The Black Sword Trilogy: The Four Nations (38 page)

             
The clearing was just wide enough to see much of the sky and most of the stars that were familiar to him were still there where he remembered them.  The forest went completely silent and it seemed strange, but he wasn’t afraid of it. Something seemed to tell him that he was safe.  His eyes began to feel heavy and wanting to close, but it wasn’t like he wanted sleep.  He just felt an overwhelming need to close them.  In the darkness, he could still hear his breathing, but it was the only sound.  Then the presence felt closer and heavier.  It had already felt all around him, but now it felt as if it were pressing down on him.  He thought he heard footsteps close to him and wanted to open his eyes to see.  Out of the silence he heard Kayla’s voice calling out to him, “Do not open your eyes,” and remembered the Sanctuary.  He started to feel afraid and in danger.  He wanted to stand up and reach for the Sword.  But then he felt something like a hand touch him on his chest and a wave of calm washed over him.  He felt a sensation like he remembered when he was Krall’s prisoner coming out of the forest and he saw the shooting star across the night’s sky.  Everything was going to be alright.

             
The first sounds were like rolling thunder and the first images were of armies and warriors fighting each other in one savage battle after another.  It seemed like he was watching them happen like they were happening right before his eyes; but also like they were all happening at the same time.  He saw men, Wolfen, Silther and even Morgrils killing each other in awful masses; bodies piling on top of one another and rivers of blood flowing from the battlefields.  He saw mutilated bodies still alive crying out for help or to be put out of their misery.  And he saw this all in a muted gray light as if were all coming from far away in space and time.  A voice he couldn’t hear, but was clear to him nonetheless said to him, “The Dark Times”.

             
Next he saw an image from the Sanctuary in the Blackwoods.  Someone stepped from the other side of the veil with the Blackwood Bow in his or her hand.  He wasn’t sure.  It was a lone figure in a grey, hooded robe and he couldn’t see the face.  The figure placed the Bow in the hands of a beautiful lady and then the image faded.

             
Next was an image from what looked like the deck of a ship at sea.  The Golden Spear was presented to a ship’s captain and by the same hooded figure with no face.

             
Then he saw an image in a huge, fabulous palace that looked as if it were carved out of the very rock of an imposing mountain.  A man in armor looking as if made of the same stone as the mountain was holding over his head the Stone Hammer and people were cheering.  And then he saw the walls of Kallesh and the Iron Gate.  In front of the walls was an army numbering in the thousands and at the head of the army was a king or a general (he couldn’t tell which) on a horse.  The now familiar robed figure was holding the Silver Axe to the leader on the horse.  The leader held the Axe high and his troops cheered.  But this time Kenner tried to watch the robed figure a moment longer.  Suddenly he saw the eyes under the robe and almost jumped in horror.  It was Bleylock.

             
He awoke with a start and was gasping for air.  It couldn’t be true, he thought desperately.  Bleylock couldn’t have given the weapons to the kings of old.  It couldn’t be true.

After a few moments, he felt calmer and then his eyes closed again.

              He felt as if floating, and then flying.  He was taken to the top of a mountain in what he perceived must be the Badlands.  He didn’t know why, he just felt that it must have been.  He saw a figure in a small room that reminded him of the metal smith’s shop from his village.  He saw a roaring fire in a pit and weapons of steel hanging from the walls.  A single figure was alone in the shop and hammering away at something on an anvil. The figure was chanting in a low whisper and hammering in a perfect rhythm to his chants. Feeling like he was actually standing behind the figure he looked over his shoulder.  There was an axe on the anvil and roughly in the design of the Silver Axe.  Kenner felt sick again and a cold chill ran through him.  Looking around the shop, he saw two other weapons in roughly the same design as he’d seen before: a spear and a hammer.  The figure turned just enough for Kenner to recognize the eyes again.  It was Bleylock once more and suddenly Kenner came to a horrifying realization. It was Bleylock who gave the Great Weapons to humankind.  But why, Kenner wondered?

             
The image changed to one of another battlefield in front of a great castle.  An army of Silther was marching on a single woman with the Blackwood Bow.  She released an arrow from the bow and a devastating tornado ripped through the Silther ranks.  Then hundreds of trees erupted from the ground and the remaining Silther were torn to pieces.  The lone woman marched through the corridors of the castle until she found an old man in a robe hiding in a closet space.  Kenner heard him scream out the name “Bleylock!” before the woman shot an arrow through his heart and then flames began to grow in the castle.

             
Next, Kenner saw an image in a barn.  Another ancient man in a black robe was pleading with a man holding the Silver Axe.

             
“You must believe me!  He has betrayed me and my brother.  He will betray you all.  He will betray you all!”

The begging was to no avail and the old man was hacked to pieces.

              The next image was of a battle on a mountain top.  All of the Weapons’ Masters were battling a fearsome beast slashing at them with its claws and spitting boiling hot blood from its mouth.  The four Weapons’ Masters used all the powers they were aware their weapons had and pushed the beast on to a high crag above a crack in the world so deep, Kenner could not see the bottom of it.  The creature fell into the pit screaming and cursing; but as Kenner caught one last glimpse of its awful face, he thought he could see a hint of a smile.

             
The implications were terrible to Kenner.  If he was interpreting the images right, then it was Bleylock who invented the Great Weapons and gave them to humans for the purpose of defeating his own rivals or allies.  Kenner didn’t know which as he was not well versed in this history.  However, it seemed that the Weapons’ Masters had turned on Bleylock and cast him down.  But what about the smile?  What was there that Kenner couldn’t see, he thought?

             
He opened his eyes and found himself alone again in the clearing.  The presence was still there and still close, but it didn’t feel as if it were as heavy or strong.  He felt as if it had eased on him a little to allow him to rest for a moment; perhaps to further contemplate what had been revealed.

