Roger Taylor - The Return of the Sword

Andawyr looked at them both thoughtfully.

‘Since leaving your home you’d had no Dream Finding “incidents” until you met Pinnatte, had you?’ he asked eventually.

‘No. I didn’t even know what Dream Finding was.’

‘And now you know much more?’

‘He’s a good grasp of what’s needed,’ Antyr intruded. ‘Especially considering how little time we’ve had.’

Andawyr nodded. ‘Pinnatte’s very unusual,’ he said. ‘The Kyrosdyn somehow made him capable of using the Power and travelling between the worlds – something we think shouldn’t be possible any more than a lantern can be lit and not lit at the same time – it did him terrible harm, as we know. But though the ability seems to be gone now, there may be a faint residue of it left. Perhaps, as you slept, your uncontrolled Dream Finding ability touched Pinnatte’s mind, and some strangeness in him drew you both through a Gateway.’

‘But why to that awful place?’ Vredech pressed.

Andawyr looked pained. ‘Why indeed? Perhaps a more important question might be, what drew the Uhriel there in the first place?’

‘Maybe, but could such a thing happen to us again?’ Vredech’s black-eyed gaze held Andawyr’s. Nertha laid her hand on her husband’s.

‘Yes, but if it happens, it happens.’ It was Antyr who delivered this unexpectedly brutal reply, though his voice was calm and steady. ‘I think it’s time for you and me to face something.’ He paused. ‘Like you, I came here in the hope that someone, somehow, would help me – explain what had happened to me – explain the changes we’ve all found in ourselves. Rather slowly, I’ll admit, it’s dawning on me that no one can really help me except myself. Laughable though it may seem, we are an elite here – the only ones with the ability to find the Uhriel and perhaps carry others to them who might be able to kill them. We’ve no alternative but to find out how to use it properly.’

‘Laughable it is,’ Vredech retorted caustically. ‘Elite is the last word I’d apply to myself.’

Antyr indicated the Goraidin. ‘You misunderstand – we all misunderstand. I’ve had the privilege of riding with these people. They, above all, will tell you how inadequate they feel before combat – how anxious to avoid it. They don’t feel like elite soldiers – they feel like frightened men and women. Only their experience sustains them. So what experience do we have?’ He became earnest. ‘Despite my drunkenness, despite your and Pinnatte’s ignorance, as Hawklan said yesterday, we all faced death and survived. As did Farnor and Thyrn in their own trials. We may not understand the gifts we have, but equally we don’t understand the resources that come with them except that we were all stronger then than we knew. We’re even stronger now. We can do this.’

‘You’re making very free with my husband’s life,’ Nertha said angrily.

Antyr winced away from her tone, then said quietly, ‘I don’t think any of us are free at the moment, Nertha.’

The remark seemed to stir Gavor who abruptly glided into the middle of the circle. Hawklan eyed him suspiciously. Gavor did not often participate in such discussions and his acid manner was the last thing that was needed now. Nevertheless, he had everyone’s attention.

‘Do excuse my interrupting,’ he said. ‘But on the matter of unseen resources – and your freedom here, for that matter – may I tell you something I learned from Ethriss?’

The hall was suddenly silent. Even the sound from the Labyrinth fell to a distant whisper. Gavor waited for no permission.

‘When Ethriss made himself known to me, it was quite a surprise, as you’ll imagine – wonderful, actually – he unfurled in my mind like a silver cloud…’ He looked upwards for a moment, then brusquely recollected himself. ‘Still, that’s by the by. More importantly, as I became aware of him, so many of my memories of how he’d come to be with me returned at the same time. I remembered me and my companions fighting Sumeral’s foul sky creatures at the Last Battle of the First Coming. I remembered seeing Ethriss fall to Sumeral’s final cast and I remembered sweeping down and seizing his spirit as it soared high above the battlefield – I’d keener vision then. As I snatched him up, he said, “It’s finished.” “Where shall I take you?” I asked him – it’s difficult to know what to say in such circumstances – I was very upset. “I need to think,” he said. “I must go into the place that is no place – where Sumeral sent the Prince Hawklan and where I sent my black sword – between the worlds, between the moments, where all is chance.”’

Gavor paused and tapped his wooden leg on the floor.

‘Do you mean that Sumeral did send me here?’ Hawklan asked urgently.

‘Do let me finish, dear boy,’ Gavor replied reproachfully, still tapping his leg. ‘He gave me a gift even as he was speaking – you know what he was like. He made my leg whole again. I didn’t even have an opportunity to thank him, when I was suddenly in the mountains here – in a blizzard – no idea where I was – still less, when – and precious little idea even who I was. I couldn’t fly and, within minutes, I was caught in the trap that took my leg off again. The rest you all know, but…’ He flapped his wings as if to release a long-held tension. ‘After Sumeral had destroyed Himself and as Ethriss was fading from me, I caught his thoughts. He was full of confusion and doubt. Hawklan had come to this time, the black sword had, I had, bearing him, Sumeral had. Too much for chance, surely? But it was what happened to my leg that seemed to disturb him the most. What he had done for me – such a small thing for him – had been undone almost immediately. Was there an inevitability to everything? Was all effort in vain? Then, he thought, was this world not his creation after all? Had it, rather, created him? They were old, old, doubts reborn. Then he seemed to understand something – very suddenly. “Nothing’s inevitable, Sky Prince,” he said. “Life battles too strongly against such constraints – even the ones I imposed – it doesn’t know its own strength.” And he was laughing – at himself – as he finally slipped away. It was a good sound, full of hope. “Others will shape this world further,” he said – still laughing at his own foolishness. “Others stronger. And freer than I, the god.”’

As Gavor finished, the Labyrinth’s whisper became a soft sighing. He coughed theatrically, then flapped onto the table in front of Hawklan who immediately repeated his question, though more gently.

‘He said Sumeral sent me here?’

‘I do wish you’d listen, dear boy,’ Gavor replied wearily. ‘He said Sumeral sent you between the worlds. But how we all came here, he didn’t know. And if he didn’t, I’m certain Sumeral didn’t when He disposed of you. And that’s probably what He did. I’d say He just didn’t want your mangled remains found on the Battlefield. You’d greatly weakened His army, and He knew if you were found hacked to pieces He wouldn’t be able to stand against Ethriss’s rage. But if you were simply missing… that would make for fretfulness, not anger. He made the best of a bad tactical situation – dumped you and ran. Shrewd move, really. But heat of the moment – nothing planned.’

Hawklan’s face became unreadable as he held out his hand and lifted Gavor back on to his shoulder.

‘What do you make of all this, Hawklan?’ Yatsu asked hesitantly.

‘Precious little,’ Hawklan replied, shaking off his reverie. ‘Everyone’s said what had to be said – made some semblance of sense out of what’s happening. But I don’t know where I belong in it. I can’t use the Power, I’m certainly no Dream Finder. As I said, I’m with you – just another soldier – and a patcher of cuts and gashes. A relic from another time.’