«No matter, no matter I suppose.» The reply came before Balinor had recovered from his astonishment at the abrupt change. «You could have stayed away after… after all the… after your treachery. I hoped you would, you know, because we were so close as children and you are, after all, my only brother. I will be King of Callahorn… I should have been firstborn anyway…»
He trailed off into a whisper, his mind suddenly lost in some unspoken thought. He had gone mad, Balinor thought in desperation, and could no longer be reached!
«Palance, listen to me — just listen to me. I have done nothing to you or to Shirl. I’ve been in Paranor since I left here weeks before, and I returned only to warn our people that the Skull King has assembled an army of such awesome proportions that it will sweep through the entire Southland unchallenged unless we stop it here! For the sake of all these people, please listen to me…»
His brother’s voice pierced the air in shrill command. «I will hear no more of this foolish talk of invasion! My scouts have checked the country’s borders and report no enemy armies anywhere. Besides, no enemy would dare to attack Callahorn — to attack me… Our people are safe here. What do I care for the rest of the Southland? What do I owe them? They have always left us to fight alone, to guard these borderlands alone. I owe them nothing!»
He took a step toward Balinor and pointed menacingly at him, the strange hatred flaming anew as the young face contorted savagely.
«You turned against me, brother, when you knew that I was to be king. You tried to poison me as you poisoned my father — you wanted me as sick and helpless as he is now… dying alone, forgotten, alone. You thought you had found an ally that could gain the throne for you when you left with that traitor Allanon. How I hate that man — no, not a man, but an evil thing! He must be destroyed! But you will remain in this cell, alone and forgotten, Balinor, until you die — the fate you had planned for me!»
He turned away suddenly, breaking his tirade off with a sharp laugh as he paced to the closed door. Balinor thought he was about to open it, when the hulking youth paused and looked back at him. Slowly he came around, the eyes sad again.
«You could have stayed away from this land and been safe,” he muttered as if confused by this fact. «Stenmin said you would come back even when I assured him you would not. He was right again. He is always right. Why did you come back?»
Balinor thought quickly. He had to keep his brother’s attention long enough to find out what had happened to his father and his friends.
«I… I discovered I had been mistaken — that I was wrong,” he answered slowly. «I came home to see our father and to see you, Palance.»
«Father.» The word came out like an unfamiliar name as the Prince moved a step closer. «He is beyond our help, lying like one already dead in that room in the south wing. Stenmin looks after him, as I do, but nothing can be done. He does not seem to want to live…»
«But what is wrong with him?» Balinor’s impatience burst free, and he moved toward the other threatening. Keep your distance, Balinor.“ Palance backed away hastily, drawing a long dagger and holding it protectively before him. Balinor hesitated a moment. It would be easy to seize the dagger, hold the Prince captive until he was released. Yet something restrained him, something deep inside that warned against such a move. Quickly he stopped, holding up his hands and backing away to the far wall.
«You must remember you are my prisoner.» Palance nodded in satisfaction, his voice unsteady. «You poisoned the King and you tried to poison me. I could have you put to death. Stenmin advised me to have you executed immediately; but I am not the coward that he is. I was a commander in the Border Legion, too, before… But they’re gone now–disbanded and sent home to their families. My reign shall be a time of peace. You don’t understand that, Balinor, do you?»
The borderman shook his head negatively, desperately trying to hold his brother’s attention for a few minutes longer. Palance had apparently gone mad, whether from a latent congenital defect of the mind or from the strain of whatever it was that had been happening since Balinor had left Tyrsis with Allanon, it was impossible to tell. In any event, he was no longer the brother that Balinor had grown to manhood with and had loved as he had loved no one else. It was a stranger living in the physical shell that was his brother’s body — a stranger obsessed with the need to be King of Callahorn. Stenmin was behind this; Balinor knew it. The mystic had somehow twisted the mind of his maddened brother, bending it to his own uses, filling it with promises of his destiny as King. Palance had always wanted to rule Callahorn. Even when Balinor had left the city, he knew Palance felt certain he would one day be King. Stenmin had been there all the time, counseling and advising in the manner of a close friend, poisoning his mind against his brother. But Palance had been strong–willed and independent, a sane and healthy man who would not be broken easily. Yet he was changed. Hendel had been wrong about Palance, but apparently Balinor had been wrong as well. Neither could have foreseen this, and now it was too late.
