“Child, child, how can I make you understand? This night I am as one with Her, I ride with Her across the skies and can see all that She sees. It is only through Her powers that you look now upon my likeness, for my body actually lies yonder, within the council house.”
The brahbehrnuh shivered, despite herself. Then, “If you … if you are a … a part of Our Lady, I … will believe, will do all that you can say if … if … if you will tell me my name. Tell me my secret name, the name I chose when first I became bahbehrnuh, the name which not even my lover knows, the name I have silently whispered only to the Goddess at Her shrine.”
The nahkhahrah smiled gently. “It is a beautiful name, child. It was the name of my dear mother. It is Rahksahnah.”
All the blood drained from the brahbehrnuh’s face, her strong legs wobbled, and only her grasp upon the table kept her from falling. She tried to speak, but could only gasp and stutter. Then, finally, she found her voice, though it was as weak as her body.
“I believe. It shall be as you, as She commands. The Maidens will ride at dawn.”
The nahkhahrah briefly flickered out, then reappeared to add, “Pass wide of what was your home, Rahksahnah. The entrance now is sealed. To scale the heights and climb the walls would only be to die. And you must not die, for, ere you see my village again, you will find him who will make of you a true woman, give you a future of happiness and ease and children.
“I sense rebellion in your heart, child. Expel it. Yon must realize that the old ways of the Maidens are dead this night, dead and buried as the land which spawned you all will soon be. You must forget the past and accept the newness of the future, if you are to survive.
“Now I must leave you, for there is still much I must do ere the Lady complete Her journey.”
Again the nahkhahrah swooped east. Over the range to the Great Plateau, then high over the expanse of sere grasses and frozen, rocky soil to the newly raised ramparts—raw earth and green logs and ancient blocks of stone. Unseen, he stood upon the wallwalk while an officer made his rounds. The block of granite beside the nahkhahrah once had been polished and engraved and it still bore ancient letters: NAL BANK OF.
He blinked. He saw the whole of the building of which the stone had once been a part, saw the other buildings about it, saw the odd folk who walked and talked and laughed and ate and loved, saw their black roads striped with yellow and white. He saw the folk conveyed upon their roads in large and small magical wagons, which made fearsome noises and trailed smoke behind. He saw thousands of bright lights, of every conceivable color, shining boldly or flickering in and out of fantastical designs.
He blinked. He saw the buildings and the roads again, but gone were the folk, gone too were the lights., Few were the wagons and they obviously had lost their magic, for they sat smashed and torn and rusting upon the cracked, weed-springing roads. The buildings, also, were dirt-streaked, many were sagging, and their windows gaped like the eyesockets of the skulls in the council-house rafters.
He blinked. He saw the broken block, now forming a merlon atop the battlement of the lowlanders’ fort. He and his folk had pastured goats and cattle on this plateau time out of mind without ever suspecting that a city of the Earth-Gods lay beneath their feet.
“You have not much longer, My love. Hurry, Kohg, for soon I must send you back.”
Milo awakened all in a breath, his hand immediately seeking the familiar hilt of his pillow-sword. At the foot of his couch stood a tall old man, devoid of any clothing. The face, though seamed and wind-darkened, still was handsome and the unbowed, muscular body bore the scars of a warrior. A single glance at the set of the intelligent eyes and the big nose, hooked like a hawk’s beak, told the High Lord the man’s race.
“Ahrmehnee!” he breathed. “How the devil did you get in here, old man? What do you want? If you’ve come to slay me …”
The visitor shook his snowy mane. “I am aware that steel cannot harm you, Milo of Moral I am Kohg Taishyuhn, the nahkhahrah of the Thirteen Tribes of the Ahrmehnee. I am come to seek peace with you and a place for my people in your Confederation.”
VI
Thoheeks Bili of Morguhn felt the first tingling and relaxed his mind to allow for easier farspeak.
“Bili,” beamed the High Lord, “our war with the Ahrmehnee is ended. Send word to all your columns to retire back to the trade road and return to Vawn through Baikuh. Take your own force and ride northwest. You are seeking a muletrain which is led by three of the Witchmen … well, one is a woman. If you meet a force of armored, mounted Ahnnehnee women, do not be surprised; they’re after the same quarry.
“I’d like to have at least one of the Witchfolk alive, but remember, what I’ve told you of them and their wiles and take no chances. The treasure they carry belongs rightfully to the Ahrmehnee warrior women of whom I just spoke. They are all virgins but, forgiving them that, the man who’s seeking a rich wife could scarcely do better to my way of thinking. By the by, Bili, the brahbehrnuh, their leader, is reputed to be a proud, long-legged, handsome creature named Rahksahnah. She is of a long-lived, gifted race and should throw good colts, many of them.
“As for the machines they carry, I would prefer that they be smashed or, better yet, dumped in some deep, swift river.
“You’ll be far west, Bili, so it’s possible you’ll chance across Mehrikan-speaking barbarians called Muhkohee. They are sly, savage and treacherous, lad. Even the wild Ahnnehnee fear them, so beware.
“Sun and Wind keep you all, Bili. Come to the nahkhahrah’s village when you are done.”
Vaskos Daiviz of Morguhn, commander of the city of Vawnpolis, looked briefly at the stiffening corpse and repressed a shudder with difficulty. A veteran of the almost constant border wars of the Confederation, he was no stranger to terrible sights. Nor did a man make the ascent from common spearman to sub-strahteegos without being an exceedingly tough and thick-skinned soldier. And Vaskos was both. Nonetheless, this body and the two found last week had chilled him to the very marrow.
All three had been women, young women. But had neighbors or friends not reported them missing, there would have been no chance of ascertaining the identities of the cadavers. Whoever had butchered them had, in all three cases, used a knife to mutilate their faces so that not even their mothers would have known them. Nor were these horrors the worst, for, after all, wounds wrought by steel were an old and familiar story to the commander.
No, what sent the cold prickling to Vaskos’ nape while nausea churned in his belly were the other enormities perpetrated by the killer or killers. From the knees to the necks, the poor women had been savagely flogged, front and back. And atop the welts and cuts of the whip were the crowning horrors—the tears and gouges of teeth, human teeth, which kad gnawed at the victim like an animal, ripping away chunks of flesh.
After the discovery of the first grisly remains by an early-morning patrol, Vaskos had concluded that none save a maniac could have done such a thing. Therefore he had sought out the keepers of Myros the Mad. But Captain Danos and all six of his men had attested that the former vahrohnos of Deskati had remained locked in his windowless chamber throughout the entire night And since members of Vaskos’ own staff had heard the madman’s howls from time to time during the questioned time period, he had no choice but to scratch the suspect from his mental list.
After the second murder, he had doubled the night patrols, even though that meant putting a sizable number of former rebels back under arms. But this morning’s find had proved even those measures ineffective. So he called his officers into council, inviting as well the few remaining former rebel officers: Captain Kahrlos, Captain Danos and Vahrohneeskos Kahzos Boorsohthehpsees of Vawn, once deputy commander of the rebel city.