Worms' Ending: Book Eight (The Longsword Chronicles 8) Read online

“Yes. So it would seem. I must at least try to see the Book of Thangar for myself.”

  “And so, beardy White Stick of Raheen, to my original question.”

  “Which was?”

  “How is Corax progressing with Imzenn’s old staff?”

  “Well enough, under the circumstances. I believe his long and patient hours sitting in holes and ditches studying rocks have strengthened and disciplined his mind enough to cope with the lessons I and Master Arramin have taught him. He would never pass the examinations of Sek, but when it comes to the defence of our lady and your hall, he will pass any test, even at the expense of his own life, should it ever be necessary.”

  “And let us hope it isn’t.”

  “Indeed.”

  There was another silence then, the two of them sitting alone together in the dull orange gloom.

  Finally Gawain spoke, and softly. “Why does this feel like an ending, Allazar?”

  “I do not know, my friend. Perhaps it is? Perhaps the enigma that is the D’ith Hallencloister is the last obstacle to our peace. The world all about us is changing, and it, like us, holds its breath awaiting outcomes. I fear for Brock’s venture in the west, I fear for Hellin’s future in the north, and now, with the D’ith Hallencloister our destination, I fear for our own.”

  “As do I.”

  “When do we leave? It is perhaps four weeks ride north to the Hallencloister.”

  “Perhaps a little less if we don’t dawdle, and it’s a bit slightly west of north.”

  “And when do we leave?”

  “I was trying to avoid that question in the hope that I would blink and the snake of a worm would be gone.”

  “I am sorry.”

  “I, too. Tomorrow morning, at dawn. If Brock holds to his plans, it’s tomorrow he crosses the Ostern. And it’s tomorrow we cross the Sudenstem. A swift and clean break will make it easier than a lengthy farewell, and in truth, there is little we need to do to prepare.”

  “Our lady will not let you leave without Sighted eyes to watch over you, you know that.”

  “Yes. If she insists, and doubtless she will, I’ll take Ranger Venderrian. He did well at the tower.”

  “And no-one else?”

  “No. I intend to speed our journey there and back. All I want is the Hallencloister’s answer to a very simple question, and then we’ll return and build our lives here.”

  “And the question?”

  “Why.”

  oOo

  3. Arrangements

  Gawain eyed them all at the table, his trusted friends, his lieutenants, his allies. None of them seemed particularly happy. It was Tyrane who spoke first, as Gawain knew it would be. The Callodonian officer had been, after all, Gawain’s Adjutant at the Battle of Far-gor, and a good friend long before that.

  “You know my failings as well I, m’lord,” the tall and crisply-dressed Major declared softly. “It should therefore come as no surprise that I cannot imagine a reason why you would leave your hall so soon after your return from the Eastbinding, especially since it is well known that the Hallencloister was sealed tight as a drum even before we left the foot of Raheen and travelled the Jarn Road together.”

  “I know, my friend. And that is the very reason I must go there. If all other counsel is to be believed, and Morloch is indeed a spent force licking his wounds behind the Teeth, if the Toorseneth now has naught but spies and penny-blades east of Elvendere for the exercising of its will, and if Brock and Igorn meet success in the Old Kingdom in the weeks to come, then there are but two forces which may yet act against us here in Last Ridings.”

  “Two, sire?”

  “Aye, Wex, two. First, Hellin’s Hall, and the queen herself blind and embittered and broken on the wheel of grief. She has set her face against us, and with her new and fresh-faced matrimonial alliance with the elf lordling Insinnian, she is busy now handing her people, and us with them, on a plate to the ToorsenViell. And second, the D’ith Hallencloister, which by mystic means or by our own urgent business elsewhere has evaded all attention since its gates were closed. There is nothing we can or should do about Hellin. Her own people will make their feelings known in due course. But the Hallencloister must remain a conundrum no more.”

  “Yet, my lord, none have been admitted since the gates were drawn up,” the wizard Corax reminded them, “And none have come out. At least, not to anyone’s knowledge.”

  Gawain nodded. “I know. And that is why I must go there. It is the single biggest piece missing from a puzzle as yet incomplete, which, if my intuition is correct, might hold the answer to the one question all of us have been afraid to ask since the new Hall of Raheen was built here in Last Ridings.”

  “What question, m’lord?”

