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"You are not, then, from Mittelmarch originally?"

"I am from Alsatia. Few who dwell here were born here. This valley and one or two other places are exceptions. Some exist here as shadows. Some exist as shadows in your world. It is very puzzling, captain. I am not brave enough to look at the problem with a steady eye. Not as yet. I have a feeling that if I did, I should die. Now, you will be wanting to be gone from die Valley of the Golden Cloud, eh? And on your way. I will escort you to the Western Gate. A trail will lead you through the mountains and onto a good road out of Mittelmarch."

"How shall I know which road it is?"

"There are not many roads in these parts, captain."

We had returned to the glade where a frowning Sedenko awaited us. "I believed you murdered or kidnapped, Captain von Bek."

I felt almost lighthearted. "Nonsense, Grigory Petrovitch! Master Groot has been of considerable help to me."

Sedenko sniffed at the strong odour of Hungary Water. "You trust him?"

"As much as I can trust myself."

Groot beckoned. "Pack your goods, gentlemen. I will walk with you to the Western Gate."

When we were ready to ride, the little dandy removed a lacy kerchief from his sleeve and mopped his brow beneath his hat. "The day grows warm," he said. With his tall cane held at a graceful angle, he began to stroll back to the road. "Come, my friends. You'll be out of here by nightfall if we hurry."

We walked our horses in Groot's wake as he moved rapidly along, more like a dancing master than anything else, humming to himself and commenting on the beauties of the fields and cottages we passed on our way, until at length we reached the far side of the valley and a gatehouse very similar to that by which we had entered. Here, Groot hailed the guard.

"Friends are leaving," he said. "Let them pass."

The guard, in the same livery as we had seen before, moved his horse aside and the portcullis was raised. At the gate Philander Groot paused, looking out at the trail, which wound up and up until it reached the golden mist. His expression was hard to read. I thought for a moment his eyes were those of a prisoner or an exile yearning to go home, but when he turned his face to me he had the same controlled, amused expression. "Here we are, captain. I will wish you good luck and good judgement on your Quest. It would be pleasing if we could meet again, in the fullness of time. I shall follow your adventure, as best I can, from here. And I shall follow it with interest."

"Why not come with us?" I said impulsively. "We should be encouraged by your company and I for one would be glad of your conversation."

"It is tempting, captain. I say that with all sincerity. But it is my decision to remain here for a while and so remain I shall. But know that I go with you in spirit."

A final elaborate bow, a wave, and Philander Groot was stepping backwards to let us ride through the gate. The portcullis closed behind us. A scented kerchief fluttered.

Soon we were engulfed again in golden mist and once more resorted to our cloaks as the weather grew colder.

By the time we were out of the mist, night had come and we camped upon the trail, there being no other suitable place. By morning we were able to look down at the far foothills of the mountains and know that very soon we should be on level ground again. We had not gone more than half an hour along our way before we heard the pounding of hooves and, looking back, observed some twenty armoured men coming up at a gallop.

Their leader was not armoured. I saw black and white. I saw a purple plume. I recognised Sedenko's former master and my sworn enemy, the warrior-priest Klosterheim.

We spurred our horses forward, hoping to outrun the armoured pack. There was something mysterious about them. Their armour glowed. Indeed, it seemed to bum, though only with black fire. Wisps of mist escaped the helms, and the mist was a terrible grey colour, as if the lungs which breathed it were in some way polluted.

"What can the Knight of Christ be doing with that company?" Sedenko gasped to me. "If ever creatures bore the stamp of Hell it is they. How can they be serving God's Purpose?"

I wanted to retort that if I served the Devil's then perhaps they could serve God's, but I bit back the comment and concentrated on doing my best to control my horse's descent of the trail. His hooves were slipping and twice he almost went over…once where a chasm loomed.

"We shall perish if we maintain this speed!" I said. "Yet Klosterheim means us harm for certain. And we cannot hope to defeat armoured knights."

We sought escape. There was none. We could go forward, or we could stand and wait for Klosterheim's devilish troop. As the trail widened I spied ahead that it entered a cleft in the rock, hardly space enough for one man to pass. It would be there, if anywhere, we could defend ourselves. I pointed, pulling at my reins. My horse reared. Sedenko saw my meaning and nodded. He dashed past me into the cleft, then turned his horse cautiously, inch by inch. I threw him one of my pistols and a pouch of shot and powder, backing my own horse round. With the cleft on both sides of us we could command our front without risk of attack from any other quarter.

Klosterheim scarcely realised what we had done as he raced forward. I aimed my pistol at him, drew back the hammer and then discharged. The shot went wide of him, but it served to halt him of a sudden. He shouted, glared, shortened his rein and held up a stilling hand to his pack. They stopped with unnatural discipline.

"Klosterheim," I called, "what do you want with us?"

"I want nothing from Sedenko, who can continue on his way without fear," said the thin-faced priest. "But it is your life I want, von Bek, and nothing less."

"Can I have given you so much offence?"

It was then that I realised we were still in Mittelmarch. I began to chuckle. "Oh, Klosterheim, what terrible things you have done in God's name! Were our Master still the creature He was, He would be more than pleased with you. You are as damned as the rest of us! And you are one of those who fears that my Quest shall bring an end to everything, mat you will have no home, no master, no future, no identity. Is that why you fear me so, Klosterheim?"

Johannes Klosterheim almost growled in reply. His eyes darted from side to side of the trail. He looked upwards. He was seeking a means of outranking us. There was none. "You reckon without my power," he said. "That has not been taken from me. Arioch!"

He cried the name of one of Lucifer's Dukes, perhaps his patron. He moved his hand as if he flung an invisible ball at the cliff. Something cracked high overhead. It might have been lightning. A disgusting smell came into my nostrils.

"Try the pistol, Sedenko," I murmured.

The gun boomed from behind me and I felt its flash. The ball went wide of Klosterheim, and I heard it strike a glowing black breastplate and then bounce against a rock.

"Arioch!"

Again the lightning and I glimpsed a huge piece of rock as it fell away from the outer wall of the crevice and dropped hundreds of feet into the chasm on the other side.

"You are a powerful magus, Klosterheim," said I. "And one wonders why you posed for so long as a holy priest."

"I am holy," said Klosterheim through his teeth. "My cause is the noblest there has ever been. I leagued myself with Lucifer to destroy God! I have been about the world showing, in the name of God, what horrors can exist. There was no cause nobler than Lucifer's…and now He seeks to capitulate, to abandon us, to let Hell and all it stands for be swept away. As Lucifer defied God, so it is my right to defy Lucifer. We are threatened with betrayal. He is my Master, von Bek, as well as yours. And I have served Him well!"