David Zindell - Lord of Lies

Where was Morjin?

To our left, the two wings of our line had now closed in even more tightly upon the elements of the two armies caught between them. Many men, however, were fleeing from this death trap. To the far left, two thousand yards across the once-green pasture near the woods, the Urtuk warriors had given up the battle as lost. They simply rode off the field, and would keep on riding, as I later learned, clear across the Lake Country and through the southern passes out of Mesh. The Galdan heavy horse, those still alive, fled ahead of almost the whole of the Galdan light infantry. But the others could not retreat quickly enough.

Lord Avijan led the charge around the enemy from the left, and I led Asaru's knights against the enemy's rear from the right. We charged around and forward, meeting up with Lord Avijan's companies, and we thrust our lances through the backs of many Galdans and Sakayans. A few of them managed to turn toward us, and these died facing the terrible weapons that laid them under. Only a few battalions of the Galdan heavy infantry had escaped the enclosing Meshian line, and almost none of the mercenaries, Blues or the Dragon Guard. These were caught in a ring of steel a mile wide; they were packed together like cattle. They moaned and screamed like cattle, too, as the ring drew tighter and tighter and we killed them without pause or mercy.

What followed then was sheer butchery. I had no care to stop it, nor did Lord Avijan, nor Lord Tanu, nor any of the other Meshian knights or warriors who had lost friends, brothers or sons there that day. We kept striking our swords into the enemy until our arms grew so tired that we had to rest and let our companions next to us deal out this unrelenting death. The ground beneath us grew soggy, like a bog. Blood overflowed the close-cropped grass, and ran in little, snaking rivulets down to the Clear Brook, turning it red. Hours it took to slay all of our enemy, down to the last man. When the battle was finally over, the sun was an unbearable smear of red raining down fire from the sky.

I wandered for a long time among the heaps and-twists of bodies. Later there would be a count of them, but all I knew was that there were too many thousands of them. In truth, even one man killed this way was too many — unless he was Morjin. I looked for him everywhere. Had he somehow escaped this dreadful battlefield? I looked across the Culhadosh Commons, from one end to the other. Nearby a young man lay moaning as he clapped his hands to his belly, trying to keep his insides from spilling out. Farther away, the horses of the enemy were grazing peacefully where they could find a clear patch of grass. Lord Tanu and other lords were calling out to reform their battalions, trying to bring order, if not sense, to the madness that had befallen here.

Then a rider picked his way among the dead and found me where I stood above Asaru's body. He said to me, 'Lord Valashu, King Shamesh calls for you.'

I stared at him as if he had spoken words to me out of a cruel dream. I told him, 'My father is dead.'

'No, his wounds are mortal, but he still lives,' the messenger informed me. He pointed toward the woods to the east of the battlefield. 'I am to take you to him.'

I shook my head in amazement. Hadn't Lansar Raasharu seen my father die? Perhaps he had only assumed the worst And reported this to Asaru, and me. Such mistakes were often the result of the fog of battle.

I mounted my horse then, and followed the messenger across the field. We came to a place next to the woods ringed by many lords and knights. And at the center of this ring, my father sat back against a tree. Someone had removed his helm. His long black and silver hair, tied with many battle ribbons, spilled across his shoulders. His eyes were closed as he coughed up blood and gasped for breath. A bright red froth bubbled from the great hole in his armor over his chest. He held his long, bloody sword across his knees. I dismounted, and the knights made way for me as I walked forward and knelt by my father's side. He opened his eyes and looked at me. It seemed to take a great effort for him to speak my name: 'Valashu.'

Lord Harsha stepped up to me and laid his hand on my shoulder. His cheek was bleeding where a saber had nearly taken out his remaining eye. He pointed at my father's chest and said simply, 'A Galdan lance.'

'But we've got to get him to Master Juwain!' I said. 'He's healed such wounds before!'

'Your father wouldn't allow it,' Lord Harsha told me, shaking his head. 'Not while the battle was still being fought.'

My father reached out and grasped my hand. He said to me, 'I told you not to come.'

'But I thought you'd been slain! Lord Raasharu told me that Asaru was king and had sent for me!'

A spasm tore through my father's body as he worked to breathe. Then he gasped out, 'Lord Raasharu. . was not himself.'

His eyes cleared and touched mine. And suddenly I knew. I saw the evil tapestry that Morjin had woven for me, all of a piece.

'Asaru is dead,' my father said to me. 'All of my sons, gone.. except you.'

He let go of his sword as he smiled at me. With all the strength left in him, he pulled off his ring, with its five bright diamonds. He pressed it into my hand and said, 'Now you must be king.'

I squeezed this heavy circlet of silver in my fist. I shook my head. 'No, there is still time!'

'No, there is no time'

I held his hand as his breath sucked in and out, in and out, growing weaker and weaker. Then he raised his finger to point over my shoulder, west, toward Telshar, Arakel and the other mountains. And he said to me, 'You should never have left the castle.'

He coughed, once, very hard, and his whole body shuddered. He gripped his sword with one hand and my hand with his other. For a moment, his eyes grew incredibly bright, like stars. He gazed at me as if he had finally come home. And then he died.

I kissed his hand and laid it upon his sword. I kissed his lips. I stood up slowly. I pulled off my surcoat and laid it over him. I could not weep for him, not yet. I could not grieve for Asaru, or Yarashan or any other warrior of Mesh who had fallen here today. For the battle was not yet over. In truth, it was only beginning. I turned to look up the grassy slope of Culhadosh Commons, where the hills beyond blocked a clear line of sight of my father's castle high above Silvassu. It was my castle now, I told myself, what was left of it. I stared up at the great plume of smoke that my father had pointed out to the west, and I watched it rise like the souls of the dead into the sky.

In my flight back toward Silvassu, with the smoke billows above the castle looking ever larger, I paused only long enough to remove the heaving moldings of armor that were hampering Altaru's motions. Even lightened this way he had a hard time of it, for the going was mostly uphill, and he was already tired. I pressed him hard, even so. By the time we pounded up to the castle's south gate, he was nearly lathered. I, myself, could hardly breathe when I saw that the drawbridge was down and the iron gates hung open.

We had to pick our way across the bridge, for much of it was char and other parts were still burning. I gagged on the smell of oil with which its stout timbers had been soaked. As we entered the castle, I gagged on the smell of death. Just inside the gates lay the bodies of a dozen Meshian warriors. All of them, it seemed, had been killed by slashes to their throats. In the west ward, the dead were everywhere. Many of these were of the Dragon Guard, whose red armor had been cut open by dreadful kalama strokes. I noticed with grim satisfaction that these ravagers outnumbered the dead Meshians who had fought them here. But I could do nothing except rage helplessly at the sight of all the women, children and old men who had been slaughtered like animals. Hundreds of them lay in pools of blood near the garden wall's gate leading into the middle ward. It seemed that they had been cut down trying to flee toward the safety of the keep.