To Rescue Tanelorn (8 page)

My herald sneered. “They became ingenuous in their defeat if they think they can take you with such a simple trick, my lord.”

“Be silent,” I ordered, my mind a battleground of conflicting thoughts and emotions. I took a deep breath.

“I accept, Prince Arjavh,” I said hollowly, and added: “Is the Lady Ermizhad therein?”

“She is, and looks forward to seeing you.” There was an edge on Arjavh’s voice as he answered this last question. He loved her, I knew, and perhaps was aware of my own affection for her. Aware of it though, at that time, I was not. It was that, of course, which contributed to my decision to enter Loos Ptokai.

The herald said in astonishment: “My lord, surely you cannot be serious. Once inside the gates you will be slain. There were stories, once, that you and Arjavh were not on unfriendly terms, for enemies, but after the havoc you have caused in Mernadin, he will kill you immediately.”

I shook my head in a new and quieter mood. “I think not,” I said, and all the ferocity, the hate, the mad battle-anger, seemed to swell out of me, leaving me, as I turned away from the herald so he should not see me, with tears in my eyes.

“Open your gates, Prince Arjavh,” I called in shaking tones which I could not control. “I come to Loos Ptokai as your guest.”

I rode my horse slowly into the city, having left my sword and lance behind me. The herald, in astonishment, was galloping back to our own camp to give the news to the marshals.

The streets of Loos Ptokai were silent, as if in mourning, as Arjavh came down the steps from the battlements to greet me. I saw, now that he was closer, that he, too, wore the expression which showed upon my own harsh face. His steps were not so lithe and his voice not quite so lilting as when we had first met a year before.

I dismounted. He gripped my hand.

“So,” he said in attempted gaiety, “the barbarian battlemonger is still material. My people had begun to doubt it.”

“I suppose they hate me,” I said.

He seemed a little surprised. “The Eldren cannot hate,” he said as he led me towards the palace wherein he had residence.

I was shown by Arjavh to a small room containing a bed, a table and a chair of wonderful workmanship. In one corner was a sunken bath, water already steaming in it. After he had left, I stripped off my blood-and dust-encrusted clothing and sank gratefully into the water.

After the initial emotional shock I had received when Arjavh had given his invitation, my mind was now numbed and, for the first time in a year, I relaxed, mentally and physically, washing all the grief and hatred from me as I washed my body.

I was almost cheerful as I donned the fresh clothes which had been laid out for me and, when someone knocked at my door, called lightly for them to enter.

“Hello, Erekosë.” Ermizhad stood there.

“My lady,” I returned, bowing slightly.

“How are you?”

“Better,” I said, “for your hospitality.”

“Arjavh sent me to take you to dinner.”

“I am ready. But first tell me how you have fared.”

“Well enough—in health,” said she. She came closer. “And tell me—are you wed now to Queen Iolinda?”

“We are still betrothed,” I told her, looking into her eyes. “We are to be married when…”

“When?”

“When Loos Ptokai is taken,” I said quickly and then stepped towards her so that we were separated by less than an inch. “Could not the Eldren admit defeat, Ermizhad. Could they not acknowledge mankind’s victory?”

“To what purpose—they say you swore to slay us all?”

“Forget that—let peace ensue between our peoples.”

She shook her head. “For all your bloody conquests, Erekosë, you still do not understand the people you serve. Your race will only be satisfied when every Eldren has perished.”

I knew the people I served. She was right.

“I could still try to convince them,” I said lamely.

“Thanks for that,” she said. “Come—the meal awaits.” She paused, frowning, then: “No—they’ll hold you to your vow.”

At dinner, Ermizhad and I sat close together and we all spoke gaily, the wit flowed and we succeeded in driving away the knowledge of the forthcoming battle. But as Ermizhad and I talked softly to one another, I caught a look of pain in Arjavh’s eyes and for a moment he was quiet. He broke through our conversation suddenly:

“You spoke earlier of peace, Erekosë. Is there any chance of arranging peace terms?”

“A conditional surrender on your part?” I asked.

“I suppose so.”

