Quest for the King (41 page)

The prophet called loudly from beside the pillar, his voice ringing
and echoing through the temple. "Do not ignite the fire! Your line of
retreat has been cut of"

It was true. The line planned to hold for the retreat was in total
disarray, so densely had the goblins filled the temple. The soldiers
quickly withdrew their torches.

The colonel looked back, wondering whether he should return to
remarshal the troops, but upon seeing the solid press of goblin bodies
he decided to stay put and protect the queen and the children. He
paused to take stock, silently cursing himself for not anticipating what
could happen. The tide of goblins behind them grew stronger and
began pressing them in the direction of the altar.

Again the prophet's voice rang out. "Remember, fire does not harm
them. Only hail and water dissolve them into oblivion. You need your
retreat, or you will be cut off!"

Colonel Integredad raised his voice. "Lieutenant Kosti! Call your
men together! Have your bugler call the retreat when you are ready!"

From deep inside the temple came the cry. "It will take time, sir! We are in confusion and disarray! I will sound the assemble and
extend our line to meet your own!"

Cut off from the rest, the colonel's party was a small island of
soldiers and leaders in a dense sea of goblins. With pressure all round
them it was even difficult to remain on their feet. The colonel ordered
them to form a square and to keep their shields together.

"Kurt! Get the girls behind us. Men-form the flanks! Girls-stick
with your backs to her majesty, Wesley and myself. You two-Breen
and Chasio-stand between the girls and watch out for them. Do not
separate or be driven from us!"

Kurt nodded, and they struggled into position. Facing the goblins
on four sides, they drew their swords. The goblins fell back a pace but
also drew swords, and soon the group was engaged in bitter hand-tohand combat.

What had begun as fairly easy incendiary activity extended itself
endlessly. Leaderless or not, there was now no want of goblins, and
the company dared not let their sword arms drop even for a moment.
Their breath came hard and sweat poured from them. The ground
became a mass of green slime, reeking of dead goblin as the slaughter
continued.

The queen fought with skill and determination. Wesley found once
again that the Sword of Geburah was a law to itself, and he sliced at
goblins with a dexterity that he had never learned. Colonel Integredad saw his sword strokes out of the corner of his eye and murmured, "He is far better than I thought!" Again and again members
of the little group would slip and fall, to rise with the slime of disintegrating goblin on them. But they had long since ceased to care.
They were too hard-pressed to worry about appearances.

Deep inside the temple, Duke Dukraz and Lieutenant Kosti decided
to divide their efforts. The prophet sat at the foot of the stone column,
his arms upraised. He seemed to be weakening himself, and yet an
invisible power was pouring from him in waves. His face was gray,
sweat trickling down it, and exhaustion was written over his visage.

"If anyone saves us it will be he," the lieutenant said. "But can he
last?"

Duke Dukraz nodded, suggesting, "Why do you not protect him till
his power takes effect? I will force my bulk through this mass and drag
back the separated soldiers. If you can regroup them here, we might
stand a chance!"

The duke's height enabled him to see clearly the groups of men
who had been scattered by the force of the goblin bodies. He forced
his way forward, picked up a man in each arm and dragged them
through the press to where the old and increasingly haggard prophet
sat. It was exhausting work, but he seemed tireless. The ranks of recovered soldiers grew, and they prepared to fight their way through
to the colonel.

But all was not well with the colonel's party. Do what they might,
they were out in the open and being driven toward the altar. The
goblins were still outflanking them, pressing into the temple on both
sides.

It was then that the colonel saw behind the altar what he had
dreaded to see. "Your majesty! The first army units have arrived! They
cannot yet press through the goblins, but they are here in force."

The colonel also saw the figure of a determined King Tobah Khukah pushing his way powerfully through the goblins, sword in hand.
"The king is coming for us," the queen said. She took a deep breath.
"Colonel, I once thought I could kill that body of his. It is all that is
left of him-a body without a soul. But seeing his body as he used
to be, I know I cannot kill IT!"

"Then I will slay it for you!" the colonel promised grimly.

Three soldiers lay dead, and others were wounded. For the first
time, Wesley's sword point dropped. "I never thought we would end
like this! Oh, Gaal, what have you brought us to? I guess this is the
end." The Sword of Geburah pulled his arm up with a jerk, and he
was at it again, whether he wanted to be or not.

In their hotel room in Hong Kong, Jane Friesen called to her
husband in the bathroom. "Darling, this wall television thing's begun
again, and the children are there!"

"Nonsense, darling. It's your imagination again. You know the hotel
simply does not have wall-size TV."

"Imagination, is it? This time you come and look for yourself."

"I'll be there in a minute."

"It's a regular battle scene. There's a woman in armor like Joan of
Arc! They're fighting in some sort of building. And there's a symmetrical structure-sort of Mayan. What can the children be up to?
There's been absolutely no time for any rehearsals."

When Fred Friesen entered the room, he stopped and stared at the strangely illuminated scene on the wall, and watched for several minutes in silence. Then he turned to the telephone and dialed a number.
"Housekeeping? Please send someone up to suite 1C immediately."

A moment later there was a knock on the door. Fred opened it to
admit an official who said, "I am the supervisor for the luxury suites.
How may we serve you, sir?"

"This wall television-or whatever it is," Fred pointed at the wall,
and the man stared.

"Is there something wrong with the wall, sir?"

"Well, don't you see?"

"See what, sir?"

"Don't you see the wall-size television with a scene of fighting? You
people told me there was no such thing in the hotel. If I'm paying
for this . . ."

