The Return of Kavin (33 page)

“They built it to stand,” he said. “But they were no fools either concerning human nature. They covered the lower standards with common iron, knowing that otherwise they’d need to guard their Gate by night and day. Do you know what’s beneath those rusty plates? No? It’s silver, pure silver.” Thuramon stared up at the towering thing, and laughed again.

“It’s a most remarkable Gate,” he said, in a low voice. He glanced at the others, and nodded, slowly. “Yes, I know… not one of you could wholly understand this thing we stand before. I’ll not even try to explain. But it is a door to other worlds… and a door to other times, as well, depending on how it is opened.”

Thuramon knelt, and carefully brought out the Egg of Fire. The huge jewel shone with a pale fire, almost brighter than the moonlight that illuminated the scene. He took the Egg to a metal column, and felt carefully along the iron plates; a plate sprang open, like a cabinet door. Thuramon placed the jewel in the dark space within, and closed the plate again.

Suddenly, lambent violet flame seemed to run lightly up the skeleton of metal, leaping from girder to girder; spheres of blue light danced on the tips of the columns.

A wide sheet of light spread across the open space between the columns, a glowing pane of light that shimmered like a curtain, but hung steadily in place.

“The Gate is opened,” Thuramon said in a shaken voice.

Hugon gazed at the curtain of light, speechless for once. Then he heard Thuramon’s voice again.

“The first task is that most important of all… to bind the being called Ess forever in the place where he cannot touch man’s mind again.” Thuramon stopped, and stared at the light for a long time before he spoke again.

“This, I must do alone,” he said. “Wait here. If I do not return, I have failed. Remove the Egg of Fire, and the Gate will close again; take the Egg to the Dragon Isle and give it to them, to guard forever. Thus, this world will be safe from Ess for a time, and perhaps another will finish my task.” He lifted a hand. “In the Goddess’ name, I bid you farewell.” And Thuramon stepped into the glow, and was gone.

The universe had run down, like an ancient clock left at last unwound. Here and there, a few dim red stars still glowed, floating in the utterly black cosmos together, as if huddled close for warmth.

Matter itself was aged; energy gone from the spinning particles, and in the enormous empty darkness, not even a frozen planet was left.

There was a single huge red star, near the center of all. Around it, certain highly unlikely and very wise beings moved, in a way that no human mind could ever understand. The beings were separate, and yet they were one; they possessed duration, in a way, but they could bend time as a man twists a rod of soft metal.

One… or perhaps several… of these beings communicated with another… who was perhaps also the same being.

A communication is received, the being said.

A being, made of archaic materials, has caused a message to be recorded. The being is-was-will be in a different time and place.

The message refers to the Portion called…
Ess.
(The name was unspoken, because sound was no longer possible in that place.)

The Portion is moving in an uncontrolled manner. It is necessary that the Portion be reintegrated.

End of communication.

The creature that was called Ess was suddenly drawn out into an unimaginable place, along a direction of travel that was at right angles to every other direction in the universe. It flashed out and away, and time folded behind it as it went

The Portion has been reintegrated. Entropy is once more in balanced flow.

And in the curious place where Thuramon was, he knew that he had succeeded at last; he groaned, and his ancient bones protested, as he finished the last step of the work. Then he turned, and went back through the curtain of light.

Broad daylight poured down over the valley; Thuramon stood, swaying slightly with weariness, and saw the tethered horses, and the figures that waited. Zamor saw him first, and shouted for joy. Then the others saw, and came running toward him.

“It is done,” Thuramon said. He closed his eyes.
“Done… at last.”

After a minute, he opened his eyes again.

“Now, the rest of our work,” he said, briskly. “I gave my word to you, Lady Gwynna, that you might see your home again in Armadoc, and that your crime might become as if it had never been.”

“Can you do that?” she said, her eyes wide.

“I can,” he said. “But remember. You will know what you did, though it will never have been done in the memory of any man. Do you understand me?”

“No,” she said, but her hands were gripped into tight fists. “No, but whatever the price, do it.”

Thuramon’s eyes were holding hers. “You will return, through time, to that year in which you betrayed Armadoc to the Empire. You will be there, and you may lead whatever life you choose. Be that woman who betrayed her trust and broke her oath… or anything else.”

