The Lady's Man (47 page)

Was that true? Could it be? Yorik didn't know. All he did know was that he wanted it to be true. He
desperately
wanted it to be true. Because anything that lifted the crushing weight of guilt from him was a gift from the gods. But he couldn't lift that burden. Not yet. He wasn't sure. However, for the first time in ages he had hope. Hope that perversely helped no one – not even himself. It was just selfishness.

“Caught early enough the thane that arises from the wizard can be controlled. If the wizard dies quickly the thane does not have so much fear to absorb. Unfortunately that did not happen this time. The wizard was not killed early and he was somehow able to contain the Nameless within him for nearly two years. And for all of that time he grew in fear, rage and malice. All of that has been carried across in to the thane. Now what has been created is a hundred times worse than any we have ever seen before.”

Could a man look both appalled and awed at the same time? Until then Yorik wouldn't have thought so. But looking at the sylph he suddenly knew it was possible. The man was appalled by the destruction that was happening, and that was going to continue. But he was also awed by the power of the thane, and of the wizard that had created him. And a part of the sylph Yorik suspected, was tempted to do the same. He was right; this was a doom of wizards with ambition.

“Which raises an interesting question,” Myral interrupted the sylph unexpectedly. “The way to the Nameless is blocked. It is hidden and warded and guarded. None may summon it. Your people are the back bone of that block, committed to preventing this from ever happening. And yet you seem to know a lot about Mayfall including how long ago he took the Nameless to himself. How is that exactly?”

It was carefully worded and politely spoken. It was even asked as a question. But it wasn't a question at all. It was an accusation.

“You are right wizard. Curse your paladin's damned patron for waking you. But yes Mayfall came to us years ago. He trained under our tutelage and sought to become a great wizard instead of simply the servant of the wealthy. But his ambition was greater than we knew. His cunning too. He dreamed of power. The power to bring realms to their knees and to make the mighty tremble at his feet. But he knew enough to hide it well. We did not see it within him.”

“He came in humility seeking training and then offered to help us with our wards as payment. Then secretly he undid them instead. He had found some ancient writing that he believed would allow him to contain the Nameless within him without being consumed. Naturally it did not work. Such things never work. Soon after he fled, killing thirty of our guardian wizards as he did so. We have been hunting for him ever since. Now though, it is too late. Though the boy here killed him, it was too late even then.”

Suddenly things about Mayfall's past became completely clear to Yorik. Why he had come to Ender's Fall in the first place. He had claimed that he was left with little work because of the large number of other wizards in Doverion. But in truth he had been running from the sylph, not seeking work. And that explained the lack of luggage he had arrived with. The dearth of clothing. All things that his family had assumed were due to his having fallen on hard times. So they had opened their hearts and their door to a fugitive, never suspecting what he truly was. They had fed him and clothed him. Given him a roof over his head until he could find his own. Had they known they would have killed him on the spot. They should have. If only they had known.

“And what did you teach him?”

Myral wasn't finished with his interrogation. In fact from his tone it sounded as though he was just getting started.

“How to shape his magic properly of course. How to focus his mind. How to stretch the limits of what he could call upon. What do you think we taught him wizard?”

But even as he threw the question at Myral like a weapon, Yorik knew the sylph was hiding something. Something bad. He could see it in his face, hear it in his voice.

“I think you taught him necromancy. Demonancy. Poisons. The dark arts.” Myral's voice was flat, full of certainty and accusation.

The sylph didn't answer Myral. But his silence was a confession as far as Yorik could tell. He didn't answer, purely because he didn't want to admit his guilt. But Myral wasn't going to allow him to get away with that.

“Answer me sylph.”

“Necromancy yes. Poisons and dark thoughts yes. He had a natural gift for these things. But no more. And what of it wizard? It is just magic.”

He stared the wizard in the eye but his defiance was a bluff. He knew his people had done wrong. The proof was busy destroying the world around them.

“What of it sylph? You know you cannot separate the magic from the soul. You taught dark magic to a dark soul and he used it. Magic that could only be used for ill taught to one who only intended ill. He destroyed my companion's family with that magic. Ghost vipers, poisons, madness. He destroyed many others. All thanks to you. And now when he is dead, the thane that came from him is the first to use necromancy. These armies of the undead plaguing the lands are all Mayfall. They were never of the Dark One as so many believed. And they are all because of you and what you taught to an evil wizard. How many more mistakes have your people been making sylph?”

“Mistakes? We don't make mistakes!” The sylph all but yelled his defiance at him. But yelling could not hide the truth.

“Then tell me of the Iron Hand.”

“What of them?” But he was obviously lying, hiding the truth in his question. The bluster had suddenly vanished and there was a hint of alarm in his voice.

“You've been training them. Why?”

“Coin. Resources. The normal things one receives in return.”

“Power.”

It wasn't Myral who said it though he was surely thinking it. It wasn't even Yorik who said it though his thoughts were running along the same lines. The sylph was guilty and he didn't need to be of the Order of Lyrin the Just to know it. But for the moment it was the Lady speaking through him. She'd had enough of simply observing he gathered.

