Rhiannon raised the squat looped tube again. From it, now, a dim little globule of light not a spark, flew toward the nearing blaze.
And the blaze hesitated, wavered, then began to dull and die.
The witchfire of strange atomic reaction that Rhiannon had triggered he had now damped and killed by some limiting counter-factor whose nature Carse could not dream.
They poled the barge out onto the water as the quivering radiance behind them sank and died. And then the night was dark again and of Caer Dhu there was nothing to be seen but steam.
The voice of Rhiannon spoke, once more, “It is done” he said. “I have redeemed my sin.”
The Earthman felt the utter weariness of the being within him as the possession was withdrawn from his brain and body.
And then, again, he was only Matthew Carse.
XIX. Judgment of the Quiru
The whole world seemed hushed and still in the dawn as their barge went down to Sark. None of them spoke and none of them looked back at the vast white steam that still rolled solemnly up across the sky.
Carse felt numbed, drained of all emotion. He had let the wrath of Rhiannon use him and he could not yet feel quite the same. He knew that there was something of it still in his face, for the other two would not quite meet his eyes nor did they break the silence.
The great crowd gathered on the waterfront of Sark was silent too. It seemed that they had stood there for long looking toward Caer Dhu, and even now, after the glare of its destruction had died out of the sky, they stared with white, frightened faces.
Carse looked out at the Khond longships riding with their sails slack against the yards and knew that that terrible blaze had awed the Sea Kings into waiting.
The black barge glided in to the palace stair. The crowd surged forward as Ywain stepped ashore, their voices rising in a strange hushed clamor. And Ywain spoke to them.
“Caer Dhu and the Serpent both are gone—destroyed by the Lord Rhiannon.”
She turned instinctively toward Carse. And the eyes of all that vast throng dwelt upon him as the word spread, growing at last to an overwhelming cry of thankfulness. “Rhiannon! Rhiannon the Deliverer!” He was the Cursed One no longer, at least not to these Sarks. And for the first time, Carse realized the loathing they had had for the allies Gararch had forced upon them.
He walked toward the palace with Ywain and Boghaz and knew with a sense of awe how it felt to be a god. They entered the dim cool walls and it seemed already as though a shadow had gone out of them. Ywain paused at the doors of the throne room as though she had just remembered that she was ruler now in Garach’s place.
She turned to Carse and said, “If the Sea Kings still attack…”
“They won’t—not until they know what happened. And now we must find Rold if he still lives.”
“He lives,” said Ywain. “After the Dhuvians emptied Rold of his knowledge my father held him as hostage for me.”
They found the Lord of Khondor at last, chained in the dungeons deep under the palace walls. He was wasted and drawn with suffering but he still had the spirit left to raise his red head and snarl at Carse and Ywain.
“Demon,” he said. “Traitor. Have you and your hellcat come at last to kill me?”
Carse told him the story of Caer Dhu and Rhiannon, watching Rold’s expression change slowly from savage despair to a stunned and unbelieving joy.
“Your fleet stands off Sark under Ironbeard,” he finished. “Will you take this word to the Sea Kings and bring them in to parley?”
“Aye,” said Rold. “By the gods I will!” He stared at Carse, shaking his head. “A strange dream of madness these last days have been! And now—to think that I would have slain you gladly in the place of the Wise Ones with my own hand!”
That was shortly after dawn. By noon the council of the Sea Kings was assembled in the throne room with Rold at their head and Emer, who had refused to stay behind in Khondor.
They sat around a long table. Ywain occupied the throne and Carse stood apart from all of them. His face was stern and very weary and there was in it still a hint of strangeness.
He said with finality, “There need be no war now. The Serpent is gone and without its power Sark can no longer oppress her neighbors. The subject cities, like Jekkara and Valkis, will be freed. The empire of Sark is no more.”
Ironbeard leaped to his feet, crying fiercely. “Then now is our chance to destroy Sark forever!”
Others of the Sea Kings rose, Thorn of Tarak loud among them, shouting their assent. Ywain’s hand tightened upon her sword.
Carse stepped forward, his eyes blazing. “I say there will be peace! Must I call upon Rhiannon to enforce my word?”
They quieted, awed by that threat, and Rold bade them sit and hold their tongues.
“There has been enough of fighting and bloodshed,” he told them sternly. “And for the future we can meet Sark on equal terms. I am Lord of Khondor and I say that Khondor will make peace!”
Caught between Carse’s threat and Rold’s decision the Sea Kings one by one agreed. Then Emer spoke. “The slaves must all be freed—human and Halfling alike.”
Carse nodded. “It will be done.”
“And,” said Rold, “there is another condition.” He faced Carse with unalterable determination. “I have said we will make peace with Sark—but not, though you bring fifty Rhiannons against us, with a Sark that is ruled by Ywain!”
“Aye,” roared the Sea Kings, looking wolf-eyed at Ywain. “That is our word also.”
There was a silence then and Ywain rose from the high seat, her face proud and sombre.
“The condition is met,” she said. “I have no wish to rule over a Sark tamed and stripped of empire. I hated the Serpent as you did—but it is too late for me to be queen of a petty village of fishermen. The people may choose another ruler.”
She stepped down from the dais and went from them to stand erect by a window at the far end of the room, looking out over the harbor.
Carse turned to the Sea Kings. “It is agreed, then.”
And they answered, “It is agreed.”
Emer, whose fey gaze had not wavered from Carse since the beginning of the parley, came to his side now, laying her hand on his. “And where is your place in this?” she asked softly.
Carse looked down at her, rather dazedly. “I have not had time to think.”
But it must be thought of, now. And he did not know.
As long as he bore within him the shadow of Rhiannon this world would never accept him as a man. Honor he might have but never anything more and the lurking fear of the Cursed One would remain. Too many centuries of hate had grown around that name.
Rhiannon had redeemed his crime but even so, as long as Mars lived, he would be remembered as the Cursed One.
As though in answer, for the first time since Caer Dhu, the dark invader stirred and his thought-voice whispered in Carse’s mind.
“Go back to the Tomb and I will leave you, for I would follow my brothers. After that you are free. I can guide you back along that pathway to your own time if you wish. Or you can remain here.”
And still Carse did not know.
He liked this green and smiling Mars. But as he looked at the Sea Kings, who were waiting for his answer, and then beyond them through the windows to the White Sea and the marshes, it came to him that this was not his world, that he could never truly belong to it.
He spoke at last and as he did so he saw Ywain’s face turned toward him in the shadows.
“Emer knew and the Halflings also that I was not of your world. I came out of space and time, along the pathway which is hidden in the Tomb of Rhiannon.”