  Gawain smiled at Tyrane. “May we now at last dwell here in peace, and build our lives anew, untroubled, in friendship and in joy?”

  “The answer to that is already known, miThal,” Valin sighed. “Did we not learn from the enemy at Urgenenn’s Tower that the Toorseneth possesses seed, and spore, and spawn?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then,” Elayeen declared, her voice quiet, and lilting, and rich with sorrow, “There can be no peace for us, and our lives shall always be troubled. Not until the liberation of Elvendere may we ever hope to be safe from the Toorseneth.”

  “Which is of course why I have taken such precautions as I have, miheth. And why I have called you all to this table here in my hall, to ensure those precautions continue in my absence. Allazar and I will be gone no more than two months, all being well. Less, if the Sardor of Hallencloister has the good sense to answer my question promptly and with courtesy. In the meantime, my friend Martan and his team have their orders and are busy about their business. Please do not impede them in any way.”

  “We have the down-below, sire,” Wex frowned, shifting nervously in his seat. “Is a fort at the headland really needed, do you believe? Is there something we should know?”

  “I hope not. But we have seen the kind of creatures which might be spawned against us through the power of aquamire, be it of the false variety or otherwise. Our settlement and its population are growing, and I want everyone safe, not just those who can be accommodated in the vault. Down-below.”

  Wex nodded. He was of course Gawain’s man, and could not oppose his king’s departure. But it was plain to see that he, and doubtless all the others in the Crown’s Guard too when they found out, was far from happy at the prospect.

  “Will you take Rider Reef with you again, sire?”

  “No. I’ll take none of the Guard. Your duty is entirely to our lady and the new prince she bears. I’ll not reduce the number of watchful eyes about my queen for the sake of company on what I hope will be a simple and speedy journey. It may be that the wizards are right, and I shall gain no admittance to the whitebeards’ den, so be it then, the sooner I’ll return. But make no mistake, there’s but one thing I expect of those who serve me, and one boon I hope my friends not bound by fealty will grant me, and that is the defence and protection of my queen.”

  “Our enemies have seed, spore, and spawn, miThal. Which of the rangers will you take to be your Sighted eyes on this journey?”

  “You shall take at least one, my lord,” Elayeen said, and her voice, as Gawain had expected, brooked no argument.

  “Ranger Venderrian. Unless you, my lady, or Rangers Valin or Meeya, know of any reason why it should be someone else?”

  Elayeen glanced from Meeya to Valin, and receiving no sign of disapproval, acquiesced.

  “Ven it is then,” Gawain declared. “Ranger Valin, would you make the arrangements? I intend to cross to the south bank at dawn, thence to West Forkings and its ferry to the north side.”

  “I shall, miThal.”

  “Thank you. And thank you all, I know each of you has a thousand questions, and likely a thousand reasons why I should not undertake this journey. But my own reason is not the only one for making the trek north; Allazar too has good cause to accom
pany me. My friend Tyrane, I know you and your men are fretful concerning events soon to take place near the Jarn Gap. I share your concerns, of course. Your remaining here in Last Ridings is a source of great comfort both to myself and to my queen. But this time, I don’t expect to see you riding up behind me dragging a carriage-bow or some other ancient weapon with which to assail the gates of the Hallencloister.”

  “Understood, m’lord,” Tyrane smiled sadly, “I shall remain, and do what I can here, on King Brock’s behalf, and in honour of friendship.”

  Gawain nodded his gratitude. “There is one thing you might look to, with your professional eye?”

  “Name it, m’lord.”

  “Our settlement grows, as you know, and with more farming expertise having arrived from Callodon of late, fresh crops have been sown. Yet we have little or no winter stores put aside in the down-below. Dun Meven was very well provisioned. Could you draw up a list of stores, enough to see all our people through winter at least, and perhaps some besides? If you haven’t already, that is.”

  “I can, m’lord. Jars of pickled roping?”

  Gawain smiled. “If you insist, but my friends Lord Rak, Ognorm, and Martan of Tellek brought half a boat-load of frak with them which is already snug in the down-below, so it’ll be you and your men Clane and Bari eating the fishy delicacy, not me or mine.”

  “We can discuss such practical matters in the days to come, Major,” Elayeen announced softly, “I will arrange with Arbo and others to assist in obtaining the provisions from West Forkings, or Mereton if necessary.”

