RagnarokâThe Final Winter
It seemed strange to wake without a weapon, though for some reason I cannot explain, that was the first morning on which I had felt so. After the destruction of
Terminus Est
I had slept at the sacking of Baldanders's castle without fear, and later journeyed north without fear. Only the night before, I had slept upon the bare rock of the cliff top weaponless andâperhaps only because I had been so tiredâhad not been afraid. I now think that during all those days, and indeed during all the days since I had left Thrax, I had been putting the guild behind me and coming to believe that I was what those who encountered me took me forâthe sort of would-be adventurer I had mentioned the night before to Master Ash. As a torturer, I had not so much considered my sword a weapon as a tool and a badge of office. Now in retrospect it had become a weapon to me, and I had no weapon.
I thought about that as I lay upon my back on Master Ash's comfortable mattress, my hands behind my head. I would have to acquire another sword if I remained in the war-torn lands, and it would be wise to have one even if I turned south again. The question was whether to turn south or not. If I remained where I was, I risked being drawn into the fighting, where I might well be killed. But for me a return to the south would be even more dangerous. Abdiesus, the archon of Thrax, had no doubt posted a reward for my capture, and the guild would almost certainly procure my assassination if they learned I was anywhere near Nessus.
After vacillating over this decision for some time, as one does when only half-awake, I recalled Winnoc and what he had told me of the slaves of the Pelerines. Because it is a disgrace to us if our clients die after torment, we are taught a good deal of leech-craft in the guild; I thought I knew already at least as much as they. When I had cured the girl in the jacal, I had felt suddenly uplifted. The Chatelaine Mannea had a good opinion of me already and would have a better one when I returned with Master Ash.
A few moments before, I had been disturbed because I lacked a weapon. Now I felt I had oneâresolution and a plan are better than a sword, because
a man whets his own edges on them. I threw off the blankets, noticing then for the first time, I think, how soft they were. The big room was cold but filled with sunlight; it was almost as though there were suns on all four sides, as though all the walls were east walls. I walked naked to the nearest window and saw that undulating field of white I had vaguely noted the evening before.
It was not a mass of cloud but a plain of ice. The window would not open, or if it would, I could not solve the puzzle of its mechanism; but I put my face close to the glass and peered downward as well as I could. The Last House rose, as I had seen before, from a high hill of rock. Now this hilltop alone remained above the ice. I went from window to window, and the view from each was the same. Going back to the bed that had been mine, I pulled on my trousers and boots, and slung my cloak about my shoulders, hardly knowing what it was I did.
Master Ash appeared just as I finished dressing. “I hope I do not intrude,” he said. “I heard you walking up here.”
I shook my head.
“I did not want you to become disturbed.”
Without my willing it, my hands had gone to my face. Now some foolish part of me became aware of my bristling beard. I said, “I meant to shave before putting on my cloak. That was stupid of me. I haven't shaved since I left the lazaret.” It was as though my mind were trudging across the ice, leaving my tongue and lips to get along as best they might.
“There is hot water here, and soap.”
“That's good,” I said. And then, “If I go downstairs ⦔
That smile again. “Will it be the same? The ice? No. You are the first to have guessed. May I ask how you did it?”
“A long time agoâno, only a few months, actually, though it seems like such a long time nowâI went to the Botanic Gardens in Nessus. There was a place called the Lake of Birds, where the bodies of the dead seemed to remain fresh forever. I was told it was some property of the water, but I wondered even then that there should be so much power in water. There was another place too, that they called the Jungle Garden, where the leaves were greener than I have ever known leaves to beânot a bright green but dark with greenness, as if the plants could never use all the energy the sun poured down. The people there seemed not of our time, though I could not say if they were of the past, or the future, or some third thing that is neither. They had a little house. It was much smaller than this, but this reminds me of it. I've thought often of the Botanic Gardens since I left them, and sometimes I've wondered if their secret were not that the time never changed in the Lake of Birds, and that one moved forward or backwardâhowever it might beâwhen walking the path of the Jungle Garden. Am I perhaps speaking overmuch?”
Master Ash shook his head.
“Then when I was coming here, I saw your house at the top of this hill.
But when I climbed to it, it was gone, and the valley below was not as I remembered it.” I did not know what else to say, and fell silent.
“You are correct,” Master Ash told me. “I have been put here to observe what you see about you now. The lower stories of my home, however, reach into older periods, of which yours is the oldest.”
“That seems a great wonder.”
He shook his head. “It is almost more wonderful that this spur of rock has been spared by the glaciers. The tops of peaks far higher are submerged. It is sheltered by a geographic pattern so subtle that it could only be achieved by accident.”
“But it too will be covered at last?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“And what then?”
“I shall leave. Or rather, I shall leave some time before it occurs.”
I felt a surge of irrational anger, the same emotion I had sometimes known as a boy when I could not make Master Malrubius understand my questions. “I meant, what of Urth?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. What you see is the last glaciation. The surface of the sun is dull now; soon it will grow bright with heat, but the sun itself will shrink, giving less energy to its worlds. Eventually, should anyone come and stand upon the ice, he will see it only as a bright star. The ice he stands upon will not be that which you see but the atmosphere of this world. And so it will remain for a very long time. Perhaps until the close of the universal day.”
