Black Jade (44 page)

'Me,
suspicious of
you
!' Liljana cried out.

I called out, 'This dispute must end here and now. Or else we'll all end up like Gorman and Pittock.'

I thought that Master Juwain wanted to argue with me, but then he bit his Up and nodded his head. Liljana only scowled at him - and at me. Then she turned to stomp off back toward the horses.

After that, I led us deeper into the woods. No one spoke, and we walked on into a terrible silence. The trees of the Skadarak began thinning out and grew ever more stunted and blackened with the disease that blighted them. Some sort of stinking, greenish-black fungus clung to the forest floor and fouled our boots. We were hard put to encourage the horses to set their hooves down into it and keep them moving forward. As for ourselves, it was a misery to keep going on and on, but there seemed no help for it. For a deep voice, I sensed, sounded inside all of us. It promised us endless fascinations and sweet drink to quell the fire of existence; in truth, it promised us everything. It kept calling to us in a dark and dreadful tone that none of us could resist.

How, I wondered again, could I
not
listen? I tried putting my hand to my sword and bringing to my mind all the light that was inside it. It was not enough. I listened for the sound of Atara saying yes to a marriage troth and heard our children playing happily in the yard of a little house by a stream, and that was not enough either. I remembered promising my grandmother that I would not let my burning for Morjin's death destroy me, and still the fell voice called me on.

We came to a place where the trees would not grow, nor would any other living thing. The ground before us was bare and blackened, littered with many bones, mostly human. I felt a strange, sick heat emanating as from the center of the earth.

Altaru suddenly reared up and whinnied as he struck the air with his hooves. I stroked his neck and murmured to him: 'Ho, friend, peace - it will be all right.'

I told him that we were both strong enough to walk straight into this black hell and walk out again. I could listen to the voice of the Skadarak, just a little, and take from it the knowledge to undo it. It could have no power over me, for only I, in the end, had power over myself.

'So,' Kane said, staring out into this swath of death-scorched earth.

His black eyes seemed perfectly to mirror the blackness before us. The rest of our company looked at me then to see if I would lead us into it.

'It's all right, Estrella,' I heard Daj whisper. He stood with her by their horses, holding her hand as she blinked back the tears from her eyes.

I knew then that if I took one more step and set foot into this wasteland, I would never find my way out again. There are some holes so black and deep that there can be no escape. It didn't matter. The Black Jade, I told myself, must be dug up and destroyed. I turned my face toward the heart of the Skadarak.

No,
a voice whispered to me.
No.

My eyes lost themselves in a great, blackened bloom of hate. The kirax burned me; I could feel Morjin trying to make me into a ghul. The One be damned, I thought, for shaping my fate so. I knew that even if by some miracle I
did
escape this place, it would leave its evil sear in my soul. I would have no more mercy for anyone else than I did myself. I would put to the sword my enemies, even though they begged quarter of me; I would torture captives with heated irons to make them tell me their secrets; any and all who opposed me I would slay with the bright fire of valarda.

And then another, even darker thought came to me: I didn't care. Morjin had spoken of three levels of evil, but I knew that there was a fourth: simply not caring if one's actions were evil. I would do what I must do, what I wanted to do, and the world be damned. There seemed no help for it. I steeled myself to take the final and fateful step.

No.

