Reaching out, he picked up his sword, drew it and held it out along the table. It gleamed jet black in the torchlight. Slowly he looked from one man to the next. None spoke, but each stood up as his gaze met theirs.
‘This is an ancient sword,’ he said. ‘Let the resolves in your heart be sealed by the sight of it. It’s an enemy to the enemies of life. It will serve you if you will serve it. I will serve you if you will serve me. The threat to Fyorlund is not to Fyorlund alone, and lies deeper by far than the machinations of one evil Lord. Its destruction may be the work of many generations.’ Then, looking round again at each of the standing men, ‘If this work, this service, is beyond you, speak now and go in peace, without reproach.’
The atmosphere in the room heightened perceptibly. Unknowingly, Hawklan had used the very words spoken to each Goraidin after his successful training and before his acceptance into the corps. No one moved or spoke and the distant comings and goings of the householders filtered into the room. Yatsu stood up and looked at his men, his friends, standing in two uncertain ranks either side of the extended sword.
‘My apologies, Commander Yatsu,’ Hawklan said. ‘But time is not with us. I don’t know whether I chose this road, or whether I was chosen for it, but I am here, and I must set the pace, not follow it.’
Yatsu looked straight at him. ‘Hawklan, we’re Goraidin. No slavish followers of any man. But you fit no mould-neither Goraidin nor Lord, nor anything I’ve ever met. You leave us at a loss.’ He looked again at his men and seemed to receive some subtle acquiescence. Gently he laid his hand on the black blade, and bowed. ‘Until time shows otherwise we’ll trust you to guard our backs,’ he said.
Hawklan bowed in reply. The Goraidin had given him the highest accolade they could. He returned it. ‘And I’ll trust you to guard mine, Commander-men.’
Chapter 37
It was a baleful sight that greeted those who looked across their City the following day. Early morning mist often swathed the plains around Vakloss, lapping like an idle tide at the foot of the great hill which bore the City, but today it had seeped up into the very streets and above, curling around the rooftops, its normal soft whiteness now a pale infected yellow. A single mottled plume of smoke rose straight into the air like a slender column supporting the hazy sky.
The sun shone a feeble and watery light over the scene as if the previous day had prematurely aged it into winter. No street traders jostled the morning quiet with their ritual contests for the most favourable places. No craftsmen or servants purposefully marched the streets to start their daily tasks. The streets were empty and quiet except for an occasional flitting shadow scurrying for safety and the rhythmic tramp of Mathidrin patrols seeking out such stragglers, and inexorably binding the City in a web of black intent.
Dan-Tor smiled, his teeth predatory white. The sight beneath him reminded him of Narsindal, with its creeping mists and long waiting silences. It was a good omen and it fed his soul. Today was going to be an excellent day, the first of many. Today he would begin to seize the power which he had been patiently edging towards for so long. His enemies had thrust it into his hands.
A movement disturbed him, like a mote in his eye. His forehead creased a little and the smile froze as his gaze flicked from side to side to seek out the offender. Then he saw it: sharp, black and clear-cut, a great black bird gliding over the City-his City-offending its portentous stillness. The black scar of clarity and its smooth harmonious movements jarred his pleasure at the sight of the exhausted, blurred City, unfocussed under its gauzy blanket and, without thinking, he reached out his hand to destroy the creature.
Hawklan, came the thought, and drawing in his breath, Dan-Tor withdrew also his intent. The bird disappeared behind a nearby tower and Dan-Tor leaned forward in anticipation of its gliding reappearance, but it did not emerge and he felt a wave of irritation at this further, if petty, unfulfilment.
Straightening up, he scowled angrily. That had been a serious mistake. He had used the rioting well for his own ends but the cause must surely have been Hawklan. Hawklan, elusive and enigmatic, must now be here, playing the hunter, seeking him out in his own lair. Briefly, he felt a twinge of fear, but he crushed it. That is your mistake, Hawklan, he thought. Your successes have made you over-confident. Now you’ve given me Fyorlund and I’ll draw you in like a fish in a net. And on a mere whimsy he might have dashed the cup from his own lips. To send the Old Power winging across the City, the City where Hawklan lay, just do destroy a bird! He closed his eyes in silent rage at his near folly.
Another figure stood looking out of a window, meditat-ing on the same events.
‘Keep away from the window, Hawklan,’ said Yatsu, entering the room quietly. ‘There are Mathidrin patrols everywhere and they need only the slightest excuse to arrest people. Just watching them is more than enough.’
Hawklan nodded and moved across to a low com-fortable chair that had housed him for most of the night. ‘You look tired,’ he said as Yatsu flopped into the chair’s partner opposite.
Yatsu blew a noisy breath and rubbed his face with his hands. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I am. And worried. I’ve been prowling the City all night trying to find out what’s happened.’
‘Can the Lords leave today?’ Hawklan said.
Yatsu shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘We’ll not even be able to move about the streets today. They’re already posting edicts up to that effect.’ He frowned. ‘They’ve been so fast. They seem to have recovered from the disturbance almost immediately. I was counting on at least one clear day of general confusion in which we could slip away, but… ’ His voice tailed off and he sat silent for a moment. ‘It’s all gone wrong,’ he concluded bitterly. ‘But I can’t begin to see where or why.’
‘Not all, Yatsu, not by any means,’ said Hawklan. ‘The Lords are free and at comparatively little cost. You’ve found two allies-for what they’re worth. And you know your Queen is with you, and perhaps thus your King.’
Yatsu looked at Hawklan. So the men had told him about their escapade. That was an interesting sign. ‘But… ’ he began.
Hawklan waved the word aside. ‘No buts, Yatsu. The game proved to be bigger than you thought. Probably more players than you realized. Still, if we can’t leave, then we must make the most of the time we have in talking and planning. But first, you must rest.’
Yatsu smiled wearily. ‘Needing to rest and being able to are not the same, healer. I’m battle-weary I know, and there are too many moves and counter-moves flowing through my head. But I can’t lay them to rest like I used to. I’m not the man I was twenty years ago. Can’t take the pace any more.’
Hawklan felt the man’s doubts and regrets. ‘You misjudge yourself,’ he said. ‘But I’ll help you.’
Yatsu shook his head and made as if to rise. ‘No,’ he said, ‘I haven’t the time.’
Hawklan reached across and put a hand on his shoulder and gently restrained him. ‘Yes you have, Commander,’ he said, his voice low and reassuring. ‘You’ve just admitted it.’ Yatsu felt the hand heavy and immovable on his shoulder. ‘You must rest quietly now,’ continued the low voice. ‘Just for a little while. Your friends are all rested and will watch for you. You know you can trust them. Soon we’ll talk and plan… talk and plan… when you’re rested… rested… ’
Hawklan’s voice faded into silence and, taking his hand from the now sleeping Yatsu’s shoulder, he gently placed a cushion under his head. He sat down again.
‘Come in, Lord Eldric,’ he said.
Rather sheepishly Eldric stepped into the room. ‘I can’t make you out, Hawklan,’ he said softly to avoid disturbing Yatsu. ‘Or your friend for that matter. The two of you faced down a Goraidin patrol, then, from what I can gather, virtually took charge of them. Your every move marks you out as a warrior and yet you look after our wounded and weary like… ’ He left the sentence unfinished and looked down at the sleeping Yatsu. He shuffled awkwardly. ‘I wasn’t spying out there, you know, I… I just didn’t want to disturb you.’ Hawklan smiled broadly and Eldric looked upwards, a mixture of annoyance and confusion on his face. ‘Why am I justifying myself to you?’ he said, then he leaned forward and asked the inevitable question. ‘Hawklan, who are you?’