organs. I have even seen some of the greater fighters miss their target and still cause fatalities, such was their talent.’
Samuel nodded. ‘You see? There is much you can teach me. Do you ever fight with swords? It seems a strange choice to fight against an armed opponent with only your hands.’
‘I can fight with weapons, but I find the human body to be the most versatile of weapons. A man who can only fight with a sword or spear is useless if disarmed. There is a time and a place for such things. I find too much value is placed on such weapons, even in my own country, when more merit should be bestowed upon the empty hand, which can ultimately prove the stronger. The greatest fighter uses all his skills, not just the ability to punch or jab a stick. Misdirection, confusion, sleight-of-hand-all have roles to play in every battle,not just in our words and actions, but in our movements and where we are looking. The angle of our toes and the shifting of our weight give opponents assumptions, that they do not even realise they are making, about our intentions. The true fighter uses these against the opponents, clouding their ability to think and react, filling their mind with conflicting information and subterfuge. Every attack must be a defence, each defence an attack. You step away to lead an opponent towards you, but escape is not the intention; it is to have them stepping forward where you can trap them. Human nature is one of the best weapons we have. Learn to know and judge others, better than they know themselves, and they can be defeated in an instant, before they have even raised their sword. What follows from that point is merely acting out the motions. Finally, a sword in your hand shouts out your intentions, while an empty hand can be mask any manner of deceit. I could go on all day.’
‘So was all this what you were trying to teach me with the pebble?’
‘Something like that,’ Horse admitted.
Samuel mulled over the thought. ‘Then what would you do if you came against a fighter equal to your own ability, butwho alsohad a weapon?’
‘If all the circumstances leading up to that point were equal, and the sword was of sufficient quality, I would probably die.’
‘Would you give up so easily?’
‘I did not say I would give up, or even that I would lose, Magician. There are many ways to die and still achieve victory.’
Samuel again took time to digest the words. ‘There is much more to fighting than I had assumed.’
There was a creak from the stairs and Horse’s eyes flickered towards them for the briefest moment.
‘There is. Now, I must go,’ he said and started away.
Samuel looked, but could see no one there. He sensed, however, the fading energies of Canyon as the man tiptoed down the stairs. It was perhaps wise that no one had informed the Koians that the magicians could feel their presence. It would be prudent, Samuel reminded himself, that they should keep as many of their secrets as they could away from the man. As Horse had suggested, secrets could be powerful weapons.
When morning came, Daneel announced that he would not be continuing on the journey with them.
‘Your path leads into the deserts and the sand,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I would enjoy such waterless places.’
‘But we are going to save the Empress,’ Eric said. ‘Won’t you help us with that?’
Daneel laughed. ‘I’m not fond of the Empire. I’m sure the Empress is a lovely sort, but I have other plans afoot. I have things to do here and I will eventually need to make my way back home. I am sure you will still beabsorbedin your adventure by then, but I will not be with you. The rest of the way is simple, and you have a week or more before this valley becomes cut off by the snow. The lowlands will be simple to find, if you simply follow the path for another few days. From there, it will not be hard to make your way to Kalid.’
And he wished them good luck and sent them on their way. Balten knew some of the territory on this side of the mountains and,once they found their way to the town of Kalid, he would be able to gain his bearings. The eight of them began on their way upon a string of sturdy ponies, with the Koian god-woman clutching desperately behind Ambassador Canyon. The mountains had not defeated them and their future challenges lay ahead.
Oh,the misery. Here I am, raised to godhood and possessing power I once could never have fathomed; able to reach across time and space with my will, yet chained and burdened more than ever-more than even most mortals. While once I could run across fields and feel the cool breeze on my brow, I am now a common conscript in an unending war and an abominable father who consumes his own young.
My own mortal father, who died so long ago thatthemeasure of years has little meaning, once told me that the end justifies the means. I have seen such terrible means that set me to weep, and the promised end is always one step ahead of me, so I find that axiom has longsinceworn thin. The unbearable alternative, however, is defeat. If I were to give up, or lay down my burden for just a heartbeat, my world would be set upon and devoured by beings much more callous and desperate than I, so I must continue my unholy duty and ready myself to go to war again.
I have long grown tired of this struggle and,as I return weary from the eternal battlefield, my thoughts once again return to simpler days, when I was young, foolish and unfettered. I made many,
I weep each time my feet touch upon the soil of my world and I feel the beautiful earth beneath my toes. It should be a time of joy, but I cannot put the unbearable cost of my task from my mind and so I set to work like a man possessed. Each scream and plea for mercy is torture to my soul, but I cannot allow myself to be swayed. Each corpse set at my feet is like a skewer through my heart, but I cannot risk even a moment of compassion. One by one, each soul freed from its vessel will add to my strength,empowering me and fuelling me with vigour to go on. Only when I am sated from the flesh and life of my people can I return to the war with any hope of persevering.
Countless souls will be wiped from the earth and thrown into my jaws, but the few that survive may live on. There is suffering, I know, but the alternative is annihilation. Even this eternal cycle of life and death is better than an infinite emptiness. Whilst we exist, there is hope. I have longagolost the will to go on with all this-yet I must.
I accepted this burden willingly, but without any measure of what it would require. I only hope that when I am done, someone-anyone-can find the compassion to forgive me. Sometimes, my own grief is overwhelming and I will my existence to come to an end, but even the luxury of death isfarbehind me. A god cannot die so simply.
It has been a long time since I was a man and I now find it difficult to understand the workings of the creatures I once walked amongst and loved; yet tirelessly I forge on. Only in lucid moments such as these can I think as I once did and remember that I, too, was once human. Time passes altogether differently in this existence and sometimes the Ages seem to pass like sorrow-laden heartbeats.
I can feel the time is coming again. The eternal war goes on, but would soon falter without me and so I trust my vessel will be ready soon. I pray again that this time will be the last and that my servants will have done their duty, so I will not have so much bitter work to attend to myself. Yes, I can feel the gateway being readied,so I must stand ready to make my harvest.
I did not think being a god would be quite like this. I sometimes wonder what my people must think of me.
