The Queen of Swords (15 page)

At last he spoke. “This is not sorcery, as such,” he told her. “It requires no spells and few incantations but is instead mechanical in its nature. Certain forces are harnessed to give power to machines—some of them much more delicate than anything the Mabden could imagine—which propel such vessels through the air and do many other things. Some of the machines could once sunder the fabric of the Wall Between the Realms and pass easily from plane to plane. My ancestors are said to have created such machines but most chose not to use them, preferring a different logic to their living. I dimly remember a legend which says that one Sky City—that was the name they gave to their cities—left our realm altogether, to explore the other worlds of the multiverse. Perhaps there was more than one such city, for I know that one did destroy itself when it went out of control during the Battle of Broggfythus and crashed close to Castle Erorn, as I told you. Perhaps another city was called Gwlās-cor-Gwrys and is now known as the City in the Pyramid.”

Prince Corum was smiling joyfully and speaking excitedly. With his mortal hand he pressed Rhalina’s arm. “Oh, Rhalina, can you understand what I feel at finding that some of my race still live, that Glandyth did not destroy them all?”

She smiled back at him. “I think so, Corum.”

The air about them began to vibrate and the boat shuddered. The steersman called from the wheelhouse, “Do not be afraid. We are passing into another plane.”

“Does that mean we are escaping Xiombarg?” asked the King Without a Country eagerly.

Jhary answered him. “No. Xiombarg’s realm extends for five planes and we are merely going from one of those into a different one. Or so I would think.”

The quality of the light changed and they looked over the side of the ship. A multicoloured gas swirled below them.

“The raw stuff of Chaos,” said Jhary. “Queen Xiombarg has, as yet, made nothing with it.”

They crossed the great gas and flew over a range of mountains, each more than a thousand feet high, but each one a perfect cube. Beyond the mountains was a dark jungle and beyond that a crystalline desert. The crystals of the desert moved constantly, their motion creating a tinkling music which was not pleasant. Among these crystals moved ochre beasts of enormous proportions but of primitive development. They were feeding off the crystals.

Then the crystal desert gave way to a flat, black plain and they saw ahead of them the City in the Pyramid.

The city was, in fact, a many-sided ziggurat. On each terrace were a large number of houses. Flowers, shrubs and trees grew along the terraces and the streets teemed with people. Over the whole city a greenish light flickered and the light took the form of a pyramid, enclosing the ziggurat. As the ship of the air flew towards it, a darker oval of green appeared in the flickering light and through this the ship passed. It circled the topmost building—a many-towered castle built all of metal—and then began to descend until it landed on a raised platform on the castle’s battlements. Corum shouted with pleasure as he saw the gathering which welcomed him.

“They are my people!” he exclaimed to his companions. “They are all my people!”

The steersman left the wheelhouse and put his hand on Corum’s shoulder. He signed to the men and women below and suddenly they were no longer on the ship of the air but were standing with the group, beneath the platform, looking up at the faces of Rhalina, Jhary and the King Without a Country as they peered over the rail of the ship in astonishment.

Corum was equally astonished to see the three suddenly vanish and appear beside him. One of the group then stepped forward. He was a thin, ancient man with a straight bearing, dressed in a thick robe and holding a staff.

“Welcome,” he said, “to Law’s last bastion.”

* * *

Later they sat around a table of beautifully fashioned ruby-metal and listened to the old man who had introduced himself as Prince Yurette Hasdun Nury, Commander of Gwlās-cor-Gwrys, the City in the Pyramid. He had explained how Corum’s speculations were substantially correct.

As they had eaten he had explained how Corum’s people had chosen to remain in their castles after the Battle of Broggfythus and devote themselves to learning while his people had decided to take their Sky City and try to fly it beyond the Five Planes, through the Wall Between the Realms. They had succeeded, but had failed to return due to some power loss which they could not then restore. Since then they had managed only to explore these five planes and then, when the struggle between Law and Chaos had begun to build, they had remained neutral.

“We were fools to do so. We thought we were above such disputes. And slowly we saw Law conquered and Chaos emerge in all its grisly triumph to create its travesties of beauty. But by that time, though we did take our city against Xiombarg’s creatures, we were too late. Chaos had gained all power and we could not fight it. Xiombarg sent—and still sends—armies against us. These we resisted, not without danger. And now it is stalemate. Every so often Xiombarg will send another army—some frightful, monstrous army—and we are forced to fight it. But we can do no more than that. I fear we are all that is left of Law, save you.”

“Law has regained its power in our Five Planes,” Corum told him. He described his adventures, his battle with Arioch and the final result which was to restore Lord Arkyn to his realm. “But that, too, is threatened for Law has still only a slender hold on the realm and all the forces of Chaos are being brought to bear on it.”

“But Law still has some power!” Prince Yurette said. “We did not know that. We learned that the Sword Rulers controlled all the realms. If only we could return—take our city back through the Wall Between the Realms—and give you our aid. But we cannot. We have tried so often. The materials are not available on these planes for building up the massive power it needs.”

“And if you had these materials?” Corum asked. “How long would it be before you could return to our realm?”

“Not long. But we are weakening already. A few more of Xiombarg’s attacks—perhaps just one massive one—and we shall be destroyed.”

Corum stared bitterly at the table. Was he to find Vadhagh folk still living only to see them die—crushed, as his family was crushed by the forces of Chaos?