  “M’lady.”

  Gawain nodded, and again glanced around the table. Elayeen, Allazar, Corax, Tyrane, Wex, Valin, and Meeya. He’d decided to leave Martan and the other dwarves in peace, they knew his requirements and were working hard to meet them. Wex would advise the Crown’s Guard, Valin would notify Ranger Venderrian. Precautions had been taken, and there was now little else to do but pass the hours until dawn, and their departure. Still, Gawain was reluctant to end their gathering so abruptly, it seemed to make him feel like a thief in his own hall, stealing food and drink from the table and then running away into the night.

  “How long before we might expect to hear anything from Brock,” he asked of Tyrane, “Concerning his efforts in the Old Kingdom?”

  “I saw birds and a Birdmaster in the lists of Igorn’s materiel. Communication from the command tent to his Majesty will be speedy. But until Harribek’s birds are fully trained here, we can expect a delay in learning anything direct from the court. Harks Hearth will send word by rider to Dun Meven and Mereton. Thence it’ll come downriver to us here.”

  “Pellarn is a large land,” Allazar declared. “Liberating it might take some considerable time, even with aid from the Gorian resistance there.”

  “And even with nothing but mercenaries to hold Pellarn Castletown, it could still take time and a siege to breach their defences. It could be weeks before we hear anything, m’lord, and months before the Old Kingdom is fully restored.”

  “And it will take time to restore the breach in the barriers, mystic and common, along the Eramak,” Allazar added sternly, “And during that time Pellarn is still at risk from Maraciss and his armies.”

  Gawain nodded. “Much will depend on the Goth-lord’s ambitions. If his jealousy of his brother and his lust for the golden throne of Zanatheum is all-consuming, Maraciss will count as nothing the loss of Pellarn and expend all his efforts and direct all his resources towards the northwest. If it’s lust for power only which drives him, as it did Armun Tal, he might not cede Pellarn so easily. Everything seems to depend upon how mad Maraciss is, and having said that, it’s no wonder the world is holding its breath.”

  “During the feast, m’lord, you said that Pelliman Goth’s ship was the fly in the ointment. Have you had any more thoughts on the subject?”

  “Yes. We know Kallaman Goth was ensconced within Urgenenn’s Tower to observe the keeping of the pact between the Toorseneth and Maraciss under threat of the Goth-lord’s invading the east should elfwizards fail to uphold their end of the bargain. It made little sense to me, in truth, knowing Maraciss is fixed upon the throne of Empire. But madness abounds, it seems, and so I tried to put myself in the Goth-lord’s shoes, and the more I thought about it, the more bizarre the pact twixt ToorsenViell and Goth-lords became.”

  Gawain took a sip of wine, and then gazed into the rich, dark liquid.

  “And the ship?” Allazar prompted.

  “Oh. Sorry. I put myself in Simatheum, in Maraccis’ shoes, and tried to imagine his circumstances. Another lesson from dear old Captain Hass. He told me, y’highness, we’re all a product of our times and our training. Understand the times and the enemy’s training, and you have the key to his mind. Can any of us hope to imagine the tightrope upon which Maraciss now walks? From Salaman Goth he has learned dark wizardry and begun the second rising of the Goth-lords. He has made enemies of Morloch, his brother and Emperor, Zersees, and all the lands here in the east since the taking of Pellarn. With Salaman Goth he sought the same weapon Morloch wanted for himself three hundred years ago, and if he’d achieved it, he would have destroyed utterly Pellarn Castletown and all its inhabitants as surely as Calhaneth was razed, before marching with it to Zanatheum.

  “Not only must he contend with any dark wizards still loyal to a weakened Morloch, but also his neighbours, other Goth-lords arisen and ambitious in that vast land we call the Empire. And on his eastern flank, the great forest of Elvendere, which he knows is filled with elves, all of them well-trained with the bow and masters of their domain.

  “Enemies to the north, and to the west, and possibly even to the south if Armunland and its Tals oppose him, or if a Goth-lord rises there now to fill the void left by the destruction of Salaman Goth. Of course he would fear the east, and jump at the chance to enjoy free passage along the border with Elvendere. And of course he would be suspicious of everything and everyone, trusting only himself. Such is the lot of the dictator who governs by force alone, there is always another waiting in the wings to usurp the usurper. Loyalty in such lands is bought, either with coin or with fear.