“I am in a difficult position, Arjavh, as you know. Technically I am the War Leader of Humanity and will have no power when the war is ended. The new queen, Iolinda, is the ruler of Humanity and only upon her decision can the war be ended by debate. There is also the consideration of the people and the warriors who have been so inflamed against the Eldren that even if the queen declared peace, they might force her to continue the war. Victory is certain, that you know, but, for my part, I should welcome peace.”

“That is what I thought,” he waved his hand tiredly, “there can be no peace.”

“I told Ermizhad that I would strive to convince the queen and the people that peace is desirable. I’ll return to Necranal and see what I can do to show her that you offer no threat to our race.”

“You trust us inordinately,” smiled Ermizhad. “We are known for our smooth-tongued cunning. We may be beguiling you.”

“If that is the case,” I said, “the results will not be on my conscience. And the gods know I have enough already.”

“We are reputed to be soulless, Erekosë—bereft, in fact, of consciences.”

I shrugged.

There was still the chance that the Eldren were fooling me into suing for peace on their part, but now that the battle-madness was gone from me, now that Iolinda was so far away that what she felt seemed no longer important, I had become tired of conflict and wanted only peace. I did not want to complete my vow and exterminate the Eldren. How could I?

I would try what I could to bring peace to the wasted land of Mernadin. If the Eldren abused my attempts, I did not know what I should do. I did not think they would.

I spent more than a day with Arjavh and Ermizhad until eventually our herald, accompanied by several marshals, presented himself again outside the gates of Loos Ptokai.

“We fear that you have been guilty of treachery!” called the herald. “Let us see our master—or his body. Then we shall know what to do.”

Arjavh and I mounted the steps to the battlements and I saw relief in the eyes of the herald and marshals as they noted I was unharmed.

“I have been talking with Prince Arjavh,” I said, “in an attempt to discuss peace terms. I’ll join you within the hour.”

“Peace terms, Lord Erekosë!
Peace!
”

“Yes,” I said, “peace. Now go back. Tell the warriors that I am safe.”

“We can take this city, Lord Erekosë,” Count Roldero spoke, “there is no need to talk of peace. We can destroy the Eldren once and for all. Have you succumbed to their cursed enchantments—have they beguiled you with their smooth words?”

“No,” I said, “it was I who suggested it.”

Roldero swung his horse round in disgust.

“Peace!” he spat as he and his comrades headed back to the camp. “Our master’s gone mad.”

“Difficulties already,” said Arjavh to me.

“They fear me,” I told him, “and they’ll obey me—for a while at least.”

“Let us hope so,” he said.

This time there were no cheering crowds in Necranal to welcome me, for news of my mission had gone ahead of me. The people disapproved.

Her new power had given Iolinda a haughty look as she strode about the throne room, awaiting me.

“Well, Erekosë,” she said, “I know why you are here—why you have forsaken your troops, gone against your word to destroy the Eldren.”

“Iolinda,” I said urgently. “I am convinced that the Eldren are weary of war—that they never intended to threaten the Two Continents in the first place. They want only peace.”

“Peace we shall have—when the Eldren race has perished,” she cried.

“Iolinda, if you love me, you will listen to me, at least.”

“If I love
you.
And what of the Lord Erekosë—does he still love his queen?”

I was taken aback. I gaped. I could think of nothing to say—nothing but one word, for then I realized that the reason for my bitterness through the year had not been her lack of response to my love—but my lack of response to hers. That word, of course, was ‘No’. But I did not utter it.

“Oh, Erekosë,” her tone softened. “Can it be true?” There were tears in her eyes.

“No,” I said thickly. “I—I still love you, Iolinda. We are to be married…” But she knew. However, if peace was to be the result, then I was prepared to marry her in spite of anything I personally felt.

“I still want to marry you, Iolinda,” I said.

“No,” she sighed. “No you don’t.”

“I will,” I said. “I will. If peace with the Eldren comes about…”

Again her wide eyes blazed. “Not on those terms, Erekosë. Never. You are guilty of High Treason against us. The people already speak of you as a traitor.”

“But I conquered all of Mernadin for them—all but Loos Ptokai.”

“All but Loos Ptokai—where your wanton Eldren bitch awaits you.”

“Iolinda—you are unfair.”