“We had hoped to take you back with us, to relieve Lywm-an-Esh,” he said. “But now we learn that is impossible and, it seems, we, too, are stranded in this realm, unable to go to the aid of our friends.”

“If we had those rare minerals…” Prince Yurette paused. “But you could get them for us.”

“We cannot return,” Jhary-a-Conel pointed out. “We cannot get back to our realm. If it were possible, of course we could find the materials you need—or at least try to do so—but even then we could not be sure of being able to return here…”

Prince Yurette frowned. “It would be possible for us to send just one sky ship through the Wall Between the Realms. We have the power to do that, though it would dangerously weaken our defenses here. Yet it is worth the risk, I think.”

Corum’s spirits lifted. “Aye, Prince Yurette—anything is worth the risk if the cause of Law is to be saved.”

* * *

While Prince Yurette conferred with his scientists, the four companions wandered through the marvelous city of Gwlās-cor-Gwrys. It was all made of metal—but metals so magnificent, so strange in texture and so rich in colour that even Corum could not guess at how they had been manufactured. Towers, domes, trellises, arches and pathways were of these metals, as were the ramps and stairways between the terraces. Everything in the city functioned independently of the outside world. Even the air was created within the confines of the shimmering pyramid of green light which cast its glow on all the outer flanks of Gwlās-cor-Gwrys.

And everywhere did the folk of the City in the Pyramid go about their day-to-day business. Some tended gardens and others saw to the distribution of food. There were many artists at work, performing musical compositions or displaying the pictures they had made—pictures on silk and marble and glass very similar in technique to those produced by Corum’s own Vadhagh folk, but often with different styles and subjects, some of which Corum could not find it in him to like, perhaps because they were so strange.

They were shown the huge, beautiful machines which kept the city alive. They were shown its armaments, which protected it from the attacks of Chaos, the bays where its ships of the air were kept. They saw its schools and its restaurants and its theatres, its museums and its art galleries. And here was everything which Corum thought destroyed for ever by Glandyth-a-Krae and his barbarians. But now all this, too, was threatened with destruction—and destruction from the same source, ultimately.

They slept, they ate and their tattered, battered clothes were copied by the tailors and arms-smiths of Gwlās-cor-Gwrys so that when they awoke they found themselves with fresh raiment identical to that which they had worn upon starting out on their quest for the city.

Jhary-a-Conel was particularly pleased by this example of the city’s hospitality and when, at last, they were invited to attend upon Prince Yurette, he expressed that gratitude roundly.

“The sky ship is ready,” said Prince Yurette gravely. “You must go quickly now, for Queen Xiombarg, I learn, mounts a great attack upon us.”

“Will you be able to withstand it with your power weakened?” Jhary asked.

“I hope so.”

The King Without a Country stepped forward. “Forgive me, Prince Yurette, but I would stay here with you. If Law is to battle Chaos in my own realm, then I would battle with it.”

Yurette inclined his head. “It shall be as you wish. But now hurry, Prince Corum. The sky ship awaits you on the roof. Stand on that mosaic circle there and you will be transported to the ship. Farewell!”

They stood within the mosaic circle on the prince’s floor and, a heartbeat later, were once again upon the deck of the ornate flying craft.

The steersman was the same who had first greeted them.

“I am Bwydyth-a-Horn,” he said. “Please sit where you sat before and cling tightly to the rail.”

“Look!” Corum pointed beyond the green pyramid, out across the black plain. The huge shape of Queen Xiombarg could be seen again, her face alive with fury. And beneath her there marched a vast army, a foul army of fiends.

Then the sky ship had entered the air and sailed through the dark green oval into a world which rang with the voices of the fiends.

And over all these voices sounded the hideous, vengeful laughter of Queen Xiombarg of Chaos.

“BEFORE I MERELY TOYED WITH THEM BECAUSE I ENJOYED THE GAME! BUT NOW THAT THEY HARBOUR THE DESTROYER OF MY BROTHER, THEY WILL PERISH IN BLACK AGONY!”

The air began to vibrate, a green globe of light now encircled the ship. The City in the Pyramid, the army of hell, Queen Xiombarg, all faded. The ship rocked crazily up and down, the moaning increased in pitch until it became a painful whine.

And then they had left the Realm of Queen Xiombarg and came again to the Realm of Arkyn of Law.

They sailed over the land of Lywm-an-Esh and it was not very different from the world they had just left. Chaos, here too, was on the march.

IN WHICH PRINCE CORUM AND HIS COMPANIONS WAGE WAR, WIN A VICTORY AND WONDER AT THE WAYS OF LAW

1

T
HICK SMOKE COILED
from blazing villages, towns and cities. They were to the south-east of the River Ogyn in the Duchy of Kernow-a-Laun and it was plain that one of King Lyr-a-Brode’s armies had landed on the coast, well south of Moidel’s Mount.

“I wonder if Glandyth has yet discovered our leaving,” Corum said as he stared miserably from the sky ship at the burning land. Crops had been destroyed, corpses lay rotting in the summer sun, even animals had been needlessly slaughtered. Rhalina was sickened by what had happened to her country and she could not look at it for long.

“Doubtless he has,” she said quietly. “Their army has plainly been on the march for some time.”

From time to time they saw small parties of barbarians in chariots or riding shaggy ponies, looting what was left of the settlements, though there was none left for them to slay or torture. Sometimes, too, they saw the refugees streaming southwards towards the mountains where doubtless they hoped to find a hiding place.