The Sword Bearer (17 page)

"And it is his bidding to bring the Regents," Qhahdrun spat "And when the Regents come, you will die."

"When the Regents come
and when the Sword Bearer has killed the Goblin Prince,
then I will die."

John felt Qhahdrun's eyes burning through his skin. "The Sword Bearer cannot use the sword. He is no servant of the Changer. He will come to us and you will not be able to stop him. And you will die. The Changer will discard you whether the Regents come or not and whether the Goblin Prince lives or dies. Only as a sorcerer can you live on. Look at me, Mab! Do I age? Does death creep through my members? I am immortal, Mab! Bow to me! You alone have defied me! I will give you power
for yourself alone!
Bow to me and live! Look at my followers! Do they look as if they are dying?"

John gasped with fear. For the dell was suddenly crowded with men and women robed in deathly white, crying, "Come to us, Mab! Join our ranks! We are free! We have our own power! It belongs to us! We know the deep secrets of power!"

But Mab straightened his shoulders and raised his staff high. "It is enough!" he cried. "It is the last time! Never will I do as you say! Avaunt! Avaunt! In the name of the Changer, avaunt!"

Terrible blue light blotted out the whole scene for several seconds. Then as the light faded, they were once again alone. With a sigh Mab picked his way across thfcv e steppingstones and scrambled up the far side of the dell. John followed him. In less than a minute they had resumed their way along the path through the forested mountainside.

For a long time neither of them spoke. But at last John could bear it no longer. "Who were they?" he asked.

"Sorcerers, wizards, magicians—call them what you will,"

Mab replied. "They were brought here from other worlds by the Changer when this world first began. But they chose to serve themselves. You heard what .Qhahdrun said. They want their own power. They want magic. And the Changer will have no truck with magic."

"But you do magic!" John said, bewildered.

"No, Sword Bearer. It is true that I have power from the Changer. So have Aguila and Oso. But the power is his power, not ours. It is to be used in his service. Magic is stolen power. The power that Qhahdrun has is magical power. It was stolen by the Mystery of Abomination when he rebelled against the Changer. Qhahdrun really thinks it belongs to him. But one day it will be taken from him. For at the last all power will go back to the Changer from whence it first came."

There was silence, and for a while they walked without speak-ing. "The Qadar," Mab said at length. "Qhahdrun rules them. I suppose they will be on our trail sooner or later." But John was not listening. Darkness began to fall and Mab increased his pace, anxious to reach the company ahead of them. John was thinking of Mab's death and wondering how to talk about it. But it seemed that Mab might have been able to read his thoughts.

"Yes, I will die," he said. "After all, everyone dies in the end. And I have lived long, very long. But if I'm honest I do not wish to die. I wish to see him fulfill his promise of a son to me first.

"I serve the Changer, yet he rewards me with death, and though his plans will be fulfilled, the longings of my own heart will not I shall die without seeing what I had hoped and longed to see."

"What—er—what is it you want to see?" John asked, only half listening to the old man. But Mab only sighed. "He could take the longing away. That way too I could die content," he said. "Yet year by year my longing increases. And all he promises me is death."

In some ways their journey down the Rure Valley was easier than the first part of their journey, and in other ways it was much more difficult It was easier because they were now going downhill. It was more difficult because day by day the nights grew longer and the period of daylight shorter. Soon the company found that they rose by the light of a full moon, traveled into brief daylight and made camp long after the sun had set, again under a full moon.

But three nights after Mab's encounter with Qhahdrun, a change came over the moon. They had left the eucalyptuses behind and were pitching camp in an open space above the river, surrounded by tall pines. King Bjorn was the first to notice it
.

"Look!" he cried. "An eclipse of the moon is beginning!"

Work on pitching camp ceased. John lay on his back to avoid the crick in his neck as he watched a curved shadow steal slowly across the silver face. In an hour or so the moon was covered. All that remained was a dead moon, faindy glowing a dull copper shade.

"The shadow will pass after a while," King Bjorn said. "I saw it happen in my youth." But the shadow did not pass. The eclipse remained fixed. The stars shone a little more brightly, and Mab repeated his strange prophecy.

That night their sleep was troubled, and they woke frequently, hot and feverish. When they rose, the darkness was deeper and the camp was filled with drifting smoke that bore an odor of death. John drank greedily from a stone jar of water, his eyes smarting from the smoke. "I'm hot!" he said. "What's happened?" But Mab only shook his head.

It was too dark to proceed with their journey, for the eclipsed moon and the stars were now blotted out by smoke. Anxiously they waited for the three hours of daylight

But the daylight never came. Instead, a terrifying orb, bearing the face of the Lord Lunacy, burst into the sky and shone for three hours, peering down at them through the dirty yellow haze.

The ground was warm and here and there cracks appeared, exuding blue-black bitumen. At first they were alarmed, but at least the bitumen provided them with a means of making torches. They spent the day preparing these with rushes from the river, anticipating that most of their journey now would have to be in darkness. Mab pursed his lips and talked constantly about forest fires.

The foul stench not only made their eyes smart but sickened them so that for the first day they ate nothing. They had no idea where the stench came from, though they noticed that the river water had become warm, and that multitudes of dead fish floated on their sides to feed growing numbers of vultures and crows. They now boiled all their water. But it still tasted foul. "The smell in the air doesn't smell like
fish,"
John said to Mab. "It's more like the smell of the swamp."

