deserted castle spoke of a hero who had stolen away his men, inflaming their hearts with rhetoric which promised power, glory, women and wealth. In Chorst, the hero had recruited all the able men in Guntagona.
Nearing Runcorn, the travellers heard that the city had surrendered to a rag-tag army led by the reaver from the west, the Rovac warrior Elkor Alish. Closer to Runcorn, they came upon a battlefield littered with the stonemade bodies of men and horses: Elkor Alish had used the death-stone, doubtless sheltering his own men in the red bottle while he commanded that power against his enemies.
The travellers did not approach Runcorn directly, but camped in hills outside the city. Ohio, guising himself as a Galish merchant, travelled into Runcorn on his own, bearing as trade goods quantities of siege dust and arachnid silk recovered from the depths of the green bottle.
He returned to bring them a detailed account of the activities of the conqueror of Runcorn, Elkor Alish. After defeating that city's army with the death-stone, Alish had installed his motley army of peasants and fishermen in the city. He was now busy recruiting cavalry and infantry from the Lezconcarnau Plains, otherwise known as the Plains of the Wild Horses, rich grazing lands between the Rohm Mountains and the Spine Mountains, occupying the hinterland of Runcorn.
Once Alish had gathered together an army sufficient to garrison the cities of the Harvest Plains, he would doubtless march south: he had already sent envoys to demand the surrender of those southern lands.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The sleeping man stirred, and muttered something unintelligible. Then he cried out as pain lanced home. Opened his eyes, spoke: 'You!'
And could say no more.
His eyes widened in something resembling panic.
'Don't worry,' said Hearst, holding up a blood-tipped needle. 'The point was poisoned, but it won't kill you. Miphon prepared it for me. He knows what he's doing.'
Hearst looked around the room, which was lit by a single beeswax candle. Flame melted time, silently, remorselessly.
'You've made yourself comfortable,' said Hearst.
He drew aside a curtain. The window beyond was open to the night. He saw lights in the streets spread out below this high tower, and lights on ships anchored in the harbour of Runcorn. He closed the shutters against the night.
'You know,' said Hearst, turning back to his victim, i still don't know why you did it. I've thought about it many times, but I still don't understand. So why did you do it, Alish?'
Elkor Alish, paralysed, made no answer.
Hearst fingered the death-stone. It was cool beneath his touch. He picked it up.
'Was it this that tempted you? Power? But you could have had that in the Cold West.'
The death-stone kicked in his hand like a living heart. Hearst set it down.
'Or was it more than mere power that tempted you? Did you think to make yourself a god?'
Alish closed his eyes.
'If that's what tempted you, it's probably impossible anyway. You know as well as I do about Words of Enhancement, Guiding, Command and Reversal. Remember Stronghold Handfast? We found Heenmor, turned to stone. Why? How? Perhaps he was trying to use those Words to perfect his command of the death-stone. Whatever experiments he tried, one of them killed him.'
If Hearst could have been assured that his words were having some effect, he might have stopped then. But Alish, paralysed by poison, could not say or betray what he felt. Hearst's only hope was to go on and on, hoping that his words would be sufficient to enlighten the man he had once counted as his friend.
'Miphon says the death-stone may, perhaps, kill anyone who uses it in any but the simplest ways. Possibly there's no way for a man to use it to become a god. So don't let the prospect tempt you – and don't have me followed when I leave here, for I'll use the death-stone if I have to.
'Not that I want to. Look at our lives. Blood and slaughter. What good has it done us? Once I thought the warrior's road led to glory, but now… betrayed by my best friend. My right hand gone. In my dreams, the faces of dead men. A legend in my own time – but I get no pleasure from hearing the songs they sing of me.
'Men call me a hero but what good's that when I see the dead in my dreams? Men who died because my leadership failed. And now? Enough. I go south with the death-stone, and you… best you return to Rovac. And as for the old stories, old legends, ancient wrongs… forget about them.
'Because if you really live to remedy history, then you really are mad. Every man, sometimes, in a battle or after it, may hesitate and wonder if what he does is right. And then: it's good to know our people have suffered. Thinking of ourselves as victims of an unforgivable wrong, we're free to follow the way of the sword with clear minds. We can blame the wizards, who forced our ancestors off their land – forgetting that we've made our own choices since then.
'Alish, those old tales are just excuses for murder. Nobody on Rovac gives half a shit for the lands round the Ocean of Cambria. Rovac's been our home for thousands of years. Rovac! That's home! Not some place in the south of Argan that we've never seen in our lives.
'I know there are others who think as you do. I know you're a member of the Code of Night – and we both know that on Rovac the Code of Night is something of a joke, and for good reason. Even if we did destroy the wizards, to take back our ancestral lands we'd have to kill all the people who have settled there over the last four thousand years.'
Hearst paused, sighting a handsome document drafted in black ink on vellum. He picked it up, and read it through. It was addressed to the Ruling Council of Rovac, and it commanded the armies of Rovac to battle. It spoke of Raunen Song, the death-stone and the red bottle; it spoke of the conquest of Runcorn and also of the conquest of the Greater Teeth and the Harvest Plains. interesting,' said Hearst. 'You boast of conquests you've yet to make – still, no doubt, given the chance, you'd have conquered all by the time this ink reached Rovac. Given the promises you make, perhaps the fleets of Rovac would have sailed here. But the plunder of cities would be what drew them, not any thoughts of ancient wrongs and the justice of history.'
Hearst tore the document apart. Alish opened his eyes, gazed on the torn vellum, then closed his eyes again.
'As you know, I'm taking the death-stone south. And the red bottle. As for Raunen Song… I can't trust you with even that much power.'
Hearst remembered the sword cutting apart the steel bars of the portcullis in the green bottle. He took it and held it high. He spoke Words of Unbinding which Miphon had taught him. The room was flooded with violet light as energies flared from the blade.
'There,' said Hearst, laying the sword down beside Alish. 'Strength has gone out of the world. It's a better place without it. Keep the blade. And remember my mercy: I let you live.'
Alish, opening his eyes again, tried to speak – but failed.
'What do you want to tell me?' said Hearst. 'What went wrong? I wish I knew. There's a breach between us now: yet once it was as if we were of the same flesh. i don't know what went wrong, but I know when it happened. It was at Larbreth, wasn't it? Yes. I remember. You were held captive. None of us knew your fate. Day followed day: a long siege. Then you opened the city gates to give us our chance. We pressed home the attack.
T found that woman, Ethlite. Yes. She lay on her bed; she was very weak. She'd been sick for some reason. She said she couldn't see properly: I think she thought I was you. Anyway, she tried to command me. She spoke as if she owned you. She spoke… not in a tone of command… but as one speaks to a person trusted to obey to the point of death and a little bit beyond. She spoke as if you were her creature.
'She asked for help. I drew my sword – I helped her, you can count on that. I took her head. Remember that, Alish. Think about that when I'm gone. My thoughts were all for you: I myself took revenge against her.
T don't know what terror, what torture she used to break you to your knees. But we all know that anyone can be broken. Still, you gave us the city. If there was any way… Alish, I wake by night, in the darkness, and I'm alone. Every person I've ever valued is dead… some by my sword. I could kill you now, but too many are dead
