"That cannot be helped," Despair said.
"We are so alone," the Thissians mourned.
"Nor can I offer any comfort to you," Despair said. "In the whole universe there are no others like you. You will remain alone, yet I will cherish you above all other allies." Despair paused. "Will you share my fate?"
The Thissians hissed and crackled for a moment as they spoke in their own tongue; after a bit one answered, "We shall."
Despair smiled in satisfaction.
"Now," he said, "the Earth warns that my fortress will soon be under attack. From what quarter comes the danger?"
The Thissians hesitated a moment. "There is a treasure that you seek-rods of blood metal. They have fallen into enemy hands…" After a bit longer, "They will use them… they come… to free the Worldbinder."
"Can we thwart their plan?"
"Yes, O Great Wyrm, easily. Send your Knights Eternal…"
Despair stood facing one of his Knights Eternal, Kryssidia.
"Take your companion and fly to Caer Luciare in all haste." The Death Lord in command of Caer Luciare had been slain. Despair did not even know the name of the wyrmling now in charge. "Tell the commander of the fortress that I need a shipment now-enough blood metal for two thousand forcibles, no less."
Despair felt in his heart. Giving this command would make a difference, the Earth agreed. The danger diminished, but did not dissipate completely. Despair did not understand why. Perhaps two thousand forcibles was not enough. Or perhaps they would not arrive in time.
He considered ordering a larger shipment, but that did not ease his mind. No, he needed them quickly-just as the Thissians had warned.
It was a long way to Caer Luciare. The Knights Eternal would not be able to fly there and back in a single night. They would be forced to land short of their mark, wait out the day tomorrow. So he added, "Let nothing delay you. Fly there and return without rest. It would be better for you to break your necks in your haste than to let me down."
Kryssidia glanced uncomfortably upward to where the thin evening light streamed above the rocks along the bowl of the volcano s cone, but he did not hesitate. He dropped to one knee, put a hand upon the hilt of his sword, and said, "Your every desire commands my deeds."
Then he nodded to his companion and the Knights Eternal leapt into the sky.
Despair wished that he had more knights like these. His Death Lords, with their ability to communicate from spirit to spirit across the leagues, had certain advantages, but they could not take endowments.
He made a mental note to have some warriors go down among the wyrmling horde to find some pregnant females. Knights Eternal could only be recruited from stillborn babes. The rites necessary to create the proper conditions were long and arduous, and as part of the ceremony, his priest needed to strangle a fetus while it was still in the womb, and then rip it from its mother. As the child lay dying, it would crave air, crave life, and if the child was cunning enough, the Death Lords had a brief window of opportunity to teach it the spells necessary to tear the life force from those around it.
If it survived the first five minutes out of the womb, its training would begin in earnest. Only one in thousands survived those first five minutes.
Yet even the diligence of the Knights Eternal did not lessen the coming danger.
Despair stood for a moment in the cone of the volcano and peered upward, gazing at the stars for a long moment before he headed into the fortress.
There is much to do, he thought. There are worlds to conquer.
Held captive in his own body, Areth Sul Urstone was witness to the evil imaginings of Despair s heart. Despair looked up at the stars and could not admire their beauty. Instead, they were only a reminder of his failure. He wanted only to seize them, bind them, and rule over a world perfect but for one flaw — himself.
Areth considered what to do. It was said that a man could resist a wyrm. Do good, legend said, and they will flee from you. Do evil, and they will bind you and make you theirs.
Already, Areth wondered if he had the will any longer to resist Lord Despair.
For his part, Despair heard the stirring of Areth within his skull, and mocked. "Plot as you will, your soul is mine. You gave it to me freely, to save your people. And I shall keep my word: your people shall live-under my rule."
13
Every creature must struggle for that which it needs. Do not waste sympathy on the vanquished. The weak get what they deserve.
"Emir Tuul Ra of Dalharristan, I challenge you to a duel!" Talon intoned. "I fight for honor, and for the right to take endowments to battle the wyrmling horde and save my brother."
The emir s face was still turned to the side. He worked his lips, and spat blood and spittle onto the ground. Then he looked up at Talon and smiled wolfishly.
The emir knew what she was after. The Cormar brothers, Tun and Errant, could gather endowments easily. Their skill was legendary, and those who were capable of sacrificing their own brawn or grace would gladly make a gift to such worthy warriors. But Talon was no one, a girl, and among the warrior clans no woman challenged a man, unless she sought only to humiliate him.
"Are you of an age where you can even make such a challenge?" the emir asked.
He studied Talon s demeanor. She was a handsome girl, and strong. He admired her spirit.
But he could not let her make a fool of him, not if he hoped to win the endowments that he d need to free Areth Sul Urstone.
His question seemed to have caught Talon off guard.
"On your world," she said, "I am eighteen years. But on the other I was seventeen. It is not that I was born at different times, but that the years on this world are shorter than on the other."
She stopped her rambling, focused on the question. "In both worlds, I am old enough to make my own decisions in life."
"Then I hope you know what you re doing," the emir whispered. "This is dangerous. I won t hold back. For my people s sake, I can t hold back." It was not an idle threat. The Emir Tuul Ra knew that he was the finest warrior of his generation.
Talon gave him a wolfish smile of her own. "I can take the best that you ve got-and more."
The emir sighed. He didn t want to fight her, but neither could he refuse the challenge.
In part he did not want to fight her because Talon was the daughter of a friend. And she was young, too young to know what she was doing.
But more important, he had just been in a council meeting attended by Glories. There had been a sweetness in the room, a feeling of inner cleanliness, so profound that it had made him want to weep.
It made him want to be like them. He wanted to feel holy, to carry his own inner peace with him.
How could I bear it, he wondered, if I were to take the life of this girl?
Yet he knew that he was the best warrior for the job. The life of a friend and comrade hung in the balance. He could not spare the girl, for to do so would put his friend, and the future of his people, in jeopardy.
"I have no choice but to accept your challenge," Tuul Ra said.
It was raining when they exited the cave. The thunder that had shaken the sky earlier was gone, but the emir could hear it growling on the horizon. The skies were so leaden gray that it seemed that it was night, and rain was falling in sheets out on the grasslands.
But the magnificent pine of the netherworld held the storm at bay. A few great dirty drops splashed from the limbs of the tree, but it shed most of the water well beyond where they stood. The storm s only effect was to make a rushing sound as the wind tore through the pine boughs, and the treetops swayed under its onslaught.