Lord of Light (37 page)

When Brahma activated the screen within his Pavilion, he saw a man who wore the blue-green turban of Urath.

"Where is the priest?" asked Brahma.

"Tied up outside. I can have him dragged in, if you'd like to hear a prayer or two. . ."

"Who are you that wears the turban of the First and goes armed in the Temple?"

"I have a strange feeling of having been through all this once before," said the man.

"Answer my questions!"

"Do you want Nirriti stopped. Lady? Or do you want to give him all these cities along the river?"

"You try the patience of Heaven, mortal? You shall not leave the Temple alive."

"Your threats of death mean nothing to the chief of the Lokapalas, Kali."

"The Lokapalas are no more, and they had no chief."

"You look upon him, Durga."

"
Yama
? Is that you?"

"No, but he is here with me—as are Krishna, and Kubera."

"Agni is dead. Every new Agni has died since. . ."

"Keenset. I know, Candi. I was not a member of the original team. Rild didn't kill me. The phantom cat who shall remain nameless did a good job, but it wasn't good enough. And now I've crossed back over the Bridge of the Gods. The Lokapalas have chosen me as their leader. We will defend Khaipur and break Nirriti, if Heaven will help us."

"Sam . . . it couldn't be you!"

"Then call me Kalkin, or Siddhartha, or Tathagatha, or Mahasamatman, or Binder, or Buddha, or Maitreya. It's Sam, though. I have come to worship thee and make a bargain."

"Name it."

"Men have been able to live with Heaven, but Nirriti is another matter. Yama and Kubera have brought weapons into the city. We can fortify it and whip up a good defense. If Heaven will add its power to our own, Nirriti will meet his downfall at Khaipur. We will do this, if Heaven will sanction Acceleration and religious freedom, and end the reign of the Lords of Karma."

"That's quite a bit, Sam . . ."

"The first two merely amount to agreeing that something does exist and has a right to go on. The third will come to pass whether you like it or not, so I'm giving you a chance to be graceful about it."

"I'll have to think . . ."

"Take a minute. I'll wait. If the answer is no, though, we'll pull out and let Renfrew have this city, defile this Temple. After he's taken a few more, you'll have to meet him. We won't be around then, though. We'll wait till it's all over. If you're still in business then, you won't be in any position to decide about those terms I just gave you. If you're not, I think we'll be able to take the Black One on and best him and what will be left of his zombies. Either way, we get what we want. This way is easier on you, though."

"All right! I'll muster the forces immediately. We will ride together in this last battle, Kalkin. Nirriti dies at Khaipur! Keep someone there in the comm-room, so we can stay in contact."

"I'll make this my headquarters."

"Now untie the priest and bring him here. He is about to receive some divine orders, and, shortly, a divine visitation."

"Yes, Brahma."

"Sam, wait! After the battle, should we live, I would talk with you—concerning mutual worship."

"You wish to become a Buddhist?"

"No, a woman again . . ."

"There is a place and a moment for all things, and this is neither."

"When the time and the moment occur, I will be there."

"I'll get you your priest now. Hold the line."

Now after the fall of Lananda, Nirriti held a service amid the ruins of that city, praying for victory over the other cities. His dark sergeants beat the drums slowly and the zombies fell to their knees. Nirriti prayed until the perspiration covered his face like a mask of glass and light, and it ran down inside his prosthetic armor, which gave him the strength of many. Then he lifted up his face to the heavens, looked upon the Bridge of the Gods and said, "Amen."

Then he turned and headed toward Khaipur, his army rising at his back.

When Nirriti came to Khaipur, the gods were waiting.

The troops from Kilbar were waiting, as well as those of Khaipur.

And the demigods and the heroes and the nobles were waiting.

And the high-ranking Brahmins and many of the followers of Mahasamatman were waiting. These latter having come in the name of the Divine Esthetic.

Nirriti looked across the mined field that led to the walls of the city, and he saw the four horsemen who were the Lokapalas waiting by the gate, the banners of Heaven flaring beside them in the wind.

