The Last Book Of Swords : Shieldbreaker’s Story (9 page)

      
Karel was far from being the only high-ranking defector from the palace. A number of others could claim with justification to have been quite high in Tasavaltan councils. These important people in particular kept trying to get closer to Vilkata, though with violent gestures he did his best to keep them all at a little distance. With touching remorse they tried to plead with him for his forgiveness for their own evil deeds, their years of support of that vile renegade Prince Mark, for their protracted and stubborn and incomprehensible opposition to the Dark King’s beneficent rule.

      
Now that their eyes had been opened by the glorious Sword of Glory—so some of them now loudly assured their new Master—they could see the light of truth, appreciate the proper and natural order that ought to hold in human affairs.

      
Karel himself was among the first converts to locate his new Master outside the palace. The fat old man ran up gasping and wheezing, then knelt down trembling, to give thanks for the Dark King’s survival; the fact that he prayed to Ardneh evidently did not strike his convert’s mind as inconsistent; Vilkata himself was faintly amused.

      
And then Karel began to do his best magically to heal the sting of the wounds made by the Sword-fragments. In this he was soon more successful than any of the demons had been.

      
But dominating Vilkata’s thoughts amid the prayerful babble of this swelling human mob was the realization of how soon these turncoats were going to turn on him again. With his empty sockets the Dark King glared balefully at them all, Karel included. Nothing was more certain than that, with the Mindsword gone, most of these contemptible scum would be his mortal enemies again in a matter of only a few days—in some cases only hours would pass before there was reversion.

      
That posed a grim prospect for him and his plans; but there was one aspect of it which he could enjoy in anticipation: When the time of their recovery came, these sycophants would regard their present behavior with a loathing as great as that they now expressed for their own supposed sins in helping Mark.

      
Vilkata questioned Karel about General Rostov, Prince Mark’s chief military commander, and learned that Rostov could not be immediately accounted for. The General had been on an inspection tour of the northern provinces, and, like the Prince and Princess, would have to be dealt with somehow later.

      
The Dark King’s next question was about Ben of Purkinje.

      
With the exception of Mark himself, Ben was undoubtedly the individual whose appearance in an enslaved state would have most gladdened the conqueror’s heart—but Vilkata had already been told, and had received independent confirmation of the fact from several sources, that Ben also had been out of town when the attack struck. Karel gave assurances, and Vilkata’s other informants agreed, that Ben had gone with the Prince and Princess, and was most likely with them still. His home in town had already been visited, and he was not there.

      
By this time Vilkata, now surrounded by a thick swarm of anxiously protective demons and a cheering mob of human converts, had almost completely recovered his wits and his nerve. His usually savage temper was returning too. What to do with these eagerly worshipful humans? In his sullen anger the elder wizard considered ordering them, while their fanaticism was still at its height, to kill each other off—but, on the verge of issuing that command, he had what struck him as a much better idea.

      
Presently, with the idea of deriving as much benefit as possible from their enthusiasm before it faded, Vilkata ordered the creation, from the ranks of the palace’s converted soldiers, of several assassination squads. These were to sally out into the countryside, targeting whatever unconverted Tasavaltan leaders they might find there, especially Prince Mark. There was at least a fair chance, the Dark King supposed, that before the Sword-based conversion of these troops wore off one of them might actually manage to destroy Mark. At worst, they would be scattered, and at a considerable distance from himself, when their current adoration began to turn to hatred.

* * *

      
Vilkata found he was still unable to free himself totally of the lingering notion that, despite his logical deductions regarding Sightblinder, despite the reassurances of Karel and of Arridu and others, his opponent in the armory might after all, somehow, have been Wood—or one of the other possibilities, which bore thinking about even less. Shuddering with the recent memory of that awesome presence, the Dark King could not connect it with any mere sniveling Tasavaltan princeling.

      
But when Vilkata questioned his retinue on the subject of Wood, he soon learned from one of his demon aides, or from some converted soldier or magician, that about a year ago that master wizard had fallen to his doom and death before the power of Shieldbreaker in the hands of Prince Mark’s nephew Zoltan.

      
Had Vilkata still retained the state of mind in which he had begun the attack, had he not been obsessed by the fresh loss of the Mindsword, the news of Wood’s death would have been reason for celebration—one important competitor eliminated. Vilkata also heard, with some satisfaction, that the Sword Wayfinder had been destroyed by the Sword of Force at the same time that Wood fell.

      
An hour ago the news of that destruction, too, would have afforded the Dark King satisfaction, because that recently it had still been his ambitious plan eventually to acquire and somehow eliminate all of the Swords except the Mindsword.

      
If the report concerning Wayfinder were true, then he now had good evidence that five of the original Twelve Blades had already been destroyed—Townsaver and Doomgiver some years ago, and now Wayfinder, Dragonslicer, and the Mindsword. Yet seven more—Shieldbreaker, Sightblinder, Coinspinner, Farslayer, Woundhealer, Stonecutter, and Soulcutter—were still in existence somewhere.

      
Of course it was Shieldbreaker which Vilkata most dreaded, and most craved to possess—as would any prudent man in his current position. He could still feel the shock of that Sword-smashing impact running up his arm. His minor wounds still stung despite the demon’s, and even Karel’s, ministrations.

      
But there was hope. Now a human convert physician, the latest to have served the royal family in the palace, was in attendance on the Master. The woman was putting on salves and urging patience.

