Ross Lawhead - A Hero's throne

Black eyes turned toward her and shied away when she brought the lantern up.

“It’s me, Freya. I came here when I was young, with Daniel. We went on a mission to destroy Gad, remember?”

Godmund didn’t move or take his eyes off of her.

“We’ve come back. The others are bringing an army. We need you and the other survivors-” Freya looked around the room, still appalled. They didn’t seem like survivors. “We need you to help us.” Her words were losing their passion and conviction as she listened to what she was saying. These people were traumatised. They couldn’t fight. Godmund was still staring at her, dumbly.

“The Carnyx,” she said. “Why didn’t you blow the Carnyx?”

Godmund made a sound that made her think that he was going to start singing again-but then she found that he was laughing.

“To save us would be to destroy us. That is as certain as the darkness. Our general has abandoned us. No, worse! He conspires against us. Our whole army, formed along a precipice, to do battle with the air. How do you fight the wind? To step forward is to perish. We are the walking fallen, still retreating, searching for a way out of the miserable reality. I have seen the hand that moves us in the darkness-a game of chess with all the pieces of one colour. A game of chance with a die that has just one side. A house on stone, but with walls of sand. What use has. .”

Godmund continued babbling. Egads, thought Freya. He’s completely lost it.

“Honourable Godmund,” Vivienne broke in. “We need you to fight now. We need you to rise up and chase away the invaders of the surface world. It’s. . it’s being invaded, Godmund: trolls, goblins, dragons, were-bears, ogres, all manner of sprites and hobs. . the time has come!”

Godmund spat. “I have no honour. And neither do you.”

Freya could only look down on the ancient being, who was once a brave, bullheaded warrior. Uncomplicated to a fault, if anything, he seemed, even to Freya’s young mind, as the ideal general-smart and capable, but largely unquestioning of his command, which at that time had been Ealdstan and Modwyn.

“I understand the disenfranchisement, Godmund, I do,” said Freya. “But please answer my question: why didn’t you blow the Carnyx when you could to end all of this?”

“You have no conception of that which you ask.”

“So tell us.”

Godmund grimaced and bared his teeth, like a wolf defending his territory. “The curses that object will bring upon the world are too many and deep to account. The breadth of evil it would bring would be incomprehensible. It would open a hole and blow out all the goodness and hope in all the realms of this world.”

“How do you know this?”

“It speaks to me. It tells me its secrets.”

“Right. Okay. So. . does that mean that it’s close by?”

Godmund raised a hand and gestured to the darkness behind him. Moving the light of the lantern, Freya saw the large copper horn propped against the wall. When she had seen it last it had been securely fastened into the centre of a small fortress, a fortress that lay within the second wall of the hidden city and that was designed to keep it and it alone safe. But the brilliant copper that had once glowed like fire was now dull and dim. A black patina was spreading across it, turning to an oxidized green in many places.

“It’s been here how long? Was it-did you bring it with you when you came here? When you escaped?”

“Yes, I brought it. It’s been here with me this short while, and we shall grow old and crumble apart together.”

“But-why just sit here?” Vivienne said. “Why not escape? Why not fight, as you have done for centuries?”

He did not reply.

“What happened, Godmund?” Freya said, her voice straining with frustration and annoyance. “Why are you so scared of fighting now?” She looked to Modwyn, to include her in the tirade. “Both of you, seriously, what happened here? What’s changed?”

“Nothing changed. Nothing. Here I lie. Buried, forgotten. There is no war to fight-there’s nothing to fight against. There is no evil army rising against us. We were tricked.”

“What?” Freya said. “But the yfelgopes. Daniel and I found gnomes, an elf. Alex-the man who brought us back here-he’s been finding trolls, dragons.”

“A dragon?” Godmund said, his eyes darting to Freya with the first sign of the fire of his previous passion-anger mixed with joy-that she had seen yet. “Did you see the dragon?”

“No. But he did,” Freya said with shaky conviction.

The fire died and Godmund’s gaze became blank again.

“I don’t understand,” Freya said to Vivienne. “If the horn is really as bad as he says-if it’s really so terrible-then why make it at all? And once it’s made, why go to so much trouble to make sure no one ever uses it?”

“I do not trust his grip on reality,” Vivienne said. “But we’ve found it now. There is no point in not using it.”

“Really, Viv? I thought you would be more cautious. I thought you might want to study it, or. . or. .”

“Or what, indeed? Now that Modwyn is awake, and anyone is free to enter the Langtorr once more, they could easily overrun us. With no easy way out of the tower-I’m not sure how long we’d have to wait for a portal to open, or how many may enter through it when we find it-I think that we are now in very, very deep trouble. I look around and I see yfelgopes in this very room, and I think we need help. Blow the horn.”

Freya was taken aback. It was unlike herself to actually minimize the danger of the situation that she was in, but Vivienne was right-they were in a tight spot.

She crossed slowly over to the horn and laid a hand on it. It felt cold and unremarkable beneath her fingers. She felt a moment of doubt.

“Seriously, Godmund,” she said, turning. “What actually, tangibly happens when the horn gets blown? No more philosophy.” Godmund lowered his brow, leaned forward, and said in a quiet, gravelly voice, “Destruction. The destruction of this realm.” Freya straightened. His voice was quiet enough that she was certain no one else had heard him, and he was holding her gaze in such an even and intense manner-was he trying to communicate something else to her? Did he want her to do it?

“Good enough for me.” Freya hoisted the heavy horn to her lips. .

And blew.

Alex and Ecgbryt surveyed the town of Gudesberg through binoculars. They were north of the city, in a forest, their ragtag war band left behind in the mouth of the enchanted cave that had opened beneath a crevice to allow them egress.

They had not been successful in recruiting any more of the European knights to their cause since Blanik, and the Hussites were proving to be hard to integrate into the group.

“By what name did you call this land?”

“Germany. It’s Germany, Ecgbryt. This is supposed to be the resting spot of Charlemagne and his knights.”

“Charlemagne?”

“King Charles the Great. Or Emperor Karl.”

“You mean Karolus? The Imperator Romanum ? I thought legend said that he was waiting in a well some distance north of here-Nurnberg is its name.”

“Yes, there or in Austria, or any number of other places. There are more than a few legends of mountain activity here, however, so I thought it would be worth looking into. It’s said to open every seven years, but I’m not sure where. .” He passed the binoculars to Ecgbryt.

“If it is as you say, then come the evening, it would be well to walk around the hill. Are you certain of this place? It looks a modern township.”

“No, quite the opposite,” Alex said. “It looks positively medieval.”