Dark Foundations (19 page)

There was a quiet mutter of agreement as Merral continued. “Remember, too, that the war may not be over. We need to raise an army and we may yet have to fight wars. Further sacrifices may still be needed. Evil is still present and we need vigilance and discipline.”

A deathly silence fell. They hadn't wanted to be reminded of this, Merral discerned. Some glanced uneasily northward.

“Finally,” he said, relishing every word he was about to say, “let me end with a personal comment. I was intrigued by our good warden's comments about a personal relationship. Here I need to say something. I have been asked by the representatives to build up and command the defense force that will seek to protect our world. This is a task of such magnitude that, regardless of my own feelings and desires, I have resolved to put aside
all
such relationships until such a time as we can be assured of peace and stability. So can I end all such rumors? As the Word says, ‘There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven . . . a time to love, and a time to hate; a time for war, and a time for peace.' We have unfinished business to complete. In view of that, I hope you will understand that everything else must wait.”

Merral took a breath, hearing murmurings of approval in the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, I commend you to the grace of our Lord. Thank you and good night.”

Amid cheers, he stepped out of the light. “Game over, Isabella,” he whispered to himself.

That night, something woke Merral. He lay in bed, staring upward in the darkness of his room, realizing that he was unsure whether that
something
was a sound, a vibration, or even a change in temperature. But he knew that something in his room had changed.

Perturbed, Merral peered around, noting from the pale digits of the wall clock that it was not yet midnight.

His muscles suddenly stiffened.

In the deep blackness of the far corner sat a figure. The form was that of a large man. For a brief moment, Merral tried to tell himself that it was Lloyd. But that idea died as fast as it formed. The shape was all wrong. This man was thinner and Merral heard no sound of breathing.

Merral shivered and swallowed, now able to make out that the figure was draped in a long dark coat and wore some sort of dark hat. And, most unnervingly, whoever it was seemed to stare at him.

In an instant, Merral knew who was in the room and in another instant, he knew what the topic of conversation was going to be.

“Man, time passes. The darkness has fallen and the war spreads.”

At the sound of that voice—neither human nor mechanical—the last lingering doubts about the figure's identity fled. Aware of the envoy's scrutiny, Merral sat upright, drawing the sheet around him.

“You!” There was fear in his voice.

“Indeed.” There was an intense pause. “So, you are no longer a captain but a
commander
now? You humans love your titles.” The tone was sad rather than scornful.

“Envoy, those titles were given me. I did not seek them.”

“Good. Remember, the King considers them as nothing and beware that you do not count them as something.”

“I know that. I was only saying tonight tha—”

“Fool!” The word stung like a slap in the face. “The King knows what you said. That is why I have been sent. You abused the position you were called to. You spoke noble words about serving the King simply to try to settle matters with Isabella. What a monstrous act! Were the King not merciful, you would have been destined to be a brief moment's play for a Krallen.”

Merral felt his throat constrict. With trembling fingers, he gripped the sheet tight. “I was simply reacting, in the best way I could, to what Isabella had done.”

“
Retaliating
would be a more honest word. Is that the way of grace? And to hide such a deed under a veneer of goodness and sacrifice? To wrap it in the words of Scripture to give it weight?”

Merral stared at the envoy. Here, as on the terrible intruder ship, it was difficult to focus on the figure, almost as if his visitor were an optical illusion. Yet to think of an “illusion” was a thoroughly misleading idea. There was an awesome solidity to the envoy, almost as if he was the reality and Merral and his world were illusionary. This being, he realized with an awe that bordered on terror, was there before the cosmos was created. He watched the stars being made.

Yet as he tried to focus on the fearsome darkness-made-solid that confronted him, Merral sensed that it was not just the impression of vast power, age, and privilege that overwhelmed him. It was something else, something that in his fear he struggled to define, until the word
holiness
came to his mind. That was it, he realized, and in that moment, he understood all the passages in the Word that talked about people falling down in awe and terror before that which was holy.

“I'm sorry,” whispered Merral, a hairbreadth from utter terror, as the wrongness of all he had done was suddenly visible to him. Yet even here, he felt an irresistible urge to say something in his defense. “But what else could I do? She manipulated everything.”

The dark figure leaned toward him. “What Isabella did is a matter between her and the King.
You
were not asked to be her judge. And there was a way out given you. Had you spoken to the warden, he would have removed the words.”

“I'm sorry,” Merral said, this time meaning it.

A strange silence seemed to fill the room, a brooding quiet only broken when the envoy spoke again. “I am to tell you that the Most High accepts your repentance and you are spared the judgment, but not the consequences. Your action was not just wrong, it was also unwise. You have made yourself an enemy and you will pay a price for today's words.”

Merral was silent for a moment before curiosity got the better of him. “How?” he asked.

“I have not been told. You have repented for what has happened, but you will also come to regret it bitterly. And let this be a lesson to you. You have been given a demanding task. You must walk the narrowest of paths. You must be brave but not reckless, resolute but not cruel. Above all, you must lead with confidence yet also follow the King with obedience. You must be shepherd and sheep; leader and servant.”

“Envoy, can no one else do this? I can't do it.”

“You have been chosen. And those the Most High calls, he equips. Remember, to abandon your task is to fail.”

Merral wiped sweat off his brow. “I will not abandon it. I will do my best.”

