Noman (21 page)

"Heya, Seeker!"

"Wildman! What are you doing here?"

"Come to meet you, my friend."

He stood there just like in the old days, smiling and beautiful in the flickering torchlight. Behind him, still on the bridge, was Morning Star.

"I can't stop, Wildman," said Seeker. "Give way."

"Can't do that, brava," said the Wildman. "Can't let you go. Not now I've found you again."

"This one you call the Beloved is fooling you, Wildman. He's a savanter. He means to destroy us all."

"I don't see the need for any destroying," said the Wildman. "We're friends, you and I. Remember? We stand together against the world."

"He's lied to you! He's lied to everyone!"

"You're wrong, my friend. All he wants is to share the joy."

"Listen to him, Seeker," said Morning Star. "It's not the way you think. The Beloved brings only peace and joy."

So Morning Star stands by the Wildman, thought Seeker. She takes his side, shares his destiny. So be it.

All the time, the sound of the wordless singing filled the night air. Seeker knew he was running out of time.

"Let me past," he said.

"Can't do that, brava."

Seeker took a step forward. The Wildman too advanced until they were face-to-face. The Wildman then reached out his arms and embraced Seeker.

Seeker drew a long breath.

"Let me go, friend."

From across the river the swelling song of the Great Embrace was rising now. The Wildman gripped Seeker tight. Seeker spoke more forcefully.

"Let me go!"

As he spoke he hurled the Wildman from him. But the Wildman was agile, and he recovered rapidly. He placed himself before Seeker, adopting the combat stance.

"You want to pass, you have to fight."

"I don't want to fight you, Wildman."

"So you know what to do."

"You can't win against me."

"I've never lost before."

"That was then. Tell him, Star."

"Stand your ground, Wildman," said Morning Star.

Seeker flashed her a bitter look.

"If you love him, tell him not to do this."

"You're the only true friend I ever had, Seeker," said the Wildman. "But I'll fight you to the end if that's what I have to do."

"Why? For a savanter who wants to destroy all Noble Warriors?"

"Seems to me you're the one wants to do the destroying."

"Listen to him, Seeker," said Morning Star. "You come to kill. The Beloved comes to bring joy. Why are you on the side of death?"

"I'll do what I've been sent to do," said Seeker. "Now clear my way!"

He struck at the Wildman, but the Wildman blocked the blow and struck back, making Seeker stagger.

"Don't make me do this," Seeker growled as he struck again. "I don't want to hurt you." He struck a third time. The Wildman reeled and was forced back.

"I love you, Seeker," he said. As he spoke he released a stinging blow that caught Seeker unawares and hurled him to the ground.

"Hold him down!" cried Caressa.

At her command a dozen Orlans piled onto Seeker, pinning his limbs to the ground. Seeker groaned and uttered a low howl of rage. His body shook. He began to rise up. As he rose he carried the men with him as if they were no heavier than fallen leaves, and like fallen leaves, were shaken from his back.

"What must I do," he growled, "to make you understand?"

"Share the joy," said the Wildman.

Seeker struck once, and again, and again. The Wildman broke under the power of the blows and sank to his knees.

"Now clear my way!"

Seeker strode forward. The Wildman threw his arms round him as he passed, binding him tight. His grip was powerful, and try as he might, Seeker could not shake him off. So he seized the Wildman by the neck and choked and shook him till his arms fell free and he folded to the ground. There, his hands flailing, he grabbed for Seeker's ankles and clung to them. Seeker kicked him away.

"It's over!" he shouted. "Do I have to kill you?"

"Yes," said the Wildman, rising unsteadily to his feet, smiling through his pain. "You have to kill me."

Morning Star saw the look on Seeker's face and saw how the Wildman could barely control his own limbs.

"No, Wildman!" she cried out. "No more!"

Seeker heard that cry, so charged with love and grief, and tried to stop himself, tried to turn away from the horror into which he had fallen, but the Wildman stumbled after him once more, embraced him once more, called to him once more—

"Heya!"—the voice a faint echo of past glory—"Do you love me?"