             
Could any of it be true, Kenner thought?  He had been taught that the Great Weapons had been given by the spirits of land, sea and sky for the purpose of defeating the Dark Lords and their beasts.  Now, it seemed to him as if he had been shown that they had been made a darker hand and for a fouler purpose.  As he thought of this, another disturbing thought came to him. If they had been made by an evil hand, what affect had they on their wielders?  Did Bleylock have some kind of control over the weapons?

             
His eyes closed again and he fell back onto the grass.  New and terrible images came to him.  He saw the city of Korsh and heard screaming and crying.  Soldiers marched through the streets of the beautiful city searching for anyone on the streets.  He saw the soldiers bursting into the houses and pulling women and men from their own homes and dragged through the streets.  Meanwhile, their neighbors watched from their own homes in fear of their own lives.  Then he saw the face of Firth, the young man he’d entrusted with the Golden Spear.  He had hate in his eyes and Kenner perceived in him a lust for murder.  Kenner saw Firth deliver the sentence of death to hundreds without trial or mercy.  They were sent to their doom by being thrown into the deep ocean where they would be crushed by the depths.

             
He saw a king in a mountain hall surrounded by an entire city that called him a god.  He saw him calling from his mountain palace to all the corners of his kingdom.  Then he saw cities, towns and villages where men were being rounded up like livestock.  Some went willingly; some had to be forced at the point of a weapon.  Still others, mostly young boys had to be dragged from hiding places while mothers, sisters or wives cried is despair.  The men were gathered together, bound by ropes to one another and then marched away.  Many knew they would never return.

             
To Kenner’s dismay, he next saw Krall; the man he considered a friend.  He had the Silver Axe in his hand again and he was the head of a massive army; all wearing the Great Tower of Kallesh on their chests.  He saw that they were marching along the eastern road toward the pass of Parabas.  Krall’s face was different.  It was darker and angrier and he perceived in him the impression of a plan that could start a war with Masallah.  But it was more than a possibility to Krall as Kenner looked deeper into him.  Kenner saw that he wanted war with Masallah.  He wanted the Stone Hammer.  More than that he wanted the Blackwood Bow from Terri.  From what he saw in Krall’s darkened heart, he saw that he intended to take it from her whether she was willing or not.  With the three weapons he would take Sheyron and seize the Golden Spear.  He would sweep into the Blackwoods and burn the forest because he knew they would refuse to aid him in a war he felt justified.  He would do all of this and more.  The man Kenner once respected and admired had gone mad and he wanted to dominate the world.  As he still looked at the image of Krall and into his thoughts, he heard a familiar voice laughing.  It was the voice of the robed figure from the Blackwoods who had unleashed that furious creature and its destruction.  His face came into focus; the same face that had created the weapons, given their power to women and men and now was controlling the lives of those who bore them as if he were pulling the strings of puppets.

             
But what of Terri, Kenner asked?  One of the weapons was in her hands.  Another image came into his mind.  He saw frustrated Bleylock trying desperately to control a woman from centuries past.  He tried his best and most powerful spells and tried to rule her through the Blackwood Bow.  But he could not.  He could not bend her will as he had the others.  Centuries before, Bleylock did learn to manipulate the woman through a man she would fall in love with.  But now, Kenner perceived that Bleylock was frustrated again.  Terri could not be manipulated through love of a man; although he did feel from her a type of love for Kenner that she’d never had toward anyone before.  However, it was clear that she would not be dominated by any will but her own.

             
Kenner saw terrible memories in Terri’s mind, going back many years.  He saw trust and betrayal, love and heartache and tragedy after tragedy.  With each memory he saw, he tasted ale or wine in his mouth.  Kenner heard voices around the image of Terri; screams and cries of terror.  He would taste alcohol again and then the voices would become quiet, but not for long.  The voices became louder and soon no matter how much wine or ale poured into the void, they would not cease.  One voice started to become louder and louder: “Murderer…murderer…”

             
Suddenly all the voices stopped and the tastes of wine and ale were gone.  He still saw her.  She was standing near the giant pipe, but she was numb inside and everything around her was silent.  Kenner then saw two silver strings that he knew somehow to be invisible to others.  The strings led in two directions and both were pulling at her.  Kenner had the feeling that they were pulling lightly at the moment, but he knew that in time they would struggle more and more against each other.

             
How could the Father think I would not be back for her, Kenner suddenly thought?  How could I possibly leave her to face this struggle alone?  Suddenly he was blinded by a thousand images at once.  Every image showed him in one place or another and in state of being or another.  He was a great King holding the Black Sword in victory.  He was a tyrant killing all who opposed him.  He had murdered all of his friends.  He had allowed the tyranny of others to continue.  He had done everything in his power.  He had done nothing.  He flung Bleylock back into the pit.  He knelt at his feet, giving him the Black Sword.  All of these he saw at the same time and all just as real and clear as if happening right in front of him.

             
And then he knew.  His eyes opened and he stared up at the stars knowing a truth that, despite everything he had been shown was the one thing that weighed heaviest on him the most.  No matter what decision he would make or what path he chose to travel, he must do it alone.

             
“Why me?” He asked sadly.

A voice like a thousand men and women came down from the sky.

              “Time and history have chosen you.” The voice told him.  He noticed the voice and a part of him felt that he should be amazed or awed by it.  But at that moment, he simply felt too overwhelmed by the decision before him to feel awe or fear.

             
“I thought destiny was a choice?”

             
“It is a choice and one that each man and woman must make for themselves.  But the reason this task has fallen into your hands has nothing to do with destiny; but rather what history has come together in making you.”

             
Kenner then couldn’t help a laugh; which he felt in itself was ironic.