Part 23 (2/2)
Reaching out, she placed one hand on the metal-clad shoulder of Hymneth the Possessed. The swordsman hunted in vain for evidence of handcuffs or leg shackles.
And then she smiled.
Simna's lower jaw dropped. Beside him, Ehomba said nothing. Hunkapa Aub and Ahlitah waited behind the two men, confused and uncertain, not knowing how to react or what to do next.
To say that Hymneth was enjoying the effect the Visioness's actions had on his visitors was to understate the delight he hardly showed. ”As I told you, something of a transformation has taken place here in Ehl-Larimar.” Without taking his eyes from the stunned intruders, he murmured encouragingly to the woman standing by his side. ”Tell them-my dear.”
As it had been in the vision, her voice was molten gold, each syllable a chord in an infinite celestial cantata. ”I am sorry if you have gone to much trouble. It is true that when I was abducted by Hymneth I was overflowing with hatred for him and all that he might stand for. Brave men and women died on my behalf, trying to liberate me. For that I am now and forever will be sorry. At the time and for many months thereafter I grieved for them even as I hoped another might come who would deliver me.
”Imprisoned here, a 'guest' who was not permitted to leave, I was well treated. I kept my own counsel, and nursed my anger and loathing, until eventually it became a thing separate and apart from me. Once that happened, I was able to stand back from it and consider more dispa.s.sionately my surroundings.
Only then was I able to bring myself even to speak civilly with my captor. Only then did I come to appreciate his profound qualities.”
”Profound qual-” Simna whirled on Ehomba. ”Bruther, why don't you say something? Are you hearing this?”
Glancing down, the herdsman nodded. ”I am hearing it, friend Simna.”
Drawing herself up to her full height, the Visioness declaimed clearly. ”I have chosen to remain here of my own free will. As his amenable consort, Hymneth has offered me the co-regency of Ehl-Larimar. I have accepted. I regret any personal inconvenience this may have caused you, but you may console yourselves with the knowledge that you are free to remain or depart, as you see fit. You will not be harmed.”
Simna could not believe what he was hearing. ”He's drugged her! Or she's been ensorcelled! She's not free to voice her own mind. Break the hex, Etjole! Free her from this corrupting stupor so that she can speak the truth!”
The herdsman leaned slightly on his spear. ”No, Simna. I do not think she is suffering under a spell. I have been watching her posture, her lips, her eyes. She is herself and none other. The words she speaks are hers, and come from the heart as well as the mind. She truly means to remain here.”
”Then-everything we've gone through; the battles we've fought, the dangers we've overcome, the lands and towns and armies and seas we've struggled to pa.s.s at the repeated risk of our very lives, it's all been for nothing? For nothing?” When again his friend did not reply, the swordsman sat down heavily on the exquisite, highly polished gemstone floor. And then he began to laugh.
His laughter grew louder, and wilder, echoing through the length and breadth of the great hall. He began to rock back and forth, both arms wrapped around his stomach as the laughter spilled out of him in long, rolling waves. Only when he had come close to laughing himself insensate did the calmly foreboding voice from the throne speak again.
”Unlike the beauteous Themaryl, I hardly ever feel sorry for anyone. People make the lives they live. I regret to admit that in certain quarters of my kingdom I am not considered a compa.s.sionate ruler. But tonight, though I would like to laugh with you, mercenary, I find that I cannot. I can only-feel sorry for you.” He turned back to the silently staring Ehomba. ”So you see, necromancer from across the Semordria, if such it is that you are, you are defeated before you can begin. That which you came to fight for no longer exists. Your reason and rationale have evaporated, like smoke.” Steel-clad fingers reached out to cover the back of the Visioness Themaryl's perfect hand.
”Ordinarily, I would not be so generous to those who slink uninvited into my home, but my consort has spoken. You are free to leave, or stay, or do whatever you want. It is of no import to me. Enjoy the city if you like. Ehl-Larimar has much to offer the tired traveler.” He nodded in the direction of the silent old soldier. ”If you wish, Peregriff will find lodging for you tonight within the castle. Since I have no reason to deal with you as enemies, I suppose I might as well treat you as guests. Tomorrow you may dine with me. And with my incomparable, compliant consort.” Turning his hand, he lifted hers up in his, bent forward, and kissed it. Seeing this was enough to set Simna ibn Sind to laughing uncontrollably all over again.
