Robert Silverberg - Nightwings

“I had my full hours.”

“I have had none. But there will be time for sleep later. We owe each other explanations, Tomis.”

“Yes.” I rose uncertainly. “Are you well? I saw you earlier, and you seemed lost in trance.”

“They have given me medicines,” she replied.

“Tell me what you can tell me about last night.”

Her eyelids slid momentarily closed. “You were there when Elegro challenged us and was cast out by the Prince. Some hours later, Elegro returned. With him were the Procurator of Perris and several other invaders. Elegro appeared to be in a mood of great jubilation. The Procurator produced a cube and commanded the Prince to put his hand to it. The Prince balked, but Manrule Seven persuaded him finally to cooperate. When he had touched the cube, the Procurator and Elegro departed, leaving the Prince and myself together again, neither of us comprehending what had happened. Guards were posted to prevent the Prince from leaving. Not long afterward the Procurator and Elegro returned. Now Elegro seemed subdued and even confused, while the Procurator was clearly exhilarated. In our room the Procurator announced that amnesty had been granted to the former Prince of Roum, and that no man was to harm him. Thereupon all of the invaders departed.”

“Proceed.”

Olmayne spoke as though a Somnambulist. “Elegro did not appear to comprehend what had occurred. He cried out that treason had been done; he screamed that he had been betrayed. An angry scene followed. Elegro was womanish in his fury; the Prince grew more haughty; each ordered the other to leave the suite. The quarrel became so violent that the carpet itself began to die. The petals drooped; the little mouths gaped. The climax came swiftly. Elegro seized a weapon and threatened to use it if the Prince did not leave at once. The Prince misjudged Elegro’s temper, thought he was bluffing, and came forward as if to throw Elegro out. Elegro slew the Prince. An instant later I grasped a dart from our rack of artifacts and hurled it into Elegro’s throat. The dart bore poison; he died at once. I summoned others, and I remember no more.”

“A strange night,” I said.

“Too strange. Tell me now, Tomis: why did the Procurator come, and why did he not take the Prince into custody?”

I said, “The Procurator came because I asked him to, under the orders of your late husband. The Procurator did not arrest the Prince because the Prince’s liberty had been purchased.”

“At what price?”

“The price of a man’s shame,” I said.

“You speak a riddle.”

“The truth dishonors me. I beg you not to press me for it.”

“The Chancellor spoke of a document that had been taken by the Procurator—”

“It has to do with that,” I confessed, and Olmayne looked toward the floor and asked no further questions.

I said ultimately, “You have committed a murder, then. What will your punishment be?”

“The crime was committed in passion and fear,” she replied. “There will be no penalty of the civil administration. But I am expelled from my guild for my adultery and my act of violence.”

“I offer my regrets.”

“And I am commanded to undertake the Pilgrimage to Jorslem to purify my soul. I must leave within the day, or my life is forfeit to the guild.”

“I too am expelled,” I told her. “And I too am bound at last for Jorslem, though of my own choosing.”

“May we travel together?”

My hesitation betrayed me. I had journeyed here with a blind Prince; I cared very little to depart with a murderous and guildless woman. Perhaps the time had come to travel alone. Yet the Somnambulist had said I would have a companion.

Olmayne said smoothly, “You lack enthusiasm. Perhaps I can create some in you.” She opened her tunic. I saw mounted between the snowy hills of her breasts a gray pouch. She was tempting me not with her flesh but with an overpocket. “In this,” she said, “is all that the Prince of Roum carried in his thigh. He showed me those treasures, and I removed them from his body as he lay dead in my room. Also there are certain objects of my own. I am not without resources. We will travel comfortably. Well?”

“I find it hard to refuse.”

“Be ready in two hours.”

“I am ready now,” I said.

“Wait, then.”

She left me to myself. Nearly two hours later she returned, clad now in the mask and robes of a Pilgrim. Over her arm she held a second set of Pilgrim’s gear, which she offered to me. Yes: I was guildless now, and it was an unsafe way to travel. I would go, then, as a Pilgrim to Jorslem. I donned the unfamiliar gear. We gathered our possessions.

“I have notified the guild of Pilgrims,” she declared as we left the Hall of Rememberers. “We are fully registered. Later today we may hope to receive our starstones. How does the mask feel, Tomis?”

“Snug.”

“As it should be.”

Our route out of Perris took us across the great plaza before the ancient gray holy building of the old creed. A crowd had gathered; I saw invaders at the center of the group. Beggars made the profitable orbit about it. They ignored us, for no one begs from a Pilgrim; but I collared one rascal with a gouged face and said, “What ceremony is taking place here?”

“Funeral of the Prince of Roum,” he said “By order of the Procurator. State funeral with all the trimmings. They’re making a real festival out of it.”

“Why hold such an event in Perris?” I asked. “How did the Prince die?”

“Look, ask somebody else. I got work to do.”

He wriggled free and scrambled on to work the crowd.

“Shall we attend the funeral?” I asked Olmayne.

“Best not to.”

“As you wish.”

We moved toward the massive stone bridge that spanned the Senn. Behind us, a brilliant blue glow arose as the pyre of the dead Prince was kindled. That pyre lit the way for us as we made our slow way through the night, eastward to Jorslem.

Our world was now truly theirs. All the way across Eyrop I could see that the invaders had taken everything, and we belonged to them as beasts in a barnyard belong to the farmer.

They were everywhere, like fleshy weeds taking root after a strange storm. They walked with cool confidence, as if telling us by their sleekness of their movements that the Will had withdrawn favor from us and conferred it upon them. They were not cruel to us, and yet they drained us of vitality by their mere presence among us. Our sun, our moons, our museums of ancient relics, our ruins of former cycles, our cities, our palaces, our future, our present, and our past had all undergone a transfer of title. Our lives now lacked meaning.

At night the blaze of the stars mocked us. All the universe looked down on our shame.

The cold wind of winter told us that for our sins our freedom had been lost. The bright heat of summer told us that for our pride we had been humbled.

Through a changed world we moved, stripped of our past selves. I, who had roved the stars each day now had lost that pleasure. Now, bound for Jorslem, I found cool comfort in the hope that as a Pilgrim I might gain redemption and renewal in that holy city. Olmayne and I repeated each night the rituals of our Pilgrimage toward that end:

“We yield to the Will.”

“We yield to the Will.”

“In all things great and small.”

“In all things great and small.”

“And ask forgiveness.”

“And ask forgiveness.”

“For sins actual and potential.”

“For sins actual and potential.”

“And pray for understanding and repose.”

“And pray for understanding and repose.”