“Good. Now pay attention. The victory at the lake has gained you a brief reprieve. Although evil is still working through your world, it can be resisted by those who choose to fight it. You have met such already. But the time of peace is short. The enemy approaches with powerful forces. Now rise and see what I have been told to show you.”

With a strange reluctance, Merral left his bed and stood in the middle of the room. The envoy rose from his chair and stood by him. Merral flinched at his presence, painfully aware of an awesome gulf between the envoy and himself—a great gap that made him think of how dirty he felt. And yet the envoy was only a servant of the great Three-in-One. But the thought only increased his unease.

The envoy moved his hand in a deliberate gesture. In an instant, the far wall of the room where Merral's wardrobe stood noiselessly faded away and was replaced by a night sky.

Merral gasped and looked down. While his bare feet remained on the carpet, just a step in front of him was a patch of bare, sharp-edged rock lit only by starlight. Beyond that the ground fell away sharply to a great and gloomy plain whose features were hidden in the darkness.

I am on top of a cliff somewhere
. Merral looked around, trying to recognize where he was. A cluster of lights to his left caught his eye: a village, perhaps a small town, only a few kilometers away.

“Watch!”

High above, a point of brightness flared into a cone of oily, yellow light, the haze around it smearing the stars. The light grew and above it Merral could make out the dark mass of a ship sliding across the constellations. As he heard the deep rumble of the engine, he trembled with foreboding. The ship descended, the lurid brilliance of its exhaust highlighting the roughness of the landscape. With a final bubbling of radiance, the vessel landed on a rise of ground to his right. For a moment, darkness returned, only to be broken again within seconds as a vertical slit of white light grew at the base of the ship.

Out of the slit something emerged, something that poured on the ground like liquid. Merral held his breath. Unable to interpret what he was seeing, he watched as the fluid, glinting oddly in the gloom, began to move down the hill with an ominous increase of speed. The lobe of fluid moved toward him and as it did, he heard the sound of its motion: a weird, insistent, rapid drumming.

“What is this?” he asked in a scared whisper, but there was no answer. As he was about to repeat his question, the lobe crested a rise, and in a moment of stark terror, he realized that what he saw was not a liquid. It was an army of regimented creatures speeding across the ground in perfect synchronization.

“Krallen!”

“Indeed,” said the envoy in his unearthly voice.

There must be thousands of them!
Merral watched them flow with an unstoppable energy around and over the landscape. As they came nearer, the drumming resolved itself into the sound of thousands of feet pounding the ground. Now Merral saw things flying above them: dark whip-tailed creatures that moved with an extraordinary rippling motion of sail-like wings—the same as the appalling winged creature he had faced—and slain—in the intruder ship. His stomach writhed.

Below the scarp upon which he stood, the Krallen raced faster than a man could run, the starlight gleaming on their backs. Standing close by, Merral could hear the eerie whistling and hooting tones they made. The sounds chilled his blood. Where were they going with this relentless purpose? Yet no sooner had he raised the question than he knew the terrible answer.

They were heading toward a settlement.

In less than a minute, they reached the outer buildings. Merral watched horror-struck as the vast army broke upon the homes like a great tidal wave. Far away, Merral could hear high screams of terror, which rose and then were abruptly stilled. One by one, the lights of the settlement died until all was darkness.

Sickened, Merral watched the Krallen forces with their escort of dragon creatures regroup and then move under the faint starlight. And as he gazed at them, he saw another cone of light and then another appear in the heavens.

“God have mercy,” he said softly, realizing that he was shaking.

The scene faded and he was suddenly back in his room. He sat on the bed, wiped sweaty hands on his night-suit, and stared at the envoy.

“That . . . ,” he said, waving a hand at his wardrobe, “that hasn't happened, has it?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Thank God. Is that what
will
happen?”

“I do not know whether that will occur here. But such things—and worse—have happened on the worlds beyond the Assembly.”

“So it may not happen?”

“Only the Most High knows the future. It is for the best. If you knew that it would happen, you might despair; and if you knew it would not, you might relax. Instead, be warned and prepare.”

Suddenly, Merral's fear and shock turned to anger. He wanted to protest against the fact that he had been singled out to be responsible for defending his world against such forces. But he fought with the resentment, realizing it could do no good. And anyway, he reminded himself, anger had already betrayed him once that day.

“Thank you for letting me see the vision.” Merral paused, his mind made up. “I will do all I can to defend my world.” He was surprised at the resolve in his voice. “I shall make it my business to ensure that no settlement falls without a fight.”

“Well said. May your deeds match your words.” The envoy shifted his long coat in a way that seemed a prelude to his leaving.

“But,” Merral began, his head now filled with urgent questions, “how can we resist enemies who can destroy cities so effortlessly?”

The envoy turned his head to stare at him. “At such a time, you will find a way of defense offered to you. But be warned. It will be a costly way, one that only the very bravest will take.” He lifted his head as if hearing a far-off summons. “I must go. But I have some advice for you. First, you do well to take Jorgio to Isterrane. Guard him well: his time is coming. Second, let me repeat what you have already sensed: this world, and the Assembly, are being tested. That testing comes both from beyond your world and also from within it. You will find that much you have taken for granted will fail you. In particular, do not presume upon the unity that has long governed the worlds of the Lord's Assembly. Thus far, those in your world have worked together; they may not do so for much longer. Be careful who you trust.”