Trapped by memories, trapped by the net of lost love, Seeker knew only that he must free himself. Enough now! No more failure, no more hesitation. Strike and let it be over. Strike and be free.

His last and greatest blow exploded the Wildman up into the air, arms spread wide, body arching, golden hair flying, high up and over and down again, to land with a crunching crack on the hard ground. There he lay, unmoving, eyes gazing up, unseeing, into the darkness.

"No-o-o!" cried Morning Star, throwing herself onto his inert body.

"Die! Die!" shrieked Caressa, lashing at Seeker with her silver-handled whip.

Seeker seemed not even to feel the blows. No one now stood between him and the bridge. In the valley beyond, kneeling in a night mist that covered the ground, the people of the Joyous swayed and hummed in the Great Embrace.

"He's dead!" cried Morning Star, sobbing with grief and anger. "You killed him! He loved you, and you killed him!"

S
EEKER MADE HIS WAY AS FAST AS HE COULD THROUGH
the lines of people, stepping over outstretched arms, heading for the heart of the gathering. The humming had swelled to a full openmouthed keening cry, but the people still had their heads on their arms and their eyes closed. Then in the flickering light of the dying fires Seeker saw that from their mouths dribbled the white creamy ooze he had seen before in the land cloud. As it stained the nightcool ground it turned to vapor, forming the ghostly mist on which the ring upon ring of kneeling swaying bodies now floated.

The nearer he got to the center, the more possessed were the people. The life force that flowed down the chains gathered strength like a river into which flows many streams; but the people themselves did not grow stronger. If anything, they seemed to become more lifeless, and from their mouths dribbled ever more white ooze. The ground mist grew deeper, rising now to waist height. The lines were shorter, the spaces between the kneeling people wider. Then at last there were four, then two. And then there was one.

The Joy Boy knelt in the mist with his head bowed, his companions' hands vibrating on his shoulders. Seeker came round to stand before him, and as he did so, the Joy Boy raised his head and opened his eyes and smiled. He looked so young and innocent that for a moment Seeker hesitated.

"Join us," said the Joy Boy. "Live forever."

He reached out his hands. Seeker jerked back.

"Don't touch me!"

"What are you so afraid of, my friend?"

"Let these people go," said Seeker. "This is between you and me."

"Too late," said the Joy Boy. "They and I are one now."

Seeker said no more. He stilled his mind and gathered his power.

"So much pain," murmured the Joy Boy.

Seeker struck. He felt the pulse of force leave him. He sensed it rippling like a shock wave over the Joy Boy. But it had no effect.

"We're strong now," said the Joy Boy. "You come too late."

Seeker struck a second time, with all the power he could command. This time he felt the Joy Boy give a slight shudder. That was all.

"You can't kill me," said the Joy Boy. "So join me."

He held out his hands once more.

Everything in Seeker shrank from that offered touch; but as he looked on the Joy Boy's smiling face, he knew that this was the only way. He dropped to his knees in the mist. There, surrounded by the heartbreaking song of thousands of people giving up their life force in a cause they did not understand, Seeker bowed to the Joy Boy and let him lay his hands on his shoulders.

"Let me share your joy," he said.

He felt the surge of power flowing into him. He did nothing to resist it. One by one he threw open the gates with which he defended his own lir until he was at the mercy of the Joy Boy's torrent of force.

Funny thing, strength. You can drink it in.

His gaze remained fixed on the Joy Boy's plump smiling face.

"There now," said the Joy Boy, "that's better, isn't it?"

As the Joy Boy spoke, he gave a small tug, not with his hands but with his mind. Seeker felt himself tip and pour like a jug. He let the lir stream out of him until he was so light and empty that he barely existed any more.

"There now," murmured the Joy Boy. "No more separation."

Seeker could feel the flow of strength entering the Joy Boy from the Great Embrace. Now it was entering him, too.

"I am you," he said.

"Ah," said the Joy Boy. "You begin to understand."

"No separation," said Seeker. "No escape."

It was so easy after all. This was the limitless power he had been given: the power to absorb the strength of others. All that the Joy Boy had gained for himself, drained from the thousands upon thousands ranged round him in the rising mist, now belonged to Seeker.

