Then had come the great discovery.
They had left one of the worlds beyond and, seemingly accidentally, entered the dream of one of the Bethlarii Handiran. It was a dream full of images of perpetual, ritualized warfare, of dying and being reborn to fight again. And over all hovered the image of some tedious deity, Ar-Hyrdyn. The blind man took little or no interest in dreams and, himself indifferent, Ivaroth had been about to withdraw from it when the blind man's Dreamself had touched him with repellent glee.
And he had changed the dream! Twisted it somehow to his own fancy, and sent the dreamer hurtling towards a screaming wakefulness.
The blind man could use his power to change dreams!
Even now, Ivaroth still felt the emotion of that realization. To the blind man the torment of the Bethlarii had been no more than a passing and gratuitous spite; the slow, pointless crushing of a harmless insect. To Ivaroth, the manner in which it was done and the person to whom it was done, revealed his road to the south and the fulfilment of his wildest ambitions.
And their bargain had been made anew. Ivaroth promised that he would carry the blind man further into the other worlds in search of this ‘other place', while the blind man would bend and shape the dreams of the Bethlarii leaders to Ivaroth's will.
It was work that the blind man grew to relish, for the Bethlarii were a people who worshipped pain and suffering and their minds were a rich storehouse for his cruel humour. Soon, one man actually died from sheer terror as a result of his handiwork. Ivaroth noted the incident well, and, as he learned more about the Bethlarii, used it on several carefully arranged occasions to remove opposition from their hierarchy and also to consolidate the power of those he could best manipulate by giving them the sight to prophesy such deaths.
So it had gone for many months. Ivaroth ruthlessly forging his federation and the blind man gleefully tormenting the Bethlarii through their dreams to prepare the way for Ivaroth's coming. On occasions they took some of the Bethlarii into one of the worlds beyond where the blind man's power could weave a magic quite different in its conviction from that within the dreams.
But now, a strange opposition had arisen. First, the strange old man who appeared from nowhere in one of the worlds, to challenge them and then flee from world to world, through the doorways that Ivaroth thought only he could find.
The lamp flame spluttered momentarily as the memory returned to him. His black eyes narrowed uncertainly. He and the blind man had nearly been killed in that battle the old man had led them to.
And then he had led them to the other one. The one who had arisen to protect him like some avenging demon. It had looked like a man, but it had walked towards Ivaroth's sword and into the blind man's insane storm apparently unafraid, calling and challenging them …
Ivaroth turned away from the memory of the savage rending power that had suddenly surged out of the howling darkness, like some great predatory animal. Terrible eyes … teeth …
And the blind man had stood there, his blank eyes gleaming with lust, and his arms extended as if to embrace the terror. Only by main force had Ivaroth torn them both back to this world.
Had it all been a trap? he thought. And if so, by whom? He did not dwell on the idea. He remembered only the blind man's wild clamouring as they had crashed into the consciousness of this world.
'He can take me there. He can take me there,’ he kept saying, alternately fawning and raging, one moment grovelling at Ivaroth's feet, the next wildly seizing and pummelling him. Used to physical combat, and himself full of battle anger following the unexpected and terrifying assault in the world beyond, Ivaroth was unaffected by the blind man's futile attacks and after a little while he ended the matter with a savage blow to the jaw.
Crouching down by the crumpled form, he was sorely tempted, for a moment, to end the cloying mutual reliance that bound them together, by crushing him underfoot. But calmer counsels prevailed and he waited for the blind man to stir.
When he did, Ivaroth held a knife against his throat.
'The worlds beyond are dangerous, old man,’ he said. ‘When we are there, you obey me absolutely, or I shall abandon you there and return to slay your form here. Do you understand?'
'He can take me there…’ The litany began again, but stopped abruptly as Ivaroth's knife pressed harder.
He clutched at Ivaroth's sleeve and Ivaroth felt a spasm of pain forming inside him. His eyes widened in fury and seizing the blind man's wild matted hair he yanked his head back violently forcing the knife up under his chin.
'No more,’ Ivaroth said through clenched teeth. ‘Or I'll drive this blade through your brain before you can blink.'
The blind man became rigid, and the pain faded, but Ivaroth did not release him. Instead he drew his face closer. ‘That apparition you're blubbering after wanted only our deaths. You can't be so blind that you didn't see that. I don't know who or what it was, or why it came for us. I've never met the like of it before. Perhaps it's always been there, perhaps your power drew it there … I don't know. But I've no intention of returning to the worlds beyond for some time, so school yourself to that. We continue with the conquest of the south first. Then and then only, will I take you back to seek your “other place'. Do you understand me?'
The blind man had seemingly accepted this ultimatum and since then had fawned about Ivaroth more than ever, like some child seeking favour. But Ivaroth had made and slain too many enemies and allies in his time not to understand what was happening.
Just as in the blind man's ability to change dreams, Ivaroth had seen his ambitions unfold before him, so, in that demon that had attacked them, the blind man had seen the spirit that could take him to this elusive ‘other place’ that he was eternally fretting for. Nothing now would quench his desire.
And, Ivaroth realized starkly as the flame in front of him finally flickered out, he would indeed fulfil his promise and one day carry the blind man into the worlds beyond again, to seek this ‘other place', because he would need the blind man not only to conquer the south but to rule it, and to maintain his rule over the tribes.
The blind man was power, and power must be a close-watched ally not a captive, or it would bloom in secret and then turn on its captor.
Their mutual needs and desires bound Ivaroth and the blind man more completely than any lovers, and, in the end, only death would separate them.
That night Ivaroth led the blind man into Amhir's dreams. The shaman's screams could be heard around the camp, but he could not be wakened.
In the end, he died.
None could look on his face.
Chapter 28
Ryllans seized Arwain to stop him falling from the saddle, at the same time searching through the milling crowd to see who had thrown the rock and whether more were likely to follow.
The rest of the platoon closed in around him rapidly, while the Whendreachi guards, drawing short staves, charged into the noisiest group of youths, scattering them briefly.
Like skirmishers, however, the youths merely dodged and weaved between the horses and the flailing weapons, and whenever opportunity presented itself, stood their ground to throw more stones and other missiles at the platoon and its escort.
It took Ryllans little time to realize that they were in considerable danger. Except for himself and Arwain, the platoon was unarmed, which effectively left them only with their horses as weapons. But the street was crowded not only with attacking youths but also many other people who were obviously innocent of any ill intent; indeed some had already been injured by the indiscriminately thrown stones. If he led the platoon out at the charge, many people would be badly hurt and, in any event, he was not sufficiently familiar with the city to know which would be the best way to flee.
A screaming woman, with blood running down her face, bumped into his horse to emphasize his dilemma.