He lowered his visor and turned to Olvegg.

"You were right. I wonder if Ganesha waits within?"

"We will know soon enough."

Nirriti continued his advance.

This was the day when the Lord of Light held the field. The minions of Nirriti never entered Khaipur. Ganesha fell beneath the blade of Olvegg, as he was attempting to backstab Brahma, who had closed with Nirriti upon a hillock. Olvegg then fell, clutching his stomach, and began crawling toward a rock.

Brahma and the Black One then faced one another on foot and Ganesha's head rolled into a gully.

"That one told me Kilbar," said Nirriti.

"That one wanted Kilbar," said Brahma, "and tried to make it Kilbar. Now I know why."

They sprang together and Nirriti's armor fought for him with the strength of many.

Yama spurred his horse toward the rise and was enveloped in a swirling of dust and sand. He raised his cloak to his eyes and laughter rang about him.

"Where is your death-gaze now, Yama-Dharma?"

"Rakasha!" he snarled.

"Yes. It is I, Taraka!"

And Yama was suddenly drenched with gallons of water; and his horse reared, falling over backward.

He was upon his feet with his blade in his hand, when the flaming whirlwind coalesced into a manlike form.

"I've washed you clean of that-which-repels, deathgod. Now you shall go down to destruction at my band!"

Yama lunged forward with his blade.

He cut through his gray opponent from shoulder to thigh, but no blood came and there was no sign of the passage of his blade.

"You cannot cut me down as you would a man, oh Death! But see what I can do to you!"

Taraka leapt upon him, pinning his arms to his sides and bearing him to the ground. A fountain of sparks arose.

In the distance, Brahma had his knee upon Nirriti's spine and was bending his head backward, against the power of the black armor. This was when Lord Indra leapt down from the back of his slizzard and raised his sword Thunderbolt against Brahma. He heard Nirriti's neck break.

"It is your cloak that protects you!" Taraka cried out, from where he wrestled on the ground; and then he looked into the eyes of Death. . . .

Yama felt Taraka weaken sufficiently to push him away.

He sprang to his feet and raced toward Brahma without stopping to pick up his blade. There on the hill, Brahma parried Thunderbolt again and again, blood spurting from the stump of his severed left arm and streaming from wounds of the head and chest. Nirriti held his ankle in a grip of steel.

Yama cried out as he charged, drawing his dagger.

Indra drew back, out of range of Brahma's blade, and turned to face him.

"A dagger against Thunderbolt, Red One?" he asked.

"Aye," said Yama, striking with his right hand and dropping the blade into his left for the true strike.

The point entered Indra's forearm.

Indra dropped Thunderbolt and struck Yama in the jaw. Yama fell, but he swept Indra's legs out from under him, carrying him to the ground.

His Aspect possessed him completely then, and as he glared Indra seemed to wither beneath his gaze. Taraka leapt upon his back just as Indra died. Yama tried to free himself, but it felt as if a mountain lay across his shoulders.

Brahma, who lay beside Nirriti, tore off his harness, which had been soaked with demon repellant. With his right hand he cast it across the space that separated them, so that it fell beside Yama.

Taraka withdrew, and Yama turned and gazed upon him. Thunderbolt then leapt up from where it had fallen upon the ground and sped toward Yama's breast.

Yama seized the blade with both hands, its point inches away from his heart. It began to move forward and the blood dripped from the palms of his hands and fell upon the ground.

Brahma turned a death-gaze upon the Lord of Hellwell, a gaze that drew now upon the force of life itself within him.

The point touched Yama.

Yama threw himself to the side, turning, and it gouged him from breastbone to shoulder as it passed.

Then his eyes were two spears, and the Rakasha lost his manlike form and became smoke. Brahma's head fell upon his breast.

Taraka screamed as Siddhartha rode toward him upon a white horse, the air crackling and smelling of ozone:

"No, Binder! Hold your power! My death belongs to Yama . . ."