* * *

      
… Yes, when one was setting out to subdue the world, Shieldbreaker had to be one’s Sword of choice, even beyond such fearful tools as Sightblinder and Soulcutter. As had just been so violently demonstrated, the Sword of Force was quite capable of nullifying any other weapon, magical or physical, that might be used against its owner. Even the Sword of Vengeance, which otherwise, launched from the hands of a determined enemy anywhere in the world, could end his own much-hated life at any moment. Meanwhile, the ugliest weapon of all, the Tyrant’s Blade, was a wild card with the potential of overthrowing all the calculations of Vilkata or any other human.

      
Ultimately the Sword of Force was going to present a special problem, even after Vilkata came into control of it, as he thought he eventually must do if he was ever going to rule the world—a special case, because so far he had been able to conceive of no way in which Shieldbreaker itself could ever be destroyed. Even had he eventually been able, by means of the Mindsword, to perfect his mastery over the thoughts and bodies of every thinking being on the Earth, yet the Sword of Force, however he might attempt to hide or bury it, would present a perpetual danger to his rule.

      
There might be discoverable some method, though, by which it would be possible to eliminate Shieldbreaker. He did not consider the matter hopeless—but at the moment, of course, he was a totally Swordless man, and had to make his plans under all the disadvantages being in that state entailed.

      
For a minute or two he had been thinking about Swords, concentrating on the problems they posed to distract himself from the pain whilst his small wounds were cauterized by the palace physician, with Karel’s help.

      
Presently Vilkata, now thoroughly and protectively surrounded by a clamorous escort of outraged demons and human converts—those of his human worshippers who could best tolerate being near the demons—decided that, Swords or not, he should delay no longer his re-entry of the palace. Certainly he was not going to conquer Tasavalta, or prevail against his superbly armed assailant of the armory, by huddling indecisively out here in the street.

      
But before he passed into the building again, the Dark King dispatched a small army of human converts ahead of him—he was determined to get as much use as possible out of these people while he could—to scout and act as a temporary occupying force.

* * * * * *

      
Of course, since Sightblinder was missing from the Sword-vault and presumably had already been taken up and used by an enemy, no one could be sure that the same enemy was not still lurking nearby somewhere.

      
The demon Arridu and the great converted wizard commiserated with their lord and Master.

      
It was Karel who came up with the suggestion that any one person armed with two Swords, especially Shieldbreaker and Sightblinder, must almost certainly be undergoing psychic difficulties from the strain; the problem would be worse if the simultaneous use of the Blades continued for any length of time.

      
This was faint comfort to the Dark King. “But who was it, really, old man? Can you tell me that?”

      
The old wizard discounted the idea that Mark himself could actually be near, in the palace or even in the city; the royal couple were known to be at some little distance.

      
Then Karel suggested that Vilkata’s sole opponent in the armory had very likely been young Prince Stephen. Who else known to have been present would have been able to gain access to the Swords? Rostov had been away.

      
The fact of Stephen seemed inevitable.

      
Karel went on: “The Mindsword having been so unfortunately denied us, as you say, great and dear Master, we must try to find some other way to make plain to the lad the truth of your superior nature. Failing that, of course, we must find some way to get those Swords away from him. He is badly misguided, but there must be some way.”

      
“I eagerly await your discovery of an effective method.” Vilkata looked round him in all directions. “Meanwhile, I am not going to be kept out here on the street because of the mere possibility of trouble.”

      
Even as Vilkata re-entered the palace, this time going in through the main entrance from the street, he was met by a minor demon bearing electrifying news: the confirmation that at least one intact Sword, Stonecutter, was still available in the deep armory. This information was whispered in the Dark King’s ear by a messenger sent out by Arridu, who himself was mounting jealous guard upon the find.

      
This was no news to the Dark King, but now he decided that he had better pick up at once the Sword which was available.

      
That the enemy had not taken Stonecutter was shrewdly regarded as evidence that the enemy might already be having trouble carrying Swords. This in turn argued for the young Prince rather than some more experienced and capable wizard or warrior.

      
Despite his eagerness to return to the underground storeroom of the Swords, the Dark King thoughtfully took care to disarm himself completely before doing so. He would rely upon his escort to deal with any problem that needed weaponry to solve. Now, let any enemy armed with Shieldbreaker dare to threaten him!

      
No enemy could be detected when the Dark King again descended to the level of the armory. No Sword-phantom appeared—at least he thought not. Of course, with Sightblinder one could never be sure.

* * *

      
Vilkata, on being welcomed and escorted back into the conquered palace of his enemies by a horde of joyous converts, was soon able to bring Stonecutter peacefully under his control.

      
Bitterly, Vilkata again cursed his failure to seize Shieldbreaker, or at least Sightblinder, in the first rush of his surprise attack.

* * *

      
Having opened the vault in the Sword-chamber unmolested, the Dark King stood staring earnestly at the sole intact Blade before him—yes, this was undoubtedly Stonecutter. He pulled the Sword of Siege unceremoniously out of its rack, looked at the small white wedge-sign on the hilt, and hacked a notch or two in floor and wall, just by way of final demonstration. Stone slid and crumbled away like butter before the Blade, which in action made its own hammering noise, heavier and slower than that of Shieldbreaker.

      
Vilkata tried to think whether there was any way in which this remaining Sword could be of notable benefit to him. Karel and Arridu, when consulted, could suggest nothing. Rather regretfully, the Dark King had to concede that Stonecutter had no immediate use. For the time being the Sword of Siege could stay here, under close guard and protection.

      
Meanwhile, other problems demanded the Dark King’s immediate attention. Chief among these were the implications of the loss of the Mindsword. He understood that he had to put on a bold front in the presence of his subordinates, many of whom probably did not yet realize that Skulltwister was gone. Those who did were themselves still under the dazzling influence of its power, and so Vilkata thought they might not be able to grasp the importance of the loss. And, by the time they did, they would be tempted to rebellion.