus.

  'Ha! Your time is near, Hawkmoon!' screamed Meliadus in triumph, drawing his sword and charging forward.

  Hawkmoon wrenched his horse about. Although his hatred for Meliadus burned as deeply as ever, he knew he could not fight at that moment. He and Oladahn fled back down the street, their powerful horses outdistancing those of Meliadus's men.

  Agonosvos or his messenger must have told Meliadus where Hawkmoon was bound, and the baron must have come here to join his own men, help them take Hamadan, and wreak his personal vengeance on Hawkmoon.

  Down one narrow street after another Hawkmoon dashed, until he had for the moment lost his pursuer. 'We must escape the city,' he shouted to Oladahn. 'It is our only chance. Perhaps later we can sneak back and convince Malagigi to help us . . .' His voice trailed off as one of the gigantic bats swooped suddenly down, to alight immediately in front of them and begin to stalk forward, claws outstretched. Beyond this creature was an open gate and freedom.

  So full of desperation was Hawkmoon now, since Malagigi had refused him, that he charged straight at the battle beast, sword slashing at its cruel claws, flinging himself against it. The bat whistled, and the claws struck, clutching Hawkmoon by his already wounded arm. The young nobleman brought his sword up again and again, hewing at the thing's wrist until black blood spurted and the tendon was severed. The beaked mouth clicked open and thrust at Hawkmoon. The horse reared as the head came down, and Hawkmoon thrust his sword up wildly, striking for the huge, beady eye. The sword plunged in. The creature screamed. Yellow mucus began to pour from the wound.

  Hawkmoon struck a second time. The thing reeled and began to fall toward him. Hawkmoon managed to pull his horse aside barely in time as the battle beast collapsed. Now he raced for the gate and the hills beyond, Oladahn in his wake calling, 'You have killed it, Lord Dorian! This is the stuff of the lays!' And the little man laughed with a fierce joy.

  Soon they were in the hills, joining the hundreds of beaten warriors who had survived the battle in the city. They rode slowly now and at length came to a shallow valley where they saw the bronze chariot that the warrior queen had driven earlier and rank after rank of weary soldiery lying down in the tough grass while the raven-haired woman went among them. Near the chariot Hawkmoon saw another figure. It was the Warrior in Jet and Gold, and he seemed to be waiting for Hawkmoon.

  Hawkmoon dismounted as he reached the warrior. The woman approached and stood leaning against her chariot, her eyes still glowing with the anger Hawkmoon had noted before.

  The Warrior in Jet and Gold's rich voice came from his helmet, faintly laconic. 'So Malagigi would not help you, eh?'

  Hawkmoon shook his head, looking at the woman without curiosity. Disappointment filled him but was beginning to be replaced with the wild fatalism that had saved his life in his battle with the giant bat. 'I am finished now,' he said. 'But at least I can return and find a way to destroy Meliadus.'

  'We have that ambition in common,' said the woman. 'I am Queen Frawbra. My treacherous brother covets the throne and seeks to get it with the aid of your Meliadus and his warriors. Mayhap he already has it. I cannot tell yet - but it would seem we are badly outnumbered, and there's scant chance of retaking the city.'

  Hawkmoon looked at her thoughtfully. 'If there was a slim chance, would you seize it?'

  'If there was no chance at all I'd have half a mind to try,' the woman replied. 'But I'm not sure my warriors would follow me!'

  At that moment three more horsemen rode into the camp. Queen Frawbra called to them. 'Have you just escaped the city?'

  'Aye,' one answered. They are already looting. I have never seen such savage conquerors as those Westerners. Their leader - the big man - has even broken into Malagigi's house and made him prisoner!'

  'What!' Hawkmoon cried. 'Meliadus has the sorcerer prisoner? Ah, then, there is no hope at all for me.'

  The Warrior in Jet and Gold said, 'Nonsense. There is still hope. So long as Meliadus keeps Malagigi alive - and one might expect him to, since the sorcerer has many secrets Meliadus desires to learn - then you have a chance. You must return to Hamadan with Queen Frawbra's armies, retake the city, and rescue Malagigi.'

  Hawkmoon shrugged. 'But is there time? Already the Jewel shows signs of warmth. That means its life is returning. Soon I will be a mindless creature . . .'

  'Then you have nothing to lose, Lord Dorian,' Oladahn put in. He laid a furry hand on Hawkmoon's arm and gave it a friendly squeeze. 'Nothing to lose at all.'

  Hawkmoon laughed bitterly, shrugging off his friend's hand. 'Aye, you're right. Nothing. Well, Queen Frawbra, what say you?'

  The armoured woman said, 'Let us speak to what remains of my force.'

  A little later, Hawkmoon stood in the chariot and addressed the battle-weary warriors. 'Men of Hamadan, I have travelled for many hundreds of miles from the West, where Granbretan holds sway. My own father was tortured to death by the same Baron Meliadus who aids your queen's enemies today. I have seen whole nations reduced to ashes, their populations slain or enslaved. I have seen children crucified and hanging on gibbets. I have seen brave warriors turned to cringing dogs.'