“But,” she stared at him. “If I go there… to step across years in that way… I don’t understand. Will there not be another Gwynna, my younger self, there in my place, ruling Armadoc?”

Thuramon nodded. “Your logic is clear,” he said. “So, indeed, there will be. Yet, all you need to do is touch her hand with yours, and in that moment, you alone will exist; she will vanish.”

“Thuramon!”
Zamor stared at him, wide eyed. “Look you, man. Give the lady this; she goes, as you say, to another year. Then where, in the Great Snake’s name, am I? Where’s Hugon? Why, you’re about to change the web of things that have
happened!”

Thuramon chuckled. “I’d never thought to find so much wisdom being thrown about so carelessly. Yes, time will change, Zamor. But you need not change. You will stand here, exactly the same as now.”

“You’re certain?” Zamor asked, scowling. “I’d not like to find myself back in the galleys, for instance. Or… hold, now. Would there be two of me, as well? I’m growing weary of this affair of twins hither and thither.”

“Only one of you, and free as you now are,” Thuramon said. “How could this world have room for two such?”

“Now, one more question,” Hugon broke in. “D’you know, master wizard, this fiddling with the clock gives me a most uneasy feeling. Look, now. Mistress Gwynna returns to her home in Armadoc, as she wished. Good. She leads a most exemplary life, does
not
betray her wardenship, and doubtless contracts a fine and fruitful marriage with some good gentleman…”

“Hugon, you damned rhyming jackanapes…” Gwynna began, her eyes flashing. But Hugon plowed on.

“Thereafter, Ess being absent, the Emperor retains what wits he had, which seemed not too many as I’ve heard it. Yet, there is no rebellion, no burning of Mazain…” He flung out his hands in a despairing gesture.
“Gods!
No, Thuramon, don’t attempt to explain it to me. Only assure me as you assured Zamor. I wish to remain Hugon, the one and only Hugon, unique in a world of lesser men.”

“You will,” Thuramon said. “And, if you choose to travel in time as well, you may remain unique in the same manner as I gave the lady. Touch your double’s hand, and you are one again.”

“Travel?
In time?”
Hugon shook his head. “No, thank you, but no.”

Thuramon turned to Kavin.
“And now, Prince… our last work.”
He stared at Kavin, and suddenly Thuramon seemed to look much older and wearier.

“It was said in the old tale,” Thuramon said, “that the Prince returned to Koremon, having defeated the dread evil of the Black Valley. There, he ruled wisely and well for many years, until he was buried in that mighty tomb.” Thuramon’s voice grew lower. “It was said, also, that there was a certain wizard who stood always by that king’s right hand, and lived long years after him.”

“I begin to see,” Kavin said. “I must return. The king who came back from the Valley was…
myself
.” He laid his hand on Thuramon’s shoulder. “You know I do not want this. Even with yourself to stand by me. Almost I’d rather take an oar in a galley, as these two did, than rule a kingdom.”

“You must,” Thuramon said.

Kavin laughed, suddenly and a little harshly. “Oh, must I? Why should I not turn and go back to my house by the lake? Did I not give enough of myself to earn that?”

“That house is empty,” Thuramon said. “She is not there.”

Kavin stared at him. “She is here, somewhere, with me,” he said. “I know it. I have heard her, felt her hand. I never knew what she was, wizard. But she appeared, and became like any other woman, there in Koremon, beside that lake. She will do so again!”

Thuramon shook his head. “She will not,” he said. “But… if you return to that other time, she will be there. She is… under the Law that the Goddess has given this world we live in, here. By that Law, she has already returned to the beginning of the cycle. She is there.”

Kavin groaned. “If I could only think you were lying… but no. It’s too neat, well-made, this trap. I yield, I yield.” He flung out his hands. “Open your Gate, and I will enter the prison called kingship.”

Thuramon nodded. “Yes… but understand. You will step through that Gate, and you will stand, at that moment at which you were caught in the sorcery that Ess flung at you. You thought, at that moment, that he had been slain. But you were cast into sleep, and you lay asleep while the years went by. Now you will be there, at the same moment, just after this has happened.”