Gently, almost tenderly, he drew the lir back towards himself. The Joy Boy felt the reverse of the flow, and shocked, stiffening, he tried to close down the channels between them. But he could not do so. He tried to raise his hands from Seeker's shoulders. But they were fixed there fast. He tried to look away but could neither turn his head nor close his eyes.

"I've come so close!" he cried. "Why stop me now?"

As the lir flowed out of him, the Joy Boy was changing. His plump young cheeks grew sallow and began to form wrinkles. His smooth black hair faded and became thin. His sweet voice turned husky.

"Let me live," he cried. "For the love of Noman."

"Noman has no love for savanters."

At that, the Joy Boy's fast-withering face twisted into a bitter smile.

"How little you know," he said. "Everything we have done has been done in accordance with Noman's will."

"You may deceive others," said Seeker, never relenting for a second, sucking the lir from the dwindling figure before him. "But I know who you are."

"And who am I?" said the Joy Boy.

"You are Manlir."

Kneeling before him now, helpless in his power, was an old man. With each passing second, he grew older still.

"He told you that?"

"You chose the path of knowledge," he said. "He chose the path of faith."

"And did he tell you why I chose the path of knowledge?"

"To live forever. To be forever young."

"But before that? No, he never told you how it began, did he? Listen to me before it's too late. Don't you feel how close we are to you? We are Noble Warriors—like you. Noman himself created the order of the savanters, to protect the All and Only from the greatest enemy of all."

"You lie," said Seeker.

"And you are charged with the same duty. You've been called by the All and Only. You have heard the voice."

Surely you know it's you who will save me.

Manlir caught the moment of hesitation.

"The Assassin is coming," he said. "The Noble Warriors must defend the Lost Child. The savanters are part of that defense."

"You are our enemy."

"We are the necessary enemy. We were created to make you strong. Did Noman not tell you? He is my brother."

"You lie!"

"And you—you begin to doubt."

By now Manlir was shrunken to the form of a living corpse. Only the sharp eyes had energy in that skull of a face. Seeker tried to block the doubts, but once begun they multiplied within him. The powers of the savanters were similar to the powers of the Nomana, it was true. In his battles with them, just as in his battle with Manlir now,
he found himself attacked by his own secret skills. Perhaps it was true that savanters were Nomana gone bad. All the more reason to destroy them, as Noman commanded.

"Why has my brother let us live?" said Manlir. "Ask yourself that."

"The powers of the Noble Warriors have limits."

"But you have been given power without limits. Why you? Why now?"

"The savanters have grown too strong."

"The savanters were made to be strong. My brother said to me, 'Pursue knowledge without limits. Make yourselves lords of wisdom.' Why did he do that, Seeker? Why?"

The voice was faint and dry with extreme old age now, and the shrill tones bored into Seeker's brain. He realized with horror that he was losing his certainty, and that with it his strength was weakening. Manlir knew it, too. Like a fisherman drawing in his net, he began now to haul back the power that Seeker had taken.

"We are all Noman's legacy, Seeker. We are all necessary for the protection of the All and Only."

"No! I won't believe it!"

"If you destroy the last of the savanters, you leave the All and Only to the mercy of the Assassin."

"Noman has given me the power. I do as he commands."

"You think your power comes from Noman? Think again, Seeker. Noman is mortal, just as I am mortal. The power you have been given has no limits."

It was true. Seeker saw again the bright light shining from within the Garden and knew that this was the power that had existed before the world came into being. He heard again the voice in the Garden crying to him.
Save me!

The humming song of the Great Embrace had never ceased. Now he found himself too making small sounds, the beginning of the same song. He licked his lips and felt how dry they were. Manlir knelt before him, gazing at him, and little by little he was growing young again.

"We need each other, Seeker. We each have our parts to play."

Seeker found he no longer possessed the clear killing rage that had driven him across the land in pursuit of his prey. And if he was not to kill the savanter before him, what was he to do with him?

End this charade. Put a stop to the Great Embrace.