The Lady's Man (50 page)

“You will
try
to control it. But you will only succeed as long as you remember one thing above all else: He is not Mayfall. Mayfall is dead. He rots in the underworlds. The demons sup on his soul. What you see as Mayfall is no more him than any of the illusions that Myral showed you. He may look like him. He may act like him. But Mayfall is gone.”

“I know that Elder. Myral has explained that to me.”

“Piffle! Ignore the old fool's words! He is a man and a wizard both. Neither of which is what you need right now. They think too much and feel too little. You need to hear it from a woman. You need to feel it.”

The old fool for his part didn't seem too surprised or offended by her words. He was already on the wagon and sitting on one of the piles of straw, testing it out for softness. Obviously he planned on coming with him – and resting along the way.

“You killed him. You watched him die. And no matter what else you see you have to remember that. Cling to it. Not the memory, not the knowledge.
The feeling
. Remember what you felt as you saw him die. Tell me of that moment. Tell me of what you saw and what you felt.”

“But -.”

“Tell me!”

“It was dark.” But Yorik didn't mean the time of day. She had to understand that. He meant the emotions that had been coursing through him. The darkness of his heart.

“I know just as I know you hate that thought. But it is human and it is the truth, and that is what you must cling to. So tell me of his passing. Of how you killed him. Of what you felt when you watched him die. Tell me everything.”

“I hurt him first. He was out of magic, drained and hiding and I shot him with an arrow. And then with another and another.”

The words came out of him, slowly at first. Not just because they were a confession, but because they shamed him. He had acted like an animal. Like something far worse than that. And all semblance of the man he was had gone from him. But Annalisse demanded the truth and he had to give it to her. So little by little he told her the truth of that day. And when he'd finished she surprised him.

“So you stopped? Why?”

“Because I knew that there was no more to gain by hurting him. My hatred had died.” Or at least it had until Mayfall had returned from the dead.

“No, there was another reason.” Annalisse's eyes bored straight into him. “You knew he was dying. Yes?”

“Yes.” Yorik admitted the truth of her words.

“So you knew then that there was no hope for him?”

“Yes.” And she was right. He had known he was doomed. Doomed to die in agony.

“And then you tried to end his suffering quickly?”

“Yes.” Yorik nodded.

“Because again you knew there was no hope?”

“Yes.”

“And then you saw the demon drive its talons deep into his eyes and he went limp?”

“Yes.” Yorik nodded again.

“Then you watched him die?”

“I thought so, but I didn't know for certain, and I was busy. And when the demon had been vanquished he was gone.” It was that disappearance that left him with doubt. The wizard had vanished.

“Of course he was gone. When he died the Nameless took the last of him. Body and soul. It consumed everything that he was, just as he had always feared, and he couldn't resist at the end. That was why you were able to defeat him. Because by the time you battled he was already so close to the end that he was spending too much effort trying to contain the Nameless to worry about you.”

“But none of that matters. The only thing that does is that you watched him die. Bit by bit you killed him. And well before the end you knew that there was nothing he could do to remain in this world. There was no survival possible. Even before the demon finished the job. Isn't that so?”

“Yes.”

“And that is the knowledge you must cling to. The memory. The certainty of his death. Because he is dead. When you see the thane you must remind yourself of Mayfall's demise. Of the arrows within his broken body. Of the basilisk venom burning through him. Of the demon plunging its talons deep into his eyes. Concentrate on those things and you will know that the thane is not him. It is just an echo.”

“I will do that.”

And he would, because Yorik knew she was right. No matter how many times he was told that Mayfall was dead, a part of him kept thinking that he was alive. That he had somehow survived. He had seen him standing before him. But when he thought on what he had done to the man, of what he had seen, he also knew that there was no way he could have survived. He knew he had killed him. No one could have survived.

“Good. See to it that you do. Because if you cannot, if you allow the thane to fool you as it fools itself, you will lose. We will all lose.”

“And you old fool.” She turned her attention to Myral who was already making himself comfortable on the straw. “Keep reminding him every time he doubts”.