"Oh foolish demon!" said Sam. "It need not have been . . ."

But Taraka was no more.

Yama fell to his knees beside Brahma and tied a tourniquet about what remained of his left arm.

"Kali!" he said. "Don't die! Talk to me. Kali!"

Brahma gasped and his eyes flickered open, but closed again.

"Too late," mumbled Nirriti. He turned his head and looked at Yama. "Or rather, just in time. You're Azrael, aren't you? The Angel of Death . . ."

Yama slapped him, and the blood upon his hand was smeared across Nirriti's face.

"'Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,'" said Nirriti. "'Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.' "

Yama slapped him again.

"'Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. . . .'"

"'And blessed are the peacemakers,'" said Yama, "'for they shall be called the children of God.' How do you fit into the picture. Black One? Whose child are you, to have wrought as you have done?"

Nirriti smiled and said, "'Blessed are they who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.'"

"You are mad," said Yama, "and I will not take your life for that reason. Give it away yourself, when you are ready, which should be soon."

He lifted Brahma then in his arms and began walking back toward the city.

"'Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you,'" said Nirriti, "'and persecute you, and say all manner of evil things against you falsely, for my sake. . . .'"

"Water?" asked Sam, unstoppering his canteen and raising Nirriti's head.

Nirriti looked at him, licked his lips, nodded slightly. He trickled the water into his mouth.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Sam."

"You?
You
rose again?"

"It doesn't count," said Sam. "I didn't do it the hard way."

Tears filled the Black One's eyes. "It means you'll win, though," he gasped. "I can't understand why He permitted it . . ."

"This is only one world, Renfrew. Who knows what goes on elsewhere? And that isn't really the fight I wanted to win, anyhow. You know that. I'm sorry for you, and I'm sorry about the whole thing. I agree with everything you said to Yama, and so do the followers of the one they called the Buddha. I don't recall any longer whether I was really that one, or whether it was another. But I am gone away from that one now. I shall return to being a man, and I shall let the people keep the Buddha who is in their hearts. Whatever the source, the message was pure, believe me. That is the only reason it took root and grew."

Renfrew swallowed another drink.

"'Even so every good tree bringeth forth good fruit,'" he said. "It was a will greater than mine that determined I die in the arms of the Buddha, that decided upon this Way for this world. . . . Give me your blessing, oh Gautama. I die now. . ."

Sam bowed his head.

"'The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north. It whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits. All the rivers run into the sea, yet the sea is not full. Unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again. The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be, and that which is done is that which shall be done. There is no remembrance of former things, neither shall there be any remembrance of things that are to come with those that shall come after. . . .'"

Then he covered the Black One with his cloak of white, for he had died.

Jan Olvegg was born in a litter into the town. Sam sent for Kubera and for Narada to meet him at the Hall of Karma, for it was apparent Olvegg would not be long alive in his present body.

When they entered the Hall, Kubera stumbled over the dead man who lay within the archway.

"Who . . . ?" he asked.

"A Master."

Three more wearers of the yellow wheel lay within the corridor that led to their transfer rooms. All of them bore arms.

They found another near the machinery. The thrust of a blade had caught him precisely in the center of his yellow circle, and he looked like a well-used target. His mouth was still opened for the scream he'd never screamed.

"Could the townsmen have done this?" asked Narada. "The Masters have grown more unpopular in recent years. Perhap they took advantage of the battle frenzy. . ."

"No," said Kubera, as he raised the stained sheet that covered the body upon the operating table, looked beneath it, lowered it. "No, it wasn't the townsmen."

"Who, then?"

He glanced back at the table.

"That's Brahma," he said.

"Oh."

"Someone must have told Yama he couldn't use the machinery to try a transfer."

"Then where's Yama?"

"I have no idea. But we'd better work fast if we're going to manage Olvegg."

"Yes. Move!"

The tall youth strode into the Palace of Kama and asked after Lord Kubera. He bore a long, gleaming spear across his shoulder, and he paced without pause as he waited.