you true. Yet you believed me not. Aye, tortured me on account of disbelief. I told you of Doors, too. You wouldn't believe those, either. Yet I've people here who've been through such.'
'I believe now,' said Sarazin. 'I've seen monsters come through a Door in Chenameg.'
'Oho!' said Douay. 'What you see you believe, and the rest of the world is a lie. If you weren't ready to believe speech, why torture me for speech?'
'I… I'm sorry. But… you… there were… I mean, you told not one story but five. You were… I mean, think of the names for a start. First you were Drake Douay, then the son of a Demon, then something else, then…' 'Aye,' said Douay, softly.
'Anyway,' said Sarazin, 'it was Jarl who did the torture. Jarl and Plovey and others.'
'But you who condemned me! I was innocent, yet you let me be taken for torture!'
'But… but it was so difficult,' said Sarazin. 'So difficult to believe your innocence when you told us so many different names and all.'
'Many names I went by, yes,' said Douay, 'for not all could be revealed. But now the worst has happened, so all may be revealed. It will do no harm.' 'I… I should like to know the truth,' said Sarazin.
Then Drake Douay revealed himself to Sarazin as Lord Dreldragon, heir to the Scattered Empire, a seapower realm of the Central Ocean.
'I am of the Favoured Blood,' said Douay, 'for it is the Favoured Blood which rules in the Scattered Empire. Mighty are our weaponmasters and beautiful our women. But, more than either, our kingdom values its honour.'
Then Douay explained that, years before, he had learnt of the doom which threatened Argan.
T learnt of it through prophecy,' said Douay, 'for we have true prophets in the Scattered Empire. My kith and kin thought Argan doomed, but then I was vouchsafed a prophetic dream. If I came to Argan on my lonesome, I might have a chance to save the place.
'But there was something I had to do, aye, this dream of mine showed me what was needed. There's a price for everything, man, and this is the price I had to pay. I had to come humble like, concealing my true identity.
This was the burden that was placed upon me. To leave all that was dear to me. To go humble, aye, like a sick cat slinking past a thousand hounds in kennel. Then, when doom came upon Argan, I was to rally the strongest and fight against the Swarms.
That I have done. Hence you find me here as lord of the Gates of Chenameg. But I've been weakened, aye, weakened by vile tortures, by filthy dungeons, by punish- ments unnatural and undeserved, and most of all by torture. It was you who did it, Watashi. You punished me in my innocence. You broke my strength. Hence, when Argan's peril came, I lacked the power to save the continent.'
Now Sarazin saw the depths of his own guilt, and he knelt at the feet of the noble Douay and he wept, helplessly. Until Douay raised him to his feet.
You know me now for what I am,' said Douay gently. 'I am of the Favoured Blood. You thought me a pirate, but I am no pirate, though hardship may have forced me to keep company with such. I am the scion of a noble house. Truly. I am of the Favoured Blood.
'When I came to these Gates, the evil Groth held them against the people, ruling with rape and torture. I over- threw his tyranny which oppressed the people, and now I hold the Gates in justice for all the people. My fee upon the traffic is moderate, for I take but ten per cent of all that moves.
'I rule, as I have said, in justice. Are you ready to receive my justice?' Sarazin dried his eyes and said in a voice without life: 'I am.'
'This, then, is my justice,' said Douay. 'I will not kill you, though death you richly deserve. Instead, I will let you depart from here with your life. Aye, with your life, and with food for the journey, and new boots for the trail.'
Then Douay led Sarazin to the eastern exit of his fortress palace, where Glambrax was waiting with two leather packs, one sized for a dwarf, one for a man. They were old, weather-scarred packs, smelling of the sweat of many soldiers.
'They're not pretty,' said Douay, seeing Sarazin looking at the packs dubiously. 'But they'll do the job. Strong, see?'
