we fear their power.”
In a low voice that Menish could hardly hear Azkun replied.
“You do not have to fear them. It is only the corruption within you that fears them.”
“What do you mean?” Althak’s tone was suddenly guarded. It was a tone he often used at the court of Menish when he was taken to task for his Vorthenki ways. Some would try to ridicule him, others would accuse him of crimes relating to the barbarity of the Vorthenki rites. There were those who were genuinely offended by Vorthenki and there were others who wrongly thought this was a stepping stone to Menish’s favour.
“Do not be offended, but consider. If the dragons created the world how could they be anything but joy to us?”
“How indeed? Yet they are powerful. I wouldn't like to meet an angry dragon.”
“You misunderstand. There is a barrier between yourself and the dragons, like the Lansheral, a wall. The dragons did not place it there, I do not know where it came from, I cannot believe it was there in the beginning. But it is there now.”
“A wall? I've seen no wall. Where is it?”
Menish could not tell if Althak was baiting Azkun or if he was genuinely puzzled. There was humour in his voice, though. His guarded tone had faded away.
“It is not a wall of stone, nor of earth. It is corruption.”
“Corruption? A wall? Now you confuse me utterly.”
“Corruption. I first knew it in the Chasm, though I did not know it for what it was. But when the dragon bathed me in its flame the corruption was melted from me and I was born into the upper world. I thought there was no corruption here. Yesterday I discovered that I was wrong.” Azkun seemed to grope for words, and Menish noticed his former intensity returning. “It manifests itself in all foul things, in all violence, in all fear. Yesterday the river tried to kill me, the mountains were silent and cruel.” He hesitated. “And you killed the pig.”
“A man will die if he doesn't eat.”
“I will not.”
“But, Azkun, I will. I can't stand in dragon fire and live, nor can I go hungry and live. If you're different then don't accuse us of corruption because we must eat.”
Azkun fell silent and their conversation stopped. Menish felt, at last, that he understood how Azkun thought. That Azkun was deluded was obvious, but Menish began to follow his deluded reasoning.
Gilish would not, of course, have spoken so. Menish had always heard that Gilish had regarded dragons as enemies. He had never fought them. It had not come to that. The dragons had occupied the peninsula of Kishir and Gilish had wanted Kishir in his empire. But perhaps Gilish was entitled to change his mind. It was all so long ago.
The rain eased in the afternoon, fitful showers passed over from time to time but they were able to throw back their hoods and dry out somewhat. Menish was grateful for the warmth of the horse. He was sure his leg would have been the worse without that comfort.
With the easing of the rain came the wind. They were sheltered from it in the forest, though its icy fingers sometimes stole through the trees. When the road passed across an exposed cliff face or ridge they felt its full blast. The wind blew from the snows of the mountains above them and brought their cold with it. Menish clutched his cloak tightly around him and hoped they would reach Lianar by evening.
They had been travelling through steep country for some time now. The road led across cliff faces where it had been hacked out of the rock and wound around the contours of the mountains. Far below Menish could hear a river thrashing its way through the gorge and, above, the cliffs rose sheer. When he leaned over the edge of the road he saw that they were a dizzy height above the river. It was a tiny white streak in the gloom below.
Their way was constantly made difficult now by the rocks and rubble that had fallen across the road. They had to dismount and lead the horses a number of times, and progress was slow, and especially hard for Azkun.
After a particularly treacherous stretch where the road narrowed to a thin track just wide enough to pass and rocks turned beneath their feet as they walked, they found themselves standing before a bridge.
It was no ordinary bridge. Menish had seen many works of Gilish in his life, but he had not expected such a thing to emerge out of the northern wilds. It leapt the gorge in a single, graceful span. Menish looked, as he had done with so many of Gilish’s works, and wondered at it. It was an impossibility. Such a thing could never have been built. Yet, here it was.
“Blaze of Aton!” cried Drinagish. “What is this?”
“It's the Bridge of Sheagil, made by Gilish himself to reach her,” said Hrangil.
“Must we cross this?” asked Althak. “It looks old-”
Hrangil snorted contempt, as if Gilish and anything he did would last forever. But he also looked at Azkun, perhaps hoping that he would recognise this marvel.
Azkun was clearly impressed by the bridge. He hobbled over to the very edge of the gorge to look at it. He knelt there and touched the grey stone, as if in greeting. His palm caressed it almost tenderly with his one free hand. He smiled.
Hrangil, who was leading the company, hesitated, obviously wanting to see what Azkun would do. Presently Azkun rose and turned to them. It started to rain again and the wind buffeted him on the edge of the precipice.
“A bridge!” he cried above the wind. “A bridge across the river, across the chasm! This,” he turned and flung out his arms as if to encompass the structure. “This is the answer to corruption!” Joy lit his eyes as if he were giving them a gift he knew they had yearned for.
Menish wished he could contain his madness for times when the rain was not blowing in their faces. He did not want to delve into the strange passages of Azkun’s mind just now. All he wanted was for them to remount their horses and continue their journey.
“Then let us cross the bridge,” he called back through the rain.
That delighted Azkun. Althak helped him back onto his horse and Menish nodded to Hrangil to start forward. Althak was suddenly beside Menish.
“M’Lord, this bridge is old. Will it bear us all? Perhaps we should not all cross at once.” Menish nodded, though to him the bridge seemed safe enough. Hrangil had already started when he called:
“One at a time, wait until Hrangil has crossed.”
So, one by one, they crossed the bridge. Althak followed Hrangil and then came Azkun, utterly delighted with the bridge and forgetting his pains, and then Menish himself. The bridge was wide enough for two riders to cross abreast and had chest high ramparts on either side, but even so the vast drop beneath the stone was perilously accessible. His horse shied once before it set foot on the bridge but it gave Menish no further trouble. At the centre of the span the wind was so strong that Menish dismounted and walked the rest of the way. Sitting high up on a horse did not give him any confidence against that dreadful fall.
Grath, Bolythak and finally Drinagish crossed, all leading their horses from the beginning. Drinagish looked quite discomforted by the crossing. When they finally assembled on the other side Hrangil looked at Menish reproachfully.
“You did not trust the bridge of Gilish.”
“It was wise to be cautious.”
But the barriers between Menish and his old friend were flung up again. Hrangil turned his horse and led them off in silence.
Once more they had to pick their way along the old road as it wound across the cliffs. The slope was generally downwards now, where it had been roughly level before. They were slowly working their way towards the bottom of a gorge. Still the wind blew and the rain slapped at their faces. Menish resolved many times that he would not make such a journey again. Adhara had said he should not, he was too old for such things. But she had not been plagued by evil dreams. And those dreams still left him troubled him somewhat. The nagging feeling that he had been summoned by them to meet Azkun was still there. What god would make such a summons? Aton? Or perhaps Gilish himself? But Thalissa had not climbed from the Chasm, and Azkun was plainly mad. What kind of summons was that? At least he could sleep again, and for that he was grateful.
When they left the gorge they found themselves travelling through forest again. Menish checked the direction of the pale smudge in the clouds that marked the sun’s position. It was late. He was about to ask Hrangil if they