I went to another window and looked out again on the expanse of ice. “Will this happen soon?”
“The scene you see is many thousands of years in your future.”
“But before this, the ice must have come from the south.”
Master Ash nodded. “And down from the mountaintops. Come with me.”
We descended to the second level of the house, which I had scarcely noticed when I had come upstairs the night before. The windows were far fewer there, but Master Ash placed chairs before one and indicated that we would sit and look out. It was as he had saidâice, lovely in its purity, crept down the mountainsides to war with the pines. I asked if this too were far in the future, and he nodded once more. “You will not live to see it again.”
“But so near that the life of a man will nearly reach it?”
He twitched his shoulders and smiled beneath his beard. “Let us say it is a thing of degree. You will not see this. Nor will your children, nor theirs. But the process has already begun. It began long before you were born.”
I knew nothing of the south, but I found myself thinking of the island people of Hallvard's story, the precious little sheltered places with a growing season, the hunting of the seals. Those islands would not hold men and their families much longer. The boats would scrape over their stony beaches for the last time.
“My wife, my children, my children, my wife.”
“At this time, many of your people are already gone,” Master Ash continued. “Those you call the cacogens have mercifully carried them to fairer worlds. Many more will leave before the final victory of the ice. I am myself, you see, descended from those refugees.”
I asked if everyone would escape.
He shook his head. “No, not everyone. Some would not go, some could not be found. No home could be found for others.”
For some time I sat looking out at the beleaguered valley and trying to order my thoughts. At last I said, “I have always found that men of religion tell comforting things that are not true, while men of science recount hideous truths. The Chatelaine Mannea said you were a holy man, but you appear to be a man of science, and you said your people had sent you to our dead Urth to study the ice.”
“The distinction you mention no longer holds. Religion and science have always been matters of faith in something. It is the same something. You are yourself what you call a man of science, so I talk of science to you. If Mannea were here with her priestesses, I would talk differently.”
I have so many memories that I often become lost among them. Now as I looked at the pines, waving in a wind I could not feel, I seemed to hear the beating of a drum. “I met another man who said he was from the future once,” I said. “He was greenânearly as green as those treesâand he told me that his time was a time of brighter sun.”
Master Ash nodded. “No doubt he spoke truly.”
“But you tell me that what I see now is but a few lifetimes away, that it is part of a process already begun, and that this will be the last glaciation. Either you are a false prophet or he was.”
“I am not a prophet,” answered Master Ash, “nor was he. No one can know the future. We are speaking of the past.”
I was angry again. “You told me this was only a few lifetimes away.”
“I did. But you, and this scene, are past events for me.”
“I am not a thing of the past! I belong to the present.”
“From your own viewpoint you are correct. But you forget I cannot see you from your viewpoint. This is my house. It is through my windows that you have looked. My house strikes its roots into the past. Without that I should go mad here. As it is, I read these old centuries like books. I hear the voices of the long dead, yours among them. You think that time is a single thread. It is a weaving, a tapestry that extends forever in all directions. I follow a thread backward. You will trace a color forward, what color I cannot know. White may lead you to me, green to your green man.”
Not knowing what to say, I could only mutter that I had conceived of time as a river.
“Yesâyou came from Nessus, did you not? And that was a city built about a river. But it was once a city by the sea, and you would do better to think of time as a sea. The waves ebb and flow, and currents run beneath them.”
“I would like to go downstairs,” I said. “To return to my own time.”
Master Ash said, “I understand.”
“I wonder if you do. Your time, if I have heard you rightly, is that of this house's highest story, and you have a bed there, and other necessary things. Yet when you are not overwhelmed by your labors you sleep here, according to what you have told me. Yet you say this is nearer my time than your own.”
He stood up. “I meant that I too flee the ice. Shall we go? You will want food before you begin the long trip back to Mannea.”
“We both will,” I said.
He turned to look at me before he started down the stair. “I told you I could not go with you. You have discovered for yourself how well hidden this house is. For all who do not walk the path correctly, even the lowest story stands in the future.”
I caught both his arms behind him in a double lock and used my free hand to search him for weapons. There were none, and though he was strong, he was not as strong as I had feared he might be.
“You plan to carry me to Mannea. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Master, and we'll have a great deal less trouble if you will go willingly. Tell me where I can find some ropeâI don't want to have to use the belt of your robe.”
“There is none,” he told me.
I bound his hands with his cincture, as I had first planned. “When we are some distance from here,” I said, “I will loose you if you will give me your word to behave well.”
“I made you welcome in my house. What harm have I done you?”
“Quite a bit, but that doesn't matter. I like you, Master Ash, and I respect you. I hope that you won't hold what I am doing to you against me any more than I hold what you have done to me against you. But the Pelerines sent me to fetch you, and I find I am a certain sort of man, if you understand what I mean. Now don't go down the steps too fast. If you fall, you won't be able to catch yourself.”
I led him to the room to which he had first taken me and got some of the hard bread and a package of dried fruit. “I don't think of myself as one anymore,” I continued, “but I was brought up asâ” It was at my lips to say
torturer
, but I realized (then, I think, for the first time) that it was not quite the correct term for what the guild did and used the official one instead. “âas a Seeker for Truth and Penitence. We do what we have said we will do.”