Davron flicked
an imaginary speck of dust from his coat and tried not to show how
his fingers shook. ‘You’ve made it clear enough, I think.’ He
raised his head to stare at the Unmaker, a flat depthless look, or
so he hoped. ‘Let us dispense with these childish games, Carasma.
What is my task?’
‘You will go
to the Knuckle,’ the Unmaker snapped. ‘You will enter it, and you
will seize the ley from it and take it to this place you call
Havenstar.’ He smiled. ‘You will drown your promised haven in a
purple ley that will taint the untainted, a destructive ley that
will despoil the land, a relentless ley that will destroy the hopes
of all Unbound, of all excluded. That, Davron of Storre, is your
task.’
‘Impossible.
Seize hold of ley? I am a man, not some sort of god.’
Carasma
pointed a finger at him. ‘It is more than possible, Storre. It is
certain. You will indeed be able to take ley from the Knuckle and
drag it into Havenstar.’
‘Why don’t you
do it yourself?’ he asked. He was tired and the fatigue was pulling
at him, clouding his mind even as it tugged him down.
Carasma
shrugged, with an all too human gesture. ‘Because I cannot directly
kill humans who have given themselves to the Maker—you know that.
And it is undoubted that there will be people of his within
Havenstar who will die. I can break the world, I can order ley or
Minions to do my bidding, but I cannot drain ley into Havenstar
without coming perilously close to breaking the Law of the
Universe.’
He sighed.
‘The distinction is beyond me. You tell Minions to kill—’
Carasma held
up his hand to halt him. ‘Never. I can incite their rage perhaps,
no more than that. Of course, I don’t actually object too much when
a death is the result…’
‘Naturally
not.’
‘Just as I
won’t object too much if Maker worshippers are killed in the
invasion of Havenstar.’
‘Invasion?’
‘I have given
orders that every building in Havenstar be razed to the ground,
every tree cut, every crop burned, every drop of water fouled. I
did not mention the people, but presumably my Minions will defend
themselves.’
‘Splitting
hairs, Carasma. Do you think that is fulfilling the letter of the
law?’
He shrugged
again, carelessly. ‘Certainly. And who cares about the spirit of
it?’ He stood up. ‘Come with me, Storre, through the ley. Come with
me and fetch the ley to Havenstar. You will find it amenable; I can
do that much to you because you agreed to it. That is your task.
That’s all.’
That’s all. To
taint the untainted, to destroy the land, to swallow up all that
was built… He thought of the untainted children born to the
Unbound, children who believed themselves safe. To destroy the hope
of the Unbound, Carasma had said.
Their hope, their
children
.
And there was
nothing, nothing he could do to stop himself. Already he felt the
urge within him, the need to do as Carasma asked… ‘Yes,’ he said
bitterly. ‘Yes, of course. I will go and do your bidding. Perform
my task.’ Alyss, Mirrin, Staven—for this, I bought your
untainting…
‘What will
your mapmaker think of her beloved guide when she sees what it is
he has done?’ Carasma asked. ‘Ah Storre, the pain, the pain. I can
already feel it.’
He turned and
stumbled after the Unmaker.
Feel the pain?
So could he, and he had not even started.
~~~~~~~
‘We’ve made
good time.’ Scow tried to smile across at Keris. ‘There are the
lights of Lamri’s lift station. We’ll be having dinner in the Hall
before you know it. I’ll get Lamri to take us all the way there on
a wildbell.’
‘I don’t care
about eating,’ Quirk growled back at him as their mounts jogged the
last stretch down to the lakeside. ‘I just have to get off this
beast while I still have any skin whatsoever on my backside.
Creation, I’ve never been so sore in my whole life.’
‘I know,’ she
said in commiseration. ‘I haven’t found a comfortable saddle since
I lost that one into the Deep with Ygraine. I’ll swear this one is
stuffed with clover burrs.’
‘Hullo,
there’s someone else in a hurry,’ Quirk said peering through the
gathering dusk. Two mounts were thundering in from their right,
also heading for the wildbell station. Two dogs led the way.
Scow followed
his line of sight. ‘Isn’t that Favellis and Dita and their dogs?’
he asked.
He was right,
as moments later the two women rode up on sweating mounts. ‘Keris!
Scow! Good to see you again!’ Favellis shouted. ‘Keris, all your
maps, they worked! Oh, hullo, Quirk, I didn’t see you there.’
