me.”
“What?” Gar’rth said, finding his voice. “I don’t understand. You sent the Wyrd to lure me back?”
The figure in the black robes turned. Gar’rth was close enough now to see his face. He looked to be a man in his late thirties, his black hair swept back, lined with grey and white at the edges. Behind the dark eyes Gar’rth saw a deeper shade, a bright red that could not be concealed, that told him the true nature of the thing before him.
Yet
“No, the Wyrd had tasks of her own to complete. She came close, but your own intervention on the night of the dance and the betrayal of your uncle-at Vanescula’s command-led to her death before her work was done. Therefore I must send another.”
The figure turned back to the pool.
“Tell me, Gar’rth, what do you see here?”
He looked into the still waters.
“Nothing. Nothing but the barest ripple.”
“Then perhaps you have no empathy for magic.” The man sneered slightly, and exhaled. “Still, that can be rectified in time, and time is what we have in plenty. Let us try again. Grasp my hand, and think. Think of King Roald, perhaps.”
Gar’rth held his hand out slowly. Quickly the man took it. Coldness crept up his wrist and into his arm, and yet the grip was so strong that he couldn’t have broken it if he had tried.
“Look, Gar’rth. Think of King Roald, and look.”
The dark colour of the water faded and the ripples took form. Quickly, a half recognisable image of the King appeared. Gar’rth gasped, and the image vanished.
He felt the grip tighten on his hand.
“In time I will teach you to do this properly. I have spent many, many lifetimes watching the lives of others, from their births to their deaths. It has showed me just how weak humans are, just how malleable they can be. King Roald, for instance, lusts as much as the basest born peasant. I have seen it-how he deSires the woman Ellamaria. Such weakness.”
“Why are you revealing this to me?”
“Because it will make your choice easier, Gar’rth. It is a mere demonstration of the power I will grant you. Think of Kara now, for that emotion should be powerful in you.”
Instantly the waters changed. A room appeared. Alone on a settee lay Kara, asleep, breathing gently. Behind her, Gar’rth saw Theodore and Castimir in a similar state, and nearby he was relieved to see the slumbering forms of Albertus Black and Gideon Gleeman.
“If you want her, then I will give her to you,” the man said, his voice compelling, seductive. “Now. Here, in this place, you can possess her more fully than any man ever possessed a woman across the river.”
“Her love is worthless if it is forced from her,” Gar’rth responded, suddenly angry.
The man laughed and let go of Gar’rth’s hand. The image faded immediately.
“You must truly have feelings for her, to act so nobly. But her fate, and that of your friends, rests entirely in your hands.”
“What do you mean?”
“Their belongings are all here. They are yours, for your friends won’t be able to take them. Their horses from Canifis, their possessions, and they themselves will be yours if you want them to be.” He peered intently. “Tell me truthfully, Gar’rth, have you never thought of taking Theodore’s life, in front of Kara’s eyes? To show her how strong you really are? Here, you could do that.”
“He is my friend,” Gar’rth replied, but somehow the words seemed feeble.
“Your friend?” the dark man said. “He hates what you are, Gar’rth. You know it. He fears you, as well, as they all do. Even Kara. If it were otherwise, would she have taken the wolfbane dagger without telling you?”
“You don’t answer me because you have thought so before. Still, they are your friends, and I will respect that. The choice you have is a brutally simple one. If you submit to me, I will tell you of your history, and of your future, too. Your friends may go freely across the river and return home.”
“And if I don’t?”
“They will live in torment, forever, as has no other since the time of the God Wars. Believe me when I tell you that death will be but a dream to them. And in the end, you
“King Roald offered you a similar choice, did he not, before you swore to serve him?” He looked deeply into Gar’rth’s eyes. “You should never have left Morytania, Gar’rth. This is your place. This is your home.”
“And my friends will be allowed to leave Morytania, unmolested?”
The man nodded.
“I will not try to stop them. I cannot make promises on behalf of others, of course, but they should be able to accomplish it. Already Vanstrom and the rebel Karnac near the Barrows. They will be here within a day. Time enough for you to make your choice. I shall even wake them before you go, so you can part from them cordially. And if you wish to help them further, then you may give each one a pouch filled with the most precious gems. None of them will want ever again.
“Tell me, Gar’rth, has a more reasonable offer ever been made?”
“You are offering no choice at all.”
“That is true,” the man admitted without hesitation. “But the lives of your friends are in your hands. Their welfare is entirely dependent upon you.”
“Then you know I will accept it. You know I have to.”
The man smiled.
“Very good, Gar’rth. Very good. You made the wise choice. Your friends will live, and likely prosper, and though you might never be with them again, you will be able to watch them whenever you want. Believe me, there are worse decisions people must make in this world.”
Gar’rth gritted his teeth, and clenched his hands.
“I said I accept, and I will,” he hissed. “But I want to write a letter, for Kara to open when she crosses the river. I could not stand to hear her voice, now that my mind is made up. And to Ebenezer, as well, for I owe him much.”
“Ah, the alchemist,” the dark man said. “You will be glad to know he is now back on his feet. I have seen him in the company of others in my pool. But now that you have accepted, I will tell you the truth of your life, and of why you are so important.
“Then you may write your letters, and if you want you may dictate them to Georgi, for I know how limited your skill is in their language. You can tell your friends whatever you wish them to know.”
32
“Theodore? Can you hear me, Theodore?”
The knight opened his heavy eyelids. He breathed deeply, and there was no trace of smoke in his lungs, no prickly fire that wanted to make him cough and wheeze. Still, he could smell it on his clothes, and on the clothes of Castimir, who lay next to him, asleep.
He prodded the wizard with his hand. Castimir sighed, mumbled incoherently, and remained still.
“He is safe and unharmed, Theodore.” It was Gar’rth’s voice. “All our friends are.”
He could see the werewolf standing in the shadows of the darkened room with black walls and black furnishings. About him, on several large settees, lay the rest of the embassy. To his surprise, this included Albertus Black and Gideon Gleeman. The scientist lay motionless on a litter, as if someone had prepared him for a journey.