  'I know that you must feel it is hopeless to resist the masked men of the Dark Empire, but they can be beaten. I, myself, was one of the commanders of an army little more than a thousand strong that put an army of Granbretan more than twenty times its number to flight. It was our will to live that enabled us to do it - our knowledge that even if we fled we should be hunted down and die eventually, ignobly.'

  'You can at least die courageously like men — and know that there is a chance of defeating the forces that have taken your city today...'

  He spoke on in this vein, and gradually the tired warriors rallied. Some cheered him. Then Queen Frawbra joined him in the chariot and cried to her men to follow Hawkmoon back to Hamadan, to strike while the enemy was unwary, while its soldiers were drunk and squabbled over their loot.

  Hawkmoon's words had given them cheer; now they saw the logic of Queen Frawbra's words. They be
gan to buckle on their weapons, adjust their armour, look for their horses.

  'We'll attack tonight,' the queen shouted, 'giving them no time to get wind of our plan.'

  'I'll ride with you, I think,' said the Warrior in Jet and Gold.

  And that night they rode to Hamadan, where the conquering soldiers revelled and the gates still stood open and hardly guarded and the battle beasts slept soundly, their stomachs full of their prey.

  5

  The Black Jewel's Life

  They had thundered into the city and were striking about them almost before the enemy realized what was happening. Hawkmoon led them. Hawkmoon's head was full of agony, and the Black Jewel had begun to pulse in his skull. His face was taut and white, and there was something about his presence that made soldiers flee before him as his horse reared and he raised his sword and screamed, 'Hawkmoon! Hawkmoon!' cutting about him in a hysteria of killing.

  Close behind him came the Warrior in Jet and Gold, fighting methodically with an air of detached ease. Queen Frawbra was there, driving her chariot into startled groups of warriors, and Oladahn of the Mountains stood up in his stirrups and shot arrow after arrow into the enemy.

  Street by street they drove Nahak's forces and the wolf-helmed mercenaries through the city. Then Hawkmoon saw the dome of Malagigi's house and leaped his horse over the heads of those who blocked his way, reaching the house and standing upon his mount's back to grasp the top of the wall and haul himself over.

  He dropped into the courtyard, just missing the sprawled body of one of Malagigi's Negro guards. The door of the house had been broken down, and the interior had been wrecked.

  Stumbling through the smashed furniture, Hawkmoon found a narrow stairway. Doubtless this led to the sorcerer's laboratories. He was hallway up the stairs, when a door opened at the top and two wolf-masked guards appeared, running down to meet him, their swords ready. Hawkmoon brought up his own sword to defend himself. His face was set in a death's-head grin as he fought, and his eyes blazed with a madness that was mixed fury and despair. Once, twice, his sword darted forward, and then there were two corpses tumbling down the stairs and Hawkmoon had entered the room at the top, to discover Malagigi strapped to a wall, the marks of torture on his limbs.

  Quickly he cut the old man down and lowered him gently to a couch in the corner. There were benches everywhere, with alchemical apparatus and small machines resting on them. Malagigi stirred and opened his eyes.

  'You must help me, sir, Hawkmoon said thickly. *I came here to save your life. At least you could try to save mine.'

  Malagigi raised himself on the couch, wincing in pain. 'I told you - I'll do nothing for either side. Torture me if you will, as your countrymen did, but 1 11 not -'

  Damn you!' Hawkmoon swore. My head's afire. I'll be lucky if I last till dawn. You must not refuse. I have come two thousand miles to seek your aid. I am as much a victim of Granbretan as you. More. I -

  'Prove that, and perhaps I'll help you,' Malagigi said. Drive the invaders from the city and then return.

  By then it will be too late. The Jewel has its life. At any moment —'

  Prove it, said Malagigi, and sank back on the couch.

  Hawkmoon half-raised his sword. In his wild rage and desperation he was ready to strike the old man. But then he turned and ran back down the stairs and out into the courtyard, unbarring the gate and leaping into the saddle of his horse again.

  At length he found Oladahn. How does the battle go? he yelled over the heads of fighting swordsmen.

  'Not too well, I think. Meliadus and Nahak have regrouped and hold a good half of the city. Their main force is in the central square, where the palace stands. Queen Frawbra and your armoured friend are already leading an attack there, but I fear it's hopeless.'

  'Let's see for ourselves,' Hawkmoon said, yanking at his mount's bridle and forcing his way through the embattled warriors, striking here and there at friend or foe, depending on which stood in his path.

  Oladahn followed, and they came eventually into the great central square, to find the armies drawn up facing each other. Horsed at the head of their men were Meliadus and the rather foolish-faced Nahak, who was plainly a tool of the Dark Empire baron. Opposite them were Queen Frawbra in her battered war chariot and the Warrior in Jet and Gold.

  As Hawkmoon and Oladahn entered the square, they heard Meliadus call through the flickering torchlight that illuminated the armies, 'Where is that treacherous coward Hawkmoon? Skulking in hiding, perhaps?'

