From where they stand and sit atop rubble, Veloc and Keera join their suddenly eloquent friend, and the three proceed to stand by the side of Stasi, her rider, and her daughter; and it is quite as clear from their expressions as it was from Heldo-Bah’s words that their opinions on where Caliphestros truly belongs have quickly changed.
“That we may fully understand one another — you continue to believe in the righteousness and honesty of the God-King and the Layzin, Yantek?” Veloc queries. “Because of two pieces of parchment that bear the ‘royal and holy seal’?”
“Do not presume to speak for me, Veloc,” Arnem warns. “My beliefs and reservations are well known. But I have the authority. It shall not be reversed — for I command the only power in Broken that could enforce such a reversal.”
“Ah,” Caliphestros noises. “So we come to it at last: power. Your power will put all things right. Tell me, Yantek: did it never occur to you that it was power that destroyed Rendulic Baster-kin — who was, I have told you, not doing evil, as he saw it, but obediently enforcing the will of the God-King?”
Arnem nods. “‘The last good man in Broken,’ you said.”
“As indeed he was — by your kingdom’s standards. Your wife knew him as a youth. Was he the same soul then, lady, that power would later make him?”
“In his essence,” Isadora answers, now wishing to defend her husband. “Later, when he had the ability, and was not troubled by pain—”
“Yes — when he had power. He planned the death of his wife — who died during our march — and thought to have rid himself of a belovèd daughter, while keeping an unfortunate and disowned son virtually enslaved. Power allowed him to do all this, yet he thought himself doing only right — for his God-King and the realm. Even when he both courted and threatened you, Lady Isadora, and attempted to arrange the death of your husband and his men, he believed that he did so for the good of Broken, with the power given to him by the true evil that inhabits this place. Well …” Glad in his heart to see that the three foragers have moved to the South Gate and have apparently decided to accompany him as he departs the city, Caliphestros finally says, “Believe it all, if you will, and if you must, Sixt Arnem. Do your very best, for remember”—and suddenly Caliphestros turns a look on Arnem that cuts the yantek to his very soul—“you are the last good man in Broken, now, and therefore the most dangerous. You will do all manner of evil in the name of good — and your first test will come immediately. For I swear to you, if you wish me to stay, you must kill me, as well as my Bane friends — who will, I suspect, advise Ashkatar and his men to take a similar view. We who belong in the Wood will return to it — and you interfere at your peril, less to your life than to your soul.”
“But, master,” Visimar says, as Caliphestros at last moves toward the gate. “You will not even advise us from afar?”
“Visimar, my old friend,” comes a more congenial reply. “You have learned to survive in this city — now you shall even thrive. But, once again, beware. The day will come when each of you will come to understand, in his or her own way, that Baster-kin was not the sole, or in many cases even the primary, source of Broken’s perfidy. You know such in your heart even now, Lady Arnem. But I will promise you this—” Caliphestros leans over to stroke Stasi’s neck, urging patience on the increasingly anxious panther. “If the day ever comes when you do discover and realize what that true evil is, and wish to confront it — then, if I still live, I shall return to assist you. But for now, I must bid you all farewell …”
The old man at last allows the panthers to move toward the gate, the resigned Arnem indicating to his own men that no last obstacle is to be put to either the rider, his mount, the second panther, or the three foragers; and, as Caliphestros finally passes through the South Gate, he laughs once: a complex sort of laughter, of a type Keera has come to know well. “Fear not, Visimar,” the departing scholar calls. “We shall be in contact by the usual means.” He gives his old friend a final, earnest glance. “For it would indeed grieve me not to know how you do fare …”
“But — where shall we find you, master?” Visimar calls.
“You shall not,” Caliphestros answers, passing out of the gate. “Only three humans know of my — of our—lair. And I believe—” He casts a glance at the three foragers. “I believe I may rely on them never to reveal that location.”
“The golden god may descend to Earth, and I shall carve him a new anus with my the sword you gave me, old man,” Heldo-Bah says with a grin, his disposition utterly changed, “before I will ever reveal any such thing.”
“The Moon’s truth,” Veloc adds. “I may compose the saga of our journey — but I shall never reveal just where we found you.”
“Trust in it,” Keera assures the rider gently. “Those two shall never reveal the location, nor shall I. But may we — may I — not visit you, from time to time?”
“You are always welcome, Keera,” Caliphestros replies. “As for your brother and the other?” Suddenly smiling gently, the old man seems to soften at last. “I suppose they may come, if they wish. But in the name of whatever is holy, make Heldo-Bah bathe. As to now — you must be away, to advise Ashkatar of all that has taken place. I will make directly for the Wood with my companions.” He glances down at Stasi and her daughter, deeply contented. “Yes — we shall make for home …”
And at that, the two panthers and the man who still, somehow, has the strength to stay astride the greater of the two, immediately begin to run at full pace, the foragers struggling to keep up. But it is not long before they have all vanished, into the last stands of trees on the high slopes of Broken and then amid the strange mist that continues to encircle the mountain.
Watching the group disappear from sight, Arnem, his wife and son say not a word as they walk to the ruins of the gate. Only Niksar breaks the silence:
“Yantek! Shall I detail a fauste of horsemen to pursue?”
“And what would your purpose be, Linnet?” Visimar asks, his eyes growing thinner, hoping for a last glimpse of his master. “You, your men, all of us, owe that little troop our lives, it would seem. Would you try to bring Caliphestros back, and break his will? This kingdom attempted that, once, and failed.”
“Failed rather badly,” Isadora murmurs, reaching inside her husband’s armor to ensure that the medallion she put there upon his departure remains in place.
“Yes — rather badly, indeed,” Arnem agrees, looking at her briefly.
“Yet having aided you thus far, Father,” says Dagobert, “they will simply — disappear?”
“I have never been given cause to doubt Lord Caliphestros,” Arnem answers. “Nor do I think that he has given me any such, now — he says that if and when a day comes that we discover a deeper evil at work in this city than has yet been discovered, we may contact him through Lord Visimar, who will now, I hope, take the position of high honor I offered to his master.”