”No.”
The seated swordsman's hysteria halted in mid-laugh. To the left of the throne, the impressive white eyebrows of General Peregriff narrowed ever so slightly. At the foot of the dais, tiny red eyes began to emerge and take shape within the cryptic depths of the cancerous black vapors.
Having started to rise from his throne, Hymneth the Possessed paused and peered across the reflective, lamplit floor. His voice was composed, even-but just the slightest bit perplexed.
”What did you say?”
”I said, no.” For the first time since the lamps had burst to life in the regal audience chamber, it was Etjole Ehomba who stepped forward. ”We cannot avail ourselves of your hospitality, or that of your kingdom.” Lowering the tip of his spear, he pointed slightly to his left. ”The Visioness Themaryl is coming with us.”
Hymneth's voice grew quietly, dangerously frosty. ”I am afraid I do not understand. She does not wish to go with you. She does not wish to return to Laconda or the life she knew there. She wishes to stay here with me. Of her own free will. You yourself acknowledged as much only moments ago.”
The herdsman nodded. He had come a long way and was very tired, as if he had spent days chasing runaway animals through the hills and gullies back of the village. ”When I first set out on this journey, not knowing how or when it would end or where it would take me, I did so because I had made a vow. A promise to a dying man who called himself Tarin Beckwith, of Laconda North. He made me swear not to rest until I returned the Visioness Themaryl to her home and family. This oath I reluctantly made. I have traveled far and at great expense of effort to fulfill that obligation. I intend to do so.”
The wide, helmeted head was shaking slowly from side to side. ”There is reason, and then there is insanity, but the likes of this I have never had to deal with before. Do you mean to tell me that in spite of her declared wishes to remain here you intend to take her back, by force if necessary?”
Ehomba nodded stoically. His voice never changed. ”By force if necessary.”
With the abruptness of a rogue wave shattering upon an unsuspecting sh.o.r.e, Hymneth the Possessed stood bolt upright before his throne and bellowed thunderously at the impious intruder.
”By Besune, this is worse than madness!”He was trembling with rage. ”In spite of all the sleeplessness you have caused me, I offer you your life, and you demand death!” Reaching out toward the intolerable interloper, he made a cup of his extended fingers. ”Since you so devoutly seek your doom, here it is, master of a doubtful magic. Here in this hand. Come and get it!”
Without a word, a grim-faced Ehomba let go of his spear. It had not yet struck the floor before he was running forward, reaching back over a shoulder to draw the sky-metal sword. A stunned Simna frantically began to scramble to his feet. Hunkapa Aub tensed, and the black litah let loose with a snarl that rattled the hanging banners high overhead. Rising to his full, dominating height before the throne, Hymneth the Possessed spread both arms wide to restrain the alerted Peregriff and s.h.i.+eld the startled Themaryl. Then he let loose with an inarticulate howl of his own as he flung one arm forward at the tall, rangy herdsman racing toward him.
The dart that had been concealed within the sleeve of his armor struck the onrus.h.i.+ng herdsman in his right shoulder. Without pausing, Ehomba reached up and pulled it free. Tossing it to one side, he showed no ill effects from the virulent poison it contained. Nor would he, thanks to the immunizing contents of his water bag, thoughtfully treated months ago by, as Simna was fond of saying, a long brother.
His gaze narrowing slightly, the ruler of Ehl-Larimar brought his other arm forward and uttered a word so loathsome and vile that the Visioness was compelled to clasp both hands to her ears to shut out the echo of it that lingered in the air. In response to his gesture, eyes now fully formed and ablaze, the two clouds of sooty vapor that had been hovering impatiently by his steel-booted feet ballooned to the size of black buffalo as they sped gleefully away from the dais to intercept the impudent, foolhardy human.
XXIII.