I looked at Berkuar, who seemed more than willing to follow me into this black hell. But I could feel his raging resentment at me for leading him here; I knew that he would be thinking that this was a trap and that I had betrayed him after all. Treacherous people were always keen to suspect others of treachery. And weren't the Greens veritable demons of treachery, as Gorman and Pittock had proved? Truly, they were, and so very soon, at the first sign of Berkuar moving against me, I would have to draw my sword and cut him down. Likewise I must slay Kane, for I knew that he would be heeding the same dark call as I and would be compelled to put his sword into me before I fell upon him. Maram I must send on, here or perhaps in the desert, because someday his selfish ways would get us all killed. Master Juwain was doomed to fall beneath my blade, too, for I knew that very soon he would be tempted again to look into Morjin's foul mind. And Atara. Wouldn't killing this poor, tormented woman be a mercy? It would be the hardest thing I'd ever had to do - one quick stab through the heart - but in a way, the kindest, too. What one must do out of love, I thought, occurs beyond good or evil. I
must
kill Atara, as I would kill
for
her a thousand times a thousand times - even as I would gladly die for her. And I
would
soon die, by my own hand, for I was truly damned for even thinking of killing the one I most loved. But before I took my sword to myself, I must stab and hack to pieces all my enemies. They were everywhere. For war was everywhere and would never end. My part in this eternal war would grow only deeper and more murderous as my enemies became greater in power and numbers. And here, in the heart of the Skadarak, dwelled my most terrible enemy of all. He must be slain. All things born of this damned and twisted earth must be slain, and most of all the treacherous earth itself. I had not made the world so. But I must take my part in its unmaking, slashing out with my unquenchable sword through the flesh of all who opposed me and the blackened skin of the earth itself, feeling the heat of their blood flowing like red lava, killing all that lived in order to fulfill my fate, killing and killing ...

Valashu.

The whispering of my soul had fallen so faint and faroff that I could scarcely hear it. The dark, fell voice of the Skadarak called to me in a thunder like that of a fire mountain bursting in two. How, I wondered for the hundredth time, could I not listen to it?

'Mother,' I whispered. 'Ashtoreth.'

Did the woman who had given me birth truly dwell with the Galadin beyond the stars? Could she hear me call to her, or was she as deaf and doomed as I was?

'Mother,' I whispered again. And then another name, that of an old friend, came almost unbidden to my tongue: 'Ahura Alarama.'

With this simple movement of my breath past my lips, Flick appeared. This being of twinkling lights whirled before me, and his colors quickly brightened and solidified into a form I loved very well. In a click of the fingers, Alphanderry stood between me and the bone-strewn circle of black earth.

He seemed every inch my companion of old: His curly black hair was tangled like a mop, and flopped down over his soft brown eyes. His skin glowed with rich browns and golds and the underlying tone of glorre. His voice, too, sounded out all bright and full of his great gladness of life. He did not wait for the stunned, soul-sickened Kane to bring forth his mandolet and accompany him. He simply sang to us. He smiled, and his sensuous lips parted, and from deep within his throat sounded a beautiful song. It rose, like the wind, and built higher and higher, and ever more lovely like the very songs of the stars. In its pure and golden notes was praise of all life - even of ourselves. We listened until tears sprang into our eyes. And still Alphanderry kept singing, like an ocean emptying itself, singing and singing. . .

'Valashu,' I heard a voice whisper to me. It was the voice of my blood, the very sound and soul of my throbbing heart. 'West is
that
way.'

I turned to face to my left and slightly behind me. Beneath the shield of Alphanderry's immortal song, my sense of direction lived again. Or rather, I could feel it within me once more: bright, steady and warm, for some things can never really die. I heard my fate, my true fate, calling me on. If we set forth through the trees behind us, we could walk straight out of the Skadarak.

La sarojin yil alla valhalla
....

As Alphanderry continued to pour forth music into this desolation of blackened trees and bone-cursed earth, I came to hear
all
of myself more deeply, and I remembered who I really was.

'Atara,' I called out to my blind, beloved companion who stood near me. I called the names of all my friends beside me. 'We cannot go into
that,'
I said, pointing into the heart of the wasteland. 'Let the Black Jade lie as it has. There are some things beyond the power of any man.'

For a moment, the whole world seemed to stop and hang poised on the point of a sword's blade. Maram wiped the sweat from his brow, and Master Juwain rubbed at the back of his head. Liljana closed her eyes as she fought a terrible battle with herself. Kane stared into blackness. His whole body trembled as with a tiger about to spring.

'Kane!' I called to him as I laid hold of his arm. 'Kane!'

Then he looked at me, and his eyes flashed with triumph. 'So,' he said to me. 'So.'

Liljana murmured, 'There are some things beyond any
woman.'