  “So he sent Kallaman Goth to observe. Not simply to see the terms of their contract met, but perhaps also to spy, and learn the nature and intent of those who occupy such a long and unbroken border with his lands.”

  “Then we are fortunate Kallaman Goth is dead,” Tyrane declared, “Since he would also know how weak are these lands.”

  “Indeed,” Gawain agreed. “I doubt even the Toorseneth would betray all of us and themselves by selling or giving away such knowledge. But without a Graken of his own, and that was probably a stipulation by the Toorseneth whose creed would not permit a dark wizard flapping about the place, Kallaman Goth was trapped behind the Eastbinding, his Eye of Morloch blinded, except perhaps for the short sight of the device borne aloft by his Condavian. Pelliman Goth was sent to retrieve him from Urgenenn’s Tower and there are many reasons I can think of for that. Some are alarming, some are encouraging.

  “But the simple fact is, and the only reason at the root of all other causes for Pelliman Goth’s ship is, Maraciss believed retrieving Kallaman Goth worth risking the life of Pelliman Goth, and a ship, its crew, and any retinue sent with the dark wizard for his protection.”

  “And those risks combined are resources of considerable value indeed,” Allazar frowned. “Just as well then, as Major Tyrane noted, that Kallaman Goth is destroyed.”

  “You said some reasons were alarming, m’lord, and some encouraging?”

  “I did, Tyrane, and perhaps it’s as well you can’t imagine them as I can.”

  “Perhaps just one of the encouraging ones then, m’lord? Just to give me some hope in the weeks to come, you understand.”

  Gawain nodded. “Yes I do. Well then, here’s the most encouraging one I can think of: Maraciss is so desperately short of dark wizards to serve his cause, he risked one of great power to fetch another home.”
>
  “He did expend considerable resources against us on our quest for the Orb,” Allazar mused.

  And though the mood around the table remained melancholy, Tyrane at least looked a little less distressed than he had after the meal and the commencement of the meeting.

  “And on that cheery note, I hope you will forgive me, but I have some final preparations to make.”

  Gawain stood to a chorus of ‘milords’ and retired to his apartments, leaving the small gathering, including Elayeen, discussing the bombshell that was the announcement of his imminent departure, and the arrangements which would be needed before dawn.

  He was packing his well-worn saddle-bags and checking and replenishing the contents of a familiar pack with clean bandages and silvertree powder when Elayeen joined him there, closing the door softly behind her. On seeing the pack of medicines, unguents, needles, thread and bandages, she blinked, and gazed at him accusingly.

  “It’s just a precaution, E. You know how useless Allazar is on horseback. There’s no harm in being prepared for a scraped knee should he fall off yet again. I don’t intend to stop and smell the flowers along the way, nor to chase rabbits and waste time cooking them. Our ride to the Hallencloister will be every bit as rapid and as stealthy as the one we three made to Raheen from Ferdan.”

  Satisfied the pack contained all it should, he rolled it, and tied it.

  “Are you suffering one of those dangerous moods Valin and the others warned me about?”

  Wordlessly, Elayeen took the saddle-bag and its fresh cakes of frak from Gawain’s hand, laid them on a chair, and slipped into his arms, holding him tightly. He held her close, rocking her slightly, his eyes closed, and when several minutes had passed, he spoke softly.

  “I meant what I said about your safety, E. At the slightest hint of trouble I want you in the down-below and surrounded by all the strength we have here in Last Ridings.”

  He felt her nod, her head pressed tight against his chest, the top of her head under his chin.

  “I love you,” he whispered, “Even more now than you could feel when we were bound together in throth. You are so much more than the cold and shivering lady I found pinned in a wicked cruel trap. So much more than the lady who called to me her name in clear sight of all her people. So much more than the fire and ice, pain and beauty of she who nursed me. I’ve seen you grow, Elayeen, and blossom, and become the queen you truly are, filled with fierce strength and courage, and filled with gentle kindness and compassion. Of late, I have lain abed in the darkest of hours here in our room, feeling your warmth and hearing your breathing, and I’ve wondered, E, how I’ve wondered, what I could possibly have done, or still have left to do, to deserve such a queen as you.”