‘What do you
mean?’ Keris asked.
‘The Margrave
must have fired them. We were at the border. Maker, it was
wonderful! I thought we were dead, all of us, and then—wham. A
light—’
‘Come on,’
Dita interrupted. ‘Let’s get to the Margrave. We can tell everybody
what happened at one and the same time.’
Keris,
desperately tired and sore, nodded and urged her mount down the
final slope. Even the sight of Havenstar by night, seen from the
wildbell basket a few minutes later, failed to cheer her. She had
ridden out with Davron, she was returning without him…
They found
Meldor in the sitting room of his private apartments, having his
evening meal with Nablon in attendance. He looked up as they
entered, sniffed the air, and before anyone could speak, said,
‘Davron’s not with you.’ The flatness of his tone caught at her,
choking her, and she could not reply.
‘No,’ said
Scow. ‘Favellis and Dita are here though. They have news from the
border.’
Meldor nodded
and turned to Nablon. ‘Have food brought for everyone. Then get
some baths organised, clean clothes, whatever is needed.’ He waited
until the door had closed behind the scribe before he added,
‘Davron first. The Unmaker came for him?’
Scow exchanged
a look with Keris and when she was silent, he explained what had
happened. Meldor looked grim, but made no comment. ‘Were you near
the border when I burned the maps?’ he asked.
‘We were,’
Favellis said, unable to contain herself any longer. ‘It worked,
Margraf! It was unbelievable—you should have seen it! I just
couldn’t believe my eyes—’
Dita laid a
hand on Favellis’s arm ‘I think perhaps I’d better tell it,’ she
said gently. ‘Margraf, we were standing on the bridge at Greenwell.
There was a horde of Minions and Pets attacking us. Havenguards
there had run out of arrows and things were looking pretty bleak.
The Minions got an order to attack and were advancing at a run
towards the ley line. On the bridge it was already hand-to-hand.
Then, just when I thought it was all up with us, there was this
blinding light and I found myself half-draped over the bridge
railing with Favellis beside me on her hands and knees.
‘But we
weren’t the only ones flattened. When I got to my feet it was to
see that all the Minions seemed to be lying on the ground too, as
far as the eye could see. And everything beyond the ley line was
stable…’ She smiled wryly at Scow. ‘Sorry. You’re going to have to
cross a league or so of stability every time you want to leave
Havenstar.’
‘I’ll
live.’
‘It was weird,
Margraf,’ Favellis said, unable to keep silent. ‘A lot of the
Minions seemed to have disintegrated like—like old clothes left in
the sun and rain for season upon season. They shrank. Crumbled.
What on earth happened to them?’
‘I suspect
that they merely became their real age,’ Meldor said. He sounded
pleasantly satisfied at the thought. ‘Stability has been
re-established, and with it the Law of the Universe. The Law has no
place for what is unnatural, and exceptionally long life without
ageing is unnatural.’
Dita nodded,
understanding. ‘Many of those still alive have aged. The one I’d
been fighting a while before was suddenly as decrepit as my grannie
back home. I don’t remember ever seeing an old Minion before.’ She
grinned, as if the idea amused her.
‘Have we won,
then?’ Quirk dared to ask.
‘I don’t think
it’ll be quite that easy,’ Dita replied. ‘Lots were still alive and
sort of…well, crazy, I suppose. They came at us like they were
berserk, not caring if they lived or died. And the pets! Not all of
them died, either. Maybe only about half. Margraf, there are
hundreds, no, thousands of masterless pets milling around out
there, and every darned one of them is hopping mad.’
‘You should
have heard the sounds,’ Favellis said. ‘The wailing! A—noise, no,
an ululation of grief and rage and madness…’ She shuddered,
remembering. ‘It was horrible, like hearing all the lamentations of
grief in the world, all at once.’
‘Stability
rejects them even as it wrenches away the possibility of
immortality for their masters. It is not going to be a pleasant
night for those on the borders. Some are bound to get through, as
well. Ah, here’s Nablon back with some food, by the smell of it.
Nablon, send Zeferil in to me, will you? People must be
warned.’
‘Do you mean
to tell me burning the maps might have made things worse?’ Dita
asked after Nablon and the servants had left.
‘Yes—and no.’