«Shirl — what of Shirl?» the tall borderman asked quickly.
Again the anger faded from his brother’s darting eyes and a slow smile crept over his lips, relaxing the anguished face for an instant.
«She is so beautiful… so beautiful.» He sighed foolishly, the dagger falling harmlessly to the cell floor as the Prince opened his hands to emphasize the feeling. «You took her from me, Balinor — tried to keep her from me. But she is safe now. She was saved by a Southlander, a Prince like myself. No, I am King of Tyrsis now, and he is only a Prince. It’s just a little kingdom; I had never heard of it myself. He and I will be good friends, Balinor, the way you and I once were. But Stenmin… says I can trust no one. I even had to lock away Messaline and Acton. They came to me when the Border Legion was sent home, trying to persuade me to… well, I guess to give up my plans for peace. They didn’t understand… why…»
He stopped suddenly, his lowered eyes falling on the momentarily forgotten dagger. He picked it up quickly, placing it back in its belted sheath with a sly smile at his brother, looking strikingly like a clever child that has just avoided a scolding. There was no longer any doubt in Balinor’s mind that his brother was totally incapable of making rational decisions. He was suddenly struck with his earlier premonition that while he could easily seize the dagger and hold his brother prisoner, it would be a serious mistake. Now he knew why that innate sense of warning had been generated. Stenmin fully realized Palance’s condition, and had purposely left the brothers alone in that cell. If Balinor had attempted to disarm Palance and to escape while holding him prisoner, the evil mystic could have accomplished his obvious goal in one bold stroke by killing both brothers. Who would question him when he explained that Palance had met his death by accident while his brother was attempting to flee his prison confinement? With both brothers dead and their father incapable of governing, the mystic might be able to seize control of the government of Callahorn. Then he alone would determine the fate of the Southland.
«Palance, listen to me, I beg of you,” Balinor pleaded quietly. «We were so close once. We were more than just brothers by bloodline. We were friends, companions. We trusted each other, loved each other, and we could always work our problems out by understanding each other. You can’t have forgotten all that. Listen to me! Even a king must try to understand his people even when they don’t agree on the way things are to be handled. You agree with that, don’t you?»
Palance nodded soberly, the eyes vacant and detached as he tried to fight the haze that blocked his thought processes. There was a glimmer of understanding, and Balinor was determined to reach the memory that lay locked somewhere deep within. «Stenmin is using you — he is an evil man.» His brother started abruptly, taking a step backward as if to avoid hearing more. «You’ve got to understand Palance. I am not your enemy, nor am I the enemy of this country. I did not poison our father. I did not harm Shirl in any way. I only want to help…»
His plea was suddenly cut short as the ponderous cell door swung open with a sharp rasp, and the angular features of the wily Stenmin appeared. Bowing condescendingly, he entered the cell, his cruel eyes fastened intently on Balinor.
«I thought I heard you call me, my King,” he smiled quickly. «You’ve been in here alone so long, I thought something might have happened…»
Palance stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then shook his head negatively and turned to leave. In that instant Balinor considered leaping upon the evil mystic and crushing the life from him before the absent guards could act. But he hesitated for that single brief moment, uncertain that even this would save him or aid his brother, and so the opportunity was lost. The guards came back into the cell, leading the Elven brothers, who looked about dubiously, then rejoined their comrade on the far side of the little room. Suddenly Balinor recalled something Palance had said when he was talking about Shirl. He had mentioned a Prince from a tiny Southland kingdom — a Prince who had rescued the young girl. Menion Leah! But how could he be in Callahorn…?
