He struck one fist into the other palm. “God damn it,” he mumbled, “God damn it,” and didn’t know if he cursed or implored.
“Holger.”
He jerked around. The sword leaped into his hand. Nothing met his glare but murk, out beyond the firelight. The wind blew, the dry grass murmured, somewhere an owl screamed.
“Holger.”
He trod to the edge of the charmed circle. “Who’s that?” Despite himself, he spoke softly.
“Holger,” said the voice. “Do not call out. You are the only one I would speak with.”
His pulses sprang. The sword dropped, as if grown too heavy for him. Morgan le Fay walked into the light.
It wavered, painting her red against blackness. Shadows caressed the body within the fluttering long dress. The fire touched her eyes and lit tiny flames therein. “What do you want?” Holger husked.
Her smile was slow and beautiful. “Only to speak with you. Come here to me.”
“No.” He shook his head violently, hoping to clear it. “Nothing doing. I won’t step beyond the circle.”
“You need have no fear. At least, not of any beings whom your symbols would halt. They are elsewhere, readying for battle.” She shrugged. “But do as you wish.”
“What have you got, then, to threaten me with?” he asked. “More cannibals?”
“Those whom you met today were under my command to take you alive at any cost,” she said earnestly. “You would have done best to yield to them. They would have borne you to me, unharmed.”
“And my friends?”
“What are those acquaintances of a few weeks to you, Holger? Why should you care? Remember, in any case, my dear one, that party whom you routed today have returned to the main army of their tribe. Their chief is crazed with rage at the shame you put upon him. Not I nor hell itself could stop him from seeking to kill, when next he meets you. His honor can only be regained by eating your heart. Come away with me, Holger, while you can.”
“With you, who helped teach those poor savages to eat men?”
She grimaced. “That was not I. Certain allies of mine, the demons and their prophets whom Chaos has used to bring the hillmen under our control... they have preached an uncouth religion. Not one that I would have taught. “ Her smile returned. “My belief is in joy, in the fulfillment of life, that which I taught you once and would fain teach you again, Holger.”
“That argument won’t work either,” he said. He looked past her, into night. This time, he suddenly realized, he meant it. He did not desire Morgan le Fay. When she reached out and took his hand, her fingers might have been any woman’s. An attractive woman, certainly, but no more than that.
“You are not the most constant person in the world,”, she said, still smiling. “Once you revolted against your own liege lord, Carl himself. He never had a fiercer enemy, before your own large-heartedness ended the feud.”
“But we were reconciled, I gather.” He withdrew his hand from her clasp.
She glanced at Alianora. Her sigh held an unfeigned sadness. “I perceive an older witchcraft than mine has ensorcelled you, Holger. Welladay, ’twas joyous once. Nothing can take that from me.”
“You took my past from me,” he said bitterly. “You made me into a child again and sent me out of my whole universe. It’s not your doing I’ve come back. Something else brought me, that neither of us understands.”
“So you know that much,” she said. “Would you know yet more? I can return to you those lost memories, if you wish.”
“At what price? The same you wanted last time?”
“Less. You need not even betray your friends here. I could see to it that they also prosper. Your present course will only lead them to destruction with you.”
“How can I trust your word?”
“Let me restore your memory. Come out of the circle that I may use a spell to dissolve the murk in you. Then you will recall what oaths are binding on me.”
He moved his gaze back to her. Tall and serene she stood, except for the dark hair that tossed under her coronet. Yet he sensed how she was drawn tense as a wire about to break. The full mouth had grown thin, the curved nose dilated, the fire reflections in her eyes leaped feverish. Slowly, her fists clenched.
And why should the world’s greatest witch fear him?
He pondered it, standing there in the windy night with sleep at his feet and blackness overhead. She had powers, yes, and she had used them against him; but he himself was charged with some other, opposing force, and there was that which said, “Thus far and no farther.” All the magics they had tried, in Avalon, in Faerie, in mortal lands, had failed to halt him. Now even her own beauty had been made impotent by gray eyes and brown tresses. She had no enchantments remaining that could stop him.
Of course, to something which was not hexed up by her but was supernatural in its own right—or to ordinary cold steel—he was still terribly mortal.
“In my world,” he said wonderingly, “you’re a myth. I never thought I’d fight a myth.”
“That was not your world either,” she said. “There, you too are a legend. This is your place, here with me.”
He shook his head. “Both worlds are mine, I think,” he answered stolidly. “Somehow I have a place in both.”
Nevertheless, excitement rose in him. He’d been too preoccupied to draw the obvious conclusion before this instant: that he himself belonged to the Carolingian-Arthurian cycle. Somewhere back in that other cosmos (how far from this night and this woman!) he might once have read of his own deeds.
But if so, he decided drearily, the forgetfulness had covered it. His name might be a household word at home; he might have been his own boyhood hero; but Morgan’s spell continued to work. The transition here had blanked out whatever recollections he had had of any stories about... about three hearts and three lions.
“Meseems, at least you like this world best,” said Morgan. “Beware lest you blunder back into the other.” She made a step closer to him, until they almost touched. “Aye, there is indeed a great hosting in both worlds, and you are the crux in both. I’ll confess that much. But if you go through with this crazy scheme, wielding powers you know nothing of, you’ll most likely fail and die. Or you will perchance succeed, and rue that you did. Lay down your burden now, Holger, and abide here happy forever. There is still time!”
He grinned with little humor. “You wouldn’t try so hard to talk me into quitting, if my chance of winning weren’t better than you let on,” he said. “I suppose you know where I’m bound. You’ve done your best to fool me, and capture me, and cripple me. No doubt you’ll try next to kill me. But I mean to keep going.”
What highfalutin words , gibed his inward self. A fellow would almost think you meant them.
He knew in an uprush of weariness that he only wanted peace. An end to this warring in the dark. A place to hide with Alianora from all the worlds and all their cruelties. But he couldn’t so much as ask for a rest. There were too many others who would get trampled underfoot, the moment he was out of the way. He was no damned hero, but Judas, a guy had to live with himself, didn’t he?
Morgan watched him for a long moment. The wind whistled around them. “There is fate in this,” she said at last, heavily. “Yes, I see that even Carahue has returned. The parts of the pattern are gathered. But do not be sure that the Weaver will complete it.”
Sudden tears glimmered in her eyes. She leaned forward and kissed him, not hard, almost fleetingly, but he had seldom felt a greater tenderness. “Good-by, Holger,” she said. She turned and walked out of sight.
He stood and shivered in the cold. Ought he to call the others? No, let them sleep, he thought vaguely. He didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Nobody’s damn business.