A hint of anxiety appeared in the man's face. He glanced at Jane.
"Is he ... ? I see a blank wall, ma'am. Is your husband ... ?" He left
the sentenced uncompleted.

Jane smiled reassuringly, taking the man by the arm and moving
toward the door. "It will be all right. I'm sorry he called you." She
smiled again, winking and saying, "He gets like this occasionallytakes a drop too much. I can take care of things."

The man looked anxiously at Fred. "Thank you, ma'am. But you're
sure you don't need-"

"No. We'll be fine. You may go now. I'm so sorry we troubled you."

The supervisor left, closing the door behind him.

Lord Nasa joined the little group that was fighting so hard and told
them what was happening around the column. "It will take some time
for the defense to be organized."

He took his place beside them and fought on. Wesley stared at the
scene before him, horrified. Their retreat was cut off, and their hopes
against the goblins looked faint. His sword continued its expert play,
but his face was drawn with weariness. He murmured, "We've had it,"
and repeated the phrase a second time with finality. Inevitable death stared them in the face. Shaking his head slowly, he said, "I didn't
know such numbers were possible. I never thought-I never imagined ..." The sentence died on his lips.

"There's an absolute sea of them!" Kurt agreed breathlessly, his
voice an echo of Wesley's. "And there's that awful thing-the king's
body controlled by that powerful spirit of darkness."

But when he spoke next, Wesley's dreary voice produced a paradoxical reaction. "Well-let's die like men!"

He sounded like a ham actor playing a Shakespearean tragedy. His
voice was mournful, so funereally resigned that it touched an electric
button in Kurt. To the surprise of everyone, he first began to snigger,
then, unable to do anything else, burst into peals of laughter. Wesley's
remark lifted darkness and despair from him, awakening a reckless
resolve. And Kurt's laughter in turn began to put heart into the rest
of the defenders. Fear began to disperse, even as the goblins advanced, and a joyous abandon seized them.

"Let them come!" Kurt cried. "Let them all come! We'll show them."
Wesley glanced quickly at his brother, amazed at the change in him.
Then came a further change. He continued to laugh even as a battle
frenzy fell on him-the sort of frenzy you read about in ancient Celtic
tales. And the column of blue fire materialized over his head, resting
on him. They told him about it afterward, though he himself never
saw it. In fact, his memories of the whole incident were very vague.
He only knew that rage-a laughing rage-took possession of him.

He gripped his sword with a cold fury. Screaming cheerful defiance
at the approaching army and the whole goblin horde, he began what
could only be called a frenzied dance. He found himself hating the
evil behind the goblin horde, the menacing shadow itself. To the
goblins he slaughtered, his dance was a dance of death. They flung
themselves at him but could not touch him. With every sweeping slice
of his sword he killed, dispatching scores of goblins and an occasional
venturesome soldier. He converted fighting into a wild ballet-leaping over their heads, somersaulting in a weird and deadly frolic of
unmitigated slaughter. On and on the dance continued as he whirled in an exotic gambol of ominous beauty.

Lord Nasa glanced at the blue column above him and grinned.
"Risano's frenzy is on him. The dance is not Kurt's, but Risano's."

Armed with lances, swords and daggers, the goblins slashed at whatever they could see. Wesley was forced to let the sword have its way
again, but his heart was not in what he was doing. Every eye was now
on the horrid king, who was rushing closer as though the goblin mass
pushed them into his arms.

The unnatural creature in the dead king's body aimed, they
thought, at seizing and killing the queen. But it found itself confronted by a determined Colonel Integredad, who engaged it with vigor
and skill. With parry and thrust, clashes and clangs, with yells and
gasps, their duel was joined. But the colonel soon found his sword
strokes were inferior to those of the creature he faced.

Yet he was not entirely outclassed. Swords flashed in rhythmical
strokes. In spite of the creature's skill, it seemed that with every sword
stroke more wounds were inflicted on the body it inhabited. Yet
wounds made no difference to it. The body was able to fight with no
sign of weakening. Even a thrust clean through its heart had not the
slightest effect. The colonel was dismayed, for the body never bled.
He was not fighting the king, but an unnaturally animated corpse.

Dismayed, he fought on, his eyes widening. Then, quite suddenly,
foam spurned from between his lips in a shriek of disgust and the
same frenzy of battle fell on him that had fallen on Kurt. Swiftly his
sword strokes began to outclass those of his rival, eluding his opponent's sword and shield alike. A moment later he severed the body's
right arm-its sword arm-and with a second unbelievably swift blow
its left arm. The left arm fell to the ground, its shield still strapped to
it.

When the body finally fell backward, a Qadarlike creature erupted
from the king's corpse. The colonel was knocked to the ground as the
beast shot into the sky with a terrible shriek, like an angry rock hurled
from a catapult. A chorus of Qadar shrieks answered from far above,
and by the early dawn light the fighters glimpsed the dark creatures circling high in the heavens.

Then from deep within the temple the prophet vented a powerful
but inarticulate cry of triumph. And at his cry a wide avenue opened
up between the pillar of passage and the queen's party. Goblins were
mercilessly pressed to the sides and crushed into liquid against the
walls of the temple. Power held the remainder back, allowing no more
to enter the temple.

The trumpeter sounded the retreat, and the colonel called to the
queen and the rest of the soldiers, "Now is the time to RUN! Wesley
and I will cover you and will fight on!"

The queen, the girls and three of the soldiers turned and ran. "The
rest of you form a line! We will let them push us back gradually while
the temple is set on fire."

The death of "the king creature" had disheartened the attackers,
and their opposition began to falter. Then rain began to pour, and
the ferocity of their onslaught steadily diminished.

"Has the fire been started?" the colonel asked.