Kavin nodded. “Those who came with me will be there, I suppose,” he said.
“My old friends and comrades.”
He looked a little more cheerful as he considered it. “So, we mount and ride home, and there’s an end to it all. And you, Thuramon… will you deal with your double as you told the lady here to do?”

“I am not coming with you,” Thuramon said.

“Wait, now,” Kavin protested. “If you’re to be with me, in Koremon… oh, I see.
The other, earlier, Thuramon, then.”
He stared at Thuramon and laughed. “May I tell him of what’s to come, and earn credit as a fortune reader?”

“You did,” Thuramon answered.

There was a silence, as the others tried to hold the dizzying thought. Kavin shook his head, as if to clear it. “Enough!” he said. “I told you, I yield.”

“Very well,” Thuramon said. He turned toward the Gate. “I myself will go last; mine is the farthest journey. You, Kavin, will go first. Then, as the light alters, the Lady Gwynna… by the way, lady, you should lead your mount with you. When you come out, you will find yourself among these same mountains, and a long journey awaits you, to Armadoc.”

She looked at him with glowing eyes. “I would not care if it were across the world’s width, so Armadoc lies at the end.” She reached out, and took her horse’s reins, patting its neck.

“But through the mountains, alone…” Hugon said, doubtfully.

Gwynna stared at him. “I can defend myself well enough,” she said. “Of course, you may lend me that crossbow if you like. But there are only a few wandering herdsmen in the mountains, peaceful folk. Not pirates, who’d think to sell a woman like a market pig.”

Hugon laughed. “Now, there’s the old Gwynna again,” he said. “Oh… have you my small gift about you, still?”

“Yes,” she said, and pulled out the sack. “Why, do you wish it back?”

“Why, no,” Hugon said. “If you’ll look within…”

She opened the sack, and uttered a low gasp. Jewels glittered with cold fire in her palm.

“When I was in the King’s Treasury,” Hugon said, innocently, “I happened to run across these, and bethought
me,
some pretty lass might look well in them… better than a mad king would, at any rate.”

“You may have them back,” Gwynna said. “I have my own jewels… at Armadoc.”

He stared at her. His hand dipped into his pouch, and brought forth something which he held concealed in his palm.

“No,” Hugon said, reflectively. “It would not be fair. Thuramon, I have here a pretty thing, a toy which could render the lovely lady here speechless and docile, as you recall.” He smiled at her, and tossed the crystal to Thuramon. “Take it back. I prefer her as she is, talkative and tart as sea-wine. My Lady Gwynna, will you accept my comradeship in your journey?”

She looked at him in a peculiar way, but said nothing. “Oh, those pretties,” Hugon said, glancing at the jewels she held. “I’d thought to offer them as a bride-gift… small as they are. And in despite of my brother Zamor’s warnings about widows…”

“In that time and place, I am no widow,” Gwynna said, in a small voice. She looked at him. “Come then, fool, if you will.”

“Not without me,” Zamor said, loudly. He looked toward Thuramon. “Wizard, this damned lute player wouldn’t last a day without me to drag him from the pits he falls into. Can you let him ride back all those days, with a widow, and alone?”

“You’re going somewhere!” Fraak cried out, suddenly, and flapped his wings excitedly. He had been sitting on Hugon’s saddle, but now he leaped to his shoulder, and clung, determinedly. “I’m going too,” he said, firmly.
“Wherever it is.”

Thuramon looked from one to another; and laughed, quietly.

“Go, then,” he said. “All of you, quickly, while I may still hold my temper. Now…”

Hugon and Gwynna strode together to the shimmering curtain, leading their horses; they moved into it… and were gone. Fraak, as he vanished, uttered a last bugling three-note call. Zamor, with his own horse, and the long axe on his shoulder, hurried to follow them through.

Thuramon moved a control on a column; he looked at Kavin, gravely.

“Goodbye, wizard,” Kavin said, grim faced. “At least… if she is there, as you say… there’s one reason for this. Though, for the rest…” He groaned. “And the tale said I lived another half a hundred years, did it not? A throne can grow hard on a man’s bottom in all that time, Thuramon.”

He stepped into the light, and was gone.

Thuramon stood, alone. Once more, be reset the control.

He stared into the shimmering curtain and sighed; his hand touched his white beard.