Ehomba met the onrus.h.i.+ng eromakadi head-on, without trying to dodge or step clear of their charge. In an instant he was enveloped in black cloud and completely obscured from view. Simna held his breath.
Even so, he was less agitated than his companions, who unlike him had not had the benefit of seeing the herdsman deal with eromakadi. But as the minutes pa.s.sed and nothing happened and Ehomba did not reappear, the swordsman found himself growing more and more uneasy.
Then a soft whistling became audible. It grew louder, until it dominated the room. The vaporous substance of the eromakadi began to twitch, then to jerk violently, and finally to shrink. Moments later everyone could see Ehomba, standing with sword in hand, inhaling and inhaling without seemingly pausing to breathe. Into his open mouth the eromakadi disappeared, sucked down like steam from a kettle traveling in reverse, until the last frantic, faintly mewling black tendril had been swallowed.
Without word or comment of any kind, an Ehomba none the apparent worse for the experience resumed his a.s.sault on the dais.
”An eromakasi!” Balling one hand into a fist, a surprised Hymneth raged at the onrus.h.i.+ng herdsman.
”What have you done with my pets, eromakasi?” Flinging his closed, armored hand forward, the Possessed opened his fingers the instant his arm was fully extended.
Ball lightning flew at Ehomba. It was olive green in hue and crackled with energy. Raising his blade, the herdsman parried the verdant globe. Deafening thunder rattled the reception hall. Simna and the others were momentarily blinded by the shower of green sparks that flew from the sky-metal sword.
Even as Ehomba was opposing this latest a.s.sault, the lofty figure seething before the throne of Ehl-Larimar was readying another. Hymneth continued to fling spheres of sickly green energy at his attacker as the herdsman persistently warded them off. In this manner Ehomba, though his approach was slowed by the need to fight off the tall sorcerer's successive attacks, sustained his advance on the throne.
As he drew nearer, the ball lightning flew more often. Employing reflexes honed from years of fighting off predators intent on stealing from the Naumkib flocks, he struck down one blazing a.s.sault after another.
The frenzy of emerald sparks that struck from his untiring blade outshone the far more subdued glow of the chamber's lamps.
Swinging the sword in short, deliberate arcs, he gained the first step, and then the second. If Hymneth the Possessed was growing anxious or uneasy, the evidence of such a condition remained his and his alone. His face remained hidden behind the magnificent helmet. His defense was as unremitting and incessant as Ehomba's advance, and he showed no sign of weakening or abandoning his position before the throne.
Surmounting the last step, Ehomba batted aside a lethal, crackling globe half his size and was swallowed up by the consequent deluge of rabid green sparks and shattered shafts of lightning. Emerging from this cataract of emerald energy, he brought his blade around in a low feint, then swung it up over his head and brought it straight down, edge on, with both hands. Hymneth the Possessed, Lord of Ehl-Larimar, was in the process of throwing another orb of lightning when he saw or sensed what his attacker intended.
Quickly raising both mailed arms over his head, he crossed his wrists and caught the descending sword in the V they formed.
Green and white sparks erupted from the point of contact and the concussive wave thus generated knocked Peregriff, the Visioness Themaryl, and Simna ibn Sind off their feet. Only the larger and more powerful Ahlitah and Hunkapa Aub were able to remain standing, and even they were staggered by the force of the detonation.
When Simna's vision cleared and he could once again discern the drama being played out in front of the throne, a loss of feeling and belief gripped him the likes of which he had never experienced before, not even when as a child he had been cruelly a.s.saulted by his peers. As receding thunderclaps rolled through the chamber and off into the distance, he saw the remnants of the shattered sky-metal sword lying scattered everywhere: on the steps leading up to the dais, on the floor, on the throne itself. Stare at them as he might, they did not slowly revive, did not become dozens or hundreds of new, smaller blades as they had in far Skawpane. They had been smashed into ragged shards and strips of twisted steel, like the vulnerable metal of any common sword.
At the foot of the steps lay a crumpled, motionless figure.
”Etjole!”Heedless of whatever the domineering, armored figure commanding the dais might do, the swordsman rushed forward. Hunkapa Aub and the black litah were right behind him.
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