"This is the dag which severs metals," Leda said with reservation in her voice. "You give me too precious a thing."
"Nothing is too valuable where you are concerned, Leda; you are more to me than any possession, even Courflamme. I must wield the sword, for it is the prescribed weapon of the champion who stands for Balance. Whether my sword, Gellor's, or the dagger I give to you here will avail us aught is moot. Better to have something, though, than to lose for want of so little a thing as that."
"Very well," the girl said, glancing lovingly at him as she attached the dagger to her girdle. It was almost as long as a shortsword, though not quite so broad-bladed or heavy. "I know how to use this," Leda added, giving it a pat.
"And my sword is ready to stand beside Courflamme," Gellor avowed. "Shall I open yon door?"
"No. It is for me alone to do. I enter first, and you two follow." Gord turned to the door and raised his voice. "By this act I hereby free Tharizdun from his eons-long imprisonment!"
The two watched as their comrade stepped up, laid his hand upon the metal of the Theorpart that now formed the great door's latch, and pushed down and inward. The slab of adamantite swung silently inward.
Chapter 16
"BRAVE RESCUERS, NOBLE WARRIORS! Thank you! Welcome!" The cry was filled with joy, and it sprang from the smiling lips of a young boy. The boy was fair-haired, with a pale complexion matching the hue of the marble, only now his cheeks were flushed apple-bright with happiness, and his blue eyes sparkled with joy. "Have I been locked in this tower long? It seems forever — a month at least."
Gord actually recoiled from the boy's appearance. "Stand fast!" he ordered abruptly as the lad started to come toward the three where they stood just inside the big, circular chamber. The golden-haired youth stopped still, looking less frightened at the threatening swordpoint than puzzled at such treatment.
"Have you come to slay me, then? I thought you saviors. . . ."
"Who are you, boy?"
"Boy? I am no boy!" the youngster said with surprising dignity and weight of authority in his voice. "I am Tharizdun, the Emperor of All — at least," he went on less forcefully, "I am meant to be someday when I become grown,".
"Gellor?" Gord said meaningfully.
"I see only the lad," the troubador said, but he sounded uncertain.
"I find neither lies nor deep evil here," Leda volunteered. She too was using her own powers to determine if they were being deluded by magic.
Gord looked carefully at the prisoner and the place he had been held fast. The tower room was about forty feet across and furnished as would be a lord's solar or office, perhaps. There was a couch, table and chairs, a small shelf of bound books, a few decorative things, and both candle prickets and dweomered lamps for illumination. The blue of adamantite lined the walls, he noted, unseamed and smooth. The metal barred the three windows that pierced the wall, and some bluish crystalline stuff closed the spaces between the thick adamantite bars. The upholstery, rugs, and tapestries were all finely made and costly, though not so exceptional as some examples Gord had seen. Even the boys apparel was thus, rich but not unique. "Who are your parents, then?" Gord asked sharply.
"I have neither father or mother — at least, none I know of." the lad said slowly, as if hating to admit that.
Gellor stepped nearer to the small boy, peering down at him quizzically. "But you are Tharizdun? You are ruler of the cosmos?"
"I am Tharizdun." the youth averred, "and Emperor To Be of all the multiverse."
"What is the multiverse?" Leda asked him suddenly.
"It's . . . I . . . well. . . just everything! This castle, the mountains around, even the sky, I suppose. . . ."
"Come on, then, Emperor Tharizdun," Gord ordered, pointing to the curving flight of steps that led to a higher room of the tower. "Show us the remainder of your apartment."
"It is a prison," the lad contradicted crossly. "And where did you get my ring?" he said in an imperious tone, pointing at Gord's outstretched hand with the adamantite circlet on his index finger showing plainly.
"Never mind that now, boy," Gord snapped. He was very uneasy and not sure how to proceed. He was the champion, the one to fight a duel to the death with the ultimate Evil one, Tharizdun. But he could slay this boy with a single cut of Courflamme. Something was wrong, deadly wrong. "Lead us above."
Frowning, feet shuffling noticeably, the imperial youngster did as he was told. The chamber above was furnished as a dining salon with banners, armor, and ancient-looking weapons used as decorations. The whole of it, celling, walls, floor, was also sheathed in the azure of purest adamantite. Gord paused to tap the panes that closed the windows here as below. The clear crystal was adamantite dweomered to be transparent!
Leda, meanwhile, stepped up to the small boy and took his face between her hands, the obsidian of her skin sharply contrasting with the whiteness of Tharizdun's pallor. "Who attends you here? How do you receive food, drink fresh clothing?"
The lad looked at her with evident puzzlement. "Attends? No one has been here for a long, long time. I had servants of all kinds — even knights and councilmen with long beards. Then ugly and horrid things came. Everyone who served me was killed or ran away. I tried to hide from the beasts, but they caught me. I was carried up to this place and thrown inside."
"And food? wine?"
"Look" the lad calling himself Tharizdun said with a smile as he pulled free from Leda and ran to the long, narrow table. There he snatched up a ewer, proceeding to fill a half-dozen large goblets of crystal that stood next to the container. First golden liquid flowed into the goblets, then deep ruby wine, and finally clear water. "It pours whatever I think of, and when I am tired of a vessel being full, the contents simply go away." From there he went to a golden bowl filled with exotic fruits. "When I take any of these old things away, another just like it appears — langon, nollip, dewfruit. naberries, plums — it doesn't matter. The loaves of bread are always fresh and whole on the morning for my breakfasting, cream and butter here," he told Leda as he moved around the board, "salt and porridge and all manner of other stuff I am tired of seeing!"
"I see," Gord intoned as he watched the youth. "Now lead us higher, please."
"Very well," the boy said with a smile that was warm and friendly again. Then a slight frown creased his brow. "I don't like being ordered about, you know. When I am Emperor nobody will do that, but I suppose until then you can. After all, you three are nobles, and the most favored in all my realm, because you have saved me. Come on!" Tharizdun ran up the stairs with boyish vigor and glee. "My bedchamber and playthings are above!"
It was Just as the lad claimed. The room above was slightly smaller than the one below, but it too was sheathed in the pale blue metal. A royal-looking bed, armoire, chest of drawers, and shelves were there. Two large chests and several smaller ones too helped to make the chamber a clutter. Toys were lying about — a wooden sword and shield, figures of soldiers and mounted knights, and a score of other things that a young prince might have to play with. The bed was neatly made, however, and there were no garments strewn about. "Who is your valet?" Gellor queried, knowing it was impossible for a boy alone to be so neat.
"That bed and my clothes are like everything except my toys," the lad said, dismissing the subject.