Ghost Legion (81 page)

All is as it was meant to be.

"I wish I could believe that," she said suddenly, with a
sigh, a frown. "If I could ..."

That was odd. There was something on the bed, a bundle. She was
positive it hadn't been there a moment before.

Her first impulse was to call Tusk.

She didn't, however. She drew near, cautious, wondering.

It was hard, angular, and had been wrapped neatly in the folds of an
azure blue velvet cape.

Reverent, awed, Kamil gently lifted the soft blue fabric, drew it
aside.

Shining, silver armor.

One short sleep past, we wake eternally,

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

John Donne,
Holy Sonnets

The radiant being entered the halls of heaven with slow and solemn
tread. The shining light of the Presence cast long shadows behind the
two who stood in judgment. The awful majesty of heaven shone full
upon them, but they did not flinch or lower their eyes before it.

They stood together, gold and silver. They stood tall, proud,
defiant.

The radiant being sighed.

Ascending the throne of judgment, the being commanded, "My lord,
come forward."

Sagan left Maigrey's side, came to stand before heaven, alone.

The radiant being looked down on him from a great height.

"My lord, you have done wrong. Not uncommon in mortals, but in
you I see no repentance. I hear no plea for forgiveness."

Lord Sagan made no response, did not lift his eyes to look into the
bright light.

"You knew the will of God, my lord."

"I did," Sagan replied.

"You deliberately thwarted it."

Sagan pressed his lips together, was silent. Fire flickered in the
dark eyes. Then he said, "I did."

"No, he didn't!" Maigrey protested. She started to take a
step forward, to come to his side. "My lord
didn't
thwart
God's will! He sacrificed his life—"

"But I did." Lord Sagan halted her with a warding, upraised
hand. And now he lifted his gaze, regarded the being grimly. "You
see, my lady, Dion was meant to die."

"That can't be true," Maigrey faltered, staring upward.

"It is," Sagan said. "That was the portent of the
test. Flaim, a king. Dion, a martyr. That was the plan."

"But why?" Maigrey demanded.

"And do you ask God to explain His ways to you?" The
personage was severe, implacable. "My lord, we might take a
merciful view of this matter, if we were convinced that you acted out
of compassion, selfless love, loyalty—as did Lady Maigrey.
Since you have kept your heart deliberately concealed from our view,
you are the only one who knows the truth. Was it this which led you
to defy God?

"Or did you act out of pride, out of arrogance, out of a need to
demonstrate your own power? Did you thwart God's will, my lord simply
to show Him that you could?"

Sagan smiled dark, twisted. He made no other answer.

"Which is it, my lord?" The personage was stern.

"Whatever you want to believe of me," Sagan answered.

The radiant being gazed down at him in sadness. "I offer you, my
lord, one more chance. Confess, repent, be redeemed."

Sagan stared straight ahead. He did not lift his eyes. Or lower them.

The personage sighed a second time.

"Very well, then. I have no choice but to deem you guilty.

"Lady Maigrey, come forward. You deliberately broke your
covenant with God. You crossed from this blessed realm to the
physical. You interfered with the living and thus you, too, thwarted
God's will. Do you repent, my lady? Do you ask for forgiveness? Think
well before you reply. Recall the terrible punishment you face."

A portal opened before her.

"Look into it, my lady. I repeat here what I said to you once
before. Into that dread world you will be cast. You will not be
permitted to return to this blessed realm, except by a path that is
long and difficult and filled with pain. Many are those who have
perished on it, to live in dreadful torment and agony, bereft of all
hope of comfort, peace, redemption. That is the fate you face. And
you face it alone."

Maigrey stared down the path that led from light into darkness. At
the terrible sight, defiance seeped out of her, like her heart's
blood flowing. Her eyes lowered; she could not face it. Her head
bowed. Her hands clasped together, holding tightly to her
fast-diminishing courage.

Sagan, too, stared down that path and, strong as he was, he blenched,
paled. But he stepped forward, came to stand by her side.

"She will not go alone," he said.

"Is that your choice, my lord?" the radiant being asked.

"It is."

"And is this your choice, my lady? Or will you repent?"

"How can you ask that of me?" She raised her eyes. "I
would go to him again, if he needed me, though all hell barred my
way."

"You may well face that test," said the personage sadly.

"Then go with him now, my lady. And you go with her, my lord.
This much mercy We will show. The way back is open to you. The path
is dark and dangerous, but it is clearly marked. If you look for it,
you will find it. But the road will not be easy. May God go with
you."

"He needn't bother," said Sagan.

He turned to Maigrey. Bowing, he extended his hand to her. "My
lady?"

She placed her hand in his. "My lord."

Neither looking back, the two entered the darkness, together.

"At least," said the radiant being to the Immortal Watching
Eye, "we've accomplished that much."

The portal closed behind them. The personage descended from the
throne. He was stopped, at the bottom, by a thin man with a careworn
face.

"Yes, Platus? What is it?"

"They saved Dion's life. They kept a cruel and heartless man
from becoming king. How is this wrong?"

"Thousands of years ago, a man was crucified by cruel and
heartless men. What would have happened if someone had intervened to
save him?"

"I don't know," said Platus softly. "Perhaps he would
have lived an ordinary, happy life."

"But that was not the plan."

Platus shook his head. "I don't understand."

"Of course, you don't, child," the radiant being said
kindly. "God is the beginning and the end. You are only the
middle."

I am pleased to acknowledge the use of invaluable notes written by
Gary Pack, noted physicist, who was the first to discover and explain
the anomaly of the strange dark-matter creatures.

Many thanks also to Nicole Harsch; Mike Sekuta; Janet Pack; Gary
Pack; Captain Richard Dhur, Royal Canadian Artillery; and Captain Don
Perrin, retired, Royal Canadian Artillery, for staging the last
battle scene.

I would like to credit an editorial written by Richard Brookhiser,
senior editor,
National Review,
that appeared in
Time
magazine, November 11, 1991, titled "Why Not Bring Back the
Czars?" for inspiration.

Many, many thanks to Steve Youll for wonderful cover art and for his
support and encouragement. I'm thankful he gave up his career as a
starship pilot.

To David Cole—there should be an award for great copy-editors.
You'd get my vote!

And finally, to Amy Stout—my editor at Bantam/Spectra for many
years. We miss you, Amy. Maigrey and Sagan and Dion and Tusk and XJ
and I all miss you. God bless.

Born in Independence, Missouri, Margaret Weis graduated from the
University of Missouri and worked as a book editor before teaming up
with Tracy Hickman to develop the
Dragonlance
novels and the
Deathgate
books. Margaret lives in a renovated barn in
Wisconsin with her teenage daughter, Elizabeth Baldwin, and two dogs
and one cat, where she is working on a new novel. She enjoys reading
(especially Charles Dickens), opera, and snow-shoeing.