Master Juwain said, 'You're right, Val. Why should we invite it to destroy us?'

He moved over to Liljana and took her hand in his. 'I'm sorry that I borrowed your gelstei. It will never happen again.'

'I'm sorry that I yelled at you,' Liljana told him. And then, 'If I should die along this journey, I want you to take my gelstei and keep it safe.'

They bowed to each other and embraced each other. At this, Berkuar laughed out in relief and spat happily upon the ground before us. Then Maram said to me, 'But we're still lost, aren't we? How can we ever find our way out of here?'

'We are not lost,' I told him. I drew Alkaladur and pointed my shining sword in the direction my blood whispered to me: the direction of my fate. 'That way will take us out of the Skadarak, and on to the desert and Hesperu.'

'Are you sure?' Maram asked me.

I closed my eyes a moment to listen to Alphanderry's strong, clear voice and the even deeper one that sounded within me. Then I looked at Maram and told him, 'Yes, I'm sure.'

I pulled gently on Altaru's reins and pointed my great, trusting horse toward the west. We walked through the nearly-dead forest over blighted, blackened ground. Alphanderry, like an angel, walked with us. And all the miles of the seemingly endless Skadarak, he never ceased singing his beautiful, inextinguishable song.

And so we moved away from that terrible place. We jour-neyed all that day and the nextt as well, into the west. Daj did not ask how we might determine when we had left the Skadarak, for we all knew that in a way, we never would. But

there came a time when trees grew tall and hearthy about us again, with bright green leaves that fluttered in a fresh, clean wind. The dreadful call of the Skadarak faded into a murmur and then seemed to die. Alphanderry left us then. Our shimmering friend simply vanished back into the nothingness that had birthed him. We were all sad to be left alone again, but we hoped that something of Alphanderry's song would continue to sound within us, as a charm against the darkness that had no end.

We mourned for Pittock and Gorman and felt keenly the loss of their bows, for despite their failings, they had been fine warriors. We did not speak of this. We did not speak of the worst of what had befallen us in the Skadarak, neither to each other nor even to ourselves; we were like murderers reentering the company of good men and ashamed of our deeds. When we came to a little stream, we spent some hours washing the stench of the dark woods from our clothing. We bathed in the cold water and scrubbed at our naked skin until it was raw. but it seemed that the evil that clung to us could not be washed away.

Only once did I give voice to the terrible doubt that now ate at my bones. We had crossed another stream and were setting our course when I took Kane aside and said to him, 'I'm tired, so damn tired. I haven't the heart for this any more.'

'What? What's this?'

'Perhaps you should lead us,' I told him.

His eyes flared with anger and astonishment, '
I
, lead us? Ha, I'm no leader! Men obey me - they do not follow. The duty is upon you.'

'But I nearly led us to our doom!' 'So? I've been near to doom a thousand times. That's just the way of life, eh? In the end, you led us out of that cursed wood, and that's all that matters.'

'Is it? I am -' 'You're a star, Valashu. In the end, a bright and beautiful star. You followed its light, and so did I. And so now it's now, and now we're here in this beautiful place. A million miles might lie ahead of us; I won't hear any talk of what lies behind, do you understand?'

He squeezed my arm then, and I felt some of his inexhaustible strength flow into me. I bowed my head to him, and he smiled at me.

But it is one thing to agree to lead others and quite another to keep them moving forward when their hearts as well have nearly given up all hope. After the passage of the Skadarak, Atara fell into a silence so deep and cold it seemed that she had almost lost the power of speech. Her second sight did not return to her. I felt some deep part of her desperately looking for me to show her a way out of her darkness.

As for Maram, he tried to take solace in words. The next morning we set out into a forest chittering with many birds, and he sang almost as brightly as they did. But I sensed the falseness of bravado in his great, booming voice. I knew that he was trying to rally himself for a battle with his old demons - either that or trying to forget.

And so I said to him, 'One day, when our grandchildren are happily married, we'll sit with glasses of brandy in our hands and wonder that we once came so close to despair.'

'Do you really think so?' he asked me. 'But what if we fail?'