“You sought an army. Conquest. Tell me I am wrong Generan.”

But the sylph couldn't. He tried, and he spluttered out some pitiful excuses about how it had nothing to do with conquest. That they just wanted a few champions here and there to do their bidding. The Lady wasn't going to accept that.

“So when you say you sent out hunters, you mean you sent out the Iron Hand.”

“Yes. What of it? Who we send is our business.”

“What of it? What it is of is destruction. Now we know why this thane has been targeting the enemies he has. In life he was hunted by the Iron Hand. In death he is hunting them in turn. The chapters of the Iron Hand in Doverion, Ender's Fall and Armitage have all been destroyed. And while their loss is nothing to regret, each time their destruction has resulted in terrible costs to the cities around them. Hundreds of thousands of innocents are dead because of it. Millions are homeless as the cities burn.”

“And every few days it is another chapter and another city. You have unleashed a murderous fury upon an innocent and unready people.”

It was fortunate that the Lady was controlling him. Because just then Yorik was reeling, almost ready to fall down. Ender's Fall had been attacked? He hadn't heard. But how would he have been told when he had been on the trail? Only the Lady could have told him and she had been silent for the entire journey. He guessed she had not wanted to burden him with the knowledge. But what had become of his friends? His neighbours?

First it had been his family. Then it was his Order. Now it was his friends, his wider family and his home as well. It was as if the thane was deliberately targeting him. Destroying every part of his life. There would be nothing left by the time he was finished. Nothing but death. Whether this was his fault or not, it was a terrible anguish. Yet he had to withstand it. He was a paladin. He had to stand.

“We had heard.”

“I'm sure you had. Just as I'm sure you have guessed where he will strike next after he has finished with your armies. Despite your self serving words you know there is no
if he will come for you
. There is only when. Now answer my friends' questions. Tell them what they need to know to save your own miserable hides.”

With those words and the way the sylph turned away unable to face her, Yorik understood so much about Generan. Why he had come to them early, before they had fully entered the Land of The Sky. And maybe why he was being so difficult. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be confessing. But he was frightened. In time the thane would come for them. And they already knew what the last thane had done to their realm eight hundred years before. A disaster they still hadn't recovered from. A second would be even more terrible. The sylph might not survive. And they didn't know if they could stop him.

Despite it being the last thing he wanted to do – for he really just wanted to scream his pain and fear and rage to the gods themselves – Yorik knew what he had to do. What he had to ask.

“So how do we fight this thane?”

It was strange how the words came so easily to him. Regardless of his fear and pain, his sense of failure and guilt, he was a paladin. Trained always to think like a warrior. And whether or not he had created this nightmare by killing Mayfall, or if things could have gone so much better for them all if only the sylph had shared their knowledge of the wizard, defeating him was the only thing that mattered in the end. Defeating him before he destroyed everything.

“Fight? You cannot fight a thane child. No more than you can fight a volcano. They are simply a part of the world.”

The sylph had turned back to him and begun speaking to him as if he were a child, but Yorik didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that Mayfall was stopped. Even if he was somehow already dead. And the sylph didn't seem to think that was possible. Save that if he didn't think they could do something he wouldn't have come to them early.

“Then the world will be destroyed. And you with it.”

Which didn't make sense when the sylph had come to them early. He surely hadn't done that just to tell them there was no hope? He had hope surely.

“No.” The sylph at least seemed to be certain of that. “Not the world.”

“Thanes arise from time to time. And they go away. A few months, a few years and they are gone. The world is unchanged by them. It carries on. As bad as he is, this thane will pass in time as have all the others before him.”

He seemed to have a calm, almost fatalistic attitude towards them. As if he had already accepted his death, assuming he thought he was going to die. And he did have to know he was in danger. Unless he had a plan to escape?

“But how many innocents will die before then? How many towns and cities will be destroyed? How many children will be left alone in the dark and fear? How many forests will be torn from the ground? Mayfall is crushing all before him. Murdering thousands, hundreds of thousands in an endless orgy of destruction. The lands are burning. The dead walk everywhere. Death is upon us all.”

“And we will show you how to fight this Mayfall. How to destroy him.”

“But you said –.”

Yorik stopped because he didn't know quite what to say. The sylph was openly contradicting himself. One moment they couldn't fight him, the next they not only could, but they could destroy him as well. The winged man could actually be crazed.

“I said you could not fight the thane. But the thane is not your enemy. The soul of the one called Mayfall is. And that can be destroyed.”

“Soul? Then he is alive!”

“No. That is why he can be defeated. The dark wizard is dead. Mayfall is gone. With the blessing of the gods he now rots for eternity in a demon filled underworld. But a part of him, that part which was his thoughts and feelings – a little of his memories – continues.”

Yorik could have asked him to explain but instead he just stood there staring at him and waited. He was sure the sylph knew the thoughts that were running through his head. It was just a matter of waiting until he finally continued.