The wizard just laughed, already thinking about sleep. It was probably a little humiliating to be carried around in a wagon, but the wizard was just as tired as he was.

“And Captain, see to it that these two eat well and are not disturbed as they sleep. They need it.”

“I shall Elder.”

Surprised, Yorik turned as he recognised the voice, and saw Captain Avenall standing there, preparing to mount up. It had been a long time since he had seen him, and when he had he recalled he had been rude to him as he would normally never be. He had called him slow.

“Captain, I was short with you when last we met, and I would give my apologies for that if I might.”

“For which I thank you, but there is no need. Destroy this thane and I will be more than pleased. My rangers too.”

“Now climb on board so that we can be off.”

Yorik did as he was asked and even managed to stretch out on the hay, though it felt like an ignoble thing to do. He should be riding. But at the same time he knew the others were right. He was tired and he needed his rest. After all, in the morning he would be fighting for not just his life but for the lives of millions of others. He could not allow himself to lose.

Chapter Thirty Eight.

“Now remember, under no circumstances can you afford to strike at the thane. Annalisse was completely right about that.”

Myral repeated his warning for about the thousandth time that morning and Yorik wondered why he wasn't yet tired of saying it. He was tired of listening to it. But at least while he'd been listening he'd been thinking. And he'd come up with a plan.

“I know, which is why I have decided not to carry any weapons with me. You will hold them for me please.”

To prove his words Yorik picked up the pile of belts and blades that were sitting on the ground beside his old armour and handed them to the wizard while all around people gasped.

It was madness. But Yorik didn't even whisper his protest to himself and he didn't let his doubts stop him from doing what was necessary. So he handed over his great sword to the wizard along with all his other weapons. He hated doing it. He hated the thought of being unarmed. But the others were right. His weapons were useless and even with them in hand he was as good as unarmed. But worse they would slow him down. He was lighter and faster without them. But most dangerous of all, he might be tempted to use them. He would be tempted. That could not happen. This was the best way he had of making sure that didn't happen. Words had to be his weapons, and magic and trickery his shield. It wasn’t the traditional armour of a paladin but he would adapt. Besides of all the weapons he had carried only the great sword was truly his. The rest had been picked up in Hammeral when they had passed through it. They were the Order's weapons, plucked from his fallen brothers. They should go back to the Order where they might do some good.

“Child, sometimes you surprise me with your wisdom.” Myral happily accepted his weapons, and Yorik gathered he approved of his decision.

“Sometimes I surprise myself.”

“And I'll be surprised if this armour doesn't burst. Think slim thoughts.” Even as he said it Ascollia was tightening the straps to the chain and scale vest and threatening to cut off his breathing.

Of course some proper armour would have been welcome too, Yorik thought. Not this light weight ranger armour Ascollia was trying to squeeze him into. Especially when he kept making disparaging remarks about his size.

“You know we had to find the largest set of chain we could find and then get the smiths to enlarge it just for you, and it's still too tight. You need to eat less!”

“I was happy with my own armour!”

Which was an understatement and then some. He was comfortable in his normal armour. It was a part of him. This ranger armour was too flimsy. He felt vulnerable in it. Almost naked. But it was light and he had to be fast. Faster than ever before, and that without the Lady's help. This was the best alternative.

“And we were happy too, believe me. It made you and the other paladins look so clumsy that we were taking wagers on how long it would be before you fell over. Now suck in that stomach!”

Yorik did as he was told, reluctantly, and the elf pulled the straps tight and knotted them properly.

“You know I'm not going to do too well if I can't breathe!” But Yorik's protest fell on deaf ears as the ranger worked diligently at the straps. He should have expected nothing else.

“You don't have to do this.”

Genivere was beside him of course, and he liked that. A man should have some beauty in his life before he left to face his end. And he was infinitely grateful to have found her alive and waiting for him at the camp when they'd arrived. In fact he had probably made a fool of himself on seeing her smiling face. Certainly he'd lost control of his tongue for a while.