Meldor said. ‘Before, we could never have won, or even have held
out. Not even if Chantry came to our aid. Not against those
numbers. They would have broken through our lines and overrun us
sooner or later, probably sooner. We have no kinesis chain to
protect us, and no normal stability or Order. We were doomed. Now,
well, there aren’t as many of them.’
‘Fewer in
number, yes. But now they’re insane,’ Scow said. He sounded
grim.
‘It won’t be
easy. We’ll just have to hope that Chantry comes to our aid
tomorrow morning,’ Meldor told him calmly.
They all
stared at him. ‘
Chantry’s
here?’ Keris asked,
incredulous.
‘Approaching
our borders with Defender forces.’
‘And you think
they’ll come to our aid?’
‘I think they
have a powerful dislike of Minions,’ Meldor said carefully. ‘And I
think the Anhedrin is wise enough to know that Defenders would not
take kindly to seeing Unstablers massacred by Minions and Pets
while they stood by and did nothing. We’ll see in the morning.
Dita, Favellis, go and get some rest. And then get back to the
border. Everyone will be needed there. The rest of you eat, while I
explain what I want you to do.’
Dita and
Favellis both stood up in silence. No one said anything. Meldor’s
words, calmly spoken, had managed to chill them all.
It’s not
finished yet,
Keris thought. Dita made a kinesis of farewell,
and Favellis followed suit.
‘You knew
Carasma had taken Davron before we told you,’ Keris said to Meldor
after the two women had left. She had not meant to sound
accusatory, but that was the way the words came out.
‘Yes. It was
inevitable once the invasion started. Carasma would attack on all
fronts, and Davron is one of his weapons. I want you all to go to
the Knuckle, leaving as soon as you can. Keris, do eat. You will
need the strength.’
‘The Knuckle?
Why?’ She picked at the food without appetite.
‘Because
that’s where Davron is. When Zeferil comes back I shall give orders
for fresh mounts for you to be sent out towards the Knuckle
immediately. Later you can go after them by wildbell. That will
give you a chance to eat and wash and you can even rest while you
are flying back to catch up with your mounts. Ah, here he is now,
if I am not mistaken.’
She sat,
frozen, unable to eat anything more. Meldor knew where Davron was?
She waited while Nablon and Zeferil listened to their new
instructions, but the moment the two men had departed once more,
she asked, ‘How do you know that’s where Davron is?’
‘I read the
Holy Books,’ he said complacently. ‘If you had spent any time at
all studying the Book of Predictions, you’d know all I do. Keris,
why do you think I’ve worked so hard to keep Davron from killing
himself, when I knew that he could be asked to destroy everything I
have done here in Havenstar?’
‘Do you mean
to tell me that Davron’s mentioned in the Holy Books?’
‘Oh, not by
name, but I believe both of you are there—you and Davron.’
He could not
have said anything that astounded her more. She gaped at him.
‘
Me?
’
‘You.’
‘That’s
ridiculous! Maker and midden, how could that possibly be true?’
‘Where the
Maker walks, anything is possible. Have more faith, child.’
‘I’m not a
child!’ Creation, Perhaps I should have taken more notice of that
dolt, Devotions-chantor Nebuthnar of Kibbleberry. ‘I did a map of
the Knuckle once. Is that how you know where Davron is? But it’s
too dark now, surely, to see anything…’
‘Nablon’s been
keeping an eye on it for me all day. The ley there is troubled. He
hasn’t seen Davron, and you’re right. It’s too dark now.’
‘But—what’s
going to happen?’ Scow asked. ‘I mean—what do the predictions
say?’
Meldor
shrugged. ‘Ah, that’s the problem, as it usually is with
foretellings of any kind. They are always couched in such
convoluted language that one can never be sure what they mean until
after it has happened. But Davron is described as the Betrayer.
Keris is mentioned as the bringer of salvation with magic in her
colours—the maps, of course—and as having death in her hands.
Presumably what happens when her maps are burned.’
‘And Davron’s
fate?’ she asked, the catch in her voice giving her away.
‘Unknown.
Predictions are only possibilities, after all. It does seem to
indicate that he’ll be the cause of many deaths of Haveners. It
hints that he could be the instrument of the Unmaker’s ultimate
victory. Possibly he will be the instrument of the Unmaker’s
defeat. It could go either way, but if I read it correctly, the
Book of Predictions mentions him as dragging ley into the land from
the fist of colour. Where else would that be but the Knuckle?’