The following day there were only two hours of light from the strange orb, the next day only one. Thereafter they journeyed through darkness, a lurid company with flickering torches, weaving single file through wreaths of smoke among tall pines. They watched the ground carefully. Cracks would open up, disgorging boiling bitumen. One of the horses plunged its forelegs into the stuff and screamed with pain. They had to kill it.

Every night, or rather every suppertime, for it was night the whole time now, Aguila and her eagles came with the same table and freshly prepared food and drink for the weary company. Without the nightly feast it is doubtful whether they could have continued. The faces of the Matmon were pale and gaunt, and their movements heavy with weariness.

Yet as they ate at the long table their strength would revive, and as many of them drank of the wine of free pardon, the only wine most now drank light would shine from their eyes again, and smiles paint their faces. Soon the songs would begin again, and after a while the rhythm would get into their arms and legs, and they would be upon the table, dancing.

One night as firefly music refreshed their ears and firefly light scattered gentle beauty over them, Mab stiffened.

"What is it?" King Bjorn asked. Bjornsluv and Vixenia also stared at him.

"Hsst!" the prophet said.

John listened carefully. Then far above them and strangely discordant with the firefly music, he heard it Faint as the screech was, it chilled him. It came again. And again.

"Qadar!" Mab muttered darkly. "Qhahdrun rules them. Doubdess he now plans to use them to destroy the company. They fly the night skies. I would have thought that with all this smoke they could never see us. But they are looking."

Bjorn's face paled and John could see that his hands were trembling. "Qadar!" he breathed softly, "O Mi-ka-ya. What have we brought on ourselves?"

"What danger is there right now?" Queen Bjornsluv asked.

"Very little," the old man answered. "Their eyes cannot penetrate either the branches or the leaves of trees. Moreover the canopy of fireflies affords us protection. They can see neither them nor us. But I fear that when we journey on by torchlight they will see light and come upon us. We can no longer travel in safety."

"No longer?"
Vixenia's voice was contemptuous. "What safety have we enjoyed so far?"

"What are Qadar?" John asked.

"Scourers of the night skies," Mab replied grimly. "Swifter than thought and deadly in rage. Nothing can stand against them. Earth creatures tremble when they fly."

Their faces were grave that night and their thoughts troubled. But after much discussion it was decided that their only option was to proceed with caution. The pine trees would provide good cover. They would use only one torch which King Bjorn's torchbearer would carry at the head of the column. They would proceed slowly and in single file, keeping close rank and cautioning one another as they came to any bitumi-nous cracks. Anytime they heard a Qadar the torch would in-standy be put out.

Their progress was slow but for two days their plan worked well. No one fell into the cracks and they lost no more horses. Only once did they hear the distant shrieking of a Qadar, and on hearing it they extinguished the torch and sheltered beneath the pine trees. Within an hour they had resumed their way again, moving cautiously but continuously toward their goal.

But on the following day the whole company was nearly wiped out. They came across a lake of boiling pitch, about a hundred yards in diameter. Acrid fumes rose from it, threatening to choke them. Yet their path clung to the borders of the lake. The thickets were so dense that they could not push through them to give the pitch lake a wide berth. Coughing and spluttering they stumbled hurriedly around it, their faces and legs burning with the heat of the pitch.

On the far side of the lake there was a clearing, and the torch bearer waited until they had all gathered away from the edge of the lake and had been accounted for. In their preoccupation with what they were doing they failed to hear the telltale shrieks until it was too late, until in fact a piercing and terrifying screech awoke them to their peril. Hovering over the lake of boiling bitumen was the shadowy figure of a Qadar.

In spite of the heat John shivered with terror. Vaguely he was conscious that the rest of the company were as still as painted shadows. The torch bearer stood transfixed, his torch sputtering and flickering, but still held high. Yet the light revealed little of the Qadar beyond an ominous silhouette shrouded in the vapors that rose from the boiling lake. To John it seemed as though a tall figure stood upright on the back of what might have been a gigantic bat. The only clear features were the burning red eyes of the rider that seemed to penetrate his soul. Two more screeches pierced the darkness, and two more terrible shadows hovered behind the first Six red eyes now stared at John.

His right hand was inside his tunic and he felt the stone resting in the pocket Hardly knowing why he did so, he slipped it over his head, and as he did so it seemed as if his head cleared. "Put out the torch!" he cried.

The torch bearer did not move.

"The torch!" John screamed. "Put it out!"

It was as though his body had come alive. In an instant he was beside the torch bearer and snatched the torch from his hand. The Qadar were beginning to glide slowly toward them from the lake. John ran to the edge of the pitch and, with all his strength, flung the torch toward the red eyes.

Instandy the lake exploded. With a terrifying roar the vapors above it caught fire, rushed up in a column of flame a hundred feet high. John was hurtled head over heels backward. The members of the company were flung to the ground by the explosion and scorched by searing heat. Insdncdvely they crawled in terror into the woods beyond, sheltering behind pine trees and staring from a safe distance at the blazing light that illuminated the forest, wondering all the while what had happened to the Qadar.

They never found out, Mab thought they must have perished in the explosion. Otherwise, he argued, the Qadar would have continued to search for them. "Qadar never leave a quarry until the quarry is dead," he said emphatically. "Therefore they must be dead themselves."

Slowly King Bjorn and Mab mustered the frightened company.

There was no need for torches now, for the column of fire lit the region for acres around. By some miracle no one had been seriously injured. Generally hair and many beards had been scorched and skins superficially burned; even John suffered only bruises. And in the darkness no one had observed the effects of the stone, which John had removed again during the general confusion.