The Queen of the Swords

And when they came at last to Llarak-an-Fol, they found that there was fighting in the streets.

Very few of the cities of Lywm-an-Esh were walled and Llarak was no exception. She had long, low houses of stone and carved timber, all brightly painted. The house of the Duke of Bedwilral was not immediately evident for it was little different from the other larger houses in the city, but Rhalina pointed it out. The fighting was quite close to the Duke's residence and near it a building was burning.

The Company of Allomglyl began to ride down towards the city, leaving the women in the hills.

'It seems some of those Chaos priests were more persuasive than Verenak,' Prince Corum shouted to Rhalina as she prepared her spear.

They galloped into the outskirts of the town. The streets were empty and silent. From the centre came a great noise of battle.

'You had best lead us,' he said to her, 'for you'll know who are the Duke's men and who are not.'

She increased her speed without a word and they followed her into the middle of Llarak-an-Fol.

There they were. Men in blue livery with helmets and shields similar to those borne by Rhalina's men were fighting a mixed force of peasants and what were evidently professional soldiers.

'The men in blue are the Duke's,' she called. 'Those in brown and purple are the city guard. There was always, I gather, a certain rivalry between the two.'

Corum felt reluctance to engage them, not because he was afraid but because he bore no malice towards them.

The peasants, in particular, hardly knew why they fought and doubtless the city guard was barely conscious of the fact that Chaos was working through them to create conflict. They had been filled with a vague sense of unrest and, with the pushing of the priests of Urleh, had resorted to anger and to arms.

But Rhalina was already leading her horsemen through in a lance charge. The spears dipped and the cavalry drove into the mass of men, cutting a wide path through their ranks. Most of the enemy was unmounted and Corum's axe flew up and down as he chopped at the heads of those who, still with astonishment on their faces, sought to stop his advance. His horse reared and whinnied and its hooves flailed and at least a dozen peasants and guards had died before they had joined with the Duke's men and had turned to drive back the way they had come.

Already, to Corum's relief, many of the peasants had dropped their weapons and were running. The few guards fought on and now Corum could see armed priests fighting with them. A small man - almost a dwarf - on a big, yellow charger, a massive broadsword in his left hand, was shouting encouragement to the newcomers. By his dress Corum decided that this must. be the Duke himself.

'Lay down your arms!' the small man yelled to the guards. 'You will have mercy! You will be spared!'

Corum saw a guard look about him and then drop his sword. Instantly the man was cut down by the Chaos priest nearest to him.

'Fight to the death!' screamed the priest. 'If you betray Chaos now your souls will suffer more than your bodies could!'

But the surviving guards had plainly lost heart and one of them turned with resentment on the priest who had slain his comrade. His sword slashed at the man who went down trying to staunch the blood that suddenly erupted from his severed jugular.

Corum sheathed his war-axe. The pathetic little battle was virtually over. Rhalina's men and the warriors in blue livery closed on the few who still fought and disarmed them.

The small man on the large horse rode up to where Rhalina had joined Corum and Jhary-a-Conel. The little black and white cat still clung to Jhary's shoulder and it looked more puzzled than frightened by what it had witnessed.

'I am Duke Gwelhen of Bedwilral,' announced the small man. 'I thank thee mightily for thine aid. But I recognize thee not. Thou art not from Nyvish or Adwyn and, if ye be from farther afield, then ye could not have heard of my plight in time to save me!'

Rhalina removed her helm. She spoke as formally as the Duke. 'Dost thou not recognize me, Duke Gwelhen?'

'I fear not. My memory for faces…'

She laughed. 'It was many years past. I am Rhalina who married your cousin's son…'

'Whose responsibility was the Margravate of Allomglyl. But I learned that he died in a shipwreck.'

'It is so,' she said gravely.

'But I thought Castle Moidel taken by the sea these many years. Where have you been in the meantime, my child?'

'Until recently I ruled at Moidel, but now the barbarians of the East have driven us out and we ride to warn you that what you have experienced here today is only a trifle of what Chaos will do if unchecked.'

Duke Gwelhen rubbed at his beard. He returned his attention to the prisoners for a moment and issued some orders, then he smiled slowly. 'Well, well. And who is this brave fellow with the eye-patch - and this one, who has a pretty cat on his shoulder, and…'

She laughed. 'I will explain, Duke Gwelhen, if we may guest in your hall.'

'I would hope that you would! Come. This sad business is done. We'll to the hall now.'

In Gwelhen's simple hall they ate a simple meal of cheese and cold meats washed down by locally brewed beer.

'We are not used to fighting these days,' Gwelhen said after introductions had been made and they had explained how they came to Llarak. 'In some ways today's skirmish was a bloodier business than it might have been. If my men had more experience, they might have contained the thing and taken most of them prisoner, but they panicked. And it's likely that I'd have been dead by now if your Company had not arrived. But all you tell me of this war between Law and Chaos makes much sense of various moods I have had of late. You heard how I banished the Temple of Urleh? Its adherents had taken to morbid, unhealthy pursuits. There were some murders - other things… I could not explain them. We are content here. None starves or goes in need of anything. There was no reason for the unrest. So we are victims of powers beyond our control, are we? I like not that - whether it be Law or Chaos. I would prefer to remain neutral…'

'Aye,' said Jhary-a-Conel. 'Any thinking man does in these conflicts. Yet there are times when sides must be taken lest all that one loves is destroyed. I have never known another answer to the problem, though the taking of an extreme position will always make a man lose something of his humanity.'

'My feelings,' murmured Gwelhen, motioning with his beer mug at Jhary.

'And all of ours,' Rhalina agreed. 'Yet unless we are ready for King Lyr's attack, Lywm-an-Esh will be brutally destroyed.

'She is dying, for the sea takes more land every year,' said Gwelhen thoughtfully. 'Yet she should die at her own speed. We must convince the king, however…'

'Who rules now in Halwyg-nan-Vake?' Rhalina asked.

He looked at her in surprise. 'The Margravate was indeed remote! Onald-an-Gyss is our king. He is old Onald's nephew - his uncle died without issue…'

'And what of his temperament - for these things are decided on temperament - does he favour Law or Chaos?'

'Law, I would think, but I cannot say the same for his captains. Military men being what they are…'

'Perhaps they have already decided,' Jhary murmured. 'If the whole land is seized by the strife we have witnessed thus far, then a strong man supporting Chaos might have deposed the king, just as an attempt was made to depose you, Duke Gwelhen.'

'We must ride at once to Halwyg,' Corum. said.

The Duke nodded. 'Aye - at once. Yet a largish company rides with you. It would be a week at least before you reached the capital.'

'The company must follow us,' Rhalina decided. 'Beldan, will you command it and bring it to Halwyg?'