A proper path had now been cut in the steep-scrambling slope leading upwards for a league or so to the cliff heights where stood the Towers of X-n'dix. The Greater Tower was, as ever, sealed against entry, its bone-white heights soaring skywards for half a league with a jade and jacinth dragon draped around it.
But the Lesser Tower, that pile of sculptured skulls, bones, heads, fangs, claws and other pieces of anatomy both human and alien, was accessible as always. Within dwelt Epelthin Elkin, who greeted Sean Sarazin warmly when he arrived with Jarl and Glambrax in tow.
The old scholar was wearing a faded, much-patched robe of green and purple. Once it had been a truly gorgeous garment, but the rigours of life in Hok had aged it rapidly. Elkin, however, was unchanged. For as long as Sarazin could remember, the old man had looked much the same. Wisp-frail grey beard, grey hair pigtail-plaited, mahogany skin walnut wrinkled, sky-zenith eyes bloodshot but sharp, stance upright as ever. I'm afraid I bring bad news,' said Sarazin.
Then bravely told how he had foolishly revealed the secrets of the Gates to Lord Regan and Jaluba. And how Jaluba still lived.
Then we must expect invasion from Stokos,' said Elkin gravely. 'Magic may perhaps defeat such invasion,' said Sarazin.
'Have you brought magic with you to X-zox, then?' said Jarl, with a laugh. 'Don't look to old Elkin for any! He is but a fraud, as I've told you already.'
Which reminded Sarazin once again that the Rovac warrior did not know that Elkin was truly a wizard. Well? Could Elkin's magic save them from invasion? The old wizard of Ebber had often pleaded weakness in the past – had in fact insisted more on the weaknesses of magic than its strengths.
Of course, a little bit of Sarazin's magic green candle remained, safe in Glambrax's keeping. A potent weapon indeed! But such a fragment would not burn for long. To think that such might repel an invasion was at best a poor joke. But…
Why should Stokos be at war with Hok? There was no reason that Sarazin could see. Perhaps the conflict could be resolved by treaty.
'Elkin,' said Sarazin, "Pray tell, what quarrel has Stokos with us?'
'Come,' said Jarl, 'this is no time to talk politics. You'll be wanting to meet your mother. And your father, of course.'
When Epelthin Elkin had first explored the Lesser Tower – years ago, in the course of Sarazin's campaign in Hok against the ogre Tor – he had found many doors, cupboards and chambers which he could not open.
Since then, the elderly wizard had sought to open these, hoping to find treasure left by the Dissidents who had built Castle X-n'dix. Elkin had been largely successful in his efforts, and, while the amount of treasure he had uncovered was zero, this did mean that there was plenty of living space within the Lesser Tower.
It meant, for example, that Fox and Farfalla had a room to themselves. A small room, admittedly, but dragon- lamps within gave light, and an arrowslit allowed a view of a fraction of the sky.
Though Jarl had told Sarazin his parents were fit and well, Sarazin found his father ill, his skin an unhealthy yellow. He had hepatitis. Sean Sarazin, who had been long laid up in bed with the same disease after his disastrous campaign in the marshlands of Tyte, knew just how miserable his father must be feeling.
Still, the occasion was joyful regardless. A time for kisses and embraces. 'Do you know,' said Farfalla, 'we're getting married.' 'When?' said Sarazin. 'On Midsummer's Day,' said Fox. "Not long to go now.' 'Congratulations!' said Sarazin.
Then, after a great deal of talking – he had adventures to tell of, and his parents had tales of adventures of their own – he finally got round to telling the bad news. About the Words.
'The enemy can likely breach the Passage Gates,' con- cluded Sarazin soberly.
Then,' said Fox, 'your next step must be to see Heth. Have you been told yet?' 'Told what?' said Sarazin.
Fox and Farfalla looked at each other. Then both broke into laughter. 'What's the joke?' said Sarazin angrily.
There was no joke as far as he could see. He had betrayed a secret vital to the defence of X-zox. Now he was due to confront the ruler of that land, the mysterious Heth, who would surely be most unhappy with him. Sean Sarazin had survived the wrath of other princes, true – he had lived through his encounters with Drake Douay and Tarkal of Chenameg. But could he be sure of surviving a third such encounter? He was not optimist enough to count on it.
'Go,' said Fox, waving away Sarazin's questions. 'Go. See Heth. The sooner you know, the better.'
Sarazin, brain positively boiling with unanswered questions, was taken by Thodric Jarl to Heth's quarters.
'How does Heth like to be addressed?' said Sarazin anxiously. 'As Lord Heth? King Heth? Lord Emperor Heth?' 'Don't worry about that,' said Jarl firmly. 'Remember what I told you. Heth is not ruler in his own right. He does but hold Hok in trust for a greater ruler.'
Sarazin was scarcely reassured, but put a brave front on it regardless as Jarl led him into Heth's quarters. There they found the man himself seated on a goatskin-padded chair, sharpening a sword. He looked up as they entered. He was a big man. Blond. And, to Sarazin's eye, undistinguished. 'Hello, Sean,' he said. 'Hello… Heth,' said Sarazin uncertainly. 'Don't you remember me?' said Heth. 'Should I?' said Sarazin. 'I was your prisoner once.'
Sarazin began to sweat. Not another person with a grudge against him!
'I've had many people technically my prisoner,' said Sarazin. 'Anarchists in Tyte, though if I remember cor- rectly there were but two of them, and both lepers. But, after a battle by the banks of the Shouda How-' 'I was your prisoner in Hok,' said Heth. Sarazin stared at him. Then:
'Not… not the commander?' said Sarazin. 'The com- mander of the Eagle Pass? Tor's minion.' 'The same,' said Heth.
And now, of course, it all came flooding back. The capture of Heth when Sarazin's men stormed the Eagle Pass when they first invaded Hok. Heth forced to march with Sarazin and his companions to the Eastern Passage Gate. Heth compelled to travel with them to X-zox. Heth forced to swear… To swear…
You swore an oath,' said Sarazin slowly. 'An oath of fealty, was it not? The words… the exact words…' The exact words escaped him.
'I swore lifelong loyalty to you,' said Heth. 'I swore that if King Tor died then I'd follow you forever, to death and beyond. And Tor is dead. So… welcome to your kingdom, Lord Sarazin!'
CHAPTER SEVENTY
Then Sean Sarazin was plunged into one of the busiest times of his life. While Jarl planned the defence of X-zox with help from Fox (but with no help from Heth, a willing fighter but no military genius) Sarazin got to work.
First he had to absorb at least the bare outlines of Hok's recent history so he could properly understand his position. As Sarazin already knew, the ogre Tor had once been king of Stokos. When driven from his kingdom by the worshippers of a new religion – that of the Flame – Tor had eventually settled in Hok.
Half-hearted attacks by the Harvest Plains had failed to dislodge Tor from Hok. Then the ogre had launched a campaign to recapture Stokos from the adherents of the Flame. Unfortunately, the Flame worshippers had leagued with pirates, and had defeated Tor and had killed him.
Not all of Tor's men had died with their king. Some, notably Heth, had retreated back to Hok. Heth, the most senior of Tor's surviving officers, had done a deal with Epelthin Elkin, who had let him rent most of the Lesser Tower and use it as a castle. Thanks to Elkin's assistance, Heth had eventually become master of all the various refugees who had taken up residence in Hok.
After Tor's death, Stokos itself had been ruled by the pirates of the Greater Teeth. However, the strength of the pirates was broken at Androlmarphos, when the water thieves – then allied to Elkor Alish – had suffered a terrible defeat at the hands of Morgan Hearst.