She looked worried, he thought and though it was selfish and unworthy he liked that she worried for him. Though of course he hated it too. He hated especially that she feared more for him because she had so recently lost her father. But this wasn't the time for that.

“Yes I do. I may not have created this nightmare – ” By the Lady was it good to be able to say that! “ – But I am a paladin of the Order of the Lady. This is my place. And I am the only one who can do this. As long as the thane thinks he's Mayfall and Mayfall remembers me as an enemy, I will be the only one he will come for.”

Strangely though, he didn't wish it otherwise. Though he was anxious about what was coming, and he knew he could well be killed, in the end he was clean again. His honour had been restored; his soul redeemed. It had been so close. He had nearly lost everything. But he was the Lady's paladin again. And live or die that mattered more.

“Oh you stubborn, stupid man!”

She turned away from him abruptly, and he suspected there were tears forming in her lovely big eyes. He didn't like that thought. So he reached out and grabbed her gently by the elbow and turned her back to face him.

“Genivere, this is what I am. I am a paladin of the Order of the Lady. And I must fight for that. I must fight to protect what is precious, always. And you are so very precious to me.”

It was true, just as it was true that his heart had soared when he had first seen her waiting for him at the camp. To know that she was alive had been a miracle. But to hear of her pain had been terrible. He could not hear that again.

“I am a man reborn into a dark and frightening world. My family is gone, my chapter is destroyed, many of my brothers in the Order are gone, and I must fight for what remains. And in this darkness I know only two things. The love of the Lady and your smile.”

“When I return I will ask for your heart and your hand as well.”

It probably wasn't the time to say such a thing, and it certainly wasn't the place with so many looking on, but it had to be said. But at least it stopped her tears and brought a flush to her cheeks and a smile to her lips.

“And what about me?” Myral interrupted them before anything more could be said. “Not a thought for the wizard who's hiked across the world with you, saved your life, healed your injuries and put up with your childish fits of pique?”

“Childish fits of pique?” That didn't seem fair to Yorik. “But your hand wizard isn't half so pretty!”

“Humph!”

“Besides, shouldn't you check with Annalisse first before making such improper suggestions?”

“Impertinent sprat!”

The wizard didn't seem too impressed with his wit, but Yorik knew he wasn't upset. Myral might grumble and complain a lot, but he was actually a kindly sort and a good companion.

“Just be sure you remember your spells.”

“I will never forget the spells.” And he wouldn't. He'd been practising them day and night since they'd left the Land of The Sky. Myral had insisted.

He was no wizard. But between his knowledge and their relentless pressure, they thought he at least had the skill of an adept in those few shapes he had learnt.

An adept against a thane. An unarmed paladin in inadequate armour against the Nameless. It was an even more unequal contest than a mouse against a lion. But of course if he did everything right, it wouldn't be a contest at all. That was the gamble that everything depended on. That a paladin trained to fight could put aside his warrior nature. That a man filled with pain could put aside his wrath for the one who had caused it.

And he would do it, Yorik told himself. Just as long as he kept reminding himself that the thane was not the one who had slaughtered his family. And as long as the thane didn't instantly see through his cheap tricks and slaughter him on the spot.

“Good. Then you're ready brother.”

Ascollia clapped him on the shoulder, and Yorik couldn't help but note that he looked a little red in the face. Obviously he'd been working hard on those straps.

“We hope!” Myral butted in and handed him the small wooden box. “You know the words.”

“I do, and you know to make yourselves scarce.”

And that was truly his worry. Not that he would lose, but that he would lose and they would be too near when the thane came and he would spot them. These few people were the closest thing he had left to family. They could not die.

“We'll do that.”

“Good. Remember I won't activate the box until the Lady tells me you're safe. So mount up.” It was extortion, but necessary. And it worked. They grumbled but still he watched them all take to their horses after loading up the wagon with his old armour and weapons. And then he watched them leave, heading back towards Andalia before he finally turned on his heels and began his march into the city. His march to death or victory. It was only a league and for once he was scarcely weighed down by his armour, but it seemed so much further.