He picked up the larger pack by one of its shoulder straps and threw it to Sarazin. Who was almost bowled over by the weight. 'Grief!' said Sarazin. 'What's in it?'
'Oh, food and such,' said Douay. 'You couldn't travel with less.'
Sarazin thanked the magnanimous Douay for his mercy. And Glambrax, grinning, danced around the noble Douay, capering, bowing incessantly.
'Stop that!' said Sarazin sharply, horrified. This was no way to behave in the presence of one of the Favoured Blood!
Glambrax stopped capering, knelt, licked Douay's boots, then embraced him. At last, Douay slapped at the dwarf. Glambrax slipped away, grinning still.
'Must I leave?' said Sarazin to Douay. 'I would fain put my sword at your service.'
'Aye, mayhap,' said Douay softly. 'But black humours come upon me when I rage at dark and light alike then kill, aye, my blade terrible to behold for it glows with a light like blood. Then no steel can prevail against mine. Aye, stone itself gives way before my blade.' 'How so?' said Sarazin, amazed.
'It is a dark matter of witchcraft,' said Douay. 'This curse has lain upon the ruling house of the Scattered Empire for generations, that their sons will be beset at times with evil. Best you leave, Watashi, before the fit comes on me yet again.' 'You… you kill many?' said Sarazin.
'When the fit is upon me my servants feed my blade with victims,' said Douay. 'Aye, throw me cats and such. But, Watashi, despite my mercy there is a part of me which hates you still. I'll not deny it. When next the madness comes, I fear that cats will not suffice. My blade will hunt you, aye. And cut closer than shaving, I promise you that.' 'Perhaps a wizard…?'
'Man,' said Douay, you think I've not sought help from every quarter? Wizards are frauds, I've told you before. This is witchcraft, the real source of evil. This I must endure. Such is my burden.'
So spoke the noble Douay, his voice unwavering, a tragic courage written in his face. And Sarazin, humbled by such courage, such suffering, such grandeur in defeat, went down on his knees before this scion of the House of Hexagon, who permitted Sarazin to kiss his hand.
Then Sarazin was given back his own sword, sheath and swordbelt, x and was given new boots as well. With his equipment complete, he shouldered his pack and set off, with Glambrax as ever just a footstep behind him.
Thus, in early summer in the year Alliance 4328, Sean Sarazin and his untrusty dwarf Glambrax departed from the Gates of Chenameg and trekked east. They hoped to travel beside the Velvet River to the Araconch Waters, the enormous freshwater lake in the desolate heartland of Argan North. From there, they hoped to trek north through the dragonlands to a tributary of the Amodeo River, then follow that river downstream to the far, far distant seaport of Brine.
That seaport was in the north-east of Argan, and from there they could get passage across the seas to foreign shores free from the threat of the Swarms. And to a new life as… as what?
That question would, doubtless, resolve itself in due course. For the moment, what mattered was to make the journey. Burdened by their packs, Sarazin and Glambrax laboured up the ever-climbing path clinging to the southern side of the Manaray Gorge. Finally they reached the rough- cut uplands.
On they trekked, forever keeping the Gorge on their left. This was a land of bones, of shadows, of rock and wind, with shambling mountains dominating the horizon. A lonely land, despite the many marks which showed that other refugees had been this way.
Finally, late in the afternoon, when they came upon a rill of water threading its way between jumbling boulders, Sarazin decided it was time to make camp. They had not eaten all day, nor had they drunk. So first they slaked their thirst, then they broke open their packs and rummaged within. Most of the weight proved to be pemmican – rich stuff made not just with meat but with nuts and dried cherries also.
As well as food, they had a change of clothes apiece and several changes of socks and four empty leather water- bottles. They also each had a single oblong strip of canvas with lightweight ropes sewn to each corner. These would provide a little marginal shelter against the worst of the weather. 'No gold,' said Sarazin gloomily.
When they finally got to Brine, they would be stony broke. He would probably have to sell his sword to buy