She was unfair—but, to some degree, she spoke from knowledge of my true position.

“And you are a traitor! Guards!” she called and, as if they had already been told what to do, a dozen of the Imperial Guards rushed in, led by their captain, Katorn. There was a hint of triumph in his eyes and then, at once, I knew why we had never liked one another—he desired Iolinda!

It was an instinctive knowledge—but I knew then that whether I drew my sword or not he would slay me.

I drew my sword.

“Take him, Katorn!” cried Iolinda. “Take him—alive or dead, he is a traitor to his kind!”

“It’s untrue,” I said, as Katorn advanced cautiously, his men spreading out behind him. I backed to a wall, near a window. The throne room was on the first storey of the palace. Outside were the private gardens of the queen. “Think, Iolinda—retract your command. You are driven by jealousy. I’m no traitor.”

“
Slay him, Katorn!
”

But I slew Katorn. As he came rushing at me, my sword flicked across his face. He screamed, staggered, his hands rushed up to his head and then he toppled in his golden armour, toppled and fell with a crash to the ground.

The other guards came on, but more warily. I fought off their blades, slew a couple, drove the others back, glimpsed Iolinda watching me, leapt to the sill of the window.

“Goodbye, Queen. You have lost your champion now.” I jumped.

I landed in a rose-bush that ripped at my skin, broke free and ran hastily towards the gate of the garden, the guards behind me.

I tore the gate open and found myself in a deserted alley. I ran down the twisting streets of Necranal with the guards in pursuit, their ranks joined by a howling pack of the townspeople who had no idea why I was wanted. They chased me for the sheer animal pleasure of the hunt.

I ran blindly at first, and then towards the river. My crew, I hoped, still retained their loyalty to me. If they did there was a faint chance of escape. I gained the ship just before my pursuers. I leapt aboard screaming:

“Prepare to sail!”

Only half the crew was aboard, the others were on shore leave, but these hurriedly shipped out the oars while we held the guards and the citizens at bay. We shoved off and began a hasty flight down the Droonaa River.

It was some time before they managed to commandeer a ship for pursuit and by that time we were safely outdistancing them. My crew asked no questions. They were used to my silences, my actions which sometimes seemed peculiar but, a week after we were on course over the sea, bound for Mernadin, I told them briefly that I was now an outlaw.

“Why, Lord Erekosë?” asked my captain.

“The queen’s malice,” I said, “and, I suspect, Katorn of the Imperial Guard spoke against me, turning her to hate me.”

They were satisfied with the explanation and, when we put in at a small cove near the Plains of Melting Ice, I bade them farewell, mounted my horse and rode swiftly for Loos Ptokai, knowing not what I should do when I got there, only that I must let Arjavh know the turn events had taken.

Two months passed, two ominous months in Loos Ptokai, while we wondered what Iolinda would do. Having no leader, the armies of mankind remained surrounding the city but not attacking it. The inaction was oppressive in itself. I became irritable at times, but there were days of happiness with Ermizhad. We openly acknowledged our love now.

I queried Arjavh about the terrible weapons of which he had spoken while I was his prisoner.

“Use them this once, Arjavh,” I told him. “Make a show of strength, that is all. They will be ready to discuss peace, then.”

“No,” he refused. “No. I do not think even this emergency merits such an action.”

“Arjavh,” I said, “I respect the reason you have for refusing to use the weapons, but I have grown to love the Eldren. I love them more, evidently, than they love themselves. My own race would suffer from your weapons. If the time comes when I feel we could use them, will you let me decide—take the decision away from you?”

“Perhaps,” he said.

“Arjavh—will you?”

“We Eldren have never been motivated by self-interest to the extent of destroying another race, Erekosë. Do not confuse our values with those of mankind.”

“I am not,” I replied. “That is my reason for asking you this. I could not bear to see such a noble race perish at the hands of one which is, in taking this action against you,
ignoble
!”

“Iolinda spoke the truth,” he said quietly. “You are a traitor to your race.”

“I seek only to stop them from continuing in their folly.”

He pursed his lips.

“For the love I have for Ermizhad and the love she has for me. For you and all the Eldren left alive, I ask you to let me take the decision if it becomes necessary.”