  Hawkmoon broke through the line of warriors, noticing that their ranks were thin. Here I am, Meliadus. I have come to destroy you!'

  Meliadus laughed. 'Destroy me? Know you not that you live only by my whim? Do you feel the Black Jewel, Hawkmoon, ready to nibble at your mind?'

  Involuntarily, Hawkmoon put his hand to his throbbing forehead, feeling the evil warmth of the Black Jewel, knowing that Meliadus spoke the truth. 'Then why do you wait?' he said grimly.

  'Because I am ready to offer you a bargain. Tell these fools their cause is hopeless. Tell them to throw down their arms - and I will spare you the worst.'

  Now Hawkmoon fully realized that he did, indeed, retain his mind only at the pleasure of his enemies. Meliadus had restrained his desire for immediate vengeance in the hope of forcing Hawkmoon to save Granbretan further losses.

  Hawkmoon paused, unable to answer, trying to debate the issues. There was silence from his own ranks as they waited tensely to hear his decision. He knew that the whole fate of Hamadan might now depend on him. As he sat there, his mind in confusion, Oladahn nudged his arm and murmured, Lord Dorian, take this.' Hawkmoon glanced down at the thing the mountain man offered him. It was a helmet. At first he did not recognize it. Then he saw that it was the helm that had been wrenched from the skull of Agonosvos. He remembered the disgusting head that had once reposed in it and shuddered.

  'Why? The thing is befouled.'

  'My father was a sorcerer,' Oladahn reminded him. He taught me secrets. This helm has certain properties. There are circuits built into it which will protect you for a short time from the full force of the Black Jewel's power. Put it on, my lord, I beg you.

  How can I be sure . . . ?

  Put it on - and find out.

  Gingerly Hawkmoon removed his own helmet and donned the sorcerer's. It was a tight fit and he felt stifled by it, but he realized that the Jewel no longer pulsed so fast. He smiled, and a wild feeling of elation filled him. He drew his sword. 'This is my answer, Baron Meliadus!' he yelled, and charged full at the startled Lord of Granbretan.

  Meliadus cursed and struggled to get his own sword from its scabbard. He had scarcely done so before Hawkmoon's sword had knocked his wolf helm clean from his head and his scowling, bewildered face was revealed. Behind Hawkmoon came the cheering soldiers of Hamadan, led by Oladahn, Queen Frawbra, and the Warrior in Jet and Gold. They clashed with the enemy, forcing them back to the gates of the palace.

  From the corner of his eye, Hawkmoon saw Queen Frawbra lean from her chariot and encircle her brother's throat with her arm, dragging him from his saddle. Her hand rose and fell twice, bearing a bloody dagger, and Nahak's corpse dropped to the ground, to be trampled by the horsemen who followed the queen.

  Hawkmoon was still driven by wild despair, knowing that the helm of Agonosvos could not protect him for long. He swung his sword rapidly, striking blow after blow at Meliadus, who parried as swiftly. Meliadus's face was twisted in an expression resembling that of the wolf helmet he had lost, and a hatred burned from his eyes that matched Hawkmoon's own.

  Their swords clanged rhythmically in warlike harmony, each blow blocked, each blow returned, and it seemed that they would continue in this way until one dropped from weariness. But then a group of fighting warriors backed against Hawkmoon's horse and caused it to rear, throwing him backward so that he lost his footing in his stirrups, and Meliadus grinned and thrust at Hawkmoon's undefended chest. The blow lacked force, but it was enough to push Hawkmoon
from his saddle. He fell to the ground below the hooves of Meliadus's horse.

  He rolled away as the baron tried to trample him, dragged himself to his feet, and did his best to defend himself from the volley of blows rained down on him by the triumphant Granbretanian.

  Twice Meliadus's sword struck the helmet of Agonosvos, denting it badly. Hawkmoon felt the Jewel begin to pulse afresh. He shouted wordlessly and dashed in close.

  Astonished by this unexpected move, Meliadus was taken off-guard, and his attempt to block Hawkmoon's thrust was only half-successful. Hawkmoon's sword cut a great furrow along one side of Meliadus's unprotected head, and his whole face seemed to open up and gush blood, his mouth crooked with pain and paralysis. He tried to wipe the blood from his eyes, and Hawkmoon grasped his sword arm and hauled him down to the ground. Meliadus wrenched himself free, stumbled backward, then rushed at Hawkmoon, his sword a blur of metal, striking Hawkmoon's blade with such force that both swords snapped.

  For a moment the panting antagonists stood still, glaring at one another; then each drew a long dirk from his belt, and they began to circle, poised to strike. Meliadus's handsome features were handsome no longer, and if he lived, would always bear the mark of Hawkmoon's blow. Blood still came plentifully from the wound, trickling down his breastplate.

  Hawkmoon, for his part, was wearying rapidly. The wound he had sustained the day before was beginning to trouble him, and his head was on fire with the pain the Jewel caused. He could hardly see for it, and twice he staggered, only to right himself as Meliadus feinted with his dagger.

  Then both men moved and were instantly locked together, grappling desperately to stab the single mortal blow that would end their feud.